4. The system of Spinoza is vicious, because his whole reasoning on the subject of Creation is pervaded by a transparent fallacy. He affirms the impossibility of Creation, and attempts to demonstrate his position. But how? By proving that a "substance" cannot be produced. And why may not "a substance" be produced? Because, by the definition, "a substance" is that which is "self-existent." In other words, a self-existent substance cannot be created,—a truism which scarcely required the apparatus of a geometrical proof by means of propositions, scholia, and corollaries, or, as Professor Saisset says, with laconic naivete, "ce qui a a peine besoin d'etre demontre." But, while the only proof that is offered extends no further than to self-existent or uncreated substance, it is afterwards applied to everything that exists, so as to exclude the creation even of that which is not self-existent; and this on the convenient assumption that whatever exists must be either a "substance," or an "attribute," or a "mode." And thus, partly by an ambiguity of language, partly by an arbitrary and gratuitous assumption, he excludes the possibility of Creation altogether. Surely it might have occurred to him that by proving the necessary existence of an uncreated Being—a doctrine held by every Christian Theist—he did not advance one step towards the disproof of the possibility of creation, nor even towards the establishment of his favorite theory of unisubstancisme; for, grant that there is an uncreated and self-existent Being; grant, even, that there can be no more than one,—would it follow that there can be no created and dependent beings, or that they can only exist as "modes" or "affections" of that absolute Essence? Might they not exist as creatures, as products, as effects, without partaking of the nature of their cause?[126] Yet, if there be one idea more than another which Spinoza is anxious to extirpate, it is that of creation, and he summons the whole strength, both of his logic and sarcasm, when he has to deal with the argument from "final causes." And no marvel; for the doctrine of a creation would cut up his system by the roots. The radical difference, in fact, between Theism and Pantheism mainly consists in this: that the former regards creation as distinct from the Creator, as the product of His omnipotent and free will, as the object of His constant providential care, as the subject of His supreme control and government; whereas the latter represents it as a necessary emanation from the Divine substance, as an eternal development of the uncreated Essence; the finite, in all its forms, being a "mode" of the infinite, and the temporary phases of nature so many transient but ever-renewed manifestations of the unchangeable and eternal. These two conceptions are diametrically opposed; they cannot admit of conciliation or compromise; and hence the daring attempt of Spinoza to prove the impossibility of creation, even when he admits the existence of an Infinite and Eternal Being.

5. The system of Spinoza is vicious, because it involves erroneous conclusions respecting both the body and the soul. He denies that they are "substances." And why? Because, by the definition, "a substance" is that which is self-existent, and may be conceived without reference to any other being. Be it so. What does this argument amount to? Why, simply to this, that they are not gods. What, then, are they? Created beings? No. And why? Because creation is impossible, and, also, because whatever exists must be either a "substance," or an "attribute," or a "mode." What then? Clearly not an "attribute," for the only attributes known to us are extension and thought, and these attributes are as infinite as "the substance" to which they belong; they must therefore be "modes" or "affections" of that "substance." But in what sense? In the sense of being created, and therefore dependent, existences, whose nature and origin cannot be conceived of or accounted for without reference to the Being who produced them at first, and still continues to maintain them? No; for in that sense all Theists admit the derivation and dependence of every finite being; but they must be "modes" or "affections" of the one uncreated essence, mere phenomenal manifestations of it. The soul, whose essence is thought, is a mere succession of ideas. The body is a mere "mode" of the Divine "attribute" of extension; and neither the one nor the other can be described as a distinct being. They are affections, and nothing more, of the one infinite "substance."

It is important to remark that, according to this theory, the distinct personality of man is excluded, not less than the distinct personality of God. It is not easy, indeed, to explain this part of Spinoza's theory; for he has a subtle disquisition on the relation subsisting between the soul and the body, by means of which he attempts to explain the phenomena of self-consciousness, and to show that individual personality is not necessarily inconsistent with the doctrine which represents man as a mere "mode" of the Divine "substance." But one thing is clear: there is no room in the system of Spinoza for the distinct personality of man, in the ordinary acceptation of that expression. The unity, especially of the human soul, its individuality, its self-consciousness, its identity, as a being, dependent, indeed, on God, but really distinct from Him, must be sacrificed, if the system is to be saved; and no other being can be recognized but the absolute "substance," with its infinite "attributes" and its finite "modes." This consideration appears to us to be fatal to the whole theory. For it shows that the Pantheistic speculations, which are directed against the personality of God, are equally conclusive, if they be conclusive at all, against the personality of Man; that they run counter to the intuitive knowledge of the human mind; and that they cannot be embraced without doing violence to some of our clearest and surest convictions. For what clearer or surer conviction can there be than that of my own personal existence, as a distinct, self-conscious, intelligent, active, and responsible being? And yet the existence of our own bodies and souls is denied, except in so far as they are mere "modes" or affections of the one uncreated "substance," which is known, not by experience or observation, but by a transcendental faculty of intuition.

And, finally, the system of Spinoza is vicious, because the exposition of it is replete with the most manifest and glaring self-contradictions. His logical power has been so much admired, and his rigorous geometrical method so highly extolled, that his Philosophy has acquired a certain prestige, which commends it to many ardent, speculative minds. Yet there are few philosophical writers who have made a larger number of gratuitous assumptions, or who have abounded more in contradictory statements. The "Antinomies" of Spinoza might make the subject of an amusing, and even instructive, dissertation. Thus, by way of specimen, take the following:

God is extended; but, nevertheless, incorporeal.

God thinks; but, nevertheless, has no intelligence.

God is active; but, nevertheless, has no will.

The soul is a "mode" of the Divine thought; but, nevertheless, there is no analogy between God's thought and man's thought.

The love of God is the supreme law of man; but, nevertheless, it is equally lawful for man to live according to appetite or to reason.

The will of man, is, in no sense, free; but, nevertheless, there is a science of human ethics.

Man is under no natural obligation to obey God; but, nevertheless, God is his highest good.

God is neither a Lawgiver nor a Governor; but, nevertheless, a future state is necessary, that every man may have his due.

Might is Right, and Government has power to restrain "the liberty of Prophesying;" but, nevertheless, has no power to restrain "the liberty of Philosophizing."

These are only a few specimens of the gratuitous assumptions and flagrant contradictions with which his writings abound; but they afford a sufficient proof of the reckless character of his genius, and of the utter fallacy of the system which he promulgated as a rival, or as a substitute, for Natural and Revealed Religion.

On a review of what has been advanced, it must be manifest that the Pantheistic system of Spinoza is founded on principles assumed without proof, and embodied in his "definitions;" that it is constructed according to a philosophical method which is radically vicious; that it abounds in self-contradictory statements; and that it is opposed, at many points, to some of the clearest lessons of experience, and to some of the surest convictions of reason. It is a system which is not demonstrated, but merely developed. The germ of it exists in the "definitions;" deny these, and you destroy his whole philosophy. It cannot, therefore, be held sufficient to foreclose the question respecting the existence of a living, personal God, distinct from Nature and independent of it; nor can Pantheism, in this form, become the successful rival of Christian Theism, until the human mind has lost the power of discriminating between the different kinds of evidence to which they respectively appeal.

SECTION II.

MATERIAL OR HYLOZOIC PANTHEISM.

In the system of Spinoza, the two "attributes of extension and thought" and the corresponding "modes" of body and soul, were equally recognized, and were employed jointly, in connection with his favorite doctrine of Unisubstancisme. They constituted the opposite poles of his theory, but were both essential to its completeness. But most of his followers, influenced by an excessive desire for simplification, have attempted to blend the two into one; and have either merged the spiritual in the corporeal, or virtually annihilated the material by resolving it into the mental. Hence two distinct, and even opposite forms of Pantheism,—the material or hylozoic, and the ideal or spiritual.

The former was the first in the order of historical development, so far as modern Europe is concerned. It was most in accordance with the Sensational Philosophy which prevailed in the school of Condillac,[127] and which continued to maintain its ascendancy until it was assailed by the reviving spirit of Idealism. It was the characteristic feature of the Atheism of the last century, and was fully exhibited in the "Systeme de la Nature." The recent revival of Idealism has done much to check its progress, but it has not effected its destruction; on the contrary, the theory of Material or Hylozoic Pantheism is an error as inveterate as it is ancient, and it is continually reappearing even in the light of the intellectual and spiritual Psychology of the nineteenth century.

This theory, although it has been propounded as a religious creed, rests mainly on a philosophical dogma. It is based ultimately on the supposition that nothing exists in the universe except matter and its laws; that mind is the product of material organization; and that all the phenomena of thought, of feeling, of conscience, and even of religion, may be accounted for by ascribing them to certain powers inherent in matter, and evolved by certain peculiarities of cerebral structure. This fundamental assumption, on which the whole theory of Hylozoic Pantheism ultimately rests, will be subjected to examination in the sequel. We think that it may be best discussed separately and apart, for this among other reasons, that it stands equally related to the old mechanical Atheism and the new material Pantheism, and that, in point of fact, it has been applied indifferently to the support of both. Our remarks at present, therefore, will be directed, not to the refutation of Materialism, but to the exposition and exposure of the Pantheism which has been founded upon it.

It is not easy—perhaps it might be found, on trial, to be impossible—to show that there is any real difference, except in name, between mechanical Atheism and material Pantheism. Both equally affirm the self-existence and eternity of the Universe; both equally deny the fact of creation, and the doctrine of a living, personal God, distinct from nature, and superior to it. The only apparent difference between the two consists in this,—that the former speaks more of the rude materials, and the cold, hard, unbending laws, which exist in Nature; the latter speaks more of the vital powers, the subtle and ethereal forces, which are at work in her bosom, and which may seem to impart warmth and animation to a system that would otherwise be felt to be cold, inert, and deathlike. But the mechanical Atheist never denied the vital powers of Nature, he only attempted to account for them without an intelligent first Cause; and the material Pantheist has little, if any, advantage over him, except in this, that he has combined Chemistry with Mechanics in attempting to account for the phenomena of the universe, and has drawn his analogies from the laboratory and the crucible, the process of vegetation, and the laws of reproduction and growth, not less than from the formulae of Physical Science.

The theory of Material Pantheism runs insensibly into one or other of the forms of naked Atheism to which we have already referred. Ignoring the existence of mind, or of any spiritual Power distinct from Nature and superior to it, it must necessarily hold the eternal existence of matter; and, in this respect, it coincides entirely with the Atheistic hypothesis. It may, or it may not, hold also the eternal existence of the present order of Nature, including all the varieties of vegetable and animal life. In the one case, it harmonizes with the ancient theory of Atheism, as maintained by Ocellus Lucanus; in the other, it must run into the modern theory of Development, if it makes any attempt to account for the origin of new races, as made known by the researches of Geologists. In either case, it is equivalent to Atheism, and dependent on one or other of the various theories which have been applied to the defence of the Atheist's creed.

It is worthy of remark, in this connection, how frequently those who are the most daring and decided advocates of Atheism or Pantheism do nevertheless ascribe to Nature many of the attributes which belong to God only. This fact is admirably illustrated by the distinguished founder of the Boyle Lectureship;[128] and it is abundantly confirmed by examples which have been furnished by more recent times. The author of the "System of Nature," which appeared before the first French Revolution, was an avowed and most reckless Atheist;[129] yet he ascribes to Nature most of the attributes which are usually supposed to belong to God, such as self-existence, eternity, immutability, infinitude, and unity; and if the intellectual and moral attributes may seem to be omitted, as they must be, to some extent, in any system of Atheism, yet thought, design, and will, are expressly ascribed to Nature.[130] And the only difference between the Theist and the Atheist is said to be, that the latter ascribes all the phenomena of Nature "to material, natural, sensible, and known causes," while the former ascribes them to "spiritual, supernatural, unintelligible, and unknown causes;" or, in other words, "to an occult cause."[131] It is manifestly a matter of indifference whether this method of accounting for the phenomena of Nature be called Atheism or Pantheism; in either aspect it is essentially the same.

The more recent advocates of Atheism or Pantheism have often made use of similar language. M. Crousse affirms that "all nature is animated by an internal force which moves it;" that this is the true spontaneity, the causality, which is the origin of all sensible manifestations, for "mens agitat molem et magno se corpore miscet;" that "matter, the most cold and indifferent, is full of life, capable of engendering thought, and containing mind in it, at least potentially;" and that, to every man who has true insight, "the world feels, moves, speaks, and thinks."[132] The author of "The Purpose of Existence" makes it his grand object to show that "the evolvement of mind out of matter" is the primary law and final cause of the universe; that "this process commences with vegetation, extracting from matter the spirit of vitality;" that "this spirit is preserved amid the decay of vegetables, and transfused into animals, thus establishing the great working-principle of Nature, that spirit is extracted from matter by organized bodies, and survives their dissolution."[133] Of course, if matter have the power of evolving intelligent and even immortal minds by its own inherent properties and established laws, it will not be difficult to find in Nature a sufficient substitute for God.

But the most revolting specimen of that material Pantheism, which is only another name for absolute Atheism, that has recently appeared, occurs in the Letters of Atkinson and Martineau: "We require no supernatural causes, when we can recognize adequate natural causes, inherent in the constitution of Nature;" "nor are more causes to be admitted than are sufficient to produce any particular change or effect."—"Man has his place in Natural History; his nature does not essentially differ from that of the lower animals; he is but a fuller development, and varied condition, of the same fundamental nature or cause,—of that which we contemplate as matter, and its changes, relations, and properties. Mind is the consequence or product of the material man, its existence depending on the action of the brain."—"Its highest object seems to be, a sense of the infinite and abstract power,—the inherent force and principle of Nature."[134]

From these specimens it must be evident that whatever nominal distinction may exist between Material Pantheism and avowed Atheism, they are radically identical, and that, for all practical purposes, they may be treated as one and the same. From the same specimens we may derive some useful hints respecting the essential conditions and the right conduct of the Theistic argument. It is not enough to show that there must be a self-existent, eternal, and infinite First Cause, for this is admitted by the advocate of Material Pantheism, who substitutes Nature for God. It is further necessary to show that the actual phenomena of the Universe cannot be accounted for by means of any properties or powers inherent in itself; and that they must be ascribed to a living, intelligent, and powerful Being, distinct from Nature and superior to it. The theory of Materialism must be discussed on its own proper and peculiar merits, and if we find good cause to reject it, the main pillar of Material Pantheism will fall to the ground. In the mean time we shall only further observe, that this form of Pantheism cannot be maintained without the help either of the doctrine of the Eternity of Matter or of the Theory of Development, or, rather, without the aid of both; and that, if it could be established, Polytheism would be its natural product, if not its inevitable result.

SECTION III.

IDEAL PANTHEISM.

We have already seen that the system of Spinoza equally recognized the two "attributes" of extension and thought, and the two corresponding "modes" of body and soul, in connection with the one infinite and eternal "Substance." We have also seen that most of his followers have taken a one-sided view of the subject, and have either merged the spiritual into the corporeal, so as to educe a Material or Hylozoic Pantheism, or have virtually annihilated the material by resolving it into the mental, so as to educe a system of Ideal or Spiritual Pantheism.

"In Spinoza," says Mr. Morell, "we see the model upon which the modern Idealists of Germany have renewed their search into the absolute ground of all phenomena;" and there can be no doubt that his speculations contain the germ of Ideal as well as of Material Pantheism. The historical filiation of modern Pantheism cannot be satisfactorily explained, in either of its two forms, without reference to his writings; and yet its precise character, as it is developed in more recent systems, demands for its full elucidation some knowledge of the course and progress of philosophical speculation in the interval which elapsed between the death of Spinoza and the subsequent developments of his theory.

We cannot here attempt to trace the history of German Idealism, from its source in the writings of Leibnitz, through the logical school of Wolfius and his successors, till it reached its culminating point in the philosophy of Hegel:—we shall content ourselves with a brief reference to the fundamental principles of Kant's system, which may be justly said to have contained the prolific germs, or, at least, to have determined the prevailing character, of all the subsequent speculations of the German schools. For if modern Pantheism be indebted to Spinoza for its substance, it is equally indebted to Kant for its form; and no intelligible account can be given of the phases which it has successively assumed, without reference to the powerful influence which his Philosophy, in one or other of its constituent elements, has exerted on all his successors in the same field of inquiry.

The Philosophy of Kant has a most important bearing on the whole question as to the validity of the natural evidence for the being and perfections of God. We shall confine our attention to those parts of his system which give rise to the speculations that have issued in the recent theories of Ideal or Spiritual Pantheism.

In attempting to explain the nature and origin of the whole system of human knowledge, Kant divides our intellectual being into three distinct faculties,—sensation, understanding, and reason. He supposes that from sensation we derive the whole matter of our knowledge; that from the understanding we derive its form, or the manner in which it is conceived of by us; and that from reason we derive certain general or abstract notions, which are highly useful, since they give a systematic unity to human thought, but which have no objective validity, that is, either no reality in nature that corresponds to them, or none, at least, that can be scientifically demonstrated. From this fundamental principle of his system it follows, that the only part of our knowledge which has any objective reality is that which is derived from our sense-perceptions, all else being purely formal or subjective, and arising solely from the laws of our own mental nature, which determine us to conceive of things in a particular way; and that even that part of our knowledge which is derived from sense-perception is purely phenomenal, since we know nothing of any object around us beyond the bare fact that it exists, and that it appears to us to be as our senses represent it. Hence the skeptical tendency of Kant's speculations, in so far as the scientific certainty of our knowledge is concerned. The practical utility of that knowledge is not disputed, but its objective reality, or the possibility of proving it, is, to a large extent, denied. Still he admits a primitive dualism, and a radical distinction between the subject and the object, between the mind which thinks and the matter of its thoughts. The matter comes from without, the form from within; and the senses are the channels through which the phenomena of nature are poured into the mould of the human mind. All knowledge implies this combination of matter with form, and is possible only on the supposition of the concurrent action both of the object and subject; not that either of the two is known to us in its essence, or that their real existence can be scientifically demonstrated, for we know the subject only in its relation to the object, and the object only in its relation to the subject; but that this relation necessarily requires the joint action of both, by which alone we can acquire the only knowledge of which we are capable, and which is supposed to be purely phenomenal, relative, and subjective. It is true that we are capable of forming certain grand ideas, such as that of God, the universe, and the soul; but these are the pure products of Reason, the mere personifications of our own modes of thinking, and have no objective reality, at least none that can be scientifically demonstrated. But, while "the Speculative Reason" is held to be incompetent to prove the existence of God, "the Practical Reason" is appealed to; and in the conscious liberty of the soul, and its sense of incumbent moral duty,—"the Categorical Imperative,"—Kant finds materials for reconstructing the basis and fabric of a true Theology, not scientifically perfect, but practically sufficient for all the purposes of life.

It was scarcely possible that Philosophy could find a permanent resting-place in such a theory as this; for, while it recognized both the "object" and the "subject" as equally indispensable, the one for the matter, the other for the form, of human knowledge, it did not hold the balance even between the two. It assigned so much to the "subject," and so little to the "object," and made so large a part of our knowledge merely formal and subjective, that it could neither be regarded as a self-consistent system of Skepticism, nor yet as a satisfactory basis for Scientific Belief. It was almost inevitable that speculative minds, starting from this point, should diverge into one or other of three courses; either following the line of the "subject" exclusively, and treating the "object" as a superfluous incumbrance, so as to reach, as Schulz and Maimon did, a pure Subjective Idealism, akin to utter Skepticism; or following the line of the "object," and giving it greater prominence than it had in the system of Kant, so as to lay the foundation, as Jacobi and Herbart did, of a system of Objective Certitude; or keeping both in view, and attempting, as Fichte, Schelling, and Hegel did, to blend the two into one, so as to reduce them to systematic unity.[135]

In Kant's system a dualism was admitted, a real distinction between the "subject" and "object" of thought; but he had ascribed so much to the subject, and so little to the object, that Fichte conceived the idea of dispensing with the latter altogether, and constructing his whole philosophy on a purely subjective basis. Since Kant had taught that all objects are conceived of either according to the forms of our sensational faculty, or the categories of our understanding, or the ideas of pure reason, it seemed to be unnecessary to suppose the existence of any object distinct from the mind itself. For if it be the mind which furnishes the form of Space, and gives us the idea of Substance, of Cause, of Being, the mind alone might suffice to account for the whole sum of human knowledge. Fichte was followed by Schelling, and Schelling by Hegel, each differing from his predecessor, but all concurring in the attempt to identify "Seyn," or absolute Being, with Thought, and to represent everything in the universe as a mere mode or manifestation of one Infinite Essence. The identity of Existence and Thought is the fundamental principle of Hegel's doctrine. With him, Being and the Idea of being, are the same; and Being and Thought are combined in the "Absolute," which is at once ideal and real (l'etre and l'idee). With him, the idea of God is that of a logical process of thought, "ever unfolding itself, but never unfolded,"—a dialectic movement rather than a Divine Being, which realizes itself, and reaches a state of self-consciousness in man. God, nature, and man, are but one process of thought, considered in different aspects; all finite personalities are only so many thoughts of one eternal mind; God is in man, and man is in God, and the progress of humanity, in all its stages, is a Divine development.

This bare outline of these systems must suffice for our present purpose, and we now proceed to offer a few remarks on the doctrine of Ideal as distinguished from Material Pantheism.

1. The whole system of "Idealism," as propounded in the German schools, is utterly baseless, and contradicts the intuitive, the universal convictions of the human mind. For what is Idealism? Reduced to its utmost simplicity, and expressed in the briefest formula, it amounts, in substance, to this: that the whole universe is to us a mere process of thought, and that nothing exists, or, at least, can be known by us, beyond the ideas of our own minds. And what is the ground on which it rests? It rests entirely on the assumption, that, since we can know nothing otherwise than through the exercise of our mental faculties, these faculties must be the sole sources of all our knowledge, and altogether independent of any external object. According to this theory, the mind is not informed or instructed by the universe, but the universe is created by the mind; the objective is developed from the subjective; and there is no reality anywhere except in the region of consciousness. Nature is seen only as it is imaged in the mirror within; and to us it is a mere phantasmagoria, a series of phenomena, a succession of thoughts. "The sum total," says Fichte, "is this; there is absolutely nothing permanent, either without me or within me, but only an unceasing change. I know absolutely nothing of any existence, not even of my own. I myself know nothing, and am nothing. Images there are; they constitute all that apparently exists; and what they know of themselves is after the manner of images; images that pass and vanish without there being aught to witness their transition; that consist, in fact, of the images of images, without significance and without an aim. I myself am one of these images; nay, I am not even thus much, but only a confused image of images. All reality is converted into a marvellous dream, without a life to dream of, and without a mind to dream,—into a dream made up only of a dream itself. Perception is a dream; thought—the source of all existence, and all the reality which I imagine to myself of my existence, of my power, of my destination—is the dream of that dream."[136]

The tendency of such speculations as these towards universal Skepticism, or even absolute Nihilism, with the exception only of certain fleeting phenomena of Consciousness, is too apparent to require any formal proof; and it must be equally evident that they contradict some of the most universal and deeply-rooted convictions of the human mind. The ultimate ground of every system of Idealism which excludes the knowledge of an external world must be one or other of these two assumptions, or a combination of both: either, that our knowledge cannot extend beyond the range of consciousness, which takes cognizance only of ideas, or of subjective mental states; or that any attempt to extend it beyond these limits, so as to embrace external objects as really existing, can only be successful on this condition,—that we prove, by reasoning from the subjective to the objective, that there is a necessary logical connection between the state of the one and the reality of the other. Each of these assumptions is equally groundless. It is true that consciousness, strictly so called, takes cognizance only of what passes within; it is not true that consciousness, in this restricted sense, is commensurate with our entire knowledge. It is true that we acquire our knowledge only through the exercise of our mental faculties; it is not true that our mental faculties are the only sources of our knowledge, nor even that, without the concurrence of certain objects, they could give us any knowledge at all. It is true that there must be a connection between the subjective and the objective; it is not true that this connection must be established by reasoning, or that we must prove the existence of an external world distinct from the thinking mind, before we are entitled to believe in it. For a great part of our knowledge is presentative, and we directly perceive the objects of Nature not less than the phenomena of Consciousness.

When it is said, in the jargon of the modern German philosophy, that "the Ego has no immediate consciousness of the Non-Ego as existing, but that the Non-Ego is only represented to us in a modification of the self-conscious Ego, and is, in fact, only a phenomenon of the Ego,"—a plain, practical Englishman, little tolerant of these subtle distinctions, might be ready, if not deterred by the mere sound of the words, to test them by a particular example. What am I to think, he might say, of my own father and mother? They are familiarly known to me. I have seen them, and talked with, them, and loved them as my own soul. I have hitherto believed that they existed, and that they were really a father and mother to me. But now I am taught that they are—mere modifications of my own mind; that they are nothing more than simple phenomena of the self-conscious Ego; and that, so far from being the earthly authors of my existence, they are themselves—the creation and offspring of my own thought. And on what ground am I asked to receive this astonishing discovery? Why, simply because I can be sure of nothing but the facts of consciousness. But how are these facts proved? They "need no proof; they are self-evident; they are immediately and irresistibly believed." Be it so. I can just as little doubt of the existence of my body, of the distinct personality of my parents, and the reality of an external universe, as of any fact of consciousness. May it not be, whether we can explain it or not, that the one set of facts is as directly presented, and needs as little to be proved, as the other?

2. The doctrine of "Identity" constitutes a prominent and indispensable part of the theory of Idealism, and is the ground-principle of Philosophical Pantheism. It amounts, in substance, to the proposition, that Existence and Thought are one, that the "subject" and "object" of knowledge are one. "If the doctrine of Identity means anything, it means that Thought and Being are essentially one; that the process of thinking is virtually the same as the process of creating; that in constructing the universe by logical deduction, we do virtually the same thing as Deity accomplishes in developing himself in all the forms and regions of creation; that every man's reason, therefore, is really God; in fine, that Deity is the whole sum of consciousness immanent in the world."[137] It is through the medium of this doctrine of Identity that Idealism passes into Pantheism,—not, indeed, the Idealism of Berkeley, which recognized, consistently or otherwise, the existence of the human mind and of the Divine Spirit, while it denied the independent existence of matter,—but the Idealism of Fichte and others, which resolved mind into a mere process of thought, a continuous stream or succession of ideas. To such a theory the doctrine of Identity was indispensable. Its advocates were bound to show that nothing existed, or could be proved to exist, in the universe but thought, and that, in every case, the subject and object of thought might be identified as one. We find, accordingly, that from the earliest ages down to the present time, the idea of "absolute unity," or "universal identity," has been frequently exhibited in connection with the speculations of philosophical Idealists. The disciples of the Eleatic school in ancient Greece, not less than those of the modern schools of Germany, insisted on the identity of thought and its object, and regarded everything that might seem to be external to the mind as a mere illusion.

It may be difficult for the British mind, familiarized from infancy with the philosophy of common sense, to grasp the idea which this doctrine involves; but, on the principles of absolute Idealism, it may be easily explained, and may even seem to have some foundation in facts that must be acknowledged by all. There are two cases, particularly, which may serve to illustrate, if they cannot suffice to prove, it. The first is that of the Supreme Intelligence, conceived as existing before the production of a created universe, when He was himself the sole "subject" and the sole "object" of thought; in other words, the absolute "Subject-Object." The second is that of the human consciousness, conceived as occupied solely with certain subjective mental states, when the mind may be said to be at once the "subject" and the "object" of its own thought. There are cases, then, in which mind may be regarded as a "subject-object;" the case of human consciousness, when the mind takes cognizance of its own states or acts, and the case of the Divine consciousness, while as yet the created universe had not been called into being. But the question is, whether, in all cases, the "subject" and "object" of thought are the same? or, whether existence and thought are universally identical? An affirmative answer to this question would imply, that nothing whatever exists except only in the mind that perceives it; that, according to Bishop Berkeley, "the existence of unthinking things without any relation to their being perceived" is an absurd or impossible supposition; that "their esse is percipi," that is, that their being consists in their being perceived or known; whence it would follow, as Berkeley himself admits, that we have no reason to believe in the continued existence of the desk at which we write, after we have left the room in which we see it, excepting such as may arise from the supposition, that if we returned to that room we might still see it, or that in our absence it may still be perceived by some other mind. Existence is identified with thought, and nothing exists save only as it is thought of. Why? Simply because it can become known to us only through the medium of consciousness, and that, too, in no other character than as a phenomenon of our own minds.

That this doctrine is at direct variance with the universal convictions of mankind, is too evident to require the slightest proof. That it is unphilosophical, as well as unpopular, may be made apparent by two very simple considerations. The first is, that it assumes without proof the only point in question, namely, that the objects of our knowledge are nothing but the ideas of our own minds; whereas it is affirmed, on the other side, and surely with at least an equal amount of apparent reason, that we are so constituted as to have a direct perception of external objects as well as of internal mental states. The second is, that the very formula of Idealism, which represents the "Non-ego" as a mere modification of the conscious "Ego," seems to involve a palpable contradiction; since it recognizes, in a certain sense, the difference between the "Ego and the Non-ego," and yet, in the same breath, annihilates that difference, and proclaims their "identity."[138] Fichte admits, indeed, that we have the idea of something which is not-self; but instead of ascribing it to an external object, he accounts for it by a law of our mental nature, which constrains us to create a limit, so as to give a determinate character to our thought. The three technical formulas, therefore, which are said[139] to express, respectively,—the affirmation of self,—the affirmation of not-self,—and the determination of the one by the other,—are all equally the products of our own mental laws, and do not necessarily require the supposition of any external object; and hence it follows that Self is the one only absolute principle, and that everything else that is conceived of is constructed out of purely subjective materials. The question whether the "object" be the generative principle of the "idea," or vice versa, is thus superseded; for there is no longer any distinction between "object" and "subject;" existence is identified with thought; the Ego and the Non-ego unite in one absolute existence; and Self becomes the sole Subject-object, the percipient and the perceived, the knowing and the known.

Of course, on this theory, there is no knowledge of God, just as there can be no knowledge of Nature, and no knowledge of our fellow-men, as distinct objective realities; it is a system of pure Idealism, which, if consistently followed out, must terminate in utter skepticism in regard to many of the most familiar objects of human knowledge; or, rather, in the hands of a thoroughly consequent reasoner, it must issue, as Jacobi endeavored to show, in absolute Nihilism; since we can have no better reason for believing in the existence of Self than we have for believing in the reality of an external world, and the coexistence of our fellow-men. Each of these beliefs is equally the spontaneous product of certain mental laws, which are just as trustworthy, and need as little to be proved, in the one case as in the other.

Fichte seems to have become aware of this fundamental defect of his system; and, at a later period, he attempted to give it a firmer basis by representing self, not as individual, but as Divine, that is, as the Absolute manifesting itself in Man. He now admitted what, if he had not denied, he had overlooked before, an essential reality as the substratum both of the Ego and Non-ego; a reality of which all things, whether within or without, are only so many "modes" or manifestations. And it is at this point that his subjective Idealism passes into Pantheism, and that we mark the close affinity between his speculations and those of Spinoza. There is, in some respects, a wide difference between the two; Spinoza assumed, Fichte denied, the existence of matter; the former affirmed Substance to be the absolute and infinite Essence; the latter proclaimed a spiritual universe, whose essence was the infinite reason, or the Divine idea: but still, with these and other points of difference, there existed a real, radical affinity between the two systems, that of Fichte, not less than that of Spinoza, being based on the identity of existence and thought; and both systems being directed to show that there is but one Absolute Being, of which all phenomena, whether material or mental, are only so many modes or manifestations.

3. The philosophy of "the absolute," as applied in support of German Pantheism, depends on the doctrine of "Identity," and must stand or fall along with it.[140] The "absolute" is described as being at once ideal and real, pure being and pure thought, and as developing itself in a great variety of forms. The philosophy of the "absolute" is represented as the only science, properly so called: it is assumed that there can be no science of the finite, the variable, the contingent, the relative, but only of the absolute, the unchangeable, and the infinite. To constitute this science, the doctrine of "identity" is indispensable; the subject and the object of thought, knowledge and being, must be reduced to scientific unity. Realism and Idealism are thus blended together, or rather identified in the philosophy of the "absolute." The idea of the "absolute," in which being and thought are identical, is the only foundation of science, and the ultimate ground of all certitude. And Pantheism is inferred from this idea; for the "absolute," in which being and thought are identified, is properly the sole existence, which develops and manifests itself in a great variety of finite forms.

We are not disposed to treat the philosophy of the "absolute" either with levity or with scorn. We feel that it brings us into contact with some of the most profound and most deeply mysterious problems of human thought. Finite as we are, we are so constituted that we cannot avoid framing the idea, although we can never attain to a comprehension, of the Infinite. There are absolute truths, and necessary truths, among the elements of human knowledge. Account for them as we may, their reality cannot be reasonably denied, nor their importance disparaged. There is a tendency—and a most useful one—in the human mind, to seek unity in all things, to trace effects to causes, to reduce phenomena to laws, to resolve the complex into the simple, and to rise from the contingent to the absolute, from the finite to the infinite. There are few more interesting inquiries in the department of Psychology than that which seeks to investigate the nature, the origin, and the validity of those ideas which introduce us into the region of absolute, eternal, and immutable Truth; and it were a lamentable result of the erratic speculations of Germany did they serve to cast discredit on this inquiry, or even to excite a prejudice against it, in the more sober, but not less profound, minds of our own countrymen. But there need be little apprehension on this score, if it be clearly understood and carefully remembered, that the philosophy of the absolute, as taught in Germany and applied in support of Pantheism, rests ultimately on the theory of Idealism and the doctrine of Identity, by which all is resolved into one absolute "subject-object," and existence is identified with thought. This system may be discarded, and yet there may still remain a sound, wholesome, and innocuous philosophy of the "absolute;" a philosophy which does not seek to identify things so generically different as existence and thought, or to reduce mind and matter, the finite and the infinite, to the same category; but which, recognizing the differences subsisting between the various objects of thought, seeks merely to investigate the nature and sources of that part of human knowledge which relates to absolute or necessary truths. The former of these rival systems may be favorable to Pantheism, the latter will be found to be in entire accordance with Christian Theism.

The fundamental principle of philosophical Pantheism is either the unity of substance, as taught by Spinoza, or the identity of existence and thought, as taught, with some important variations, by Fichte, Schelling, and Hegel. The Absolute is conceived of, not as a living Being to whom a proper personality and certain intelligible attributes may be ascribed, but as a vague, indeterminate somewhat, which has no distinctive character, and of which, in the first instance, or prior to its development, almost nothing can be either affirmed or denied. But this absolute existence, by some unknown, inherent necessity, develops, determines, and limits itself: it becomes being, and constitutes all being: the infinite passes into the finite, the absolute into the relative, the necessary into the contingent, the one into the many; all other existences are only so many modes or forms of its manifestation. Here is a theory which, to say the very least, is neither more intelligible, nor less mysterious, than any article of the Christian faith. And what are the proofs to which it appeals, what the principles on which it rests? Its two fundamental positions are these; that finite things have no distinct existence as realities in nature, and that there exists only one Absolute Being, manifesting itself in a variety of forms. And how are they demonstrated? Simply by the affirmation of universal "Identity." But what if this affirmation be denied? What if, founding on the clearest data of consciousness, we refuse to acknowledge that existence is identical with thought?[141] What if we continue to believe that there are objects of thought which are distinct from thought itself, and which must be presented to the mind before they can be represented by the mind? What if, while we recognize the idea both of the finite and the infinite, the relative and the absolute, the contingent and the necessary, we cannot, by the utmost effort of our reason, obliterate the difference between them, so as to reduce them to one absolute essence? Then the whole superstructure of Pantheism falls along with the Idealism on which it depends; and it is found to be, not a solid and enduring system of truth, but a frail edifice, ingeniously constructed out of the mere abstractions of the human mind.

The advocates of this system assume that the relations which subsist between beings are the same as the relations which subsist between our ideas, and infer that logic is sufficient to construct a system of metaphysic. But Professor Nicolas has well said, that "while it is certain we cannot know things but by the notions which we have of them, and a certain parallelism may thus be established between what exists and what we think of that which exists, yet from this to the identity of being and thought, such as Pantheism requires, there is a vast distance, and we have no ground for believing that the logical relations of our ideas are identical with the real relations of beings. Speculative Pantheism is wholly built on this assumption. It describes the relations of being according to the logical relations of our thought; and it takes logic for a kind of metaphysic. It confounds the laws of thought with the laws of being. It seeks to solve the question, What is the first Being, and what are its relations to other beings? That Being must necessarily be the condition of all other beings, and must virtually contain them all; nay, it must be capable of becoming all things. It must therefore be simple, indeterminate, indifferent, possessing no essential character, resembling nothing that we actually know. All this is true of our ideas, but not of beings. The highest idea,—that which is the logical condition of all others, and also the most general, the most abstract, the most indeterminate,—this idea contains all others, and by receiving this or that determination, it becomes this or that particular idea. But what is true of the idea is not true of the being; no such vague, indeterminate, indifferent being exists; and yet Pantheism confounds the idea with the being, and rests entirely on that confusion of thought."

* * * * *

In bringing our review of Modern Pantheism to a close, we may offer a few remarks illustrative of its nature and tendency, whether considered as a system of speculative thought, or as a substitute for religious belief.

In this view, it is important to observe, first of all, that the theory of "Idealism," and the doctrine of "Identity," which constitute the groundwork of the more spiritual form of Pantheism, are not more adverse to our belief in the existence and personality of God, than they are to our belief in the reality of an external world, or in the existence and personality of man himself. They stand equally related to each of these three topics; and, if they be accepted at all, they must be impartially applied, and consistently carried out into all their legitimate consequences, as the only philosophical solution of the whole question of Ontology. Perhaps this is not understood; certainly it has not been duly considered by the more superficial litterateurs, who have been slightly tinctured with Pantheism; but it will be acknowledged at once by every consistent Idealist, who understands his own philosophy, and who is honest or bold enough to carry it out into all its practical applications. He knows very well, and, if sufficiently candid, he will frankly confess, that the principles on which he founds, if they be conclusive against the existence of a living, personal God, are equally conclusive against the reality of an external world, and against the doctrine of our own personality or that of our fellow-men. With most minds, this consideration would be of itself a powerful counteractive to all that is most dangerous in the theory of Idealism, were it only clearly apprehended and steadily kept in view; for an argument which proves too much is justly held to prove nothing, and that theory which leaves us no right to believe in the existence of Nature, or in the distinct personality of our fellow-men, can scarcely be held sufficient to disprove the existence of God.

It may be observed, further, that Ideal Pantheism has a strong tendency to engender a spirit either of Mysticism, on the one hand, or of Skepticism on the other. It terminates in Mysticism when, seeking to avoid Skepticism, it takes refuge in the doctrine of an "intellectual intuition," such as gives an immediate knowledge of the Absolute: and it terminates in Skepticism when, seeking to avoid Mysticism, it rejects the doctrine of "intellectual intuition," and discovers that it has no other and no higher claims to our confidence than such as are equally possessed by any one of our common faculties, whose testimony the Idealist has been taught to distrust and doubt.

It is further worthy of remark, that the philosophy of the Absolute, as taught in the German schools, has been applied to the whole circle of the Sciences, not less than to Theology, and that it has given birth to numerous speculative systems, in Physics, in Chemistry, in Ethics, in History, and in Politics, all strongly marked by the same characteristic feature—the substitution of a priori and deductive speculation for the more sober and legitimate method of Inductive inquiry. The province of Natural Science, in which, if anywhere, we should be guided by the light of experience and observation, has been rudely invaded by this transcendental philosophy, which offers to construct a theory of universal knowledge on the basis of a certain self-development of the Absolute. We are indebted to Mr. Morell for a specimen,[142] alike amusing and instructive, of Schelling's speculations on this subject. We shall not attempt to interpret its meaning, for, in sooth, we do not pretend to understand it: but one thing is clear, the laws of Matter, of Dynamics, of Organic structure and life, the laws of Knowledge, of Action, and of Art, are all exhibited as mere deductions or corollaries from the "idea of the Absolute;" and in the name of Natural Science, not less than on behalf of Theology, we protest against this vicious method of Philosophy, and do most earnestly deprecate the substitution of Fichte, Schelling, and Hegel, in the place of our own Bacon, and Boyle, and Newton, as models of scientific thought.

The practical influence of Pantheism, in so far as its peculiar tendencies are not restrained or counteracted by more salutary beliefs, must be deeply injurious, both to the individual and social welfare of mankind. In its Ideal or Spiritual form it may be seductive to some ardent, imaginative minds; but it is a wretched creed notwithstanding; and it will be found, when calmly examined, to be fraught with the most serious evils. It has been commended, indeed, in glowing terms, as a creed alike beautiful and beneficent,—as a source of religious life nobler and purer than any that can ever spring from the more gloomy system of Theism: for, on the theory of Pantheism, God is manifest to all, everywhere, and at all times; Nature, too, is aggrandized and glorified, and everything in Nature is invested with a new dignity and interest; above all, Man is conclusively freed from all fantastic hopes and superstitious fears, so that his mind can now repose, with tranquil satisfaction, on the bosom of the Absolute, unmoved by the vicissitudes of life, and unscared even by the prospect of death. For what is death? The dissolution of any living organism is but one stage in the process of its further development; and whether it passes into a new form of self-conscious life, or is reabsorbed into the infinite, it still forms an indestructible element in the vast sum of Being. We may, therefore, or, rather, we must, leave our future state to be determined by Nature's inexorable laws, and we need, at least, fear no Being higher than Nature, to whose justice we are amenable, or whose frown we should dread.[143] But, even as it is thus exhibited by some of its warmest partisans, it appears to us, we own, to be a dreary and cheerless creed, when compared with that faith which teaches us to regard God as our "Father in heaven," and that "hope which is full of immortality." It is worse, however, than dreary; it is destructive of all religion and of all morality. If it be an avowed antagonist to Christianity, it is not less hostile to Natural Theology and to Ethical Science. It consecrates error and vice, as being, equally with truth and virtue, necessary and beneficial manifestations of the "infinite." It is a system of Syncretism, founded on the idea that error is only an incomplete truth, and maintaining that truth must necessarily be developed by error, and virtue by vice. According to this fundamental law of "human progress," Atheism itself may be providential; and the axiom of a Fatalistic Optimism—"Whatever is, is best"—must be admitted equally in regard to truth and error, to virtue and vice.

It may be further observed, that modern Pantheism, whether in its Material or Ideal form, is nothing else than the revival of some of the earliest and most inveterate Principles of Paganism,—the same Paganism which still flourishes among the "theosophic" dreamers of India, and which exhibits its practical fruits in the horrors of Hindoo superstition. For Pantheism, although repeatedly revived and exhibited in new forms, has made no real progress since the time when it was first taught in the Vedanta system, and sublimed in the schools of Alexandria. Christianity, which encountered and triumphed over it in her youth, can have nothing to fear from it in her mature age,[144] provided only that she be faithful to herself, and spurn every offered compromise. But there must be no truce, and no attempt at conciliation between the two. The Pantheists of Germany have made the most impudent claims to the virtual sanction of Christianity; they have even dared to make use of Bible terms in a new sense, and have spoken of Revelation, Inspiration, Incarnation, Redemption, Atonement, and Regeneration, in such a way as to adapt them to the Pantheistic hypothesis. Common honesty is outraged, and the conscience of universal humanity offended, by the conduct of individuals—some of them wearing the robes of the holy ministry—who have substituted the dreams of Pantheism for the doctrines of Jesus Christ, and assailed, both from the pulpit and the press, the sacred cause which they had solemnly vowed to maintain. But even in Germany itself a powerful reaction has commenced; and the learning and labors of such men as Olshausen, and Tholuck, and Hengstenberg, may be hailed as the dawn of a better and brighter day.

It may be observed, finally, that Pantheism stands directly opposed to Christian Theism in several distinct respects. The following are the principal points of collision between the two:

1. Pantheism denies,—Christian Theism affirms, the existence of a living, personal God, distinct from Nature, and superior to it.

2. Pantheism supersedes,—Christian Theism reveals, the doctrine of a real creation.

3. Pantheism contests,—Christian Theism confirms, the doctrine of the constant providence and moral government of God.

4. Pantheism disowns,—Christian Theism declares, the doctrine of a conscious, personal immortality.

5. Pantheism rejects,—Christian Theism receives, the whole scheme of Revelation, considered as a supernatural code of Divine truth. The one accounts for its origin on the principle of natural development, the other on that of supernatural interposition.

6. Pantheism has no living, self-conscious, personal God, no loving Father, no watchful Providence, no Hearer of Prayer, no Object of confiding trust, no Redeemer, no Sanctifier, no Comforter: it leaves us with nothing higher than Nature as our portion here, and nothing beyond its eternal vicissitudes as our prospect hereafter.

FOOTNOTES:

[103] AMAND SAINTES, "Histoire de la Vie et des Ouvrages de Spinoza, Fondateur de l'Exegese et de la Philosophie Modernes."

[104] M. COUSIN, "Cours de l'Histoire de la Philosophie," I. 403. See also "Fragmens Philosophiques," Preface, second edition, p. XXVII.; "Nouveaux Fragments," pp. 9, 160.

[105] M. AD. FRANCK, "De la Certitude," Preface, p. XXI.

[106] M. A. JAVARI, "De la Certitude," p. 509.

[107] AMAND SAINTES, "Histoire de la Vie et des Ouvrages de Spinoza," pp. 208, 210.

[108] ABBE MARET, "Essai sur le Pantheisme dans les Societes Modernes," pp. 6, 11, 31. Ibid., "Theodicee Chretienne," pp. 437, 444, 449.

[109] MR. MORELL'S "Historical and Critical View," II. 104, 153.

[110] PIERRE LEROUX, "De l'Humanite," I. vi. 3, 295.

[111] L. D. CROUSSE, "Des Principes, ou Philosophie Premiere," 2d Edition, Paris, 1846.

[112] ABBE MARET, "Theodicee Chretienne," p. 94.

[113] ABBE GOSCHLER, sur "l'Histoire du Pantheisme." ABBE MARET, "Essai," chap. IV.

[114] PIERRE LEROUX, "De l'Humanite," I. 249. M. CROUSSE, "Des Principes," pp. 199, 211, 296. BAYLE, "Pensees," III. 67. The well-known lines of the sixth AEneid, "Principio coelum, ac terras, camposque liquentes," &c. are thus applied.

[115] ABBE MARET, "Essai," pp. 152, 156, 221.

[116] DR. MERLE D'AUBIGNE, "History of Reformation," V. 84.

[117] ABBE MARET, "Essai," p. 89; "Theodicee," p. 368.

[118] FRED. VON SCHLEGEL, "Philosophy of Life," p. 417. See, also, DR. THOLUCK'S remarks on the same point in the "Princeton Theological Essays," I. 555.

[119] MUSAEUS, "Tractatus Theologico-politicus ad veritatis lumen examinatus," 1674. REGNERI A MANSVELT, "Adversus anonymum Theologico-politicum, Liber singularis," 1674. FRANCOIS CUYPER, "Arcana Atheismi Revelata," 1676. JOHN BREDENBOURG, "Enervatio Tractatus Theol.-polit." CHRIST. WITTICHII, "Anti-Spinoza, sive Examen," 1690. PIERRE POIRET, "Fundamenta Atheismi Eversa, sive Specimen Absurditatis Spinozianae." FENELON, "De l'Existence de Dieu," p. II., c. III., "Refutation du Spinozisme." HUET, "La Conformite de la Raison avec la Foi," 1692. HOWE, "Living Temple," I. 262. S. CLARKE, "Discourse on the Being and Attributes of God," pp. 25, 44, 58, 80.

[120] JEAN COLERUS, "Vie de Spinoza," reprinted by Saisset, p. 4.

[121] SPINOZA, "Ethica," Definitions III., IV., V.

[122] "Il construit le systeme entiere des etres avec ces trois seuls elements; la substance, l'attribut, et le mode."—"Voila l'idee mere de la metaphysique de Spinoza."—SAISSET.

[123] SAISSET, "Introduction," p. XXXIX.

[124] SPINOZA, "De Intellectus Emendatione." This treatise contains the exposition of his method.

[125] M. F. PERRON, "Essai d'une Nouvelle Theorie sur les Idees Fondamentales," 1843.

[126] "Ici, a prendre les mots dans le sens ordinaire, il semble qu'il soit demontre qui la Creation est impossible, principe justement cher au Pantheisme; tandis qu'au fond, tout ce qui est demontre, c'est que l'Etre en soi est necessairement incree,—verite incontestable, dont le Pantheisme n'a rien a tirer."—PROF. SAISSET, Introduction, p. XLII.

[127] M. L'ABBE DE CONDILLAC, "Traite des Sensations," 2 vols.

[128] The HON. ROBERT BOYLE, "Theological Works," II. 79.—"A Free Inquiry into the Received Notion of Nature."

[129] "Systeme de la Nature," II. 75, 110, 115.

[130] "Tout est toujours dans l'ordre relativement a la Nature, ou tous les etres ne font que suivre les loix qui leur sont imposees. Il est entre dans son plans que de certaines terres produiroient des fruits delicieux, tandis que d'autres ne fourniroient que des epines, des vegetaux dangereux. Elle a volu que quelques societes produise des sages," &c.—Vol. I. 265, also 267.

[131] "Systeme de la Nature," II. 102.

[132] M. CROUSSE, "Des Principes," Paris, 1846, pp. 81, 93: "Pour qui sait voir, le Monde sent, se ment, parle, et pense."

[133] "The Purpose of Existence," pp. 85, 89. London, 1850.

[134] "Letters on the Laws of Man's Nature and Development." By H. G. ATKINSON and HARRIET MARTINEAU. London, 1852.

[135] MR. MORELL, "History of Philosophy," II. 71.

[136] SIR WM. HAMILTON'S Edition of DR. REID'S "Works," p. 129.

[137] MR. MORELL, "History of Philosophy," II. 127. M. MARET, "Essai sur le Pantheisme," pp. 129, 133, 143, 192, 276. Ibid., "Theodicee," pp. 5, 123, 192, 199.

[138] SIR WILLIAM HAMILTON'S edition of REID'S "Works," p. 281. Sir William does not seem to admit that there is a contradiction such as I have noted.

[139] 1. "The ego or moi affirms itself." 2. "The ego or moi affirms a non-ego or non-moi." 3. "The ego or moi affirms itself to be determined by the non-ego or non-moi."

[140] M. MARET, "Essai," pp. 129, 142, 146, 175, 192, 225, 276. Ibid., "Theodicee," pp. 193, 366, 378, 386, 394. MR. MORELL, "History," II. 127, 138.

[141] PROFESSOR NICOLAS, "Quelques Considerations sur le Pantheisme," pp. 20-31.

[142] MR. MORELL, "History of Philosophy," II. 129.

[143] M. CROUSSE, "Des Principes." M. MARET, "Essal," pp. 69, 86, 150; "Theodicee" pp. 311, 314. VALROGER, "Etudes Critiques," pp. 97, 101, 115, 151, 412.

[144] M. MARET, "Essai sur Pantheisme," p. 107. "Le Christianisme saura vaincre dans son age mur l'ennemi qu'il a terrasse en naissant."



CHAPTER IV.

THEORIES OF MATERIALISM.

The doctrine of Materialism stands equally related to the "mechanical" form of Atheism, and to the "hylozoic" form of Pantheism. It is subsumed in both, and is the fundamental postulate on which they respectively depend.

It has no natural affinity with the more "ideal" or "spiritual" form of Pantheism. We must not conclude, however, that it has no historical connection with it. For it is instructive to mark, in tracing the history of philosophic speculation, that its course resembles not so much the uniform current of a stream, as the alternate flowing and ebbing of the tide; or, if we may change the figure, that its movement may be likened to the oscillation of a pendulum, which no sooner reaches its highest elevation on the one side, than it acquires a tendency to rush to the opposite extreme on the other. There can be little doubt that the recent revival of speculative "Idealism" was the result, at least in part, of a strong reaction against the "sensational" philosophy, which had degenerated in the school of Priestley at home, and in that of Condillac abroad, into a system of gross and revolting Materialism. For the same reason, we may now, I think, anticipate a speedy reaction the other way,—a reaction against the extravagances of "idealistic" and "transcendental" speculation, and a tendency towards a more practical and matter-of-fact philosophy. This tendency, if guided by the true spirit of the Baconian method, may give a powerful impulse to Inductive Science in all its departments; but, if biased by partial and one-sided views, may issue either in the temporary ascendancy of the Positive School, or the partial revival of some other form of Materialism.

Some such tendency might have been expected to arise as soon as Idealism should have reached its culminating point. For, on a comprehensive view of the whole history of speculative thought, we find that there are just four great systems of Metaphysics, which are perpetually recurring, as it were, in cycles. The first is the system of Dualism,—not the Dualism of Christian Theology, which speaks of God and nature, the Creator and the creature,—but the Dualism of ancient Paganism, which held Matter and Spirit to be equally uncreated and eternal: the second is Materialism, which resolves all into Matter and its laws: the third is Idealism, which resolves all into Mind and its modifications: and the fourth is Pantheism, which identifies Existence with Thought, and resolves all into the Absolute.[145] In the present age, Idealism is in the ascendant, and has risen to the height of Pantheism; but, by a natural reaction, many are beginning to desiderate a more substantial and practical philosophy, while the rapid progress of physical science is directing their thoughts more and more to the wonders of the material world. In these circumstances, there may be a tendency to relapse into the Materialism of the last century, which attempted to explain the whole theory of the universe by the laws of matter and motion; or at least to embrace some modification of the Positive Philosophy, which excludes all causes, whether efficient or final, from the field of human knowledge, and confines our inquiries to the mere phenomena and laws of material nature.

There are not wanting various significant indications of the existence of this tendency at the present day. It is sufficiently indicated, in some quarters, by the mere omission of all reference to Mind or Spirit as distinct from Matter; and, in others, by elaborate attempts to explain all the phenomena of life and thought by means of physical agencies and organic laws. The writings of Comte, Crousse, Cabanis, and Broussais,[146] afford ample evidence of its growing prevalence in France; and although it has been said by a recent historian of Philosophy that in England there has been no formal avowal, or at least no recognized school, of Materialism, since the publication of Dr. Thomas Brown's reply to Darwin's Zooenomia, yet there is too much reason to believe that it was all along cherished by not a few private thinkers, who had imbibed the spirit of Hobbes and Priestley; and now it is beginning to speak out, in terms too unambiguous to be misunderstood, in such works as "The Purpose of Existence" and the "Letters" of Atkinson and Martineau. But apart from the opinions of individual inquirers, it must be remembered that there is a tendency in certain studies, when exclusively pursued, to generate a frame of mind which will tempt men either to adopt the theory of Materialism, or at least to attach undue importance to physical agencies and organic laws. This tendency may be observed in the study of Physiology, especially when it is combined with that of Phrenology and Animal Magnetism; not that there is any necessary or strictly logical connection between these studies and Materialism, for some of their ablest expounders, including Cabanis, Gall, and Spurzheim, have explicitly disavowed that theory; but simply that, in prosecuting such inquiries, the mind is insensibly led to bestow an undue, if not exclusive, attention on the phenomena and laws of our material organization, so as to become comparatively unmindful of what is mental, moral, and spiritual in the constitution of man. For these reasons, and considering, especially, the close connection of Materialism both with the mechanical Atheism of the past, and the hylozoic Pantheism of the present age, we deem it necessary to subject its claims to a rigorous scrutiny, in connection with the subject of our present inquiry.

What, then, is the doctrine of Materialism? What are the forms in which it has appeared, and what the ground on which it rests? How does it stand related to the question concerning the nature and existence of God, or the constitution and destiny of Man? A brief answer to these questions will be sufficient to show that this theory cannot be safely disregarded in any attempt to construct a comprehensive and conclusive argument on the first principles of Natural Theology.

SECTION I.

DISTINCT FORMS OF MATERIALISM.

The doctrine of Materialism has assumed several distinct phases or forms in the hands of its different advocates; and these must be carefully discriminated from each other, if we would either estimate aright their respective merits, or do justice to the parties by whom they have been severally maintained.

The grossest and most revolting form of Materialism is that which identifies mind with matter, and thought with motion. It denies that there is any real or radical difference between physical and moral phenomena, and affirms that life and thought are so entirely dependent on material organization, that the dissolution of the body must necessarily be the destruction of conscious existence, and that death can only be an eternal sleep. This is the doctrine of Materialism which was taught in a former age, by the author of the "Systeme de la Nature," and which has recently been revived by M. Comte in France, and by Atkinson and Martineau in England. A few extracts will sufficiently illustrate its character and tendency. "Men have evidently abused the distinction," says Baron D'Holbach, "which is so often made between man physical and man moral: man moral is nothing else than that physical being considered in a certain point of view, that is, with reference to some modes of action which belong to his peculiar organization."—"The universe—that vast assemblage of everything that exists—exhibits nowhere anything else than matter and motion."—"If we are asked, what is man? we reply, that he is a material being, organized or framed so as to feel, to think, and to be affected in certain ways peculiar to himself, according to his organization."[147] More recently, M. Comte has affirmed that "the subject of all our researches is one," and that "all natural phenomena are the necessary results either of the laws of extension or of the laws of motion;" while M. Crousse is quite clear that "intelligence is a property or effect of matter," and that "body and spirit together constitute matter." In our own country, Atkinson and Martineau have not shrunk from the avowal of the same doctrine, or the adoption of the most revolting consequences that can be deduced from it. "Instinct, passion, thought, are effects of organized substances."—"Mind is the consequence or product of the material man; it is not a thing having a seat or home in the brain, but it is the manifestation or expression of the brain in action, as heat and light are of fire, and fragrance of the flower."[148]

The doctrine of Materialism, as formerly taught by Dr. Priestley and his followers, is in some respects similar to that which we have just noticed, but in other respects differs from it, if not in its essential nature, at least in its collateral adjuncts and its practical applications. It resembles the theory of D'Holbach and Comte, in so far as it affirms the doctrine of unisubstancisme, and rejects the idea of a dualism such as is implied in the common doctrine of Matter and Spirit. But it differs from that theory, inasmuch as it is combined, whether consistently or otherwise, with the recognition of a personal God, a resurrection from the dead, and a future state of reward and punishment. Dr. Priestley seems to have fluctuated for a time between two opposite extremes,—that of spiritualizing Matter, and that of materializing Mind; for, in a very remarkable passage, we find him saying, "This scheme of the immateriality of Matter, as it may be called, or rather, the mutual penetration of Matter, first occurred to my friend Mr. Mitchell on reading 'Baxter on the Immateriality of the Soul.'"[149] But at length he settled down in the fixed belief of Materialism, as he had always held the principle of unisubstancisme. He held throughout that "Man does not consist of two principles so essentially different from each other as Matter and Spirit, but the whole man is of one uniform composition; and that either the material or the immaterial part of the universal system is superfluous."[150] He attempts, therefore, to show, that sensation, perception, and thought,—the common properties of mind,—are not incompatible with extension, attraction, and repulsion, which he conceives to be the only essential properties of matter; that both classes of properties may possibly belong to the same subject; and that hence no second substance is necessary to account for and explain any of the phenomena of human nature. In this respect, his theory is precisely the same with that which has been already noticed; but the peculiarity by which it is distinguished from the Atheistic and Antichristian speculations of D'Holbach and Comte is twofold. In the first place, while he ascribes to mere matter the power of sensation, thought, and volition, he admits that these powers, and all others belonging to matter, were communicated to it at the first, and are still continued, by the Divine will, thus recognizing the doctrine both of Creation and Providence; and in the second place, while he denies the natural immortality of the soul, and even the possibility of its conscious existence in a state of separation from the body, he does not deny the immortality of man, but receives it, as well as the doctrine of future rewards and punishments, on the authority of that Divine Revelation which speaks of "the resurrection of the dead," and of "a judgment to come." In these respects, his theory is widely different from that of the "Systeme de la Nature," while the two are substantially the same in so far as they relate simply to the constitution of human nature. He is not an Atheist, but a Theist, and a Theist, too, who, believing in Revelation, admits the immortality of man, and a future state of retribution. But it must be evident that as in these respects he founds entirely on the authority of Scripture, so he may be confronted with the same authority when he denies the spirituality of the soul; and in that case the question would resolve itself into one of Biblical exegesis, and would fall to be decided, not by metaphysical reasoning, but by Scriptural proofs.

Another variety of the theory is presented by Dr. Good in his "Life of Lucretius." It agrees with the doctrine of Priestley in representing the soul as material; but differs from it in holding the possible existence of the soul in a separate state, during the interval between the dissolution and resurrection of the body. It speaks of the body as being composed of gross material particles; and of the soul as consisting of more subtle, refined, and ethereal matter. This modification of the theory may be illustrated by the following extract: "Perception, consciousness, cognition, we continue to be told, are qualities which cannot appertain to matter; there must hence be a thinking and an immaterial principle; and man must still be a compound being. Yet, why thus degrade matter, the plastic and prolific creature of the Deity, beyond what we are authorized to do? Why may it not perceive, why not think, why not become conscious? What eternal and necessary impediment prevents? or what self-contradiction and absurdity is hereby implied? Let us examine Nature as she presents herself to us in her most simple and inorganized forms; let us trace her through her gradual and ascending stages of power and perfection. In its simplest form, matter evinces the desire of reciprocal union, or, as it is commonly called, the attraction of gravitation. Increase its mass, arrange it in other modifications, and it immediately evinces other powers or attractions; and these will be perpetually, and almost infinitely, varied, in proportion as we vary its combinations. If arranged, therefore, in one mode, it discloses the power of magnetism; in another, that of electricity or galvanism; in a third, that of chemical affinities; in a fourth, that of mineral assimilations. Pursue its modifications into classes of a more complex, or rather, perhaps, of a more gaseous or attenuate nature, and it will evince the power of vegetable or fibrous irritability: ascend through the classes of vegetables, and you will at length reach the strong stimulative perfection, the palpable vitality of the mimosa pudica, or the hedysarum gyrans, the former of which shrinks from the touch with the most bashful coyness, while the latter perpetually dances beneath the jocund rays of the sun. And when we have thus attained the summit of vegetable powers and vegetable life, it will require, I think, no great stretch of the imagination to conceive that the fibrous irritability of animals, as well as vegetables, is the mere result of a peculiar arrangement of simple and unirritable material atoms."—"Hence, then, animal sensation, and hence, necessarily and consequently, ideas, and a material soul or spirit, rude and confined, indeed, in its first and simplest mode of existence, but, like every other production of Nature, beautifully and progressively advancing from power to power, from faculty to faculty, from excellence to excellence, till at length it terminate in the perfection of the human mind."[151]

According to this theory, the mind is supposed to have a real existence, as a substance distinct from the grosser forms of matter, and capable even of surviving its separation from them. It is supposed to be "a combination of the most volatile auras or gases, diffused over the whole body, though traced in a more concentrate form in some organs than in others;" and it is described as "the very texture of that separate state of existence which the infallible page of Revelation clearly indicates will be ours."

A form of the theory very nearly resembling this has been recently reproduced. It consists in representing the Mind or Spirit of man, not as a mere fleeting phenomenon of the brain, or an evanescent effect of its organization, but as a distinct substantive product, generated, indeed, from matter, and partaking, therefore, of its nature, but so exquisitely subtle and ethereal that it has no resemblance to the grosser materials of the body, and admits only of being compared with the Dynamides—the imponderable elements and forces of Nature. This "spirit" is generated in man by his peculiar organization, and especially by the action of the brain; it is capable of surviving the dissolution of the body, of retaining its individual consciousness after death, of passing into new spheres of being, and of rising from lower to higher states, according to a law of eternal progression. Such is the theory of Davis, the "Poughkeepsie Seer;" and such also, with some variations, is that of the author of "The Purpose of Existence."

"Matter and Spirit," says Davis, "have heretofore been supposed to constitute two distinct and independent substances, the latter not having any material origin." ... "Instead of making material and spiritual existence totally disconnected, the object and intention of the foregoing has been to prove, by acknowledged laws and principles of matter, the production of intelligence, the perfection of which is spirit;" to show that "the Organizer uses Nature and all things therein as an effect, to produce spirit as an end and designed ultimate." The author of "The Purpose of Existence" adopts a similar view. He tells us, indeed, that "the first simple forms or states of existence are admitted to be two, spirit and matter,—the first the moving power, the second the moved substance;" that of the positive essence of either we can arrive at no knowledge; and that "whether spirit be a refined, etherealized portion of matter, or a distinct dynamic principle, we cannot ascertain." And yet, one of the leading objects of his work is to account for "the origin and development of the human mind;" and this he does by ascribing it to "a self-dynamic spirit which is resident in matter," and which he denominates "the spirit of vitality." The spirit exists in vegetables, and is extracted by means of the organs of the animals which feed upon them, and then, "by a delicate work of distillation, it is converted into spirit!"—"Nature proclaims one of her great working principles to be, that spirit is evolved out of matter, and outlives the body in which it is educated."—"Matter is full of spirit. This spirit is brought out of matter by vegetation. By means of vegetation, it is conveyed into animal frames, in which its purest essence centres in the brain.... This is no idle theory," he adds, "no vain hypothesis, for making matter think. It is a clear proposition, showing how matter is employed by the Supreme Intelligence for evolving, training, and educating spirit."—"We conclude that Progression is the great law of the universe, the purpose for which its present arrangement was ordained; and that the object of this progression is the evolvement of mind out of matter."

This is a new and very singular phase of Materialism. It is widely different from the doctrine which was taught by the infidel writers of the last century. They had recourse to the theory of Materialism chiefly with the view of excluding a world of spirits, and of undermining the doctrine of a future state: here it is applied to prove the constant development and indestructible existence of minds generated from matter, but destined to survive the dissolution of the body; nay, every particle of matter in the universe is supposed to be advancing, in one magnificent progression, towards the spiritual state. The danger now is, not that Religion may be undermined by Materialism, but that it may be supplanted by a fond and foolish superstition, in which the facts of Mesmerism and the fictions of Clairvoyance are blended into one ghostly system, fitted to exert a powerful but pernicious influence on over-credulous minds.[152]

On a review of the various forms which the theory of Materialism has assumed, it must be evident that we should be doing great injustice to their respective advocates, did we place them all on the same level in relation to Theology, or pronounce upon them one indiscriminate censure. In the hands of D'Holbach and Comte, it was associated with the avowal of Atheism, and the denial of a future state: in the hands of Priestley, it was associated with the recognition of a God, and the Christian doctrine of a resurrection: in the hands of Dr. Good, it was combined with the principles of Theism, and even with the revealed doctrine of the separate existence of the soul during the interval between death and the resurrection: and in the hands of Davis and the author of the "Purpose of Existence," it is exhibited in connection with a theory of Progression, widely different, indeed, from the doctrine of Scripture, but equally different from the infidel speculations of the last century. Still, with all these shades of difference, there is that common to all the forms in which it can be presented which shows that they are radically one and the same: they all deny the existence of any generic difference between Matter and Mind.

Confining our attention to this common element, and omitting the consideration of minor diversities, we may now inquire into the grounds on which the theory rests, and the most plausible reasons which have been urged in support of it.

To some minds it has been recommended by its apparent simplicity. It speaks only of one substance as existing in Nature under various modifications. It represents the universe, so far as created being is concerned, as entirely composed of matter, more or less refined; and thus excludes the complication which must necessarily arise from the supposition of two substances, generically different, yet intimately and indissolubly related. The principle, therefore, which prompts us to seek unity in diversity, and to reduce, by some comprehensive generalization, a multitude of phenomena under one general law, has led some to adopt the theory of unisubstancisme in preference to the opposite doctrine of dualism. Not content with the generalization, alike safe and legitimate, which ranks both mind and matter under the generic head of substance, they have sought to reduce them to the same category, and to give to matter a monopoly of the universe, at least of created being. In support of their views, they remind us of the fundamental principle of philosophy as laid down by Sir Isaac Newton, that "we are to admit no more causes of things than are sufficient to explain appearances."[153] The principle is a sound one; and the only question is, whether matter alone is sufficient to account for mental phenomena? On this question the two parties are at irreconcilable variance; and the controversy cannot be determined, brevi manu, by the mere assumption of the simplicity and uniform composition of everything in Nature; it can be settled only by an appeal to the facts as they are known to exist. It is the aim of science, undoubtedly, to reduce all compound substances to the smallest possible number of constituent elements, and all complex phenomena to the smallest possible number of general laws. But we feel that, desirable as this simplification may be, we are not warranted in identifying light with heat, or even electricity with magnetism, however closely connected with each other, simply because there are certain observed differences between them, which could not be explained, in the present state of our knowledge, consistently with any such theory of their absolute identity: and so, there are such manifest differences between Mental and Material phenomena, that we cannot yield to the temptation of ascribing them to one cause or origin, until it has been satisfactorily proved that the same cause is sufficient to account for appearances so diverse. It should be considered, too, in connection with this pretence of greater simplicity, that even if we could succeed in getting rid of the dualism of Mind and Matter in the constitution of man, we never can get rid of it with reference to the universe at large, otherwise than by denying the spirituality of God himself: for the grand, the indestructible, the eternal dualism would still remain,—the distinction between God and His works,—between the Creator and the universe which He has called into being,—between the finite, contingent, and transitory, and the infinite, necessary, and eternal. And this is a distinction that cannot be obliterated, although it may be obscured, by the speculations of Pantheism.

Another reason which has induced some to adopt, or at least to regard with favor, the theory of Materialism, is—the difficulty of conceiving of the union of two substances so incongruous as Mind and Matter are supposed to be,—and still more the difficulty of explaining how they could have any mutual action on each other. Dr. Priestley largely insists on this, as well as on the former reason, as one of the main inducements which led him to abandon the commonly-received doctrine. "Many doubts occurred to me," he says, "on the subject of the intimate union of two substances so entirely heterogeneous as the soul and body were represented to be." And he was led to conclude, that "man does not consist of two principles so essentially different from one another as matter and spirit, which are always described as having no one common property by means of which they can affect or act upon each other." In the "Systeme de la Nature," the same argument is often urged. It is boldly and repeatedly affirmed that "an immaterial cause cannot produce motion;" and this is applied equally to the soul and to God. "How can we form an idea of a substance destitute of extension, and yet acting on our senses, that is, on material organs which are extended? How can a being without extension be capable of motion, and of putting matter into motion?"—"It is as impossible that spirit or thought should produce matter, as that matter should produce spirit or thought."[154]

Now, it is not denied by any,—it is admitted on all hands,—that the union between the soul and the body is a great mystery, and that we are not able, in the present state of our knowledge, to explain either the action of matter on mind, or the action of mind on matter. The mode of the union between them, and the nature of the influence which they mutually exercise, are to us inscrutable: but the facts of our most familiar experience are not the less certain, because they depend on causes to us unknown, or stand connected with mysteries which we cannot solve. Besides, the theory of unisubstancisme itself, were it adopted, would still leave many facts unexplained, and the inmost nature of man would continue to be as inscrutable as before. There is nothing inconceivable, impossible, or self-contradictory in the supposition of a non-material or spiritual substance; nor is there any reason a priori to conclude that such a substance could not be united to a material frame, although the nature of their union, and the mode of their reciprocal action, might be to us inexplicable.