But, alas! the great bar to a speedy settlement of this question and the adoption of a rational philosophy is not in the head but in the heart—is not in the reason but in pride of opinion, self-conceit, dogmatism. The rarest of all gifts is a truly tolerant, rational spirit. In all our gettings let us strive to get this, for it alone is true wisdom. But we must not imagine that all the dogmatism is on one side, and that the theological. Many seem to think that theology has a “pre-emptive right” to dogmatism. If so, then modern materialistic science has “jumped the claim.” Dogmatism has its roots deep-bedded in the human heart. It showed itself first in the domain of theology, because there was the seat of power. In modern times it has gone over to the side of science, because here now is the place of power and fashion. There are two dogmatisms, both equally opposed to the true rational spirit, viz., the old theological and the new scientific. The old clings fondly to old things, only because they are old; the new grasps eagerly after new things, only because they are new. True wisdom and true philosophy, on the contrary, tries all things both old and new, and holds fast only to that which is good and true. The new dogmatism taunts the old for credulity and superstition; the old reproaches the new for levity and skepticism. But true wisdom perceives that they are both equally credulous and equally skeptical. The old is credulous of old ideas and skeptical of new; the new is skeptical of old ideas and credulous of new. Both deserve the unsparing rebuke of all right-minded men. The appropriate rebuke for the old dogmatism has been already put in the mouth of Job in the form of a bitter sneer: “No doubt ye are the people, and wisdom shall die with you.” The appropriate rebuke for the new dogmatism, though not put into the mouth of any ancient prophet, ought to be uttered—I will undertake to utter it here. I would say to these modern materialists, “No doubt ye are the men, and wisdom and true philosophy were born with you.”
Let it be observed that we are not here touching the general question of the personal agency of God in operating Nature. This we shall take up hereafter. All that we wish to insist on now is that the process and the law of evolution does not differ in its relation to materialism from all other processes and laws of Nature. If the sustentation of the universe by the law of gravitation does not disturb our belief in God as the sustainer of the universe, there is no reason why the origin of the universe by the law of evolution should disturb our faith in God as the creator of the universe. If the law of gravitation be regarded as the Divine mode of sustentation, there is no reason why we should not regard the law of evolution as the Divine process of creation. It is evident that if evolution be materialism, then is gravitation also materialism; then is every law of Nature and all science materialism. If there be any difference at all, it consists only in this: that, as already said, here is the last line of defense of the supporters of supernaturalism in the realm of Nature. But being the last line of defense—the last ditch—it is evident that a yielding here implies not a mere shifting of line, but a change of base; not a readjustment of details only, but a reconstruction of Christian theology. This, I believe, is indeed necessary. There can be little doubt in the mind of the thoughtful observer that we are even now on the eve of the greatest change in traditional views that has taken place since the birth of Christianity. But let no one be greatly disturbed thereby. For as then, so now, change comes not to destroy but to fulfill all our dearest hopes and aspirations; as then, so now, the germ of living truth has, in the course of ages, become so encrusted with meaningless traditions which stifle its growth, that it is necessary to break the shell to set it free; as then, so now, it has become necessary to purge religious belief of dross in the form of trivialities and superstitions. This has ever been and ever will be the function of science. The essentials of religious faith it does not, it can not, touch, but it purifies and ennobles our conceptions of Deity, and thus elevates the whole plane of religious thought.
It will not, of course, be expected of me to give, even in briefest outline, a system of reconstructed Christian thought. Such an attempt would be wholly unbecoming. Time, very much time, and the co-operation of many minds, bringing contributions from many departments of thought, is necessary for this. In a word, it can only itself come by a gradual process of evolution. But from the point of view of science some very fundamental changes in traditional views are already plain. Of these the most fundamental and important are our ideas concerning God, Nature, and man in their relations to one another. These will form the subject of the next three chapters.
We have already said that evolution does not differ essentially from other laws of Nature in its bearing on religious belief. It only reiterates and enforces with additional emphasis what Science, in all its departments, has been saying all along. The difficulties in the way of certain traditional views have pressed with ever increasing force upon the thoughtful mind ever since the birth of modern science. All along, an issue has been gathering, but put off from time to time by compromise, until now, at last, the issue is forced upon us and compromise is exhausted. The issue (let us look it squarely in the face) is: Either God is far more closely related with Nature, and operates it in a more direct way than we have recently been accustomed to think, or else (mark the alternative) Nature operates itself and needs no God at all. There is no middle ground tenable.
Let us trace rapidly the growth of this issue. The old idea and the most natural to the religious mind was the direct agency of God in every event and phenomenon of Nature. This view is nobly expressed in the noblest literature in the world—in the Hebrew and Christian Scriptures: “He looketh on the earth and it trembleth. He toucheth the hills and they smoke.” “He maketh his sun to rise on the evil and on the good, and sendeth his rain on the just and on the unjust.” But now comes Science and explains all these phenomena by natural laws and resident forces, and we all accept her explanation. Thus, one by one the phenomena of Nature are explained by the operation of resident forces according to natural laws, until the whole course of Nature, as we now know it, has been, or will be, or conceivably may be, thus explained.
Thus has gradually grown up, without our confessing it, a kind of scientific polytheism—one great Jehovah, perhaps, but with many agents or sub-gods, each independent, efficient, and doing all the real work in his own domain. The names of these, our gods, are gravity, light, heat, electricity, magnetism, chemical affinity, etc., and we are practically saying: “These be your gods, O Israel, which brought you out of the land of Egyptian darkness and ignorance. These be the only gods ye need fear, and serve, and study the ways of.”
What, then, is practically the notion which most people seem to have of the relation of Deity to Nature? It is that of a great master-mechanic far away above us and beyond our reach, who once upon a time, long ago, and once for all, worked, created matter, endowed it with necessary properties and powers, constructed at once out of hand this wonderful cosmos with its numberless wheels within wheels, endowed it with forces, put springs in it, wound it up, set it a-going, and then—rested. The thing has continued to go of itself ever since. He might have not only rested but slept, and the thing would have gone of itself. He might not only have slept but died, and still the thing would have continued to go of itself. But, no, I forget. He must not sleep or die, for the work is not absolutely perfect. There are some things too hard even for Him to do in this masterful, god-like way. There are some things which even He can not do except in a ’prentice-like, man-like way. The hand must be introduced from time to time to repair, to rectify, to improve, especially to introduce new parts, such as new organic forms.
Such was the state of the compromise until twenty-five years ago. Nature is sufficient of itself for its course and continuance, but not for origins of at least some new parts. Such was the state of the compromise until Darwin and the theory of evolution. But, now, even this poor privilege of occasional interference is taken away. Now, origins, as well as courses, are reduced to resident forces and natural law. Now, Nature is sufficient of itself, not only for sustentation, but also for creation. Thus, Science has seemed to push Him farther and farther away from us, until now, at last, if this view be true, evolution finishes the matter by pushing Him entirely out of the universe and dispensing with Him altogether. This, of course, is materialism. But this is no new view now brought forward for the first time by evolution. On the contrary, evolution only finishes what science has been doing all along.
See, then, how the issue is forced. Either Nature is sufficient of itself and wants no God at all, or else this whole idea, the history of which we have been tracing, is radically false. We have here given by science either a demonstration of materialism or else a reductio ad absurdum. Which is it? I do not hesitate a moment to say it is a reductio ad absurdum. And I believe that evolution has conferred an inestimable benefit on philosophy and on religion by forcing this issue and compelling us to take a more rational view.
What, then, is the alternative view? It is the utter rejection with Berkeley and with Swedenborg of the independent existence of matter and the real efficient agency of natural forces. It is the frank return to the old idea of direct divine agency, but in a new, more rational, less anthropomorphic form. It is the bringing together and complete reconciliation of the two apparently antagonistic and mutually excluding views of direct agency and natural law. Such reconciliation we have already seen is the true test of a rational philosophy. It is the belief in a God not far away beyond our reach, who once long ago enacted laws and created forces which continue of themselves to run the machine we call Nature, but a God immanent, a God resident in Nature, at all times and in all places directing every event and determining every phenomena—a God in whom in the most literal sense not only we but all things have their being, in whom all things consist, through whom all things exist, and without whom there would be and could be nothing. According to this view the phenomena of Nature are naught else than objectified modes of divine thought, the forces of Nature naught else than different forms of one omnipresent divine energy or will, the laws of Nature naught else than the regular modes of operation of that divine will, invariable because He is unchangeable. According to this view the law of gravitation is naught else than the mode of operation of the divine energy in sustaining the cosmos—the divine method of sustentation; the law of evolution naught else than the mode of operation of the same divine energy in originating and developing the cosmos—the divine method of creation; and Science is the systematic knowledge of these divine thoughts and ways—a rational system of natural theology. In a word, according to this view, there is no real efficient force but spirit, and no real independent existence but God.
But some will object that this is pure Idealism. Yes, but far different from what usually goes under that name. The ideal philosophy as usually understood regards the external world as having no real objective existence outside of ourselves—as objectified mental states of the observer—as literally such stuff as dreams are made of—as a mere phantasmagoria of trooping shadows having no real existence but in the mind of the dreamer, and each dreamer makes his own world. Not so in the idealism above presented. According to this the external world is the objectified modes, not of the mind of the observer, but of the mind of God. According to this, the external world is not a mere unsubstantial figment or dream, but for us a very substantial objective reality surrounding us and conditioning us on every side.
Again, it will be objected that this is pure Pantheism. Again, we answer “yes.” Call it so if you like, but far different from what goes under that name, far different from the pantheism which sublimates the personality of the Deity into all-pervading unconscious force, and thereby dissipates all our hopes of personal relation with him. Properly understood, we believe this view completely reconciles the two antagonistic and mutually excluding views of impersonal pantheism and anthropomorphic personalism, and is therefore more rational than either. The discussion of this most important point can only come up after the next chapter, because the argument for the personality of Deity is derived, not from without by the study of Nature, but from within in our own consciousness. We therefore put off its discussion for the present.
But, finally, some will object, “We can not live and work effectively under such a theory unless, indeed, we escape through pantheism.” It may, alas! be true that this view brings us too near Him in our sense of spiritual nakedness and shortcoming. It may, indeed, be that we can not live and work in the continual realized presence of the Infinite. It may, indeed, be that we must still wear the veil of a practical materialism on our hearts and minds. It may, indeed, be that in our practical life and scientific work we must still continue to think of natural forces as efficient agents. But, if so, let us at least remember that this attitude of mind must be regarded only as our ordinary work-clothes—necessary work-clothes it may be of our outer lower life—to be put aside when we return home to our inner higher life, religious and philosophical.
There are two widely distinct views concerning the relation of man to Nature; the one as old as the history of human thought, the other only now urged upon us by modern science. According to the one, man is the counterpart and equivalent of Nature. He alone has—in fact is—an immortal spirit, and therefore he belongs to a world of his own. According to the other, man is but a part, a very insignificant part of Nature, and connected in the closest way with all other parts, especially with the animal kingdom. He has no world of his own, nor even kingdom of his own: he belongs to the animal kingdom. In that kingdom he has no department of his own: he is a vertebrate. In the department of vertebrates he has no privileged class of his own: he is a mammal. In the class of mammals he has no titled order of his own: he is a primate, and shares his primacy with apes. It is doubtful if he may enjoy the privacy of a family of his own—the Hominidæ—for the structural differences between man and the anthropoid apes are probably not so great as between the sheep family and the deer family.
Now it is evident that these two are only views from different points, psychical and structural. From the psychical point of view it is simply impossible to exaggerate the wideness of the gap that separates man from even the highest animals. From this point of view man must be set over as an equivalent, not only to the whole animal kingdom, but to the whole of Nature besides. From the structural point of view, on the contrary, it is impossible to exaggerate the closeness of the connection. Man’s body is identified with all Nature in its chemical constituents, with the body of all animals in its functions, with all vertebrates, especially mammals, in its structure. Bone for bone, muscle for muscle, ganglion for ganglion, almost nerve-fiber for nerve-fiber, his body corresponds with that of the higher animals. Whether he was derived from lower animals or not, certain it is that his structure even in the minutest details is precisely such as it would be if he were thus derived by successive slight modifications.
Now, of these two views, the latter has been in recent times enormously productive in increasing our knowledge. Anatomy has become truly scientific only through comparative anatomy; physiology through comparative physiology; embryology through comparative embryology. Sociology is fast following in the same line, and becoming scientific through comparative sociology. Is not the same true also of psychology? Will not psychology become truly scientific only through comparative psychology, i. e., by the study of the spirit of man in relation to what corresponds to it in lower animals? But this view and this method, when pushed to what seems to many their logical conclusion, end in identification of man with mere animals, of spirit with mere physical and chemical forces, immortality with mere conservation of energy, and thus leads to blank and universal materialism. Thus, while it increases our knowledge, it destroys our hopes. Is there any escape? There is. The two extreme views given above are not irreconcilable. As already said, they are only views from different points, and therefore, although both true, are equally one-sided and partial, and a true and rational philosophy, in this as in all other cases of vexed questions, is found only in a higher view, which combines and reconciles these mutually excluding extremes. Can we find such a view? I think we can.
Let us first, however, trace some of the stages of this scientific materialism. There are two main branches of the argument for materialism: one derived from brain-physiology, the other from evolution. As we wish to be perfectly fair, we will present and even press the argument in both these directions, although the latter alone bears directly on the subject in hand.
In recent times, physiology has made great and, to many, startling advances in the direction of connecting mental phenomena with brain-changes. Physiologists have established the correlation of vital with chemical and physical forces,40 and probably in some sense, at least, of mental with vital forces. They have proved, in every act of perception, first a physical change in a nerve-terminal, then a propagated thrill along a nerve-fiber, and then a resulting change, physical or chemical, in the brain; and in every act of volition, a change first in a brain-cell, then, a return thrill along a nerve-fiber, and a resulting contraction of a muscle. Even the velocity of the transmission to and fro has been measured, and the time necessary to produce brain-changes estimated. They have also established the existence of physical and chemical changes in the brain corresponding to every change of mental state, and with great probability an exact quantitative relation between these changes of brain and the corresponding changes of mind. In the near future they may do more: they may localize all the different faculties and powers of the mind, each in its several place in the brain, and thus lay the foundations of a truly scientific phrenology. In the far-distant future we may possibly do much more. We may connect each kind of mental state with a different and distinctive kind of brain-change. We may find, for example, a right-handed rotation of atoms associated with love, and a left-handed rotation associated with hate, or a gentle sideways oscillation associated with consciousness, and a vertical pounding associated with will. Now, suppose all this, and even much more, be done in the way of associating, both in degree and in kind, mental changes with brain-changes. What then? “Why,” say the materialists, “we thereby identify mind with matter, mental forces with material forces. Thought, emotion, consciousness and will become products of the brain, in the same sense as bile is a product of the liver, or urea a product of the kidneys.”
Such is, in brief, the argument. Now, the answer: We may do all we have supposed and much more. We may push our knowledge in this direction as far as the boldest imagination can reach, and even then we are no nearer the solution of this mystery of the relation of brain-changes and mental changes than we are now. Even then it would be impossible for us to conceive how brain-changes produce mental changes or vice versa. Physical changes in sense-organs, transmitted along nerve-fibers, determine changes in brain-substance. So much is intelligible. But now there appear—how it is impossible to imagine—consciousness, thought, emotion, etc.—phenomena of an entirely different order, belonging to an entirely different world. So different, that it is impossible to imagine the nature of the nexus between, or to construe the one in terms of the other. Brain-cells are agitated and thought appears: Aladdin’s lamp is rubbed, and the genie appears. There is just as much intelligible causal relation between the two sets of phenomena in the one case as in the other.
Now, this mystery is not of the nature of those which disappear under the light of knowledge. On the contrary, science only brings it out in sharper relief, and emphasizes its absolute unsolvableness. Suppose an absolutely perfect knowledge, perfect in degree, but human in kind. Suppose an ideally perfect science—a science which has so completely subdued its domain, and reduced it to such perfect simplicity, that the whole cosmos may be expressed in a single mathematical formula—a formula which, worked out with plus signs, would give every phenomenon and event which shall ever occur in the future, and with minus signs every phenomenon and event which has ever occurred in the past. Surely, this is an ideally perfect science. Yet, even to such a science, the relation of brain-changes to mental states would be as great a mystery as now. It would even come out in stronger relief, because so many other apparent mysteries would disappear. Like the essential nature of matter or the ultimate cause of force, this relation lies evidently beyond the domain of science. It requires some other kind of knowledge than human to understand it.
But materialists insist so much on the identity of brain-physiology with psychology, that even at the risk of tediousness we will multiply illustrations in order, if possible, to make this point still clearer. Suppose, then, we exposed the brain of a living man in a state of intense activity. Suppose, further, that our senses were absolutely perfect, so that we could see every change, of whatever sort, taking place in the brain-substance. What would we see? Obviously nothing but molecular changes, physical and chemical; for to the outside observer there is absolutely nothing else there to see. But the subject of this experiment sees nothing of all this. His experiences are of a different order, viz., consciousness, thought, emotions, etc. Viewed from the outside, there is—there can be—nothing but motions; viewed from the inside, nothing but thought, etc.—from the one side, only physical phenomena; from the other side, only psychical phenomena. Is it not plain that, from the very nature of the case, it must ever be so? Certain vibrations of brain molecules, certain oxidations with the formation of carbonic acid, water, and urea on the one side, and there appear on the other sensations, consciousness, thoughts, desires, volitions. There are, as it were, two sheets of blotting-paper pasted together. The one is the brain, the other the mind. Certain ink-scratches or blotches, utterly meaningless on the one, soak through and appear on the other as intelligible writing, but how we know not, and can never hope to guess. But when the paste dissolves, shall the writing remain? We shall see.
But some will object. There is nothing specially strange and unique in all this, for the same mystery underlies the essential nature of all kinds of force and matter, and therefore all phenomena. True enough, but with this difference. Physical and chemical forces and phenomena are indeed incomprehensible in their essential nature; but once accept their existence, and all their different forms are mutually convertible, construable in terms of each other and all in terms of motion. But it is impossible by any stretch of the imagination to thus construe mental forces and mental phenomena. It may, indeed, be impossible to conceive how came the plane of material existence, but, standing on that plane, all phenomena fall into intelligible order. But there is another plane above this one, having no intelligible relation with it. We must climb up and stand on this before its phenomena fall into intelligible order. In a word, material forces and phenomena are, indeed, a mystery, but only of the first order. But mental and moral forces and phenomena are a mystery even from the standpoint of the other, and are therefore a mystery of the second order—a mystery within a mystery.
We repeat, then, with additional emphasis after this examination, that we can not imagine between physical and psychical phenomena a relation of cause and effect in the same sense in which we use these terms in physical science, although in some sense there is doubtless such a relation. If man were the only animal we had to deal with, there would be no standing ground left for materialism. But there is still another difficulty which sticks deeper. It is that suggested by the law of evolution and enforced by the comparative method.
Relation of Man to Animals.—Man, we say, is endowed with, is, in fact, an immortal spirit. What is spirit? We know things only by their phenomena; what are the phenomena of spirit? Consciousness, will, intelligence, memory, love, hate, fear, desire—surely these are some of them. But has not a dog or a monkey all these? Pressed with this difficulty, some have indeed felt compelled to accord immortal spirit to higher animals. But we can not stop here. If to these, then also to all animals; for we have here only a sliding scale without break. Can we stop now and make it coextensive with sentiency? No; for the lowest animals and lowest plants merge into each other so completely that no one can draw the line between them with certainty. We must extend it to plants also. Shall we stop here and make immortal spirit coextensive with life? We can not; for life-force is certainly correlated with, transmutable into, and derivable from, physical and chemical forces. We must extend it into dead nature also. Therefore, everything is immortal or none. Our boasted immortality by continued extension becomes thinner and thinner until it evaporates into thin air. It becomes naught else than conservation of energy, and not, as we had hoped, conservation of self-conscious personality. This may be interesting as a scientific fact; but of what value to us personally is a continued existence of our spiritual forces as heat, light, electricity, or any other form of unconscious force? Thus, then, if once we pass the gap between man and the higher animals, there is no possibility of a stopping-place anywhere.
Such is the difficulty presented by comparison in the taxonomic series. Take now the embryonic series. Each one of us, individually, was formed gradually by a process of evolution, from a microscopic spherule of protoplasm undistinguishable in structure from the lowest forms of protozoal life. Now, in this gradual process of evolution, where did immortal spirit come in? Was it in the germ-cell? Then why deny it to the protozoan? Was it at the quickening, or at the birth, or at the moment of first self-consciousness, or at some later period of capacity of abstract thought? Again, when it did come in, was it something superadded or did it grow out of something already existing in the embryo or the infant?
Or take the evolution series from protozoan to man. This we have already seen is similar in outline to the other two. Now, in the gradual evolution of the animal kingdom throughout all geological time, terminating in man, when did immortal spirit come in? Did it enter with life, or with sentient life, or somewhere in the ascending scale of animals, or with the advent of man? If with man, was it some new thing added at once out of hand, or did it grow out of something already existing in animals?
This last, we are persuaded, is the only tenable view—the only view that can effect that reconciliation between the two extreme, mutually excluding views now usually held, which, as already seen, is the true test of a rational philosophy. I believe that the spirit of man was developed out of the anima or conscious principle of animals, and that this, again, was developed out of the lower forms of life-force, and this in its turn out of the chemical and physical forces of Nature; and that at a certain stage in this gradual development, viz., with man, it acquired the property of immortality precisely as it now, in the individual history of each man at a certain stage, acquires the capacity of abstract thought. This is, in brief, the view which I wish to enforce. The reader must understand, however, that this is my own view only, a view for which I have earnestly contended for twenty years. It appeals, therefore, not to authority, but only to reason. I wish now to present it as briefly as possible.
First, then, I would draw attention to the fact that there is nothing wholly exceptional in such transformation with the sudden appearance of new powers and properties; but, on the contrary, it is in accordance with many analogies in the lower forces, and therefore a priori not only credible but probable. For example, force and matter may be said to exist now on several distinct planes raised one above another. There is a sort of taxonomic scale of force and matter. These are, 1, the plane of elements; 2, the plane of chemical compounds; 3, the plane of vegetal life; 4, the plane of animal life; and 5, the plane of rational and, as we hope, immortal life. Each plane has its own appropriate force and distinctive phenomena. On the first operates physical forces, producing physical phenomena only—for the operation of chemical affinity immediately raises matter to the next plane. On the second plane operates, in addition to physical, also chemical forces, producing all those changes by action and reaction, the study of which constitutes the science of chemistry. On the third plane, in addition to the two preceding forces, with their characteristic phenomena, operates also life-force, producing the distinctive phenomena characteristic of living things. On the fourth plane, in addition to all lower forces and their phenomena, operates also a higher form of life-force characteristic of animals, producing the phenomena characteristic of sentient life, such as sensation, consciousness, and will. On the fifth plane, in addition to all the preceding forces and phenomena, we have also the forces and phenomena characteristic of rational and moral life.
Now, although there are doubtless great differences of level on each of these planes, yet there is a very distinct break between each. Although there are various degrees of the force characteristic of each, yet the difference between the characteristic forces is one of kind as well as of degree. Although energy by transmutation may take all these different forms, and thus does now circulate up and down through all these planes, yet the passage from one plane upward to another is not a gradual passage by sliding scale, but at one bound. When the necessary conditions are present, a new and higher form of force at once appears, like a birth into a higher sphere. For example, when hydrogen and oxygen are brought together under proper conditions, water is born—a new thing with new and wholly unexpected properties and powers, entirely different from those of its components. When CO2, H2O, and NH3 are brought together under suitable conditions, viz., in the green leaves of plants, in the presence of sunlight, living protoplasm is then and there born, a something having entirely new and unexpected powers and properties. It is no gradual process but sudden, like birth into a higher sphere.
Now, there is not the least doubt that the same is true of the order and manner of the first appearance of the natural forces in the phylogenic series. In the history of the evolution of the cosmos, the forces of Nature have appeared successively and suddenly when conditions became favorable. There was a time in the history of the earth when only physical forces existed, chemical affinity being held in abeyance by the intensity of the heat.41 By gradual cooling, chemical affinity at a certain stage came into being—was born, a new form of force, with new and peculiar phenomena, though doubtless derived from the preceding. Ages upon ages passed away until the time was ripe and conditions were favorable, and life appeared—a new and higher form of force, producing a still more peculiar group of phenomena, but still, as I believe, derived from the preceding. Ages upon ages again passed away, during which this life-force took on higher and higher forms—in the highest foreshadowing and simulating reason itself—until finally, when the time was fully ripe and conditions were exceptionally favorable, spirit, self-conscious, self-determining, rational, and moral, appeared—a new and still higher form of force, but still, as I am persuaded, derived from the preceding.
Now, that these forces are really of derivative origin is proved by the fact that we see every step of this process taking place daily under our very eyes. I pass over the conversion of physical into chemical force because this is admitted on all hands. I begin, therefore, with vital force. Sunlight falling on green leaves disappears as light and reappears as life—is consumed in doing the work of decomposing CO2, H2O, and NH3, and the C, H, O, and N thus set free from previous combination unite to form living protoplasm.42 Again, in the embryonic history of every animal we see the next change take place—i. e., the emergence of the psychic out of the vital. In the germ-cell, in the egg, and even in the early stages of the embryo, there is no distinctive animal life—i. e., no consciousness, nor volition, nor response of any kind to stimulus. At a certain stage distinctive animal or psychic life appears. We call it quickening. Materials for psychology are now present for the first time. In man alone, and that only some time after physical birth, we see the last change. The new-born child has animal life only. The emergence of self-consciousness—a change so wonderful that it may well be called the birth of spirit—takes place only at the age of two to three years. Now for the first time we have phenomena distinctive of humanity.
But some will ask, “How is this consistent with immortality?” In answer, let me again remind the reader that with every new form of force, with every new birth of the universal energy into a higher plane, there appear new, unexpected, and, previous to experience, wholly unimaginable properties and powers. This last birth is of course no exception. Why may not immortality be one of these new properties? But this point is so important that we must treat it more fully.
Remember, then, the view of the relation of God to Nature, already explained. Remember that the forces of Nature are naught else than different forms of the one omnipresent Divine energy. Remember that, as just shown, this Divine omnipresent energy has taken on successively higher and higher forms in the course of cosmic time. Now this upward movement has been wholly by increasing individuation, not only of matter, but also of force. This universal Divine energy, in a generalized condition, unindividuated, diffused, pervading all Nature, is what we call physical and chemical force. The same energy in higher form, individuating matter, and itself individuated, but only yet very imperfectly, is what we call the life-force43 of plants. The same energy, more fully individuating matter and itself more fully individuated, but not completely, we call the anima of animals. This anima, or animal soul, as time went on, was individuated more and more until it resembled and foreshadowed the spirit of man. Finally, still the same energy, completely individuated as a separate entity and therefore self-conscious, capable of separate existence and therefore immortal, we call the spirit of man.
According to this view, the vital principle of plants and the anima of animals are but different stages of the development of spirit in the womb of Nature: in man at last it came to birth. In plants and animals it was in deep embryo sleep—in the latter, quickened, indeed, but not viable—still unconscious of self, incapable of independent life, with physical, umbilical connection with Nature; but now at last in man, separated from Nature, capable of independent life, born into a new and higher plane of existence. Separated, but not wholly: Nature is no longer gestative mother, but still nursing mother of spirit. As the organic embryo at birth reaches independent material or temporal life, even so spirit embryo by birth attains independent spiritual or eternal life.
Although birth is its truest correspondence and best illustration, yet we may vary the illustration in many ways:
1. Nature may be likened to a level water-surface. This represents unindividuated physical and chemical force. On this surface some individuating force pulls up a portion of the water into a commencing drop. This represents the condition of spirit in plants. Or by greater force the surface may be lifted higher into a nipple-like eminence simulating a drop, or even into an almost complete drop with only a neck-like connection with the general surface. This represents the condition of spirits in the higher animals. In all these cases, even though the drop be nearly completed, if we remove the individuating or lifting force, the commencing drop is immediately drawn back by cohesion and refunded into the general watery surface. But, once complete the drop, and there is no longer any tendency to revert, even though the lifting force is removed. This represents the condition of spirit in man.
2. Or Nature may, again, be likened to a water-surface beneath which the anima of animals is deeply and tranquilly submerged, wholly unknowing of any higher, freer world above. In man spirit emerges above the surface into a higher world, looks down on Nature beneath him, around on other emerged spirits about him, and upward to the Father of all spirits above him. Emerged, but not wholly free—head above, but not yet foot-loose.
3. Or, again: As a planet must break away from physical, cohesive connection with the central sun (planet-birth) in order to enter into higher gravitative relations, which thenceforward determine all its movements in beautiful harmony; as the embryo must break away from physical umbilical connection with the mother in order to enter into higher spiritual bonds of love, which thenceforward determine all their mutual relations—even so spirit must break away from physical and material connection with the forces of Nature, which are but the omnipresent Divine energy, in order thereby to enter into higher relations of filial love to God and brotherly love to man.
4. As the new-born child differs little in grade of physical organization from the mature but unborn embryo, but at the moment of birth there is a sudden and complete change, not so much in the grade of organization but in the whole plane of existence—a change absolutely necessary for further advance, for another cycle of life; even so at the moment of the origin of man, howsoever this may have been accomplished, there may have been no great change in the grade of psychical structure, but yet a complete change in the plane of psychical life—a change absolutely necessary for further advance, for another cycle of evolution. In both cases there is a sudden entrance into a new world, the sudden appearance of a new creature with entirely different capacities—a passing out of an old world, a waking up in a new and higher. According to this view, man alone is a child of God, capable of separate spirit-life—separate but not yet wholly independent of Nature. As already said, Nature is no longer gestative mother, but still nursing mother of spirit—we are weaned only by death.
5. Or, again: As in passing up the organic scale, we find all grades of completeness of organic individuality, an increasing individuation of bodily form which completes itself as a perfect organic individual only in the higher animals, so, also, in passing up the dynamic scale, force or energy is individuated more and more until the process reaches completeness as a spirit-individual or dynamic individual—a person only in man. Organic individuality completes itself in animals. Psychic individuality only in man.
6. One more illustration and the last. The animal body may be likened to an exquisitely adjusted instrument of communication between two worlds—the material world without and the spiritual world within. The key-boards of this marvelous instrument are the nerve-terminals of the sense-organs in contact with the material world, and the brain-cells in touch with the spirit-world. External Nature plays on the one by sensation and determines changes in spirit. Spirit plays on the other by will and muscular contraction, and determines changes in external Nature. Now, in animals spirit is fast asleep or at most dreaming, or even perhaps somnambulistic, but at least unconscious of self, and acts only by stimulus—only responds in some sense automatically as sleepers do. In man spirit is wide awake and may respond automatically like animals, or may choose not to respond at all. Moreover, it acts freely in its own domain—the world of ideas—without external stimulus; or of its own free-will may initiate changes in the external world. With God all phenomena commence at the spirit-end. In animals all commence at the matter-end, and by automatic response terminate in the same. Man alone lives in both worlds, partakes of both natures, and acts according to either method.
The more we reflect on this subject, the more we shall be convinced that completed spirit individuality explains, as nothing else can, all that is characteristic of man. It is this which constitutes person, or the self-acting ego. It is this which constitutes self-consciousness, free-will, and moral responsibility. And out of these, again, grows, the recognition of relations to other moral beings and to God, and therefore ethics and religion. Out of these, also, grows the capacity of indefinite voluntary progress. This also means separate life, spirit-viability, or immortality. Self-consciousness especially seems to me the simplest sign of separate entity or spirit-individuality, and its appearance among psychical phenomena the very act of spirit-birth. We may imagine man to have emerged ever so gradually from animals: in this gradual development the moment he became conscious of self, the moment he turned his thoughts inward in wonder upon himself and on the mystery of his existence as separate from Nature, that moment marks the birth of humanity out of animality. All else characteristic of man followed as a necessary consequence. I am quite sure that, if any animal, say a dog or a monkey, could be educated up to the point of self-consciousness (which, however, I am sure is impossible), that moment he (no longer it) would become a moral responsible being, and all else characteristic of moral beings would follow. At that moment would come personality, immortality, capacity of voluntary progress; and science, philosophy, religion, would quickly follow.
We have emphasized self-consciousness as the most fundamental sign of spirit-individuality; but a difference of exactly the same kind is found running through the whole gamut of human faculties as compared with corresponding faculties in animals. As animal consciousness is related to human self-consciousness, so exactly is animal will to human free-will, animal intelligence to human reason, animal sign-language to rational grammatical speech of man, constructive art of animals to true rational progressive art of man. In every one of these the resemblance is great, but the difference is immense, and not only in degree but also in kind. In every case it is like shadow and substance, promise and fulfillment, or, still better, it is like embryo and child. The change from one to the other is like to a birth into a higher sphere, the beginning of another cycle of evolution. We would like to follow this idea out in detail, but it would lead us beyond the scope of this work. Those who desire to do so we would refer to an article by the author on the “Psychical Relation of Man to Animals.”44
But it will be objected that there are other births of energy from lower to higher condition; but such births do not insure continued existence in the higher condition. In the gradual evolution of energy described on page 316, when a portion rises from physical to chemical, from chemical to vital, or from vital to sentient, it does not remain ever after in the higher condition—there is no immortality on the higher plane. On the contrary, all these lower forms of energy are continually ascending and descending; transformation is downward as well as upward. Why should there be an exception in this last birth? In these successive upward metamorphoses of energy why should the last only be permanent? I answer: Because it reaches at last its final goal, viz., complete individuation, as free, self-acting spirit; it reaches again the spiritual plane from which it sprang, and becomes thereby a partaker of the Divine nature; because it comes at last into moral relations with the absolute—the Divine—and therefore above the plane of shifting changes. If the scale of energy be likened to a ladder with many rounds, reaching from the plane of matter to the plane of spirit, then so long as energy is on the ladder it ascends and descends; but, once it reaches the plane of free spirit, it is in a wholly new world in which eternal ascent is the law.
Perhaps I can best bring out the reasonableness of my view by comparing it with other possible alternative views.
There are three possible views as to the nature, the origin, and the destiny of the human spirit: (1.) That it pre-existed always—uncreated, underived, eternal, both ways—backward as well as forward. Therefore, as it never began, so it will never end. It is immortal of its own right. This is substantially the view of Plato, of Leibnitz, and perhaps some other philosophers. (2.) That it is derived from God directly—created at once without natural process; that at the moment of creation of the first man Adam, and at some unknown time and in some inscrutable way in the history of each individual, it was injected into the body from the outside, and at the same time endowed with immortality. This, I take it, is the orthodox view. (3.) That it was indeed derived from God, but not directly; created indeed, but only by natural process of evolution; that it indeed pre-existed, but only as embryo in the womb of Nature, slowly developing through all geological times, and finally coming to birth as living soul in man. Thus it attains immortality at a certain stage of development, viz., at spirit-birth. This is the view I have striven to enforce.
I hold up these three views: Which is the more rational? The view of Plato—that of self-existent, uncreated, eternal spirit—I think few will entertain at this time of the world’s day. The usual orthodox view I have shown is surrounded with insuperable difficulties; is wholly unscientific and irrational. What is there left but the view presented above? Plato is right in asserting pre-existence, but wrong in denying creation. The usual view is right in asserting creation, but wrong in denying natural process. The view I have presented asserts pre-existence in embryo and creation by natural process. It therefore combines and reconciles the two extreme views, and is more rational than either.
Some General Conclusions.—There are still two or three thoughts so closely connected with what we have already said that we can not pass them over:
1. We have seen that every mental state corresponds with a particular brain state, and every mental change with a brain change. We have, therefore, here, two series, physical and psychical, corresponding with each other, term for term. For every change in the one there is a corresponding change in the other, both in kind and amount. Now, is not this the test of the relation of cause and effect? It certainly is. Yes, there must be a causal relation here, even though we are not able to understand the nature of the causal nexus. But which is cause and which effect? If the view above presented be correct, then in animals brain changes are in all cases the cause of psychical phenomena. In man alone, and only in his higher activities, psychic changes precede and determines brain changes. In man alone brain changes are determined not only by external but by internal impressions. Man alone perceives not only objects—material things—but also relations and properties abstracted from the objects, i. e., ideal things; and, moreover, not only relations between objects, but also relations between relations or ideas. In man alone there is an inner world—microcosm—the things of which are thoughts, ideas, etc. This self-acting power of spirit on the things of itself, instead of merely reacting as played upon by external nature, is characteristic of man, and is a necessary result and a sign of severance, partial at least, of physical bond with Nature.
2. Again, I have used the term vital principle. I must justify it. I know full well that it is the fashion to ridicule the term as a remnant of an old superstition which regards vital force as a sort of supernatural entity unrelated to other forces of Nature. No one has striven more earnestly than myself to establish the correlation of vital with physical and chemical forces;45 and yet, if the view above presented be true, there is a kind of justification even for the term vital principle—much more, vital force. There is a kind of reason and true insight in the personification of the forces of Nature, and especially of vital force. All forces, by progressive dynamic individuation, are on the way toward entity or personality, but fully attain that condition only in man.
3. Again, to perceive relations and properties abstracted from material things, to form abstract or general ideas, to form not only percepts but also concepts, is admitted to be a characteristic of man—a characteristic on which all our science and philosophy rest. From time immemorial the vexed question has been debated, “Have such abstract or general ideas any real existence, or are they mere names of figments of the mind?” This is the famous question of realism and nominalism. Now, if our view be correct, then there is one most fundamental abstraction, viz., self, which is indeed a reality. Self-consciousness is the direct recognition of the one reality, spirit, of which all others are the sign and shadow—the true reality which underlies and gives potency to all abstractions or ideas. Do we not find in this view, then, the foundation of a true realism, or rather a complete reconciliation of realism and nominalism?
4. Thus, then, Nature, through the whole geological history of the earth, was gestative mother of spirit, which, after its long embryonic development, came to birth and independent life and immortality in man. Is there any conceivable meaning in Nature without this consummation? All evolution has its beginning, its course, its end. Without spirit-immortality this beautiful cosmos, which has been developing into increasing beauty for so many millions of years, when its evolution has run its course and all is over, would be precisely as if it had never been—an idle dream, an idiot tale signifying nothing. I repeat: Without spirit-immortality the cosmos has no meaning. Now mark: It is equally evident that, without this gestative method of creation of spirit, the whole geological history of the earth previous to man would have no meaning. If man’s spirit were made at once out of hand, why all this elaborate preparation by evolution of the organic kingdom? The whole evolution of the cosmos through infinite time is a gestative process for the birth of spirit—a divine method of the creation of spirits.
Thus, again, man is born of Nature into a higher nature. He therefore alone is possessed of two natures—a lower, in common with animals, and a higher, peculiar to himself. The whole mission and life-work of man is the progressive and finally the complete dominance, both in the individual and in the race, of the higher over the lower. The whole meaning of sin is the humiliating bondage of the higher to the lower. As the material evolution of Nature found its goal, its completion, and its significance in man, so must man enter immediately upon a higher spiritual evolution to find its goal and completion and its significance in the ideal man—the Divine man. As spirit, unconscious in the womb of Nature, continued to develop by necessary law until it came to birth and independent life in man, so the new-born spirit of man, both in the individual and in the race, must ever strive by freer law to attain, through a newer birth, unto a higher life.
In the two preceding chapters we have discussed the relation of God to Nature and of man to Nature. There is still another relation, if possible, of still more vital importance to us, viz., the relation of God to man. This, of course, introduces the question of revelation—a subject which I approach with some reluctance. I feel I am treading on holy ground, and must do so with shoes removed. If it be asked, How is evolution concerned with the subject of revelation? I answer Evolution emphasizes and enforces the reign of law taught by all science, and makes it at last universal. Many conclude, therefore, that, if evolution be true, a belief in the possibility of any form of revelation is irrational. I do not think this follows, and I will give my reasons. I do so, however, very briefly, because we are not yet ready to formulate our views except in the most general way.
If man be indeed something more than a higher species of animal; if man’s spirit be indeed a spark of Divine energy individuated to the point of self-consciousness and recognition of his relation to God; if spirit embryo, developing in the womb of Nature through all geological time, came to birth and independent spirit-life in man, and thus man alone is a child of God as well as a product of Nature—if all this be true, then it is evident that this wholly new relation requires also a wholly different mode of Divine operation. If God operates on Nature only by regular processes, which we call natural laws, then he must operate on spirit in a different and a more direct way, and this we call revelation. If to the student of Nature it is inconceivable that He should operate on Nature except by natural laws (for this is the name we give to His chosen mode of operation there), then to the student of theology it is equally inconceivable, if our view of man be true, that He should not operate on spirit in some more direct and higher way, i. e., by revelation.
But some will ask, Is not this a palpable violation of law? I think not. All divine operations are, must be, according to reason, i. e., according to law. The operation of the divine on the human spirit, i. e., revelation, must therefore be according to law, but a higher law than that which governs Nature, and, therefore, from the point of view of Nature, supernatural. There is nothing wholly unique in this. Life is a higher form of force than the physical and chemical. Life-phenomena are therefore super-physical, and if we confined the term Nature to dead Nature they would be supernatural. So the free, self-determined acts of spirit on spirit, even of the spirit of man on the spirit of man, much more of the Spirit of God on the spirit of man, may be according to law, and yet from the natural point of view be supernatural. It is true that, in the complex of phenomena, material and spiritual inextricably woven together, which go to make up human life, Science must ever strive to reduce as much as possible to material laws, for this is her domain, and she is bound to extend it; but, if our view of man be true, there will always remain a large residuum of phenomena—a whole world of phenomena—which will never yield, because clearly beyond her domain. Standing on the lower material plane, these phenomena are wholly super-material, and therefore incomprehensible from the material point of view. We must rise and stand on the higher plane before these also are reduced to law, but a higher law than that operating on the lower plane. If, therefore, science insists on banishing the supernatural from the realm of Nature, theology may reasonably insist on its necessity, in this sense, in the realm of morals and religion.
If, then, the direct influence of the Spirit of God on the spirit of man be what we call revelation, then there is evidently no other kind of revelation possible; and, furthermore, such revelation is given to all men in different degrees. It is given to all men as conscience; in greater measure to all great and good men as clearer perception of righteousness; in pre-eminent measure to Hebrew prophets and Christian apostles; but supremely and perfectly to Jesus alone. But there is, and in the nature of things there can be, no test of truth but reason. We must fearlessly, but honestly and reverently, try all things, even revelations, by this test. We must not regard, as so many do, the spirit of man as the passive amanuensis of the Spirit of God. Revelations to man must of necessity partake of the imperfections of the medium through which it comes. As pure water from heaven, falling upon and filtering through earth, must gather impurities in its course differing in amount and kind according to the earth, even so the pure divine truth, filtering through man’s mind, must take imperfections characteristic of the man and of the age. Such filtrate must be redistilled in the alembic of reason to separate the divine truth from the earthy impurities.
It will be observed that the views presented in the last three chapters are closely connected with one another, and all conditioned on the “Relation of God to Nature,” urged in Chapter III. Now it will doubtless be objected to this view, especially as applied in Chapter IV on the “Relation of Man to Nature,” that it is naught else than pure pantheism; that it destroys completely the personality of Deity, and with it all our hopes of communion with him, and all our aspirations of love and worship toward him; that, according to this view, God becomes only the soul or animating principle of Nature, operating everywhere but unconsciously like the vital principle of an organism; that the whole cosmos becomes in fact a great organism, developing under the operation of resident force according to necessary law, only that we apotheosize this omnipresent force and call it God; and finally, that God is naught else than an abstraction, created like other abstractions or general ideas wholly by the human mind, and having no objective existence. Furthermore, it will be said, that according to this view, this omnipresent unconscious energy individuates itself by necessary law of evolution more and more until it reaches, for the first time in man, self-consciousness and immortality, and thus that man himself is the only self-conscious immortal being in existence, and therefore the only being worthy of reverence and worship. Thus, this view leads to humanity-worship or rather to self-worship.
I feel the full force of this objection. I answer it as follows: I freely admit that, following up this scientific line of thought alone, we are carried strongly in the direction of pantheism. But there is nothing strange or exceptional in this. In all the deepest questions, single lines of thought inevitably carry us to extreme one-sided views. This seems to be the necessary result of the essentially two-fold nature of man, self-conscious spirit in a material body, the relation between which is, and must ever be, inscrutable. On this account there is and must be a fundamental antithesis in human philosophy, i. e., two lines of thought, the material and spiritual, which lead to two apparently irreconcilable views.46 We have already seen that a rational philosophy, whenever we are able to reach such, is always found in a higher and more comprehensive view, which includes, combines, and reconciles two one-sided, partial, and mutually excluding views. But spirit and matter, or mind and brain, or God and Nature, is the fundamental antithesis which underlies and is the cause of all other lesser antitheses. This antithesis, therefore, is absolutely fundamental, and therefore forever irreconcilable. We must accept both sides, even though we can not clearly perceive the nature of their relation. We must be content with compromise where we can not effect complete reconciliation. We must frankly acknowledge that the antagonism is apparent only, and the result of the limitation of our faculties, and believe that, if we could only rise to a high enough point of view, like all other antitheses, this also would disappear in a rational philosophy.
Now, to apply these principles. No one, we admit, can form a clear conception of how immanence of Deity is consistent with personality, and yet we must accept both, because we are irresistibly led to each of these by different lines of thought. Science, following one line of thought, uncorrected by a wider philosophy, is naturally led toward the one extreme of pantheistic immanence; the devout worshiper, following the wants of his religious nature, is naturally led toward the other extreme of anthropomorphic personality. The only rational view is to accept both immanence and personality, even though we can not clearly reconcile them, i. e., immanence without pantheism, and personality without anthropomorphism. We have already seen in the third chapter, how following the scientific line of thought, we are logically driven to immanence. We wish now to show how, following another line of thought, we are as logically driven to personality. On this most difficult subject, however, all we are prepared to do is to throw out some brief suggestions, in the hope that they may be carried out more perfectly by some thoughtful reader; scatter some seed-thoughts, in the hope that, falling haply on good soil, they may spring up and bear more fruit than I have been able to produce.
1. In the gradual individuation of the universal Divine energy described in Chapter IV, there must of course be a corresponding growth of a kind of independent self-activity which reaches completeness in man, and in fact constitutes what we call self-consciousness and free will. The exact nature of the relation of Deity or of the general forces of Nature to this gradually individuated portion, I do not undertake to define. And how this idea of partial self-activity comports with the absoluteness of Deity we can not clearly understand. But this fact need not specially disturb us here; for this is only one branch of the wider question of the moral agency of man in relation to the absolute sovereignty of God, or the freedom of man in relation to necessary law in Nature.
2. Personality behind Nature.—We have already shown that, if the brain of a living, thinking man were exposed to the scrutiny of an outside observer with absolutely perfect senses, all that he would or could possibly see would be molecular motions, physical and chemical. But the subject himself, the thinking, self-conscious spirit, would experience and observe by introspection only consciousness, thought, emotion, etc. On the outside, only physical phenomena; on the inside only psychical phenomena. Now, must not the same be necessarily true of Nature also? Viewed from the outside by the scientific observer, nothing is seen, nothing can be seen, there is nothing else to be seen, but motions, material phenomena; but behind these, on the other side, on the inside, must not there be in this case also psychical phenomena, consciousness, thought, will; in a word, personality?47 In the only place where we do get behind physical phenomena, viz., in the brain, we find psychical phenomena. Are we not justified, then, in concluding that in all cases the psychical lies behind the physical? The human brain is a wonderful instrument, by means of which, in some inscrutable way, viz., in our own experience, we do get behind, on the other side, on the inside of some material phenomena, and in so far become partakers of the Divine nature. But behind other phenomena of Nature we may never hope to penetrate either by observation or experience, but only in dim way by highest reason. Science, even in the case of the brain, can not pass from the one kind of phenomena to the other. If she would study the inside she must abandon the outside—she must abandon the microscope and take to introspection. If she would study the phenomena of the higher platform, she must leave the lower and climb up and stand on the higher. If this be true of the brain where the two kinds of phenomena are brought so close together, how much more is it true of the phenomena of the cosmos. We can never hope, either by observation or by experience, to pass beyond the veil. We must abandon the methods of science and reach it, if at all, in some other way. Not the clear-sighted but the pure-hearted shall see God in Nature.
Thus, then, we see that our own self-conscious personality behind brain phenomena compels us to accept consciousness, will, thought, personality behind Nature. Now I assert that, once get this abstract idea in the mind, and by a necessary law of thought it gradually expands without limit, and eventually reaches the form of infinite consciousness, will, thought, etc., and therefore of an infinite person. This law of indefinite expansion may be illustrated by the ideas of space and time. The animal, and, indeed, the infant, understands space and time only in their relation to itself, but has not yet abstracted these from their contents. This comes only with the birth of self-conscious personality. But, so soon as the abstract idea of space is acquired, by a necessary law of mental activity it expands without limit, and finally becomes the idea of infinite space. Similarly, so soon as the idea of time as abstracted from its contents is conceived, it inevitably expands without limit and grows into the idea of infinite time. So is it precisely with the idea of self-conscious personality. The animal or the very young child is indeed conscious of its body and of external objects in their mutual relations, but not of self, as abstracted from its contents. The animal never attains it, the child does. Now, so soon as this idea of self-conscious personality—of a spiritual entity underlying material phenomena—appears, by a necessary law of mental activity it expands without limit, and inevitably reaches the idea of an infinite self, an infinite person, God, behind the phenomena of Nature.
But some will object that this idea of infinite personality is inconceivable. True enough; but the opposite is far more inconceivable. The ideas of infinite space and infinite time are also inconceivable, yet we must accept them, because the idea of all space or all time being limited is still more inconceivable; for if we think of space or time as limited, immediately there comes the question, “What is there beyond the limit?” There is therefore this wide difference between these two inconceivables: the one is so only in the sense of transcending the power of our mind, but the other is unthinkable, self-contradictory, absurd. So also is it with self-conscious personality. The idea of an infinite self, i. e., God, is indeed inconceivable, but only in the sense of transcending our power of comprehension; but the idea of the consciousness behind the cosmos as being limited or finite is more than inconceivable, it is unthinkable, self-contradictory, absurd; for immediately comes the question, “What is there beyond which limits it?” To the Greek mind Zeus was limited; therefore of necessity came also the idea of Fate, superior to and limiting Zeus himself. To them, therefore, Fate was the real God—the absolute.
3. Divine Personality.—I have used the word personality as expressing the nature of God. But let me not be misunderstood. I well know we can not conceive clearly of an infinite, unconditioned personality. Deeply considered, it seems nothing short of a contradiction in terms. All I insist on is this: In our view of the nature of God, the choice is not between personality and something lower than personality, viz., an unconscious force operating Nature by necessity, as the materialists and pantheists would have us believe; but between personality as we know it in ourselves and something inconceivably higher than personality. Language is so poor that we are obliged to represent even our mental phenomena by physical images. How much more, then, the Divine nature by its human image! Self-conscious personality is the highest thing we know or can conceive. We offer him the very best and truest we have when we call him a Person; even though we know that this, our best, falls far short of the infinite reality.