FOOTNOTES:

FOOTNOTES:[5]SeeAppendixon Bishop Berkeley's Idealism.[6]First Principles, ch. iii. § 20.[7]Ibid., § 26.

[5]SeeAppendixon Bishop Berkeley's Idealism.

[6]First Principles, ch. iii. § 20.

[7]Ibid., § 26.

Assuming the process of evolution to be a fact, we have inquired what is the value of that fact, what significance it has for man as a moral being, anxious to direct his life in accordance with the best lights he can obtain. In our attempts to draw any inference from the facts of evolution as to the moral government of the universe, we have always found ourselves ultimately confronted by the notice—The Real is Unknowable. Obviously, if "the ultimate of ultimates," the Real Power or Force, of which all things and beings are manifestations, is unknowable, we cannot know whether it cares or does not care for what is true or good. But if the Real is Unknowable, then the knowledge which we do possess is not knowledge of the real, and consequently all our science is unreal knowledge; the theory of evolution is a system of delusive inferences from unreal facts. That, however, is a thing which we could not believe. Doubtless ourknowledge is small compared with our ignorance. Doubtless there is much which the human mind could not understand without becoming more than human. Doubtless, also, every addition to our knowledge involves a readjustment and correction of our previous inferences; and a considerable addition, such as the theory of evolution was, causes a considerable change in our conception of the universe and its laws. But all these admissions cannot compel us to admit that science is wholly unreal knowledge, or that evolution is an entirely unreal process. We sought, accordingly, to show that we have some, if only partial, knowledge of the real, that that knowledge is not wholly inferential, but that so far as it is inferred it is inferred from real facts, the reality of which is directly apprehended in the common experience of mankind.

As a matter of fact, those writers who proclaim the unknowability of the Real, when they are writing as philosophers, abandon it when they are engaged in science. When they are working out the theory of evolution, they take it for granted that the process of evolution is a reality, that the common experience of mankind is trustworthy to some extent, and that to that extent the Real is knowable and known. They assure us that, though the knowledge we have is not knowledge of the Real, it is just the same for us as if it were—if the Real could enter into our consciousness, we really should not know the difference."Thus then we may resume, with entire confidence, those realistic conceptions which philosophy at first sight seems to dissipate."[8]

On examination, however, it turns out that the entire confidence which is thus restored to the reality of material things is not extended to the reality of those ideals of the good, the beautiful, and the holy which play their part in the lives of men and in the evolution of mankind—or not to all of those ideals.

Now, it is scarcely to be hoped that a theory which begins by ignoring certain facts in the common experience of mankind, or by denying their reality, can end in a satisfactory explanation of them. Either it will be consistent and proclaim them to be illusions, or it will be inconsistent and quietly include them from time to time as it goes on—in which case the explanation it gives of them will be no explanation. Thus, for instance, as we have already argued, the Optimistic interpretation of evolution, professing to exhibit the Ideal of morality as one of the ultimate consequences of the redistribution of matter and motion, ends by denying any difference between what is and what ought to be, and thus reduces the moral ideal to a mere illusion. The Pessimist, on the other hand, insisting on the reality, and to some extent the supremacy of the moral ideal, confesses his inability to explain itsvalidity as being due to evolution: the fact that it has been evolved does not account for its validity, because the tendency to evil has been also evolved, but is not, therefore, to be yielded to.

The object of this chapter is to examine the hypothesis that the process of evolution is nothing but a perpetual redistribution of matter and motion, and to show that the hypothesis cannot explain, and as a matter of fact does not explain, all the facts which it is framed to account for.

The theory of evolution is an attempt—one of many attempts that men have made—to explain the process by which the totality of things has come to be what it is. It differs from most other attempts in that it endeavours to give a scientific explanation of the process, and that consequently it does not profess to go back to the beginning or to discover the origin of the process.

The nature of scientific "explanation" is well understood by men of science (in England, at least), and has been made familiar to the non-scientific world by John Stuart Mill. An event is scientifically "explained" when it is shown to be a case of a general law; a law is "explained" when it is shown to come under some more general law. In other words, the business of science is to show that the thing under examination always happens (or tends to happen) under certain circumstances which science can formulate with more or less exactness. Buthoworwhythe thing should happen thus, science does not undertake to explain: "what is called explaining one law of nature by another, is but substituting one mystery for another; and does nothing to render the general course of nature other than mysterious: we can no more assign awhyfor the more extensive laws than for the partial ones."[9]It is only "minds not habituated to accurate thinking" which imagine that the laws are thecausesof the events which happen in accordance with them, "that the law of general gravitation, for example, causes the fall of bodies to the earth."[10]It may be a law of science, a perfectly true statement, that the phenomenon B always follows the phenomenon A; but that statement, true as it is, is not the cause of B.ThatA is always followed by B is demonstrated by science.Whyit should be followed by B is as mysterious as magic—as mysterious as that the waving of the magician's wand should be immediately followed by the rising of a palace from the ground. How the one thingcanfollow the other, is no part of science's business to explain.

Science, therefore, is essentially descriptive: with ever-increasing accuracy it describes things and the order in which they happen. Evolution, then, as a scientific theory, is also purely descriptive: it describes the way in which things have come tobe what we see them to be, the process by which the totality of things has come to be what it is. But when the purely scientific and descriptive part of the work is done, when science has formulated the order of the events which have led up to the existing state of the universe, when the process of evolution has been described, there still remain the questions which science refused even to try to answer, and there also remain other questions more vital to science. There arises the question, In what sense is evolution a real process? do the laws of science exist only in the minds of men of science? is the process of evolution merely the description which is given of it (as according to some thinkers a thing is only the sensations which we have of it), or is it something more?

Obviously the question whether evolution is a real process, whether there is any reality in science, is one which cannot be answered, either in the affirmative or in the negative, without some idea of what "reality" means, of what the "real" is. "What is the meaning of the wordreal? This is the question which underlies every metaphysical inquiry; and the neglect of it is the remaining cause of the chronic antagonisms of metaphysicians."[11]Before we are logically entitled to say that evolution is a real process, we must answer the question, "What is the essence, the ultimate reality of things? who or whatis the Being that is manifested in 'all thinking things, all objects of all thought'?"[12]

Now, to these questions, as to the Being and Becoming of the universe, science has nothing to say. Science does not even afford the materials for an answer to them, any more than to those other questions as tohoworwhythings should happen in the way which science describes. Science describes things, but does not undertake to prove that things exist. Science is organised common sense, and common sense takes it for granted that things exist. Having made this assumption, science proceeds to investigate with scientific exactness the order in which events succeed one another and co-exist with one another, within the range of direct observation; and infers that, even when they are beyond the range of direct observation, they continue to occur in the same order of sequence and co-existence. But here again science refuses to have anything to do with any metaphysical questions as tohoworwhythings should thus occur. All sorts of conjectures may be made, and have been made, to explain why B should follow A, or co-exist with it. But science is not pledged to any of them. The only thing she undertakes to show is the fact of the sequence or co-existence; and this she can do without assuming the truth of any of these conjectures. Indeed, the progress which science hasmade is largely due to the fact that she has steadily declined to have anything to do with such conjectures—having found out by experience that they simply distract her from her proper business of observing with the utmost exactness what actually does take place. It may be that A in some mysterious and wholly inexplicable way "produces" B, that is to say in technical phraseology, is "the efficient cause" or "mechanical cause" of B. It may be that the sequence of B upon A is a volition of the Being which is manifested in all thinking things, in all objects of all thought. Science cannot prove, and will not even discuss, either suggestion: she confines herself to the assertion that, as a matter of careful and exact observation, B does follow A. Whether we call A an efficient cause or not, matters not to science: call it so or refuse to call it so, the fact once established by science, that B follows A, remains. The theory of efficient or mechanical causes is doubtless of importance, but not to science. If it is proved to be false, not a single fact of science is shaken.

The mechanical theory may be true or may be false, but in either case it is a metaphysical theory. If science is descriptive—descriptive of the uniform succession and co-existence of facts—then science no more proves the mechanical theory to be true than it proves the volitional theory to be true. Both are theories as towhyfacts should succeedone another in the order described by science; and science does not undertake to prove the truth of such theories, nor does she wait for them to be proved or disproved.

Many men of science, however, are also philosophers, and hold, as they are fully entitled to hold, that the mechanical theory is the true interpretation of nature. Now, "mechanics is the science of motion; we can assign as its object: to describe completely and in the simplest manner the movements which occur in nature."[13]On the mechanical theory, therefore, "the object of all science is to reduce the phenomena of nature to forms of motion, and to describe these completely and in the simplest manner ... the only complete description is that afforded by a mathematical formula, in which the constants are supplied by observation. This permits us to calculate those features or phases of phenomena which are hidden from our observation in space or in time."[14]This, we need hardly add, is in agreement with Mr. Herbert Spencer's view of the theory of evolution as a description of the process of the redistribution of matter and motion.

It seems, then, that according to this particular metaphysical theory, which maintains the mechanical explanation of nature to be the true one, the objectof all science is to describe (with mathematical accuracy, where possible) the movements of things in space. But science is universal; evolution extends to the whole cosmic process. Therefore, the only things with which science has to do, or which are factors in the cosmic process, are things moving in space.

As a metaphysical argument this theory seems to us unsatisfactory. It converts, simply and illegitimately, the proposition sanctioned by common sense, that material things are real, into the proposition opposed to common sense, that all real things are material. It assumes, apparently unconsciously and certainly without proof, that the only things capable of scientific description are movements in space, the only laws in the universe mechanical laws.

Historically, material things were the first to be studied and described with scientific exactness. It is only natural, therefore, that the methods and assumptions which have been employed with conspicuous success by the physical sciences should be extended, tentatively at least, elsewhere. It is equally natural that protests should be raised, and the extension proclaimed by philosophers to be illegitimate—"impoverishing faith without enriching knowledge."[15]"To regard the course of the world as the development of some blind force which works on according to universal laws, devoid of insight andfreedom, devoid of interest in good and evil, are we to consider this unjustifiable generalisation of a concept, valid in its own sphere, as the higher truth?"[16]

It is not, however, likely that science will drop a generalisation, however "unjustifiable" in metaphysics, if it works in practice. The question is whether it does work; and that is plainly a question of fact, not a question of metaphysics. We want to know therefore, first, whether things moving in space are the only things with which we are acquainted in common experience; and, next, whether all the changes which take place within the range of scientific observation are or can be explained by the laws of mechanics.

It is clear that, if the mechanical theory of science and of evolution is to be successfully maintained, both these questions must be answered in the affirmative. It is equally clear that, if we confine ourselves to the actual facts, both questions must be answered in the negative.

Thoughts, ideas, conceptions, sensations, feelings, emotions are things of which we have experience at every moment of our waking lives; and none of them are things which occupy space or move in space. A thought is not a thing which can be measured by a foot-rule, as things in space can be; the greatness of an idea is not one whichmeasures so many yards by so many; a conception has no cubic contents; a toothache cannot be put in a pair of scales, nor can any process of chemical analysis be applied to hope or fear. We find ourselves, therefore, in this dilemma: if the mechanical theory is true, and science can deal only with things moving in space, then psychology and sociology are not sciences, and their subject-matter never can be made amenable to scientific treatment. On the other hand, if psychology is a science, then science deals with things which do not move in space.

We submit that psychologyisa science, that our sensations, emotions, ideas, etc., can be observed, and can be described scientifically, that is to say, that their uniform sequences and co-existences can be stated with accuracy and formulated as laws. We submit further that our definition of science should be based on facts, and not framed to suit a metaphysical theory. A satisfactory definition of science must include all the sciences. The definition put forward in the interests of the mechanical theory excludes arbitrarily the mental and moral sciences, and implies that their subject-matter is beyond the power of science to deal with. The exclusion and the implication are consequent upon the suggested limitation of science to things moving in space, and are of the essence of the mechanical theory. Both the exclusion and the implication are unnecessary if we adhere to the older conception of science,as it occurs in Mill, which claims for science all phenomena of which the sequences and co-existences can be observed, described, and formulated as laws.

What we have said with regard to science applies also of necessity to Evolution. If Evolution is simply the continual redistribution of matter and motion, if matter and motion are the only things subject to evolution, then consciousness and conscience are not subject to evolution. On the other hand, if they too have had and are having their evolution, then the redistribution of matter and motion does not sum up the process of evolution, and is not a correct statement of the process. If it were an induction drawn from a consideration of all the facts of evolution, it would cover them all. But it does not: it excludes a large class of important facts, because their exclusion is demanded in the interests of a particular metaphysical theory—the mechanical theory. It implies that the operation of evolution is confined to a limited set of facts. If the implication is false, then evolution is a bigger thing than the mere redistribution of matter and motion.

The way in which it is usually attempted to force the mechanical theory to square with the facts, or rather to cut the facts to fit the theory, is to point to the connection between the mind and the brain, and to proclaim the consequent dependence of mind on matter. Now, that there is a connection betweenmind and brain is certain. What the connection is exactly is as yet uncertain. But the fact that two things co-exist, are connected with one another and vary together, does not prove that the one thing is the other. On the contrary, it postulates that the two things, though related, are different. The mechanical theory either commits the fallacy of mistaking connected things for identical things, or it fails to prove the very thing necessary for its justification, viz. that thoughts, emotions, etc., are things occupying space and moving in space. The chemical and physiological changes which take place in the brain are movements in space. But it does not follow that the corresponding pains or ideas float about in the air or move from one point in space to another.

Further, as a metaphysical theory, this identification of matter with mind is a double-edged weapon: it cuts both ways: if mind is matter, matter is mind; if mind is thinking matter, then matter is latent thought; and thought is consequently exhibited not as being the last product of evolution, but as a factor in it from the beginning. But this identity of mind and matter is a purely metaphysical speculation: it is a conjecture to explainhowit is that two phenomena can co-exist in the way in which they are observed to do. Such conjectures science does not require: she does not undertake to explain why things are, but to describe—if possible with mathematicalexactness—the order of their sequence or co-existence. This function science can discharge equally well whether the changes of consciousness are or are not supposed to be movements in space. Metaphysicians may argue the point; in the meantime science is describing and formulating the laws of mind and endeavouring to correlate the changes of consciousness with the physical changes of the brain and the nervous system. The mechanical theory neither helps nor hinders science in her work.

But science does throw some difficulties in the way of the mechanical theory; or, rather, the facts of science refuse to fit into the theory. If the stream of consciousness is nothing but a series of physiological and chemical changes, the laws of the one ought to be identical with the laws of the other, and both with the laws of mechanics, on the mechanical theory. But they are not. Those concise descriptions of mental phenomena which constitute the laws of psychology ought to coincide with those other concise descriptions of fact which constitute the laws of chemistry, if the facts described by the two sciences are the same. But the two sets of laws have, to say the least, more differences than resemblances.

This brings us to our second point. Our first point was that if the concise description of evolution, which sums it up as the process by which matteris continually redistributed in space, is to be proved to be true, it must be shown that movements in space are the only events which we know to take place. Our second point is that, unless it can be shown that mechanical laws are the only laws at work in the universe, this description of evolution does not find room for the whole working of the process of evolution.

Whether the only laws in the universe are mechanical laws is primarily a question of fact; and on the facts, as known to us at present, the answer to the question is a decided negative. The laws of psychology and of ethics are neither identical with nor have they been deduced from any physical laws. As a hypothesis designed to explain the way in which the world works, the redistribution of matter and motion neither includes nor accounts for those laws which are of most importance to man.

This appeal to the facts which are actually known is, however, often conceived to be in reality an appeal to our ignorance: mental laws have not as yet been shown to be deducible from physical laws, but they may be. So, too, the fact that no attempt to extend the gravitation formula from astronomy to any other department of science has yet succeeded, is no proof that it never will be so extended. Neither, we may remark, does it constitute any presumption that it will. Are there, then, any other grounds for presuming that mental law may yet be shown to bemerely a case of some physical law? To some minds there seem to be grounds for presuming that it not only may, but must. However great our ignorance of the details of the process of evolution, there are certain broad facts which are beyond dispute. It is indisputable that there was a period in the history of the earth when there was no life upon it; that the elements which constitute living matter are themselves lifeless; that consciousness is correlated somehow with those organic compounds, the elements of which are inorganic. These facts together constitute an irresistible presumption that ultimately mind and matter must obey the same laws.

But this is not the desired conclusion. The conclusion desired is that mind must obey matter's laws. The fact that mind and matter obey the same ultimate laws is a different thing, and rather indicates that even the redistribution of matter and motion requires ultimately some other explanation than merely mechanical laws afford. To the religious mind it is quite intelligible that mind and matter should obey the same laws—God's laws.

It may be said, however, that we have not done full justice to the presumption raised by the broad facts of evolution. When there was no life upon the earth, the only laws in operation must have been physical laws, and consequently the laws of life and consciousness must have been produced by the laws of matter.

Now, this argument in effect amounts to a denial of any difference between the mechanical composition and the chemical combination of bodies. Bodies when mechanically compounded continue to follow the same laws as they obey when uncompounded, and their conjoint action can be deduced and foretold from the laws to which they are subject in their separate state: "Whatever would have happened in consequence of each cause taken by itself happens when they are together, and we have only to cast up the results."[17]With chemical combination the case is quite different: the chemical compound exhibits properties and behaves in ways which are quite different from the properties and behaviour of its elements, and could not be foretold from any observation of them. Water, which is a combination of oxygen and hydrogen, exhibits no trace of the properties of either. "If this be true of chemical combinations, it is still more true of those far more complex combinations of elements which constitute organised bodies, and in which those extraordinary new uniformities arise, which are called the laws of life. All organised bodies are composed of parts similar to those composing inorganic nature, and which have even themselves existed in an inorganic state; but the phenomena of life, which result from the juxtaposition of those parts in a certain manner, bear no analogy to anyof the effects which would be produced by the action of the component substance considered as mere physical agents.... The tongue, for instance, is, like all other parts of the animal frame, composed of gelatine, fibrin, and other products of the chemistry of digestion, but from no knowledge of the properties of those substances could we ever predict that it could taste, unless gelatine or fibrin could themselves taste; for no elementary fact can be in the conclusion which was not in the premises."[18]

What is thus true of physiology and of those chemical combinations on which it is based, is true also of sociology and the psychological facts on which it is based. "When physiological elements are combined, the combination reveals properties which were not appreciable in the separate elements. The increasingly complex combination or association of organic elements may produce an entirely special set of phenomena.... Their combination exhibits something more than the mere sum of their separate properties. Thus, no knowledge of man as an individual would enable us to forecast all the institutions which result from the association of men and which can only manifest themselves in social life."[19]

It is clear, then, that the mechanical theory of evolution can only maintain itself by obliteratingthe distinction between mechanical juxtaposition and chemical combination. The obstacles which stand in the way of this obliteration, at the outset, are two. First, the behaviour of a chemical compound bears no resemblance to the behaviour of its constituents when separate. Next, the laws of the compound cannot be deduced or exhibited as consequences of the laws of the separate elements. To these two objections it may be replied, first, that though the compound bears no resemblance to its separate constituents, the character of every aggregate must be determined by that of its component parts; and, next, that with more knowledge we shall come to see the way in which the laws of the separate components generate the law of the whole. Perhaps, by way of illustration, we may employ an analogy. A number of bricks can be placed on one another to form a cube; a number of cannon balls will form a pyramidical pile. The aggregate of bricks resembles in shape the separate bricks; the aggregate of balls does not resemble a ball in shape. Yet the pyramidical shape of the pile of cannon balls is as certainly determined by the shape of the separate balls, as the cubical shape of the heap of bricks is determined by that of the separate bricks. Now, we do not know the geometrical structure of chemical atoms; but, on this analogy, it is reasonable to suppose that, if we did, we should see at once that the structure of a chemicalcompound is dependent on, though different from, that of its elements. So too in sociology, the aggregate, society, is not a human being, but the character of any given society is determined by the character of its individual members.

This last illustration, however, brings us to a fresh difficulty in the way of the mechanical theory. As is observed in the remarks quoted previously from Monsieur Bernard, the peculiar characteristic of those more intimate combinations which form the subject-matter of chemistry, physiology, and sociology is that in them the combining elements reveal properties which were not perceptible in them previous to their combination. It may be true that the character of these more intimate combinations is determined by the properties of their constituents, but it is by the properties which they reveal when in combination, not by those which are manifest in them when uncombined. Therein lies the difference between mechanical compounds and chemical combinations; and it is that difference which the mechanical theory does not account for. The more intimate, chemical, physiological, and sociological combinations take place in virtue of properties which require the combination to reveal them. In sociology it is not the juxtaposition of individual men, but their co-operation, which makes a society. In chemistry, the formation of chemical compounds implies the affinity of the elements.

It seems, then, that the mechanical theory contains half the truth, but not the whole truth. The half-truth which it insists on is that in both mechanical and chemical combinations there is juxtaposition of the constituent elements. The half of the truth which it overlooks is that when the elements are juxtaposed in one way they develop or manifest new qualities, when juxtaposed in the other way they do not. The mechanical theory asserts that the only factors in evolution are matter and the force which moves matter about: it takes into account the external factors, but leaves out the internal force or spontaneity in virtue of which things in a suitable environment develop new qualities. Doubtless the juxtaposition of the elements is a condition without which they would not manifest their new properties: the redistribution of matter and motion is a condition of evolution, but it does not constitute evolution. Rather, it is the continual revelation of these new qualities which constitutes evolution, chemical affinity and all its consequences in chemistry, spontaneous variation and all its consequences in the evolution of organic life.

From this point of view it becomes clear why the laws of a chemical compound neither are nor can be exhibited as consequences of or deductions from the laws of its separate constituents. The properties which the law of the compound describes are not the properties which the separate elements exhibit.The living matter of biology, the active atoms of chemistry, are not products of the lifeless, inert matter of mechanics; but are different and higher revelations of the same power which is manifested in different degrees in all. It is this progressive manifestation, and not the mere drifting about of bits of matter, which constitutes evolution. The redistribution of matter and motion may be a concomitant of evolution, but it is not evolution. "The continuous adjustment of internal relations to external relations," which Mr. Herbert Spencer[20]offers as a definition of life, may be a condition of the maintenance of an organism; but life is and means to each one of us, and to the humblest thing that breathes, much more than that. Mr. Spencer's definition of life leaves, for instance, consciousness out, as of no account in life, and would be equally applicable to many automatic, self-adjusting machines. The definition constitutes an admission that life and consciousness cannot be exhibited as a consequence of the redistribution of matter and motion. They appear at a certain (or uncertain) point in the process of redistribution, and they have as concomitants certain further redistributions; but they are neither the consequence of nor are they identical with that redistribution; nor can their laws be reduced to mere cases of the laws of matter and motion.

The doctrine that evolution consists in nothing but movements in space, amounts to the assertion that we know nothing about things and men except that they move. In point of fact, we know a good deal more. We know that men think, and that the movement of thought is not a movement in space. We know that the vibrations of the ether are movements in space and that they are also something more: they are known to us also as sights, sounds, etc. No explanation or concise statement of the process of evolution can be satisfactory, or even scientific, which begins by denying the relevance and even the reality of the most important part of our knowledge. If the "first principles" of evolution are to be scientific, they must be inductions drawn from observation and based on some similarity in the phenomena observed, in which case, and in which case alone, they will apply to both classes of phenomena, mental and material. If any "principle" is true of one class alone, it is shown thereby not to be a "first principle": it is not universally applicable.

This raises the question whether there can be any first principles in this sense, whether mind and matter are, to some extent, subject to the same laws; or whether the resemblances which are sometimes drawn are not merely metaphors more or less expanded. Thus we speak of "weighty" objections; but will anyone maintain that ideas aresubject to, or exemplify, the law of gravitation? We speak of ideas as "coherent" or "incoherent"; does anyone suppose that they stick together in the same way and from the same causes as material objects cohere?

Mr. Herbert Spencer has written a chapter[21]under the title "Society is an Organism," in which he points out many resemblances between society and an organism. But Mr. Spencer himself "distinctly asserts"[22]that the resemblances imply nothing more than that in both society and organisms there is "a mutual dependence of parts." That is to say, sociology does not herein "exemplify" some of the laws of biology, but sociology and biology both exemplify certain laws which hold good wherever there is a mutual dependence of parts.

Again, Mr. Spencer says[23]that "evolution is definable as a change from an incoherent homogeneity to a coherent heterogeneity, accompanying the dissipation of motion and integration of matter"; and, having shown how and why the homogeneous and the incoherent in the domain of physics tend to become coherent and heterogeneous, he proceeds to show that there is a similar process in the evolution of knowledge, and to say "these mental changes exemplify a law of physical transformations that are wrought by physical forces."[24]Now it doubtless is a fact thatwith intellectual development there goes a more accurate discrimination of differences at first unnoticed, a readier perception of resemblances at first undetected, a consequent segregation and classification of ideas, and a recognition of heterogeneity where homogeneity was at the first glance supposed to prevail. Doubtless, too, as a result of this process, there is greater coherency in our ideas. But is all this anything more than expanded metaphor? If it is something more, how can these mental changes "exemplify" a law of physics when ideas neither stick physically to each other nor gravitate to one another like the particles of the original, homogeneous, nebular mass? If mental and material phenomena can to some extent obey the same laws, and these laws are scientific inductions, there must be some resemblance between the phenomena.

That resemblance cannot be physical or spatial, because mental phenomena do not occupy space, or possess weight, or exist in three dimensions. As far as one can see, it consists in two points: both classes of phenomena (1) are objects of thought and (2) are displays of force or power. This implies that movements in space are displays of the same force as is manifested in the non-spatial movements of thought. The force which is displayed in consciousness as Will appears in space as motion. Both classes of phenomena, however, are not only displays of force, but also objects of thought. The realityof a phenomenon of either class consists in its being the manifestation of Will to or in consciousness. The reality of the two classes is co-extensive with their similarity, and is the sole foundation for any true inferences or justifiable generalisations about them.

If the law of "the instability of the homogeneous" is a first principle, and is a scientific induction based upon a real similarity between the mental and material phenomena of which it is offered as an explanation, it becomes interesting to inquire how far the similarity extends. In the case of mental evolution the essential feature of the process is that the mind gradually comes to perceive resemblances and to discriminate differences which, though they were present all the time, were not at first appreciable. In other words, the apparently homogeneous was, from the beginning, really heterogeneous. Now this fact, which is true in the sphere of mental evolution, finds its exact parallel in the evolution of the material universe, if the account given above of mechanical compounds and chemical combinations be true. What appears first in the process of evolution, and is exemplified by mechanics, is matter apparently inert. But when the particles of this apparently inert matter enter into chemical combinations with one another they reveal a fresh set of properties, quite different from those exhibited by them previous to their combination; and, whenthey enter into physiological relations, they display yet further additional properties. This progressive manifestation it is, and not the accompanying "dissipation of motion and integration of matter," which constitutes evolution in the material world, and finds its exact parallel in mental evolution. In both cases we have Will manifested as object of thought; and in both cases we judge most truly of that which is manifested when we judge it by its most complete manifestation. In both cases the apparent homogeneity is not the ultimate fact underlying everything, but is only the first-fruits of that which is yet to come.

FOOTNOTES:[8]First Principles, § 46.[9]Mill,Inductive Logic, bk. iii. ch. xii. p. 549.[10]Ibid.[11]First Principles, ch. iii. § 46.[12]Seth,Chambers's Encyclopædia,s.v."Philosophy."[13]Kirchoff,Vorlesungen über mathematische Physik, i. p. 1.[14]Mertz,History of European Thought in the Nineteenth Century, i. pp. 382, 3, note.[15]Lotze,Microcosmus, E. T., ii. p. 718.[16]Lotze,Microcosmus, E. T., ii. p. 718.[17]Mill,Inductive Logic, bk. iii. ch. vi.[18]Mill,Inductive Logic, bk. iii. ch. vi.[19]Claude Bernard, quoted inL'Année Sociologique, première année.[20]Principles of Biology, v. § 30.[21]Principles of Sociology, vol. i. part ii.[22]Ibid., § 260.[23]First Principles, § 127.[24]Ibid., § 153.

[8]First Principles, § 46.

[9]Mill,Inductive Logic, bk. iii. ch. xii. p. 549.

[10]Ibid.

[11]First Principles, ch. iii. § 46.

[12]Seth,Chambers's Encyclopædia,s.v."Philosophy."

[13]Kirchoff,Vorlesungen über mathematische Physik, i. p. 1.

[14]Mertz,History of European Thought in the Nineteenth Century, i. pp. 382, 3, note.

[15]Lotze,Microcosmus, E. T., ii. p. 718.

[16]Lotze,Microcosmus, E. T., ii. p. 718.

[17]Mill,Inductive Logic, bk. iii. ch. vi.

[18]Mill,Inductive Logic, bk. iii. ch. vi.

[19]Claude Bernard, quoted inL'Année Sociologique, première année.

[20]Principles of Biology, v. § 30.

[21]Principles of Sociology, vol. i. part ii.

[22]Ibid., § 260.

[23]First Principles, § 127.

[24]Ibid., § 153.

We have seen that if material things can alone be treated of by science, if things which can be seen and handled are alone amenable to the methods of science, then there can be no science of mind, and no scientific laws to regulate mental phenomena. In the same way, if the field of evolution is completely filled by the redistribution of matter and motion, then there is no room left in the theory of evolution in which to accommodate the history of ideas or of morals, there is no evolution of thought or morality, no continuity between higher and lower in the intellectual development of man and the brute.

We may admit that the methods of mental and moral science, of sociology and political economy, are not identical with those employed by physics or chemistry or astronomy. But we cannot admit that the facts which, if not the proper study of mankind, are at any rate of the greatest interest to man, are not subject to or part of the process of evolution, and cannot be reduced to scientificlaw and order. The methods of the philosophical sciences may not be the same as those of the exact sciences; but neither are the methods of chemistry those of astronomy—just as the instruments of the astronomer are not those of the chemist. The exactness which is attained by those sciences that can apply the methods of mathematics to their subject-matter cannot be rivalled by philology or psychology. But it is not to all the material sciences that the mathematical methods can be applied: meteorology deals with matter in motion, but not yet with exactitude. The intangible and invisible, but none the less real, facts of our mental and moral experience can be measured to some extent by the statistics and averages and curves employed by the sociologist, the demographer, and political economist: the intensity of a desire may be estimated roughly and relatively by the "effective demand" for its object, the will to live by the number of suicides.

Again, we may admit that the laws of the exact or material sciences do not extend to mental science, without thereby forfeiting the right to subject mental phenomena to scientific investigation and analysis. Chemistry does not cease to be a science because chemical affinity cannot be exhibited as a case of the gravitation formula. Need psychology renounce the claim to be a science because the laws of the association of ideas cannot be deduced, say, from the laws of motion?

Of course, if science has no other object than to describe with mathematical accuracy the exact way in which material things move, if no method is scientific which does not result in such a formula, and if no generalisation, however true, is scientific which does not formulate motion in space, then, indeed, it is unscientific to talk of the evolution of mind and thought, of man and of society.

On the other hand, the movements of material things in space are facts of which we are aware, phenomena of which we are aware through our senses; in a word, they are sense-phenomena. We are aware of them as existing simultaneously and in combination, or as succeeding one upon another; and no truth, even of the most mathematical and exact of the sciences, does, or can do, more than express with mathematical exactness the precise conditions under which these sense-phenomena co-exist or follow one another, or the precise conditions without which such co-existence or sequence cannot take place. A mathematical science dealing with material things states only and always that certain sense-phenomena occur invariably and uniformly under certain conditions. The exact sciences move within the limits of the Uniformity of Nature and the law of Universal Causation; and their subject-matter consists of sense-phenomena,i.e.of things which, as known to science, are objects of perception to some mind.

But sense-phenomena are not the only mental phenomena of which we are aware: there are ideas which we do not see or handle, or smell or taste, but of which we are nevertheless distinctly conscious. Thought has its movement, ideas have their co-existence and sequences, the association of ideas has its laws. There is a uniformity of human nature as well as of external nature; there are conditions under which certain actions are always performed, and without which they would never be done. Whether the body of propositions in which these conditions are formulated be accorded or denied the name of science, matters little. But it is difficult to see what are the so great differences between these phenomena and sense-phenomena that make the latter amenable and the former insusceptible to scientific treatment. Is it that ideas are invisible? So is weight, yet the gravitation formula is scientific. Is it that thought is impalpable? So is colour, so is sound—yet there are optics and acoustics.

Be this as it may, what makes things material susceptible to scientific treatment is a quality which is not peculiar to them, but which is shared by them in common with things immaterial: it is that they are objects of which the mind is immediately aware, phenomena present to some consciousness, and that they are phenomena which appear in consciousness as co-existent and successive in certain definite uniform modes which can be detected bythought and formulated in general propositions, or laws.

If the theory of evolution comprehends all things, mind and morals as well as matter and motion; if the law of continuity connects all things together, immaterial as well as material, in a process which moves without break or interruption; it is because all things agree in the fact that they are presented (whether in sense or in idea) to the mind, and because they are presented in the continuity of consciousness.

But the object of the scientific mind is not to observe and record all the phenomena presented to it in the continuity of consciousness. On the contrary, it neglects and rejects many; but always with a purpose, viz. that of ascertaining and describing, as precisely as possible, the conditions under which a given co-existence or sequence occurs (and therefore may be expected to recur) and without which it fails to occur. In other words, science assumes that everything has a cause, and that in accordance with the uniformity of nature what has happened once will happen again in the same circumstances; that a cause will, in the absence of counteracting causes, produce its effect. Without these assumptions science cannot treat of any subject: no department of knowledge can be dealt with scientifically if these assumptions are not admitted with regard to that department. On the other hand, if by theaid of these assumptions we are enabled to reduce any set of phenomena to law and order, our success is of itself sufficient ground for regarding the assumptions as warrantable and justifiable. For science, at any rate, the only question is whether as a matter of fact they do enable us to determine under what conditions given co-existences or sequences will ensue, or what conditions such a co-existence or sequence necessarily implies.

With regard to human activity, mental and physical, it is plain matter of fact that such uniformities of sequence and co-existence not only can be but are demonstrated to prevail; and the extension of the scientific principle of cause and effect to the domain of human will and action is scientifically justified. The comparative sciences which deal with man and his works and words—archæology, anthropology, philology—are perpetually engaged in demonstrating, with fresh proofs every day, the uniformity of human nature: in similar circumstances men have always behaved in similar ways. To satisfy the same needs, they have manufactured similar instruments at similar stages of development: flint arrow-heads from Mexico or Japan resemble those taken from British barrows; the pottery of early Greece is hard to distinguish from that of Peru; the purpose of many stone implements of unknown antiquity has been discovered by a comparison of the use to whichsimilar tools are put by savages still existing. That man's words, as well as his works, exhibit law, order, and uniformity in their growth, as well as in their phonetic decay, is shown by the science of comparative philology. That in the face of the same problems similar analogies have been used to produce similar solutions, is revealed by comparative mythology: the imagination, which might have seemed most free to throw off the trammels of law and of monotonous uniformity, falls in similar circumstances into very similar grooves.

If the will of man is not revealed in the things which he makes, in the words which he speaks, and the thoughts which he thinks, it is difficult to know where to look for its manifestation. If, on the other hand, it is manifested in these ways, then, whether it be free or not, it is clearly uniform in its action; and the extension to it of the law of causation seems fully justified by the results.

The recognition of the universality of the law of causation must not, however, be supposed to carry with it any implication that there are no differences between, say, the organic and inorganic, or that the laws of the one are identical with or deducible from those of the other; the association of ideas may be a scientific and established fact, and yet not obey the same laws as the adhesiveness of material substances. What unites all things into a continuous, coherent, and systematic cosmos, into a scientificwhole, is first the fact that, whether phenomena in sense or phenomena in idea, they are all objects of thought; and next the fact that they all exhibit the universality of causation and the uniformity of nature.

Whether this uniformity which binds man and nature into one consistent whole is a uniformity of will or a uniformity of necessity, is quite another question. It is a metaphysical and not a scientific inquiry; and the metaphysical answer, whatever it may be, is one for which science does not and need not pause. So long as nature is granted to be uniform, it matters not to science whether the uniformity is of necessity or is freely willed. In either case the sequences or co-existences described by science will continue, under the circumstances described, to happen as described.

It is, however, commonly assumed that actions which are uniform are, by their very uniformity, proved to be necessitated; and that unless what happens was bound to happen, there can be no uniformity and no science. Hence on the one hand the recognition of the freedom of the will has been denounced as fatal to all scientific conceptions of human nature; while on the other hand the uniformity of human nature and action has been denied as being inconsistent with the freedom of the will. The one side has pointed to one set of facts, which prove irresistibly that men do will the samething under the same circumstances. The other side has pointed to the equally undeniable fact of our consciousness of freedom.

The essential feature in our consciousness of freedom is our conviction that in the present we can do or abstain from doing a contemplated action, and in the past, though we did the thing, we might have abstained from it or have done something else. Now, whether this possibility that what took place might not have taken place is a real one or only a delusion, matters not to science. If real and true, it is indeed fatal to one particular metaphysical theory, viz. that every event which ever occurred was bound to occur and could not have happened otherwise; but it leaves every truth of science, every one of those concise descriptions of what takes place under given circumstances, absolutely intact. The freedom of the will is anathematised in the name but not in the interests of science.

That becomes clear when we reflect that the laws of science are, and do not pretend to be more than, hypothetical statements. The gravitation formula does not state that bodies do as a matter of fact actually fall at the rate of sixteen feet in the first second, and so on. The statement, if made, would be untrue: a feather floats much more slowly to the ground. Still less does the formula affirm that all bodies move towards each other—and for a very good reason: many bodies are at rest. The formulamakes no definite statement as to what actually does occur: it merely states what would or will happen under certain circumstances; and it is doubly or trebly hypothetical. First, it asserts conditionally that if, and only if, bodies are free to move, they will tend to move towards each other at the rate of sixteen feet in the first second, and so on. Next, even if this condition be fulfilled in a particular case, and a given body is free to move, say, towards the earth, the law of gravitation does not assert that the body will absolutely, or unconditionally, or of necessity fall sixteen feet in the first second: it only affirms that the body tends to move at that rate, and the word "tends" conveys in its meaning a second hypothesis. What is meant by saying that a body tends to fall, or tends to move in a straight line, is simply that the body will fall or move in the direction or at the rate mentioned, provided that nothing happens to prevent it. The law of gravitation then, like every other law of science, from the very terms in which it is stated, contains two hypotheses:ifbodies are free to move, then theytendto move at a certain rate. Further, like every other law of science, it is based on a third hypothesis, which, as it is assumed by all scientific laws, is not expressly referred to by any. That third hypothesis is that nature is uniform: if a body is free to move it will, in the future as in the past, tend to move at a certain rate, provided that nature is uniform.

Now, throughout all this, it is obvious that science knows nothing about "necessity." Indeed, it is obvious that science, by the trebly hypothetical form of all its laws, has taken particular pains to avoid prejudging the question whether what happens was bound to happen. As we have already said, science takes care to frame its statements in such a way that they are quite independent of metaphysical theory, and will remain as true within their limits if the theory of necessity prove erroneous as they will if it turns out to be correct.

Nor can it be said, thus far, that the laws of science lead us to the theory of necessity as their logical conclusion. It may be true that if I walk over a precipice I shall fall to the bottom, in accordance with the law of gravitation. But it does not logically follow that therefore I must walk over. It may be true that a suspension bridge will fall in the same way, if the supports be removed; but it does not follow that they are therefore bound to give way. It may be true that if nature is uniform certain sequences will happen; but it does not therefore follow that nature must be uniform. In other words, the theory of necessity, if true, cannot be based on science, but must rely on some metaphysical considerations. Science does not undertake to prove even that nature is uniform, much less that it is uniform of necessity. The opposite theory, that the uniformity of nature or of human nature is due tothe action of a will freely manifesting itself as uniform, may be considered superfluous from the scientific point of view. But the theory of necessity from the same point of view is equally superfluous. As long as events do happen uniformly, science has all she wants—whether their uniformity is of will or of necessity is for her quite a superfluous question. And if science were all that man wanted, these rival metaphysical theories would be of no interest to him either. But the persistency of the attempt to extract some support for the metaphysical theory of necessity out of the facts of science shows that men of science, being men, must have their metaphysics.

Are there, then, other facts of science, or assumptions essential to science, which require the metaphysical theory of necessity as their presupposition or entail it as their natural consequence? Probably the reply will be that there is one such principle: that of the Universality of the Law of Causation. The assumption that everythingmusthave a cause may be on the part of science a pure assumption, and one which, like the Uniformity of Nature, cannot be proved by science; but it does, it may be said, assume the existence of a necessity in things.

It does, it may be replied, but whether the necessity which science assumes is the same as that maintained by the metaphysical theory in question, may be doubted. The metaphysical theory is thateverything which happens happens of necessity, and could not have happened otherwise than it did. The assumptions which science makes with regard to causation are that nothing can happen unless the conditions requisite to its production are fulfilled, and that when those conditions are present the result necessarily follows. The question is whether this scientific necessity is the same as that metaphysical necessity; or, if they are not the same, whether either is a logical consequence from the other.

They are not the same: the scientific assumption is hypothetical, the metaphysical absolute. The former says that things will happen in one way, if certain conditions are fulfilled, in another if they are not; the latter that they absolutely must happen in this way, and not in that; and that it is an illusion to imagine that they can happeneitherthis wayorthat. Science allows us the alternative; the metaphysical theory declares that the alternative is an impossibility or an illusion. The metaphysical theory may be right, but it is not the same thing as the scientific assumption. Neither can it be exhibited as a logical presupposition of or consequence from the scientific assumption. From a hypothetical "if" you cannot logically get an absolute "must." It may be a scientific truth that, if an electric spark is passed through two atoms of hydrogen and one of oxygen, a drop of water willbe formed. But it does not follow that therefore an electric spark must be passed through them.

It is obvious that the difference between science and metaphysics in the matter of necessity is that, whereas science cautiously says, "If certain conditions are fulfilled, certain results will ensue," metaphysics boldly says, "The conditions on which the whole future depends are already absolutely fixed." Once more, this metaphysical theory may be true; but, if so, it is not from science that it derives its truth. The transition from the "if" of science to the "must" of metaphysics is illogical, though not unnatural, and is facilitated by a certain amount of obscurity, which can be thrown over it by drawing illustrations from the past. Thus, if an event has already taken place, we may infer with certainty from the fact of its occurrence that the conditions necessary to produce it were realised. And as each of those conditions must have had a cause, we can infer again that the conditions requisite to produce them were fulfilled. And so we may travel backad infinitumalong a never-ending chain of cause and effect, always moving from one fixed and necessitated event to another event equally necessitated and fixed. Thus the whole past history of the universe may be exhibited as a necessary sequence of events; and the inference may be drawn, and for the purposes of the theory of metaphysical necessity must be drawn, thatbecause the occurrence of an event proves that the conditions required for its production were realised, therefore they and they alone were bound to be realised. Yet this is simply our old familiarnon sequiturthrown into the past tense. It is true that if I walk over a precipice I shall fall, according to the law of gravitation. But I am not therefore bound to walk over. It is true that the man who fell over the cliff obeyed the law of gravity. But we cannot infer either from the law of gravitation or from the fact of his falling that he was bound to fall. We can infer that the conditions requisite to produce the fall were present, but we cannot infer from the fall that they were bound to be present. It may be quite true that they were bound to be present, but the effect which followed on them cannot be alleged either as the cause or the proof of such necessity. We must look for the reason of the necessity—if there be any necessity in the case—elsewhere. Shall we, then, say that the conditions of the fall were themselves effects of prior causes, without which they would not have happened? That again is true, but the fact that Z would not have happened had not Y preceded, is not in itself any proof that Y was bound to happen. And so we may travel backad infinitumalong the never-ending chain of cause and effect without ever finding ourselves in a position to infer from the law that everything must have a cause,that this cause was bound to operate rather than that. The occurrence of Z is no proof that Y was bound to happen, nor is the fact that Y really happened any proof that its cause X was bound to occur—and so we may work back to the beginning of the alphabet. The fact that B took place shows that A actually occurred, but not that A, rather than A1or A2, was bound to occur. And if A is the beginning, what was the nature of the necessity (prior to the beginning of things) which determined in favour of A rather than A1or A2?

We may indeed say, if we like—since no one can prevent us from saying things without proof or probability—that the mere fact that A happened shows that it was bound to happen. But then we might just as well have said it of Z, and saved ourselves the trouble of going through so much alphabet to get so little result. We might just as well say that as the explosion or the accidentdidhappen as a matter of fact, it could not possibly have been prevented: Z was bound to happen under the circumstances, therefore the circumstances could not have been altered; only one result was possible under the conditions, therefore no other conditions were possible.

Or—to go back to the beginning of the alphabet once more—we may say with science that we are content with the fact that A did happen, or, since science does not profess to take us back to anabsolute beginning (force and matter being eternal and without beginning), let us say we may, like science, be content with the fact that K can be shown to have happened; but whether K, rather than K1or K2, was bound to occur there is nothing in science to show. If we take up this, the scientific, attitude, two consequences follow. First, there is nothing in science to require or countenance the metaphysical theory of necessity. Next, what is true of K is equally true of L or M or Z. The fact that L or M or Z occurred proves that the conditions did combine in the way necessary to produce L or M or Z, not that they were bound to combine in that way and could not have combined so as to produce L1or L2, or Z1or Z2or Z3.

Perhaps it may be said that the following is the proper way of stating the case: We have reason for believing that, as a matter of scientific necessity, if L is at work it can only produce M, and not M1or M2(the application of a light to a barrel of gunpowder can have only one result). But L was at work, therefore M alone could result. Quite true, but that does not show that the light was bound to be applied, or that the powder might not have been damp. In fine, the moment the conditions requisite for the explosion are combined, the explosion is necessary, M is the only possible result; but until then the explosion is not necessary, and the result may be M1, or M2, or M3. A cause (i.e.the conditions combined)can only have one effect; but until it has that effect it is not the cause, and may never be. Pre-existent causes, which must inevitably produce predetermined effects, are figments of the metaphysical imagination. Conditions which may, and, subject to the trebly hypothetical laws of science, will combine in certain ways are scientific facts.

In fine, the Uniformity of Nature, in the sense in which Nature is assumed, both by science and by common sense, to be uniform, simply amounts to the assumption that under the same conditions the same consequences will ensue. But this uniformity neither requires nor entails necessity. The very form chosen by science for the expression of scientific laws proclaims the fact: "Ifbodies are free to move," "ifcounteracting causes be absent," "a bodytendsto move in the same straight line." Whatever necessity is introduced into the truths of science thus expressed is obviously imported from without, and is no part of science. We may, if we choose, read necessity into science, but there is no warrant in science for doing so. Science is absolutely without prejudice on this point. If everything that happens happens of necessity, the gravitation formula will receive no accession to its truth. If there be no necessity in the case, each and every truth of science remains valid as long as the same consequences do ensue in the same circumstances.

Since, then, science observes an armed neutrality in this dispute, and is concerned only to guard that assumption of the uniformity of nature which is vital to her existence, we must turn elsewhere for a decision of the question.

We began this chapter with an expression of our full adhesion to the view which insists upon the uniformity, not merely of nature, but also of human nature. We rejected the idea that there is no science of man, and has been no evolution of mind, as a patent absurdity, and a violent contradiction of admitted facts. Any theory of evolution and any definition of science which fails to comprehend human nature is thereby condemned as inadequate and inaccurate. For those, then, who with us accept the continuity and uniformity between nature and man there will be no difficulty in arguing from the one to the other: which of the two we shall start from will depend mainly upon circumstances, upon which is the more accessible in any particular inquiry, and which is likely to afford the best "take-off." In the present case the action of inanimate objects upon one another can be accounted for on either hypothesis,i.e.that such action is willed by some superior power or that it is necessitated by some previous action, which is necessitated by some other previous action, and so on for ever, without ever reaching any original or originating necessity. Both hypotheses will fit all the facts of all the physicalsciences; botharehypotheses; and science can do and does do without either one or the other. Nor does our observation of the observed facts of nature enable us to say, with regard to any actual fact of this kind, either that it could or that it could not have happened otherwise than it did. In fine, as long as we confine ourselves to the subject-matter of the physical sciences, as long as we start in this case from nature, we cannot find anything to disturb the equal balance of the two hypotheses, which are two hypotheses and nothing more. But when we turn from nature to human nature, when we consult our own experience of our own actions, the case is notoriously different. Our experience in that case is that of two or more suggested and possible actions we are free to choose whichever we will; and our memory of past acts of choice testifies that though we actually chose one particular course, we might have abstained from it in favour of some other alternative. Here, too, as in the case of purely physical causation, the fact that a thing happened is proof conclusive that, in accordance with the law of universal causation, the conditions necessary to its occurrence were fulfilled; but it constitutes no proof or probability that the conditions were bound to be fulfilled. The fact that we chose to act in a certain way does not in the least convince us that we were bound to choose that action and that action alone. On the contrary, our memory is clearand our conviction is certain that our choice was free. In the physical and the spiritual spheres alike it is true that, when all the conditions requisite for a given effect are combined, the result must ensue. And in both spheres it is equally true that until the conditions are effectively combined no such necessity exists. In the case of our own actions we are directly and immediately conscious of the fact that it is our own will which effects this combination. For us, therefore, who hold, with Professor Huxley, that the uniformity and continuity of nature with human nature is essential to any rational and scientific view of the universe and to every comprehensive theory of evolution, it is natural to interpret physical by spiritual causation. We know from direct and personal experience of certain cases of causation that, though a particular effect necessarily ensued from a certain combination of conditions, the conditions might have been combined differently and with a different result. There is, therefore, nothing unreasonable in the inference that with regard to the events in nature the conditions which produced them might have combined differently and with different results; and that the determining factor was a will (not our own) conscious of its own freedom.

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