Shelburne Essays

A draught of dull complacency.

Alas, those who would find a resting-place for the spirit in the relations of man to man seem not to reckon that the very essence—if such a term may be used of so contingent a nature—that the very essence of this world's life is motion and change and contention, and that Peace spreads her wings in another and purer atmosphere. One might suppose that a single glance into the heart would show how vain are such aspirations, and how utterly dreary and illusory is every conceived ideal of progress and socialism because each and all are based on an inherent contradiction. He who waits for peace until the course of events has become stable is like the sillypeasant by the river side, watching and waiting while the current flows forever and will ever flow.

Not less vain is the hope of those who would find in the laws of science a permanent abiding place—perhaps one should say was rather than is, for the avowed gospel of science which was to usurp the office of olden-time religious faith is already like the precedent historic sense, itself becoming a thing of the past. Yet the much discussed war between science and religion is none the less real because to-day the din of battle has ceased. It does not depend on criticism of the Mosaic story of creation by the one, nor on hostility to progress offered by the other. These things were only signs of a deeper and more radical difference: religion is the voice of faith uttering in symbols of the imagination its distrust of the world as a scene of deception and unreality, whereas science is the attempt to discover fixed laws in the midst of this very world of change. If to-day the strife between the two seems reconciled, this only means that faith has grown dimmer and that science has learned the futility of its more dogmatic assumptions.[10]

The very growth of science is in fact a gradual recognition of motion as the basis of phenomena and an increasing comprehension of what may be called the laws of motion. When motion was regarded as simple and regular, it seemed possible to explain phenomena by correspondingly simple and regular laws; but when each primary motionwas seen to be the resultant of an infinite series of motions the question became in like manner infinitely complex, or in other words insoluble. But to be clear we must consider the matter more in detail.

From the days of the old Greek Heraclitus, who built up his theory of the world on the axiom of eternal flux and change, the Doctrine of Motion as a distinct enunciation has lingered on in the world well-nigh unnoticed and buried from sight in the bulk of suppositions and guesses that have made up the passing systems of philosophy. Now and then some lonely thinker took up the doctrine, but only to let it drop back into obscurity; until during the great burst of scientific enquiry in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries it assumed new significance and began to grow. From that time to this its progress in acceptance as the basis of phenomena may be regarded as a measure of scientific advance.

By a strange fatality Kant, who had been so efficient as an iconoclast in metaphysics, was perhaps with his nebular hypothesis, followed later by the work of Goethe on animal and plant variations, the one most largely responsible for the new hope that in science at last was to be found an answer to the riddle of existence which had baffled the search of pure reason. The achievement of Kant both destructive and constructive is well known, if vaguely understood, by the world at large; but it is not so well known that a contemporary of Kant did precisely for science what the sage of Königsberg accomplished in metaphysics. In the very decade in whichThe Critique of Pure Reasonsaw the light, Lagrange, a scholar of France, published a work which carried the analytic method, or the method of motion, to its farthest limit. In this work, theMécanique Analytique, Lagrange develops an equation from which it can be proved conclusively that to explain any group of phenomena measured by energy an infinite number of hypotheses may be employed. So, for instance, if we establish any one theory which will sufficiently account for the known phenomena of light, such as reflection, refraction, polarisation, etc., there will yet remain an infinite number of other hypotheses equally capable of explaining the same group of phenomena. Or to use the words of Poincaré: "If then we can give one complete mechanical explanation of a phenomenon, there will also be possible an infinite number of others which will account equally well for all the particulars revealed by experiment." That is to say, noexperimentum cruciscan be imagined which will reveal the truth or error of any given theory. This restriction on the finality of our knowledge is borne out in all physical reasoning,—and I venture also to say in the other sciences; thus in optics we can perform no experiment which will establish as finally true the theory that light is caused by the motion of corpuscles of matteremitted from a luminous body, or that it is due to vibrations propagated through a medium by a wave motion, or that it is generated by certain disturbances in the electrical state of bodies. Each of these hypotheses has its advantages and disadvantages; and in our choice we merely adopt that theory which explains the greater number of phenomena in the simplest way.

If any one should here ask: Granted that from phenomena expressed in terms of energy no ultimate law can be educed, yet may not some other view of phenomena lead to other results? We answer that no other view is possible. Not that the system of the universe, if we may use such an expression, is necessarily constructed on what we call energy, but that our minds can conceive it only in terms of energy. An analysis of the concepts which enter into the idea of energy must make it evident that in our understanding of nature we cannot go beyond this point.

There is an agreement among philosophers and scientists that the concept of space is not derived from external experience, but is inherently intuitive. As stated by Kant:

The representation of space cannot be borrowed through experience from relations of external phenomena, but, on the contrary, those external phenomena become possible only by means of the representation of space. Space is a necessary representation,a priori, forming the very foundation of external intuitions. It is impossible to imagine that there should be no space, though it is possible to imagine space without objects to fill it.

The concept of space therefore makes possible the intuition of external phenomena; but these phenomena to be realised must appeal to one of our senses, and this connecting link between the outer world and our consciousness is the concept which we call time. Quoting again from Kant:

Time is the formal condition,a priori, of all phenomena whatsoever. But, as all representations, whether they have for their objects external things or not, belong by themselves, as determinations of the mind, to our inner state;... therefore, if I am able to say,a priori, that all external phenomena are in space, I can, according to the principle of the internal sense, make the general assertion that all phenomena, that is, all objects of the senses, arein time, and stand necessarily in relations of time.

It follows, then, that our simplest possible expression for phenomena will be in terms of space and time, and that beyond this the human mind cannot go.

Turning here from metaphysical to scientific language, we speak of space and time as the fundamental units from which we deduce the laws of the external world. The fact that space appeals to us only through time furnishes us with our concept or unit of motion, which is the ratio of space to time. The external phenomena so revealed to us we call the manifestations of mass or energy, thus providing ourselves with a second unit. It must be observed, however, that mass or energy is not a new concept, but bears precisely the same relation to motion as Kant'sDing-an-sichbears to space and time: it is the unknowable cause of motion—or more properly speaking it is the ability residing in an object to change the motion of another object and is measured by the degree of change it can produce. And I say mass or energy, advisedly, for the two are merely different names or different views of the same thing; we cannot conceive of matter without energy or of energy without matter. Our choice between the two depends solely on the simplicity and convenience with which deductions may be made from one or the other. From a physical standpoint the concept energy is rather the simpler, but mathematically our deductions flow more readily from the concept mass.

If then our explanations of phenomena must ultimately involve the two units of motion and of energy or mass, and if it can be demonstrated that on this basis we may account for any group of phenomena in an infinite number of ways, what shall we say but that the attempt to attain any resting-place for the mind in the laws of nature is, and must always be, futile? Further than this, any given law is itself only an approximate explanation of phenomena, and must be continually modified as we add to our experimental knowledge. In all cases a law must be considered valid only within the limits of the sensitiveness of the instruments by which we get our measurements. With more delicate instruments variations will be observed that must be expressed by additionalterms in the formula. Thus we maintain that the law of gravitation is true only within the range of our observation; it does not apply to masses of molecular dimensions. Another formula, the well-known law of the pressure of gases, can be shown by experiment to be merely an approximation, because the variations in it are not of a dimension negligible in comparison with the sensibility of our instruments. As the pressure increases the error in the formular equation becomes constantly greater. To remedy this a second approximation, which is still inadequate, has been added to the equation by Van der Waals; yet greater accuracy will require the addition of other terms; and a complete demonstration would demand an infinite series of approximations.

The meaning of all this is quite plain: there is no reach of the human intellect which can bridge the gap between motion and rest. Our senses are adapted to a world of universal flux which is, so far as we can determine, subject to no absolute law but the law of probabilities. He who attempts to circumscribe the ebb and flow of circumstance within the bounds of our spiritual needs, he who attempts to find peace in any formula of science or in any promise of historic progress, is like one who labours on the old and vain problem of squaring the circle:

Qual è'l geomètra, che tutto s'affigePer misurar lo cerchio, e non ritrova,Pensando, quel principio ond' egli indige.

The desire of peace, as the world has known it in past times, signified always a turning away from the flotsam and jetsam of time and an attempt to fix the mind on absolute rest and unity,—the desire of peace has been the aspiration of faith. And because the object of faith cannot be seen by the eyes of the body or expressed in terms of the understanding, a firm grasp of the will has been necessary to keep the desire of the heart from falling back into the visible, tangible things of change and motion. For this reason, when the will is relaxed, doubts spring up and men give themselves wholly to the transient intoxication of the senses. Yet blessed are they that believe and have not seen. It was the peculiar quest of the nineteenth century to discover fixed laws and an unshaken abiding place for the mind in the very kingdom of unrest; we have sought to chain the waves of the sea with the winds.

And how does all this affect one who stands apart, striving in his own small way to live in the serene contemplation of the universe? I cannot doubt that there are some in the world to-day who look back over the long past and watch the toiling of the human race toward peace as a traveller in the Alps may with a telescope follow the mountain-climbers in their slow ascent through the snows of Mont Blanc; or again they watch our labours and painstaking in the valley of the senses and wonder at our grotesque industry; or look upon the striving of men to build a city for thesoul amid the uncertainties of this life, as men look at the play of children who build castles and domes in the sands of the seashore and cry out when the advancing waves wash all their hopes away. I think there are some such men in the world to-day who are absorbed in the fellowship of the wise men of the East, and of the no less wise Plato, with whom they would retort upon the accusing advocates of the present: "Do you think that a spirit full of lofty thoughts, and privileged to contemplate all time and all existence, can possibly attach any great importance to this life?" They live in the world of action, but are not of it. They pass each other at rare intervals on the thoroughfares of life and know each other by a secret sign, and smile to each other and go on their way comforted and in better hope.

[1]The Correspondence of William Cowper.Arranged in chronological order, with annotations, by Thomas Wright, Principal of Cowper School, Olney. Four volumes. New York: Dodd, Mead, & Co., 1904.

[2]In a newly published volume of the letters of William Bodham Donne (the friend of Edward FitzGerald and Bernard Barton), the editor, Catharine B. Johnson, throws doubt on this supposed descent of Cowper's mother from the Poet Dean.

[3]How refreshing is that whiff of good honest smoke in the abstemious lives of Cowper and John Newton! I have just seen, in W. Tuckwell'sReminiscences of a Radical Parson, a happy allusion to William Bull's pipes: "To Olney, under the auspices of a benevolent Quaker.... I saw all the relics: the parlour where bewitching Lady Austen's shuttlecock flew to and fro; the hole made in the wall for the entrance and exit of the hares; the poet's bedroom; Mrs. Unwin's room, where, as she knelt by the bed in prayer, her clothes caught fire. The garden was in other hands, but I obtained leave to enter it. Of course, I went straight to the summer-house, small, and with not much glass, the wall and ceiling covered with names, Cowper's wig-block on the table,a hole in the floor where that mellow divine, the Reverend Mr. Bull, kept his pipes; outside, the bed of pinks celebrated affectionately in one of his letters to Joseph Hill, pipings from which are still growing in my garden."—The date of the Rev. Mr. Tuckwell's visit to Olney is not indicated, but hisReminiscenceswere published in the present year, 1905.

[4]Charles Augustin Sainte-Beuve was born at Boulogne-sur-Mer, December 23, 1804, and died at Paris, October 13, 1869.

[5]The Poems of Algernon Charles Swinburne.In six volumes. New York: Harper & Brothers. 1904.

[6]The Poetical Works of Christina Georgina Rossetti.With Memoir and Notes, etc. By William Michael Rossetti. New York: The Macmillan Co., 1904.

[7]Robert Browning.By C. H. Herford. New York: Dodd, Mead & Co., 1905.

[8]The Complete Works of Laurence Sterne.Edited by Wilbur L. Cross. Supplemented with the Life by Percy Fitzgerald. 12 volumes. New York: J. F. Taylor & Co. 1904.

[9]Life, Letters, and Literary Remains of J. H. Shorthouse.Edited by his wife. In two volumes. New York: The Macmillan Co., 1905.

[10]Yet even while I read the proof of this page there lies before me an article in theContemporary Review(July, 1905), in which Sir Oliver Lodge utters the old assumptions of science with childlike simplicity. "I want to urge," he says, "that my advocacy of science and scientific training is not really due to any wish to be able to travel faster or shout further round the earth, or to construct more extensive towns, or to consume more atmosphere and absorb more rivers, nor even to overcome disease, prolong human life, grow more corn, and cultivate to better advantage the kindly surface of the earth; though all these latter things will be 'added unto us' if we persevere in high aims. But it is none of these things which should be held out as the ultimate object and aim of humanity—the gain derivable from a genuine pursuit of truth of every kind; no, the ultimate aim can be expressed in many ways, but I claim that it is no less than to be able to comprehend what is the length and breadth and depth and height of this mighty universe, including man as part of it, and to know not man and nature alone, but to attain also some incipient comprehension of what the saints speak of as the love of God which passeth knowledge, and so to begin an entrance into the fulness of an existence beside which the joy even of a perfect earthly life is but as the happiness of a summer's day." The sentiment is beautiful, but what shall we say of the logic? To speak of attaining throughsciencea comprehension, even an incipient comprehension, of that which passethknowledge, is to fall into that curious confusion of ideas to which the scientifically trained mind is subject when it goes beyond its own field. "Gird up now thy loins like a man; for I will demand of thee, and answer thou me. Where wast thou when I laid the foundations of the earth? Declare, if thou hast understanding." Has Sir Oliver read the Book of Job?

Shelburne EssaysBy Paul Elmer More3 vols. Crown octavo.Sold separately.Net, $1.25.(By mail, $1.35)ContentsFirst Series: A Hermit's Notes on Thoreau—The Solitude of Nathaniel Hawthorne—The Origins of Hawthorne and Poe—The Influence of Emerson—The Spirit of Carlyle—The Science of English Verse—Arthur Symonds: The Two Illusions—The Epic of Ireland—Two Poets of the Irish Movement—Tolstoy; or, The Ancient Feud between Philosophy and Art—The Religious Ground of Humanitarianism.Second Series: Elizabethan Sonnets—Shakespeare's Sonnets—Lafcadio Hearn—The First Complete Edition of Hazlitt—Charles Lamb—Kipling and FitzGerald—George Crabbe—The Novels of George Meredith—Hawthorne: Looking before and after—Delphi and Greek Literature—Nemesis; or, The Divine Envy.Third Series: The Correspondence of William Cowper—Whittier the Poet—The Centenary of Sainte-Beuve—The Scotch Novels and Scotch History—Swinburne—Christina Rossetti—Why is Browning Popular?—A Note on Byron's "Don Juan"—Laurence Sterne—J. Henry Shorthouse—The Quest.G. P. Putnam's SonsNew YorkLondon

3 vols. Crown octavo.

Sold separately.Net, $1.25.(By mail, $1.35)

First Series: A Hermit's Notes on Thoreau—The Solitude of Nathaniel Hawthorne—The Origins of Hawthorne and Poe—The Influence of Emerson—The Spirit of Carlyle—The Science of English Verse—Arthur Symonds: The Two Illusions—The Epic of Ireland—Two Poets of the Irish Movement—Tolstoy; or, The Ancient Feud between Philosophy and Art—The Religious Ground of Humanitarianism.

Second Series: Elizabethan Sonnets—Shakespeare's Sonnets—Lafcadio Hearn—The First Complete Edition of Hazlitt—Charles Lamb—Kipling and FitzGerald—George Crabbe—The Novels of George Meredith—Hawthorne: Looking before and after—Delphi and Greek Literature—Nemesis; or, The Divine Envy.

Third Series: The Correspondence of William Cowper—Whittier the Poet—The Centenary of Sainte-Beuve—The Scotch Novels and Scotch History—Swinburne—Christina Rossetti—Why is Browning Popular?—A Note on Byron's "Don Juan"—Laurence Sterne—J. Henry Shorthouse—The Quest.

G. P. Putnam's SonsNew YorkLondon

A Few Press Criticisms onShelburne Essays"It is a pleasure to hail in Mr. More a genuine critic, for genuine critics in America in these days are uncommonly scarce.... We recommend, as a sample of his breadth, style, acumen, and power the essay on Tolstoy in the present volume. That represents criticism that has not merely a metropolitan but a world note.... One is thoroughly grateful to Mr. More for the high quality of his thought, his serious purpose, and his excellent style."—Harvard Graduates' Magazine."We do not know of any one now writing who gives evidence of a better critical equipment than Mr. More. It is rare nowadays to find a writer so thoroughly familiar with both ancient and modern thought. It is this width of view, this intimate acquaintance with so much of the best that has been thought and said in the world, irrespective of local prejudice, that constitute Mr. More's strength as a critic. He has been able to form for himself a sound literary canon and a sane philosophy of life which constitute to our mind his peculiar merit as a critic."—Independent."He is familiar with classical, Oriental, and English literature; he uses a temperate, lucid, weighty, and not ungraceful style; he is aware of his best predecessors, and is apparently on the way to a set of philosophic principles which should lead him to a high and perhaps influential place in criticism.... We believe that we are in the presence of a critic who must be counted among the first who take literature and life for their theme."—London Speaker.G. P. Putnam's SonsNew YorkLondon

"It is a pleasure to hail in Mr. More a genuine critic, for genuine critics in America in these days are uncommonly scarce.... We recommend, as a sample of his breadth, style, acumen, and power the essay on Tolstoy in the present volume. That represents criticism that has not merely a metropolitan but a world note.... One is thoroughly grateful to Mr. More for the high quality of his thought, his serious purpose, and his excellent style."—Harvard Graduates' Magazine.

"We do not know of any one now writing who gives evidence of a better critical equipment than Mr. More. It is rare nowadays to find a writer so thoroughly familiar with both ancient and modern thought. It is this width of view, this intimate acquaintance with so much of the best that has been thought and said in the world, irrespective of local prejudice, that constitute Mr. More's strength as a critic. He has been able to form for himself a sound literary canon and a sane philosophy of life which constitute to our mind his peculiar merit as a critic."—Independent.

"He is familiar with classical, Oriental, and English literature; he uses a temperate, lucid, weighty, and not ungraceful style; he is aware of his best predecessors, and is apparently on the way to a set of philosophic principles which should lead him to a high and perhaps influential place in criticism.... We believe that we are in the presence of a critic who must be counted among the first who take literature and life for their theme."—London Speaker.

G. P. Putnam's SonsNew YorkLondon

The Jessica LettersAn Editor's RomanceBy Paul E. MoreandMrs. Lundy Howard HarrisCrown octavo.Net, $1.10.(By mail, $1.25.)The correspondence between a young New York Editor and a young Southern woman. The book is above all a love story. The letters are full of wit and refreshing frankness. The situations are delightfully romantic, and the work contains some of the prettiest love-making that has appeared for years."It is altogether a charming book. Beautifully printed, bound in a dainty apple-blossom cover, and written in a clean-cut, forceful style. Jessica's letters are bright, witty, and delicately poetic. They introduce to the reader a mind of rare charm, originality, and independence."—Rev.Thomas Dixon, Jr."There can be but praise for the delicate literary quality revealed on every page of this story. It is indeed refreshing to find a love story so charmingly told as this."—Newark News."A love story told in letters, letters which show how simple it is to find even under the very nose of the blue pencil both love and high thinking."—N. Y. Times."It is delicate, sincere, and earnest.... A wholesomeness and sweetness permeates all the book."—Chicago Tribune."A delightfully romantic love story."—The Outlook.G. P. Putnam's SonsNew YorkLondon

By Paul E. MoreandMrs. Lundy Howard Harris

Crown octavo.Net, $1.10.(By mail, $1.25.)

The correspondence between a young New York Editor and a young Southern woman. The book is above all a love story. The letters are full of wit and refreshing frankness. The situations are delightfully romantic, and the work contains some of the prettiest love-making that has appeared for years.

"It is altogether a charming book. Beautifully printed, bound in a dainty apple-blossom cover, and written in a clean-cut, forceful style. Jessica's letters are bright, witty, and delicately poetic. They introduce to the reader a mind of rare charm, originality, and independence."—Rev.Thomas Dixon, Jr."There can be but praise for the delicate literary quality revealed on every page of this story. It is indeed refreshing to find a love story so charmingly told as this."—Newark News."A love story told in letters, letters which show how simple it is to find even under the very nose of the blue pencil both love and high thinking."—N. Y. Times."It is delicate, sincere, and earnest.... A wholesomeness and sweetness permeates all the book."—Chicago Tribune."A delightfully romantic love story."—The Outlook.

"There can be but praise for the delicate literary quality revealed on every page of this story. It is indeed refreshing to find a love story so charmingly told as this."—Newark News.

"A love story told in letters, letters which show how simple it is to find even under the very nose of the blue pencil both love and high thinking."—N. Y. Times.

"It is delicate, sincere, and earnest.... A wholesomeness and sweetness permeates all the book."—Chicago Tribune.

"A delightfully romantic love story."—The Outlook.

G. P. Putnam's SonsNew YorkLondon

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