It is always unfortunate to make a stumble on the threshold; and Mr. Mill's opening paragraph makes two. "The name of God," he says, "is veiled under two extremely abstract phrases, 'the Infinite and the Absolute.'... But it is one of the most unquestionable of all logical maxims, that the meaning of the abstract must be sought in the concrete, and not conversely."[AK]—Now, in the first place, "the Infinite" and "the Absolute," even in the sense in which they are both predicable of God, are no more names of God than "the creature" and "the finite" are names of man. They are the names of certain attributes, which further inquiry may, perhaps, show to belong to God and to no other being, but which do not in their signification express this, and do not constitute our primary idea of God, which is that of a Person. Men may believe in an absolute and infinite, without in any proper sense believing in God; and thousands upon thousands of pious men have prayed to a personal God, who have never heard of the absolute and the infinite, and who would not understand the expressions if they heard them. But, in the second place, "the absolute" and "the infinite," in Sir W. Hamilton's sense of the terms, cannot both be names of God, for the simple reason that they are contradictory of each other, and are proposed as alternatives which cannot both be accepted as predicates of the same subject. For Hamilton, whatever Mr. Mill may do, did not fall into the absurdity of maintaining that God in some of His attributes is absolute without being infinite, and in others is infinite without being absolute.[AL]

[AK] Examination, p. 32.

[AL] See Examination, p. 35.

But we have not yet done with this single paragraph. After thus making two errors in his exposition of his opponent's doctrine, Mr. Mill immediately proceeds to a third, in his criticism of it. By following his "most unquestionable of all logical maxims," and substituting the name of God in the place of "the Infinite" and "the Absolute," he exactly reverses Sir W. Hamilton's argument, and makes his own attempted refutation of it a glaring ignoratio elenchi.

One of the purposes of Hamilton's argument is to show that we have no positive conception of an Infinite Being; that when we attempt to form such a conception, we do but produce a distorted representation of the finite; and hence, that our so-called conception of the infinite is not the true infinite. Hence it is not to be wondered at—nay, it is a natural consequence of this doctrine,—that our positive conception of God as a Person cannot be included under this pseudo-concept of the Infinite. Whereas Mr. Mill, by laying down the maxim that the meaning of the abstract must be sought in the concrete, quietly assumes that this pseudo-infinite is a proper predicate of God, to be tested by its applicability to the subject, and that what Hamilton says of this infinite cannot be true unless it is also true of God. Of this refutation, Hamilton, were he living, might truly say, as he said of a former criticism on another part of his writings,—"This elaborate parade of argument is literally answered in two words—Quis dubitavit?"

But if the substitution of God for the Infinite be thus a perversion of Hamilton's argument, what shall we say to a similar substitution in the case of the Absolute? Hamilton distinctly tells us that there is one sense of the term absolute in which it is contradictory of the infinite, and therefore is not predicable of God at all. Mr. Mill admits that Hamilton, throughout the greater part of his arguments, employs the term in this sense; and he then actually proceeds to "test" these arguments "by substituting the concrete, God, for the abstract, Absolute;" i.e., by substituting God for something which Hamilton defines as contradictory to the nature of God. Can the force of confusion go further? Is it possible for perverse criticism more utterly, we do not say to misrepresent, but literally to invert an author's meaning?

The source of all these errors, and of a great many more, is simply this. Mr. Mill is aware, from Hamilton's express assertion, that the word absolute may be used in two distinct and even contradictory senses; but he is wholly unable to see what those senses are, or when Hamilton is using the term in the one sense, and when in the other. Let us endeavour to clear up some of this confusion.

Hamilton's article on the Philosophy of the Unconditioned is a criticism, partly of Schelling, partly of Cousin; and Schelling and Cousin only attempted in a new form, under the influence of the Kantian philosophy, to solve the problem with which philosophy in all ages has attempted to grapple,—the problem of the Unconditioned.

"The unconditioned" is a term which, while retaining the same general meaning, admits of various applications, particular or universal. It may be the unconditioned as regards some special relation, or the unconditioned as regards all relations whatever. Thus there may be the unconditioned in Psychology—the human soul considered as a substance; the unconditioned in Cosmology—the world considered as a single whole; the unconditioned in Theology—God in His own nature, as distinguished from His manifestations to us; or, finally, the unconditioned par excellence—the unconditioned in Ontology—the being on which all other being depends. It is of course possible to identify any one of the three first with the last. It is possible to adopt a system of Egoism, and to maintain that all phenomena are modes of my mind, and that the substance of my mind is the only real existence. It is possible to adopt a system of Materialism, and to maintain that all phenomena are modes of matter, and that the material substance of the world is the only real existence. Or it is possible to adopt a system of Pantheism, and to maintain that all phenomena are modes of the Divine existence, and that God is the only reality. But the several notions are in themselves distinct, though one may ultimately be predicated of another.

The general notion of the Unconditioned is the same in all these cases, and all must finally culminate in the last, the Unconditioned par excellence. The general notion is that of the One as distinguished from the Many, the substance from its accidents, the permanent reality from its variable modifications. Thought, will, sensation, are modes of my existence. What is the I that is one and the same in all? Extension, figure, resistance, are attributes of matter. What is the one substance to which these attributes belong? But the generalisation cannot stop here. If matter differs from mind, the non-ego from the ego, as one thing from another, there must be some special point of difference, which, is the condition of the existence of each in this or that particular manner. Unconditioned existence, therefore, in the highest sense of the term, cannot be the existence of this as distinguished from that; it must be existence per se, the ground and principle of all conditioned or special existence. This is the Unconditioned, properly so called: the unconditioned in Schelling's sense, as the indifference of subject and object: and it is against this that Hamilton's arguments are directed.

The question is this. Is this Unconditioned a mere abstraction, the product of our own minds; or can it be conceived as having a real existence per se, and, as such, can it be identified with God as the source of all existence? Hamilton maintains that it is a mere abstraction, and cannot be so identified; that, far from being "a name of God," it is a name of nothing at all. "By abstraction," he says, "we annihilate the object, and by abstraction we annihilate the subject of consciousness. But what remains? Nothing." When we attempt to conceive it as a reality, we "hypostatise the zero."[AM]

[AM] Discussions, p. 21.

In order to conceive the Unconditioned existing as a thing, we must conceive it as existing out of relation to everything else. For if nothing beyond itself is necessary as a condition of its existence, it can exist separate from everything else; and its pure existence as the unconditioned is so separate. It must therefore be conceivable as the sole existence, having no plurality beyond itself; and as simple, having no plurality within itself. For if we cannot conceive it as existing apart from other things, we cannot conceive it as independent of them; and if we conceive it as a compound of parts, we have further to ask as before, what is the principle of unity which binds these parts into one whole? If there is such a principle, this is the true unconditioned; if there is no such principle, there is no unconditioned; for that which cannot exist except as a compound is dependent for its existence on that of its several constituents. The unconditioned must therefore be conceived as one, as simple, and as universal.

Is such a conception possible, whether in ordinary consciousness, as Cousin says, or in an extraordinary intuition, as Schelling says? Let us try the former. Consciousness is subject to the law of Time. A phenomenon is presented to us in time, as dependent on some previous phenomenon or thing. I wish to pursue the chain in thought till I arrive at something independent. If I could reach in thought a beginning of time, and discover some first fact with nothing preceding it, I should conceive time as absolute—as completed,—and the unconditioned as the first thing in time, and therefore as completed also, for it may be considered by itself, apart from what depends upon it. Or if time be considered as having no beginning, thought would still be able to represent to itself that infinity, could it follow out the series of antecedents for ever. But is either of these alternatives possible to thought? If not, we must confess that the unconditioned is inconceivable by ordinary consciousness; and we must found philosophy, with Schelling, on the annihilation of consciousness.

But though Hamilton himself distinguishes between the unconditioned and the absolute, using the former term generally, for that which is out of all relation, and the latter specially, for that which is out of all relation as complete and finished, his opponent Cousin uses the latter term in a wider sense, as synonymous with the former, and the infinite as coextensive with both. This, however, does not affect the validity of Hamilton's argument. For if it can be shown that the absolute and the infinite (in Hamilton's sense) are both inconceivable, the unconditioned (or absolute in Cousin's sense), which must be conceived as one or the other, is inconceivable also. Or, conversely, if it can be shown that the unconditioned, the unrelated in general, is inconceivable, it follows that the absolute and the infinite, as both involving the unrelated, are inconceivable also.

We may now proceed with Mr. Mill's criticism. He says:—

"Absolute, in the sense in which, it stands related to Infinite, means (conformably to its etymology) that which is finished or completed. There are some things of which the utmost ideal amount is a limited quantity, though a quantity never actually reached.... We may speak of absolutely, but not of infinitely, pure water. The purity of water is not a fact of which, whatever degree we suppose attained, there remains a greater beyond. It has an absolute limit: it is capable of being finished or complete, in thought, if not in reality."—(P. 34.)

This criticism is either incorrect or nihil ad rem. If meant as a statement of Hamilton's use of the term, it is incorrect: absolute, in Hamilton's philosophy, does not mean simply "completed," but "out of relation as completed;" i.e., self-existent in its completeness, and not implying the existence of anything else. If meant in any other sense than Hamilton's, it is irrelevant. Can Mr. Mill really have believed that Schelling thought it necessary to invent an intellectual intuition out of time and out of consciousness, in order to contemplate "an ideal limited quantity," such as the complete purity of water?

Mr. Mill continues:—

"Though the idea of Absolute is thus contrasted with that of Infinite, the one is equally fitted with the other to be predicated of God; but not in respect of the same attributes. There is no incorrectness of speech in the phrase Infinite Power: because the notion it expresses is that of a Being who has the power of doing all things which we know or can conceive, and more. But in speaking of knowledge, Absolute is the proper word, and not Infinite. The highest degree of knowledge that can be spoken of with a meaning, only amounts to knowing all that there is to be known: when that point is reached, knowledge has attained its utmost limit. So of goodness or justice: they cannot be more than perfect. There are not infinite degrees of right. The will is either entirely right, or wrong in different degrees."—(P. 35.)

Surely, whatever Divine power can do, Divine knowledge can know as possible to be done. The one, therefore, must be as infinite as the other. And what of Divine goodness? An angel or a glorified saint is absolutely good in Mr. Mill's sense of the term. His "will is entirely right." Does Mr. Mill mean to say that there is no difference, even in degree, between the goodness of God and that of one of His creatures? But, even supposing his statement to be true, how is it relevant to the matter under discussion? Can Mr. Mill possibly be ignorant that all these attributes are relations; that the Absolute in Hamilton's sense, "the unconditionally limited," is not predicable of God at all; and that when divines and philosophers speak of the absolute nature of God, they mean a nature in which there is no distinction of attributes at all?

Mr. Mill then proceeds to give a summary of Hamilton's arguments against Cousin, preparatory to refuting them. In the course of this summary he says:—

"Let me ask, en passant, where is the necessity for supposing that, if the Absolute, or, to speak plainly, if God, is only known to us in the character of a cause, he must therefore 'exist merely as a cause,' and be merely 'a mean towards an end?' It is surely possible to maintain that the Deity is known to us only as he who feeds the ravens, without supposing that the Divine Intelligence exists solely in order that the ravens may be fed."[AN]—(P. 42.)

[AN] In a note to this passage, Mr. Mill makes some sarcastic comments on an argument of Hamilton's against Cousin's theory that God is necessarily determined to create. "On this hypothesis," says Hamilton, "God, as necessarily determined to pass from absolute essence to relative manifestation, is determined to pass either from the better to the worse, or from the worse to the better." Mr. Mill calls this argument "a curiosity of dialectics," and answers, "Perfect wisdom would have begun to will the new state at the precise moment when it began to be better than the old." Hamilton is not speaking of states of things, but of states of the Divine nature, as creative or not creative; and Mr. Mill's argument, to refute Hamilton, must suppose a time when the new nature of God begins to be better than the old! Mr. Mill would perhaps have spoken of Hamilton's argument with more respect had he known that it is taken from Plato.

On this we would remark, en passant, that this is precisely Hamilton's own doctrine, that the sphere of our belief is more extensive than that of our knowledge. The purport of Hamilton's argument is to show that the Absolute, as conceived by Cousin, is not a true Absolute (Infinito-Absolute), and therefore does not represent the real nature of God. His argument is this: "Cousin's Absolute exists merely as a cause: God does not exist merely as a cause: therefore Cousin's Absolute is not God." Mr. Mill actually mistakes the position which Hamilton is opposing for that which he is maintaining. Such an error does not lead us to expect much from his subsequent refutation.

His first criticism is a curious specimen of his reading in philosophy. He says:—

"When the True or the Beautiful are spoken of, the phrase is meant to include all things whatever that are true, or all things whatever that are beautiful. If this rule is good for other abstractions, it is good for the Absolute. The word is devoid of meaning unless in reference to predicates of some sort.... If we are told, therefore, that there is some Being who is, or which is, the Absolute,—not something absolute, but the Absolute itself,—the proposition can be understood in no other sense than that the supposed Being possesses in absolute completeness all predicates; is absolutely good and absolutely bad; absolutely wise and absolutely stupid; and so forth."[AO]—(P. 43.)

[AO] In support of this position, Mr. Mill cites Hegel—"What kind of an absolute Being is that which does not contain in itself all that is actual, even evil included?" We are not concerned to defend Hegel's position; but he was not quite so absurd as to mean what Mr. Mill supposes him to have meant. Does not Mr. Mill know that it was one of Hegel's fundamental positions, that the Divine nature cannot be expressed by a plurality of predicates?

Plato expressly distinguishes between "the beautiful" and "things that are beautiful," as the One in contrast to the Many—the Real in contrast to the Apparent.[AP] It is, of course, quite possible that Plato may be wrong, and Mr. Mill right; but the mere fact of their antagonism is sufficient to show that the meaning of "the phrase" need not be what Mr. Mill supposes it must be. In fact, "the Absolute" in philosophy always has meant the One as distinguished from the Many, not the One as including the Many. But, as applied to Sir W. Hamilton, Mr. Mill's remarks on "the Absolute," and his subsequent remarks on "the Infinite," not only misrepresent Hamilton's position, but exactly reverse it. Hamilton maintains that the terms "absolute" and "infinite" are perfectly intelligible as abstractions, as much so as "relative" and "finite;" for "correlatives suggest each other," and the "knowledge of contradictories is one;" but he denies that a concrete thing or object can be positively conceived as absolute or infinite. Mr. Mill represents him as only proving that the "unmeaning abstractions are unknowable,"—abstractions which Hamilton does not assert to be unmeaning; and which he regards as knowable in the only sense in which such abstractions can be known, viz., by understanding the meaning of their names.[AQ]

[AP] Republic, book v., p. 479.

[AQ] This confusion between conceiving a concrete thing and knowing the meaning of abstract terms is as old as Toland's Christianity not Mysterious, and, indeed, has its germ, though not its development, in the teaching of his assumed master, Locke. Locke taught that all our knowledge is founded on simple ideas, and that a complex idea is merely an accumulation of simple ones. Hence Toland maintained that no object could be mysterious or inconceivable if the terms in which its several attributes are expressed have ideas corresponding to them. But, in point of fact, no simple idea can be conceived as an object by itself, though the word by which it is signified has a perfectly intelligible meaning. I cannot, e.g., conceive whiteness by itself, though I can conceive a white wall, i.e., whiteness in combination with other attributes in a concrete object. To conceive attributes as coexisting, however, we must conceive them as coexisting in a certain manner; for an object of conception is not a mere heap of ideas, but an organized whole, whose constituent ideas exist in a particular combination with and relation to each other. To conceive, therefore, we must not only be able to apprehend each idea separately in the abstract, but also the manner in which they may possibly exist in combination with each other.

"Something infinite," says Mr. Mill, "is a conception which, like most of our complex ideas, contains a negative element, but which contains positive elements also. Infinite space, for instance; is there nothing positive in that? The negative part of this conception is the absence of bounds. The positive are, the idea of space, and of space greater than any finite space."—(P. 45.)

This definition of infinite space is exactly that which Descartes gives us of indefinite extension,—"Ita quia non possumus imaginari extensionem tam magnam, quin intelligamus adhuc majorem esse posse, dicemus magnitudinem rerum possibilium esse indefinitam."[AR] So too, Cudworth,—"There appeareth no sufficient ground for this positive infinity of space; we being certain of no more than this, that be the world or any figurative body never so great, it is not impossible but that it might be still greater and greater without end. Which indefinite increasableness of body and space seems to be mistaken for a positive infinity thereof."[AS] And Locke, a philosopher for whom Mr. Mill will probably have more respect than for Descartes or Cudworth, writes more plainly: "To have actually in the mind the idea of a space infinite, is to suppose the mind already passed over, and actually to have a view of all those repeated ideas of space, which an endless repetition can never totally represent to it,—which carries in it a plain contradiction."[AT] Mr. Mill thus unwittingly illustrates, in his own person, the truth of Hamilton's remark, "If we dream of effecting this [conceiving the infinite in time or space], we only deceive ourselves by substituting the indefinite for the infinite, than which no two notions can be more opposed." In fact, Mr. Mill does not seem to be aware that what the mathematician calls infinite, the metaphysician calls indefinite, and that arguments drawn from the mathematical use of the term infinite are wholly irrelevant to the metaphysical. How, indeed, could it be otherwise? Can any man suppose that, when the Divine attributes are spoken of as infinite, it is meant that they are indefinitely increasable?[AU]

[AR] Principia, i., 26.

[AS] Intellectual System, ed. Harrison, vol. iii., p. 131.

[AT] Essay, ii., 17, 7.

[AU] One of the ablest mathematicians, and the most persevering Hamiltono-mastix of the day, maintains the applicability of the metaphysical notion of infinity to mathematical magnitudes; but with an assumption which unintentionally vindicates Hamilton's position more fully than could have been done by a professed disciple. "I shall assume," says Professor De Morgan, in a paper recently printed among the Transactions of the Cambridge Philosophical Society, "the notion of infinity and of its reciprocal infinitesimal: that a line can be conceived infinite, and therefore having points at an infinite distance. Image apart, which we cannot have, it seems to me clear that a line of infinite length, without points at an infinite distance, is a contradiction." Now it is easy to show, by mere reasoning, without any image, that this assumption is equally a contradiction. For if space is finite, every line in space must be finite also; and if space is infinite, every point in space must have infinite space beyond it in every direction, and therefore cannot be at the greatest possible distance from another point. Or thus: Any two points in space are the extremities of the line connecting them; but an infinite line has no extremities; therefore no two points in space can be connected together by an infinite line.

In fact, it is the "concrete reality," the "something infinite," and not the mere abstraction of infinity, which is only conceivable as a negation. Every "something" that has ever been intuitively present to my consciousness is a something finite. When, therefore, I speak of a "something infinite," I mean a something existing in a different manner from all the "somethings" of which I have had experience in intuition. Thus it is apprehended, not positively, but negatively—not directly by what it is, but indirectly by what it is not. A negative idea is not negative because it is expressed by a negative term, but because it has never been realised in intuition. If infinity, as applied to space, means the same thing as being greater than any finite space, both conceptions are equally positive or equally negative. If it does not mean the same thing, then, in conceiving a space greater than any finite space, we do not conceive an infinite space.

Mr. Mill's next string of criticisms may be very briefly dismissed. First, Hamilton does not, as Mr. Mill asserts, say that "the Unconditioned is inconceivable, because it includes both the Infinite and the Absolute, and these are contradictory of one another." His argument is a common disjunctive syllogism. The unconditioned, if conceivable at all, must be conceived either as the absolute or as the infinite; neither of these is possible; therefore the unconditioned is not conceivable at all. Nor, secondly, is Sir W. Hamilton guilty of the "strange confusion of ideas" which Mr. Mill ascribes to him, when he says that the Absolute, as being absolutely One, cannot be known under the conditions of plurality and difference. The absolute, as such, must be out of all relation, and consequently cannot be conceived in the relation of plurality. "The plurality required," says Mr. Mill, "is not within the thing itself, but is made up between itself and other things." It is, in fact, both; but even granting Mr. Mill's assumption, what is a "plurality between a thing and other things" but a relation between them? There is undoubtedly a "strange confusion of ideas" in this paragraph; but the confusion is not on the part of Sir W. Hamilton. "Again," continues Mr. Mill, "even if we concede that a thing cannot be known at all unless known as plural, does it follow that it cannot be known as plural because it is also One? Since when have the One and the Many been incompatible things, instead of different aspects of the same thing?... If there is any meaning in the words, must not Absolute Unity be Absolute Plurality likewise?" Mr. Mill's "since when?" may be answered in the words of Plato:—"[Greek: Ouden emoige atopon dokei heinai ei hen hapanta apophainei tis to metechein. tou henos kai tauta tauta polla to plethous au metechein; all' ei ho estin hen, auto touto polla apodeixei, kai au ta polla de hen, touto ede thaumasomai.]"[AV] Here we are expressly told that "absolute unity" cannot be "absolute plurality." Mr. Mill may say that Plato is wrong; but he will hardly go so far as to say that there is no meaning in his words. In point of fact, however, it is Mr. Mill who is in error, and not Plato. In different relations, no doubt, the same concrete object may be regarded as one or as many. The same measure is one foot or twelve inches; the same sum is one shilling or twelve pence; but it no more follows that "absolute unity must be absolute plurality likewise," than it follows from the above instances that one is equal to twelve. And, thirdly, when Mr. Mill accuses Sir W. Hamilton of departing from his own meaning of the term absolute, in maintaining that the Absolute cannot be a Cause, he only shows that he does not himself know what Hamilton's meaning is. "If Absolute," he says, "means finished, perfected, completed, may there not be a finished, perfected, and completed Cause?" Hamilton's Absolute is that which is "out of relation, as finished, perfect, complete;" and a Cause, as such, is both in relation and incomplete. It is in relation to its effect; and it is incomplete without its effect. Finally, when Mr. Mill charges Sir W. Hamilton with maintaining "that extension and figure are of the essence of matter, and perceived as such by intuition," we must briefly reply that Hamilton does no such thing. He is not speaking of the essence of matter per se, but only of matter as apprehended in relation to us.

[AV] Parmenides, p. 129.

Mr. Mill concludes this chapter with an attempt to discover the meaning of Hamilton's assertion, "to think is to condition." We have already explained what Hamilton meant by this expression; and we recur to the subject now, only to show the easy manner in which Mr. Mill manages to miss the point of an argument with the clue lying straight before him. "Did any," he says (of those who say that the Absolute is thinkable), "profess to think it in any other manner than by distinguishing it from other things?" Now this is the very thing which, according to Hamilton, Schelling actually did. Mr. Mill does not attempt to show that Hamilton is wrong in his interpretation of Schelling, nor, if he is right, what were the reasons which led Schelling to so paradoxical a position: he simply assumes that no man could hold Schelling's view, and there is an end of it.[AW] Hamilton's purpose is to reassert in substance the doctrine which Kant maintained, and which Schelling denied; and the natural way to ascertain his meaning would be by reference to these two philosophers. But this is not the method of Mr. Mill, here or elsewhere. He generally endeavours to ascertain Hamilton's meaning by ranging the wide field of possibilities. He tells us what a phrase means in certain authors of whom Hamilton is not thinking, or in reference to certain matters which Hamilton is not discussing; but he hardly ever attempts to trace the history of Hamilton's own view, or the train of thought by which it suggested itself to his mind. And the result of this is, that Mr. Mill's interpretations are generally in the potential mood. He wastes a good deal of conjecture in discovering what Hamilton might have meant, when a little attention in the right quarter would have shown what he did mean.

[AW] Mr. Mill does not expressly name Schelling in this sentence: but he does so shortly afterwards; and his remark is of the same character with the previous one. "Even Schelling," he says, "was not so gratuitously absurd as to deny that the Absolute must be known according to the capacities of that which knows it—though he was forced to invent a special capacity for the purpose." But if this capacity is an "invention" of Schelling's, and if he was "forced" to invent it, Hamilton's point is proved. To think, according to all the real operations of thought which consciousness makes known to us, is to condition. And the faculty of the unconditioned is an invention of Schelling's, not known to consciousness. In other words: all our real faculties bear witness to the truth of Hamilton's statement; and the only way of controverting it is to invent an imaginary faculty for the purpose.

The third feature of Hamilton's philosophy which we charged Mr. Mill with misunderstanding, is the distinction between Knowledge and Belief. In the early part of this article, we endeavoured to explain the true nature of this distinction; we have now only a very limited space to notice Mr. Mill's criticisms on it. Hamilton, he says, admitted "a second source of intellectual conviction called Belief." Now Belief is not a "source" of any conviction, but the conviction itself. No man would say that he is convinced of the truth of a proposition because he believes it; his belief in its truth is the same thing as his conviction of its truth. Belief, then, is not a source of conviction, but a conviction having sources of its own. The question is, have we legitimate sources of conviction, distinct from those which constitute Knowledge properly so called? Now here it should be remembered that the distinction is not one invented by Hamilton to meet the exigencies of his own system. He enumerates as many as twenty-two authors, of the most various schools of philosophy, who all acknowledged it before him. Such a concurrence is no slight argument in favour of the reality of the distinction. We do not say that these writers, or Hamilton himself, have always expressed this distinction in the best language, or applied it in the best manner; but we say that it is a true distinction, and that it is valid for the principal purpose to which Hamilton applied it.

We do not agree with all the details of Hamilton's application. We do not agree with him, though he is supported by very eminent authorities, in classifying our conviction of axiomatic principles as belief, and not as knowledge.[AX] But this question does not directly bear on Mr. Mill's criticism. The point of that criticism is, that Hamilton, by admitting a belief in the infinite and unrelated, nullifies his own doctrine, that all knowledge is of the finite and relative. Let us see.

[AX] Hamilton's distinction is in principle the same as that which we have given in our previous remarks (pp. 18, 19). He says, "A conviction is incomprehensible when there is merely given to us in consciousness—That its object is ([Greek: hoti esti]), and when we are unable to comprehend through a higher notion or belief Why or How it is ([Greek: dioti esti])."—(Reid's Works, p. 754.) We would distinguish between why and how, between [Greek: dioti], and [Greek: pos]. We can give no reason why two straight lines cannot enclose a space; but we can comprehend how they cannot. We have only to form the corresponding image, to see the manner in which the two attributes coexist in one object. But when I say that I believe in the existence of a spiritual being who sees without eyes, I cannot conceive the manner in which seeing coexists with the absence of the bodily organ of sight. We believe that the true distinction between knowledge and belief may ultimately be referred to the presence or absence of the corresponding intuition; but to show this in the various instances would require a longer dissertation than our present limits will allow.

We may believe that a thing is, without being able to conceive how it is. I believe that God is a person, and also that He is infinite; though I cannot conceive how the attributes of personality and infinity exist together. All my knowledge of personality is derived from my consciousness of my own finite personality. I therefore believe in the coexistence of attributes in God, in some manner different from that in which they coexist in me as limiting each other: and thus I believe in the fact, though I am unable to conceive the manner. So, again, Kant brings certain counter arguments, to prove, on the one side, that the world has a beginning in time, and, on the other side, that it has not a beginning. Now suppose I am unable to refute either of these courses of argument, am I therefore compelled to have no belief at all? May I not say, I believe, in spite of Kant, that the world has a beginning in time, though I am unable to conceive how it can have so begun? What is this, again, but a belief in an absolute reality beyond the sphere of my relative knowledge?

"I am not now considering," says Mr. Mill, "what it is that, in our author's opinion, we are bound to believe concerning the unknowable." Why, this was the very thing he ought to have considered, before pronouncing the position to be untenable, or to be irreconcilable with something else. Meanwhile, it is instructive to observe that Mr. Mill himself believes, or requires his readers to believe, something concerning the unknown. He does not know, or at any rate he does not tell his readers, what Hamilton requires them to believe concerning the unknowable; but he himself believes, and requires them to believe, that this unknown something is incompatible with the doctrine that knowledge is relative. We cannot regard this as a very satisfactory mode of refuting Hamilton's thesis.[AY]

[AY] In a subsequent chapter (p. 120), Mr. Mill endeavours to overthrow this distinction between Knowledge and Belief, by means of Hamilton's own theory of Consciousness. Hamilton maintains that we cannot be conscious of a mental operation without being conscious of its object. On this Mr. Mill retorts that if, as Hamilton admits, we are conscious of a belief in the Infinite and the Absolute, we must be conscious of the Infinite and the Absolute themselves; and such consciousness is Knowledge. The fallacy of this retort is transparent. The immediate object of Belief is a proposition which I hold to be true, not a thing apprehended in an act of conception. I believe in an infinite God; i.e., I believe that God is infinite: I believe that the attributes which I ascribe to God exist in Him in an infinite degree. Now, to believe this proposition, I must, of course, be conscious of its meaning; but I am not therefore conscious of the Infinite God as an object of conception; for this would require further an apprehension of the manner in which these infinite attributes coexist so as to form one object. The whole argument of this eighth chapter is confused, owing to Mr. Mill not having distinguished between those passages in which Sir W. Hamilton is merely using an argumentum ad hominem in relation to Reid, and those in which he is reasoning from general principles.

But if Mr. Mill is unjust towards the distinction between Knowledge and Belief, as held by Sir W. Hamilton, he makes ample amends to the injured theory in the next chapter, by enlarging the province of credibility far beyond any extent which Hamilton would have dreamed of claiming for it. Conceivability or inconceivability, he tells us, are usually dependent on association; and it is quite possible that, under other associations, we might be able to conceive, and therefore to believe, anything short of the direct contradiction that the same thing is and is not. It is not in itself incredible, that a square may at the same time be round, that two straight lines may enclose a space, or even that two and two may make five.[AZ] But whatever concessions Mr. Mill may make on this point, he is at least fully determined that Sir W. Hamilton shall derive no benefit from them; for he forthwith proceeds to charge Sir William with confusing three distinct senses of the term conception—a confusion which exists solely in his own imagination,[BA]—and to assert that the Philosophy of the Conditioned is entirely founded on a mistake, inasmuch as infinite space on the one hand, and, on the other, both an absolute minimum and an infinite divisibility of space, are perfectly conceivable. With regard to the former of these two assertions, Mr. Mill's whole argument is vitiated, as we have already shown, by his confusion between infinite and indefinite; but it is worth while to quote one of his special instances in this chapter, as a specimen of the kind of reasoning which an eminent writer on logic can sometimes employ. In reference to Sir W. Hamilton's assertion, that infinite space would require infinite time to conceive it, he says, "Let us try the doctrine upon a complex whole, short of infinite, such as the number 695,788. Sir W. Hamilton would not, I suppose, have maintained that this number is inconceivable. How long did he think it would take to go over every separate unit of this whole, so as to obtain a perfect knowledge of the exact sum, as different from all other sums, either greater or less?"

[AZ] In reference to this last paradox, Mr. Mill quotes from Essays by a Barrister: "There is a world in which, whenever two pairs of things are either placed in proximity or are contemplated together, a fifth thing is immediately created and brought within the contemplation of the mind engaged in putting two and two together.... In such a world surely two and two would make five. That is, the result to the mind of contemplating two twos would be to count five." The answer to this reasoning has been already given by Archdeacon Lee in his Essay on Miracles. The "five" in this case is not the sum of two and two, but of two and two plus the new creature, i.e., of two and two plus one.

[BA] The sense in which Sir W. Hamilton himself uses the word conception is explained in a note to Reid's Works, p. 377—namely, the combination of two or more attributes in a unity of representation. The second sense which Mr. Mill imagines is simply a mistake of his own. When Hamilton speaks of being "unable to conceive as possible," he does not mean, as Mr. Mill supposes, physically possible under the law of gravitation or some other law of matter, but mentally possible as a representation or image; and thus the supposed second sense is identical with the first. The third sense may also be reduced to the first; for to conceive two attributes as combined in one representation is to form a notion subordinate to those of each attribute separately. We do not say that Sir W. Hamilton has been uniformly accurate in his application of the test of conceivability; but we say that his inaccuracies, such as they are, do not affect the theory of the conditioned, and that in all the long extracts which Mr. Mill quotes, with footnotes, indicating "first sense," "second sense," "third sense," the author's meaning may be more accurately explained in the first sense only.

It is marvellous that it should not have occurred to Mr. Mill, while he was writing this passage, "How comes this large number to be a 'whole' at all; and how comes it that 'this whole,' with all its units, can be written down by means of six digits?" Simply because of a conventional arrangement, by which a single digit, according to its position, can express, by one mark, tens, hundreds, thousands, &c., of units; and thus can exhaust the sum by dealing with its items in large masses. But how can such a process exhaust the infinite? We should like to know how long Mr. Mill thinks it would take to work out the following problem:—"If two figures can represent ten, three a hundred, four a thousand, five ten thousand, &c., find the number of figures required to represent infinity."[BB]

[BB] Precisely the same misconception of Hamilton's position occurs in Professor De Morgan's paper in the Cambridge Transactions, to which we have previously referred. He speaks (p. 13) of the "notion, which runs through many writers, from Descartes to Hamilton, that the mind must be big enough to hold all it can conceive." This notion is certainly not maintained by Hamilton, nor yet by Descartes in the paragraph quoted by Mr. De Morgan; nor, as far as we are aware, in any other part of his works.

Infinite divisibility stands or falls with infinite extension. In both cases Mr. Mill confounds infinity with indefiniteness. But with regard to an absolute minimum of space, Mr. Mill's argument requires a separate notice.

"It is not denied," he says, "that there is a portion of extension which to the naked eye appears an indivisible point; it has been called by philosophers the minimum visibile. This minimum we can indefinitely magnify by means of optical instruments, making visible the still smaller parts which compose it. In each successive experiment there is still a minimum visibile, anything less than which cannot be discovered with that instrument, but can with one of a higher power. Suppose, now, that as we increase the magnifying power of our instruments, and before we have reached the limit of possible increase, we arrive at a stage at which that which seemed the smallest visible space under a given microscope, does not appear larger under one which, by its mechanical construction, is adapted to magnify more, but still remains apparently indivisible. I say, that if this happened, we should believe in a minimum of extension; or if some a priori metaphysical prejudice prevented us from believing it, we should at least be enabled to conceive it."—(P. 84.)

The natural conclusion of most men under such circumstances would be, that there was some fault in the microscope. But even if this conclusion were rejected, we presume Mr. Mill would allow that, under the supposed circumstances, the exact magnitude of the minimum of extension would be calculable. We have only to measure the minimum visibile, and know what is the magnifying power of our microscope, to determine the exact dimensions. Suppose, then, that we assign to it some definite magnitude—say the ten billionth part of an inch,—should we then conclude that it is impossible to conceive the twenty billionth part of an inch?—in other words, that we have arrived at a definite magnitude which has no conceivable half? Surely this is a somewhat rash concession to be made by a writer who has just told us that numbers may be conceived up to infinity; and therefore, of course, down to infinitesimality.

Mr. Mill concludes this chapter with an assertion which, even by itself, is sufficient to show how very little he has attended to or understood the philosophy which he is attempting to criticise. "The law of Excluded Middle," he says, "as well as that of Contradiction, is common to all phenomena. But it is a doctrine of our author that these laws are true, and cannot but be known to be true, of Noumena likewise. It is not merely Space as cognisable by our senses, but Space as it is in itself, which he affirms must be either of unlimited or of limited extent" (p. 86). At this sentence we fairly stand aghast. "Space as it is in itself!" the Noumenon Space! Has Mr. Mill been all this while "examining" Sir William Hamilton's philosophy, in utter ignorance that the object of that philosophy is the "Conditioned in Time and Space;" that he accepts Kant's analysis of time and space as formal necessities of thought, but pronounces no opinion whatever as to whether time and space can exist as Noumena or not? It is the phenomenal space, "space as cognisable by our senses," which Sir W. Hamilton says must be either limited or unlimited: concerning the Noumenon Space, he does not hazard an opinion whether such a thing exists or not. He says, indeed (and this is probably what has misled Mr. Mill), that the laws of Identity, Contradiction, and Excluded Middle, are laws of things as well as laws of thought;[BC] but he says nothing about these laws as predicating infinite or finite extension. On the contrary, he expressly classifies Space under the law of Relativity, the violation of which indicates what may exist, but what we are unable to conceive as existing. Briefly, the law of Excluded Middle (to take this instance alone) is a law of things only in its abstract form, "Everything must be A or not A" (extended, if you please, or not extended); but in its subordinate form, "Everything extended must be extended infinitely or finitely," it is only applicable, and only intended by Hamilton to be applied, to those phenomena which are already given as extended in some degree.

[BC] Discussions, p. 603.

We have now examined the first six chapters of Mr. Mill's book, containing his remarks on that portion of Sir W. Hamilton's philosophy which he justly regards as comprising the most important of the doctrines which specially belong to Hamilton himself. The next chapter is an episode, in which Mr. Mill turns aside from Sir W. Hamilton to criticise Mr. Mansel's Bampton Lectures. As our limits do not permit us to carry on the argument at present through the remainder of Mr. Mill's remarks on Hamilton himself, we shall conclude our notice with a few words on this chapter, as closing the properly metaphysical portion of Mr. Mill's book, and as affording ample proof that, in this department of philosophy at least, Mr. Mill's powers of misapprehension do not cease when Sir W. Hamilton is no longer their object.

Mr. Mill's method of criticism makes it generally necessary to commence with a statement of the criticised theory as it really is, before proceeding to his exposition of it as it is not. The present instance offers no exception to this rule. Mr. Mansel's argument may be briefly stated as follows. The primary and essential conception of God, imperatively demanded by our moral and religious consciousness, is that of a person. But personality implies intellectual and moral attributes; and the only direct and immediate knowledge which we have of such attributes is derived from the testimony of self-consciousness, bearing witness to their existence in a certain manner in ourselves. But when we endeavour to transfer the conception of personality, thus obtained, to the domain of theology, we meet with certain difficulties, which, while they are not sufficient to hinder us from believing in the Divine Personality as a fact, yet hinder us from conceiving the manner of its existence, and prevent us from exhibiting our belief as a philosophical conclusion, proved by irrefragable reasoning and secured against all objections. These difficulties are occasioned, on the one hand, by the so-called Philosophy of the Unconditioned, which in all ages has shown a tendency towards Pantheism, and which, in one of its latest and most finished manifestations, announces itself as the exhibition of God as He is in His eternal nature before creation; and, on the other hand, by the limitations and conditions to which our own personality is subject, and which, as we have pointed out in the earlier part of this article, have, from the very beginning of Christian theology, prevented theologians from accepting the limited personality of man as an exact image and counterpart of the unlimited personality of God. These difficulties Mr. Mansel endeavours to meet in two ways. On the one side, he maintains, in common with Sir W. Hamilton, that the Philosophy of the Unconditioned, by reason of its own incongruities and self-contradictions, has no claim to be accepted as a competent witness in the matter; and on the other side, he maintains, in common with many theologians before him, that human personality cannot be assumed as an exact copy of the Divine, but only as that which is most nearly analogous to it among finite things. But these two positions, if admitted, involve a corresponding practical conclusion as regards the criterion of religious truth or falsehood. Were we capable, either, on the one hand, of a clear conception of the Unconditioned, or, on the other, of a direct intuition of the Divine Attributes as objects of consciousness, we might be able to construct, deductively or inductively, an exact science of Theology. As it is, we are compelled to reason by analogy; and analogy furnishes only probabilities, varying, it may be, from slight presumptions up to moral certainties, but whose weight, in any given case, can only be determined by comparison with other evidences. There are three distinct sources from which we may form a judgment about the ways of God—first, from our own moral and intellectual consciousness, by which we judge a priori of what God ought to do in a given case, by determining what we should think it wise or right for ourselves to do in a similar case; secondly, from the constitution and course of nature, from which we may learn by experience what God's providence in certain cases actually is; and thirdly, from revelation, attested by its proper evidences. Where these three agree in their testimony (as in the great majority of cases they do) we have the moral certainty which results from the harmony of all accessible evidences: where they appear to differ, we have no right at once to conclude that the second or the third must give way to the first, and not vice versa; because we have no right to assume that the first alone is infallible. In the author's own words: "The lesson to be learnt from an examination of the Limits of Religious Thought is not that man's judgments are worthless in relation to Divine things, but that they are fallible: and the probability of error in any particular case can never be fairly estimated without giving their full weight to all collateral considerations. We are indeed bound to believe that a Revelation given by God can never contain anything that is really unwise or unrighteous; but we are not always capable of estimating exactly the wisdom or righteousness of particular doctrines or precepts. And we are bound to bear in mind that exactly in proportion to the strength of the remaining evidence for the Divine origin of a religion, is the probability that we may be mistaken in supposing this or that portion of its contents to be unworthy of God. Taken in conjunction, the two arguments may confirm or correct each other: taken singly and absolutely, each may vitiate the result which should follow from their joint application."[BD]

[BD] Bampton Lectures, p. 156, 4th edition.

In criticising the first part of this argument—that which is directed against the deductive philosophy of the Unconditioned—Mr. Mill manifests the same want of acquaintance with its meanings, and with the previous history of the question; which he had before exhibited in his attack on Sir W. Hamilton. He begins by finding fault with the definition of the Absolute, which Mr. Mansel (herein departing, and purposely departing, from Sir W. Hamilton's use of the term) defines as "that which exists in and by itself, having no necessary relation to any other Being." On this, Mr. Mill remarks: "The first words of his definition would serve for the description of a Noumenon; but Mr. Mansel's Absolute is only meant to denote one Being, identified with God, and God is not the only Noumenon." The description of a Noumenon! This is almost equal to the discovery of a Noumenon Space. Does Mr. Mill really suppose that all noumena are self-existent? A noumenon (in the sense in which we suppose Mr. Mill to understand the term, for it has different meanings in different philosophies) implies an existence out of relation to the human mind.[BE] But is this the same as being out of all relation whatever, as existing "in and by itself?" Does Mr. Mill mean to say that a creature, whether perceived by us or not, has no relation to its Creator? But Mr. Mill, as we have seen before, is not much at home when he gets among "noumena." We must proceed to his criticism of the second part of the definition,—"having no necessary relation to any other being." Of these words he says, that "they admit of two constructions. The words in their natural sense only mean, capable of existing out of relation to anything else. The argument requires that they should mean incapable of existing in relation with anything else." And why is this non-natural sense to be forced upon very plain words? Because, says Mr. Mill,—

[BE] Strictly speaking, the term noumenon, as meaning that which can be apprehended only by the intellect, implies a relation to the intellect apprehending it; and in this sense [Greek: to nooumenon] is opposed by Plato to [Greek: to horomenon]—the object of intellect to the object of sight. But as the intellect was supposed to take cognisance of things as they are, in opposition to the sensitive perception of things as they appear, the term noumenon became synonymous with thing in itself ([Greek: to hon kath' hauto]). And this meaning is retained in the Kantian philosophy, in which the noumenon is identical with the Ding an sich. But as Kant denied to the human intellect any immediate intuition of things as they are (though such an intuition may be possible to a superhuman intellect), hence the term noumenon in the Kantian philosophy is opposed to all of which the human intellect can take positive cognisance. Hamilton, in this respect, agrees with Kant. But neither Kant nor Hamilton, in opposing the thing in itself to the phenomenon, meant to imply that the former is necessarily self-existent, and therefore uncreated.

"In what manner is a possible existence out of all relation, incompatible with the notion of a cause? Have not causes a possible existence apart from their effects? Would the sun, for example, not exist if there were no earth or planets for it to illuminate? Mr. Mansel seems to think that what is capable of existing out of relation, cannot possibly be conceived or known in relation. But this is not so.... Freed from this confusion of ideas, Mr. Mansel's argument resolves itself into this,—The same Being cannot be thought by us both as Cause and as Absolute, because a Cause as such is not Absolute, and Absolute, as such, is not a Cause; which is exactly as if he had said that Newton cannot be thought by us both as an Englishman and as a mathematician, because an Englishman, as such, is not a mathematician, nor a mathematician, as such, an Englishman."—(P. 92.)

The "confusion of ideas" is entirely of Mr. Mill's own making, and is owing to his having mutilated the argument before criticising it. The argument in its original form consists of two parts; the first intended to show that the Absolute is not conceived as such in being conceived as a Cause; the second to show that the Absolute cannot be conceived under different aspects at different times—first as Absolute, and then as Cause. It was the impossibility of this latter alternative which drove Cousin to the hypothesis of a necessary causation from all eternity. Mr. Mill entirely omits the latter part of the argument, and treats the former part as if it were the whole. The part criticised by Mr. Mill is intended to prove exactly what it does prove, and no more; namely, that a cause as such is not the absolute, and that to know a cause as such is not to know the absolute. We presume Mr. Mill himself will admit that to know Newton as a mathematician is not to know him as an Englishman. Whether he can be known separately as both, and whether the Absolute in this respect is a parallel case, depends on another consideration, which Mr. Mill has not noticed. The continuation of Mr. Mill's criticism is equally confused. He says:—

"The whole of Mr. Mansel's argument for the inconceivability of the Infinite and of the Absolute is one long ignoratio elenchi. It has been pointed out in a former chapter that the words Absolute and Infinite have no real meaning, unless we understand by them that which is absolute or infinite in some given attribute; as space is called infinite, meaning that it is infinite in extension; and as God is termed infinite, in the sense of possessing infinite power, and absolute in the sense of absolute goodness or knowledge. It has also been shown that Sir W. Hamilton's arguments for the unknowableness of the Unconditioned do not prove that we cannot know an object which is absolute or infinite in some specific attribute, but only that we cannot know an abstraction called 'The Absolute' or 'The Infinite,' which is supposed to have all attributes at once."—(P. 93.)

The fallacy of this criticism, as regards Sir W. Hamilton, has been already pointed out: as regards Mr. Mansel, it is still more glaring, inasmuch as that writer expressly states that he uses the term absolute in a different sense from that which Mr. Mill attributes to Sir W. Hamilton. When Mr. Mill charges Mr. Mansel with "undertaking to prove the impossibility" of conceiving "a Being absolutely just or absolutely wise"[BF] (i.e., as he supposes, perfectly just or wise), he actually forgets that he has just been criticising Mr. Hansel's definition of the Absolute, as something having a possible existence "out of all relation." Will Mr. Mill have the kindness to tell us what he means by goodness and knowledge "out of all relation;" i.e., a goodness and knowledge related to no object on which they can be exercised; a goodness which is good to nothing, a knowledge which knows nothing? Mr. Mill had better be cautious in talking about ignoratio elenchi.

[BF] Examination, p. 95.

From the Absolute, Mr. Mill proceeds to the Infinite; and here he commits the same mistake as before, treating a portion of an argument as if it were the whole, and citing a portion intended to prove one point as if it were intended to prove another. He cites a passage from Mr. Mansel, in which it is said that "the Infinite, if it is to be conceived at all, must be conceived as potentially everything and actually nothing; for if there is anything in general which it cannot become, it is thereby limited; and if there is anything in particular which it actually is, it is thereby excluded from being any other thing. But, again, it must also be conceived as actually everything and potentially nothing; for an unrealised potentiality is likewise a limitation. If the Infinite can be that which it is not, it is by that very possibility marked out as incomplete, and capable of a higher perfection. If it is actually everything, it possesses no characteristic feature by which it can be distinguished from anything else, and discerned as an object of consciousness." On this passage Mr. Mill remarks, "Can a writer be serious who bids us conjure up a conception of something which possesses infinitely all conflicting attributes, and because we cannot do this without contradiction, would have us believe that there is a contradiction in the idea of infinite goodness or infinite wisdom?" The answer to this criticism is very simple. The argument is not employed for the purpose which Mr. Mill supposes. It is employed to show that the metaphysical notion of the absolute-infinite, as the sum, potential or actual, of all possible existence, is inconceivable under the laws of human consciousness; and thus that the absolutely first existence, related to nothing and limited by nothing, the ens realissimum of the older philosophers, the pure being of the Hegelians, cannot be attained as a starting-point from which to deduce all relative and derived existence. How far the empirical conception of certain mental attributes, such as goodness or wisdom, derived in the first instance from our own personal consciousness, can be positively conceived as extended to infinity, is considered in a separate argument, which Mr. Mill does not notice.

Mr. Mill continues, "Instead of 'the Infinite,' substitute 'an infinitely good Being' [i.e., substitute what is not intended], and Mr. Mansel's argument reads thus:—'If there is anything which an infinitely good Being cannot become—if he cannot become bad—that is a limitation, and the goodness cannot be infinite. If there is anything which an infinitely good Being actually is (namely, good), he is excluded from being any other thing, as being wise or powerful.'" To the first part of this objection we reply by simply asking, "Is becoming bad a 'higher perfection?'" To the second part we reply by Mr. Mill's favourite mode of reasoning—a parallel case. A writer asserts that a creature which is a horse is thereby excluded from being a dog; and that, in so far as it has the nature of a horse, it has not the nature of a dog. "What!" exclaims Mr. Mill, "is it not the nature of a dog to have four legs? and does the man mean to say that a horse has not four legs?" We venture respectfully to ask Mr. Mill whether he supposes that being wise is being "a thing," and being good is being another "thing?"

But, seriously, it is much to be wished that when a writer like Mr. Mill undertakes to discuss philosophical questions, he should acquire some slight acquaintance with the history of the questions discussed. Had this been done by our critic in the present case, it might possibly have occurred to him to doubt whether a doctrine supported by philosophers of such different schools of thought as Spinoza, Malebranche, Wolf, Kant, Schelling, could be quite such a piece of transparent nonsense as he supposes it to be. All these writers are cited in Mr. Mansel's note, as maintaining the theory that the Absolute is the ens realissimum, or sum of all existence; and their names might have saved Mr. Mill from the absurdity of supposing that by this expression was meant something "absolutely good and absolutely bad; absolutely wise and absolutely stupid; and so forth." The real meaning of the expression has been already sufficiently explained in our earlier remarks. The problem of the Philosophy of the Unconditioned, as sketched by Plato and generally adopted by subsequent philosophers, is, as we have seen, to ascend up to the first principle of all things, and thence to deduce, as from their cause, all dependent and derived existences. The Unconditioned, as the one first principle, must necessarily contain in itself, potentially or actually, all that is derived from it, and thus must comprehend, in embryo or in development, the sum of all existence. To reconcile this conclusion with the phenomenal existence of evil and imperfection, is the difficulty with which philosophy has had to struggle ever since philosophy began. The Manichean, by referring evil to an independent cause, denies the existence of an absolute first principle at all; the Leibnitzian, with his hypothesis of the best possible world, virtually sets bounds to the Divine omnipotence: the Pantheist identifies God with all actual existence, and either denies the real existence of evil at all, or merges the distinction between evil and good in some higher indifference. All these conclusions may be alike untenable, but all alike testify to the existence of the problem, and to the vast though unsuccessful efforts which man's reason has made to solve it.

The reader may now, perhaps, understand the reason of an assertion which Mr. Mill regards as supremely absurd,—namely, that we must believe in the existence of an absolute and infinite Being, though unable to conceive the nature of such a Being. To believe in such a Being, is simply to believe that God made the world: to declare the nature of such a Being inconceivable, is simply to say that we do not know how the world was made. If we believe that God made the world, we must believe that there was a time when the world was not, and when God alone existed, out of relation to any other being. But the mode of that sole existence we are unable to conceive, nor in what manner the first act took place by which the absolute and self-existent gave existence to the relative and dependent. "The contradictions," says Mr. Mill, "which Mr. Mansel asserts to be involved in the notions, do not follow from an imperfect mode of apprehending the Infinite and the Absolute, but lie in the definitions of them, in the meaning of the words themselves." They do no such thing: the meaning of the words is perfectly intelligible, and is exactly what is expressed by their definitions: the contradictions arise from the attempt to combine the attributes expressed by the words in one representation with others, so as to form a positive object of consciousness. Where is the incongruity of saying, "I believe that a being exists possessing certain attributes, though I am unable in my present state of knowledge to conceive the manner of that existence?" Mr. Mill, at all events, is the last man in the world who has any right to complain of such a distinction—Mr. Mill, who considers it not incredible that in some part of the universe two straight lines may enclose a space, or two and two make five; though he is compelled to allow that under our present laws of thought, or, if he pleases, of association, we are unable to conceive how these things can be.

It is wearisome work to wade through this mass of misconceptions; yet we must entreat the reader's patience a little longer, while we say a few words in conclusion on perhaps the greatest misconception of all—though that is bold language to use with regard to Mr. Mill's metaphysics,—at any rate, the one which he expresses in the most vehement language. Mr. Mansel, as we have said, asserts, as many others have asserted before him, that the relation between the communicable attributes of God and the corresponding attributes of man is one not of identity, but of analogy; that is to say, that the Divine attributes have the same relation to the Divine nature that the human attributes have to human nature. Thus, for example, there is a Divine justice and there is a human justice; but God is just as the Creator and Governor of the world, having unlimited authority over all His creatures and unlimited jurisdiction over all their acts; and man is just in certain special relations, as having authority over some persons and some acts only, so far as is required for the needs of human society. So, again, there is a Divine mercy and there is a human mercy; but God is merciful in such a manner as is fitting compatibly with the righteous government of the universe; and man is merciful in a certain limited range, the exercise of the attribute being guided by considerations affecting the welfare of society or of individuals. Or to take a more general case: Man has in himself a rule of right and wrong, implying subjection to the authority of a superior (for conscience has authority only as reflecting the law of God); while God has in Himself a rule of right and wrong, implying no higher authority, and determined absolutely by His own nature. The case is the same when we look at moral attributes, not externally, in their active manifestations, but internally, in their psychological constitution. If we do not attribute to God the same complex mental constitution of reason, passion, and will, the same relation to motives and inducements, the same deliberation and choice of alternatives, the same temporal succession of facts in consciousness, which we ascribe to man,—it will follow that those psychological relations between reason, will, and desire, which are implied in the conception of human action, cannot represent the Divine excellences in themselves, but can only illustrate them by analogies from finite things. And if man is liable to error in judging of the conduct of his fellow-men, in proportion as he is unable to place himself in their position, or to realise to himself their modes of thought and principles of action—if the child, for instance, is liable to error in judging the actions of the man,—or the savage of the civilised man,—surely there is far more room for error in men's judgment of the ways of God, in proportion as the difference between God and man is greater than the difference between a man and a child.

This doctrine elicits from Mr. Mill the following extraordinary outburst of rhetoric:—

"If, instead of the glad tidings that there exists a Being in whom all the excellences which the highest human mind can conceive, exist in a degree inconceivable to us, I am informed that the world is ruled by a being whose attributes are infinite, but what they are we cannot learn, nor what are the principles of his government, except that 'the highest human morality which we are capable of conceiving' does not sanction them; convince me of it, and I will bear my fate as I may. But when I am told that I must believe this, and at the same time call this being by the names which express and affirm the highest human morality, I say in plain terms that I will not. Whatever power such a being may have over me, there is one thing which he shall not do: he shall not compel me to worship him. I will call no being good, who is not what I mean when I apply that epithet to my fellow-creatures; and if such a being can sentence me to hell for not so calling him, to hell I will go."—(P. 103.)

We will not pause to comment on the temper and taste of this declamation; we will simply ask whether Mr. Mill really supposes the word good to lose all community of meaning, when it is applied, as it constantly is, to different persons among our "fellow-creatures," with express reference to their different duties and different qualifications for performing them? The duties of a father are not the same as those of a son; is the word therefore wholly equivocal when we speak of one person as a good father, and another as a good son? Nay, when we speak generally of a man as good, has not the epithet a tacit reference to human nature and human duties? and yet is there no community of meaning when the same epithet is applied to other Creatures? [Greek: He arete pros to ergon to oikeion]—the goodness of any being whatever has relation to the nature and office of that being. We may therefore test Mr. Mill's declamation by a parallel case. A wise and experienced father addresses a young and inexperienced son: "My son," he says, "there may be some of my actions which do not seem to you to be wise or good, or such as you would do in my place. Remember, however, that your duties are different from mine; that your knowledge of my duties is very imperfect; and that there may be things which you cannot now see to be wise and good, but which you may hereafter discover to be so." "Father," says the son, "your principles of action are not the same as mine; the highest morality which I can conceive at present does not sanction them; and as for believing that you are good in anything of which I do not plainly see the goodness,"—We will not repeat Mr. Mill's alternative; we will only ask whether it is not just possible that there may be as much difference between man and God as there is between a child and his father?

This declamation is followed by a sneer, which is worth quoting, not on its own account, but as an evidence of the generosity with which Mr. Mill deals with the supposed motives of his antagonists, and of the accuracy of his acquaintance with the subject discussed. He says:—

"It is worthy of remark, that the doubt whether words applied to God have their human signification, is only felt when the words relate to his moral attributes; it is never heard of with regard to his power. We are never told that God's omnipotence must not be supposed to mean an infinite degree of the power we know in man and nature, and that perhaps it does not mean that he is able to kill us, or consign us to eternal flames. The Divine Power is always interpreted in a completely human signification; but the Divine Goodness and Justice must be understood to be such only in an unintelligible sense. Is it unfair to surmise that this is because those who speak in the name of God, have need of the human conception of his power, since an idea which can overawe and enforce obedience must address itself to real feelings; but are content that his goodness should be conceived only as something inconceivable, because they are so often required to teach doctrines respecting him which conflict irreconcilably with all goodness that we can conceive?"—(P. 104.)

On the latter part of this paragraph we will not attempt to comment. But as regards the former part, we meet Mr. Mill's confident assertion with a direct denial, and take the opportunity of informing him that the conception of infinite Power has suggested the same difficulties; and has been discussed by philosophers and theologians in the same manner, as those of infinite Wisdom and infinite Goodness. Has Mr. Mill never heard of such questions as, Whether Omnipotence can reverse the past?—Whether God can do that which He does not will to do?—Whether God's perfect foreknowledge is compatible with his own perfect liberty?—Whether God could have made a better world than the existing one? Nay, has not our critic, in this very chapter, been arguing against Mr. Mansel on the question, whether the Absolute can be conceived as a Cause acting in time: and what is this but a form of the question, whether power, when predicated of God is exactly the same thing as power when predicated of man? Or why has it been said that creation ex nihilo—an absolutely first act of causation, is inconceivable by us, but from the impossibility of finding in human power an exact type of Divine power? To attribute discreditable motives to an opponent, even to account for unquestionable facts, is usually considered as an abuse of criticism. What shall we say when the facts are fictitious as well as the motives? With regard to Mr. Mansel, the only person who is included by name in this accusation, it is "worthy of remark," that the earliest mention of the obnoxious theory in his writings occurs in connection with a difficulty relating solely to the conception of infinite power, and not at all to the moral attributes of God.[BG]

[BG] See Prolegomena Logica, p. 77 (2nd ed., p. 85.)

Mr. Mill concludes this chapter with another instance of that ignoratio elenchi which has been so abundantly manifested throughout his previous criticisms. His opponent, he allows, "would and does admit that the qualities as conceived by us bear some likeness to the justice and goodness which belong to God, since man was made in God's image." But he considers that this "semi-concession" "destroys the whole fabric" of Mr. Mansel's argument. "The Divine goodness," he says, "which is said to be a different thing from human goodness, but of which the human conception of goodness is some imperfect reflexion or resemblance, does it agree with what men call goodness in the essence of the quality—in what constitutes it goodness? If it does, the 'Rationalists' are right; it is not illicit to reason from the one to the other. If not, the divine attribute, whatever else it may be, is not goodness, and ought not to be called by the name." Now the question really at issue is not whether the "Rationalist" argument is licit or illicit, but whether, in its lawful use, it is to be regarded as infallible or fallible. We have already quoted a portion of Mr. Mansel's language on this point; we will now quote two more passages, which, without any comment, will sufficiently show how utterly Mr. Mill has mistaken the purport of the argument which he has undertaken to examine.

"We do not certainly know the exact nature and operation of the moral attributes of God: we can but infer and conjecture from what we know of the moral attributes of man: and the analogy between the Finite and the Infinite can never be so perfect as to preclude all possibility of error in the process. But the possibility becomes almost a certainty, when any one human faculty is elevated by itself into an authoritative criterion of religious truth, without regard to those collateral evidences by which its decisions may be modified and corrected."[BH]... "Beyond question, every doubt which our reason may suggest in matters of religion is entitled to its due place in the examination of the evidences of religion; if we will treat it as a part only, and not the whole; if we will not insist on a positive solution of that which, it may be, is given us for another purpose than to be solved. It is reasonable to believe that, in matters of belief as well as of practice, God has not thought fit to annihilate the free will of man, but has permitted speculative difficulties to exist as the trial and the discipline of sharp and subtle intellects, as He has permitted moral temptations to form the trial and the discipline of strong and eager passions.... We do not doubt that the conditions of our moral trial tend towards good, and not towards evil; that human nature, even in its fallen state, bears traces of the image of its Maker, and is fitted to be an instrument in His moral government. And we believe this, notwithstanding the existence of passions and appetites which, isolated and uncontrolled, appear to lead in an opposite direction. Is it then more reasonable to deny that a system of revealed religion, whose unquestionable tendency as a whole is to promote the glory of God and the welfare of mankind, can have proceeded from the same Author, merely because we may be unable to detect the same character in some of its minuter features, viewed apart from the system to which they belong?"[BI]

[BH] Bampton Lectures, p. 157, Fourth Edition.

[BI] Bampton Lectures, p. 166, Fourth Edition.

Surely this is very different from denouncing all reasoning from human goodness to Divine as "illicit." To take a parallel case. The manufacture of gunpowder is a dangerous process, and, if carried on without due precautions, is very likely to lead to disastrous consequences. Surely it is one thing to point out what precautions are necessary, and what evils are to be apprehended from the neglect of them, and another to forbid the manufacture altogether. Mr. Mill does not seem to see the difference.

We have now considered in detail all that part of Mr. Mill's book which is devoted to the examination of Sir W. Hamilton's chief and most characteristic doctrines—those which constitute the Philosophy of the Conditioned. The remainder of the work, which deals chiefly with subordinate questions of psychology and logic, contains much from which we widely dissent, but which we cannot at present submit to a special examination. Nor is it necessary, so far as Sir W. Hamilton's reputation is concerned, that we should do so. If the Philosophy of the Conditioned is really nothing better than the mass of crudities and blunders which Mr. Mill supposes it to be, the warmest admirers of Hamilton will do little in his behalf, even should they succeed in vindicating some of the minor details of his teaching. If, on the other hand, it can be shown, as we have attempted to show, that Mr. Mill is utterly incapable of dealing with Hamilton's philosophy in its higher branches, his readers may be left to judge for themselves whether he is implicitly to be trusted as regards the lower. In point of fact, they will do Mr. Mill no injustice, if they regard the above specimens as samples of his entire criticism. We gladly except, as of a far higher order, those chapters in which he is content with stating his own views; but in the perpetual baiting of Sir W. Hamilton, which occupies the greater part of the volume, we recognise, in general, the same captiousness and the same incompetence which we have so often had occasion to point out in the course of our previous remarks.

It is, we confess, an unpleasant and an invidious task, to pick to pieces, bit by bit, the work of an author of high reputation. But Mr. Mill has chosen to put the question on this issue, and he has left those who dissent from him no alternative but to follow his example. He has tasked all the resources of minute criticism to destroy piece-meal the reputation of one who has hitherto borne an honoured name in philosophy: he has no right to complain if the same measure is meted to himself:—

"Neque enim lex aequior ulla Quam necis artifices arte perire sua."

But it is not so much the justice as the necessity of the case which we would plead as our excuse. Mr. Mill's method of criticism has reduced the question to a very narrow compass. Either Sir W. Hamilton, instead of being a great philosopher, is the veriest blunderer that ever put pen to paper, or the blunders are Mr. Mill's own. To those who accept the first of these alternatives it must always remain a marvel how Sir W. Hamilton could ever have acquired that reputation which compels even his critic to admit that "he alone, of our metaphysicians of this and the preceding generation, has acquired, merely as such, an European celebrity;" how he could have been designated by his illustrious opponent, Cousin, as the "greatest critic of our age," or described by the learned Brandis as "almost unparalleled in the profound knowledge of ancient and modern philosophy." The marvel may perhaps disappear, should it be the case, as we believe it to be, that the second alternative is the true one.

But even in this case, it should be borne in mind that the blow will by no means fall on Mr. Mill with the same weight with which he designed it to fall on the object of his criticism. Sir W. Hamilton had devoted his whole life to the study of metaphysics; he was probably more deeply read in that study than any of his contemporaries; and if all his reading could produce nothing better than the confusion and self-contradiction which Mr. Mill imputes to him, the result would be pitiable indeed. Mr. Mill, on the other hand, we strongly suspect, despises metaphysics too much to be at the pains of studying them at all, and seems to think that a critic is duly equipped for his task with that amount of knowledge which, like Dogberry's reading and writing, "comes by nature." His work has a superficial cleverness which, together with the author's previous reputation, will insure it a certain kind of popularity; but we venture to predict that its estimation by its readers will be in the inverse ratio to their knowledge of the subject. But Mr. Mill's general reputation rests on grounds quite distinct from his performances in metaphysics; and though we could hardly name one of his writings from whose main principles we do not dissent, there is hardly one which is not better fitted to sustain his character as a thinker than this last, in which the fatal charms of the goddess Necessity seem to have betrayed her champion into an unusual excess of polemical zeal, coupled, it must be added, with an unusual deficiency of philosophical knowledge.

THE END