An Introduction to Philosophy, George Stuart Fullerton [books to read in your 20s .TXT] 📗

takes up and discusses the question whether we can prove the existence of any mind beyond our own, does not seriously doubt whether there are other minds or not. It is not so much what we know, as how we know it, that interests him.

But with the existence of God it is different. That men do not think that an examination of the evidence can be dispensed with is evident from the books that are written and lectures that are delivered year after year. There seem to be honest differences of opinion, and we feel compelled to offer men proofs—to show that belief is reasonable.

How shall we determine whether this world in which we live is such a world that we may take it as a revelation of God? And of what sort of a Being are we speaking when we use the word "God"? The question is not an idle one, for men's conceptions have differed widely. There is the savage, with a conception that strikes the modern civilized man as altogether inadequate; there is the thoughtful man of our day, who has inherited the reflections of those who have lived in the ages gone by.

And there is the philosopher, or, perhaps, I should rather say, there are the philosophers. Have they not conceived of God as a group of abstract notions, or as a something that may best be described as the Unknowable, or as the Substance which is the identity of thought and extension, or as the external world itself? All have not sinned in this way, but some have, and they are not men whom we can ignore.

If we turn from all such notions and, in harmony with the faith of the great body of religious men in the ages past, some of whom were philosophers but most of whom were not, cling close to the notion that God is a mind or spirit, and must be conceived according to the analogy, at least, of the human mind, the mind we most directly know—if we do this, we are still confronted by problems to which the thoughtful man cannot refuse attention.

What do we mean by a mind? This is a question to which one can scarcely give an intelligent answer unless one has exercised one's faculty of philosophic reflection. And upon what sort of evidence does one depend in establishing the existence of minds other than one's own? This has been discussed at length in Chapter X, and the problem is certainly a metaphysical one. And if we believe that the Divine Mind is not subject to the limitations which confine the human, how shall we conceive it? The question is an important one. Some of the philosophers and theologians who have tried to free the Divine Mind from such limitations have taken away every positive mark by which we recognize a mind to be such, and have left us a naked "Absolute" which is no better than a labeled vacuum.

Moreover, we cannot refuse to consider the question of God's relation to the world. This seems to lead back to the broader question: How are we to conceive of any mind as related to the world? What is the relation between mind and matter? If any subject of inquiry may properly be called metaphysical, surely this may be.

We see, then, that there is little wonder that the thoughtful consideration of the facts and doctrines of religion has taken its place among the philosophical sciences. Aesthetics has been called applied psychology; and I think it is scarcely too much to say that we are here concerned with applied metaphysics, with the attempt to obtain a clear understanding of the significance of the facts of religion in the light of those ultimate analyses which reveal to us the real nature of the world of matter and of minds.

CHAPTER XXI PHILOSOPHY AND THE OTHER SCIENCES

78. THE PHILOSOPHICAL AND NON-PHILOSOPHICAL SCIENCES.—We have seen in the preceding chapters that certain of the sciences can scarcely be cultivated successfully in complete separation from philosophy. It has also been indicated in various places that the relation of other sciences to philosophy is not so close.

Thus, the sciences of arithmetic, algebra, and geometry may be successfully prosecuted by a man who has reflected little upon the nature of numbers and who has never asked himself seriously what he means by space. The assumptions which he is justified in making, and the kind of operations which he has the right to perform, do not seem, as a rule, to be in doubt.

So it is also in the sciences of chemistry and physics. There is nothing to prevent the chemist or the physicist from being a philosopher, but he is not compelled to be one. He may push forward the investigations proper to his profession regardless of the type of philosophy which it pleases him to adopt. Whether he be a realist or an idealist, a dualist or a monist, he should, as chemist or physicist, treat the same sort of facts in the same sort of a way. His path appears to be laid out for him, and he can do work the value of which is undisputed by traveling quietly along it, and without stopping to consider consciously what kind of a path it is. There are many who work in this way, and they succeed in making important contributions to human knowledge.

Such sciences as these I call the non-philosophical sciences to distinguish them from the group of sciences I have been discussing at length. What marks them out is, that the facts with which the investigator has to deal are known by him with sufficient clearness to leave him usually in little doubt as to the use which he can make of them. His knowledge is clear enough for the purpose in hand, and his work is justified by its results. What is the relation of such sciences as these to philosophy?

79. THE STUDY OF SCIENTIFIC PRINCIPLES AND METHODS.—It is one thing to have the instinct of the investigator and to be able to feel one's way along the road that leads to new knowledge of a given kind, and it is another thing to have the reflective turn of mind that makes one clearly conscious of just what one has been doing and how one has been doing it. Men reasoned before there was a science of logic, and the sciences made their appearance before what may be called the logic of the sciences had its birth.

"It may be truly asserted," writes Professor Jevons,[1] "that the rapid progress of the physical sciences during the last three centuries has not been accompanied by a corresponding advance in the theory of reasoning. Physicists speak familiarly of Scientific Method, but they could not readily describe what they mean by that expression. Profoundly engaged in the study of particular classes of natural phenomena, they are usually too much engrossed in the immense and ever accumulating details of their special sciences to generalize upon the methods of reasoning which they unconsciously employ. Yet few will deny that these methods of reasoning ought to be studied, especially by those who endeavor to introduce scientific order into less successful and methodical branches of knowledge."

Professor Jevons suggests that it is lack of time and attention that prevents the scientific investigator from attaining to a clear conception of what is meant by scientific method. This has something to do with it, but I think we may also maintain that the work of the investigator and that of the critic are somewhat different in kind, and require somewhat different powers of mind. We find a parallel to this elsewhere. Both in literature and in art men may be in the best sense productive, and yet may be poor critics. We are often wofully disappointed when we attend a lecture on poetry by a poet, or one on painting by an artist.

It may be said: If what is maintained above regarding the possibility of prosecuting scientific researches without having recourse to reflective thought is true, why should the man of science care whether the principles and methods of the non-philosophical sciences are investigated or are merely taken for granted?

I answer: It should be observed that the statements made in the last section were somewhat guarded. I have used the expressions "as a rule" and "usually." I have spoken thus because one can work in the way described, without danger of error, only where a beaten track has been attained and is followed. In Chapter XVI it was pointed out that even in the mathematical sciences one may be forced to reflect upon the significance of one's symbols. As I write this, a pamphlet comes to hand which is concerned to prove that "every cause is potentially capable of producing several effects," and proves it by claiming that the square root of four ([square root symbol]4) is a cause which may have as effect either two (2) or minus two (-2).

Is this mathematical reasoning? Are mathematical relations ever those of cause and effect? And may one on the basis of such reasonings claim that in nature the relation of cause and effect is not a fixed and invariable one?

Even where there is a beaten track, there is some danger that men may wander from it. And on the confines of our knowledge there are fields in which the accepted road is yet to be established. Science makes constant use of hypotheses as an aid to investigation. What hypotheses may one frame, and what are inadmissible? How important an investigation of this question may be to the worker in certain branches of science will be clear to one who will read with attention Professor Poincaré's brilliant little work on "Science and Hypothesis." [2]

There is no field in art, literature, or science in which the work of the critic is wholly superfluous. "There are periods in the growth of science," writes Professor Pearson in his deservedly popular work, "The Grammar of Science," [3] "when it is well to turn our attention from its imposing superstructure and to examine carefully its foundations. The present book is primarily intended as a criticism of the fundamental concepts of modern science, and as such finds its justification in the motto placed upon its title-page." The motto in question is a quotation from the French philosopher Cousin: "Criticism is the life of science."

We have seen in Chapter XVI that a work on logic may be a comparatively simple thing. It may describe the ways in which men reason when they reason correctly, and may not go deep into metaphysical questions. On the other hand, it may be deeply metaphysical.

When we approach the part of logic which deals with the principles and methods of the sciences, this difference is forced upon our attention. One may set forth the assumptions upon which a science rests, and may describe the methods of investigation employed, without going much below the plane of common thought. As a type of such works I may mention the useful treatise by Professor Jevons cited earlier in this chapter.

On the other hand, our investigations may be more profound, and we may scrutinize the very foundations upon which a science rests. Both the other works referred to illustrate this method of procedure.

For example, in "The Grammar of Science," we find our author discussing, under the title "The Facts of Science," such problems as the following: the Reality of Things; Sense-impressions and Consciousness; the Nature of Thought; the External Universe; Sensations as the Ultimate Source of the Materials of Knowledge; and the Futility of "Things-in-themselves." The philosophical character of such discussions does not need to be pointed out at length.

[1] "The Principles Of Science," London, 1874, Preface.

[2] English translation, New York, 1905.

[3] Second edition, London, 1900.

VI. ON THE STUDY OF PHILOSOPHY CHAPTER XXII THE VALUE OF THE STUDY OF PHILOSOPHY

80. THE QUESTION OF PRACTICAL UTILITY.—Why should men study philosophy? The question is a natural one, for man is a rational being, and when the worth of a thing is not at once evident to him, he usually calls for proof of its worth. Our professional schools, with the exception of schools of theology, usually pay little attention to philosophical studies; but such studies occupy a strong position in our colleges, and a vast number of persons not students in the technical sense think it worth while to occupy themselves