{"collection":"scripture-revelation","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/wikisource_The_Religious_Aspect_of_Philosophy_Chapter_9/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/wikisource_The_Religious_Aspect_of_Philosophy_Chapter_9","id":"wikisource_The_Religious_Aspect_of_Philosophy_Chapter_9","license":"Public Domain / CC-BY-SA (see source)","rights_basis":"wikisource_site_inclusion_policy","source":"wikisource","source_url":"https://en.wikisource.org/wiki/The_Religious_Aspect_of_Philosophy/Chapter_9","summary":null,"tags":["Headers_applying_DefaultSort_key","Subpages"],"text":"CHAPTER IX.\n\nTHE WORLD OF POSTULATES.\n\nDas best\u00e4ndige Wetzen der Messer ist langweilig, wenn man Nichts zu schneiden vorhat. \u2014 Lotze, Metaphysik.\n\nWhat\u2019s so false as truth is\nFalse to thee?\n\nBrowning.\n\nIf the reader has become thoroughly weary of the\nworld of doubt, we are only glad of the fact. Armed\nwith a gemiine philosophy, a man may indeed go\nback to that world, and find in it an expression of\nideal truth in empirical form. We hope to have\nsuch a right ourselves in time; but, without a well\nthought out philosophy, a man venturing into the\nworld of empirical facts to find there any religious\nsignificance actually discovers himself to be in a nest\nof hornets; and he deserves as much. We desired\nto bring the reader to feel this with us; else our\nown prudent flight from that world to another might\nseem to him unnecessary. Now we are ready to\ncome nearer to our former question. What right\nhas any one to assume that empirical external world\nat all as having any absolute truth? \u201cO thou that\nhast troubled us,\u201d we may say, \u201cwhat art thou at\nbottom more than our own assumption?\u201d What\nright has that external world to be the sole region where we could seek the religious truth, when\nperchance the external world, as we assumed it, is not\na truth at all? Let us consider once more our steps.\nPerchance the religiously inspiring reality is in some\nhigher world. If we are only skeptical enough,\nperchance we shall find that Reality. Then, indeed,\nthe old assumption of an external world of empirical\nfacts may remain a part of our future thought,\nbut it will get a new sense, and occupy a new place.\n\nThe first answer that occurs to this our question\nabout the meaning of the external world that has\nso far troubled us, is this: The assumed world is\nno fixed datum, to which we are bound to submit at\nall hazards, but a postulate, which is made to\nsatisfy certain familiar human needs. If this postulate\nis found to have no religious significance, we may\nsupplement the doubt thus arising by remembering\nthat we who postulated once have the right to\npostulate again. Our religiously satisfactory truth may\nbe reached, not by hypotheses about powers in the\nempirical world, but by a deeper faith in something\nthat is eternal, and behind or above the world of the\nsenses.\n\nThis view gives us a new world, the world of the\nPostulates. We cannot be content to remain in this\nworld, but we must pass through it on our way\nupwards. Let us hear it described.\n\nI.\n\nThe world of Doubt has passed before us, a huge\nmass of inexplicable facts. Here and there we find a connection; we hope that we shall soon find more\nconnection; but still the vast plan, if indeed there\nbe a plan, we search for in vain. But now, strangely\nenough, all this doubt affects in no wise the willing\ntrustfulness of our devotion to the interests, not only\nof common life, but also of science. The doubt\nconfuses us only when we talk of leligion. That the\nworld as a whole is dark, nobody admits more\ncheerfully than does the modern scientific man, even when\nhe looks to his science for all his religious consolation.\nFor he seeks no consolation save what the\nphenomena as such furnish. But his philosophical\ndoubt about the ultimate foundation of science is\nno check to his scientific ambition. He believes in\nscience just as ardently as if he did not in the very\nfirst breath of each new philosophical dispute\ndeclare that the real world is unknowable. His faith\nin the methods of his specialty is as firm as his\nindifference to all extra-scientific speculation. His\nwork is in fact done with a kind of instinctive\nconfidence in himself and his fellows. The instinct is\nno doubt highly trained, but it remains an instinct,\nand a delightful one it is to him. The untrained\ninstincts of the unscientific man must indeed be\ncriticised and altered in many respects ere they can\nserve the purposes of science; but, after all the\ncriticisms and alterations, the instinct remains with\nalmost all men an instinct, \u2014 useful, pleasing, yes,\nindispensable; but its philosophical justification few\npeople care to know, while its self-confidence every\nscientific essay, or lecture, or instructor will attest.\nWhy now is it that, trusting as we all do this scientific instinct, we all feel it hard to give a like trust\nto the religious instinct, whose most general tendency\nis to have some sort of faith in the goodness of\nthings? Why is it that the doubtfulness and the\ncontradictions of the real world seem to everybody\nto throw a cloud upon religion, even when it is not\nsupernatural religion, but to have no significance\nwhatever for the bases of science? This scientific\nnotion of a world of law, all of whose facts could\nconceivably be predicted by one formula, why does\nthat remain in our minds untouched by the doubts\nof the skeptical philosophers, while the same\nskepticism at once seems to remove from us that trust in\nthe moral goodness of things which religion has\ntried to establish in our hearts? Shall the world\nbe indifferent to one set of our ideals, and not to\nanother? Shall the moral value of things be dark,\nand not also their value for the purposes of science?\nWhy is the one doctrine so different from the other?\nYou are placed in a world of confusion, and you\nassert that in its ultimate and eternal nature it answers\nyour moral needs. That seems presumptuous. You\ndid not make that world. How do you know whether\nit cares for your moral ideals? Very well then, be\nimpartial. You are placed in a world of confusion,\nand you assert that it answers your intellectual\nneeds, namely, that it is a world of order, whose\nfacts could be reduced to some rational and\nintelligible unity. What business have you to do that? In\nboth cases you transcend experience. Nature gives\nyou in experience partial evil that you cannot in all\ncases perceive to be universal good. Nature also gives you in experience partial chaos that you\ncannot in all cases perceive to be universal order. But\nunwaveringly you insist that nature is orderly, that\nthe chaos is an illusion; and still you do not feel\nready to insist that the partial evil is universal good.\nWhy is this so? Is the ethical side of reality less\nimportant than the other? Or is it the very\nimportance of the religious aspect of things that makes\nus more ready to doubt the truth of this aspect?\n\nSuch questions occur to us as suggesting a possible\nway out of our difficulties. It is not exactly our\ndesired way, but is it not possibly a good way?\nScience, namely, uses a certain kind of faith, whenever\nsuch faith is practically necessary. This scientific\nfaith is indeed no faith in particular uninvestigated\nfacts, but it is a faith in general methods and\nprinciples. The creed of science knows of no dogmas\nabout unexperienced single facts, as such; but it does\nknow of dogmas about the general form of the laws\nthat must be assumed to govern all experience. Now\nwhy may not religion be reduced to certain essential\ngeneral and fundamental moral demands, that we\nmust make in the presence of reality? Why are not\nthese a legitimate, yes, a morally necessary object of\nfaith? Why, as the scientific man postulates a\ntheoretical rationality in the world, may not we\npostulate a moral rationality in the world? These\nquestions stand in our path. Might not the answer to\nthem transform our barren doubts into something\nless disheartening?\n\nWe see what all this supposed religious faith\nwould mean. It would not be a faith in any particular facts of experience that might have for us\npersonally a selfish value, whether greater or less. It\nwould be, like the scientific faith, wholly general. It\nwould demand that the world in its entirety should\nbe regarded as in some higher sense morally\nrational. It would say: The real world must be,\nwhatever its true nature, at least as high in the moral\nscale as my highest ideals of goodness. Have we a\nright to such a faith? Let us cautiously consider\nthis point.\n\nBut at once we must distinguish the proposed\nreligious faith from what we should call mere blind\nfaith. Blind faith in what we cannot establish is\nindeed inadmissible. But then, is there not another\nkind of faith, the kind that Kant used in his\npractical philosophy? To this may we not now turn?\nPerhaps the world of the powers, approached in the\nusual way, is dark, but the world for the practical\nreason may be opened in another way. Kant said, in\neffect: \u201cSuch and such supersensual realities, of\nreligious significance, cannot be theoretically proven;\nbut we can see why we ought to postulate their\nexistence, that is, we can see why we ought to act as\nif they existed. Behind the veil of sense, we must\npostulate that there is an intelligible world, in which\nall is harmony, and in which the highest good is\nrealized.\u201d May we not also try with Kant to do\nthis?\n\nWe shall in any case find this effort, an effort\nthat has been so often made since Kant, a subject\nwell worth our study and careful examination. In\ntruth it is not by itself satisfactory; but we shall see that it enters as one moment into the higher\nview that we shall hereafter reach. So, in our own\nway, we shall now try to answer the question\nsuggested to us by Kant\u2019s method. Does not then the\nreligious aspect of the world lie in the fact that,\ndespite the contradictions of the world of sense, we\nmay, and indeed, morally speaking, must postulate,\nthat the Eternal, of which this world is the mere\nshow, is in itself absolutely righteous? We shall\nnot be able to answer this question with a simple\naffirmative; but still, postulates must enter in some\nwise into every moment of our lives, and must\ntherefore have some value in religion.\n\nII.\n\nIn the last chapter we sought for a demonstration\nof religious truth, and found none. But perhaps it\nwas not demonstration that we should have sought.\nPossibly religion may be content to rest on\npostulates.\n\nA postulate is a mental way of behavior. In so\nfar it is like all other thought. In general, to\nbelieve that a thing exists is to act as if it existed.\nBut the act may be forced upon one, or it may be\nfreely chosen. One cannot fail to act upon the\nprinciple that 2 + 2 = 4, so soon as he perceives it. But\none may voluntarily determine to act in a given way,\nnot being rationally forced so to do, and well\nknowing the risk. In such cases one voluntarily takes\nto himself the form of belief called a postulate.\nThus, apart from any philosophic theory, we all postulate a certain kind of uniformity in nature. We\ndo so, whenever we reflect upon the matter,\nvoluntarily. For we then say that surprises are always\npossible, and that any law may have exceptions, but\nthat we must act as if we knew certain laws to have\nno possible exceptions. Postulates, however, are not\nblind faith. Postulates are voluntary assumptions\nof a risk, for the sake of a higher end. Passive faith\ndares not face doubt. The postulate faces doubt,\nand says: \u201cSo long as thou canst not make thyself\nan absolute and certain negative, I propose to act as\nif thou wert worthless, although I do well see thy\nforce.\u201d Blind faith is emotion, and often cowardly\nemotion. The postulate is deliberate and courageous\nvolition. Blind faith says: \u201cI dare not question.\u201d\nThe postulate says: \u201cI dare be responsible for\nassuming.\u201d Examples of both are very common.\nBlind faith the fond parent has, who says of bis\nwicked son: \u201cI know that he must be good, hence\nI will not suspect him, nor train him; I will not\nwatch him, nor warn others against him.\u201d A\npostulate the wise parent makes, who sends his\nfull-grown son boldly out into the world, with the best\nattainable safeguards, saying: \u201cIt is useless to keep\nhim longer in leading-strings, or to protect him from\nthe world. It is now his place to fight his own\nbattles, since I have done what I could to get him ready.\nI postulate that he will win the fight; I treat him,\nand must treat him, as if he were sure to win,\nalthough I well know the risks.\u201d The sea-captain\nbeginning his voyage postulates that he can get\nthrough. The general postulates that he will be victorious. The Prime Minister of a country\npostulates that he can do his country better service than\ncould the Opposition. We all postulate that our\nlives are worth the trouble. Yet we all know\nperfectly well that many just such postulates must in\nthe nature of things be blunders. But they imply\nnot blind faith, but active faith. With blind faith\nlittle good is done in the world; without active faith,\nexpressed in postulates, very little practical good\ncan be done from day to day. Blind faith is the\nostrich behind the bush. The postulate stands out\nlike the lion against the hunters. The wise shall live\nby postulates.\n\nIII.\n\nBut how is this postulating activity actually\nrelated to our knowledge of reality? Much more\nclosely than one might suppose. Very much of our\nthought naturally rests upon a blind faith, or upon\nwhat many take to be a blind faith; but this, when\nwe reflect upon it with due attention to the office it\nfills, is transformed before our eyes into practically\nunavoidable postulates. Such are the assumptions\nupon which our science rests in forming its ideal of\nan \u201cuniversal formula.\u201d There may indeed be some\ndeeper basis for these postidates of science. But\nmost men know nothing of this basis. And so, when\nwe accepted in our last chapter these postulates, we\nhad to admit that they are a kind of faith. If we\nthen nevertheless objected to certain religious\ndoctrines that they rest on insufficient evidence, we did\nthis because they set themselves up as dogmas. With further consideration, we might come to accept\nsome one of them again in the form, not of a\ndemonstrable dogma, but of a practically unavoidable\npostulate, uncertain of course, but taken and to be taken\non risk; just as every one of us goes through the\nworld taking all sorts of risks day by day.\nAnything not contradictory may be a possible object of\npostulates\u00a0; although, again, every postulate is to be\nassumed only after careful criticism, and only\nbecause we cannot do better.\n\nTo do justice then to the proper office of\npostulates in our religious theory, we must sooner or later\nconsider in what cases they naturally arise, what is\nthe proper extent of their use, what is the basis upon\nwhich they can be made, in any special case, to rest;\nand, finally, whether, in view of all this, we can give\nthem any important place in our religious doctrine.\nWe confess at once that we want something much\nbetter than a postulate as the basis of our religion,\nin case we can get it. If postulates are to have any\npart in our religion, we want them to be justified by\nsome ultimate religious certainty that is more than\na postulate. We shall investigate all that in time.\nWe shall see what we shall see. Meanwhile, what\nis the work of postulates in the actual daily life of\nhuman thought?\n\nPopular belief about an external world is for the\nfirst an active assumption or acknowledgment of\nsomething: more than the data of consciousness.\nWhat is directly given in our minds is not external.\nAll direct data are internal facts; and in the\nstrictest sense all data are direct. Suppose a merely passive acceptance of what is in consciousness, and you\nhave no belief in an external world. An addition to\nthe data of consciousness, a more or less clearly\nvoluntary reaction, is involved in your idea of external\nreality. The truth of this principle appears when\nyour belief in any particular object is called in\nquestion. You hold that you see yonder a snowy\nmountain. Your companion insists that beyond the wide\nmisty valley there is to be seen only a gray cloud.\nYou reassert your belief, and in the reassertion feel\nmore definitely than at first the active addition of\nyour own belief to the meagre data of sense. The\naddition existed, however, in your first assertion.\nOr again, one man is trying, perchance in sport, to\nmake another doubt the existence of material\nobjects. \u201cThere is no external matter,\u201d says the first.\n\u201cThere are but these states of consciousness in our\nminds. Nothing beyond them corresponds to them.\u201d\nThe second, maintaining the position of the man of\ncommon sense, retorts sharply: \u201cDoubtless I cannot\nrefute altogether your fine-spun arguments; but they\nare nevertheless nonsense. For I persist in believing\nin this world of sense. I live in it, I work for it, my\nfellows believe in it, our hearts are bound up in it,\nour success depends upon our faith. Only dreamers\ndoubt it. I am not a dreamer. Here is a stone;\nI hit it. Here is a precipice; I fear and shun it.\nMy strongest conviction is concerned with the\nexistence of this world of sense. Do your worst; I am\nnot afraid of talk.\u201d Thus then by every device of\nthe active spirit, by reminding himself of his most\ncherished interests, of his affections and hatreds, by arousing his social sentiments, by bodily acts, the\npractical man preserves himself from fantastical\nspeculation. When better-trained thinkers call the belief\nin an external reality \u201ca natural conviction, to be\nretained until we are compelled to abandon it,\u201d or \u201ca\nconvenient working hypothesis, to be received on the\ntestimony of consciousness, testimony assumed to be\ntrustworthy until the opposite is proven,\u201d what are\nthese but similar practical considerations, appeals to\nthe will? Concerning data of immediate consciousness\nsuch remarks would be wholly out of place.\nThat I see a certain color at this moment is not a\n\u201cconvenient working hypothesis.\u201d Is consciousness\nmerely a \u201cpresumably trustworthy witness\u201d when it\ntestifies to the pangs of toothache? Nobody could\nbalance evidence as to the reality of his sensation\nqu\u00e2 sensation when consciousness is filled with the\nsound of a street-organ. Sound, color, pang, these\nare data, not merely things believed in. But the\nexternal world \u2014 that is actively accepted as being\nsymbolized or indicated by the present consciousness,\nnot as being given in the present consciousness.\n\nIn short, the popular assertion of an external\nworld, being an assertion of something beyond the\ndata of consciousness, must begin in an activity of\njudgment that does more than merely reduce present\ndata to order. Such an assertion must be an active\nconstruction of non-data. We do not receive in our\nsenses, but we posit through our judgment, whatever\nexternal world there may for us be. If there is\nreally a deeper basis for this postulate of ours, still,\nat the outset, it is just a postulate.\n\nAll theories, all hypotheses as to the external\nworld, ought to face this fact of thought. If the\nhistory of popular speculation on these topics could be\nwritten, how much of cowardice and shuffling would\nbe found in the behavior of the natural mind before\nthe question: \u201cHow dost thou know of an external\nreality?\u201d Instead of simply and plainly answering:\n\u201cI mean by the external world in the first place\nsomething that I accept or demand, that I posit,\npostulate, actively construct on the basis of sense-data,\u201d\nthe natural man gives us all kinds of vague\ncompromise answers: \u201cI believe in the external\nreality with a reasonable degree of confidence; the\nexperience of mankind renders the existence of\nexternal reality ever more and more probable; the\nCreator cannot have intended to deceive us; it is\nunnatural to doubt as to external reality; only young\npeople and fantastic persons doubt the existence of\nthe external world; no man in his senses doubts the\nexternal reality of the world; science would be\nimpossible were there no external world; morality is\nundermined by doubts as to the external world; the\nimmovable confidence that we all have in the\nprinciple of causality implies the fixity of our belief in\nan external cause of our sensations.\u201d Where shall\nthese endless turnings and twistings have an end?\nThe habits of the law-courts as condensed into \u201crules\nof evidence,\u201d the traditional rules of debate, the\nfashion of appealing to the \u201cgood sense\u201d of honorable\ngentlemen opposite, the motives of shame and\nfear, the dread of being called \u201cfantastical,\u201d Philistine\ndesire to think with the majority, Philistine terror of all revolutionary suggestions, the fright or\nthe anger of a man at finding some metaphysician\ntrying to question what seem to be the foundations\nupon which one\u2019s bread winning depends, \u2014 all these\nlesser motives are appealed to, and the one ultimate\nmotive is neglected. The ultimate motive with the\nman of every-day life is the will to have an external\nworld. Whatever consciousness contains, reason\nwill persist in spontaneously adding the thought:\n\u201cBut there shall ba something beyond this.\u201d The\nexternal reality as such (e.g. the space beyond the\nfarthest star, any space not accessible, even whatever\nis not at any moment given in so far as it is viewed\nfrom that moment, in particular every past event) is\nnever a datum. We construct but do not receive\nthe external reality. The \u201cimmovable certainty\u201d is\nnot such a dead passive certainty as that with which\nwe receive a pain or an electric shock. The\npopular assurance of an external world is the fixed\ndetermination to make one, now and henceforth.\n\nIn the general popular conceptions of reality we\nfind then the first use of postulates. We have as yet\nno justification for them. But even thus we get no\nadequate idea of their use and of their number. We\nmust look at the facts of every-day mental life a\nlittle more closely. For there is a curious tendency\nof many to make these postulates appear something\nelse than what they are. Often they are interpreted\nas if they were no postulates at all, but data of\nsense. Often, again, their active nature is\ndisregarded in yet another way, and they appear as blind\npassive faith. Such in fact they must appear if we reflect upon their mere content, and not upon the\nprocesses by which we get them. But if we interpret\nthem rightly, we shall see that they ought to be\nregarded as beliefs, taken for the first on risk, and\nbecause the risk is worth taking.\n\nIV.\n\nSometimes we hear men asserting that their\nbeliefs are independent of their will. Such a man\nwill express himself in some such way as the following: \u2014\n\n\u201cI try to conquer prejudice; but having done\nthis, I can do no more. My belief, whatever it is,\nforms itself in me. I look on. My will has\nnothing to do with the matter. I can will to walk or\neat; but I cannot will to believe. I might as well\nwill that my blood should circulate.\u201d\n\nBut is this expression a fair one? Does such a\nman really remain passive in the struggle that goes\non within him? We think not. These beliefs in\nsuch a man have resulted, we hold, from a sort of\nstruggle between him and the surrounding world.\nThe world has tried sometimes to check his thought,\nand to confine it to one channel; sometimes to\nconfuse his thought, and to scatter it into spray before\nthe quick, heavy blows of innumerable, disconnected\nsense apparitions. But the man, if he is a man of\nenergy, has controlled the current of his thought.\nHe has fought hard, now for freedom from oppressive\nnarrowness of thought, now for wholeness and\nunity of thought; and perhaps he has in so far conquered as to be the master of a manly and many-sided\nsystem of doctrine. We think him responsible\nfor this system; and we hold that any such man\nought to admit the responsibility.\n\nTo study briefly the nature of the process involved\nin all such cases will be important for our whole\ndoctrine. We shall see thereby how much our\ntheory of the world must itself tend to fall under the\nhead of the purely practical. We shall appreciate\nalso the limitations of ordinary thought, and the\nneed of some higher ideal standard to rescue us from\nthe pure subjectivity of mere postulates. And we\nshall be contributing by the way to a question of\napplied ethics, the question of the morality of belief.\n\nEvery one recognizes that at least our more\nabstract knowledge depends largely upon our own\nmental activity. Knowing is not mere passive\nreception of facts or of truths. Learning is not solely\nan affair of the memory. The man that without\nreflection commits things to memory is justly\ncompared to a parrot, and might yet more justly be\ncompared to the sponge of Hamlet\u2019s figure: \u201cIt is\nbut squeezing you, and, sponge, you shall be dry\nagain.\u201d No knowledge, then, without active\nhospitality in the mind that receives the knowledge.\nBut as soon as we recognize in mental life this our\npower to modify our knowledge by means of our own\nactivity, just so soon do all the old comparisons of\nthe mind to a wax tablet, to a sheet of paper, or to\nother like passive subjects of impression, lose for us\ntheir meaning. Mental life becomes for us, in view\nof these facts, a field of constant activity. The commonest processes of knowledge acquire a new\nsignificance.\n\nTwo kinds of activity are concerned in the\nattainment of knowledge. One kind consists in simply\nreceiving impressions from without, such as sensations,\nor, on a higher plane, statements of truth; the\nother consists in modifying and in organizing these\nimpressions. The receptive activity is partly a\nphysical activity, since the one who receives information\nmust use his eyes and ears, must keep awake, must\nat times move about; and this receptive activity is\nalso partly made up of the mechanical processes of\nthe memory. Association by contiguity, or learning\nby rote, is in the main a receptive process, though\nthis process of reception requires some active effort\non the part of the receiver. Committing words and\nsentences to memory is often hard labor, as we all\nof us learned when we first were tortured with\nill-wrought geographies and grammars, or with\nmerciless Latin declensions and conjugations. But of the\nwhole of this receptive activity we shall make no\nfurther mention in this connection. Simply\nreceiving, keeping your mind in a submissive attitude,\nturning your eyes in the proper direction, using your\nears, writing down your notes, memorizing whatever\nneeds memorizing \u2014 all this is essential to\nknowledge, but has no reactive effect, does not modify the\nform or the matter of your knowledge. Secondly,\nhowever, knowledge is determined for each of us\nby his own reaction upon what he receives; and\nthis second mentioned kind of mental activity, that\nwhich forms our topic at present, consists in a modification as well as in an organization of what we have\nreceived from without. All processes of reasoning,\nand so all original discoveries in science and in\nphilosophy, all speculations, theories, dogmas,\ncontroversies, and not only these complex processes, but, as\nwe shall see, even simple judgments, commonplace\nbeliefs, momentary acts of attention, involve such\nindependent reaction upon the material furnished to\nus from without. The nature of this reaction we\nare further to examine.\n\nLet us consider simpler forms of knowledge.\nSense-impressions constantly suggest to us thoughts;\nin fact, we have few thoughts that are not either\nimmediately suggested by sense-impressions, or else\nsustained in their course by a continuous stream of\nsuitable sense-impressions. To carry on even a train\nof abstract reasoning, sense-impressions either\npresent or repeated seem necessary as supports. But\nwhen sense-impressions come to us, what transforms\nthem into thought?\n\nThe answer is, First of all, attention, an active\nmental process. The sense-impression is itself not\nyet knowledge. A sense-impression to which we\ngive no attention slips through consciousness as a\nman\u2019s hand through water. Nothing grasps and\nretains it. Little effect is produced by it. It is\nunknown. You cannot even tell what it is. For to\nknow what such an unnoticed impression is would\nbe to pay attention to it. But let us now consider\nsome familiar examples of the working of attention.\nA simple instance will bring home to us how the\nboundaries of our consciousness are crowded with unknown impressions \u2014 unknown, because not attended\nto; but yet in some inexplicable way a part of our\nconsciousness, since an effort of attention serves to\nbring them, any one of them, clearly into mental\nvision. At this instant you are looking at\nsomething. Now, without moving your eyes, try, by\nmerely attending to your visual impressions, to say\nwhat is now in the field of vision, and where is the\nboundary line of the field of vision. The\nexperiment is a little hard, because our eyes, condensed\nembodiments as they are of tireless curiosity, are\nalways restless, and rebel when you try to hold them\nfast. But conquer them for an instant, and watch\nthe result. As your attention roams about the\nartificially fixed visual field, you will at first, indeed, be\nconfused by the vagueness of all but the centre; but\nsoon you will find, to your surprise, that there are\nmore different impressions in the field than you at\nfirst can distinguish. One after another, many\nvarious impressions will appear. But notice: you can\nkeep your attention fixed on only a portion of the\nfield at a time. The rest of the field is always lost\nin a dim haze. You must be receiving impressions\nall the time from all points of the field. But all of\nthese, except the few to which you pay attention,\nnearly or quite disappear in the dim thickets that\nseem to surround the little forest-clearing made by\nour attentive consciousness. A like experiment can\nbe tried with the sense of hearing, when you are in\na large room full of people who are talking all around\nyou in many independent groups. A mass of sound\ncomes to your ear. Consciousness interferes to make you pick out one or another of the series of sounds,\nan act which is indeed made possible by the natural\nanalytic tendency of the human auditory sense, but\nwhich does not take place without a noticeable effort\nof attention. When you are learning a foreign\nlanguage, and are for a while much among those who\nspeak it, there comes a time when your ear and\nmind are well enough trained to follow and\nunderstand ordinary speakers with only a little effort of\nattention; but yet, at this stage, you are able, by\nsimply withdrawing your attention a mere trifle, to\nlet very common phrases run through your sense\nwithout your understanding them one whit. You\ncan thus, by a slight change of attention, convert\nthe foreign language from a jargon into a familiar\nspeech, and back again into a jargon, just as, in the\nfixed visual field, you can make yourself see an\nobject pretty plainly, or lose it altogether, by ceasing\nto give attention.\n\nAll these instances, which could be indefinitely\nmultiplied, prove, first, that what we call attention\nmodifies the knowledge that we at any moment get;\nand secondly, that this modification, through attention,\nmay take place without any change in the\nimpressions that at any moment come from without.\nThe first stage in getting knowledge from bare\nsense-impressions is therefore the modification of sense by\nattention \u2014 a process belonging wholly to the\nsubjective side; i.e. to our own minds.\n\nBut what is attention? and how does it modify\nsensation? Apparently, attention in the previous\ninstances has been merely a power to increase or to diminish the intensity of impressions. But is this\nall that attention does? No: there are many cases\nin which attention directly affects the quality, at\nleast of our complex impressions. This direct\nmodification is commonly attended by some alteration of\nour emotional state. It is a familiar fact, that in\nlistening to a series of regular and even beats, such\nas the strokes of an engine, or of a pendulum, or the\nticking of a watch, we have a tendency to modify\nthe impressions by introducing into their series the\nmore elaborate regularity of rhythm. In paying\nattention to them, we increase, at our pleasure, the\nintensity of every third or fourth beat as heard, and\nso make a rhythm, or series of measures, out of the\nactually monotonous impressions. Now attention,\nwhich here first acts by modifying the intensity of\nimpressions, soon produces the effect of qualitatively\nmodifying our total impression of the whole series.\nIf I have taken the fancy to listen to the even\nstrokes in quadruple time, intensifying by my own\nact every fourth stroke, the character of the series is\nchanged for me. The impressions are less\nmonotonous, and they arouse new associations. They seem\nto be caused by some force that rhythmically\nincreases and decreases. Perhaps a melody, or some\nphrase of a few words, arises in my mind, and\npersists in associating itself with the strokes. Probably\nsome vague feeling, as of rhythmic motion through\nthe air, or of pleasure or of displeasure in the\npresence of some rhythmically moving living being, is\nawakened. Qualitatively, my consciousness is thus\naltered through my attention. I seem to be experiencing something that, as an objective reality, I do\nnot experience. More striking becomes this qualitative\nalteration of experience through attention,\nin case you bring two watches of different beat, or\na watch and a clock, and listen to both at once at\nthe distance of a few inches, first, perhaps, stopping\none ear to avoid confusion. Here, by attention,\nyou make or try to make a compound rhythm,\nand this effort alters a good deal the total impression\nthat you derive from the sound. If the two\nseries are such that a simple small multiple of the\ninterval of one gives you a simple small multiple of\nthe other\u2019s interval, you can combine the two series\ninto one rhythm, and then there is an immediate\nimpression as if the two series were really but the\ncomplex ticking of one source of sound. But if the\nseries will not agree, there is an odd sense of something\nwrong, a disappointed effort to combine,\njoined, perhaps, with a tendency to hasten one of the\nseries, so as to make it agree with the other.\nAnother case where attention alters the quality of total\nimpressions, and not merely the intensity of any\npart, appears in certain psychological laboratory\nexperiments, described by Wundt in his \u201cPhysiologische\nPsychologie.\u201d Here, for the sake of determining\nthe actual time taken by an act of attention,\nan observer is to make an electric signal as soon as\nhe becomes conscious of a certain impression, while\nthe impression itself is produced by an assistant at a\ntime exactly determined. The source of the\nimpression is the ringing of a bell, the flash of an electric\nspark, or something of the kind agreed upon at the outset. To distinguish from one another the various\ncauses of the delay of the signal, the conditions of\nexperiment are variously modified. In one set of\nexperiments, the observer does not know beforehand\nwhether he is to experience a flash of light, or a\nsound, or some sensation of touch, nor how intense\nthe sensation will be, nor when it will come; but he\nknows that he is to be on the lookout for one of the\nthree kinds of sensation. He waits, with attention\nall aroused. In this case, it always takes him longer\nto signal than if he knew beforehand the kind and\nthe strength of the coming sensation. Moreover, his\nattention now makes him uneasy; the coming sensation\nis expected, with signs of excitement, and is\noften received with a start. Here the feeling of effort\nthat accompanies attention affects by its strength\nthe character of the impression received. Moreover,\nin many of these experiments there appear phenomena\nthat show that attention alters our perception\nof time, not merely as to length, but also as to sequence;\nso that under circumstances, an impression\nthat really precedes another can appear in consciousness\nas succeeding it. Yet more: attention sometimes\nserves to combine two sets of simultaneous\nimpressions, and to make them seem as if proceeding\nfrom one source.\n\nSo much for the influence of attention alone. But\nwhat is attention? We reply, evidently an active\nprocess. When impressions are modified by\nattention, they are actively modified. And if you ask\nabout the nature of this active process, the reply is,\nattention, in its most elementary forms, is the same activity that in a more developed shape we commonly\ncall will. We attend to one thing rather than to\nanother, because we will to do so, and our will is\nhere the elementary impulse to know. Our attention\nleads us at times into error. But this error is merely\nan accompaniment, the result of our will activity.\nWe want to intensify an impression, to bring it\nwithin the sphere of knowledge. But in carrying\nout our impulse, we do more than we meant. We not\nonly bring something into clearer consciousness that\nwas before out of clear consciousness, but we\nqualitatively modify this thing in attending to it. I want\nto observe a series of beats, and in observing it, I\nmake one beat in three or four seem heavier than the\nothers, or I even alter the apparent length of one interval\nin three or four, by making it seem longer\nthan the others. I observe a series of visual impressions,\nand at the same time a series of auditory\nimpressions; if there is a certain agreement between\nthem, I irresistibly unite these two series by my act\nof attention into one series, and refer them to a common\ncause. And so in the other cases. Attention\nseems to defeat, in part, its own object. Bringing\nsomething into the field of knowledge seems to be\na modifying, if not a transforming, process.\n\nWe all know how this same law works on a higher\nplane. Giving our whole attention for a time to a\nparticular subject seems necessary for the growth of\nour knowledge. Yet such attention, if long kept up,\nalways modifies our power to know, affects our whole\nmental condition, and thus injures our power to\nappreciate the relations between the subject of our study and the other things in the world. Constant\nattention to one thing narrows our minds, until we\nfail to see the very thing we are looking at. Our\nlives are thus really passed in a constant flitting\nfrom one more or less partial and distorted view of\nthings to another, from this one-sided judgment to\nthat. Change the book you are reading, and your\nwhole notion of the universe suffers some momentary\nchange also. Think this week in the fashion of\nCarlyle, attending to things as he brings them to\nyour attention, and human life \u2014 in fact, the whole\nworld of being as you thought of it last week, when\nyou were following some other guide \u2014 becomes\nmomentarily clouded. This truth seems out of relation\nto that. Your change of attention qualitatively alters\nyour apprehension of truth. Attending now even to\nthe same things, you view them in new lights. The\nalteration of mental attitude becomes confusing to\nyourself. But refuse to make any such changes,\nsettle down steadfastly to some one way of regarding\nall things, and your world becomes yet more misty.\nYou see only a few things, and those in such a bad\nlight that you are in danger of utter darkness.\nFrequent change of mental view (we of course do not\nmean constant change of creed or of occupation, but\nonly frequent alteration of the direction of our\nthought) is essential to mental health. Yet this\nalteration implies at least some temporary change in\nour knowing powers, and so some change in our\nappreciation of truth.\n\nBefore going on to speak of the effect of our own\nactivity upon our knowledge, when attention is combined with active recognition of impressions, we\nwant to formulate the law that governs the action\nof attention upon sense-impressions apart from\nrecognition. This law seems pretty well established by\nexperience, and is, at all events, quite simple. It is\nthis: Any act of attention tends, first, to strengthen\nthe particular set of impressions to which it is at the\nmoment adapted; and secondly, to modify those\nimpressions in such a way as shall make the total\nimpression derived from them all as simple an\nimpression as possible. These two statements could be\nreduced to one, thus: Attention constantly tends\nto make our consciousness more definite and less\ncomplex; that is, less confused and more united.\nMore definite, less confused attention tends to make\nconsciousness; since, out of many vague impressions,\nattention fixes upon one or a few, and helps them\nto crowd out the others. Less complex and more\nunited or integrated attention makes the impressions\nattended to; as when, for the indefinite multiplicity\nof the successive even beats of a watch or of an\nengine, attention substitutes the simpler form of a\nrising and falling rhythm of more and less emphatic\nbeats, or as when two parallel series of impressions\nare reduced to one, by combination. If impressions\nare so complex and so imperative in their demands\nas to impede greatly the simplifying and clarifying\nefforts of attention, the result is a disagreeable\nfeeling of confusion, that may increase to violent pain.\n\nThis law, that our consciousness constantly tends\nto the minimum of complexity and to the maximum\nof definiteness, is of great importance for all our knowledge. Here we have a limitation that cannot\nbe overleaped. Whatever we come to know,\nwhatever opinions we come to hold, our attention it is\nthat makes all our knowing and all our believing\npossible; and the laws followed by this, our own\nactivity of attention will thus determine what we are\nto know and what we are to believe. If things have\nmore than a certain complexity, not only will our\nlimited powers of attention forbid us to unravel this\ncomplexity, but we shall strongly desire to believe\nthe things actually much simpler than they are. For\nour thoughts about them will have a constant\ntendency to become as simple and definite as possible.\nPut a man into a perfect chaos of phenomena, sights,\nsounds, feelings; and if the man continued to exist,\nand to be rational at all, his attention would\ndoubtless soon find for him a way to make up some kind\nof rhythmic regularity, which he would impute to the\nthings about him, so as to imagine that he had\ndiscovered some law of sequence in this mad new world.\nAnd thus, in every case where we fancy ourselves\nsure of a simple law of Nature, we must remember\nthat a good deal of the fancied simplicity may be due\nin the given case not to Nature, but to the\nineradicable prejudice of our own minds in favor of\nregularity and simplicity. All our thought is determined,\nin great measure, by this law of least effort, as it is\nfound exemplified in our activity of attention.\n\nBut attention is not the only influence that goes\nto transform sense-impressions into knowledge.\nAttention never works alone, but always in company\nwith the active process of recognizing the present as in some way familiar, and of constructing in the\npresent ideas of what is not present. At these two\nother active processes we must very briefly glance.\n\nRecognition is involved in all knowledge. Recognition\ndoes not always mean a definite memory of a\nparticular past experience that resembles a present\none. On the contrary, recognition is frequently\nonly a sense of familiarity with something now\npresent, coupled with a more or less distinct applying of\nsome predicate to this present thing. I recognize a\nhorse, a landscape, a star, a friend, a piece of music,\na book, when I feel more or less familiar with the\nimpression of the object in question, and when, at\nthe same time, I predicate more or less distinctly\nsomething of it. This, I say, is my friend, or the\nnorth star, or Webster\u2019s Dictionary, or Smith\u2019s\nhorse. Or, perhaps, in recognizing, I recognize, not\nmerely the whole object, but one of its qualities,\nor of its relation to other things. Then I say, this\nis large or small, good or bad, equal or unequal to\nanother thing, and so on. In all these cases,\nrecognition involves a lively reaction of my mind upon\nexternal impressions. Recognition is not found apart\nfrom attention, though attention may exist more or\nless completely without recognition. Recognition\ncompletes what attention begins. The attentive\nman wants to know, the recognizing man knows, or\nthinks that he knows. Recognition implies\naccompanying attention. Attention without recognition\nimplies wonder, curiosity, perplexity, perhaps terror.\nBut what is the law of this process of recognition?\nDoes the process affect the impressions themselves that are the basis of the recognition? The answer\nis: Very distinctly, recognition does affect the\nimpressions. The activity involved in recognition\nalters the data of sense, and that in almost every case.\nTwo of the ways in which this alteration occurs\nare these: (1.) In recognizing, we complete present\ndata by remembered past data, and so seem to\nexperience more than is actually given to our senses.\nThus, then, in reading, we read over misprints (even\nagainst our own will), thinking that we see words\nwhen we do not see them, or when we see only parts\nof them. Again: in listening to an indistinct\nspeaker we often supply what is lacking in the sounds\nhe makes, and seem to hear whole words when we\nreally hear but fragments of words. Or, merely\nwhistling a few notes, we recall to ourselves, and\nseem to have present, the complex instrumental\nharmony of some music that we have heard played.\nOr, in dim twilight, we imagine the form of a man,\nand seem to see it plainly in detail, when, in fact, a\nmass of shrubbery, or a coat on a chair, is the one\nsource of our impressions. In all these cases, the\nactivity of recognition alters the data of sense, by\nadding to them, by fiUing out the sketch made by\nthem. (2.) However, even the qualities of sense-impressions\nare altered according to the way in which\nwe recognize their objects. The colors of a landscape\nare dimmer, and less significant as colors, so long\nas we recognize the objects in the landscape. Look\nunder your arm, with head inverted, and the colors\nflash out with unwonted brilliancy. For when you\nso look, you lose sight of the objects as such, and give your attention solely to the colors. Mistake a\nfew brown leaves in some dark corner of a garden\nfor some little animal, and the leaves take on for the\nmoment the distinctive familiar color of the animal;\nand when you discover your blunder, you can catch\nthe colors in the very act of fading into their dull,\ndry-leaf insignificance. Many facts of this sort are\nrecorded by psychologists and by artists, and can be\nobserved by any of us if we choose. To separate a\nsensation from its modifications that are produced\nby recognition is not a little difficult.\n\nNow, in both these kinds of alteration a law is\nobserved, very similar to the one previously noted.\nThe alterations of the data of sense in the moment of\nrecognition are alterations in the direction of simplicity\nand definiteness of consciousness. The present\nis assimilated to the past; the new is made to seem\nas familiar as possible. This reaction of the mind\nupon new impressions is easily seen in our thoughts\nand words in the first moment of great surprise or\nfright. When Macbeth turns from his door to the\ntable, and sees the ghost of Banquo in his chair, his\nfirst words are not the \u201cAvaunt, and quit my sight!\u201d\nwherewith he greets the second appearance\nof the ghost, nor yet even the \u201cWhich of you have done this?\u201d\nthat he utters as soon as he recovers\nhimself. No: his first conscious reaction, in presence\nof the horrible impression, is a quiet remark,\n\u201cThe table\u2019s full.\u201d And when they tell him that\nthere is a place reserved, he persists with a\n\u201cWhere?\u201d In this scene, Shakespeare\u2019s instinct\nis perfectly accurate. Our effort always is to make the new as familiar as possible, even when this new\nis inconceivably strange. It takes us some time to\nrealize, as we say, a great change of any sort.\nRecognition, however, is yet further modified by the\ninterest with which we at any moment attend to things.\nBut when we speak of interest, we are led to the\nthird kind of active modification by which our minds\ndetermine for us what we know.\n\nAt every moment we are not merely receiving,\nattending, and recognizing, but we are constructing.\nOut of what from moment to moment comes to us,\nwe are building up our ideas of past and future, and\nof the world of reality. Mere dead impressions are\ngiven. We turn them by our own act into symbols\nof a real universe. We thus constantly react upon\nwhat is given, and not only modify it, but even give\nit whatever significance it comes to possess. Now\nthis reaction takes a multitude of forms, and cannot\nbe fully discussed without far more than our present\nspace. But we can name one or two prominent\nmodes of reaction of mind upon sense-data in this\nprovince of mental life.\n\n1. Definite memory is possible only through present\nactive construction from the data of feeling.\nNothing can come to us certifying for itself that it\nformed a part of our previous experience. When\nwe know a thing as past, we actively project our\nidea of it into a conceived past time. Without this\nactive interference of our own minds, everything\nwould be but a present, and there would be no time\nfor us, only fleeting life from moment to moment.\n\n2. Definite belief in external reality is possible only through this active addition of something of\nour own to the impressions that are actually given\nto us. No external reality is given to us in the mere\nsense-impressions. What is outside of us cannot be\nat the same time within us. But out of what is in\nus, we construct an idea of an external world. To\nbe sure this belief needs higher justification, like all\nother beliefs. But at the outset it is just an activity\nof ours.\n\n3. All abstract ideas, all general truths, all knowledge\nof necessary laws, all acceptance of doctrines,\nbegin in like fashion, through an active process\ncoming from within. Change the fashions of our\nmental activity, and nobody can tell how radically you\nwould change our whole conception of the universe.\n\n4. All this active construction from sense-impressions\nexpresses certain fundamental interests that\nour human spirit takes in reality. We want to have\na world of a particular character; and so, from\nsense-impressions, we are constantly trying to build\nup such a world. We are prejudiced in favor of\nregularity, necessity, and simplicity in the world;\nand so we continually manipulate the data of sense\nfor the sake of building up a notion of a regular,\nnecessary, and simple universe. And so, though it\nis true that our knowledge of the world is determined\nby what is given to our senses, it is equally\ntrue that our idea of the world is determined quite\nas much by our own active combination, completion,\nanticipation of sense experience. Thus all knowing\nis, in a very deep sense, acting; it is, in fact, reacting\nand creation. The most insignificant knowledge is in some sense an original product of the man who\nknows. In it is expressed his disposition, his power\nof attention, his skill in recognition, his interest in\nreality, his creative might. Exact knowledge is, in\nfact, best illustrated by cases where we ourselves\nmake what we know. So only is mathematical\nknowledge possible; mathematical ideas are all\nproducts of a constructive imagination. And so it is in\nall other thought-life. Mentally produce, and thou\nshalt know thy product. But we must remember,\nfor what we produce we are in some sense morally\nresponsible\u00a0; and thus, in discussing the nature of\nknowledge, we are trespassing on the border-land of\nethics.\n\nTo sum up all in a few words: Plainly, since\nactive inner processes are forever modifpng and\nbuilding our ideas; since our interest in what we wish to\nfind does so much to determine what we do find;\nsince we could not if we would reduce ourselves to\nmere registering machines, but remain always\nbuilders of our own little worlds, \u2014 it becomes us to\nconsider well, and to choose the spirit in which we shall\nexamine our experience. Every one is certain to be\nprejudiced, simply because he does not merely\nreceive experience, but himself acts, himself makes\nexperience. One great question for every truth-seeker\nis: In what sense, to what degree, with what motive,\nfor what end, may I and should I be prejudiced?\nMost of us get our prejudices wholly from the\nfashions of other men. This is cowardly. We are\nresponsible for our own creed, and must make it by\nour own hard work. Therefore, the deepest and most important of all questions is the one,\n\u201cFor what art thou at work?\u201d It is useless to reply,\n\u201cI am merely noting down what I find in the world.\nI am not responsible for the facts.\u201d The answer is,\n\u201cA mere note-book thou art not, but a man. These\nare never simply notes; thy thoughts are always\ntransformed reality, never mere copies of reality.\nFor thy transforming activity, as well as for thy\nskill in copying, thou art answerable.\u201d\n\nV.\n\nIt is not then that postulates occur here and\nthere in our thoughts, but that, without postulates,\nboth practical life and the commonest results of\ntheory, from the simplest impressions to the most\nvaluable beliefs, would be for most if not all of us\nutterly impossible; this it is which makes active faith\nso prominent a subject for philosophical\nconsideration. An imperfect reflection makes that appear as\nblind faith which ought to appear as postulate.\nInstead of saying that he takes all these things on\nrisk, and because they are worth the risk, the\nnatural man is persuaded by such imperfect reflection to\nsay that he trusts very ardently that he is running\nno risk at all. Or again: the natural man is moved\nto fear any examination into the bases of his thought,\nbecause he does not wish to discover that there is\nany risk there. And so we live dishonestly with\nour thoughts. Where there is a deeper basis, that\ninvolves more than mere risk, let us find it if we can.\nBut where we have nothing better than active faith, let us discover the fact, and see clearly just why it\nis worth while to act in this way.\n\nTo speak more particularly of the postulates of\ndeveloped science. The ancient discussions about\nthe basis of physical knowledge of all sorts have\nhad at least this as outcome, that it is useless to\npretend to make science of any sort do without\nassumptions, and equally useless to undertake the\ndemonstration of these assumptions by experience alone.\nNo one has ever succeeded in accomplishing such a\nthing, and the only difference among thinkers about\nthese assumptions is that some think it worth while\nto seek a transcendental basis for them all, while\nothers insist that a transcendental basis is as\nimpossible as a purely experimental basis is inadequate,\nand that in consequence we can only use the form of\nthreat and say: Unless you make these assumptions,\nthe spirit of science is not in you. As for the exact\nform that in more elaborate scientific work ought\nto be taken by these postulates, opinion differs very\nmuch, but an approximation to their sense may be\nattempted very briefly as follows.\n\nIn addition to those postulates that, as we have\nseen, accompany and condition all thinking alike,\nscience may be considered as making a more special\nassumption. This assumption has been well defined\nby Professor Avenarius, in his well-known essay on\n\u201cDie Philosophie als Denken der Welt Gem\u00e4ss dem\nPrincip des kleinsten Kraftmasses.\u201d He regards it\nas an outcome of the general law of parsimony that\ngoverns all mental work. The world of phenomena\nis conceived at any stage in the simplest form, and the reality that we accept is for us at any time the\nsimplest description of the phenomena as known to\nus. To put this view in our own way, we might\nsay that the world is scientifically viewed as a\nperfectly united whole, which would, if fully known,\nfully satisfy our highest mental desire for continuity\nand perfect regularity of conception. Therefore it\nis that the \u201cuniversal formula\u201d of the last chapter\nis a conception that expresses the scientific ideal.\nWith less perfection, harmony, and unity of thought\nabout the world, science will never rest content so\nlong as she continues to be science. But for this\nvery reason science postulates that this perfect order\nmust be already realized in the world. It is not\nmerely that this order is the practically unattainable\nbut still necessary ideal for our reason; but we\nmust postulate that this order is already present in\nthings, far off as our thought is from it. This\npostulate gives life to our scientific thought. Without\nit our search for an order that need not exist is\nmeaningless play.\n\nThis postulated order, however, if found, would\nmean for us relative simplicity and economy of\nconception. The infinite mass of phenomena would be\nconceived as one whole. The maximum of wealth\nof facts would be grasped with the minimum of\nmental effort. We postulate after this fashion that the\nworld loves parsimony, even as we do.\n\nTo illustrate by the case of one science. A great\nmaster of mechanical science has called it the science\nwhich gives the simplest possible description of the\nmotions in the world. If we accept this account of mechanics, we are at once puzzled by the fact that\nmost mechanical theories make assumptions about\nthe forces at work in the world, and that all of them\npredict coming facts. But forces form no part of\nthe experience or of the mere description of motion.\nAnd the future is not yet given to be described.\nHow then does all this agree with the definition in\nquestion? Very well indeed. For those who\nassume forces to explain given motions, always assume\njust those forces that will directly explain, not any\ndescription at random of the motions given in\nexperience, but the simplest possible description. Any\nmotion being relative, never for our experience\nabsolute, we can assume at pleasure any point in the\nworld as the origin or point of reference that shall\nbe regarded as at rest, and so we can get an infinite\nnumber of descriptions of any given motions. We\ncan make any object in the world move at any\ndesired speed or in any desired direction, simply by\naltering the origin to which we shall choose to refer\nits motion in our description thereof. But all these\npossible descriptions are not equally useful for the\npurposes of the science. Some one of them is the\nsimplest for all the motions of the system in\nquestion; and this we regard as best expressing the\nactual natural truth in the matter. The assumption\nof just such forces as woidd explain this simplest\nsystem of motions as described, satisfies us. We\nsay, these forces are the real ones at work. But\nstill we know that the forces assumed only express\nin another form the fact that the description in\nquestion is the simplest. Is this, however, really all that the science does with the given motions? No, one\nthing more the science assumes, namely, that if the\nsystem of motions in question is not subject to any\nexternal influence, it will remain fundamentally and\nin deepest truth the same in future, that is:\nThe simplest description of the given motions in a\nsystem of bodies that is wholly independent of the\naction of bodies without the system, this description\nis permanent for all states of the system. This\nassumption is needed before mechanical science can\nventure on any prediction, or beyond mere descrip-\ntion of past and present motions. This is the pos-\ntulate of the uniformity of nature in its mechanical shape.\nThe complete present description of the\nworld would reveal the whole future of the world.\n\nWhat, however, does this postulate of uniformity\nexpress for our thought? What is the philosophical\noutcome of it? It expresses for our thought the\ndemand that nature shall answer our highest\nintellectual needs, namely, the need for simplicity and\nabsolute unity of conception. Mechanical science\ncan no more do without this assumption than can\nany other science.\n\nThe ground that we have here very briefly passed\nover is known to all readers of modern controversy.\nWe can only add our conviction that, as far as it\ngoes, the foregoing view is a perfectly fair one.\nWhether or no there be any deeper basis for this postulate, it is sure that science makes the postulate,\nand does not give any deeper basis for it. For\nnatural science it is a faith.\n\nNow this faith, not blind faith but postulate, not\nbasely submitted to merely because we must submit\nto it, but boldly assumed because we think it worth\nthe risk, wherein does it differ from what our\nfundamental religious faith would be if we made of that\nalso no mere dogmatic creed, but a general\nassumption, no mere passive trust, but an active postulate?\nBeneath all the beliefs that we could not\ndemonstrate in our last chapter, lay the determination not\nso much to prove one cast-iron system of dogmas,\nas to find some element of reality that shoidd have\nan infinite worth. The world should be at least as\nhigh as our highest conception of goodness. And\nto this end the partial evil should be in deepest\nreality universal good, even though our imperfect\neyes could never show to us how this could be, \u2014\ncould never see through the illusion to the \u201cimageless\ntruth\u201d beneath. Therefore, although we vainly\nsought among the Powers of the world for proof of\nall this, may we not still hope to approach the\nEternal Reality with these postulates, and to say:\n\u201cThough thou revealest to us nothing, yet we\nbelieve thee good. And we do so because this faith of\nours is a worthy one.\u201d Possibly then our Religion\nwill be just the highest form of our conduct itself,\nour determination to make the world good for\nourselves, whatever baseness experience shows us in it.\nThen we can say: Just as science is undaunted by\nthe vision of the world of confusion, so shall our religious faith be undaunted by the vision of the evil\nof the world. We shall war against this evil in the\ntrust that the highest reality is not against us, but\nwith us, just as we try to comprehend the world with\nthe faith that the highest reality is in conformity\nwith our private reason. In both cases we take the\nrisk, but we take the risk because it is worth taking,\nbecause to take it is the highest form of activity.\nAs the faith of science helps to make life rational,\nso the religious faith helps to make life in the highest\nsense moral, by insisting that the ideal labors of\nour moral life are undertaken not alone, but in\nharmony with the world as known to the Infinite.\n\nTo make the parallel a little clearer, we may say\nthat science postulates the truth of the description\nof the world that, among all the possible\ndescriptions, at once includes the given phenomena and\nattains the greatest simplicity; while religion assumes\nthe truth of the description of the world that,\nwithout falsifying the given facts, arouses the highest\nmoral interest and satisfies the highest moral needs.\n\nAll this has often been said, but it has not always\nbeen clearly enough joined with the practical\nsuggestion that if one gives up one of these two faiths,\nhe ought consistently to give up the other. If one\nis weary of the religious postulates, let him by all\nmeans throw them aside. But if he does this, why\ndoes he not throw aside the scientific postulates, and\ngive up insisting upon it that the world is and must\nbe rational? Yea, let him be thorough-going, and,\nsince the very perception of the walls of his room\ncontains postulates, let him throw away all these postulates too, and dwell in the chaos of sensations\nunfriended. There is no reason why he should not\ndo this unless he sees a deeper foundation for his\npostulates. We have no mere dogmas to urge here.\nLet one abandon all mere postulates if he has not\nthe courage to make them, but then let one\nconsistently give them all up. The religious postulates\nare not indeed particular creeds. One may abandon\ncreeds of many sorts, and yet keep the fundamental\npostulate. But if he abandons the fundamental\npostulate of religion, namely, that universal goodness\nis somehow at the heart of things, then he ought\nconsistently to cease from the fundamental\npostulate of science, namely, that universal, order-loving\nreason is somehow the truth of things. And to do\nboth is to lack the courage of rational and of moral\nlife.\n\nSuch is the way of the postulates. And yet we\ndesire to find, if we can, a more excellent way.\nThese postulates must be confirmed if possible, and\nthen subordinated to higher results. It was the\nskeptical work of the last chapter to turn attention\naway from false or inconclusive methods of\nestablishing religious faith. There we saw how much\nmust seem, according to all the ordinary apologetic\nmethods, theoretically doubtful. In this chapter we\nhave seen how postulates, theoretically uncertain,\nbut practically worth the risk, are at the foundation\nof our whole lives. Hereafter we shall seek to dig\nbeneath these foundations to that other sort of\ntheoretical certainty whereof we have made mention. If\nwe get it, then all our work will have been worth while. Our skepticism will have saved us from\nantiquated methods, and from worn-out dogmas. Our\nfaith will have been purified by being reduced to\ncertain simple postulates that are not identical with\nthe traditional creeds, although those creeds tried to\nexpress them. And both our skepticism and our\nfaith will then finally become elements of a broader\nReligious Insight.\n\nThe dead external reality, into whose darkness we\nhad to peer in vain for light, has indeed transformed\nitself. It is no more merely dead, or merely\nexternal. It is ours and for us. It was a world of doubt\nin the last chapter, just because we made it dead\nand external. Now that we have seen how it was\nthe expression of postulates, it seems to have become\nplastic and ideal. Yet what it has gained in\nplasticity, it has lost in authority. After all, is not this\nbusiness of postulating into the void a dangerous\none? Is it not a hollow and empty activity this, if\nwe really reflect upon it? Courage indeed we must\nhave; but is religion no more than courage? Nay;\nwe must have if possible some eternal Truth, that\nis not our postulate, to rest upon. Can we not get\nsome such comfort? And may there not be some\nhigher relation of our lives to that truth, \u2014 such a\nrelation that the truth shall be neither the arbitrary\nproduct of our subjective postulates, nor a dead\nexternal reality such as was the world of doubt\u00a0? We\nare bound still to search.\n\nNotes","title":"The Religious Aspect of Philosophy/Chapter 9","tradition":"scripture-revelation","translated_text":null,"word_count":11525}