I seize on Nature in her rapid and unrest ing flight, detain her for an instant, and holding the present moment steadily in view, I reflect upon this Nature by means of which my thinking powers have hitherto been developed and trained to those researches that belong to her domain.
I am surrounded by objects which I am compelled to regard as separate, independent, self- subsisting wholes. I behold plants, trees, animals. I ascribe to each individual certain properties and attributes by which I distinguish it from others; to this plant, such a form; to another, another; to this tree, leaves of such a shape; to another, others differing from them.
Every object has its appointed number of attributes, neither more nor less. To every question, whether it is this or that, there is, for any one who is thoroughly acquainted with it, a decisive Yes possible, or a de cisive No, — so that there is an end of all doubt or hesitation on the subject. Everything that exists is something, or it is not this something; — is coloured, or is not coloured; — has a certain colour, or has it not; — may be tasted, or may not; — is tangible, or is not; and so on, ad infinitum.
BOOK I. DOUBT. 375 BOOK I. DOUBT. 375 Every object possesses each of these attributes in a definite degree. Let a measure be given for any par ticular attribute which is capable of being applied to the object; then we may discover the exact extent of that attribute, which it neither exceeds nor falls short of. I measure the height of this tree; it is defined, and it is not a single line higher or lower than it is. I consider the green of its leaves; it is a definite green, not the smallest shade darker or lighter, fresher or more faded than it is; although I may have neither measure nor expression for these qualities. I turn my eye to this plant; it is at a -definite stage of growth between its budding and its maturity, not in the small est degree nearer or more remote from either than it is. Everything that exists is determined throughout; it is what it is. and nothing else.
Not that I am unable to conceive of an object as floating unattached between opposite determinations. I do certainly conceive of indefinite objects; for more than half of my thoughts consist of such conceptions. I think of a tree in general. Has this tree fruit or not, leaves or not; and if so, what is their number? — to what order of trees does it belong? — how large is it? — and so on. All these questions remain unan swered, and my thought is undetermined in these re spects; for I did not propose to myself the thought of any particular tree, but of a tree generally. But I deny actual existence to such a tree in thus leaving it undefined. Everything that actually exists has its determinate number of all the possible attributes of actual existence, and each of these in a determinate measure, as surely as it actually exists, although I may admit my inability thoroughly to exhaust all the 376 THE VOCATION OF MAN.
properties of any one object, or to apply to them any standard of measurement.
But Nature pursues her course of ceaseless change, and while I yet speak of the moment which I sought to detain before me, it is gone, and all is changed; and in like manner, before I had fixed my observation upon it, all was otherwise. It had not always been as it was when I observed it: — it had become so.
Why then, and from what cause, had it become precisely this which I beheld? Why had Nature, amid the infinite variety of possible forms, assumed in this moment precisely these and no others?
For this reason, that they were preceded by those precisely which did precede them, and no others; and because the present could arise out of those and out of no other possible conditions. Had anything in the preceding moment been in the smallest degree different from what it was, then in the present moment some thing would have been different from what it is. And from what cause were all things in that preceding moment precisely such as they were? For this reason, that in the moment preceding that, they were such as they were. And this moment again was dependent on its predecessor, and that on another, and so on without limit. In like manner will Nature, in the succeeding moment, be necessarily determined to the particular forms which it will then assume — for this reason, that in the present moment it is determined exactly as it is; and were anything in the present moment in the smallest degree different from what it is, then in the succeeding moment something would necessarily be BOOK I. DOUBT. 377 BOOK I. DOUBT. 377 different from what it will be. And in the moment following that, all things will be precisely as they will be, because in the immediately previous moment they will be as they will be; and so will its successor pro ceed forth from it, and another from that, and so on for ever.
Nature proceeds throughout the whole infinite series of her possible determinations without outward in centive; and the succession of these changes is not arbitrary, but follows strict and unalterable laws. Whatever exists in Nature, necessarily exists as it does exist; and it is absolutely impossible that it could be otherwise. I enter within an unbroken chain of phe nomena, in which every link is determined by that which has preceded it, and in its turn determines the next; so that, were I able to trace backward the causes through which alone any given moment could have come into actual existence, and to follow out the con sequences which must necessarily flow from it, I should then be able, at that moment, and by means of thought alone, to discover all possible conditions of the universe, both past and future; — past, by interpreting the given moment; future, by foreseeing its results. Every part contains the whole, for only through the whole is each part what it is, but through the whole it is necessarily what it is.
What is it then which I have thus discovered? If I review my acquisitions as a whole, I find their substance to be this: — that in every stage of progress an ante cedent is necessarily supposed, from which and through which alone the present has arisen; in every condition Ll 378 THE VOCATION OF MAN.
a previous condition, in every existence another ex istence; and that from nothing, nothing whatever can proceed.
Let me pause here a little, and develope whatever is contained in this principle, until it become perfectly clear to me! For it may be that on my clear insight into this point may depend the whole success of my future inquiry.
Why, and from what cause, I had asked, are the determinate forms of objects precisely such as they are at this moment. I assumed without farther proof, and without the slightest inquiry, as an absolute, immediate, certain and unalterable truth, that they had a cause; — that not through themselves, but through something which lay beyond them, they had attained existence and reality. I found their existence insufficient to ac count for itself, and I was compelled to assume another existence beyond them, as a necessary condition of theirs. But why did I find the existence of these qualities and determinations insufficient for itself? why did I find it to be an incomplete existence? What was there in it which betrayed to me its insufficiency? This, without doubt: — that, in the first place, these qualities do not exist in and for themselves, — they are qualities of something else, attributes of a substance, forms of something formed; and the supposition of such a substance, of a something which shall support these attributes, — of a substratum for them, to use the phraseology of the Schools, — is a necessary condi tion of the conceivableness of such qualities. Further, before I can attribute a definite quality to such a sub stratum, I must suppose for it a condition of repose, and of cessation from change, — a pause in its existence.
BOOK I. DOUBT. 37<J Were I to admit it to be in a state of transition, then there could be no definite determination, but merely an endless series of changes from one state to another. The state of determination in a thing is thus a state and expression of mere passivity; and a state of mere passivity is in itself an incomplete existence. Such passivity itself demands an activity to which it may be referred, by which it can be explained, and through which it first becomes conceivable; — or, as it is usually expressed, — which contains within it the ground of this passivity.
What I found myself compelled to suppose was thus by no means that the various and successive determi nations of ^Nature themselves produce each other, — that the present determination annihilates itself, and, in the next moment, when it no longer exists, produces another, which is different from itself and not con tained in it, to fill its place: — this is wholly incon ceivable. The determination produces neither itself nor anything else.
What I found myself compelled to assume in order to account for the gradual origin and the changes of those determinations, was an active power, peculiar to the object, and constituting its essential nature.
And how, then, do I conceive of this power? — what is its nature, and the modes of its manifestation? This only, — that under these definite conditions it produces by its own energy, certainly and infallibly, this definite effect, and no other.
The principle of activity, of independent arising and becoming, dwells in itself alone, and in nothing beyond itself, as surely as it is a power; — a power is not impelled or set in motion; it sets itself in motion.
380 THE VOCATION OF MAN.
The cause of its having developed itself precisely in this manner and no other, lies partly in itself, because it is this particular power and no other, and partly in the circumstances under which it developes itself. Both these, — the inward determination of a power by itself, and its outward determination by circum stances, — must be united in order to produce a change. The latter, — the circumstances, the passive condition of things, — can of itself produce no change, for it contains within it the opposite of all change, — inert existence. The former, — the power, — is wholly de termined, for only on this condition is it conceivable; but its determination is completed only through the circumstances under which it is developed. I can con ceive of a power, it can have an existence for me, only in so far as I can perceive an effect proceeding from it; an inactive power, — which should yet be a power and not an inert thing, — is wholly inconceivable. Every effect, however, is determined, — and since the effect is but the expression, but another mode of the activity itself, — the active power is determined in its activity, and the ground of this determination lies partly in itself, because it can only be conceived of as a parti cular and definite power; partly out of itself, because its own determination can only be conceived of as con ditioned by something else.
A flower has sprung out of the earth, and I infer from thence a formative power in Nature. Such a formative power exists for me only so far as this flower and others, plants, and animals exist for me: — I can de scribe this power only through its effects, and it is to me no more than the producing cause of such effects, — the generative principle of flowers, plants, animals, BOOK I. DOUBT. 381 and organic forms in general. I will go further, and maintain that a flower, and this particular flower, could arise in this place only in so far as all other circum stances united to make it possible. But by the union of all these circumstances for its possibility, the actual existence of the flower is in no measure explained to me; and for this I am still compelled to assume a par ticular, spontaneous, and original power in Nature, and indeed a flower-producing power; for another power of Nature might, under the same circumstances, have produced something entirely different. — I have thus attained to the following view of the Universe.
AVhen I contemplate all things as one whole, one Nature, there is but one power, — when I regard them as separate existences, there are many powers — which develope themselves according to their inward laws, and pass through all the possible forms of which they are capable; and all objects in Nature are but those powers under certain determinate forms. The manifestations of every individual power of Nature are determined, become what they are, partly by its own essential cha racter, and partly through the manifestations of all the other powers of Nature with which it is connected; but it is connected with them all — for Nature is one connected whole. They are, therefore, unalterably de termined, — while its essential character remains what it is, and while it continues to manifest itself under these particular circumstances, its manifestations must necessarily be what they are, — and it is absolutely impossible that they should be in the smallest degree different from what they are.
In every moment of her duration Nature is one connected whole; in every moment each individual Ll2 382 THE VOCATION OF MAN.
part must be what it is, because all the others are what they are; and you could not remove a single grain of sand from its place, without thereby, although perhaps imperceptibly to you, altering something throughout all parts of the immeasurable whole. But every moment of this duration is determined by all past moments, and will determine all future moments; and you can not conceive even the position of a grain of sand other than it is in the Present, without being compelled to conceive the whole indefinite Past to have been other than what it has been, and the whole indefinite Future other than what it will be. Make the experiment, for instance, with this grain of quick- sand. Suppose it to lie some few paces further inland than it does: — then must the storm-wind that drove it in from the sea have been stronger than it actually was; — then must the preceding state of the weather, by which this wind was occasioned, and its degree of strength determined, have been different from what it actually was; and the previous state by which this particular weather was determined, — and so on; and thus you have, without stay or limit, a wholly different temperature of the air from that which really existed, and a different consti tution of the bodies which possess an influence over this temperature, and over which, on the other hand, it exercises such an influence. On the fruitfulness or unfruitfulness of countries, and through that, or even directly, on the duration of human life, — this tempe rature exercises a most decided influence. How can you know, — since it is not permitted us to penetrate the arcana of Nature, and it is therefore allowable to speak of possibilities, — how can you know, that in such a state of weather as may have been necessary to BOOK I. DOUBT. 383 carry this grain of sand a few paces further inland, some one of your forefathers might not have perished from hunger, or cold, or heat, before begetting that son from whom you are descended; and that thus you might never have been at all, and all that you have ever done, and all that you ever hope to do in this world, must have been obstructed, in order that a gram of sand might he in a different place?
I myself, with all that I call mine, am a link jnjhis chain of the rigid necessity of Mature. Therewas^a.. time — so others tell me who were then alive, and I am compelled by reasoning to admit such a time of which I have no immediate consciousness, — there was a time in which I was not, and a moment in which I began to be. I then only existed for others, — not yet for myself. Since then, my self, my self-consciousness, has gradually unfolded itself, and I have discovered in my self certain capacities and faculties, wants and natural desires. I am a definite creature, which came into being at a certain time.
I have not come into being by my own power. It would be the highest absurdity to suppose that I was before I came into existence, in order to bring myself into existence. I have, then, been called into being by another power beyond myself. And by what power but the universal power of Nature, since I too am a part of Nature? The time at which my existence com menced, and the attributes with which I came into being, were determined by this universal power of Nature; and all the forms under which these inborn attributes have since manifested themselves, and will 384 THE VOCATION OF MAN.
manifest themselves as long as I have a being, are de termined by the same power. It was impossible that, instead of me, another should have come into existence; — it is impossible that this being, once here, should at any moment of its existence be other than what it is and will be.
That my successive states of being have been accom panied by consciousness, and that some of them, such as thoughts, resolutions, and the like, appear to be nothing but varied modes of consciousness, need not perplex my reasonings. It is the natural constitution of the plant to develope itself, of the animal to move, of man to think, — all after fixed laws. Why should I hesitate to acknowledge the last as an original power of Nature, as well as the first and second? Nothing could hinder me from doing so, but surprise; thought being assuredly a far higher and more subtle operation of Nature, than the formation of a plant or the proper motion of an animal. But how can I accord to such a feeling any influence whatever upon the calm con clusions of reason? I cannot indeed explain how the power of Nature can produce thought; but can I better explain its operation in the formation of a plant, or in the motion of an animal? To attempt to deduce thought from any mere combination of matter, is an extravagance into which I shall not fall; but can I then explain from it even the formation of the simplest moss? Those original powers of Nature cannot be explained, for it is only by them that we can ex plain everything which is susceptible of explanation.
Thought exists, — its existence is absolute and inde pendent; just as the formative power of Nature exists absolutely and independently. It is in Nature; for the BOOK I. DOUBT. 385 thinking being arises and developes himself acccording to the laws of Nature: therefore thought exists through Nature. There is in Nature an original thinking-power, as there is an original formative-power.
This original thinking-power of the Universe pro ceeds and developes itself in all possible modes of which it is capable, as the other original forces of Nature go forth and assume all possible forms. I, like the plant, am a particular mode or manifestation of the formative -power; like the animal, a particular mode or manifestation of the power of motion; and besides these I am also a particular mode or manifesta- of the thinking-power; and the union of these three original powers into one, — into one harmonious de velopment, — is the distinguishing characteristic of my species, as it is the distinguishing characteristic of the plant species to be merely a mode or manifestation of the plant-forming power.
Figure, motion, thought, in me, are not dependent on each other, and consequent on each other; — so that I think, and thereby conceive of the forms and mo tions of surrounding objects in such or such a manner, because they are so; or on the other hand, that they are so, because I so conceive of them; — but they are all simultaneous and harmonious developments of one and the same power, the manifestation of which ne cessarily assumes the form of a complete creature of my species, and which may thus be called the man- forming power. A thought arises within me absolutely, without dependence on anything else; the correspond ing form likewise appears absolutely, and also the motion which corresponds to both. I am not what I am, because I think so, or will so; nor do I think 386 THE VOCATION OF MAX.
and will it, because I am so; but I am, and I think, both absolutely; — both harmonize with each other by virtue of a higher cause.
As surely as those original powers of Nature exist for themselves, and have their own internal laws and purposes, so surely must their outward manifestations, if they are left to themselves and not suppressed by any foreign force, endure for a certain period of time, and describe a certain circle of change. That which disappears even at the moment of its production is assuredly not the manifestation of one primordial power, but only a consequence of the combined operation of various powers. The plant, a particular mode or mani festation of the formative-power of Nature, when left to itself, proceeds from the first germination to the ripening of the seed. Man, a particular mode or mani festation of all the powers of Nature in their union, when left to himself, proceeds from birth to death in old age. Hence, the duration of the life of plants and of men, and the varied modes of this life.
This form, this proper motion, this thought, in har mony with each other, — this duration of all these essential qualities, amidst many non-essential changes, belong to me in so far as I am a being of my species. But the man-forming power of Nature had already displayed itself before I existed under a multitude of outward conditions and circumstances. These outward circumstances have determined the particular manner of its present activity, which has resulted in the pro duction of precisely such an individual of my species as I am. The same circumstances can never return; unless the whole system of Nature should retrograde, and two Natures arise instead of one; hence the same BOOK I. DOUBT. 387 individuals, who have once existed, can never again come into actual being. Further, the man-forming power of Nature manifests itself, during the same time in which I exist, under all conditions and circumstances which are possible in that time. No combination of such circumstances can perfectly resemble those through which I came into existence, unless the universe could divide itself into two perfectly similar but independent worlds. It is impossible that two perfectly similar individuals can come into actual existence at the same time. I am that which the man-forming power of Nature — having been what it was, being what it is, and standing in this particular relation to the other opposing powers of Nature — could become; and, — there being no ground of limitation within itself, — since it could become, necessarily must become. It is thus determined what I, this definite person, must be; and the general law by which I am what I am is dis covered. I am that which I am, because in tlu's par ticular condition of the great system of Nature, only such an one, and absolutely no other, was possible; and a spirit who could look through the innermost secrets of Nature, would, from knowing one single man, be able distinctly to declare what men had for merly existed, and what men would exist at any future moment; — in one individual he would discern all ac tual and possible individuals. This, my inter-connexion with the whole system of Nature, it is, then, which determines what I have been, what I am, and what I shall be; and the same spirit would be able, from any possible moment of my existence, to discover infallibly what I had previously been, and what I was afterwards to become. All that, at any time, I am and shall be.
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I am and shall be of absolute necessity; and it is im possible that I should be anything else.
1 am, indeed, conscious of myself as an independent, and, in many occurrences of my life, a free being; but this consciousness may easily be explained on the prin ciples already laid down, and may be thoroughly reconciled with the conclusions which have been drawn. My immediate consciousness, my proper perception, cannot go beyond myself and the modes of my own being; — I have immediate knowledge of myself alone: whatever I may know more than this, I know only by inference, in the same way in which I have inferred the existence of original powers of Nature, which yet do not lie within the circle of my perceptions. I my self, however, — that which I call me — my personality, — am not the man-forming power of Nature, but only one of its manifestations; and it is only of this mani festation that I am conscious, as myself, not of that power whose existence I only infer from the necessity of explaining my own. This manifestation, however, in its true nature, is really the product of an ori ginal and independent power, and must appear as such in consciousness. On, this account I recognise myself generally as an independent being. For this reason I appear to myself as free in certain occurrences of my life, when these occurrences are the manifesta