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SOOALWElFARE. & MORALPHnosOPHY3ll

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WHAT IS PHILOSOPHY 1

By the Same A.thor.WHAT IS POETR.Y? An Essay.WALT WHITMAN: An Essay. With a

Selection from his Writings.THE SILENCB O~ LoVE: POBMS.

[SeeMd Edi#4fI.THB TR.lt7IlPH OF LovE: Poems.

oWHAT ISPHILOSOPHY?

BY

EDMOND HOLMES

JOHN LANE: THE BODLEY HEADLONDON ~ NEW YORK. MDCCCCV

WHAT IS PHILOSOPHY i

WHAT IS PHILOSOPHY?

I.

WHAT is Philosophy? I will answer thisquestion, tentatively and provisionally, bydefining Philosophy as a search, for ultmatetruth,. This definition will not carry me veryfar until I have defined the word truth, .. butof all words this is perhaps the least definable.the range of the corresponding idea being aswide and the meaning as deep as theUniverse. What is truth? Th,e ooiectveside of knowledge is one answer to thisaudacious question. Tke subjectve sde ofreality is another. But what is knowledgeand what is realt"ty, and in what sense cantruth be said to mediate between these twoconceptions? Are we in possession of truth

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2 What is Philosophy?when our knowledge is clear, accurate, andcertain, when we can say of a thing withabsolute confidence U This is so"? If this iswhat we mean by truth, then it is incontest-able that mathematical truth is truth of thevery highest order. But what of the subject-matter of mathematical science? Are thethings which the mathematician knows soclearly, so accurately, and so certainly, realthings? Now, if feeling be at once theproduct and the proof of experience, and ifby experience we mean contact with reality,we may perhaps conclude that the most realthings are the things that awake in us themost intense and exalted emotion; and inas-much as our attitude towards the objects ofmathematical study is wholly unemotional,we may perhaps go on to conclude that thethings which the mathematician knows soperfectly are of all things the least real.Here, then, in Pure Mathematics, our know-ledge is of the very highest order, but the

What is Philosophy? 3things that are known seem to have the veryminimum of reality. In other words, mathe.matical truth is of all forms of truth the

.highest in degree and the lowest in kind;the highest in respect of accuracy andcertainty, the lowest in respect of the realityof its objective counterpart. As we pass fromthe abstractions of mathematics to the concretephenomena of material nature, from theseto the complex phenomena of life, and fromthese to the more spiritual phenomena whichare the objects of poetic and religious emo-tion, our knowledge of the things that sur-round us becomes less and less certain andaccurate, but the things themselves becomeproportionately more and more real, if thestrength and vividness of the feelings thatthey generate may be accepted as proofs oftheir reality. At last we seem to approachthe confines of a region in which knowledge(in the scientific sense of the word) is non-existent, but the things which we seek to

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-4 What is Philosophy?know are supremely real. If truth is to befound in that region, it is, of all forms oftroth, the lowest in degree but the highest inkind-the lowest in respect .of accuracy andcertainty, the highest in respect of the realityof its objective counterpart.

What then is truth? The objective sideof knowledge. The subjective side of reality.But what is most knowable is least real, andwhat is most real is least knowable. Perhapswe may infer from these data that truth is oftwo kinds, or rather that it ranges betweentwo opposite and infinitely distant poles. Atone of these poles we have the exact truthtl60ut things-the truth which is the counter-part of perfect knowledge. At the other, wehave the inmost truth of things-the truthwhich is the counterpart of absolute reality.Speaking generally, it may be said that when~e try to discover the truth about things, weseparate ourselves as fully as it is possiblefor us to do-separate ourselves provision-

What is Philosophy? 5ally and hypothetically, if not really-fromthe objects of our experience, with the resultthat our attitude towards them is cold, un-emotional, impersonal, impartial,disinterested;whereas, when we try to discover the truth ofthings, we identify ourselves as closely as itis possible fo~ us to do with the objects ofour experience, with the result that ourattitude towards them is warm, emotional,personal, partial (with something of thepartiality that we- feel for ourselves) inte-rested (with something of the interest thatwe take in ourselves). To discover andexpound the truth about things is obviouslythe function of Science. To realize andexpress the truth of things is obviously the-function of Poetry.

Where then does Philosophy come in ?Let us first distinguish it from Science.

In Science we arrive at certainty, the cer-tainty which enables us to say with perfectconfidence, with imperturbable peace of mind~'

6 What is PJtilosophy.?" I know that this is so." One of the sourcesof our certainty and one of the proofs of i~validity is the feeling. that it is shared by allwho have gone as fully into the matter as wehave. In Philosophy we never get withinmeasurable distance of certainty of this kind~Men have been philosophizing for thousandsof years, and so far as tangible results areconcerned they have as yet achieved exactlynothing. Were I to ask a question in Che-mistry, I should in ninety-nine cases out of ahundred receive the same answer from everyprofessional chemist. But. the doctors ofPhilosoph"y do not seem to have made uptheir minds on a single point. They haveno primer or catechism to place in the handsof their novices, no principle or axiom whichthey can affirm to be incontestably true.The outsider need not be initiated into themysteries of Philosophy in order to see thatdisorder and anarchy are its leading charac-teristics. The din of intestine strife is almost

What is Philosophy? 7the only sound that escapes from its campinto the outer world. If a house be dividedagainst itself, how shall it stand? Thehistory of .Philosophy is the history of end-less civil wars and revolutions, the history ofa chaos on which order has not yet begun to'dawn. Systems of thought that flourish inone age are either anathematized or ignoredin the next. Rival systems, so far as theypretend to be scientific, are mutually destruc-tive; and each age in turn is the scene of anew conflict. Nay, the very platform onwhich the different schools meet and wrangle.changes from age to age. The arena whichwas wide enough for the combatants of onecentury is too narrow for those of another.Problems that perplexed the minds and agi-tated the hearts of our forefathers seem trivialor meaningless to the thinkers of to-day.Assumptions that seem to-day to provide asolid basis of controversy. ~ill be rejectedto-morrow as hollow and unsound All is. in

8 What is Philosophy?flux. Nothing is fixed or certain. WhatChillingworth said of the Church of Romeapplies with tenfold force to Philosophy:U There are popes against popes, councilsagainst councils, some fathers against otherfathers, the same fathers against themselves,a consent of fathers of one age against a con-sent of fathers of another age, the Church ofone age against the Church of another age."

I admit that Science too has its unsolvedproblems, its doubtful points, its controversies,its changes not merely of opinion but even ofauthoritative teaching. To speak of it asprogressive is to take such characteristics asthese for granted. But Science is a sphere(unlike those which glide through space)whose surface may be molten or even ne-bulous, yet which has none the less a solidcentre of truth. And as what is nebulousbecomes molten, and what is molten gradu-ally cools and solidifies, the hard inward coreof accepted truth gains both in size and den-

What is Philosophy? 9sity. The sphere of Philosophy, on the otherhand, nebulous at the surface, is incandescentto the very centre.

That individual philosophers have pro-digious confidence in themselves and theirtheories is indeed undeniable; but the acer-bity with which they maintain their opinionsshows that their minds are really corrodedwith secret doubt. The odum ph'osophicumis scarcely less virulent than the odZ:um theo-logi&um, and anger is always a storm-signal,a proof of mental agitation, not of mentalrepose. Perfect certitude is always calm andcold. Noone would dream of being angrywith the harmless lunatics who maintain thatthe surface of the earth is flat. In t~e bor-derland of Science there is no doubt muchheat and pugnacity; but in the regions overwhich Science has fully established its autho-rity, there is a perpetual Pax Romana, anatmosphere of inviolable calm.

The reason why Science is able to

10 What is Philosophy?arrive at certainty is that it starts from cer..tainty; and the reason why it is able tostart from certainty is that the sphere of itswork is one in which the separation, theprovisional and hypothetical separation, ofsubject from object is complete, the result ofthis being that no cloud of personality ob.trudes itself betwee~ the mind and the thingsthat it studies. To examine the foundationsof mathematical certitude would involve mein a long and probably futile digression; but,speaking generally, it may be said that the datawith which Science deals are furnished by thebodily senses-perceptive faculties which areequally developed (within certain undefinablelimits) in all sane and healthy persons, and

~hich therefore operate alike, or with diffe.rences which can easily be corrected, in all whouse them. (When I say this, I am thinkingless of the individual senses than of theirconcerted action). It stands to reason thatif the senses operated differently in different

What is Philosophy? IIpe~ns, if they conveyed even slightly dif-ferent messages to different minds, somethingof self-of the individual self-would enterinto every act of perception, with the resultthat the distinction between subject and ob-ject would begin to break down, and the at-mosphere through which things are discerned,instead of being perfectly clear and calm,woul~ become cloudy and electrical,-a con-dition of things which is always incompatiblewith certainty and fatal to serenity of mind.It is the universal element in sense-percep-tion which makes the foundations of Scienceso sure, and the materials with which it buildsso solid and strong.

The connexion between universality andcertai~tymay, of course, be looked at from asomewhat different point of view. The factthat a perceptive fac~lty is cc constant andcommon, shared by all and perpetual in all,"shows that it is natural (in the fullest senseof t~eword); and the naturalness of a per

12 What is Philosophy?tive faculty is a sufficient guarantee (sufficientde facto as well as de )u1"e) of its trustworthi..ness. What it is my nature to perceive thatI do "and must perceive. The ruling ofNature. once it has been clearly defined, isdecisive and irreversible,-and that for theplain reason that there is no higher Court ofA ppeaI. 0 ~Q,Jla,"POJJI Ta,VT'IV T~V ",.itTT,,)' ov ".4)'11"""tTTOTEpa, epei. The loneliest of specialists isarmed, while he conducts his delicate andrecondite investigations, with the full autho-rity of Nature; and in virtue of this he mayfairly claim to be the Plenipotentiary andHigh Commissioner of Humanity in thepetty domain which he is content to explore.

But whichever view we may take of theconnexion between universality and certainty,we must not fail to remind ourselves thatuniversality may be and sometimes is purelypotential, and that therefore there might becases in which certitude would be legitimateeven though one were alone, or almost alone,

What is Philosophy? 13against the world. For example, it is quiteconceivable that there are perceptive facul-ties latent in all of us-clairvoyant senses,let us call them-which some men havebrought, or at any rate might bring, to matu-rity: and it is quite conceivable that reason,or perhaps some higher development ofreason, d~ing with the data of these senses,as the scientist's reasoning faculties deal withthe data of the bodily senses, might arrive atscientific truths as real and as incontestableas those of physical science, but immeasur-ably' larger and deeper. These clairvoyantsenses would operate alike in all who wereable to use them, and for the rest of mankindthey and the things that they revealed wouldsimply not exist. Therefore for those whocould use such senses, the provisional separ-ation of subject from object would be com-plete, and no cloud of personality (in thenarrower sense of the word) would disturbthe clear and calm atmosphere through

14 What is Philosophy?which the mind perceived the objects of itsthought. And so our clairvoyant investiga-tor, feeling sure that all who had actualizedtheir higher senses saw things exactly as hesaw them, would rightly feel certain both ofhis facts and of his conclusions; and withhim, as with the physicist, certitude wouldfind its counterpart in serenity of mind. Thetruths which he might discover, if taught toordinary men, would seem to be worse thanfoolishness, and would probably irritate thosewho heard them to the verge of madness;but he would no more dream of being angrywith his fellow-men for not seeing whathe saw and knowing what he knew, thanyou or

lI wollld dream of being angry with

the blind for not possessing the use of theireyes.

As in Philosophy there is neither cer-tainty nor serenity, we may fairly concludethat the sphere of its work is one in whichthe (provisional) distinction between subject

What is Philosophy? .I 5and object breaks down more or less com..pletely; and as a reason for this we mayperhaps conjecture that the great matters inwhich Philosophy exercises itself cannot becontemplated without emotion, and that asour emotional senses, though actually ex-istent in all men,' are differently developedin different persons and convey differentmessages to different minds, the atmospherethrough which things are seen in Philosophymust needs be heavily charged with theelectrical clouds of individuality, -cloudswhich make clearness of vision and serenityof mind alike impossible. I will presentlyKO into this question more fully. Mean-while, if we are to warn Philosophy off thedomain of Science, we must also warnScience not to usurp the functions of Philo-

. sophy. Men of Science sometimes talk as ifScience had an official philosophy and evenan official creed. This is a pure delusion.Science, as such, has no philosophy and ~o

16 What is Philosophy?creed If men of science are interested inphilosophy, they are interested in it, not asmen of science, but as men. The connectionbetween scientific study and philosophicalbias is always accidental, not essential. Whatwe habitually do no doubt reacts on whatwe are, and what we are determines whatwe believe and think. But Science, as such,is no more responsible for the philosophyof the scientist than is Art, as such, forthe philosophy of the artist, or Commerce,as such, for the philosophy of the merchant.Science (as we understand the word) workson a particular plane of existence, thephysical plane, the plane which is revealedto us, or at any rate opened up to us by ourbodily senses. Of this plane only a part,perhaps only a small fraction, has been fullysurveyed. Beyond the ever advancing limitsof this explored region lies a world which asyet, is either wholly unknown or has onlyjust begun to be explored. Potentially this

What is Philosophy? 17unknown world belongs to Science, not toPhilosophy. Whenever Science discovers anew island or a new continent on the surfaceof its own sphere of work, it is but. right thatit should regard this,unexplored land as itsown, that it should plant its flag on its shores,and warn off all possible intruders. Butbeyond and above the physical plane (thefrontiers of which are, of cou.rse, undefinable),beyond and above the certainties of Science,beyond and above its infinite potentialitiesof certainty, stretches the rest of the Universe(I am using the word in its very widest andfreest sense); and in this larger world, wherecertainty is unattainable in the present stageof our mental development, speculation ispermissible, and Philosophy is in possession,though not necessarily in sole or in per-manent possession, of the field of thought.Even the clairvoyant scientist, though itmight be his lot to explore some of the veryregions in which Philosophy IS now working,

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18 What is Philosophy?would not be a Philosopher. The resultsof his labours would be Science-Scienceincomparably larger, loftier, and deeper thananything that we can dream of.-but stillScience, not Philosophy. Many of the pro-blems that at present exercise the thoughts ofphilosophers might find their solution in histeaching; but in the act of being solvedthey would cease to belong to Philosopnyand would be transferred to the domain ofScience. It is indeed conceivable that, withthe further development of human nature,Science will be able to advance from thephysical to higher planes of existence; andthat. as it advances, Philosophy will retirebefore it, abandoning fields of thoughtthrough which it is at present free to range.But it may safely be predicted that Philo-sophy will never lack its own appropriatesphere of work. The great ideas that un-derlie Science, the great ideas that governit, the great ideas that emerge from its

What is Philosophy? 19teaching, all belong, as 'ideas, not to Sciencebut to -Philosophy. It is a truism to say thatall knowledge implies the unknowable;' thatall proof implies .the ' unprovable; that alldefinition implies the undefinable; that suc:-cess, achievement, I whatever form it 'maytake, is always made possible by "an eitviron-ing atmosphere of failure. It follows .that,wherever there is Science, there is room andthere is need for Philosophy,-for a philo-sophy which shall underlie Science, and in~'terpenetrate it and overarch it. I say this;not with any immediate intention of definingthe sphere of Philosophy, but only in orderto show that the sphere of Science, thoughinfinite in one sense, is limited in others, aridthat Science cannot overpass those limitswithout foregoing its privileges' and advan-tages, and eventually losing its identity. Thatthere is a debatable land between Sciencearid Philosophy-a land in which the' twoauthorities- dispute for mastery-is undeilia-

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20 What is Philosophy?bly true; but this does not alter the fact thateach has its own appropriate sphere of work,a sphere in which its essential characteristicsare exhibited clearly and fully, a sphere whichis wholly its own, and from which it has aright to warn off the other.

Let us next distinguish Philosophy fromPoetry. The at,m of Philosophy is, in thelast resort, scientific. The Thinker tries toseparate himself from the objects of histhought, tries to study them coldly, imper-sonally, dispassionately, in order that he mayget to know the truth a60ut them, in orderthat he may form conceptions of them orframe theories about them which shall beintrinsically and unconditionally true. ThePoet, on the other hand, tries to know thetruth of things by becoming one with them,by merging his being in theirs. The imagi-native sympathy which enables him, in somesort and some measure, to become one withthings, gives him insight into their vital and

What is Philosophy? 2 ressent~al properties; and as his insight reactsupon and intensifies pis sympathy, the timecomes at last when his kindled emotion over-flows of its own accord into impassionedspeech. Those to whom his words appealare able to some extent to share his inwardexperiences, until at last they are admitted,through the magic of his song, into the truth,the inner truth, of the things which it is hismission to interpret. To these persons he isable to say, U I have been one, if only for amoment, with the things which I sing of, andhaving shared their identity, I can tell youwhat they really are." But far from imagin-ing that his account of things is true for allmen, he knows perfectly well that it .is onlytrue for those who are able to feel wltat hehas felt. In other words, his attitude to-wards things is in the highest degree per-sonal and emotional. With abstract truth,the truth alJout things, truth which is intrinsi-cally valid whether men accept it or not, he

Wh~t is Philosophy?doe$ not concern himself in the slightes.'degree.

The Thinker then differs from the Poetin that. he tries, not to know things, but toknow the truth about them; whereas hediffers from the Scientist in that he tries toknow the truth about things which are notknowable, in the scientific sense of the word.Or let us put the matter thus :-The Poettries to know the inmost truth of things: theScientist tries to know all about the appear-ances of things: the Thinker tries to knowall about the inmost truth (or inmost essence)of things.

. Again, the Thinker differs from the Poetin that he tries to separate himself from theobjects of his thought and to deal with themimpersonally and disinterestedly; whereas hediffers from the Scientist in that his person-ality inevitably obtrudes itself between his.mind and the objects of his thought. Or, toput the matter more concisely :-in Scienre

What is Philosophy ? 23personality is nothing; in Poetry personalityis everything; in Philosophy personality 'isever striving, consciously striving, to becomeimpersonal.

Here we come to what is, I think, reallydifferential in Philosophy. The chief, per-haps the final, reason why the things in whichthe Thinker exercises himself are too highand too deep for him, is that his personalitydoes and must obtrude itself between hi~and them; or rather because the objects ofhis thought interpenetrate and transfigurehis personality, because they constitute histroe self, because they are the breath of hisinner being and the life of his inmost soul.The truth is that, in conceiving of the. Uni-verse as external to himself, he necessarilyrelinquishes it to Science,-the physical planeto physical science, the superphysical planes(if such there be) to superphysical sciences:for to externalize the Universe is to postulatethe validity of the distinction between subject"

24 What is Philosophy?and object; in other words~ it is to imply thatall existent things are cognizable by percep-tive faculties akin or at least analogous tothose with which we cognize the mat~rialworld; and it is in the data of such facultiesthat Science finds and will always find i~appropriate materials. Thus in trying tobecome impersonal, in trying to separatehimself from the realities wl1ich he seeks toexplore, the Thinker is compelled to invadethe domain-actual or potential-of Science;and being rightly expelled from that domainas an intruder (for Science may fairly say toPhilosophy, U If the world is really externalto the mind, it is for me to explore it, not foryou "), he has no choice but to return to hisstarting poin~ and re-discover the Universein himself. And so, while he is trying (inperfect good faith) to solve the great pro-blems that perplex him, and perhaps flatter-ing himself (also in perfect good faith) thathe is making U first-rate metaphysical disco-

What is Philosophy? 2Sveries JJ (to quote the grotesque words ofa thinker who lacked the saving grace ofhumour), he is really engaged in communingwith his own soul and in striving to wrestfrom it the secrets of its inner life.

II.

Let us now try to make. ou.r way tothe fountain-head of Philosophy. As truthranges between the antipodal poles of thescientific and the poetic ideals, so does know-ledge range between the antipodal poles ofclear conscious apprehension and blind in-stinctive groping,-the latter a kind of know-ing which, in the last resort, is scarcely dis-tinguishable from mere being. Examples inillustration and support of this conception ofknowledge are ready, in plenty, to one's hand.It will suffice if I contrast the knowledge thata mathematician has of the properties of atriangle, or a chemist of the properties ofoxygen, with the knowledge that I have ofthe soul of a dear and intimate friend. Close,subtle, penetrative, sympathetic, the latterkind of knowledge belongs to a region which

What is' Philosophy? 27is. but faintly illuminated by the light of con-sciousness. That it is real knowledge isproved by the fact that it enables me to findmy !faY through the most complicated of allmazes, to solve correctly the most delicateand difficult of all practical problems. Thatit i~ in large measure blind, instinctiye, andimplicit is proved by the fact that only asmall fraction of it admits of being formu-lated or even of being informally presentedto my consciousness. I cannot explain to

mysel~ still less can I explain to a byst~nder.why, in such and such a case, I act towardsmy friend in such and such a way. But mylove of my .friend and the insight that lovegives me into his character, enables myburied -self to make profound and elaboratecalculations as to the relative values of variouspossible courses ofaction,--calculationswhic~,when I apply them to the solution of theconcrete problems that perplex me, I find tohave been correctly made. This example

28 What is Philosophy?shows that there is, as Diotima suggests, anintermediate state, or rather many interme-diate states, between (TO"',. and d,p4'"',between perfect knowledge and blank igno-rance. And this is what we have everyreason to expect. For, after all, the rangeof knowledge between the poles of conscious-ness and unconsciousness is but one aspect,one among many, of the general range ofhuman nature. The idea of the 6urietl life,of the vie profontle, of the. sublz,,,,nal self,the idea that we are what we really are, notwhat we seem to be, that we think what wereally think, not what we say we think, that webelieve what we really believe, not what weprofess to believe,-has of late years wonmany adherents and may fairly claim to haverooted itself in human' thought. The idea isin the highest degree suggestive and illumi-native, but we must be on our g'uard againstmisinterpreting it. The personality of man-of each individual man-has been likened

What is Philosophy? 29to an iceberg, which rises high abo~e the seain which it floats, though by far the largerpart of it is submerged and invisible. Thissimile is, I think, misleadingly dualistic. Themovements of Nature are, as a rule, con-tinuous rather than spasmodic. To say thatman's life is either immersed in the darknessof mere being, or exposed, like an icebergglittering in the sunshine, to the full light ofconsciousness, is to go back to that crudepsychology from which the conception of thesub-conscious self is designed to deliver us~Reasoning from analogy, one may surely surmise that the dawn of consciousness on thelife of man is and has ever been as gradualand indeterminable as the approach of day-light, in our northern latitudes, at the closeof a summer night.

To this general conception (which wemay, perhaps, accept as a working hypo-thesis) there are certain obvious corollaries.The first is that unconscious apprehension is '

30 What is Philosophy?prior in time to conscious knowledge and isat any given moment working in advance ofit That man acts, feels, and perceives beforehe thinks; that instinct is in the field beforereason; that genius works ahead of intelli-gence; that knowledge must exist before onecan become aware of its presence; that intui-tion must prepare the way for inference; thatthe yarn of experience must be spun beforeit can be woven ;--a11 these are self-evidenttruths which hold good of the individuallife not less than of the life of collectiveHumanity.

The second corollary is an obvious ex-tension of the first As the unconscious (orsub-conscious) side of one is ever workingahead of one's consciousness, it is also (un-less indeed growth and progress are retro-grade movements) ever dealing with higherrealities, and ever nearer to the truth ofthings. I am expressing the same idea inother words when I say that conscious appre-o

What is Philosophy? 3,1hension of a troth implies unconscious (orsub-conscious) apprehension of a higher andwider troth. Thus consciously to apprehenda fact is unconsciously to apprehend a law.Consciously to pass an isolated judgment isunconsciously to apprehend and apply a prin:'ciple. Consciously to determine on and doa noble action is unconsciously to grasp andcleave to a spiritual idea. But the law ishigher than the fact. The principle is higherthan the judgment. The idea is higher thanthe impulse to action.

The third coronary is scarcely more thana restatement of the second. To say thatthe sub-conscious self is at any given momentdealing with higher realities than those whichpresent themselves to one's consciousness isto imply that the troelife of man is buried;that the troe self is a hidden self; that thehigher side of man's being, the side that isconversant with Nature's inner mysteries,lives and works for the most part in the

32 What is Philosophy?darkness of the unconscious life. In sup-port of this thesis I will content myself withnaming two words, insp-lratio", and ge","-us.The beliefs and conceptions that centre inthese words are so widely spread and sopersistent, that experience-the collective ex-perience of the race-alone could have gene-rated them; and it is clear that if they are tofind a natural explanation, we must interpretthem by the light of the idea which I amnow. trying to formulate.

I pass on to a fourth conception--corol-lary I can scarcely call it-which will enableme to rehabilitate reason and consciousness.So far I may have seemed to suggest thatthe sole function of consciousness is to garnerthe fruits Qf the buried life or (like the admin-istrative officials who follow in the wake of aconqueror) to organize the provinces whichinstinct and intuition have gradually con-quered. But consciousness has a deepermeaning than this and a higher function. I

What is Philosophy? 33have said that conscious apprehension of atruth implies unconscious apprehension of ahigher and wider truth. No doubt it does;but what is the precise meaning of the word.. implies"? Would it not be equally correctto say that conscious apprehension of a truthprepares the way for unconscious apprehen-sion of a higher and wider truth, preparesthe way for it and makes it possible? Thevery fact that one has become aware of theknowledge that one possesses is a stimulusto further effort on the part of the unconsciousself. F or it is a tendency of human nature-a master tendency which operates on everyplane of man's being-to be dissatisfied withwhat has been won and to press on towardsthe unattained. And so the man who con-sciously apprehends a fact is already, thoughhe may not know it, dissatisfied with the factas such. He has already begun to ask him-self, in some secret recess of his mind, "Whatdoes the fact mean ? What is its place and

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34 What is Philosophy?purpose in Nature? What causes have pro-duced it? What laws does it exemplify? UHis mind is already beginning, blindly andgropingly, to feel its way towards the law orwider fact in which the isolated phenomenonis grounded and through which it is explained.So too when a man becomes aware of anemotional idea which has long ruled his heart,in the very act of bringing it under the con-trol of his consciousness, he causes it to drawin from far and near its hidden reserves andsupports (that through these it may justifyjtself to his reason),-to draw these into aregion of his sub-conscious life in which it ispossible for them to shape themselves, byslow degrees and by a spontaneous processof which he has no cognizance, into newemotional ideas, ready when their turn comesto be transmuted by consciousness into newthoughts. These examples suggest to us thatconsciousness, by stimulating the subliminalself into ever fresh .activity, may well become

What is Philosophy? 35one of the most potent of the forces that makefor the evolution of the inner life.

We now begin to see a meaning and apurpose in Philosophy. Its dream of con-sciously knowing the final truth about thingsis of all dreams the idlest; but it may wellbe that the soul has sub-conscious knowledgeof truths deeper than any that can presentthemselves to consciousness, and it may wellbe that Philosophy will help to bring this

sub-~onscio~s knowledge to the birth. Thetrue life is a buried life; and the true self isa hidden self: Far down in the "abysmaldeeps" of the soul dwells the thing which foreach of us is of eternal and transcendent sig-nificance,-the genuine faith of the man;the faith which is the inward counterpart ofcharactert the invisible side of personality,the hidden source of spiritual energy; thereal attitude of the man towards the world inwhich he finds himself; the actual, living,ever-changing response made by his soul to

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36 What is Philosophy?the realities that environ it, that underlie it,that overshadow it, that stream through allthe deeper channels of its life. To determinewhat that response is, is beyond the power ofthought, for the reason-one among many-~at it is, as I have just said, a living andtherefore an ever-changing response; but ifwe may never hope to know what we really.believe, it by no means follows that we areto rest content with our ignorance. To saythat all men are equally endowed with faith,and therefore all equally near to the inmosttruth of things, would be a glaring misuseof language. It is impossible to define thelimits of the individual life as we descendinto the depths of the buried self; but it istolerably certain that the objective presenceof spiritual Nature in the soul, however realit may be, does not constitute the man's per-sonality except so far as it is brought intothose sub-conscio~s regionsof his life whichmediate between the light of his conscious

What is Philosophy? 37ness and the total darkness in which all his'attempts to explore himself invariably end.Faith (as I understand the word) differs fromfaith, just as character differs from character jand the difference between faith and faith islargely determined by the individual's capa..city for actualizing the potentialities of faith,or, in other words, for drawing jnto his ownlife the waters that rise from those darkreservoirs of spirituality which are the veryhead-springs of ideal truth. Men are respon-sible, within certain undefinable limits, fortheir faith, just as they are responsible fortheir character; and the reaction of whatthey think and say and do on what they areis just as inevitable and just as decisive inthe one case as in the other. It is the dutyof each of us to deepen and purify his faith jand the best, perhaps the only way of doingthis is to utilize every opportunity of provi-ding outlets for the imprisoned waters, andso causing a constant current to set from the

38 What is Philosophy?deeper sources of spiritual reality in the direc-tion of the individual1ife.

Now there are three chief outlets for thehidden energies of faith. The first is that.of conduct,. the second is that of poetry (orcreative art); the third is that of tkought.Of these three outlets the third alone is ofspecial interest to us in our present inquiry.The great problems of life cannot be solvedon the plane of thought, and yet it is ourduty to try to think them out. For con-sciousness is, as we have recently seen, oneof the chief means of stimulating the uncon-

sciou~ self into fresh activity. And so, if wewish to deepen and strengthen our faith, ifwe wish to make it live and grow, one of ourfirst duties is to try to become 'conscious .ofit, to get to know (so far as may be possible)what it really is.

To undertake this task is the functionof Philosophy. Philosophical speculation issomething more than a mere pastime for our

What is Philosophy? 39idle hours, something more than a mere gameof skill, something more than a mere exercisefor our mental muscles. Hopeless though itit and must ever be of any definite issue,involved though it is and must ever be in alogically vicious circle of thought, it is yet byfar the most important thing that a man cando with his mind, the thinking part of him ;and that, not because of any material resultthat it will achieve (for it will never achieveany), nor because of any scientific truth thatit will reach (for it will never reach any), butbecause of its salutary reaction, its stimulatinginfluence on the inner life of the soul. Foras, when water is pumped up from a deepwell, fresh supplies from yet deeper sourcescome in to take its place; so, when a man'ssub-conscious faith is brought within the kenof his consciousness, a yet profounder faith is.raised to the sub-conscious level, and the placethat this profounder faith has left empty isfilled by potencies of spiritual. emotion which

40 What is Philosophy?are drawn from deeper and darker reservoirs,till the quickening action of consciousness ORfaith reaches at last to the darkest depths orthe inward life. Or as, when clouds aresucked up by the sun from the bosom of thesea, currents are generated which circulatethrough all the length and breadth of theocean-world, and descend far into its depths,so the ideas which consciousness distils fromthe ocean of the cc subliminal self" cause, asthey ascend into the ether of thought, a con-tinuous stream of sub-conscious movementwhich is the spiritual life of the soul as surelyas complete stagnation is its spiritual death.

To think about great matters with anyapproach to lucidity is given to very few men.To exercise the gift, if one happens to havebeen dowered with it, is a high and sacredduty. For, apart from the quickening in-fluence of speculation on the buried life of theThinker, his thoughts, when systematized andformulated, may well become the means of

What is Philosophy? 41helping others to think and, through themedium of thinking, to open new outlets forthe imprisoned waters of their faith. Systemsof thought, though always valueless as sys-tems, are of immense and inexhaustible value,as providing channels of communication be-tween the mind of the Thinker and the mindsof those who are able to respond to his in-fluence. The loneliest sage that ever woreout his life in apparently fruitless meditationwas thinking, not for himself alone but forall his fellow men. While he seemed to beweaving mere webs of words, he was reallyteaching thousands and tens of thousands ofmen, teaching them, not by the cogency or .his logic but by the stimulating influence orhis thoughts, to think out the great problemsof life, and by so doing to strengthen theirsouls to solve them.

III.

Wleat do I really lJel':eve? is the first andlast question which, as a philosopher, I amcalled upon to answer. As thought is ev~rreacting upon and modifying feeling, it standsto reason that the very process of my thinkingwill transform the faith which is the object ofmy thought. In other words, the very effortthat I make to elaborate an answer to myquestion will make the answer, when given,null and void. This much may be foreseenat the outset; yet it need not deter me fromproceeding. In its attempt to solve this per-sonal problem, Philosophy is constrained, bythe very stress and bias of things, to become,or try to become, impersonal. What is myreal attitude, the real attitude of my true self:towards the world in which I find myself:This attitude, whatever it may be, when con-

What is Philosophy? 43sciously realized, will take the form of ageneral conception of myself and myenviron-ment, of an all-embracing cc the~ry of things."How is such a theory to be framed? Inpart at least by the use of the faculty whichframes or helps to frame all theories, thefaculty which we call reason. If we askreason to work for us, we must expect it towork in accordance with the laws of its being,we must expect it to follow the methods thathappen to be congenial to its nature. Nowthese methods will be best studied where theywork most successfully: and the field ,in whichthey work most successfully is unquestionablythat of Science. As reason bears itself inScience, so will it bear itsel~ mutatis mu-tands, in Philosophy. The essential featuresof scientific method will be reproduced byreason, when it applies itself to the study ofphilosophical problems, reproduced just so faras is compatible with the profoundly alteredconditions under which it will have to work.

44 What is Philosophy?In Philosophy, as in Science, reason will

start by assuming that Nature is worthy ofthe trust that we instinctively repose in her,and will infer from this assumption that theguarantee of Nature is the ultimate criterionof truth. What it is my nature to perceive,that I do and must perceive. What it is mynature to believe, that I do and must believe.Here we come to the bedrock on whichreason builds all its structures, and fromwhich it quarries all its materials.

In Philosophy, as in Science, reason willbe inspired and guided by faith in the essen-tial unity of Nat~re, and by the derivativeconviction that universality, whether act~alor potential, is the proof of naturalness, andtherefore the penultimate criterion of truth.But the search for unity, which is so congenial to reason, will for obvious reasonstake a widely different form in philosophyfrom what it takes in science. The studentof physical nature has to deal with what are

What is Philosophy? 4Svulgarly ~led objective facts. These arehis materials, and in these he tries to discoverthe underlying and 'unifying network of causesand laws. The student of inward nature hasto deal with feelings and expressions of feel-ing which are as changeable and evanescentas the clouds on an April day; and his workis to discover the hidden reality of whichthese, as they shift and pass, are the transientforms and undecipherable symbols. Thephysicist begins with certainty even whenhe begins with doubt; for though (to takean example) he may not be able to explainwhy the lawn is wet after a clear and cloud-less night, he is quite certain that there is dewon the grass. The universal element in per-ception is ready to his hand; and so he cangive his mind to the work of discovering theuniversal element or elements in the thingsthat he perceives. The thinker can neverhope to escape from the task of searc~ing forthe universal element in the inward expe.

46 What is Philo'sophy?riences, in the spiritual perceptions of man-kind. Where the physicist begins, he aspiresto end, with that subjective universality whichprovides the basis of certainty on which allthe structures of science are built. But intruth he has never done with beginning. Thedepths of the inner life are unfathomable;and in his attempt to explore them he is everlaying foundations on which he will never beable to build.

But, however hopeless may be the searchfor universality in belief, it will have to bemade. Indeed it is clear from what has justbeen said, that when reason undertakes thetask which I have set it, the task of deter-mining the real tendencies of my own innerlife, its first assumption-that Nature is thefountain of truth-will at once have to bereinforced and even interpreted by its secondassumption,-that universality is the proofand measure of Nature. What it is mynature to believe that I do and must believe;

What is Philosophy? 47and if I could but ascertain what I really am,I should be in possession of ideal truth, or ofsO'much of it as it is possible for me to assi-milate. But how am I to distinguish thereal from the apparent tendencies of myinner life? How am I to find out whatNature sanctions me in believing or (shall Isay?) constrains me to believe? Evidently,if I am to follow, at however great a dis-tance, the lead of Science, by determiningthe universal element in faith. I must tryto discover the lineaments of that vital andessential humanity which, when broughtwithin the scope (so far as that is possible)of my individual being, makes me what' Ireally am. I must try to read myself throughthe medium of my kind.

Now there are two ways and two only ofsearching for the universal element in things.We must try to determine either their great-est common measure of differential actuality,or what I may provisionally call their com-

48 What is Philosophy?mon ideal. It will be found that the greatestcommon measure of actuality in similar thingsis, as a rule, but one degree removed fromnothing, and that the greatest common mea-sure of differential actuality is, as a rule,exactly nothing. More especially is this thecase when we deal with the phenomena oflife. Let us take the case of a hundredpeaches, in various stages of development,from the hard green excrescence which hasbut just shed its bloom up to the ripe andluscious fruit. What have these in common?Actually, nothing. Potentially, the perfec-tion of peach-hood. The universal elementin them is the type which all exemplify, theideal which all are striving to realize. So,again,-to pass to a higher level of Iife-ifwe were to examine all the poems that hadbeen written since the world began, with aview to determining what poetry really is,we should have to admit that their greatestcommon measure of differential actuality was

What IS Philosophy? 49exactly nothing, and that what was reallycommon to them all was the ideal which theyhad striven in their several ways to realize,-an ideal, the nature of which could best -beascertained by studying the acknowledgedmasterpieces of song.

As it is with peaches and with poems, soit is with those inward and spiritual pheno-mena which Philosophy seeks to interpret.Here, indeed, the idea of finding a commonmeasure of actuality must be abandoned atthe very outset. In the region of the innerlife, with its ceaseless ferment of spiritualforces, there is no actuality. Everything isIv 'Yevetre", in process of development. It isthe greatest common measure of potentialitythat we need to determine; and the searchfor this will as certainly carry us towards in-finity-the infinity of unattainable perfection-as the search for the greatest commonmeasure of actuality will carry us towardszero. If peaches, in their various stages of

E

So What is Philosophy?development. have nothing in common butthe potentiality of ideal peach-hood; if poems,of all sorts and kinds, have nothing in com-mon but the potentiality of ideal or perfectpoetry; does it not follow, (J fortion: thatthere is nothing common to the various faithsof men except the ideal which all are strug-gling to realize, and by which all are animatedand sustained? The faith of the best of menis an imperfect embodiment of this ideal.The faith of the average man is but an em-bryonic form of it. The faith of the mostdegraded of men is its apparently lifelessseed. But it is itself in all faiths, from lowestto highest. as surely as the peach-nature, withall its possibilities of sweetness and beauty, isin all peaches, from the least developed tothe most mature.

Here then, as elsewhere, and here if no-where else, that universal element in thingswhich is the proof of Nature, and as such thecounterpart of reality and truth, is the ideal.

What is Philosophy? 51To. determine what I do believe, what thereal faith of my soul is, is to determine whatI ought to believe. In trying to determinethis. reason, whose function is to i.ntroduceunity into multiplicity and order into chaos,will be undertaking a congenial task. Forhere, as elsewhere, and here if nowhere else,

~he ideal is the unifying and organizing ele-ment in things, the all-pervading bond ofkinship, the paramount principle of harmonyand order.

The search for what is universal in faithtransforms itself at the outset into the searchfor ideal faith. I have already pointed outthat faith, when consciously realized, becomesa quasi -philosophical conception, a quasi-theory of the Universe. If this be so, thenthe search for ideal faith, when undertakenby reason, must needs become a search fornothing less than the true ce theory of things,"the ideal goal of all spe~ative thought.

But how is such a the~ry to be evolved?B-2

52 What is Philosophy?Can we hope to reproduce in philosophythose inductive processes of Science by'which theories are distilled from experience?I think not. In Science induction is practic-able because physical phenomena are thesame, qua phenomena, for all who perceivethem. But in philosophy the facts that offer

I

themselves for our investigation-the leadingphenomena of man's inward and spiritual life-will, tell us noth':ng-, will have no definitephenomenal existence, until we have begunto interpret them; and it is only by the light

. of our general conception of Nature that wecan attempt to interpret them. Moreover,in our search for the ideal element in faith,we must follow the phenomena of humanfaith inward and inward into that darknessof the buried life which is the'ultimate sourceof ideal truth. And this means that wemust turn our backs on them quaphenomena,always preferring the unconscious to theconscious testimony of the human soul, and

What is Philosophy? 53. always ignoring outward facts until they'haveyielded up their inner meaning, which, ofcourse, they will not begin to do (for eachman in turn must wrest their. meaning fromthem) until we have studied them from thestandpoint of our own dominant conceptions.

Even in Science the inductive processesare, as a rule, greatly abridged' by the usethat is made of hypotheses. The part thatimagination plays in scientific investigationhas not been ignored by the students ofscientific method, but I doubt if full justicehas ever been done to it. The experienceand the imagination of the physicist are everacting and reacting on one another. Fromfirst to last he selects, arranges, and studieshis facts by the light of the successive hypo-theses which his experience of the facts sug-gests to his' mind.. These hypotheses mayor may not be consciously realized; it is pro-bable that many of them haye but a sub-conscious existence; but their wo~k is not

54 What is Philosophy ?the less effective because it is carried on forthe most part in secret.

This feature of scientific method is. Ithink, the very Alpha and Omega of philo-sophic method. its starting point, its road,and its goal. Disguise it from ourselves aswe may. a system of thought is nothing butan expanded and elaborated guess. Thepersonality of the thinker-itself an abori-ginal and inalienable assumption--controlsthe whole movement of his thought and pre-determines its ultimate issue. The genesisof his master-hypothesis is a subtle and com-plicated process, the steps in which cannotbe set forth with any approach to precision.while the part that reason actually plays in itis wrapped in inscrutable mystery. To putforward one's "theory of things" as a conclu-sion rather than an assumption. to pretend tohave generalized it from experience. to haveevolved it from the observation and investiga-tion of appropriate facts, would savour either

What is Philosophy? Ssof dishonesty or, of self-deception. Not fora moment are we to ignore the salient fa~tsof our spiritual life. Confronting us, as theydo, at every tum, these facts will not sufferus to ignore them; and, if we are wise, weshall make them the objects, if not of scien-tific study, then of lifelong meditation. Butwe must not flatter ourselves that we havelogically "gathered" from them the verytheory of life, the very way of looking atthings which has made them what they are-to us. It is not by furnishing us with thedata for any quasi-scientific process of induc-tion that these inward phenomena help us toframe our theories of things, but by actuallyinfluencing our thoughts and feelings. Thatin the movement of our inner life there issomething of the nature of an induction fromthe facts that environ it is more than probable;but the process is so wholly instinctive andunconscious, so entirely under the control ofthe secret and quasi-objective logic of Nature,

56 What is Philosophy?that the name of induction, with its scientificassociations, cannot well be applied to it.

When a hypothesis has been framed itsworth has to be tested. How is this done?By seeing how it works. Can this featureof scientific method be reproduced in Phi-losophy ? Consciously to reproduce it isimpracticable, as impracticable and, if at-tempted, as delusive, as the reproduction inPhilosophy of the inductive processes ofScience. If we draw deductions from ourU theory of things," and then try to provethat these are borne out by experience,we lay ourselves open to the charge ofhaving interpreted our facts by the lightof the very hypothesis which we are ask-ing them to substantiate. As for testinga philosophical theory experimentally,-the

.man who frames such a theory can, if hepleases, live by it and see how it works: butthis experimental test will have no scientificvalue; for, however convincing it may be to

What is Philosophy? 57the experimenter, it is in the main too inward,too subjective, to appeal to anyone but him;and so far as it does produce perceptible re...suIts, these will suggest different conclusionsto, and will even be referred to different causesby, different minds. That one's theory of lifeis subje~ted to a searching test in the buriedlife of the soul can scarcely be doubted; butthe steps in this process cannot be traced norits correctness (in the logical sense of the~ord) determined. Yet the process has anissue, and one the meaning of which cannoteasily be mistaken. Give your theory tothat sub-conscious part of you from whichyour reason professed to distil it: let yourheart and soul live with it and brood over itand try to assimilate it, and they will test itsworth. Reason has evolved the theory byhelping the individual soul to become con-scious of its faith, by helping it to read itselfand interpret itself through the medium ofsympathy with and insight into the "general

sa What is Philosophy?heart of man." And reason must test thetheory by referring it back to the individualsoul. Reason must say to the soul, (CAreyou content with this? Do you rest in it?Is it reatly yours?" And, having askedthese questions, reason must help the soul toanswer them. For here again the individualsoul must try to read itself, under the guid-ance of reason, through the medium of thesouls of others. When it verifies the theorythat is submitted to it, when it asks, "Doesthis content me ? .. it must as far as possibleuniversalize itself, it must take Humanityinto partnership with itself, it must feel the.. general heart" beating in its own.

Reason, then, must verify the hypothesesof the thinker; but only as the agent and in-terpreter of the thinker's own inner life. Itmust not dream of .subjecting them to anyspecial or quasi-professional tests of its own.It must not expect them to be rational, inthe narrower sense of the word. It must not

What is Philosophy? 59require them to have been logically deducedfrom self-evident premises, or logically in-duced from indisputable facts. I ts businessis to help the soul to test them by its ownsecret, subtle, assimilative methods, and toaccept or reject them according as theyhave satisfied or failed to satisfy the de-mands and desires of man's inmost sel Itis in this way and no other that reason canjudge of their merits. By dying to itself asreason it will live again in that inner lifewhich it has quickened and strengthened justso far as it has helped it to know itself: Foras it advances into that shadowy region, itgradually assimilates to itself the insight andimagination of the life which it explores. Inother words, the distinction between the ra-tional and emotional sides of man's nature,between reason and faith, gradually effacesitself: and out of the fusion of these apparentopposites emerges the higher unity of the in-divisible soul. T~is-the soul, the whole

60 What is Philosophy?inner being of man-is the supreme Courtof Appeal in philosophy. A true theory oflife is one which satisfies the paramount needsof man's inner nature, one which the soul ofman can embrace and draw into itself andmake its own. And the final proof of thetheory being true is that it is entirely re-absorbed into those ocean depths of uncon-scious spirituality, in which truth loses itselfin reality, and from which (if the theory istrue, and just so far as it is true) it originallycame. The fierce light of consciousness isever distilling a haze of thought from thegreat sea of the "vie jJrofonde "; but sooneror later (if it has really come from that sea,and is no mere mirage of the thinker's brain)the haze will condense into feeling, and retu~,as a stream of emotion, to its eternal source.

As is the test to which the theorist looksforward, such, in its broad outlines, shouldbe the theory which he is preparing for veri-fication. When a physicist is framing a hypo-

What is Philosophy? 61thesis he always looks forward, perhaps halfunconsciously, to the tests that it will have toundergo; and his design in framing it is toenable it to stand those tests and emerge un-scathed from their ordeal. Something akinto this should take place in high thinking.When the thinker is feeling his way towardshis master conception of life and Nature, heshould keep steadily in view the searchingtest that the conception will have to undergowhen he submits it to the judgment of hisinner life. He must say to himself: if not inwords, then in thoughts that lie deeper thanwords: "However my theory of things maybe evolved and whatever form it may take,one thing about it is clear: it must give satis-faction, or at any rate provide for satisfactionheinI?; given, to those master desires withwhich Nature-the nature that is truly minebecause I share it with all men-with whichNature, in and through the evolution of herown master tendencies, has inspired myheart."

IV.

We are now able to set Philosophy a dis-tinct and definite task. If a philosophicaltheory is to be regarded as true or falseaccording as it is accepted or rejected bythe general heart and soul of man, then itis certain that the final function of Philo-sophy is, not to search for abstract truthbut to minister on the plane .of conscio~thought to the latent optimism in which thelife, not of man alone but of all living things,is securely rooted. The dream of the thinker.is to see things from the standpoint of thetrue self, of the ideal man. But what is thetrue self? As the being of man is still inprocess of development, we must endeavour,by ascertaining its central tendencies, to de-termine the law of its growth or, in thelanguage of mathematics, the equation to its

What is Philosophy? 63curve; and in order. to ascertain .its centraltendencies, we must study its dominant de-sires. There is no other field in which thereal movement of human nature can be soclearly traced. A natural desire -is the con-scious or semi-conscious realization of a na-tural bias; and a natural bias is generatedby the strain of natural forces, operating in acertain direction and with a certain measureof persistence and strength. Ignoring, aswe have every right to do, those elements indesire which are morbid, or local, or tempo-rary, or otherwise exceptional, we are justifiedin .saying that all our desires, from lowest tohighest, have arisen in response to Nature'shints, and in the course of our effort to utilizeher resources and adapt ourselves to her factsand laws. And as it has been, so it alwayswill be. It is through the medium of desirethat man-like every other organism-keepsopen his communications with his own ideal,the attractive force of which is the mainspring

64 What is Philosophy?of his highest energies and the counterpart ofhis highest aims. It is through the mediumof desire that the ideal invites us to pursueit; and as the germ of the ideal which is inevery heart struggles to evolve itself: ourdesires are the growing pains that bear wit-ness to its eternal effort to live. If the aimof the thinker is to see things as the idealman sees them, then it is well that he shouldsubmit his u guesses at truth n to the judg-ment of the heart's desires; for these are notmerely the heralds of the ideal's advent butthe actual influx of its dawning light.

That the theory of things which providesfor the satisfaction of the heart's desires isbound to be optimistic, in the best sense ofthe word, is a self-evident truth. Desire isalways a movement towards what seems tobe good. Indeed it is only in terms of desirethat the word good will allow itself to be de-fined; for it is only in response to the stress

an~ pressure of desire that the idea of good

What is Philosophy? 65has evolved and shaped itself in our minds.To debate the question of Nature's goodnessis therefore an impertinence,-the outcome ofan inextricable confusion of thought. Whatright have we to bring the totality of thingsunder the category of goodness when our ownconceptions of what is good have ever beenand will ever be subordinate to and depen-dent on those central movements of desire inand through which Nature discloses to us hersecrets and announces to us her will? But weneed not trouble ourselves to expose the fal-lacies of pessimism. The necessity of optim-ism is, in the last resort, physical, not logical.In the use that I have made of the word/a"""I may have seemed to prejudge this vitalquestion, but I used the word because I couldnot help myself, because there was no otherword that could take its place. Whereverthere is life there is desire, and whereverthere is desire there is trust. In this dualfeeling-dual, because desire without trust is

.,

66 What is Philosophy?wholly ineffective, while trust without desireis purely passive-we come to what is abori-ginal and protoplasmic in man's attitudetowards the world in which he .finds himself.From the least of plants up to the greatest ofmen all living things are incurable optimists.Nature has already convinced us, as she hasconvinced all living things, has convinced usin the secret recesses of our souls, that life isworth living. The highest achievement ofPhilosophy is to convince our minds of thesame fundamental truth. And this will proveto be no easy task. For trust in Nature,when consciously accepted and realized, dis-closes in itself inexhaustible potentialities ofhope and joy, and, in order to justify these tothe mind that discerns them, demands fromreason a theory of things so daringly opti-mistic that not this world and this life only.but all the realms and phases of existence,shall be transfigured by the glow of its trium-phant faith.

What is Philosophy? 67Philosophy then is in its essence a search

for an optimistic explanation of life. Thatthere are pessimists among thinkers as wellas among ordinary men is undeniable, but thefact does not disconcert me. The philosophythat originates in a pessimistic sentiment andends in a pessimistic theory is, on its ownshowing, an enterprise which has miscarried,an expedition which has gone astray. Forthe presence of doubt and despair shows thatthe heart is dissatisfied with its outlook onlife, and is seeking, perhaps unknown to itself,for spiritual help and comfort; and the thinkerwho, instead of dissipating its gloom, does butintensify it, has evidently failed to fulfil hismission,-failed because he never told himselfwhat his mission really was. The chief reasonwhy the enterprises of Philosophy so oftenand so grievously miscarry is that from thevery outset they are aimless ventures, thosewho organize them having never consciouslyrealized what it is that they are striving to

F-2

68 What is Philosophy?discover. The first and most decisive stagein the speculative movement of the mind willhave been successfully accomplished when thethinker has convinced himself that his busi.ness is to seek for a world-embracing con-ception which shall right all wrongs, heal allwounds, disperse all clouds, make all roughplaces smooth, satisfy all our higher desires,fulfil all our nobler dreams, give us cc in limit-less floods" the light towards which we in-stinctively turn,-to seek for this, assumingat the outset that this e"xplanation of life, andno other, is true.

For with this goal before him it becomespossible for the thinker to map out the earlierstages of his road. He must begin by assu-ming that happiness is man's ideal destiny,and that the light of ideal goodness andbeauty burns at the heart of Nature. Hemust then devise a theory of things whichwill bring the admitted facts of existenceinto harmony with these ~ypothetical tru~hs.

What is Philosophy? 69He will of course interpret the admittedfacts of existence by the aid of his opti-mistic faith.. Consciously or unconsciously,he must read his own prejudices and postu-lates into the facts that he studies; and, thatbeing so~ it is well that he should deliberatelyread into them a postulate which he has delib-erately accepted and made his own. It is (aswe have seen) by his subjective interpretationof the great facts that confront him that eachman in turn makes them what they are-tohim. In every spiritual phenomenon thereis a residuum of what, for want of a fitterphrase, I may perhaps call objective fact.But we must always carefully distinguish be-tween this residuum of fact and those subjec-tive interpretations of it which we are sooften called upon to accept as objectivelytrue. For example, that there is moral evilin the world is a fact. That ce the heart ofman is desperately wicked" is a subjectiveinterpretation of this fact. That evil is o'nly

70 What is Philosophy?u good in the making It is a subjective in-terpretation of a widely different character.That there is suffering in the world is a fact.That ce the whole creation groaneth and tra-vaileth together It is one interpretation of thisfact. That this is an unjust and cruel worldis another. That pain purifies the heart andexpands the soul is a third. That death isthe end of man's bodily life on earth is afact. That death H is the end of life" is oneinterpretation of this fact. That death is thee'usherer into heavenly mansions" is another.That beyond death there is a U grand peut-etre" is a third. In each of these cases theidiosyncrasy of the thinker enters into quasi..chemical combination with the fact which hecontemplates, and transforms it into a subjec-tive fact to which (in all probability) he un-consciously ascribes objective existence.

What is the thinker to do if the admittedfacts of existence seem to giv~ the lie to hisoptimism? He must take pains to show

What is Philosophy? 11that they do not give the lie to it, that theirantagonism to it is apparent, not real. This.or that interpretation of this or that fact maycontradict his primary postulate j but thedarker facts of existence are, qua objectivefacts, finite and actual; and as his faith di-rects itself towards the infinite and the ideal,there can be no lasting controver~y betweentheir darkness and its light His faith there-fore must coalesce with the facts that seemto be at war with it; and while it disarmstheir hostility and brings light into theirdarkness, it will itself be strengthened andwidened, it will be transformed into its owntrue self, by the very effort that it makes toassimilate their meaning to its own. Withthis end in view, the thinker will try to framea conception of life and Nature, so large andall-embracing that there will be room and tospare within its illimitable limits for man'sdarker experiences to harmonize with hisbrightest hopes; so subtle and all-pervading

72 What is Philosophy?that it will disarm opposition, not by sweep-ing aside the obstacles that confront it but byinterpenetrating them and passing beyondthem. He will try to convince us that sinand suffering are only incidents in the deve-lopment of mighty forces,-forces which needfor their full and final evolution a boundlessarena and an immeasurable range of time.Or, he will so construct in thought the mas-ter curve of existence, that after leading up toand passing through the points of sin andsuffering, it will, in obedience to the law ofits own movement, pass on in the directionof ideal good. In order to ensure that thenatural evolution of the curve shall carry ittowards this infinitely distant goal, he mayfind it necessary to make it pass throughimaginary points,-points which lie beyondthe actual, and, as far as we can see at pre-sent, the possible range of our experience.If such points are needed, they must be pro-vided. The philosophy that fails to use the

What is~ Philosophy? 73wings of imagination will not go far. If thethinker finds that purely imaginative hypo-theses are needed for the elaboration of histheory of things, he must not hesitate tosupply them. If, for example, he finds itnecessary to extend the range of life beyondits apparent limits, let him extend it freelyand fearlessly. If he finds it necessary topostulate the immortality or the pre-exis-tence of the soul, let him boldly do so. Ifhe finds it necessary to assume that he is asfree as he feels himself to be, let him, in thestrength of this feeling, break through theflimsy webs of question-begging argumentsin which Necessism is ever striving to en-tangle his mind. If he finds it necessary toassume that there are other planes of exis-tence than the physical world, let him makethe assumption without a moment's hesita-tion. He will of course put forward no hypo-thesis which can possibly be disproved; andif he is wise he will not labour over-sedu-

74 What is Philosophy?lously to prove what is unprovable, and what.as it happens, he is free to assume. To waitobsequiously on facts is the rale of Science,not of Philosophy. The thinker who refusesto go beyond facts confines his energies toregions from which he is always liable to beexpelled as an intruder. Philosophy has asmuch in common with Poetry as with Science.If it is to borrow something ofaim and methodfrom the latter, let it borrow some measureof imagination from the former. It is onlyby swinging to and fro between Science andPoetry, by refusing to surrender to the attrac-tive force of either, that Philosophy can re.main true to itself.

Am I serious when I say that optimismis the end and imagination the way of specu-

\ lative thought? Yes, quite serious. Forwhat is our altemative? The pseudo-scien-tific pursuit of abstract truth. Philosophymust aim at giving satisfaction either to thewhole man-the real, living, many-sided self

What is Philosophy? 75-in which case it will end by becoming op_.timistic and imaginative; or to the merelylogical self: in which case it will end by pur-suing a shadow through a maze of mean-ingless words. It must make its choicebetween the desires of the heart and thefigments of the brain, between the imagina-tion that goes far beyond facts and the ver~bal ingenuity that travels far wide of them.Knowing, as he needs must do, that the in-ductive and experimental processes of Scienceare out of place in Philosophy, the thinker isprone to indulge in the dream of reachingpure truth by drawing correct inferences fromindisputable premises. But of all dreams thisis the vainest. To begin with, there are noindisputable premises in Philosophy. Whatis indisputable for one man, is. doubtful foranother, meaningless for a third, incrediblefor a fourth. The personal element is sureto assert itself, and cannot possibly be elimi..nated. And even if one could start from

76 What is Philosophy?premises as to the truth of which there wasa general consensus of opinion, it would beuseless to deal with these premises syllogis-tically unless one could find some medium ofexpression other than that of human speech.F or words are not mathematical symbols,and it is idle to deal with them as if theywere. In arguments which advance, as philo-sophical arguments so often do, through aseries of e'therefores" from plausible premisesto logically sound conclusions, there is alwaysa serious risk of the words that are used di.verging, as they pass from context to context,from their original sense, with the result thatthey become less and less adequate to thethings that they name, and less and lessfaithful to the experiences that they are sup-posed to express; and when once this processof divergence has begun, each step that thethinker takes will widen the gap betweensymbol and reality, until at last, when hereaches the goal of demonstrated truth, the

What is Philosophy? 77conclusion that confronts him will proveto be as hollow as a dream. If a thoughtis be logically developed, it must start bybeing-what no high thought can possibly be-flawlessly true: the least taint of imperfec-tion will spread so rapidly in the atmosphereof the syllogism that, long before the argu-ment has reached its conclusion, the heartof the thought will have been eaten away,and what was once a living idea will havebeen changed into a husk of empty words.Against this dange~-the deadliest that be-sets the path of speculation-there is butone effectual safeguard. The thinker mustsubmit all his conclusions-his subsidiaryconceptions, as well as his dominant convic-tions-to the test of feeling. He must askhimself again and again, "Do I feel the truthof this proposition? Can I really see ameaning in it? Does it satisfy the reqllire-ments of that deeper reason which is emo-tional rather than intellectual, and which has

78 What is Philosophy?a logic of its own of whose processes I cangive no account? In fine, does it appeal tomy heart?" The regeneration of physicalscience dates from the time when men beganto 'realize that scientific theories - logicaldeductions from verbal premises-count fornothing when they conflict with the evidence(direct or indirect) of the bodily senses. IfPhilosophy is ever to be regenerated, menwill have to convince themselves that philo-sophical theories count for nothing whenthey conflict with the evidence-the genuineevidence-of spiritual emotion. The logicalflow of words, however plausible it may be,suffers inevitable defeat the moment it meetsthe counter current of a natural tendency,-

" The central stream of what men feel indeed."I have suggested that perpetual oscilla-

tion between the opposite poles' of Poetryand Science constitutes the very life-pulse ofPhilosophy. If this be so, then the appealto the heart for the verification of its theories

What is Philosophy? 79is as vital a part of the work of Philosophyas is the appeal to reason for the solution ofits problems. The swing back towards emo-tion, towards personality, towards Poetry,is the very counterpart of the swing forwardtowards reason, towards impersonality, to-wards Science. Each movement implies anddemands the other. The Philosophy thatcannot swing back towards Poetry has evi-dently succumbed to the attractive force ofScience, and in doing so has ceased to beitself:

v.

And now for my answer to our unanswer-able question. Philosophy, as I understandthe word, is a systematic attempt-personalin its inception but ever tending to becomeimpersonal-to interpret and present to con-sciousness the real faith, the real attitudetowards things in general, of a man's inmostself. The attempt is made by imagination,-introspective, sympathetic, and in the last re-sort constructive-working under the generalsupervision of reason. All world-embracingideas originate in the heart-i~ the emotionalside of man's inner life,-and all world-em-bracing theories must be referred back to theheart for approval. The value of the effortof thinking is that it quickens the inner life,bringing its deeper and therefore more uni-

What is Philosophy? 81versal elements within the compass of theman's personality, and thereby rendering theheart, at the end of the process of thinking,a more competent judge of any theory thatmay be submitted to it than it was before theprocess began. The thinker starts with hisown individuality; but the very effort thathe makes to become conscious of this com-pels him to universalize it, compels him tofind, or try to find, the general heart in hisown. As the heart turns towards the lightof ideal good, as naturally and inevitably asplants turn towards the light of the sun, it isclear that no theory can permanently contentit which does not bring light into its life,-not indeed the blinding light of the ideal,but the promise of its advent, the light ofa far-reaching and world-illuminating hope.From this position I, for one, pass on towhat is for me the conclusion of the wholematter, namely,-that tile function of Philo-sojJlly is to inte1'jJret and justify to man's

G

82 What is Philosophy?reason tAe u1lt0tiflUraIJle optimism of "isAearl.

I shall be told that all this simply meansthat I, for one, am an incurable and impeni-tent optimist. Perhaps it does; but even ifit means no more than this, it means a greatdeal-to me. For the lifelong effort that Ihave made to lift my faith into the light ofconsciousness and to transform it first into acomprehensive theory of things and then intoa master principle of action,-this effort,though otherwise barren of result, has sodeepened and widened the flood of my faith,so quickened its current, so stimulated itsintercourse with the mysterious fountainsthat feed it, that, through the channel whichmy thoughts have provided for it, it nowoverflows into my life in strongly pulsingwaves of hope and joy.

I am not an adept at Philosophy. I amnot even a serious student of it. I belong tono school. I can pronounce no shibboleth.

What is Philosophy? 83My attempt to think out the great problemsof life has been in the highest degree in-formal, unscientific, unprofessional, untech.nical; but, such as it is, it has always beento me u its own exceeding great reward. JJ

BY filB S~MS JU"I1I07t

WHAT ISPOETRY?AN ESSAY: BYEDMOND HOLMES

Pritt 3" 6d. 'Itt. Small 41'1.

~IMBS.-CC Mr. Holmes haa the fint requisite of one whowould write philosophically upon poetry; he has a dearUDderstaDding of the main problems that have to be met. He writes both clearly and agreeably, has aready command of illustration, and, though he is dealingwith truths that sound elementary, he haa a true instinctfor the avoidance of the commonplace:'

S~'lTlRDAY n'IBF.-" Full of profoundly suggestiveand really illumining remarks expressed with an eloquenceand fervour not unworthy of the author of the' SecondApology for Poetry:"

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~c~DEMr.-" This very suggestive little book.'

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WALT WHITMANAN ESSAY. WITH A SELECTION

FROM HIS WRITINGS. ByEDMOND HOLMES

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LI'TERA'IVRE.-"Mr. Holmes has a faculty of sane andtemperate criticism which is as uncommon as praiseworthy.We can recommend him as a safe and competent guide toanyone who wishes to begin an acquaintance with thepoet of the democracy and his works."

PILM.-" His book illuminates more than its immediatesubject."

S'TAR.-U Those who know Walt Whitman, and those whoknow him not, those who love him and those who hatehim, ought to read 'Walt Whitman's Poetry: by Mr.Edmond Holmes."

LI'TERARY IYORLD.-cc Mr. Holmes writes sympathetically,yet sanely, of the peculiar qualities of Walt Whitman'spoetry. ., The genuine desire of Mr. Holmes,that Walt Whitman should be more widely understoodand appreciated, is shown by the excellent selections fromhis poems included in this volume,"

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THEOF

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'TIMES.-" A volume of quite uncommon beauty and dis-tinction. The Shakespearean influence that is suggestedshows that the author has gone to school with the best Imasters, and his mastery of the form he has chosen givesthe best evidence of conscientious workmanship."

ECHO.-'C The work of an artist. All of them are distin-guished by a lucidity, a sweetness, and a sincerity, that willcommend them to the lover of poetry:'

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DAILY MAIL.-" Scholarly sonnets, full of passion andgrace."

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THEOF

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SONNET SEQUENCEEDMOND HOLMES

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SPEC'TA'TOR.-ICAt his best Mr. Holmes is no unworthydisciple of Shakespeare the sonneteer. He has passion.and imagination, and subtlety of thought, and skill withhis instrument. Change an epithet or two in the following.sonnet, and it might well mgh pass among the less dis-tinguished sonnets of the Master himself."

OUTLOOK.-cc His artistry. luminous. and distinguished, ismellowed in this volume."

SPEAKER.-" Always artistic, always distinguished."PILO'T.-u Admirable in its ordered beauty and academic

perfection of design." \LI'TERARY H'ORLD.-cc This is the second time he has com-

mitted himself to what is one of the most importantamong poetic adventures. Twice he has succeeded. A delightful union between thought and music."

'DAILY NEH'S.-u, The Triumph of Love' is also a triumphof emotional ell:{lression and imaginative effort. His linesare luminous, WIth a lucidity and dignity of phrase. and aglint of epigram."

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