of them aiding ulterior progress. And all the innumerable changes here briefly indicated are consequent on the invention of the locomotive engine. The social organism has been rendered more heterogeneous in virtue of the various new occupations introduced, and the many old ones further specialized; prices in every place have been altered; each trader has, more or less, modified his way of doing business; and almost every member of the community has been affected in his actions, thoughts, emotions. Illustrations to the same effect might be indefinitely accumulated. That every influence brought to bear upon society works multiplied. effects; and that increase of heterogeneity is a consequence of this multiplication of effects; may be seen in the history of every trade, every custom, every belief. But it is needless to give any additional evidence of this. The only further fact demanding notice, is, that we here see still more clearly than ever, the truth before pointed out, that in proportion as the area on which any force expends itself becomes heterogeneous, the results are in a still higher degree multiplied in number and kind. While among the primitive tribes to whom it was first known, caoutchouc initiated but few changes, among ourselves the changes have been so many and varied that the history of them occupies a volume.* Upon the small, homogeneous community inhabiting one of the Hebrides, the electric telegraph would produce, were it used, scarcely any results; but in England the result it produces are multitudinous. The comparatively simple organization under which our ancestors lived five centuries ago could have undergone but few modifications from an event like the recent one at Canton; but now, the legislative decision respecting it sets up many hundred of complex modifications, each of which will be the parent of numerous fu ture ones. Space permitting, we could willingly have pursued the argument in relation to all the subtler results of civilization. As before, we showed that the law of progress to which the organic and inorganic worlds conform, is also conformed to by language, sculpture, music, etc.; so might we here * "Personal Narrative of the Origin of the Caout chouc, or India-Rubber Manufacture in England." By Thomas Hancock. show that the cause which we have hitherto found to determine progress holds in these cases also. We could demonstrate in detail how, in science, an advance in one division presently advances other divisions - how astronomy has been immensely developed through discoveries in optics, whilst other optical discoveries have initiated microscopic anatomy, and greatly aided the growth of physiology— how chemistry has simultaneously opened the way to advance in our knowledge of electricity, magnetism, biology, geologyhow electricity has reäcted on chemistry and magnetism, developed our views of light and heat, and disclosed sundry laws of nervous action. In literature, the same truth might be exhibted in the manifold effects resulting from the primitive mystery-play, not only as originating the modern drama, but as affecting through it other kinds of poetry and fiction; or in the continually multiplied forms of periodical literature that have descended from the first newspaper, and which have severally acted and reacted on other forms of literature and on each other. The influence which a new school of painting-as that of the pre-Raffaelites exercises upon other schools; the hints which all kinds of pictorial art are deriving from photography; the complex results of new critical doctrines, as those of Mr. Ruskin, might severally be dwelt upon as displaying the like multiplication of effects. But it would needlessly tax the reader's patience to pursue, in their many ramifications, these various changes; here become so involved and subtle as to be followed out with some difficulty. Without further accumulation of evidence, we venture to think our case is made out. The many imperfections of statement which brevity has necessitated, do not, we believe, militate against the truth of the propositions enunciated. The qualifications here and there demanded would not, if made, affect the inferences. Though in one instance, in which sufficient evidence is not attainable, we have been unable to show that the law of progress applies; yet there is high probability that the same generalization holds which holds throughout the rest of creation. Though, in tracing the genesis of progress, we have frequently spoken of very complex causes mains true that such causes are far less as if they were simple ones, it still recomplex than their results. Detailed cri However, to avoid committing ourselves to more than is yet proved, we must be content with saying that such are the law and the cause of all progress that is known to us. Should the nebular hypothesis ever be established, then it will become manifest that the universe at large, like every organism, was once homogeneous; ; that as a whole, and in every detail, it has unceasingly progressed toward greater heterogeneity; and that its heterogeneity is still increasing. It will be seen that as in each phenomenon of to-day, so from the beginning, the decomposition of every expended force into several forces has been perpetually producing a higher complication; that the increase of heterogeneity so brought about is still going on, and must continue to go on; and that thus progress is not an accident, not a thing within human control, but a beneficent necessity. ticisms can not affect our main position. | liefs more and more shaken, secretly fears Endless facts go to show that every kind that all things may some day be explainof progress is from the homogeneous to ed; and has a corresponding dread of the heterogeneous; and that it is so be- science: thus evincing the profoundest of cause each change is followed by many all infidelity the fear lest the truth be changes. And it is significant that bad. On the other hand, the sincere man where the facts are most accessible and of science, content fearlessly to follow abundant, there are these truths most ma- wherever the evidence leads him, becomes nifest. by each new inquiry more convinced that the universe is an insoluble problem. Alike in the external and the internal worlds, he sees himself in the midst of perpetual changes, of which he can discover neither the beginning nor the end. If, tracing back the genesis of things, he allows himself to entertain the still unproved hypothesis that all matter once existed in a diffused form, he finds it utterly impossible to conceive how this came to be so; and equally, if he speculates on the future, he can assign no limit to the grand succession of phenomena ever evolving themselves before him. On the other hand, if he looks inward, he perceives that both terminations of the thread of consciousness are beyond his grasp: he can not remember when or how consciousness commenced, and he can not examine the consciousness that at any moment exists; for only a state of consciousness that is already past can become the object of thought, and never one which is passing. When, again, he turns from the succession of phenomena, external or internal, to their essential nature, he is equally at fault. Though he may succeed in resolving all properties of objects into manifestations of force, he is not thereby enabled to realize what force is; but finds, on the contrary, that the more he thinks about it the more he is baffled. Similarly, though analysis of mental actions may finally bring him down to sensations as the original materials out of which all thought is woven, he is none the forwarder; for he can not in the least comprehend sensation -can not even conceive how sensation is possible. Inward and outward things he thus discovers to be alike inscrutable in their ultimate genesis and nature. He sees that the materialist and spiritualist controversy is a mere war of words; the disputants being equally absurd-each believing he understands that which it is impossible for any human being to understand. In all directions his investigations eventually bring him face to face with the unknowable; and he ever more clearly perceives it to be the unknowable. He A few words must be added on the ontological bearings of our argument. Probably not a few will conclude that here is an attempted solution of the great questions with which philosophy in all ages has perplexed itself. Let none thus deceive themselves. Only such as know not the scope and the limits of science can fall into so grave an error. After all that has been said, the ultimate mystery of things remains just as it was. The explanation of that which is explicable does but bring out into greater clearness the inexplicableness of that which remains behind. However we may succeed in reducing the equation to its lowest terms, we are not thereby enabled to determine the unknown quantity: on the contrary, it only becomes more manifest that the unknown quantity can never be found. We feel ever more and more certain that fearless inquiry tends continually to give a firmer basis to all true religion. The timid sectarian, alarmed at the progress of knowledge, obliged to abandon one by one the superstitions of his ancestors, and daily finding sundry of his cherished be learns at once the greatness and the littleness of human intellect-its power in dealing with all that comes within the range of experience; its importance in dealing with all that transcends experience. He feels, with a vividness which no others can, the utter incomprehensibleness of the simplest fact, considered in itself. He alone truly sees that absolute knowledge is impossible. He alone knows that under all things there lies an impenetrable mystery. From the Dublin University Magazine. WHEWELL'S HISTORY OF MORAL PHILOSOPHY IN ENGLAND.* WE have heard of a young officer in country-quarters, who, feeling his time hang heavy upon his hands, took down Bishop Butler's Analogy or Sermons to read. Having devoted to his task the time between a late dinner and tea, our philosopher flung down the volume with disgust, observing that it was "slow," and that he did not think that there was much in it after all. The heading of this article may induce our fairer or younger readers to class us with that hopeful young gentleman. We are quietly inviting the myriad admirers of our Maga to discuss the moralists of England, in the witching and dreamy post-prandial hour, when a periodical is so often taken up. We are pitching a ton of lead upon the elastic lightness of Mr. Lever, upon the exquisite pathos and subtle satire of Mr. Jerrold. Dr. Whewell's writing is hardly so entertaining as the "Fortunes of Glencore," or so full of brilliant contrast as 66 Somebody and Nobody." We can assure our readers, however, that we shall treat of moral philosophy rather under the form of literature than of philosophy. And here we shall con * Lectures on the History of Moral Philosophy in England. By William Whewell, D.D., Master of Trinity College, and Professor of Moral Philosophy in the University of Cambridge. London: John W. Parker and Son, West Strand; Cambridge: John Deighton. 1852. fine ourselves within very narrow limits. We had, perhaps, proposed to ourselves to follow our author through the successive eras of English morality. But we soon felt the hopelessness of attempting an outline which to the initiated would appear contemptibly meagre; to the uninitiated, hopelessly obscure. On the present occasion, therefore, we shall content ourselves with a species of literary review of three eminent writers on morality who flourished in the 17th century, their principal writings ranging between the years 1625 and 1651. These writers are Hugo Grotius, (whose great influence upon English theology and morality entitles him to a place in a review of English moral philosophy,) Robert Sanderson, Bishop of Lincoln, and Thomas Hobbes, the philosopher of Malmesbury. We select these three, because in their works we find the seminal principles of those moral speculations which blossomed out so richly in Shaftesbury, Hutcheson, and Butler, in Locke and Paley-the wool which was spun out into varying textures, according to the fancy or necessity of successive generations. We shall endeavor to prove that these abstract speculations have not been, and are not likely to be, without the most important practical effect upon our position as members of a civilized community, and even of a Christian Church. But we owe Dr. Whewell the courtesy of a special notice at the outset. mist and twilight, ever mistaking each other, and missing of (?) their aims." The whole passage is about the finest specimen of the "King Cambyses' vein" which we remember. This want of imagination has led the Professor into one curious and enormous mistake. In the "Dissertation on the Nature of Virtue," Butler says of conscience, "whether it be considered as a sentiment of the understanding, or a perception of the heart." Surely the meaning is obvious. The Bishop alludes to the mingled phenomena of conscience, partly intellectual, partly moral: I. The name of Whewell must ever be mentioned with respect and gratitude in any history of moral philosophy that may hereafter be published in the English language. To him the University of Cambridge owes her Moral Science Tripos. In the multifarious range of his authorship-including theology, the higher mathematics, mechanics, architecture, the theory of education, and, it is whispered, conundrums, charades, elegant original and translated verses, and essays upon Chinese music! are included one of the most complete systems of morality and polity in any language; a volume of lectures on Systematic Morality; two selections from Bishop Butler's Sermons, with Exactly parallel is the psychology of prefaces; an edition of Mackintosh; of Scripture: "the thoughts of many hearts," Sanderson, De Obligatione Conscientiæ; the eyes of your understanding," (literally, and, finally, one of Grotius, De Jure Belli" the eyes of your heart,") are just "the et Pacis. It is no light achievement, no inconsiderable service, to have superseded the low morality of Paley for one of a finer texture. Shall we be considered ungrateful for these eminent services if we say that they are not without some intermixture of alloy? Dr. Whewell's style is rather disagreeably egotistical and dogmatic. He writes as he might be supposed to lecture some over-musical undergraduate, whose French-horn or flute should too rudely disturb the learned echoes of Trinity, and to whom he should declaim, ore rotundo, how, "if the college were to continue as as a college, and rules as rules," he must infallibly be rusticated. It is very provoking to be told so often that he has arrived at conclusions more satisfactory than those of preceding moralists. Our eminent author is something wanting in imagination; and when his style swells into the rhetorical grandeur, we can fancy the sneer which plays upon the lips of the fastidious Greek. We have, in one passage of the work now under review, a comparison between "the Lockeian theory, rushing on before the prosperous wind, with expanded sails and flying colors, and the system of Cudworth, ill-suited for such a rivalry." Then follows much about the "surrounding flood, ever ready to whelm such adventurers in its unfathomable depths," and "the intellectual globe," and "navigators rejoicing together in the bright sunshine of the unknown Islands of the Blest, which they sought so long in "bred In the heart and in the head." sentiment of the understanding, the perception of the heart." But Dr. Whewell cannot understand this, and takes credit to himself for altering a long-standing misprint; and so it appears in his edition of the "Sermons," in this flat, not to say unmeaning shape, "a sentiment of the heart, or a perception of the understanding." There is a graver fault, as we conceive, about Dr. Whewell's morality. It is too systematic. It exhibits the geometric spirit rather than the "esprit de finesse." This is the fault of your matter-of-fact Englishman, when he becomes a theologian or a moralist. We can not, indeed, agree with Tholuck, when he says that Bishop Butler speaks of the moral government of the universe as he would of the arrangements of a London police-court. But the learned and excellent Waterland describes and classifies the secrets of sacramental grace as one would label the drawers of a cabinet. The road to the heavenly Jerusalem, in some of our standard divines, is not a wonderful path, irradiated with supernatural light, and with shadows of mystery chequering its fullest sunshine, but a straight macadamized highway. They forget that to comprehend the counsels of the Eternal, the finite mind must be expended into infinity, or the Infinite be contracted to the finite. So in prophecy. Your Englishman insists on a map of the new heavens, a plan of the new earth, a Pinnock's Catechism of the Apocalyptic Dates, a Chart of the River of the Life, a Bradshaw of the celestial kingdom. He must be satisfied how they who have, "every one of them, harps and golden vials full of odors," can manage to strike the instruments while they hold the vials; forgetting that he is in a region where nothing is sharp or defined, but all floating in a sunlit mist. So in morality. He must have just so many virtues and duties, so many rights and obligations, and no more. And he is as impatient of any less definite numerical arrangement as if you suggested to him that he should start on a journey with an ill-packed carpet-bag, or pursue his weary path through life with confused or inadequate conception of the number of his shirts. Yet it seems to us that moral systems are suspicious just in proportion as they "gender acquiescence" in the vulgar, by their " assumption of universal knowledge." Every moral system should leave a chair vacant for the unknown, a margin on the page for the unclassified. When the astronomer surveys the heavens through his glass, he requires a line to divide the enormous map which is expanded before him. None suits his purpose so well as a single thread of the spider's web. And this slight line, with the light of a lamp thrown upon it, looks like a great golden band sundering the heavens into compartments. Such a spider's web is the moralist's system, or point of view-most valuable and indispensable for his survey; but he must not mistake it for an integral part of the wonderful worlds upon which he is gazing. Surely Dr. Whewell's pentagonal morality-his five elements of our nature, five classes of rights, five virtues, five branches of the general trunk of morality, and we know not what other fives--postulates its own failure. It is a sort of Philistine superstition, reproducing the five golden emerods, the five golden mice, the five lords, the five cities. II. We now proceed with our literary review of those three writers whom we specified at the outset. Dr. Whewell well points out that the causistry of the Roman Church was the precursor of moral philosophy. Causistry, according to him, is the doctrine of cases of conscience—that is, cases in which an apparent conflict of duties renders it necessary to eliminate all but purely moral elements from the matter in question. Causistry was based upon authority, and dealt in a multiplicity of details. It is the nature of every such system to split into a thousand subtle questionings. Thus, in the Mussulman code, no less than 75,000 traditional precepts have been promulgated. Under the title of Dharmashastra, the Hindoos place all their authorized works on law and jurisprudence, personal, domestic, and public, civil and sacred. Every act of human life connected with every individual man, and every relation of society, they profess to regulate by divine institution. The Dharmashastra of Christendom was subverted by the Reformation. Moral theology was the transition state between causistry and moral philosophy. It still remains on the dusty shelves of our libraries. We can see it, quaint and subtle as it is, in the stiff symmetric outlines, in the interminable divisions and subdivisions of some of the elder Reformed divines. It took the pulpit in ruff and gown, and shook the sand-glass in the face of the wearied auditory. When it had graduated in Geneva, it loved to expatiate on those tremendous themesthe will and the power of God; and when the heart of man sank quailing before the conclusions of his intellect, it took refuge in a cloud of words, through which it still flattered itself that it saw a benevolent Deity. It taught that the predetermined vessel of wrath stood forth in a twofold capacity. He was a creature of God in whom there was some remnant of the divine image; he was also a sinner. God hates sinful creatures so far as they are sinful, and loves them so far as they are creatures. This hatred answers to volition, this love to velleity in man; and the latter is nothing else than the natural affection of God to His natural creatures, even to those who shall be lost, by which He would wish that they should not perish, if it might be so in consistence with His justice; and of this natural affection Scripture speaks, when it says that God will have all men to be saved. The logic of love and of our moral nature soon rends these cobwebs of the schools; to say that this velleity or natural affection is weaker than this volition, is simply to say that God's hate is stronger than His love. It is but just to say that while these distinctions between the Divine velleity and the Divine volition are utterly forgotten, moral theology is the quarry from which are hewn some of the stones which, when shaped and polished, look best in our modern sermons. Causistry, after leaving |