Philosophical Works of the Late James Frederick Ferrier/Philosophical Remains (1883)/Introductory Lecture, Nov. 1856
INTRODUCTORY LECTURE,
NOVEMBER 1856.
1. You scarcely require to be told that the world is imbued with a pretty strong prejudice against metaphysics. Go where we will, we find that the very term is a word of bad omen, a synonym for subtle trifling, an abbreviated expression for the unprofitable, the perplexing, the indefinite, the uncertain, and the incomprehensible.
2. This prejudice, it must be admitted, is by no means unfounded. Looking to the past and the present state of metaphysical literature, we behold, certainly, a most bewildering prospect. In selecting our own opinions amid such conflicting testimonies, by what principle of choice shall we be directed? We look in vain for a conductor in whom implicit reliance can be placed. The more one reads, the more confused does one become; the farther one sails, the farther one seems to recede from the wished-for haven. We seem engaged with an inquiry which has neither beginning, middle, nor end; we are embarked on an illimitable ocean which welters with unappeasable controversies; we are gazing on an infinite battle-field, raging with interminable strife. Instead of being what it professes to be, a science which is to settle everything, this science seems to unfix the very foundations of the rational soul, and of the solid universe. Doctrines rise up against doctrines, opinions overwhelm opinions, "velut unda supervenit undam," so that this science which gives itself out as the science of the immutable, seems itself to be the most mutable of filings; whence, not without reason, has it been said that the words which St Peter spake to the lying wife of Ananias may be fitly applied to each philosophy as they successively come upon the field, "Behold, the feet of them which have buried thy husband are at the door, and shall carry thee out."
3. Is then the cultivation of metaphysics to be abandoned in disgust or in despair? Great proficients in the physical sciences, wedded to their own objects and captivated with their own methods, have proscribed it as a vain and illegitimate and unprofitable pursuit. But such a prohibition is founded on an entire miscalculation of the capacities, the aspirations, and the demands of the human soul. To suppose that the light of metaphysics—fitful or lurid or bewildering as it may too often be—can ever be extinguished, is to suppose that man has ceased to have a thinking mind. As long as man thinks, this light must burn. The deep river of speculative thought, with all its devious windings, with all its perilous shoals, whirlpools, and cataracts, will flow on for ever; and he must be a rustic, a barbarian indeed, who would loiter on its banks in the vain expectation of beholding the mighty flood at length run dry.
" Rusticus expectat dum defluat amnis, at ille
Labitur et labetur in omne volubilis ævum"
4. The indestructible vitality of metaphysical science I hold to be a settled point, in spite of the discouraging appearance which both its past and its present condition may present. It is a spirit which cannot be put down, because it has its origin in an intellectual craving which cannot be repressed. And let people decry the science as they may, of this we may be assured, that they know it in their secret hearts to be the most essential and the most ethereal manifestation of mental power which the human intellect can exhibit.
5. Nevertheless, the picture which I have just drawn of the unsatisfactory state of this science is not overcharged, and therefore much must be done in the way of reducing its chaotic elements to order and precision, if metaphysics are to take the lead—nay, if they are ever to hold their place—among the themes of academical instruction. Above all things, it is incumbent on the cultivator and expounder of this science to have formed and to be able to exhibit a distinct conception of the business which it takes in hand, the work it has to do, the end or object at which it aims. For very much of the confusion which besets the science is attributable to indistinct notions on this most essential point. Before a man can hit any mark, he must at any rate see and keep steadily in view the point at which he aims. This, however, has been but rarely done in the science of which we have to treat. It is also necessary that the cultivator and expounder of this science should lay down a clear and distinct method, and should adhere to it consistently. And thus by exhibiting a definite conception of the end at which the science aims, and of the method by which that end is to be reached, the expositor of metaphysics will be at any rate intelligible, if not convincing; and if he cannot altogether avoid error, he will at least avoid what is worse, obscurity and confusion.
6. In the 'Institutes of Metaphysic,' which I shall use to some extent as a text-book in this class, I have endeavoured to contribute some small aid to the attainment of these important ends, clearness and precision in metaphysical thinking, and lucidity of order in the exhibition of metaphysical problems. I have endeavoured to arrange the problems in such a way that the science may have a beginning, middle, and conclusion; to arrange them, in short, in such an order that the successive demonstrations may be based on those which precede, and may serve as a basis to those which are to follow. In particular, I have endeavoured to present a distinct conception of what, in my opinion at least, is the proper vocation of metaphysical philosophy. (See Introduction, § 39, p. 32.) As my opinion as to the proper vocation and business of philosophy happens to differ considerably from that generally entertained by the philosophers of this country, I shall take this opportunity of bringing forward some of the grounds on which I venture to think that philosophy is properly the rectifier, and not the ratifier, as our common-sense philosophers believe her to be, of the deliverances of ordinary opinion. I shall endeavour to show you that in standing forth as the corrective of ordinary thinking, philosophy merely follows the analogy of all the other sciences. But reserving for subsequent discussion the details embraced in these Institutes, I shall take this opportunity of laying before you certain very general but fundamental views which I venture to entertain in regard to philosophy or metaphysics (for I use these as convertible terms), and from the exposition of which you will distinctly perceive in what respect my system stands contrasted more particularly with the antecedent philosophy which has been generally taught in this country.
7. I commence by requesting your attention to a distinction which may be said to be at the root of all science, the distinction between the real and the apparent; or, as it may be otherwise expressed, between the hidden and the obvious. By the apparent and obvious I mean such facts as lie upon the very surface of things, such phenomena as come before us of their own accord, and require no effort on our part to apprehend them. By the real and the hidden I mean such facts as are not of this obtrusive character, such truths as do not force themselves spontaneously on our observation, but are to be reached and disclosed only by means of an intellectual effort. All science, I say, in the sense of inquiry or higher knowledge, proceeds upon this distinction, because it is plain that science in the sense of inquiry is not required to bring before us the apparent and the obvious, objects or facts of this character being already sufficiently patent without any investigation. Science, therefore, in the proper sense of the word, is directed exclusively upon the real or the hidden; and it takes notice of the apparent and the obvious only that it may pass beyond them into the regions where truth or reality abides. In Platonic Greek, δόξα, or opinion, is the term by which the faculty of the apparent is designated, while ἐπιστήμη designates the faculty by which the real is apprehended.
8. The whole scheme of the natural universe affords illustrations of this distinction between the real and the apparent, on which all science proceeds. If a man, by looking up to the starry heavens, were able, by that mere inspection, to determine the distances and magnitudes and courses of the planetary orbs, he would require no science to instruct him. He discerns, however, only what is apparent, and this discernment does not disclose to him what is real. To discover this, he must put forth an intellectual effort; he must inquire, he must have recourse to astronomy; and astronomy will teach him that what is real in the stupendous spectacle before him is very different from what is apparent. This science, therefore, is founded on a distinction between the real and the apparent, between the obvious and the hidden. It, the ἐπιστήμη of the heavens, deals with the real; man's ordinary observation of the celestial luminaries, his δόξα deals only with the apparent. Deny this distinction and you extinguish the science. In like manner, chemistry is a science, inasmuch as it treats of the real as distinguished from the apparent. If no distinction existed, or if no distinction were to be made between the apparent and the real, in other words, if the apparent and the real were identical or coincident, there could be no such science as chemistry, for, in that case, the internal structure and composition of bodies would be disclosed to our most superficial observation, and no science would be required to teach us the elements of which they are composed. But here, too, the apparent is not the real. A superficial glance at natural objects discloses to us the obvious, apparent; but science, inquiry, investigation, these are required to lay before us the hidden real facts of nature with which chemistry deals.9. The same distinction could very easily be shown to be the foundation of every other science. All the physical sciences have this in common, that they are researches into what is real as distinguished from what is apparent, that is, from what lies exposed and obvious on the very surface of things. Perhaps, however, I have said enough to render intelligible the distinction of which I have been speaking. Let me just repeat, that upon whatever object our attention may be directed, no science of that object is possible unless we admit in regard to the object in question, whatever it may be, a distinction between the apparent and the real, the obvious and the hidden; for, as I have already remarked, if the apparent and the real are identical, no science or research is necessary to instruct us in the nature of the object which we may be considering. And let me add this, too, that while science brings before us the real, it at the same time corrects or sets aside the apparent. Astronomy, in teaching us that the earth revolves round the sun, corrects or dislodges the apparent fact of natural observation that the sun revolves round the earth.
10. This distinction between real and apparent, then, being understood, I have now to show you for what purpose I have brought it under your notice, and how it may enable you to understand the position which my system of metaphysics occupies, or professes to occupy, in relation to our antecedent systems of philosophy. We have seen that in the natural world there is a wide discrepancy between the real and the apparent and that the physical sciences, paying but little heed to the apparent, and placing no trust in it, press forward to the ascertainment of the real. We have now to ask, Does this same distinction, this same discrepancy between what is real and what is merely apparent, hold good in the world of mind as well as in the world of matter? The answer to this question is important. Because if this distinction between the real and apparent does not hold good in the world of mind, if there be no difference between what we really think and what we only apparently think, between what we really know and what we apparently know, if there be no discrepancy between apparent thinking and real thinking, between apparent knowing and real knowing, there can be no science of metaphysics, no research into the nature of knowledge, because no such science or research would be required, just as no astronomy would be required if there were no difference between the real and the apparent movements and magnitudes of the stars. While, on the other hand, if in the world of thought there be the same relative difference between the real and the apparent which prevails in the natural universe, a science, the science of metaphysics, will be required to bring before us the facts of our own real thinking, and to correct and displace the facts of our own mere apparent thinking.11. This, then, I say, is the question, Does the distinction between the real and the apparent hold good in the world of mind just as it holds good in the world of matter? In other words, Does our apparent thinking, our apparent consciousness, present phenomena which are just as little worthy of being trusted or accepted as true and final, as the apparent heavens are admitted to present phenomena of this character, phenomena which astronomy cannot accept as ultimate and true, but which that science sets aside? And, on the other hand, are there real truths of thought which, lying behind or beyond these mere apparent truths, may be reached by means of science, just as the truths of the starry skies are reached by means of astronomy? In answer to this question our antecedent philosophers have said, that in the world of mind the apparent and the real are coincident and identical; that the deliverances of our ordinary consciousness are to be accepted as true and ultimate. They have said that philosophy is not the corrector, but is rather the confirmer of these deliverances. I, on the other hand, assert that the distinction between the apparent and the real, the obvious and the ultimate, obtains in the world of thought no less than in the world of things. I hold that philosophy exists for the purpose of correcting and not for the purpose of confirming the deliverances of ordinary thinking; and, in maintaining this opinion, I set myself against ordinary thinking no farther than all the other sciences do. It is the business of all science to displace the apparent and to establish the real; and, in doing this, speculative philosophy merely follows the example and analogy of her brethren.
This, I say, is the distinction on which is founded the science of metaphysics, as I endeavour to inculcate them. While, on the other hand, I venture to say that our antecedent Scottish philosophy recognises no such distinction; or rather virtually denies that any such discrepancy exists. It accepts as true and real and ultimate the deliverances of our mere apparent thinking, without considering whether there is not a real thinking at the back of this apparent thinking, by which all its decisions might be altered or reversed. In a word, I hold that the real operations of our minds are just as little apparent on the surface of our ordinary consciousness as the real revolutions of the heavenly bodies are apparent to the eye of the ordinary and uninstructed observer. While, on the contrary, our antecedent philosophy is of opinion that our apparent is our real thinking, or that there is no real thinking carried on in the human mind of a character totally different from the apparent thinking which is there transacted. It is on this ground that our antecedent philosophy lays claim to the title of common sense; an appellation which may be conceded to it, if by common sense is meant only the deliverance of our apparent thinking.