312 



• KNO\VLEDGE ♦ 



[April 10, 1885. 



father, yet the process of inventing it, and the knowledge of it 

 when invented were so completely outside the consciousness of 

 myself as the boy in the dream, tliat when my father carried out 

 his plan (for he did not explain it beforehand) I only then learned 

 what it was by seeing him do it, and I was as much surprised as if 

 it were really the invention and act of another person quite distinct 

 from myself. 



Here, then, we have practically the brain of one and the same 

 person constructing, setting, and explaining a puzzle which it is at 

 the same time unable to find out. H. II. M. 



INFINITY. 



[1CC2] — Your correspondent " Ilallyards," in letter 1653, re- 

 ferring to what are called the "iuliuitely great," and the "infi- 

 nitely small," wi'ites : — " Is it not probable that there is no single 

 orb much bigger than Sirius, and, if so, there seems a limit to the 

 size of molecules on one side ; must there cot be one on the 

 other ?" 



On what ground docs he maintain the probabilisra that Sirius is 

 among the largest of orbs or molecules ? It may be usual for 

 astronomers, speaking in a general way, to refer to it as such, but 

 in a discussion in which the stars and planets ai'e brought into com- 

 parison with the smallest known particles of matter (namely, the 

 "ultimate atoms" in chemistry), it would be difficult, I think, to 

 assign a reason for such a probability. 



Let us imagine a rational being contained in some obscure planet, 

 the system — or we may say the entire universe — of which forms 

 merely a single atom in our conception ; woidd such a being be 

 justified in concluding that the " infinitely great " was not infinite, 

 but limited to the greatest of those atoms which were within his 

 ken ? If so, what would become of distant Sirius, or even of our 

 own globe ? 



In reference to the seeming inconsistency in the review from 

 which your correspondent quotes, he should bear in mind that it 

 deals with matters "chemical," and not "mathematical;" the term 

 "ultimate atom," or even " ultimate molecule," is perfectly legiti- 

 mate, inasmuch as it implies simply the smallest particles over 

 which the force of chemical affinity eserts an influence ; that there 

 should be nothing smaller than an "elementary atom" is incon- 

 ceivable, for " halt that atom " at once suggests itself, and so on 

 ad inlinihim. Again: he is scarcely explicit, or there is some in- 

 congruity in the phrase following that which I have quoted : " In- 

 finite size we cannot deny." If " Hallyards" can conceive limita- 

 tions (as he intimates), why not deny the infinities ? 



That "a thing is no larger than it is small," appears to be the 

 obvious truism which " Hallyards" has stumbled upon in the con- 

 cluding paragrajjh of his letter, but, unless I am mistaken, the 

 ■words " large " and " small " are relative to one another, and not to 

 any external conception of "ultimate greatness," or " Uttleness". 

 To draw an analog}-, is it an error to speak of the intensity of a 

 certain light being greater than that of another, because the inten- 

 sity of hght stretches away into the infinite. Ar.EX. Mackie. 



[1063] — "Hallyard's" letter, 1033, on Ultra-Gas, cannot deny 

 infinite size, neither can I deny infinite smallness ; both terms seem 

 to me equally contradictory, yet logic tells me that, if matter can be 

 infinitely enlarged, or atoms infinitely multiplied, matter must, in 

 its ultimate, be infinitely small or capable of infinite division. This 

 is exactly what mathematics tell us. Large and small in mathe- 

 matics, like hot and cold in physios, are relative terms, at the best 

 arbitrary. Mathematics cannot deal with the infinitely large or 

 small values. We cannot midtiply figures infinitely, neither can we 

 divide them infinitely. The capacity of our brain is linite, there- 

 fcre " thought " arising from it must also be finite, and the most 

 capable brains must arrive at a point where thought is impossible. 



It may offend our vanity to lind that the ultimate atom cannot 

 be demonstrated, yet cannot be nothing ; so that the infinite large- 

 ness of matter and the universe is beyond our comprehension, and 

 yet it must be ; but that only proves that our pride is greater than 

 our knowledge, and that there are things which do exist, yet which 

 we cannot know nor understand, because our thoughts are finite. 

 F. W. H. 



ARE TRIPE AND ONIONS OBJECTIVE OR SUBJECTIVE? 



[1664] — In your impression of March 27, " C. N." writes (1647) ; 

 "To «s there is no external world, because all that we know is felt 

 or thought, and is, therefore, internal." It may be so, but I have 

 always believed that my Friday night's supper of tripe and onions 

 had a most decided external existence before I had consumed it, 

 and, although a small one, it was a world in itself. This may be 

 vulgar, but it isn't bosh. Feeling and thought may be internal ; 



but the things felt and thought, are they internal also? If not, 

 then they are external, and, although only realisable to us through 

 the medium of tho senses, not the less external on that account. 



The introduction of a few grains of that common sense which 

 grows from common experience into what is called )iliilosophical — 

 in my opinion in no sense philosophical —speculation, would help 

 materially to dispel much of that deceptive halo of utter nonsense 

 that now envelops it. Then it might become a king's highway on 

 which ordinary men might travel and gather knowledge. Now, it 

 is, and for ages has been, as Longfellow somewhere expresses it, at 

 first view a broad and well-laid road, but which as you proceed 

 gradually uarrovvs into a bridle-path, and then into a squirrel-track, 

 and at last runs up into a tree. J- S. 



[Do you not see that you are committing (from the metaphysical 

 point of view) an absolutely unpardonable sin in appealing to 

 common sense at all ? It always strikes me that Berkeley's 

 argument might be paraphrased thus. On the hand with which I 

 am writing I wear a signet ring, with my crest on it. Xow, no 

 impres.sion of that crest can be taken without sealing-wax. Hence, 

 if all the sealing-wax (or other plastic material in the universe) 

 were to be annihilated, ip:<o facto, my ring would cease to exist. 

 You will, of course, understand that I only mention this heresy of 

 mine in strict confidence. — Ed.] 



THE INTELLECT IN INSTINCT AND IN REASON. 



[1603] — It would seem that in the consideration of instinct and 

 reason the precise function of the intellect in these two processes 

 has not been clearly perceived. Yet there appears to be little diffi- 

 culty in proving that this element is of extreme importance, and 

 that it furnishes light whereby sundry difficulties may be cleared 

 up. All bodily action not purely spontaneous proceeds, as we all 

 know, from some form of feeling or emotions, but in the actual 

 performance or carrying out of this action as a means towards an 

 end, or of a train of such actions, the intellect comes into play and 

 operates as a guide or pilot. The steam-power impels the ship, but 

 the man at the helm directs its course. In instinct this intellectual 

 guidance is a force which (save the mere sensation) is wholly 

 mechanical and unconscious : in reason the force is conscious and 

 deliberate. In the former the action may be intelligent in 

 practical effect, i.e., means are adapted to ends as the 

 seeming result of imagination and generalisation. In reality, 

 however, the intellectual power at work is only unconsciously 

 practical, is adaptive or ingenious in appearance only ; it 

 is merely a sort of organic association of ideas formed by 

 persistent training in the individual, or in the species. In this 

 process of learning the intellectual association of ideas assists ,at 

 first, but, after a time, it gradually gives way, and drops out of 

 consciousness. Indeed, sensori-raotor actions frequently become 

 wholly excito-motor. It has been maintained that some of the 

 lower animals possets " a power of gathering up the past experience 

 into rules of conduct that guide them in their solitary or gi'e- 

 garious life," and that "in the working out of a design they often 

 learn to use special means when special ends have to be provided 

 for." These processes, it may be assumed, are merely organic and 

 mechanical, and are not the product of any practical talent guided 

 by a general notion. This profiting by experience, moreover, is 

 vpry limited, it relates merely to their food and mode of life. Tho 

 imaging power and the recollection of the brute are too feeble and 

 confined to influence to any comprehensive extent the actions and 

 conduct. 



When conscious intellect operates as the pilot of bodily action, it 

 does so under two forms — 1, association of concrete notions ; 2, as 

 a general or abstract notion. The former of these is illustrated by 

 such feats as walking, riding, writing, balancing on the tight-rope, 

 playing on a musical instrument, &c., also by many of the astonish- 

 ing circus feats performed by horses, dogs, elephants, &c. A long 

 and painful education is required in the mastery of accomplish- 

 ments of this kind. At fh'st, the mental association between the 

 sensation and the requisite motion is difficult to form, but by and 

 by, with practice and patience, it becomes more easy, and the feat 

 is finally accomplished so organically, as it were, that at a sub- 

 sequent stage it becomes almost wholly unconscious and reflex. It 

 must be particularly observed, however, that no amount of 

 general idea will assist in the performance of the feat. A 

 man may have a clear and excellent general idea of what good 

 caligrapliy is, but he may be slower in learning to 

 write fairly well than the smart and dexterous mechanical 

 individual who has suppler fingers and more impressionable nerve- 

 centres. These association-guided actions are all of a particular 

 kind ; they are strictly personal (so to speak) ; they are mere 

 boilily movements whose end is near and immediate, not remote or 

 external to and independent of the animal itself. After a time 



