THE CIRCLE OF THE SCIENCES.

MENTAL SCIENCE

Is the mind’s knowledge of itself, of its faculties, and states. Psychology is now generally accepted as the most appropriate term to indicate that knowledge, and the studies that lead to its attainment. The psyche, as used by those ignorant of man’s higher nature, means the vital principle supposed to animate all living bodies, whether of men or the lower animals. It is, with them, the same as life, and is regarded as a result of the organizations they see, and not their cause. Others more consistently hold that, even in the lowest sense, vital forces precede, secure, and determine the organisms they animate; and that in the case of man there is a nobler endowment, a superadded, distinct, self-conscious, personal intelligence. “There is a spirit in man, and the inspiration of the Almighty giveth him understanding.” This psyche, or living soul, is a distinct, spiritual existence, however closely, for a time, allied with matter, and acting through bodily organs. It is capable of a separate existence, and while in the body, presents for our study phenomena peculiarly its own. Intellectual processes may be more subtle, and their analysis more difficult, than that of things external, because in the attempt the mind is, at once, subject and object, the observer and the observed. And, moreover, when greatly excited, it does not submit to immediate and direct investigation, as the effort at once arrests the excited feeling, and lowers the temperature, so that the state can be analyzed only as it is remembered. But, difficult of attainment as it is, the science that discusses the mind, proposing to show all that is known or may be learned respecting it, certainly challenges the interested attention of all who desire to know themselves. Whatever may be thought of the substance, or immediate origin of the active, thinking soul, consciousness affirms its presence, and its power to know and feel. When in a calm, thoughtful state, the phenomena are as real and as manifest as anything in physics or material things that are open to scientific investigation. By thorough introspection, the inquirer finds himself an invisible person, quite distinct from what is merely corporeal in his belongings, and of which he at once says: It is I; a person or being that he not only distinguishes from all others, but also from his own mental acts and states that are not himself. It needs no argument to prove that the physical frame, made of such material substances as gases, salts, earths, and metals, the particles of which are constantly changing, is not the man. It is not in the highest, truest sense, the body. Every particle of that frame may pass away while the body still remains. The real body is that which retains its organic sameness, amidst the incessant change of its materials. It is not the aggregation of gross substances, visible and tangible, but rather their connection and the life that unites them, that constitute a human body. We need not hesitate to say this life is the gift of God to man, made in his own image, and in his purpose an endowment far higher than mere animal life. When it is withdrawn, the organic structure built up as its earthly habitation is a ruin, and its material elements are scattered, the dust returning to dust again. Others may inquire for the “origin of souls,” asking questions over which many have wearied themselves in vain, we here only confess our faith that the sovereign Lord, “God of the spirits of all flesh,” has the relation of Fatherhood to his human children.

A perfect mental science would require first, the normal action of the intellectual faculties to give phenomena, and then the accurate observation, and orderly arrangement of the phenomena given. To have a starting place there must be the feeling that we are, and can distinguish between ourselves and the mental acts of which we are capable. This consciousness is the root of all our soul science, and without it there could be no fruitful study of the human intellect. It is more than mere feeling, as it implies that activity of mind by which a man distinguishes between his body and soul, the senses and their possessor. It is the self-conscious act of knowing what is within; and when the phenomena or state is presented, the knowledge is intuitive or immediate. No reasoning, or other mental process, is required. The soul confronts itself and its acts face to face, and knows them as they are. The endowment is natural and universal. Though a child at first may show no sign of the possession, it has the capacity, and if normally developed, soon claims the right to be itself and not another. Like other human powers, this also is capable of culture, and may be raised to a state of higher activity and clearer discernment. This improved reflective consciousness brings to view the more occult phenomena within, comparing and classifying things, that it may have a clearer, more discriminating knowledge of the facts considered.

Interrogating this witness, each finds in himself a power to think and reason. That is, an intellectual faculty, by the exercise of which there is intelligence, memory to retain or recall things once known, and imagination, that creates and represents things that are not, as though they were. These are distinct, though inseparable, faculties or powers. Thinking is necessary to exact or well defined knowledge, and until our ready impressions and conceptions are penetrated with thought, and we discern their nature, grounds, and connections, we have no science. Information may be received, facts committed to the memory, but if the treasures are jumbled together, and little thought given to either their analysis or orderly arrangement, they can be of but little value to their possessor. In its perceptions and sensations the mind is actively receptive; and by thought this normal activity is intensified. One who desires a correct knowledge of his own mind must connect his conceptions and impressions in some orderly manner, and think much. If there is an aversion to this, or hindrances arise from the almost incessant demands of business or society, and a tendency to mental dissipation is noticed, we may antidote the evil by mostly avoiding the popular light literature, and choosing, as the companions of our few leisure hours, standard works, in which are treasured the best thoughts of the world’s great thinkers. The intelligent study of the outer world, of nature, having the divine impress on every feature, will also do much to cure the weakness that many are ready to confess, to themselves at least. Nature does not think—has not reason, as man has, but the phenomena presented are full of reasons, the embodiments of God’s thoughts, that are above ours, high as the heavens are above the earth.

The will is the controlling motive power, and decides the question of character. A voluntary agent is responsible for his acts. Where there is conscious freedom, not only to act as he wills, but to will obedience to the dictates of conscience, character is possible. The freedom spoken of, and without which there can be no obligation or responsibility, is, of course, human freedom. The will power is man’s, not that of the brute. The rational, voluntary agent, having conscience, moral ideas, sensibilities, and emotions, is, under law, blame- or praiseworthy, and personally responsible for what he is and does. His involuntary acts, if such are committed, are without moral character. There are some things that are not objects of his choice. When different ways of living are presented, he can freely choose which shall be his. But it is not given him to choose whether he himself shall have a moral character. That is inevitable; and his only option in the matter is as to whether it shall be good or bad.

LOGIC.

When the mind is employed in discriminating, arranging, judging, and reasoning, these several acts are all of a class, and are called rational or logical processes. Their importance can hardly be overestimated, as thus the reasoner gets assured possession of judgments or beliefs that are more or less general, and derives from them those that are particular and applicable in any exigency; or by the inductive method, from the particular facts within his knowledge, arrives at general propositions, and securely rests in them as true. In many, perhaps in most cases, both processes, the deductive and inductive, are used or implied. We understand phenomena or effects by their causes, and infer causes from their effects, explain the present by what has been, and anticipate the future by interpreting the past. We reason from what is seen to the unseen, from the facts of nature to nature’s laws.

Systems of logic, if judiciously arranged, are of much value, and should be studied as guides and helps in our efforts to know the certainty of things. Method in reasoning is of much importance. But while comparatively few understand the rules, or adopt the exact technical terms used by scientific logicians, others, using methods and terms of their own, think vigorously, and reason well. The powers employed by the most thoroughly trained scholar and by the unlettered man may be equal, nor are their methods half so different as some suppose. Though the latter forms no expanded syllogisms,[1] says nothing of “subject,” “predicate,” or “copula,” he as really has his premises, reasons from what he knows, and in many cases reaches his conclusions with about the same feeling of certainty. The knowledge he gains does not differ from that of those who are guided in their reasonings by the best rules that observation and experience suggest. Some of those, who in this matter of logic are a law unto themselves, not only reason well, but often very rapidly. Judgment is given so speedily on the presentation of the case that it seems intuitive. There is but a step from the premises of an argument, securely laid in what is conceded in the statement, or what they already know, to the conclusion that is legitimate, and they take it at once. Now, if this is true, and common sense reasonings often seem so easy, while those conducted by men of much science are often difficult and tedious, it may be asked what advantage, then, is there in the logic of the schools? A sufficient answer is found in the fact that the thoroughly trained logician can solve problems the other never attempts. In his processes the properties and relations observed are less obvious or more complicated than anything presented to the other. To apprehend them clearly, closer attention must be given than most men, without such training, ever give or can give. And then, the conclusions of the ready, rapid, though untrained, reasoner who investigates only common subjects, are really less reliable, because more likely to be founded on too superficial observations. The man of more science, and yet slower progress, is expected to handle the more difficult problems, and subject all their elements to a sharper scrutiny.

LANGUAGE

Is intimately connected with thought, not only as its expression, but as an auxiliary. Thoughts always become clearer and more firmly fixed in the mind by being expressed. Though words are not thoughts, and, carelessly uttered, may be quite meaningless, thoughts not only seek to embody, or clothe themselves in language, but our best thinking is done in the use of words, uttered or unexpressed. Though there may be no sound for the ear nor symbol for the eye, the word inly spoken serves to fix the otherwise transient thought so that it can be afterward recalled, and perhaps uttered, to stimulate the thinking of others. Hence the importance of the study of language, of words and their syntax, as employed to express mental processes. Grammar is important as an intellectual science.

ÆSTHETICS.

The science of the beautiful is an important and delightful branch of study; the knowledge gained being mostly through immediate perceptions and sensible impressions. Beauty, wherever discovered, appeals to the sensibilities, and raises pleasant emotions. As a means of culture it elevates and refines. Communings with nature in her lovelier moods subdue asperities, and inspire gentle, kindly dispositions, while the beautiful creations of architecture, statuary, and painting, of poetry and music, fill the souls of discerning, susceptible persons with indescribable pleasure. But though such emotions are frequently excited, and seem familiar, they are of all our mental phenomena least understood, and most difficult to analyze. Some of our most common experiences are, on examination, found the most inexplicable. All, in a general way, know that beauty of form, proportion and color, wherever seen, excites pleasurable emotions. But our knowledge of sensations and emotions is generally, though direct and immediate, imperfect, and can become thorough only when the first impression is retained, and the higher faculties employed in studying its character and its cause. Dr. Porter’s[2] chapters on “Sense Perceptions” are, on the whole, satisfactory, and will help advance this branch of knowledge toward the dignity of a science. They give an analysis of beauty in objects that address the senses, and also of the emotions it awakens. Thoughtful students confess their need of more help. The science has its charms, but is still in its adolescence. Some things elementary are yet wanting, or known only by the names given them. Men talk of the “line of beauty” in architecture and sculpture, but do not yet know just what it is, or by what peculiarities it works on the sympathies of the beholder. We feel the exquisite pleasure but do not know just wherein the charms of the music that most delights us, consist, nor how it awakens the feeling it does. We can not tell just what it is in the poem we admire that gives its rhythm, figures of speech and imagery such enchanting power. The literature on the subject is extensive. We have, as all who read Ruskin’s[3] works know, a rich treasure of astute observations, with keen, incisive criticisms, but yet no thorough analysis of all the materials necessary to complete the science of Æsthetics.

MORAL SCIENCE, OR ETHICS.

The science of duty, often called moral as relating to customs or habits of thought and action, discusses human obligations, or inquires what responsible voluntary agents ought to do, and why. Man has a moral nature; is so constituted, and placed in such relations that he feels certain things to be right for him, and others wrong; he says: I ought to do this, and that I ought not. These words, or their equivalents, expressive of obligation, can be traced in all languages of which we have any knowledge, and they voice the common sentiment of the race. Men differ widely in their intelligence, and consequently in their ability to discriminate with respect to acts or states that are purely intellectual. Their metaphysics may be cloudy and confused, so that their judgments on such matters will have neither agreement nor authority. But the moral sense discovers moral qualities more clearly. Its decisions are prompt, and their authority is acknowledged. Speculative questions on the subject are not all answered with the same agreement. If it is asked why a thing is right, different persons may answer differently. One says because it is useful; another because it is commanded by a higher authority; and another because it accords with the fitness of things. These are questions for the intellect and not for the moral sense. Its province is simply to decide whether the act or state is right or not, and there it stops. Whether the basis of the rectitude approved is in some quality of the act itself, in an antecedent, or a consequent, may be properly asked, and reasons assigned for the answers given. But such questions are speculative, and the answers do not have, even when the best are given, the force of a moral conviction. In saying a thing is right because it is right, we affirm our conviction of the fact, but tacitly confess we may not know all the reasons why. How the fact is known is sufficiently explained by a reference to consciousness. We are so constituted that when moral qualities, in ourselves or others, are fairly presented and understood, there arise feelings of approval or condemnation, corresponding to that which excites them. Of such convictions and emotions we are at once conscious, and can have no more certain knowledge of anything than of what is thus felt. Connecting them with their exciting cause, it, too, is known, not by any outward or sense perception, yet not less certainly by an inward moral sense, whose decisions are promptly given, and with authority. There are frequent occasions for men to distinguish between what is right and what is merely lawful. A villain, destitute of moral rectitude, who for his own pleasure, or gain, robs society of its brightest jewels, spreading ruin and desolation through the community, may violate no statute, and escape legal condemnation; but, though having no fear of the law or of the courts, he is not less certainly a guilty man.

Conscience, as a faculty of the soul, differs but little from consciousness. Both words are from the same root, and neither, in its primary, etymological meaning, implies anything as to moral character. Consciousness is self-knowledge, the mind’s recognition of its own state as it is; and that a man has a conscience, or capacity for passing moral judgment on himself, is a condition that makes character of any kind possible. Each word, however, has now an additional meaning, sanctioned by general usage. The former generally implies emotions of approval or disapproval, and the latter that there is in the mind a standard of action, and a clear discrimination between right and wrong, with an immediate feeling of responsibility, or obligatory emotions.

Though thus richly endowed with intellect, sensibilities, and will, by nature capable of the highest mental activities, the structure of the soul would be strangely incomplete if the religious element were wanting. But it is not wanting. Man is a religious animal, and ever prone to worship. He has capacities that are not filled, longings unsatisfied, and must go out of himself for help and rest. Of all the sciences that concern him most, no other is half so important as the science of God, an infinite, all-wise, ever-present, personal God; our Creator, Redeemer, Benefactor. This science is transcendent, and confirmed by indubitable evidence. It satisfies and saves. “This is eternal life, to know the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom he hath sent.”

SOCIAL SCIENCE

Investigates, in an orderly, scientific manner, the principles of association, and whatever relates to the interests and improvement of men in communities. It has its basis in psychology, as that science of the soul reveals most clearly the elements of a social nature. By instinctive longings for sympathy and fellowship, men are drawn together, and readily consent to the restraints of society, whose earlier tacit agreements and maxims are at length formulated into rules and laws for their better government.

Civil governments, incomplete at first, and encountering many hindrances, often progress but slowly, and sometimes even recede from vantage ground that has been gained. Some known in history have made but little advancement during the nineteenth century, and still fail to adjust their political machinery to the wants and demands of the people. They will hardly survive much longer without some promise of better progress in the future. All really good governments are not equally good, and that is regarded best which secures the greatest liberty to the individual citizen, consistent with the rights of others and the public security. That end, when honestly proposed, may be, to some extent, secured under very different charters or constitutions, and very much depends on the wisdom of the administration. When the governing power is in the hands of one man, and he irresponsible for his manner of exercising it, it is called an autocracy, or despotism. When vested in one person, whose executive functions are exercised by ministers responsible to a legislative assembly or parliament, it is a constitutional monarchy. If the nobility, or a few principal men govern by a right, in some way claimed, and conceded to them, it is an oligarchy, or an aristocracy. If the power is in the hands of the people themselves, or their immediate representatives, as in the United States, it is a democracy, or republic.

Social science embraces a wide range of subjects of more than ordinary importance. It discusses both principles and facts, the principles that underlie all social institutions, and the practical, economic regulations that are wisely adopted in well ordered, prosperous communities. If the institutions are established, its province is to examine theories, collect, arrange, and generalize facts, that may have some bearing on any proposed corrective and reformatory measures. It scrutinizes public crimes, penal codes, judicial decisions, and prison discipline, with whatever else pertains to social life. It shows the relation of men to men, of the ruler to the governed, of the employer to his employes, of the rich to the poor, the fortunate to the unfortunate, and by its expositions instructs men how to act in their various relations. If the science were much better understood, the dangerous classes would be less dangerous; and the troublesome problems of pauperism, the liquor traffic, Mormonism, and the social evil, would be less appalling to average legislators and judges.

The experience of ages shows that the ameliorating, helpful agencies and influences that lift communities up to higher levels, often operate silently as the leaven, till the whole lump is leavened. In many tribes the advance from savagery and the usurpation by irresponsible leaders, of absolute power toward complete civil liberty and personal rights, has been slow. The change has come by means almost imperceptible, or by struggles that seemed at the time fruitless. The improved condition of society does not bring entire security, or freedom from assault. The yoke once taken from the neck, and the heavy burdens from the shoulders, new ideas of property, justice, and personal rights are developed. The spirit of enterprise is awakened, because each finds himself in the position of affluence and influence, to which his talents, industry and self-denial entitle him. Men become competitors, and inequalities of condition are inevitable. Incompetence, idleness, and extravagance bring want and misery. Wealth and poverty exist side by side, the rich growing richer, and the poor poorer. Class distinctions become odious. Capital and labor, that should be allies, are often in conflict, to the great injury of both. There may be occasion for complaint against those “who oppress the hireling in his wages,” and “grind the faces of the poor.” But many are envious without cause, and suffer only the penalty of their idleness and extravagance, become enemies of the community, and are deaf to remonstrance if they see, or think they see, any way of relieving themselves at the expense of those who have acted more wisely, and possess large estates. Here come in the functions of government, that is of society, with its better notions of right and justice, and power to enforce them. True “social science,” founded on the experience of ages, recognizes the necessity of government, the obligations of the citizen, and the right of all to the property they have lawfully and honestly acquired. It demonstrates that real progress is in the way of a safe conservatism, while it admits the possibility of change and improvement, fully justifying the work of the reformer where reformation is needed. If existing institutions are inadequate because of some radical defect, have outlasted their usefulness, or become oppressive, revolution may be demanded. But any government, though unjust and despotic, is better than anarchy, and should be repudiated only when it is, under all the circumstances, possible to establish a better. When legitimate authority is resisted in the spirit of lawlessness or efforts at revolution prompted by an evil ambition, the actors are guilty. There have been many attempts, mostly abortive, to solve the problem of government, and reconstruct the social fabric. Some of them by good men, whose schemes were simply theoretical and impractical; others by malcontents and destructionists who mistake license for liberty. Plato, a man of probity and justice, but lacking the wisdom of the statesman, prepared a constitution for a model republic, which had too many defects for adoption; a republic with advantages for a select class, but slavery for the masses doomed to manual labor, which was made despicable. More wrote his “Utopia,”[4] regarded by some as a kind of program for a needed social reform. It had little influence with his countrymen, most of whom ranked it with works of the imagination, where it belonged, whether so intended or not. Campanella,[5] a radical communist of Stilo, in Calabria, wrote his Utopia, called “The City of the Sun,” a sensual paradise, in which there was to be a community of goods and of wives. For more than a century socialistic and communistic publications were numerous; many of them denouncing property as a sin, and advocating the greatest license in the intercourse of the sexes. Rousseau, in his discourse on the “Origin and Grounds of Inequality Amongst Men,” speaks with approval of “a state of nature,” something like that among our American Indians before they had any knowledge of civilization. He seems to have supposed there was no inequality, no vice, no misery, among untutored savages, and advised those who could, to return to a state of nature.

The skeptical Owen,[6] and the philosophical Fourier,[7] more practical than others, attempted to establish communities as models or examples of what could be accomplished on their theory, but failure attended their enterprises, or the communities were saved from utter disintegration by the tacit admission of principles that were once disavowed.

Modern socialism, akin to communism, and in all its tendencies subversive of good government, declaims over the poverty and misery of the unhappy masses, laments their insufficient shelter, food, and clothing, is sentimental on the subject of labor and wages, and seeks to rouse the abject sufferers to a sense of their sad condition. Its pictures of suffering are in many cases not overdrawn, and the greatest efforts can hardly exaggerate the facts. But socialism is not “social science.” It is utterly and perversely unscientific; it discusses effects, carefully leaving causes out of view; and would reform communities by corrupting and debasing individuals. With a vague notion that every man has a natural right to whatever he needs, it allows that the problem of equalization may be solved by violence, and thus all brought to a common level. The crimes against society, which have lately appalled us, are doubtless the result of the pernicious principles and teaching of “socialistic reformers.” But a reaction is sure to come, and the better instincts of the race will yet destroy the corrupt tree whose fruit is evil.