can state in each case the important psychical and physical antecedents. I cannot perceive that the force either of the argument from the actual closeness and universality of the connection between psychical and physical fact, and the modifying influence exercised by the body on the mind, or of the opposite argument from the arbitrariness, occultness, and conceivable dissolubility of the connection, will be affected to any appreciable extent. If, however, we suppose the process of change thus traced to be perfectly gradual and continuous, another argument emerges when we carry the process. back until mind vanishes altogether, which we may call the Argument from Continuity. It is urged that if the highest, most distinctly mental phenomena of organised beings are connected by an unbroken series of infinitesimal differences with the lowest (to whose existence we should commonly not apply the term 'mental' or 'psychical' at all), and even with the phenomena of inorganic matter, there is no point at which the existence of mind, as an independent entity, can be conceived to begin. Probably much of the alarm caused to antimaterialists by the zoological theories of Evolution and Natural Selection has been due to the supposed force of this argument. It has been thought that mind could not be independent of matter, if man was gradually developed out of a monkey, and the monkey out of a fish, and so on. We may observe, by the way, that this particular alarm is in any case exaggerated, as the force of the argument, such as it is, seems sufficiently constituted by the undeniable fact that each individual man has been gradually developed out of a portion of his parent's frame, of which the manner of existence was not more psychical than that of the fish; little, therefore, is lost by admitting that his race has gone through a similar course of change. I think, however, that we may challenge the validity of the whole Argument from Continuity against the independent existence of mind. It is based, so far as I understand it, on a supposed difficulty in believing that a new thing has come into existence quite gradually. Now I admit that it is difficult for us to understand how any really new fact can begin to be at all. But this difficulty has to be overcome, it would seem, by all modern schools of thought in the case of individual minds. For, on the one hand, it is undeniable that any particular mind—if we mean no more by this term than the stream of transient phenomena, thoughts, feelings, and volitions, of which we have direct experience-is a new fact. That is, no one can deny that it is different from whatever physical facts antecede or accompany it; and no one again contends that it is composed of pre-existent thoughts, emotions, &c., rearranged in new relations. On the other hand, we have equally to admit that this new fact, so far as empirically known, actually begins to be between certain narrow limits of time. If this be granted I do not see that a perfectly gradual beginning is harder to accept than an abrupt one; on the VOL. VII.-No. 36. BB

contrary, I should say it was certainly easier. There is no doubt a certain difficulty in imaginatively tracing a thing to its origin, if that has to be reached through an infinite series of indefinitely small changes; but this is only Zeno's old puzzle as to Achilles catching the tortoise, turned round and applied to the beginning instead of the end of a finite quantity of infinitesimally divisible change; and we have long agreed not to trouble ourselves about this ancient paradox.

I have spoken so far of mind considered as a whole (or of mental phenomena taken generally); I find, however, that some persons consider it fundamentally important, in discussing the relation of mind and body, to draw a distinction between different kinds of mental fact. They are prepared to admit that the kind of fact, which we distinguish as 'feeling,' or 'sensation,' or ' sense-perception,' may have been completely caused by movements of organic matter; but they maintain that this cannot be the case with other species of psychical phenomena, such as the immediate knowledge of the unity, permanence, identity of the conscious self, or the axioms of arithmetic or geometry, or perhaps abstract notions generally, &c. Much controversy has been carried on about these distinctions, and many persons still seem rather concerned to maintain that general notions,' primitive judgments,' and so forth, cannot be derived from sensations, than that sensations cannot be derived from processes of organic matter. This is surely straining at the gnat, while allowing the camel free entrance. I do not wish to under-estimate the unlikeness that exists between different species of mental phenomena; in particular, between cognitions of any kind and the feelings from which it is sought to derive them. But no difference of this kind seems to me at all equal to the unlikeness that I find between psychical facts generally and the physical facts with which physiology leads us to connect them. Therefore, if we once admit that the movement of particles of matter is an adequate cause of the most elementary feeling, I see no firm ground on which we can argue that it cannot be an adequate cause of the most refined and complicated thought.

A special case, in which great importance has been attached to supposed differences in the origin of different kinds of cognition, is furnished by the controversy before noticed as to the validity of mathematical and physical axioms. impossible that universally true propositions-such as, that two It is often thought to be straight lines cannot inclose a space-should be derived from experience of the particular space in which our particular bodies (or even those of our ancestors) have moved about. Indeed, this is used in opposite ways as an argument on either side of the famous controversy about such axioms: on the one hand, it is maintained that they cannot have had an empirical origin, because of the universal validity which mathematicians agree in attributing to

them; and on the other hand, it is argued that since we can show how they have come from experience, they cannot have a universal, validity; we can only affirm them in respect of our space, not of space generally. Now I freely admit my inability to explain how the movements of particular parts of matter, such as my limbs, muscles, and nerve-particles, should cause in my mind a belief that no two straight lines can ever inclose a space; and I further admit that, supposing the causal connection established, it affords no guarantee of the truth of the belief. But my difficulty begins farther back. I find myself equally unable to explain why any motions of material particles should generate the belief that any two particular straight lines actually do not inclose a space, and again I cannot see that the mere particularity of this cognition is in itself a ground for my accepting it as true. I certainly find myself disposed to make an indefinite number of such particular affirmations in respect of the space with which I am familiar; and my reliance. on such affirmations is continually strengthened by the absence of conflict among them, and by their agreement with similar affirmations made by others. But then I have just the same unreflective certitude, and the same kind of confirmation, in respect of my beliefs as to the universal relations of space; and if these sources of conviction do not furnish a sufficiently strong barrier against philosophical scepticism in the latter case, neither do they in the former. At any rate I have no à priori knowledge that the motions of organic matter are more qualified to cause the one kind of belief than the other, still less that they are qualified to cause either in such a manner as to make it true. And certainly no such knowledge can be obtained from any empirical investigation of the history of the beliefs in question.

Similarly, when we pass to consider the premises of ethical reasoning, or the cognitive faculty conversant with them, it does not appear that the authority of conscience' can be in any way affected by examination of its origin. I am supposing that we admit, as an empirical fact, the existence in most or all minds of some ethical premises, some ultimate beliefs as to the rightness and wrongness of actions considered either in themselves or in relation to some further ends; since if this be denied, the psychogonical investigation assumes a quite different character; it is not Conscience at all-in the ordinary sense of the term--of which the origin is investigated, but some other mental phenomenon. E.g. there are some persons who understand by Conscience merely what they more distinctively call 'moral sentiments;' i.e. the mere likings and dislikings which we feel for certain kinds of human conduct and character, as we do for the human face and figure, costume, scenery, &c. That we have such moral tastes and distastes is undeniable; but it is equally obvious that if these constitute the whole phenomenon

of the moral consciousness, no question can be raised about the relation of its origin to the validity of its dictates or affirmations: since in fact there are no dictates or affirmations to discuss; validity and invalidity are not strictly attributes of mere likes and dislikes. It is, of course, important to ascertain how these tastes and distastes originated, in order that we may see how far they are likely to promote the good or well-being of the individual feeling them, or of society. But then, on this view, such sentiments are considered as possible means to this further end called welfare or well-being; and the ethical premiss, enunciation, or dictate, of which it becomes allimportant to determine the validity, is the implied proposition that a certain mode of being' in a man or a community is well-being,' 'good,' and therefore what we ought to promote. And no one, as far as I know, has maintained with regard to this premiss, this ultimate axiom as to what is 'well' or 'ill' in human existence, that our view of its correctness or incorrectness will be affected by any examination of its origin.

Others again find in the troubles and satisfactions of conscience nothing more than the forecast, more or less definite, of punishments and rewards that may be expected from other human beings in consequence of certain kinds of behaviour. On this view there are two quite distinct questions which may be raised as regards the authority of conscience: first, whether this forecast or anticipation of pain and pleasure truthfully represents the future reality; and secondly, whether the prospect of these particular pains and pleasures ought reasonably to determine our actions. But it does not appear that either of these points can be settled by investigating the history of conscience. In order to find out whether my community is likely to reward or punish me for such and such acts, my obvious course is to study the ways and habits of existing humanity: a knowledge of human tendencies in the past may no doubt help me somewhat to form my conclusion, but only in a secondary and subordinate way. If, however, I ask how these pains and pleasures are to be valued by a reasonable agent, on what principle they are to be preferred or postponed to other agreeable and disagreeable feelings, whether the standard of comparison is to be purely quantitative, or whether considerations of quality are to come in, &c. &c., I evidently raise questions which are altogether out of relation to theories of mental or social history. And this is still more clearly the case if the ethical debate takes a wider range, and it is asked whether pleasure and pain are the sole objects at which it is reasonable to aim; and, if not, what other objects there are, and in what balance the real worth of these can be weighed against amounts of pleasure and pain. Where we are to find satisfactory answers to these questions I am not now considering; but it seems pretty certain that we shall not find them in the study of historical psychology.

HENRY SIDGWICK.

REASONS FOR DOUBT IN THE CHURCH OF ROME: A REPLY.

LORD REDESDALE's paper in the December number of this Review being a pendant to a previous article by another writer entitled 'Apology for Doubt in the Church of England,' is evidently intended for the use and benefit of Roman Catholics. It is clear to us who are of the Household of the Faith that the noble writer does not realise the basis on which the Catholic rests his belief. To doubt wilfully any one article of faith, or to enter on the examination of any dogma with the intention of suspending belief until the conclusion of such examination, would be for a Catholic a deadly sin.

This will be evident if it be borne in mind that the Catholic believes the whole deposit of revelation to have been committed to the care of an organised body possessed of a divine life. He believes this living body, the Church of Christ, to be the sole Guardian, the unerring Teacher, the indefectible Witness of the Faith, and the ultimate Judge in all controversies concerning it. The Catholic believes in revelation because God is very Truth, and cannot deceive nor be deceived; and he accepts this revelation on the authority and testimony of the divine, and therefore infallible, voice of the Church. Mysteries beyond the ken of human understanding, as well as facts and doctrines which might be known by the light of mere reason, thus rest on the same basis of certitude.

In order to be admitted into the Church, the adult has to make an act of faith in this fundamental truth of her existence and authority; and once in the Church, the mind, strengthened by Divine grace, forms the habit of believing in the truths of Christianity. Just as the logician examines the nature and value of the syllogism, and then without further proof uses this instrument, so the adult first examines the credentials and claims of the Church, and having admitted her divine life, her divine authority, and her divine testimony, afterwards accepts her word habitually and without questioning.

Lord Redesdale would have done much to further the cause of Christian unity if he had directed the attention of his readers to the great principle which we have laid down; for the real question underlying all differences between Catholics and Protestants is simply this: