LECTURES AND ESSAYS
BY PROFESSOR W. K. CLIFFORD.
SUPPLEMENT TO “THE UTERARY GUIDE," APRIL, iSgg.
T h e death o f William Kingdon Clifford at the early age oL thirty-four was a great loss, not only to science, but to the cause of intellectual progress in general. His brilliant powers o f analysis and exposition were only partially devoted to religious and ethical subjects, but so searching was his criticism in those fields that, had his life been prolonged, we cannot doubt he would have proved another and perhaps even abler Huxley in his championship of liberty of thought. And while his bright and subtle intellect illuminated each topic he handled, his sincerity, vivacity, and amiability of nature endeared him to all with whom he personally associated.
The volume of Lectures and Essays (published by Macmillan ; 8s. 6d.), by which Professor Clifford is best remembered, is so largely taken up with mathematical science as to be ill adapted for popular summary. It has, however, been considered that many ideas may be profitably gleaned from the book, particularly from the essays which bear directly on vexed questions in morals and theology. Let us, therefore, gather our rosebuds wherever we can find them, and heed not the pricking of the scientific thorn. First, we note that a review of the “ Unseen Universe ” opens with a pregnant passage on
IMMORTALITY.
All the words used to describe this immortality that is longed for are negative words: «'/«-mortality, end-/m life, ««-finite existence. Endless life is an inconceivable thing, for an endless time would be necessary to form an idea of it. Now, it is only by a stretch of language that we can be said to desire that which is inconceivable. No doubt many persons say that they are smitten with an insatiable longing for the unattainable and ineffable, but this means that they feel generally dissatisfied, and do not at all know what they want. Longing for deathlessness means simply shrin k in g fr om death. However or whenever we who live endeavour) to realize an end to this healthy life of action in ourselves j or in our brethren, the effort is a painful one; and the mind, in so far as it is healthy, tries to put it off and avoid it.
The wish, then, to avoid dying at any specified time is | father to the thought that we are going to live for ever. Our present life rebels against the idea of its own final) destruction. And, forasmuch as so many and so mighty generations have in time past ended in death their noble and brave battle with the elements, that we also and our j brethren can in no wise hope to escape their fate, therefore we are sorely driven to find some way by which at least the i image of that ending shall be avoided and set aside. One i man sinks the individual consciousness in the glory ofj something greater that will go on living and working when he is at rest. In thought the dying soldier marches with a i triumphant army. The martyr anticipates with joy the victory of an idea. That is one way of defeating death. But the more popular way is to imagine that, after death has done its worst, the orderly healthy activities of life will be renewed in a future and never-ending existence. Whence does this desire really come, and what is its mean ing? Surely it is a necessary condition of life that has desires at all, that these desires should be towards life and not away from i t ; seeing how cheap and easy a thing i s ' destruction on all hands, and how hard it is for a race or unit to hold fast in the great struggle for existence. Surely ! our way is paved with the bones of those who have loved | life and movement too little, and lost it before their time. I f we could think of death without shrinking, it would only mean that this world was no place for us, and that w e ' should make haste to be gone to make room for our betters.
The lecture on
“ BODY AND M IND ”
treats at length of the phenomena of the nervous and psychical systems, and their various connections and relations. The motions of organic bodies are complete in i themselves, and there is no need to call in any other than mechanical laws to account for them. An external stimulus to the eye, for instance, transmits, but does not create, energy. It might just as well be supposed that, when a vessel crosses the line, there is a creation of energy for the purpose. Nor is it correct to say that the mind is a force; if it were, we should be able to perceive it. We are to regard the body as a physical machine, which goes by itself, according to a physical law— that is to say, is automatic. Excepting the fact that other men are conscious, there is no reason why we should not regard the human body as merely an exceedingly complicated machine, which is wound up by putting food into the mouth. But it is not merely a machine, because consciousness goes with it. The mind, then, is to be regarded as a stream of feelings which runs parallel to, and simultaneous with, a certain part of the action of the body. The question arises,
DOES MIND EXIST I1Y ITSELF ?
As all the mind we know of exists in close connection with complex forms of matter, we should not assert that mind exists apart from matter without very strong reason. I f mind is the reality or substance of that which appears to us as brain-action, the supposition of mind without brain is the supposition of an organized material substance not affecting other substances (for, if it did, it might be perceived), and therefore not affected by them ; in other words, it is the supposition of immaterial matter— a contradiction in terms to the fundamental assumption o f the uniformity of nature, without practically believing in which we should none of us have been here to-day. But, if mind without brain is a contradiction, is it not still possible that an organization like the brain can exist without being perceived— without our being able to hold it fast, and weigh it, and cut it up ? Now, this is a physical question, and we know quite enough about the physical world to say “ Certainly not.” It is made of atoms and ether, and there is no room in it for ghosts.
A long lecture on
“ R IGHT AND WRONG ”
is full of what the author calls platitudes. No doubt much of it is common knowledge, because it was Clifford’s object to make use of familiar conceptions, to employ words in their every-day sense, but to make their significance more clearly understood by his hearers. What is right for me to do now, he says, seeing that I am here with a certain character, and a certain moral sense as part o f it, is just what I feel to be right. The individual conscience is, in the moment of volition, the only possible judge of what is right; there is no conflicting claim. But, if we are deliberating about the future, we know that we can modify our conscience gradually by associating with people reading certain books, and paying attention to certain ideas and feelings ; and we may ask ourselves : ‘ How shall we modify our conscience, if at all ? What kind of conscience shall we try to get ? What is the best conscience ?’ It is clearly shown in the second and third chapters of Darwin’s Descent o f Man that the function of conscience is primarily the preservation o f society, and. the trained conscience approves those actions which tend to the advantage of the community in the struggle for existence. It is to the community that conscience owes allegiance. Properly speaking, there are no self-regarding virtues; everything which makes us better is only morally right in so far as it makes us better citizens. It is the great merit of the system known as utilitarianism that it explicitly sets forth the community as the object of moral allegiance. But happiness is not the end of right action. My happiness is of no use to the community except in so far as it makes me a more efficient citizen— that is to say, it is rightly desired as a means, and not as an end The end may be described as the greatest efficiency of all citizens as such.
