Before explaining the method which I have chosen for the attainment of my purpose, it will be well to set before the reader certain obstacles that he may encounter, so soon as he has determined to seek an initiation into the Philosophy of the School. I will suppose that he has been purged of the prejudices to which attention has been directed in the preceding pages. Fatigued with the Babel of that legion of theories and dreams which, in our day, are undeservedly graced with the title of philosophy, -- hungry after Truth, if haply he may find Her, -- casting a wistful glance back upon that ancient Doctrine which has stood the test of above two thousand years, and calmly holds its own, spite of the unmeasured calumnies and copied scorn of interested adversaries, -- anxious for a foundation upon which to rest his feet and build, -- hopeful, yet doubting, he resolves to try his chance. His difficulties are not over; they have yet, after a sort, to begin. He brings with him to the trial a certain disposition, certain prepossessions, certain intellectual habits, begotten of the genius of his age; and he must be made aware of them at the outset, in order that he may rid himself of them as speedily as he can. These impediments, have been signalized in a thoughtful article which appeared in the Pall Mall Gazette for June 27, 1879; and I cannot do better than take it as the text of what remains to be said on this head, quoting those passages which suit my purpose. The writer observes, 'He' (that is, the student of philosophy) 'should have acquired also, as he naturally will in learning to handle scientific ideas, a certain discipline in the exact use of thought and language. He will understand that metaphor is not argument, and have found out the danger of generalities. And when he comes to apply himself particularly to the standing problems of philosophy, he should likewise understand that philosophy, like other special studies, has its language and its history, both worth knowing something of if one means to take it up seriously.' Again: 'Now the use of independence is to do your own work in your own way, but not to do it in ignorance of what the conditions of it are, and what other people have done before you. But this is a lesson which needs learning; and, having been prevented from learning it sooner as concerning philosophy, we must expect to spend some time in learning it now. Thus a great deal of the difficulty and misunderstanding at present incident to philosophical discussion, comes of pure ignorance -- the ignorance of well-meaning and often otherwise well-informed persons. And this may be seen even in the work of writers who seriously intend to proceed in a scientific manner. Perhaps the commonest form of all is ignorance of the difficulty of the subject. It is frequently assumed that everybody is competent to criticise philosophical theories, and that no philosophical theory can be worth considering which is not clear at first sight to an intelligent man who knows nothing of philosophy.' Yet again: 'Ignorance must be taken to include confused thinking and inaccurate use of terms as well as complete absence of information, which indeed is comparatively harmless.' Once more: 'Great havoc is wrought in the minds of the weaker brethren among philosophical students by scientific phrases and formulas which they do not understand. The wild and unmeaning statements that have been solemnly propounded about Force are alone a surprising monument of human infirmity.' Lastly, to conclude these quotations: 'Then we have ignorance of the philosophical conditions; in other words, absence of the special training required to deal effectively with philosophical questions as such. In this way it may come about that men of science' (physical) 'give the philosophers their revenge.'^{1}

From these extracts, which abound in good sense, I desire to collect certain of the principal obstacles which beset the student's path, when he first enters upon the study of the Scholastic Philosophy. As I am professedly addressing myself to beginners, either young or old; I trust I may be excused for the monitory tone of my observations.

The first obstacle, which may possibly interfere with his progress and success, is an habitual inexactness of thought and expression. This seems to me a pressing danger; because it is one of the characteristics of the age; and I attribute it, in great measure, to the neglect of philosophical training, and to the multitude of subjects enforced in the curriculum of our modern schools. To see a truth, is not to know or comprehend it. Similarly, to seize an idea, is not to realize, or make it one's own. Yet those who are specially gifted with a quickness of intuition, are peculiarly liable to confound the two. As they read, they see at once what is meant. They have caught the idea; but they cannot retain it, because they have not waited to comprehend it. So they pass on from sentence to sentence, imagining that they know all about the subject-matter; and find in the end that they are in possession of an unordered congeries of confused notions, which represent no definite, tangible, truth. In order to comprehend and adequately realize the philosophic truths which are set before us, it will be necessary to go round them, one by one, -- to test each by upposed objections, -- to argue them out in one's own mind, -- to find out their mutual connection and their affinity with other truths of the same order, and even of other orders. In a word, the student should aim with zealous labour to gain distinct as well as clear ideas, -- that is to say, ideas which not only represent their object, but also definitely limit off that object from every other. It is better to delay, (if needs be), for hours over one sentence, till it is consciously mastered; than to go rapidly over thirty or forty pages, gathering up a medley of half-formed ideas as we proceed. This, of course, will be a work of time, for habits are not formed in a day; but it will tell in the long run. It will soon be found, that the labour of intense thought is insensibly lessening; and that new cognitions, as we gradually acquire them, add fresh clearness and precision to those which have preceded them. The author of the above quoted Article, with considerable discernment, has selected the popular idea of Force as his instance of an inexact concept; and, when I say popular, I include the idea of Force which one meets with in many physical and mathematico-physical works. As this idea will occupy our prolonged attention in the second Volume, I will only remark here, that Force is often set before us as a substance, existing of itself and (as it were) in its own right, -- a concept of it, which is consonant neither with the common acceptation of the term nor with the examples of it that are subject to human observation.

If our thoughts are clear and distinct, our expressions, as a general rule, will be clear and distinct likewise. Of all the sciences which are acquired by the natural use of reason, the metaphysical science is the one wherein exactness of expression is most essential. This is perhaps due to the fact, that it deals with abstract and Transcendental truths, whose cognition can be aided but feebly and indirectly by sensile phantasmata; while these phantasmata are neither more nor less than the terms, spiritually uttered, by means of which alone we can think such truths.

It occurs here to warn the student against a not uncommon propensity of beginners for picking up, and making indiscriminate use of, scientific words and phrases, without having acquired an exact notion of what they mean. Better the pebble of David than the panoply of Saul, if you have not essayed the latter. It is indeed reported of O'Connell, that he once reduced an abusive fishwoman of Dublin to silence by pouring out upon her a long selection from the terminology of Euclid: but I greatly doubt whether similar weapons would succeed in more serious controversy. The one object of the true philosopher is, first of all, to discover Truth, and then to impart it to others; and this high purpose, if steadfastly set before his eyes, will effectually preserve him from needlessly parading unusual words or phrases which only minister to vanity and self-conceit.

Another form of inexactness of expression shows itself in a proneness for polysyllabic words. This, objectionable enough anywhere, is unpardonable in English. For it is peculiar to the genius of our language, that its fundamental words are chiefly monosyllabic; and our approved models are conspicuous for their selection of such words, whenever it is possible. Those who have never made the calculation, would probably be surprised at the number of lines in Shakspere, which are either exclusively, or all but exclusively, composed of monosyllables. And this is one reason why the English language is, (as I conceive), so peculiarly adapted for the expression of metaphysical truths. It seems in this respect to bear a striking resemblance to the Greek. Hence, though the Metaphysical Science has for years been so entirely neglected, and though it has never been attempted before to offer the Metaphysics of the School in an English dress; I have, nevertheless, found myself obliged to add but a very few words to the recognized philosophic vocabulary. I would that the same could be said of our modern efforts in the construction of new philosophies. I have seen a recent work on Psychology, which fairly appalled me with its terminology, and forcibly recalled to my mind the professor's frame in the grand academy of Lagado, the metropolis of Balnibarbi. There is nothing which is a surer token of impoverished thought and imperfect knowledge than this diseased inventiveness of new, sesquipedalian, terms. Imitating the manners of the sepia, it obfuscates the waters of truth, in order to escape from inconvenient scrutiny.

There is another hindrance to success in studying the Philosophy of the School, which arises from exaggerated views touching the independence of thought and from a corresponding contempt for, and studied neglect of, the treasures of the past. Men of our time have been so carefully educated in the idea of continuous progress and of the superiority of their own, to all preceding, ages in every sphere of thought, that they deem a recurrence to the teaching of older philosophies as useless and unbecoming, as for a man of mature years to return to the spelling-books and grammars of his childhood. To this must be added that morbid fear of the influence of authority in the formation of opinion, -- that general inculcation of an exaggerated reliance on private judgment, -- that excessive admiration for what are called self-formed men, -- those popular sophisms concerning intellectual freedom, -- which, together, interpose a formidable barrier to progress in the pursuit of metaphysical truth. On the other hand, I should be the last to deny that a certain independence of thought is a property of the true philosopher. But such independence was, as I believe, more practically maintained in the medieval Schools than in the private studies of our modern philosophists, paradoxical as at first sight the assertion may appear.

I freely admit that the student of philosophy must be guided to his conclusions by process of pure reason. Then, and then only, will he merit the name of a philosopher, when his knowledge rests upon strict demonstration. He must eventually rely on intrinsic evidence, where this is possible; and only have recourse to extrinsic evidence by way of confirmation and under certain exceptional circumstances. He must see his own way, and become a slave to no human teacher. Here, however, two excesses are to be avoided. It is a widely different thing, to set before oneself this intellectual emancipation as the goal of continued labour; and to claim an impossible autonomy, while we have as yet to learn the first letters of the alphabet. The one is becoming and desirable; the other, absurd and ruinous.

Who is there venturesome enough to deny, that a student must go through a state of pupilage in Metaphysics, as in all sciences, disciplines, and arts whether liberal or mechanic? He must provisionally trust to authority; and he does wisely in so trusting. The man who digs out a way for himself, may be very original; but his originality will probably show itself in missing the right direction. To follow one's own lights before they can possibly appear, is but doubtful policy; and such eccentricities will eventually assume the form of errors. Independence of thought, by rights, follows after previous discipline. First, the docile pupil; then, the independent thinker, if so be, in due season.

There is another excess to be avoided equally with the former. If the student would hope for success in his philosophical studies, he must never despise or neglect the labours of a glorious past. For, in the first place, by so doing he will lose time uselessly; since he will be toiling at a foundation for himself, while a solid foundation has been already provided, ready to his service. If wise, he will begin where others have left off; so soon, that is, as he is fitted for the task. He will take up the skein of truth from where it has been set free, and continue the work of disentanglement. It surely argues the foolishness of childhood, to unwind the wound silk and to throw it back into a heap of twisted confusion, in order to ensure to oneself the weary task of unravelling it afresh from the commencement. Of course, I do not mean that the matured philosopher is to accept these fundamental and generally accepted truths on faith, -- that is to say, on the mere authority of others howsoever distinguished by their genius and learning; but I maintain that he will do well to seek for the evidence or demonstration of them in their writings, to weigh that evidence and accept it, (if it commends itself to his reason), instead of beginning ab ovo for himself in the vain expectation of finding proof of the self-evident.

In the next place, in order to be able to pursue metaphysical studies to advantage, it is necessary to have an historic acquaintance with the different Schools and systems of Philosophy. Without such knowledge, the earlier part of Aristotle's Metaphysics would be scarcely intelligible; and the Angelic Doctor not unfrequently either discusses or makes allusions to ancient as well as more recent systems, which presuppose some degree of cognizance of such systems in the reader. Nor can it be presumed that we are competent to instruct others, so long as we are destitute of this necessary information. I have lately come across a seeming instance of this deficiency, which will serve for an illustration of my meaning. A modern author, while engaged in giving his readers a synoptical account of the philosophical opinions of Hume, makes the following observation: 'The first and second parts of the twelfth section of the Inquiry are devoted to a condemnation of excessive scepticism, or Pyrrhonism, with which Hume couples a caricature of the Cartesian doubt; but, in the third part, a certain "mitigated scepticism" is recommended and adopted under the title of "academical philosophy." ' I would invite the reader's attention to the last clause in the quotation. Unless the writer has for once forgotten his usually happy clearness of expression, the selection of words and the inverted commas would seem to justify the conclusion, that he had never heard of the Greek Middle and New Academies before; and that he was wholly unacquainted with the Academics of Cicero, (who more or less adhered to the teaching of the Middle Academy), as well as with the philosophical treatises of St. Augustine, wherein this form of scepticism is discussed and refuted. I do not deny that writers thus unprovided may, notwithstanding, have an aptitude for metaphysical investigation; but it cannot be said that they are safe guides or competent authorities.

I repeat, then, that Philosophy occupies no unimportant place in history; consequently, that place should be definitely understood by such as would devote themselves to philosophic study. If this holds good in the case of all philosophies that have had even a temporary hold upon the minds of a people, and have contributed ever so little to the common treasury of human knowledge; with how much greater force does it apply to a philosophy which has had so remarkable an influence for centuries over the Schools of Christian Europe, and has been selected as the most fitting instrument for the scientific evolution of Christian Theology? Yet, how is it likely that students will burden themselves with such additional labour, when they are taught on all sides to regard the folios of the Scholastic Doctors as 'monstrous and lifeless shapes of a former world, having little community with the life of our own?' Moreover, it ought not to be forgotten, that the censure, directed against the Doctors of the School, extends to Aristotle, for the reason that the Scholastic, is substantially identical with the Peripatetic, Philosophy; so that the student will be equally deterred from having recourse to those rivers of wisdom which, flowing forth from the most consummate of human geniuses, have not ceased to fertilize the minds of men for above two thousand years. So true are those words of the writer in the Pall Mall Gazette, 'The use of independence is to do your own work in your own way; but not to do it in ignorance of what the conditions of it are, and what other people have done before you.'

Another possible hindrance to success in the study of Metaphysics has been justly noted by the same writer. It consists in an unconsciousness of the difficulty of the subject, and in an impression, (which public opinion has helped to invest with a measure of plausibility), that no philosophy can be true or worthy of serious regard, which is not easily comprehensible at first sight even by the untrained beginner. How it has come to pass I cannot say, unless it be that men of our time have accustomed themselves to disbelieve in the objective reality of metaphysical and theological Truth; but the fact is incontestable, that the bearing of our men of education (in the conventional sense of this term) towards Metaphysics and the Science of supernatural Theology is very different to that which they observe towards other sciences and disciplines, -- nay, even towards the liberal and mechanical arts. In all other spheres of truth a man is expected to have made himself master of his subject and, for this purpose, to have passed through a sufficiently long apprenticeship of labour and mental discipline, before he ventures to take upon himself the responsibility of attempting to instruct others or of publishing his opinions. Indeed, an instinctive modesty and sense of propriety teach the pupil this salutary lesson; and ordinarily secure him against the risk of self-exposure.

If some rare case should arise, wherein, through proneness to an overweening estimation of his own talents, a man should be foolish enough to publish a Work on geology, or chemistry, or comparative anatomy, without having previously acquired a sufficient knowledge of his subject; he would speedily receive such a lesson from the savans in that particular branch of knowledge and from competent critics, as would effectually deter him from repeating the offence. A lawyer would not deem himself justified in pronouncing a decretorial judgment upon the pathological theory of some distinguished physician, unless it should chance that he had gone through a thorough medical education; and a mathematician, unversed in animal structures, would scarcely think of disputing with a distinguished anatomist touching the relative value of some fossil bone.

Let us suppose that a man, to whom the whole subject was a terra incognita, should take up Mr. Darwin's Book on the Origin of Species in the Animal and Vegetable Kingdom, and, after dipping into a few pages here and there, should cast the Work aside, and publish his discontents to the world in this wise: -- 'The depressing weariness and impatience, which cause us to push this publication aside after each new effort at study, arise, I conceive, from our sense of the futility of the questions discussed, and the mode of discussing them;' what would be the judgment pronounced by public opinion on such an exhibition of temerity? Yet this is precisely the treatment which the Peripatetic, or Scholastic, Philosophy has received at the hands of Mr. Lewes. Cuilibet in arte sua perito credendum, is a text from the bible of common sense. As such it is recognized in all the practical concerns of life.

Why, then, is it, that Metaphysics and the Science of supernatural Theology must not be protected by the same salutary rule? Whence comes it, that men who are not only unversed in these sciences, but whose special studies have engendered habits of thought which are rather uncongenial than otherwise with a contemplation of these higher orders of Truth, pretend to discuss and pronounce their verdict, (frequently with much lack of modesty), upon philosophical Schools and systems; and are not ashamed to publish their half-digested views, or even sudden fancies, on problems the deepest and most momentous that can occupy the human mind? Why is it, that, at the end of a Work professedly written on the anatomy of vertebrates, we should be treated with an extra-polemical Theology and psychological theories that are unique in their way? How does it come to pass, that, in an interesting Work on the Evolution of Man, the author should find it necessary to indulge in repeated diatribes against theologians, School-philosophy, certain metaphysical doctrines, and against the Catholic Church in particular? On what principle are such questions, as 'the moral ordering of the world,' -- 'the History of Creation,' -- 'the teleological philosophy of the Schools,' -- introduced into a dissertation on eggs, egg-cleavage, embryos, protoplasm, rudimentary bodily-structure, and the rest? The writer to whom I am referring absolutely revels in the supposed triumph of his Gastraca theory over the Mosaic cosmogony.

Let me here insert by way of parenthesis, that this theory, (or, rather, the physical phenomena which form its basis), is not only not at variance with the Mosaic account of creation, but serves in a marked manner to elucidate its truth; and that it has been actually forestalled by the Angelic Doctor, as I shall have occasion to point out in my second Volume. But that which I want to know now is, What has Physics to do with the Mosaic cosmogony and a supernatural Revelation, (for, as such, the Bible is offered, and, as such, it is attacked)? She is a trespasser; and it is a work of charity to warn her off the ground. The goat must browse, where it is tied; if it goes beyond, it has slipped the tether. Once more one can rarely take up a book on physical science nowadays, (more particularly if it treats of these infant theories), without becoming absolutely wearied with the repeated attacks on Teleology, (as it is the fashion to call it), or the doctrine of final causes.

But again I ask, What have final causes to do with physical induction? They are a metaphysical question, and altogether beyond the sphere of physics. Surely, it must be, that metaphysical and Theological truths are generally considered to be so easy of attainment as to be the common appanage of all, and to require no special acquirements or intellectual training in him who volunteers to discuss them. In somewhat the same way and under the same delusion, we see others, equally unaccustomed to philosophic thought, who take up at hap-hazard some particular question that forms a single link in the centre of a chain of scientific truths, discussing it, dogmatizing about it, as though it had nothing to do with a before or after by which it is proportioned and determined. Thus it happens that cause in general is confounded with efficient causation, -- unity with mere unity of number, -- Being, with existence, -- the Transcendental with all that transcends the perceptions of sense, -- the infinite with the indefinite, -- space with place, -- infinite time with the eternity of the Infinite. Hence it comes to pass, that our modern Metaphysics is a thing of shreds and patches; -- here a Logic, -- there a sort of Psychology, -- in another work, an Ideology, -- sometimes an essay on causes, -- or a dissertation on final causes, -- or a discussion on the primordial constituents of primordial substance. There is no order or completeness, but a general disintegration; and the disintegrated parts receive their respective names in token of their individuality. Accordingly, we read of Teleology, Aetiology, Morphology, and other imposing ologies without number, which remind one of Job who 'openeth his mouth in vain, and multiplieth words without knowledge.'

{1} Extracts from an Article headed The Discipline of Philosophy.