Mr. Blood inhabits a city otherwise, I imagine, quite unvisited by the Muses7, the town called Amsterdam, situated8 on the New York Central Railroad. What his regular or bread-winning occupation may be I know not, but it can’t have made him super-wealthy. He is an author only when the fit strikes him, and for short spurts9 at a time; shy, moreover, to the point of publishing his compositions only as private tracts10, or in letters to such far-from-reverberant organs of publicity11 as the Gazette or the Recorder of his native Amsterdam, or the Utica Herald12 or the Albany Times. Odd places for such subtile efforts to appear in, but creditable to American editors in these degenerate13 days! Once, indeed, the lamented14 W. T. Harris of the old “Journal of Speculative15 Philosophy” got wind of these epistles, and the result was a revision of some of them for that review (Philosophic Reveries, 1889). Also a couple of poems were reprinted from their leaflets by the editor of Scribner’s Magazine (“The Lion of the Nile,” 1888, and| “Nemesis,” 1899). But apart from these three dashes before the footlights, Mr. Blood has kept behind the curtain all his days.27
The author’s maiden16 adventure was the Anoesthetic Revelation, a pamphlet printed privately17 at Amsterdam in 1874. I forget how it fell into my hands, but it fascinated me so “weirdly” that I am conscious of its having been one of the stepping-stones of my thinking ever since. It gives the essence of Blood’s philosophy, and shows most of the features of his talent — albeit19 one finds in it little humor and no verse. It is full of verbal felicity, felicity sometimes of precision, sometimes of metaphoric20 reach; it begins with dialectic reasoning, of an extremely Fichtean and Hegelian type, but it ends in a trumpet-blast of oracular mysticism, straight from the insight wrought21 by anaesthetics — of all things in the world — and unlike anything one ever heard before. The practically unanimous tradition of “regular” mysticism has been unquestionably monistic; and inasmuch as it is the characteristic of mystics to speak, not as the scribes, but as men who have “been there” and seen with their own eyes, I think that this sovereign manner must have made some other pluralistic-minded students hesitate, as I confess that it has often given pause to me. One cannot criticise22 the vision of a mystic — one can but pass it by, or else accept it as having some amount of evidential weight. I felt unable to do either with a good conscience until I met with Mr. Blood. His mysticism, which may, if one likes, be understood as monistic in this earlier utterance23, develops in the later ones a sort of “left-wing” voice of defiance24, and breaks into what to my ear has a radically25 pluralistic sound. I confess that the existence of this novel brand of mysticism has made my cowering26 mood depart. I feel now as if my own pluralism were not without the kind of support which mystical corroboration27 may confer. Morrison can no longer claim to be the only beneficiary of whatever right mysticism may possess to lend prestige.
This is my philosophic, as distinguished28 from my literary, interest, in introducing Mr. Blood to this more fashionable audience: his philosophy, however mystical, is in the last resort not dissimilar from my own. I must treat him by “extracting” him, and simplify — certainly all too violently — as I extract. He is not consecutive29 as a writer, aphoristic30 and oracular rather; and being moreover sometimes dialectic, sometimes poetic31, and sometimes mystic in his manner; sometimes monistic and sometimes pluralistic in his matter, I have to run my own risk in making him orate pro33 domo mea, and I am not quite unprepared to hear him say, in case he ever reads these pages, that I have entirely34 missed his point. No matter; I will proceed.
I
I will separate his diverse phases and take him first as a pure dialectician. Dialectic thought of the Hegelian type is a whirlpool into which some persons are sucked out of the stream which the straightforward35 understanding follows. Once in the eddy37, nothing but rotary38 motion can go on. All who have been in it know the feel of its swirl39 — they know thenceforward that thinking unreturning on itself is but one part of reason, and that rectilinear mentality40, in philosophy at any rate, will never do. Though each one may report in different words of his rotational41 experience, the experience itself is almost childishly simple, and whosoever has been there instantly recognizes other authentic42 reports. To have been in that eddy is a freemasonry of which the common password is a “fie” on all the operations of the simple popular understanding.
In Hegel’s mind the vortex was at its liveliest, and any one who has dipped into Hegel will recognize Mr. Blood to be of the same tribe. “That Hegel was pervaded43 by the great truth,” Blood writes, “cannot be doubted. The eyes of philosophy, if not set directly on him, are set towards the region which he occupied. Though he may not be the final philosopher, yet pull him out, and all the rest will be drawn44 into his vacancy45.”
Drawn into the same whirlpool, Mr. Blood means. Non-dialectic thought takes facts as singly given, and accounts for one fact by another. But when we think of “all fact,” we see that nothing of the nature of fact can explain it, “for that were but one more added to the list of things to be accounted for. . . . The beginning of curiosity, in the philosophic sense,” Mr. Blood again writes, “is the stare [Transcriber’s note: state?] of being at itself, in the wonder why anything is at all, and what this being signifies. Naturally we first assume the void, and then wonder how, with no ground and no fertility, anything should come into it.” We treat it as a positive nihility, “a barrier from which all our batted balls of being rebound46.”
Upon this idea Mr. Blood passes the usual transcendentalist criticism. There is no such separate opposite to being; yet we never think of being as such — of pure being as distinguished from specific forms of being — save as what stands relieved against this imaginary background. Being has no outline but that which non-being makes, and the two ideas form an inseparable pair. “Each limits and defines the other. Either would be the other in the same position, for here (where there is as yet no question of content, but only of being itself) the position is all and the content is nothing. Hence arose that paradox47: ‘Being is by nothing more real than not-being.’”
“Popularly,” Mr. Blood goes on, “we think of all that is as having got the better of non-being. If all were not — that, we think, were easy: there were no wonder then, no tax on ingenuity48, nothing to be accounted for. This conclusion is from the thinking which assumes all reality as immediately given assumes knowledge as a simple physical light, rather than as a distinction involving light and darkness equally. We assume that if the light were to go out, the show would be ended (and so it would); but we forget that if the darkness were to go out, that would be equally calamitous51. It were bad enough if the master had lost his crayon, but the loss of the blackboard would be just as fatal to the demonstration52. Without darkness light would be useless — universal light as blind as universal darkness. Universal thing and universal no-thing were indistinguishable. Why, then, assume the positive, the immediately affirmative, as alone the ingenious? Is not the mould as shapely as the model? The original ingenuity does not show in bringing light out of darkness, nor in bringing things out of nothing, but in evolving, through the just opposition53 of light and darkness, this wondrous54 picture, in which the black and white lines have equal significance — in evolving from life and death at once, the conscious spirit . . . .
“It is our habit to think of life as dear, and of death as cheap (though Tithonus found them otherwise), or, continuing the simile55 of the picture, that paper is cheap while drawing is expensive; but the engraver56 had a different estimation in one sense, for all his labor57 was spent on the white ground, while he left untouched those parts of the block which make the lines in the picture. If being and non-being are both necessary to the presence of either, neither shall claim priority or preference. Indeed, we may fancy an intelligence which, instead of regarding things as simply owning entity58, should regard chiefly their background as affected59 by the holes which things are making in it. Even so, the paper-maker might see your picture as intrusive60!”
Thus “does the negation61 of being appear as indispensable in the making of it.” But to anyone who should appeal to particular forms of being to refute this paradox, Mr. Blood admits that “to say that a picture, or any other sensuous62 thing, is the same as the want of it, were to utter nonsense indeed: there is a difference equivalent to the whole stuff and merit of the picture; but in so far as the picture can be there for thought, as something either asserted or negated63, its presence or its absence are the same and indifferent. By its absence we do not mean the absence of anything else, nor absence in general; and how, forsooth, does its absence differ from these other absences, save by containing a complete description of the picture? The hole is as round as the plug; and from our thought the ‘picture’ cannot get away. The negation is specific and descriptive, and what it destroys it preserves tor our conception.”
The result is that, whether it be taken generally or taken specifically, all that which either is or is not is or is not by distinction or opposition. “And observe the life, the process, through which this slippery doubleness endures. Let us suppose the present tense, that gods and men and angels and devils march all abreast64 in this present instant, and the only real time and date in the universe is now. And what is this instant now? Whatever else, it is process — becoming and departing; with what between? Simply division, difference; the present has no breadth for if it had, that which we seek would be the middle of that breadth. There is no precipitate65, as on a stationary66 platform, of the process of becoming, no residuum of the process of departing, but between the two is a curtain, the apparition67 of difference, which is all the world.”
I am using my scissors somewhat at random68 on my author’s paragraphs, since one place is as good as another for entering a ring by, and the expert reader will discern at once the authentic dialectic circling. Other paragraphs show Mr. Blood as more Hegelian still, and thoroughly69 idealistic:—
“Assume that knowing is distinguishing, and that distinction is of difference; if one knows a difference, one knows it as of entities70 which afford it, and which also he knows; and he must know the entities and the difference apart — one from the other. Knowing all this, he should be able to answer the twin question, ‘What is the difference between sameness and difference?’ It is a ‘twin’ question, because the two terms are equal in the proposition, and each is full of the other . . . .
“Sameness has ‘all the difference in the world’— from difference; and difference is an entity as difference — it being identically that. They are alike and different at once, since either is the other when the observer would contrast it with the other; so that the sameness and the difference are ‘subjective71,’ are the property of the observer: his is the ‘limit’ in their unlimited72 field . . . .
“We are thus apprized that distinction involves and carries its own identity; and that ultimate distinction — distinction in the last analysis — is self-distinction, ‘self-knowledge,’ as we realize it consciously every day. Knowledge is self-referred: to know is to know that you know, and to be known as well.
“‘Ah! but both in the same time?’ inquires the logician74. A subject-object knowing itself as a seamless unit, while yet its two items show a real distinction: this passes all understanding.”
But the whole of idealism goes to the proof that the two sides cannot succeed one another in a time-process. “To say you know, and you know that you know, is to add nothing in the last clause; it is as idle as to say that you lie, and you know that you lie,” for if you know it not you lie not.
Philosophy seeks to grasp totality, “but the power of grasping or consenting to totality involves the power of thought to make itself its own object. Totality itself may indeed be taken by the na?ve intellect as an immediate49 topic, in the sense of being just an object, but it cannot be just that; for the knower, as other or opposite, would still be within that totality. The ‘universe’ by definition must contain all opposition. If distinction should vanish, what would remain? To what other could it change as a whole? How can the loss of distinction make a difference? Any loss, at its utmost, offers a new status with the old, but obviously it is too late now to efface75 distinction by a change. There is no possible conjecture76, but such as carries with it the subjective that holds it; and when the conjecture is of distinction in general, the subjective fills the void with distinction of itself. The ultimate, ineffaceable distinction is self-distinction, self-consciousness. . . . ‘Thou art the unanswered question, couldst see thy proper eye.’ . . . The thought that must be is the very thought of our experience; the ultimate opposition, the to be and not to be, is personality, spirit — somewhat that is in knowing that it is, and is nothing else but this knowing in its vast relations.28
“Here lies the bed-rock; here the brain-sweat of twenty-five centuries crystallizes to a jewel five words long: ‘The Universe has No Opposite.’ For there the wonder of that which is, rests safe in the perception that all things are only through the opposition which is their only fear.”
“The inevitable77 generally,” in short, is exactly and identically that which in point of fact is actually here.
This is the familiar nineteenth-century development of Kant’s idealistic vision. To me it sounds monistic enough to charm the monist in me unreservedly. I listen to the felicitously-worded concept-music circling round itself, as on some drowsy78 summer noon one listens under the pines to the murmuring of leaves and insects, and with as little thought of criticism.
But Mr. Blood strikes a still more vibrant79 note: “No more can be than rationally is; and this was always true. There is no reason for what is not; but for what there is reason, that is and ever was. Especially is there no becoming of reason, and hence no reason for becoming, to a sufficient intelligence. In the sufficient intelligence all things always are, and are rational. To say there is something yet to be which never was, not even in the sufficient intelligence wherein the world is rational and not a blind and orphan80 waif, is to ignore all reason. Aught that might be assumed as contingently82 coming to be could only have ‘freedom’ for its origin; and ‘freedom’ has not fertility or invention, and is not a reason for any special thing, but the very vacuity83 of a ground for anything in preference to its room. Neither is there in bare time any principle or originality84 where anything should come or go . . . .
“Such idealism enures greatly to the dignity and repose85 of man. No blind fate, prior to what is, shall necessitate86 that all first be and afterward87 be known, but knowledge is first, with fate in her own hands. When we are depressed88 by the weight and immensity of the immediate, we find in idealism a wondrous consolation89. The alien positive, so vast and overwhelming by itself, reduces its pretensions90 when the whole negative confronts it on our side.29 It matters little for its greatness when an equal greatness is opposed. When one remembers that the balance and motion of the planets are so delicate that the momentary91 scowl92 of an eclipse may fill the heavens with tempest, and even affect the very bowels93 of the earth — when we see a balloon, that carries perhaps a thousand pounds, leap up a hundred feet at the discharge of a sheet of note paper — or feel it stand deathly still in a hurricane, because it goes with the hurricane, sides with it, and ignores the rushing world below — we should realize that one tittle of pure originality would outweigh94 this crass95 objective, and turn these vast masses into mere96 breath and tissue-paper show.” 30
But whose is the originality? There is nothing in what I am treating as this phase of our author’s thought to separate it from the old-fashioned rationalism. There must be a reason for every fact; and so much reason, so fact. The reason is always the whole foil and background and negation of the fact, the whole remainder of reality. “A man may feel good only by feeling better. . . . Pleasure is ever in the company and contrast of pain; for instance, in thirsting and drinking, the pleasure of the one is the exact measure of the pain of the other, and they cease precisely97 together — otherwise the patient would drink more. The black and yellow gonfalon of Lucifer is indispensable in any spiritual picture.” Thus do truth’s two components98 seem to balance, vibrating across the centre of indifference99; “being and non-being have equal value and cost,” and “mainly are convertible100 in their terms.” 31
This sounds radically monistic; and monistic also is the first account of the Ether-revelation, in which we read that “thenceforth each is all, in God. . . . The One remains101, the many change and pass; and every one of us is the One that remains.”
II
It seems to me that any transcendental idealist who reads this article ought to discern in the fragmentary utterances102 which I have quoted thus far, the note of what he considers the truer dialectic profundity103. He ought to extend the glad hand of fellowship to Mr. Blood; and if he finds him afterwards palavering with the enemy, he ought to count him, not as a simple ignoramus or Philistine104, but as a renegade and relapse. He cannot possibly be treated as one who sins because he never has known better, or as one who walks in darkness because he is congenitally blind.
Well, Mr. Blood, explain it as one may, does turn towards the darkness as if he had never seen the light. Just listen for a moment to such irrationalist deliverances on his part as these:—
“Reason is neither the first nor the last word in this world. Reason is an equation; it gives but a pound for a pound. Nature is excess; she is evermore, without cost or explanation.
‘Is heaven so poor that justice
Metes105 the bounty106 of the skies?
So poor that every blessing107
Fills the debit108 of a cost?
That all process is returning?
And all gain is of the lost?’
Go back into reason, and you come at last to fact, nothing more — a givenness, a something to wonder at and yet admit, like your own will. And all these tricks for logicizing originality, self-relation, absolute process, subjective contradiction, will wither109 in the breath of the mystical tact110; they will swirl down the corridors before the besom of the everlasting111 Yea.”
Or again: “The monistic notion of a oneness, a centred wholeness, ultimate purpose, or climacteric result of the world, has wholly given way. Thought evolves no longer a centred whole, a One, but rather a numberless many, adjust it how we will.”
Or still again: “The pluralists have talked philosophy to a standstill — Nature is contingent81, excessive and mystical essentially112.”
Have we here contradiction simply, a man converted from one faith to its opposite? Or is it only dialectic circling, like the opposite points on the rim113 of a revolving114 disc, one moving up, one down, but replacing one another endlessly, while the whole disc never moves? If it be this latter — Mr. Blood himself uses the image — the dialectic is too pure for me to catch: a deeper man must mediate50 the monistic with the pluralistic Blood. Let my incapacity be castigated115, if my “Subject” ever reads this article, but let me treat him from now onwards as the simply pluralistic mystic which my reading of the rest of him suggests. I confess to some dread116 of my own fate at his hands. In making so far an ordinary transcendental idealist of him, I have taken liberties, running separate sentences together, inverting117 their order, and even altering single words, for all which I beg pardon; but in treating my author from now onwards as a pluralist, interpretation118 is easier, and my hands can be less stained (if they are stained) with exegetic119 blood.
I have spoken of his verbal felicity, and alluded121 to his poetry. Before passing to his mystic gospel, I will refresh the reader (doubtless now fatigued122 with so much dialectic) by a sample of his verse. “The Lion of the Nile” is an allegory of the “champion spirit of the world” in its various incarnations.
Thus it begins:—
“Whelped on the desert sands, and desert bred
From dugs whose sustenance123 was blood alone —
A life translated out of other lives,
I grew the king of beasts; the hurricane
Leaned like a feather on my royal fell;
I took the Hyrcan tiger by the scruff
And tore him piecemeal124; my hot bowels laughed
And my fangs125 yearned126 for prey127. Earth was my lair128:
I slept on the red desert without fear:
I roamed the jungle depths with less design
Than e’en to lord their solitude129; on crags
That cringe from lightning — black and blasted fronts
That crouch130 beneath the wind-bleared stars, I told
My heart’s fruition to the universe,
And all night long, roaring my fierce defy,
I thrilled the wilderness131 with aspen terrors,
And challenged death and life . . . .”
Again:
“Naked I stood upon the raked arena132
Beneath the pennants133 of Vespasian,
While seried thousands gazed — strangers from Caucasus,
Men of the Grecian Isles134, and Barbary princes,
To see me grapple with the counterpart
Of that I had been — the raptorial jaws135,
The arms that wont136 to crush with strength alone,
The eyes that glared vindictive137. — Fallen there,
Vast wings upheaved me; from the Alpine138 peaks
Whose avalanches139 swirl the valley mists
And whelm the helpless cottage, to the crown
Of Chimborazo, on whose changeless jewels
The torrid rays recoil140, with ne’er a cloud
To swathe their blistered141 steps, I rested not,
But preyed142 on all that ventured from the earth,
An outlaw143 of the heavens. — But evermore
Must death release me to the jungle shades;
And there like Samson’s grew my locks again
In the old walks and ways, till scapeless fate
Won me as ever to the haunts of men,
Luring144 my lives with battle and with love.” . . .
I quote less than a quarter of the poem, of which the rest is just as good, and I ask: Who of us all handles his English vocabulary better than Mr. Blood?32
His proclamations of the mystic insight have a similar verbal power:—
“There is an invariable and reliable condition (or uncondition) ensuing about the instant of recall from anaesthetic stupor145 to ‘coming to,’ in which the genius of being is revealed. . . . No words may express the imposing146 certainty of the patient that he is realizing the primordial147 Adamic surprise of Life.
“Repetition of the experience finds it ever the same, and as if it could not possibly be otherwise. The subject resumes his normal consciousness only to partially148 and fitfully remember its occurrence, and to try to formulate149 its baffling import — with but this consolatory150 afterthought: that he has known the oldest truth, and that he has done with human theories as to the origin, meaning, or destiny of the race. He is beyond instruction in ‘spiritual things.’ . . .
“It is the instant contrast of this ‘tasteless water of souls’ with formal thought as we ‘come to,’ that leaves in the patient an astonishment151 that the awful mystery of Life is at last but a homely152 and a common thing, and that aside from mere formality the majestic153 and the absurd are of equal dignity. The astonishment is aggravated154 as at a thing of course, missed by sanity155 in overstepping, as in too foreign a search, or with too eager an attention: as in finding one’s spectacles on one’s nose, or in making in the dark a step higher than the stair. My first experiences of this revelation had many varieties of emotion; but as a man grows calm and determined156 by experience in general, so am I now not only firm and familiar in this once weird18 condition, but triumphant157, divine. To minds of sanguine158 imagination there will be a sadness in the tenor159 of the mystery, as if the key-note of the universe were low; for no poetry, no emotion known to the normal sanity of man, can furnish a hint of its primeval prestige, and its all-but appalling160 solemnity; but for such as have felt sadly the instability of temporal things there is a comfort of serenity161 and ancient peace; while for the resolved and imperious spirit there are majesty162 and supremacy163 unspeakable. Nor can it be long until all who enter the anaesthetic condition (and there are hundreds every secular164 day) will be taught to expect this revelation, and will date from its experience their initiation165 into the Secret of Life . . . .
“This has been my moral sustenance since I have known of it. In my first printed mention of it I declared: ‘The world is no more the alien terror that was taught me. Spurning166 the cloud-grimed and still sultry battlements whence so lately Jehovan thunders boomed, my gray gull167 lifts her wing against the night fall, and takes the dim leagues with a fearless eye.’ And now, after twenty-seven years of this experience, the wing is grayer, but the eye is fearless still, while I renew and doubly emphasize that declaration. I know, as having known, the meaning of Existence; the sane168 centre of the universe — at once the wonder and the assurance of the soul.”
After this rather literary interlude I return to Blood’s philosophy again. I spoke120 a while ago of its being an “irrationalistic” philosophy in its latest phase. Behind every “fact” rationalism postulates169 its “reason.” Blood parodizes this demand in true nominalistic fashion. “The goods are not enough, but they must have the invoice170 with them. There must be a name, something to read. I think of Dickens’s horse that always fell down when they took him out of the shafts171; or of the fellow who felt weak when naked, but strong in his overcoat.” No bad mockery, this, surely, of rationalism’s habit of explaining things by putting verbal doubles of them beneath them as their ground!
“All that philosophy has sought as cause, or reason,” he says, “pluralism subsumes in the status and the given fact, where it stands as plausible172 as it may ever hope to stand. There may be disease in the presence of a question as well as in the lack of an answer. We do not wonder so strangely at an ingenious and well-set-up effect, for we feel such in ourselves; but a cause, reaching out beyond the verge173 [of fact] and dangling174 its legs in nonentity175, with the hope of a rational foothold, should realize a strenuous176 life. Pluralism believes in truth and reason, but only as mystically realized, as lived in experience. Up from the breast of a man, up to his tongue and brain, comes a free and strong determination, and he cries, originally, and in spite of his whole nature and environment, ‘I will.’ This is the Jovian fiat177, the pure cause. This is reason; this or nothing shall explain the world for him. For how shall he entertain a reason bigger than himself? . . . Let a man stand fast, then, as an axis178 of the earth; the obsequious179 meridians180 will bow to him, and gracious latitudes181 will measure from his feet.”
This seems to be Blood’s mystical answer to his own monistic statement which I quoted above, that “freedom” has no fertility, and is no reason for any special thing.33 “Philosophy,” Mr. Blood writes to me in a letter, “is past. It was the long endeavor to logicize what we can only realize practically or in immediate experience. I am more and more impressed that Heraclitus insists on the equation of reason and unreason, or chance, as well as of being and not-being, etc. This throws the secret beyond logic73, and makes mysticism outclass philosophy. The insight that mystery — the Mystery, as such is final, is the hymnic182 word. If you use reason pragmatically, and deny it absolutely, you can’t be beaten; be assured of that. But the Fact remains, and of course the Mystery.” 34
The “Fact,” as I understand the writer here to mean it, remains in its native disseminated183 shape. From every realized amount of fact some other fact is absent, as being uninvolved. “There is nowhere more of it consecutively184, perhaps, than appears upon this present page.” There is, indeed, to put it otherwise, no more one all-enveloping fact than there is one all-enveloping spire185 in an endlessly growing spiral, and no more one all-generating fact than there is one central point in which an endlessly converging186 spiral ends. Hegel’s “bad infinite” belongs to the eddy as well as to the line. “Progress?” writes our author. “And to what? Time turns a weary and a wistful face; has he not traversed an eternity187? and shall another give the secret up? We have dreamed of a climax188 and a consummation, a final triumph where a world shall burn en barbecue; but there is not, cannot be, a purpose of eternity; it shall pay mainly as it goes, or not at all. The show is on; and what a show, if we will but give our attention! Barbecues, bonfires, and banners? Not twenty worlds a minute would keep up our bonfire of the sun; and what banners of our fancy could eclipse the meteor pennants of the pole, or the opaline splendors189 of the everlasting ice? . . . Doubtless we are ostensibly progressing, but there have been prosperity and highjinks before. Nineveh and Tyre, Rome, Spain, and Venice also had their day. We are going, but it is a question of our standing36 the pace. It would seem that the news must become less interesting or tremendously more so —‘a breath can make us, as a breath has made.’”
Elsewhere we read: “Variety, not uniformity, is more likely to be the key to progress. The genius of being is whimsical rather than consistent. Our strata190 show broken bones of histories all forgotten. How can it be otherwise? There can be no purpose of eternity. It is process all. The most sublime191 result, if it appeared as the ultimatum192, would go stale in an hour; it could not be endured.”
Of course from an intellectual point of view this way of thinking must be classed as scepticism. “Contingency forbids any inevitable history, and conclusions are absurd. Nothing in Hegel has kept the planet from being blown to pieces.” Obviously the mystical “security,” the “apodal sufficiency” yielded by the anaesthetic revelation, are very different moods of mind from aught that rationalism can claim to father — more active, prouder, more heroic. From his ether-intoxication Blood may feel towards ordinary rationalists “as Clive felt towards those millions of Orientals in whom honor had no part.” On page 6, above, I quoted from his “Nemesis”—“Is heaven so poor that justice,” etc. The writer goes on, addressing the goddess of “compensation” or rational balance; —
“How shalt thou poise193 the courage
That covets194 all things hard?
How pay the love unmeasured
That could not brook195 reward?
How prompt self-loyal honor
Supreme196 above desire,
That bids the strong die for the weak,
The martyrs197 sing in fire?
Why do I droop198 in bower199
And sigh in sacred hall?
Why stifle200 under shelter?
Yet where, through forest tall,
The breath of hungry winter
In stinging spray resolves,
I sing to the north wind’s fury
And shout with the coarse-haired wolves?
* * * * * *
What of thy priests’ confuting,
Of fate and form and law,
Of being and essence and counterpoise,
Of poles that drive and draw?
Ever some compensation,
Some pandering201 purchase still!
But the vehm of achieving reason
Is the all-patrician Will!”
Mr. Blood must manage to re-write the last two lines; but the contrast of the two securities, his and the rationalist’s, is plain enough. The rationalist sees safe conditions. But Mr. Blood’s revelation, whatever the conditions be, helps him to stand ready for a life among them. In this, his attitude seems to resemble that of Nietzsche’s amor fati! “Simply,” he writes to me, “we do not know. But when we say we do not know, we are not to say it weakly and meekly202, but with confidence and content. . . . Knowledge is and must ever be secondary, a witness rather than a principal, or a ‘principle’! — in the case. Therefore mysticism for me!”
“Reason,” he prints elsewhere, “is but an item in the duplex potency203 of the mystery, and behind the proudest consciousness that ever reigned204, Reason and Wonder blushed face to face. The legend sinks to burlesque205 if in that great argument which antedates206 man and his mutterings, Lucifer had not a fighting chance . . . .
“It is given to the writer and to others for whom he is permitted to speak — and we are grateful that it is the custom of gentlemen to believe one another — that the highest thought is not a milk-and-water equation of so much reason and so much result —‘no school sum to be cast up.’ We have realized the highest divine thought of itself, and there is in it as much of wonder as of certainty; inevitable, and solitary207 and safe in one sense, but queer and cactus-like no less in another sense, it appeals unutterably to experience alone.
“There are sadness and disenchantment for the novice208 in these inferences, as if the keynote of the universe were low, but experience will approve them. Certainty is the root of despair. The inevitable stales, while doubt and hope are sisters. Not unfortunately the universe is wild — game flavored as a hawk’s wing. Nature is miracle all. She knows no laws; the same returns not, save to bring the different. The slow round of the engraver’s lathe209 gains but the breadth of a hair, but the difference is distributed back over the whole curve, never an instant true — ever not quite.”
“Ever not quite!”— this seems to wring210 the very last panting word out of rationalistic philosophy’s mouth. It is fit to be pluralism’s heraldic device. There is no complete generalization211, no total point of view, no all-pervasive unity212, but everywhere some residual213 resistance to verbalization, formulation, and discursification, some genius of reality that escapes from the pressure of the logical finger, that says “hands off,” and claims its privacy, and means to be left to its own life. In every moment of immediate experience is somewhat absolutely original and novel. “We are the first that ever burst into this silent sea.” Philosophy must pass from words, that reproduce but ancient elements, to life itself, that gives the integrally new. The “inexplicable,” the “mystery,” as what the intellect, with its claim to reason out reality, thinks that it is in duty bound to resolve, and the resolution of which Blood’s revelation would eliminate from the sphere of our duties, remains; but it remains as something to be met and dealt with by faculties214 more akin32 to our activities and heroisms and willingnesses, than to our logical powers. This is the anesthetic215 insight, according to our author. Let my last word, then, speaking in the name of intellectual philosophy, be his word. —“There is no conclusion. What has concluded, that we might conclude in regard to it? There are no fortunes to be told, and there is no advice to be given. — Farewell!”
The End
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1
ignoble
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| adj.不光彩的，卑鄙的；可耻的 | |
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2
irresistible
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| adj.非常诱人的，无法拒绝的，无法抗拒的 | |
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3
enjoyment
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| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
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4
philosophic
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| adj.哲学的，贤明的 | |
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5
exquisitely
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| adv.精致地；强烈地；剧烈地；异常地 | |
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6
titillated
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| v.使觉得痒( titillate的过去式和过去分词 )；逗引；激发；使高兴 | |
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muses
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| v.沉思，冥想( muse的第三人称单数 )；沉思自语说（某事） | |
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situated
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| adj.坐落在...的，处于某种境地的 | |
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spurts
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| 短暂而突然的活动或努力( spurt的名词复数 )； 突然奋起 | |
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tracts
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| 大片土地( tract的名词复数 )； 地带； （体内的）道； （尤指宣扬宗教、伦理或政治的）短文 | |
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11
publicity
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| n.众所周知，闻名；宣传，广告 | |
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12
herald
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| vt.预示...的来临，预告，宣布，欢迎 | |
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13
degenerate
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| v.退步，堕落；adj.退步的，堕落的；n.堕落者 | |
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14
lamented
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| adj.被哀悼的，令人遗憾的v.（为…）哀悼，痛哭，悲伤( lament的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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15
speculative
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| adj.思索性的，暝想性的，推理的 | |
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16
maiden
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| n.少女，处女；adj.未婚的，纯洁的，无经验的 | |
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17
privately
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| adv.以私人的身份，悄悄地，私下地 | |
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18
weird
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| adj.古怪的，离奇的；怪诞的，神秘而可怕的 | |
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albeit
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| conj.即使；纵使；虽然 | |
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20
metaphoric
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| adj. 使用隐喻的；比喻的；比喻意义的 | |
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21
wrought
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| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
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22
criticise
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| v.批评，评论；非难 | |
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23
utterance
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| n.用言语表达，话语，言语 | |
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24
defiance
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| n.挑战，挑衅，蔑视，违抗 | |
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25
radically
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| ad.根本地，本质地 | |
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26
cowering
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| v.畏缩，抖缩( cower的现在分词 ) | |
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27
corroboration
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| n.进一步的证实，进一步的证据 | |
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28
distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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29
consecutive
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| adj.连续的，联贯的，始终一贯的 | |
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30
aphoristic
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| 警句（似）的，格言（似）的 | |
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31
poetic
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| adj.富有诗意的，有诗人气质的，善于抒情的 | |
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32
akin
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| adj.同族的，类似的 | |
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33
pro
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| n.赞成，赞成的意见，赞成者 | |
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34
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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35
straightforward
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| adj.正直的，坦率的；易懂的，简单的 | |
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36
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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37
eddy
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| n.漩涡，涡流 | |
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38
rotary
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| adj.(运动等)旋转的；轮转的；转动的 | |
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39
swirl
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| v.(使)打漩，(使)涡卷；n.漩涡，螺旋形 | |
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40
mentality
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| n.心理，思想，脑力 | |
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41
rotational
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| adj.回转的，轮流的 | |
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42
authentic
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| a.真的，真正的；可靠的，可信的，有根据的 | |
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43
pervaded
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| v.遍及，弥漫( pervade的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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44
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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45
vacancy
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| n.（旅馆的）空位，空房，（职务的）空缺 | |
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46
rebound
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| v.弹回；n.弹回，跳回 | |
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47
paradox
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| n.似乎矛盾却正确的说法；自相矛盾的人(物) | |
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48
ingenuity
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| n.别出心裁；善于发明创造 | |
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49
immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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50
mediate
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| vi.调解，斡旋；vt.经调解解决；经斡旋促成 | |
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51
calamitous
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| adj.灾难的，悲惨的；多灾多难；惨重 | |
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52
demonstration
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| n.表明，示范，论证，示威 | |
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53
opposition
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| n.反对，敌对 | |
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54
wondrous
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| adj.令人惊奇的，奇妙的；adv.惊人地；异乎寻常地；令人惊叹地 | |
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55
simile
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| n.直喻，明喻 | |
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56
engraver
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| n.雕刻师，雕工 | |
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57
labor
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| n.劳动，努力，工作，劳工；分娩；vi.劳动，努力，苦干；vt.详细分析；麻烦 | |
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58
entity
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| n.实体，独立存在体，实际存在物 | |
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59
affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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60
intrusive
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| adj.打搅的；侵扰的 | |
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61
negation
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| n.否定；否认 | |
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62
sensuous
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| adj.激发美感的；感官的，感觉上的 | |
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63
negated
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| v.取消( negate的过去式和过去分词 )；使无效；否定；否认 | |
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64
abreast
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| adv.并排地；跟上(时代)的步伐，与…并进地 | |
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65
precipitate
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| adj.突如其来的；vt.使突然发生；n.沉淀物 | |
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66
stationary
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| adj.固定的，静止不动的 | |
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67
apparition
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| n.幽灵，神奇的现象 | |
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68
random
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| adj.随机的；任意的；n.偶然的(或随便的)行动 | |
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69
thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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70
entities
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| 实体对像； 实体，独立存在体，实际存在物( entity的名词复数 ) | |
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71
subjective
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| a.主观(上)的，个人的 | |
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72
unlimited
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| adj.无限的，不受控制的，无条件的 | |
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73
logic
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| n.逻辑(学)；逻辑性 | |
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logician
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| n.逻辑学家 | |
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75
efface
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| v.擦掉，抹去 | |
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76
conjecture
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| n./v.推测，猜测 | |
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77
inevitable
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| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
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78
drowsy
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| adj.昏昏欲睡的，令人发困的 | |
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79
vibrant
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| adj.震颤的，响亮的，充满活力的，精力充沛的，(色彩)鲜明的 | |
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80
orphan
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| n.孤儿；adj.无父母的 | |
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81
contingent
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| adj.视条件而定的；n.一组，代表团，分遣队 | |
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82
contingently
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| 偶发地，临时地 | |
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83
vacuity
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| n.(想象力等)贫乏，无聊，空白 | |
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84
originality
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| n.创造力，独创性；新颖 | |
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85
repose
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| v.(使)休息；n.安息 | |
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86
necessitate
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| v.使成为必要，需要 | |
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87
afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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88
depressed
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| adj.沮丧的，抑郁的，不景气的，萧条的 | |
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consolation
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| n.安慰，慰问 | |
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90
pretensions
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| 自称( pretension的名词复数 )； 自命不凡； 要求； 权力 | |
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91
momentary
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| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
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92
scowl
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| vi.(at)生气地皱眉，沉下脸，怒视；n.怒容 | |
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93
bowels
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| n.肠，内脏，内部；肠( bowel的名词复数 )；内部，最深处 | |
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94
outweigh
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| vt.比...更重，...更重要 | |
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crass
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| adj.愚钝的，粗糙的；彻底的 | |
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96
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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98
components
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| （机器、设备等的）构成要素，零件，成分； 成分( component的名词复数 )； [物理化学]组分； [数学]分量； （混合物的）组成部分 | |
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indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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100
convertible
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| adj.可改变的，可交换，同意义的；n.有活动摺篷的汽车 | |
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101
remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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102
utterances
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| n.发声( utterance的名词复数 )；说话方式；语调；言论 | |
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103
profundity
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| n.渊博；深奥，深刻 | |
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104
philistine
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| n.庸俗的人；adj.市侩的，庸俗的 | |
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105
metes
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| v.（对某人）施以，给予（处罚等）( mete的第三人称单数 ) | |
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106
bounty
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| n.慷慨的赠予物，奖金；慷慨，大方；施与 | |
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107
blessing
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| n.祈神赐福；祷告；祝福，祝愿 | |
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108
debit
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| n.借方，借项，记人借方的款项 | |
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109
wither
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| vt.使凋谢，使衰退，(用眼神气势等)使畏缩；vi.枯萎，衰退，消亡 | |
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110
tact
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| n.机敏，圆滑，得体 | |
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111
everlasting
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| adj.永恒的，持久的，无止境的 | |
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112
essentially
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| adv.本质上，实质上，基本上 | |
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113
rim
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| n.(圆物的)边，轮缘；边界 | |
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114
revolving
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| adj.旋转的，轮转式的；循环的v.（使）旋转( revolve的现在分词 )；细想 | |
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115
castigated
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| v.严厉责骂、批评或惩罚（某人）( castigate的过去式 ) | |
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116
dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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117
inverting
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| v.使倒置，使反转( invert的现在分词 ) | |
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118
interpretation
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| n.解释，说明，描述；艺术处理 | |
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119
exegetic
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| adj.评释的，解经的 | |
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120
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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121
alluded
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| 提及，暗指( allude的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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122
fatigued
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| adj. 疲乏的 | |
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123
sustenance
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| n.食物，粮食；生活资料；生计 | |
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124
piecemeal
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| adj.零碎的；n.片，块；adv.逐渐地；v.弄成碎块 | |
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125
fangs
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| n.（尤指狗和狼的）长而尖的牙( fang的名词复数 )；（蛇的）毒牙；罐座 | |
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126
yearned
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| 渴望，切盼，向往( yearn的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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127
prey
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| n.被掠食者，牺牲者，掠食；v.捕食，掠夺，折磨 | |
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128
lair
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| n.野兽的巢穴；躲藏处 | |
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129
solitude
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| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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130
crouch
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| v.蹲伏，蜷缩，低头弯腰；n.蹲伏 | |
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131
wilderness
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| n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等，荒漠 | |
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132
arena
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| n.竞技场，运动场所；竞争场所，舞台 | |
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133
pennants
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| n.校旗( pennant的名词复数 )；锦标旗；长三角旗；信号旗 | |
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134
isles
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| 岛( isle的名词复数 ) | |
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135
jaws
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| n.口部；嘴 | |
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136
wont
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| adj.习惯于；v.习惯；n.习惯 | |
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137
vindictive
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| adj.有报仇心的，怀恨的，惩罚的 | |
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138
alpine
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| adj.高山的；n.高山植物 | |
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139
avalanches
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| n.雪崩( avalanche的名词复数 ) | |
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140
recoil
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| vi.退却，退缩，畏缩 | |
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141
blistered
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| adj.水疮状的，泡状的v.（使）起水泡( blister的过去式和过去分词 )；（使表皮等）涨破，爆裂 | |
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142
preyed
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| v.掠食( prey的过去式和过去分词 )；掠食；折磨；（人）靠欺诈为生 | |
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143
outlaw
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| n.歹徒，亡命之徒；vt.宣布…为不合法 | |
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144
luring
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| 吸引，引诱（lure的现在分词形式） | |
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145
stupor
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| v.昏迷；不省人事 | |
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146
imposing
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| adj.使人难忘的，壮丽的，堂皇的，雄伟的 | |
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147
primordial
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| adj.原始的；最初的 | |
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148
partially
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| adv.部分地，从某些方面讲 | |
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149
formulate
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| v.用公式表示；规划；设计；系统地阐述 | |
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150
consolatory
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| adj.慰问的，可藉慰的 | |
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151
astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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152
homely
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| adj.家常的，简朴的；不漂亮的 | |
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153
majestic
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| adj.雄伟的，壮丽的，庄严的，威严的，崇高的 | |
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154
aggravated
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| 使恶化( aggravate的过去式和过去分词 )； 使更严重； 激怒； 使恼火 | |
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155
sanity
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| n.心智健全，神智正常，判断正确 | |
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156
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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157
triumphant
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| adj.胜利的，成功的；狂欢的，喜悦的 | |
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158
sanguine
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| adj.充满希望的，乐观的，血红色的 | |
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159
tenor
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| n.男高音（歌手），次中音（乐器），要旨，大意 | |
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160
appalling
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| adj.骇人听闻的，令人震惊的，可怕的 | |
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161
serenity
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| n.宁静，沉着，晴朗 | |
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162
majesty
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| n.雄伟，壮丽，庄严，威严；最高权威，王权 | |
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163
supremacy
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| n.至上；至高权力 | |
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164
secular
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| n.牧师，凡人；adj.世俗的，现世的，不朽的 | |
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165
initiation
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| n.开始 | |
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166
spurning
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| v.一脚踢开，拒绝接受( spurn的现在分词 ) | |
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167
gull
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| n.鸥；受骗的人；v.欺诈 | |
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168
sane
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| adj.心智健全的，神志清醒的，明智的，稳健的 | |
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169
postulates
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| v.假定，假设( postulate的第三人称单数 ) | |
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170
invoice
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| vt.开发票；n.发票，装货清单 | |
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171
shafts
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| n.轴( shaft的名词复数 )；（箭、高尔夫球棒等的）杆；通风井；一阵（疼痛、害怕等） | |
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172
plausible
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| adj.似真实的，似乎有理的，似乎可信的 | |
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173
verge
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| n.边，边缘；v.接近，濒临 | |
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174
dangling
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| 悬吊着( dangle的现在分词 )； 摆动不定； 用某事物诱惑…； 吊胃口 | |
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175
nonentity
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| n.无足轻重的人 | |
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176
strenuous
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| adj.奋发的，使劲的；紧张的；热烈的，狂热的 | |
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177
fiat
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| n.命令，法令，批准；vt.批准，颁布 | |
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178
axis
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| n.轴，轴线，中心线；坐标轴，基准线 | |
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179
obsequious
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| adj.谄媚的，奉承的，顺从的 | |
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180
meridians
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| n.子午圈( meridian的名词复数 )；子午线；顶点；（权力，成就等的）全盛时期 | |
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181
latitudes
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| 纬度 | |
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182
hymnic
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| 颂唱 | |
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183
disseminated
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| 散布，传播( disseminate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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184
consecutively
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| adv.连续地 | |
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185
spire
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| n.(教堂)尖顶，尖塔，高点 | |
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186
converging
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| adj.收敛[缩]的，会聚的，趋同的v.（线条、运动的物体等）会于一点( converge的现在分词 )；（趋于）相似或相同；人或车辆汇集；聚集 | |
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187
eternity
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| n.不朽，来世；永恒，无穷 | |
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188
climax
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| n.顶点；高潮；v.(使)达到顶点 | |
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189
splendors
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| n.华丽( splendor的名词复数 )；壮丽；光辉；显赫 | |
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190
strata
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| n.地层（复数）；社会阶层 | |
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191
sublime
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| adj.崇高的，伟大的；极度的，不顾后果的 | |
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192
ultimatum
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| n.最后通牒 | |
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193
poise
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| vt./vi. 平衡，保持平衡；n.泰然自若，自信 | |
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194
covets
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| v.贪求，觊觎( covet的第三人称单数 ) | |
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195
brook
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| n.小河，溪；v.忍受，容让 | |
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196
supreme
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| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
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197
martyrs
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| n.martyr的复数形式；烈士( martyr的名词复数 )；殉道者；殉教者；乞怜者（向人诉苦以博取同情） | |
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198
droop
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| v.低垂，下垂；凋萎，萎靡 | |
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199
bower
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| n.凉亭，树荫下凉快之处；闺房；v.荫蔽 | |
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200
stifle
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| vt.使窒息；闷死；扼杀；抑止，阻止 | |
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201
pandering
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| v.迎合（他人的低级趣味或淫欲）( pander的现在分词 )；纵容某人；迁就某事物 | |
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202
meekly
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| adv.温顺地，逆来顺受地 | |
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203
potency
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| n. 效力，潜能 | |
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204
reigned
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| vi.当政，统治（reign的过去式形式） | |
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205
burlesque
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| v.嘲弄，戏仿；n.嘲弄，取笑，滑稽模仿 | |
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206
antedates
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| v.（在历史上）比…为早( antedate的第三人称单数 )；先于；早于；（在信、支票等上）填写比实际日期早的日期 | |
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207
solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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208
novice
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| adj.新手的，生手的 | |
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209
lathe
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| n.车床，陶器，镟床 | |
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210
wring
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| n.扭绞；v.拧，绞出，扭 | |
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211
generalization
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| n.普遍性，一般性，概括 | |
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212
unity
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| n.团结，联合，统一；和睦，协调 | |
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213
residual
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| adj.复播复映追加时间；存留下来的，剩余的 | |
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214
faculties
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| n.能力( faculty的名词复数 )；全体教职员；技巧；院 | |
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215
anesthetic
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| n.麻醉剂，麻药；adj.麻醉的，失去知觉的 | |
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