I will assume, on account of reasons previously given, that when we speak of matter in motion we do not at all know what it is that moves, nor do we know at all what it is that we mean by motion. Therefore if, as unknown quantities, we call matter a and motion b, all we are entitled to affirm is that a + b = z, where z is a known quantity, or mind. Obversely stated, we may say that the known quantity z is capable of being resolved into the unknown a + b. But, inasmuch as both a and b are unknown, we may simplify matters by regarding their sum as a single unknown quantity x, which we take to be substantially identical with its obverse aspect known as z.

Here, then, are our data. The theory of Monism teaches that what we perceive as matter in motion, x, is the obverse of what we know as mind, z. What, then, do we know of z? In the first place, we well know that this is the only entity with which we are acquainted, so to speak, at first hand; all our knowledge of a (which is the only other knowledge we possess) is possible only in so far as we are able to translate it into terms of z. In the next place, we know that z is itself an entity of the most enormous complexity. Standing as a symbol of the whole range of individual subjectivity,. it may be said to constitute for each individual the symbol of his own personality-or the sum total of his conscious life. Now each individual knows by direct knowledge that his conscious life is a matter, as I have said, of enormous complexity, in which numberless ingredients of feeling, thought, and volition are combined in numberless ways. Therefore the symbol z may be considered as the sum of innumerable constituent parts, grouped inter se in numberless systems of more or less complexity.

From these considerations we arrive at the following conclusions. The theory of Monism teaches that all z is ; but it does not, therefore, necessarily teach that all x is z. Nevertheless, it does

teach that if all x is not z, this must be because x is z, plus something more than z, as a little thought will be sufficient to show. Thus, the four annexed diagrams exhaust the logical possibilities of any case, where the question is as to the inclusion or exclusion of one quantity by another. In Fig. 1 the two quantities are coincident; in Fig. 2 the one is wholly included by the other; in Fig. 3 it is partially included; and in Fig. 4 wholly excluded. Now in the present case, and upon the data supplied, the logical possibilities are exhausted by Figs. 1 and 2. For, upon these data, Figs. 3 and 4 obviously represent logical impossibilities; no part of Mind can, according to these data, stand outside the limits of Matter and Motion. Therefore, if the Ego is not coincident with the Non-ego (or if all z is not z, as in Fig. 1), this can only be because the Ego is less extensive than the Non-ego (or because x is z plus something more than z, as in Fig. 2).

Of these two logical possibilities Idealism, in its most extreme form, may adopt the first. For Idealism in this form may hold

that apart from the Ego there is no external world; that outside of z there is no x; that the only esse is the percipi. But, as very few persons nowadays are prepared to go the length of seriously maintaining that in actual fact there is no external world save in so far as this is perceived by the individual mind, I need not wait to consider this possibility. We are thus practically shut up to a consideration of the possibility marked 2.

The theory of Monism, then, teaches that x is z plus something more than z; and therefore it becomes a matter of great moment to consider the probable nature of the overplus. For it obviously does not follow that because x is greater than z in a logical sense, therefore must be greater than z in a psychological sense. Save upon the theory of Idealism (with which Monism is not specially concerned) the amount (whatever it may be) wherein is greater than 2, may not present any psychological signification at all. We may find that the surface of our globe is considerably larger than that of the dry land, and yet it may not follow that the mental-life to be met with in the sea is psychologically superior to that which occurs on dry land. Therefore, if in the diagram 2 we represent by comparative shading degrees of psychological excellence, it is evident that the theory of Monism must entertain the three following possibilities. It makes no difference what the comparative

areas of x and z may be, or whether x be uniformly shaded throughout its extent. All we have so far to notice is that the fact of logical inclusion does not necessarily carry with it the implication of psychological superiority.

Next we must notice that besides our own subjectivities, we have cognizance of being surrounded by many other inferred subjectivities more or less like in kind (i.e., other human minds); and also yet many other inferred subjectivities more or less unlike, but all inferior (i.e., the minds of lower animals, young children, and idiots). Following Clifford, I will call these inferred subjectivities by the name of ejects, and assign to them the symbol y. Thus, in the following discussion, x = the objective world, y = the ejective world, and z = subjective world. Now, the theory of Monism supposes that x, y, and z are all alike in kind, but present no definite teaching as to how far they may differ in degree. We may, however, at once allow that between the psychological value of z and that of y there is a wide difference of degree; and also that, while the value of z is a fixed quantity, that of y varies greatly in the different parts of the area y. Our scheme, therefore, will now adopt this form

But the important question remains how we ought to shade x. According to Clifford, this ought scarcely to be shaded at all, while according to theologians (and theists generally) it ought to be shaded so much more deeply than either y or z, that the joint representation in one diagram would only be possible by choosing for the shading of x a colour different from that employed for y and z, and assigning to that colour a representative value higher than that, assigned to the other in the ratio of one to infinity. It will be my object to estimate the relative probability of these rival estimates of the psychological value of x.

Starting from z as our centre, we know that this is an isolated system of subjectivity, and hence we infer that all y is composed of analogous systems, resembling one another as to their isolation, and differing only in their degrees of psychological value. Now this, translated into terms of x (or into terms of objectivity), means that z is an isolated system of matter in motion, and that the same has to be said of all the constituent parts of y. In other words, both subjectivity and ejectivity are only known under the condition of being isolated from objectivity; which, obversely considered, means that the matter in motion here concerned is temporarily separated off from the rest of the objective world, in such wise that it forms a distinct system of its own. If any part of the objective world rudely forces its way within the machinery of that system, it is at the risk of disarranging the machinery and stopping its workas is the case when a bullet enters the brain. Such converse as the brain normally holds with the external world, is held through the appointed channels of the senses, whereby appropriate causation is supplied to keep the otherwise isolated system at work. We know, from physiological evidence, that when such external causation is withheld, the isolated system ceases to work; therefore, the isolation, although complete under one point of view, under another point of view is incomplete. It is complete only in the sense in which the isolation of a machine is complete-i.e., it is in itself a working system, yet its working is ultimately dependent upon causation supplied from without in certain appropriate ways. This truth is likewise testified to on the obverse aspect of psychology. For analysis shows that all our mental processes (however complex they may be internally) are ultimately dependent on impressions of the external world gained through the senses. Whether regarded objectively or subjectively, therefore, we find that it is the business of the isolated system to elaborate, by its internal processes, the raw materials which are supplied to it from without. Seeing, then, that the isolation of the system is thus only partial, we may best apply to it the term circumscribed. Such partial isolation or circumscription of matter in motion-so that it shall in itself constitute a little working

microcosm-appears to be the first condition to the being of a subjective personality. Why, then, does not the working of a machine

present a subjective side?

Our answer to this question is to be found in the following considerations. We are going upon the hypothesis that all mind is matter in motion, and that all matter in motion is mind-or, as Clifford phrased it, that all the external world is composed of mindstuff. No matter how lightly we may shade x, we are assuming that it must be shaded, and not left perfectly white. Now, both mind and matter in motion admit of degrees: first as to quantity, next as to velocity, and lastly as to complexity. But the degrees of matter in motion are found, in point of observable fact, not to correspond with those of mind, save in the last particular of complexity, where there is unquestionably an evident correspondence. Therefore it is that a machine, although conforming to the prime condition of subjectivity in being a circumscribed system of matter in motion, nevertheless does not attain to subjectivity: the x does not rise to z because the internal processes of x are not sufficiently intricate, or their intricacy is not of the appropriate kind. From which it follows that although, as I have said, all matter in motion is mind, merely as matter in motion (or irrespective of the kinds and degrees of both) it may not necessarily be mind in the elaborated form of consciousness: it may only be the raw material of mind— or, as Clifford called it, mind-stuff. Thus, although all conscious volition is matter in motion, it does not follow that all matter in motion is conscious volition. Which serves to restate the question as to how far it is probable, or improbable, that all matter in motion is conscious volition-i.e., how deeply we ought to shade x.

Well, the first thing to be considered in answering this question is that, according to the theory of Monism, we know that it is within the range of possibility for matter in motion to reach a level of intricacy which shall yield conscious volition, and even self-conscious thought of an extremely high order of development. Therefore, the only question is as to whether it is possible, or in any way probable, that matter in motion as occurring in a resembles, in point of intricacy, matter in motion as occurring in z. Professor Clifford perceived that this is the core of the question, and staked the whole answer to it on an extremely simple issue. He said that unless we can show in the disposition of heavenly bodies some morphological resemblance to the structure of a human brain, we are precluded from rationally entertaining any probability that self-conscious volition belongs to the universe. Obviously, this way of presenting the case is so grossly illogical that even the exigencies of popular exposition cannot be held to justify the presentation. For aught that we can know to the contrary, not merely the highly specialized