It is now seen that they blend either in the present or
the past insensibly into one another, much as Mr. Herbert Spencer shows
us that geology and astronomy blend into one another, {265} and cannot be
classified except by cutting Gordian knots in a way which none but plain
sensible people can tolerate. Strictly speaking, there is only one
place, one time, one action, and one individual or thing; of this thing
or individual each one of us is a part. It is perplexing, but it is
philosophy; and modern philosophy, like modern music, is nothing if it is
not perplexing.
A simple verification of the autumnal character of rhubarb may, at first
sight, appear to be found in Covent Garden Market, where we can actually
see the rhubarb towards the end of October. But this way of looking at
the matter argues a fatal ineptitude for the pursuit of true philosophy.
It would be "the most serious error" to regard the rhubarb that will
appear in Covent Garden Market next October as belonging to the autumn
then supposed to be current. Practically, no doubt, it does so, but
theoretically it must be considered as the first-fruits of the autumn (if
any) of the following year, which begins before the preceding summer (or,
perhaps, more strictly, the preceding summer but one--and hence, but any
number), has well ended. Whether this, however, is so or no, the rhubarb
can be seen in Covent Garden, and I am afraid it must be admitted that to
the philosophically minded there lurks within it a theory of evolution,
and even Pantheism, as surely as Theism was lurking in Bishop Berkeley's
tar-water.
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