The words which I have chosen as the title of this paper are the expression for a process which has been asserted to be one that occurs alike in our mental and in our moral life. It has so happened that in certain of my own inquiries I have applied this process; and the details may be of interest. But I must warn the reader not to expect any wide views on life, or far-reaching thoughts, or any of the warmth of human affairs. What I think about is Space; and it is the application of the principle of casting out the self in attaining a knowledge of Space about which I have something to say. And, firstly, as a bit of absolute human experience is never without value, but that which we make up is often so, I may as well cast the fear of ridicule aside and enable the reader to take in, in a few lines, the exact commencement of my inquiry. The beginning of it was this. I gradually came to find that I had no knowledge worth calling by that name, and that I had never thoroughly understood anything which I had heard. I will not go into the matter further; simply this was what I found, and at a time when I had finished the years set apart for acquiring knowledge, and was far removed from contact with learned men. I could not take up my education again, At length I came to find that the only thing I could know was of this kind. If, for instance, there were several people in a room, I could not know them themselves, for they were too infinitely complicated for my mind to grasp; but I could know if they were at right or left hand of one another, close together, or far apart. And the same of, to take another instance, botanical specimens in a book. I could not grasp the specimens—each was too infinitely complicated, and each part too infinitely complex—but I could tell which specimen was next which. Accordingly, being desirous to learn something thoroughly, and since, in the arrangement of any different objects, there was such a lot of ignorance introduced by the objects being different—each bringing in its own ignorance and feeling of bewilderment—I determined to learn an arrangement of a number of objects as much alike as possible. Accordingly I took a number of cubes, which were as simple objects as I could get, arranged them in a large block, and proceeded to learn how they were placed with regard to each other. In order to learn them I gave each of them a name. The name meant the particular cube in the particular position. Thus, taking any three names, I could say, about the three cubes denoted, how they were placed with regard Now in this way I got what I conceived to be knowledge. It was of no use or beauty apparently, but I had no reason to use it or to show it. It is about this bit of knowledge that I want to speak now—a block of cubes, and the cubes are known each one where it is. Sometimes I have been tempted to call this absolute knowledge, but have been reminded that I did not know the cube itself. Against this I have argued. But in argument we say many things which we do not understand, and my conclusion is, on the whole, that the objection is well founded. Still, if not knowledge absolute, the knowledge of this block approaches more nearly to knowledge absolute than any other with which I am acquainted, because each cube is the same as its neighbour, and instead of an arrangement of all sorts of diverse ignorances we have only one kind of ignorance—that of the cube. Each of the cubes was an inch each way, and I learnt a cubic yard of them. That is to say, when the name of any cube was said, I could tell at once those which it lay next to; and if a set of names were said, I could tell at once what shape composed of cubes was denoted. There were 216 primary names, and these, taken in pairs, were enough to name the cubic yard. For the practical purpose of this paper, however, it will suffice if the reader will imagine a block of twenty-seven cubes, forming a larger cube, each cube being denoted by a name (see Diagram I. below). Then it is evident that two names mean a certain arrangement consisting of two cubes in definite places with regard to one another—three names denote three cubes, and so on. Thus, looking at the cube with the figure 1 upon it, this numeral will serve for the name of the cube, and similarly the number written on every cube will serve for its name. So if I say cubes 1 and 2, I mean the two which lie next to each other, as shown in the diagram; and the numbers 1, 4, 7, denote three cubes standing above each other. If I say cubes 1 and 10, I mean the first cube and one behind it hidden by it in the diagram. Now this is the bit of knowledge on which I propose to demonstrate the process of casting out the self. It is not a high form of knowledge, but it is a bit of knowledge with as little ignorance in it as we can have; and just as it is permitted a worm or reptile to live and breathe, so on this rudimentary form of knowledge we may be able to demonstrate the functions of the mind. And first of all, when I had learnt the cubes, I It may seem as if, when the cubes were known in an upright position, they would be easily imagined in an inverted position. But practice shows that this is very It may seem as if it were a dubious way of getting rid of gravity, or up and down, just to reverse the action of it. But this way is the only way, for we, I have found, cannot conceive it away; we have to conceive it acting every way, then, affecting each view impartially, it affects none more than another, and is practically eliminated. The cube had not only to be turned upside down, but also laid on each of its sides and then learnt. There were a considerable number of positions, twenty-four in number, which had to be brought close to the mind, so that the lie of each cube, relative to its neighbours and the whole block, was a matter of immediate apprehension in each of the positions. If a single cube be taken and moved about, it will be found that there are twenty-four positions in which it can be put by turning it, keeping one point fixed, and letting each turning be a twist of a right angle. The whole block had to be turned into each of these positions and learnt in each. Thus the block of cubes seemed to be thoroughly known. At any rate, up and down was cast out. And we can now attach a definite meaning to the expression “casting out the self.” One’s own particular relation to any object, or group of objects, presents itself to us as qualities affecting those objects—influencing our feeling with regard to them, and making us perceive something in them which is not really there. Thus up and down is not really in the set of cubes. Now these qualities or apparent facts of the objects As soon as I had got rid of Up and Down out of the set of cubes I was struck by a curious fact. If in building up the block of cubes one goes to the left instead of to the right, keeping all other directions the same, a new cube is built up having a curious relation to the old cube. It is like the looking-glass image of the old cube. Every cube in the new block corresponds to every cube in the old block, but in the new figure it is as much to the left as before it was to the right. And any set of names in the block so put up gives a shape which is like the shape denoted by the same set of names in the old block, but which cannot be made to coincide with it, however turned about. It is the looking-glass image of the old shape. The one block was just like the other block, except that right was changed into left. Now, was it necessary to cast out right and left as had been done with up and down? or was right and left, as giving distinctions in the block and in shapes formed of cubes, to remain? It seemed as if right and left belonged more to me than to the set of cubes. And yet the right-handed set of cubes could not be made by moving about to coincide with the left-handed set of cubes. And this power of coincidence was the test which had convinced me of the self nature of “Up and Down.” Let Diagram I. represent a small block of cubes. It is itself in the form of a cube, and it contains 27 cubes. For purposes of reference we will give a number to each cube, and the number will denote the cube where it is. In the front slice are cubes numbered from 1 up to 9, in the second slice are cubes numbered from 10 to 18, and so on. Thus behind 1 is the cube 10. This cube and the cube 11 are hidden, but the cube 12 is shown in the perspective. Now in this block of cubes there is a part which is known and a part which is unknown. The part which is known is how they come or the arrangement of them. The part that is unknown is the cube itself, repetitions of which in different positions forms the block. The cube itself is unknown, because, being a piece of matter, it possesses endless qualities, each of which grows more incomprehensible the more we study it. It is also unknown in having in it a multitude of positions which are not known. The cube itself is, amongst other things, a vastly complicated arrangement of particles. Hence, putting all together, we are justified in calling the cube the unknown part; the arrangement, the known part. The single cube thus is unknown in two ways. It is unknown in respect to the qualities of hardness, density, chemical composition, &c. It is also unknown as a shape. If it really consisted of a certain number of parts, each of which was clear and comprehensible in itself, then we should know it if we grasped in our minds the relationship of all these parts. But there are no definite parts of which a cube can be said to be made up. We can suppose it divided into a number of exactly similar parts, and suppose that all are like one of these parts. But this part itself remains, and the problem remains just the same about this part as about the whole cube. Now there is a double perplexity: one about the nature of the matter, the other about the cube as to the arrangement of its parts. We will give up any question about the matter of which the cube is composed; to know anything about that is out of the question. But, supposing it to be of some kind of matter, it presents an inexhaustible number of positions. It can be divided again and again. Let us look at the block again, and for the moment We can also suppose the cubes away, and think merely of the places which they occupied. In this manner, by first thinking of the 27 cubes, and then simply by keeping the places of them in our minds, we get 27 positions, and in these positions we can suppose placed any small objects we choose. Each of these positions may be called a unit position, and we can form different arrangements of small objects by putting them in different ones of these positions. Now in all this we do not divide the cube up. We simply think of it as a whole—we think of it as a unit. Or if we take the room of the cube instead of the cube, and think of the place it occupies, which I call a position, we do not divide that position up. We take it, if I may use the expression, as a unit position. And without asking any question as to the nature of these positions, whether they are complicated ideas or not, we have a kind of knowledge of the whole block, in that it consists of this collection of 27 cubes, or of this set of 27 positions. Thus in a rough and ready manner there is something which we can take. If we do not inquire about one of the cubes itself, we are all right; that being granted we can know the block. But if we look into what each of these unit cubes, or what each of these unit positions is, we find quite an infinity opening before us. There is nothing definitely of which we can say that the whole unit cube is built up, and each of the positions has a perfectly endless number of positions in it, if we come to examine it closely. All that we can say is that our ignorance Having given up for the time any question as to the possible subdivisions of the cube, and looking on each cube as a unit position, we have 27 positions. These positions can be taken in different selections, and each selection is a shape. To know the block or set of positions means to form a clear idea of every shape, consisting of selections of positions, which can be formed out of the 27. But each of the cubes, 27 of which form the whole block, can be divided up. Each of these cubes contains a great many positions. There must, for instance, be positions in each cube for every one of its molecules. Thus it is evident that the cube supplies an inexhaustible number of positions to be learnt. I call the cube unknown in the sense that there are a great number of positions in it which are not clearly realized by the mind. By a very simple device it is possible to penetrate a little into the unknown part. The whole set of cubes forms a cube. Let us consider the small cube to be a model of the whole cube. Let us consider it as consisting of 27 parts, each related to the other as the 27 first This is the theory. The practical work consisted in learning the names denoting these smaller cubes in connection with their positions, so that, the names being said, the small cubes meant were present to the mind, and a set of names being said, the shape, consisting of a set of cubes in definite relations to each other, came vividly before one. A complete knowledge of the block of cubes would be a complete appreciation of all the possible shapes which selections of the cubes would form, and this I strove to attain. Here at length I found real knowledge, and after a time I was able to reduce the size of the unknown still further, and to obtain a solid mass of knowledge fairly well worked all through. And now it all seemed satisfactory enough. There was real knowledge in knowledge of the arrangement; and the material cube, which must be assumed, could be made smaller and smaller, it could be turned into knowledge, thus affording a prospect of obtaining endless knowledge. Thus I found the real home of my mind, the only knowledge I had ever had, and I hoped always to continue to add to it, and always to reduce the unknown in size. Presently, too, the forms of the outward world began to fall in with this knowledge; and as the mass of known cubes became larger in number, a group of them would fairly well represent a wall, a door, a house, a simple natural object such as a stone or a fruit. Yet amidst all this delight I became conscious, dimly enough, of a self-element in the knowledge of blocks. If, putting up the block of cubes, we go to the left instead of the right, but in all other respects build up in The ordinary block is shown over again in Diagram III. Diagram IV. is the new block. The new block is like a looking-glass image of the old block. It is just the same, but that left and right is reversed. Also, if we take selections of blocks we get figures which are just reversed. Thus 1, 4, 7, 8, in Block III., means a figure turned to the right; in Block IV. a figure turned to the left. Again, consider the two figures formed by selecting the cubes 1, 4, 7, 8, 17, from Diagrams III. and IV. respectively. We get two figures which are just like one another as arrangements, but which we cannot turn into one another by twisting. Considered as arrangements in themselves, these figures and these blocks seem to be identical, for the relationships of cube to cube which are present in the one are all present in the other. But considered as shapes they are not identical. For they will not coincide. The whole matter becomes much more clear if we consider the relationship between the individual cube used and the block which it forms. There are two starting-points, either of which we can adopt. We can start with the real material cube, or we can start with the act of arranging. When I speak of the real material cube I do not want to call attention to the kind of matter of which it is composed, or to the nature of matter, but to the fact that it is to be a real cube such as can be made, and which, if one edge or corner be marked, will retain that mark just where it is—a cube which is not a product of the imagination, but an object, with the properties of objects in general. Let us start with the real material cube. Let us take the cube shown in Diagram V., which is the model on a small scale of the Block III. The numbers in it show the small cubes of which we suppose it to be built up after the pattern of Block III. The numbers also serve to show the distinction of positions—that is, we can refer to the right-hand corner or edge, &c., by saying the numbers of the small cube which lies there. Now, using the cube of Diagram V. to build up the block in Diagram III. we get a perfectly orderly result, as shown in Diagram VII., and we can go to bigger and bigger blocks, or down to smaller and smaller ones without any hitch. But if we use the cube of Diagram V. to build up the block of Diagram IV., there is a disadjustment which can be discerned in Diagram VIII. Thus, when V. is used to build up III., the small cubes in V., 1, 4, 7, lie in same edge as the cubes 1, 4, 7, in the big Cube III. But when V. is used to build up IV., the small cubes 3, 6, 9, lie on the edge which is occupied by the cubes 1, 4, 7, in big Cube IV. Thus, if the same material cube is used, there is a disadjustment, and the figure IV. cannot be considered the same as the figure III. even as an arrangement, for the same parts of the cubes do not lie in an analogous manner. A certain corner of Cube V. is marked with the figure 7; this corner would be on the outside in Block III., but in building up Block IV. it would lie on the inside. It is somewhat difficult to express this fact, but if the real cubes are looked at it becomes perfectly obvious. Imagine the whole Block III. to be built up of a number of cubes, every one of which is alike. If the sides of these cubes be distinguished by any markings—if, for instance, the left-hand side is blue and the other sides are each of some special colour, then on building up the whole block the left-hand side of the whole block will be blue. If, now, the same cubes be taken, and the attempt be made to build up the looking-glass image of the block with them, it will be found that there will be a disadjustment. If the blue sides are made to go to the right, as they must, to form an image block, then some other sides will be in different places to what they should be in order to produce an image of the original block. Although considered as an arrangement of cubes the new block will be an image of the original block, still, looking at the individual cubes of which it is composed, it will be seen that the new block is not an exact image of the old block. If, however, we take the other starting-point, and, not assuming any fixed fundamental cube, look only at the act of arrangement, the two Blocks, III. and IV., are found to be identical in every internal relationship. For, taking the act of arrangement as the basis, if, when we have built up the Block IV., we look upon each of the cubes as an arrangement of the same kind as the whole, then the cube 1 in Diag. IV. is represented in Diag. VI. And it is evident that if Diag. IV. is built up out of cubes like Diag. VI., the small cubes, 1, 4, 7, lie in the same edge as the cubes 1, 4, 7, in Diag. IV. Thus it will be found for every relationship in Diag. III. there is an exactly similar relationship in Diag. IV. In this case if, for the sake of material illustration, we use marked cubes, it seems that we must not suppose each particular cube to have a fixed marking of its own, There is another manner of regarding the matter which may help to bring out the point at issue. If we suppose that we are putting up the cubes in one room while another person is putting up cubes in an adjoining room; if we can tell him what we are doing, using the words right and left, he will be able to put up a block exactly like ours. But if we do not allow ourselves to use the words right and left, but speak to the other person as if he were simply an intelligence without having the same kind of bodily organization as ourselves, we should find that, supposing he could put up the block of cubes, it would be a mere matter of chance whether he had put up the block as we had put it, or whether he had put it up in an image way. And the same with regard to any shape. We could tell him that the cubes should be put together, and we could tell him the relationship which they should have with regard to one another; but the figure he put up would just as likely be an image of our shape as not. And we could go on for ever building more and more complicated shapes and telling him to do the same, and no hitch or difficulty would come. But at the end all his shapes might be ours just reversed, as if seen in a mirror. And if, having put up the block, we coloured the sides of the cube we used as the fundamental cube, and told him how we had coloured it: if he coloured his and brought it to us, and we compared them, his would just as likely be the image of our cube, and not able to be turned into it. So that although, as arrangements, the structures we had put up were alike, still neither of us could use the other’s fundamental cube; and if we exchanged Now, are these blocks of cubes really the same? Are III. and IV. really the same in themselves, as all relationships in the one are to be found in the other? If so, the feeling on my part that they are different, and the inconceivability of their coinciding, must be due to some self-element which is mixed up with my apprehension of the cube. The Block IV. is like the Block III. in its known part—in its arrangement. It is unlike Block III. in its unknown part—the cube which must ultimately be supposed as the fundamental cube, by using which over and over again the whole is built up. Now, the properties of the unknown part—the little cube of matter which of some size or another, we must assume, are so mysterious that one does not feel any argument very safe which rests on it. Moreover, there is a very obvious consideration which reduces the importance of the part played by the material cube very considerably. It is possible to consider the Cube V., which is used to build up III., as the total of 27 cubes. But each of these cubes—the small cubes in Diag. V.—can be considered to be made up of 27 still smaller cubes. By going on in this way we can get our fundamental cube very small indeed. The difference between the Cubes III. and IV., in respect to this fundamental cube, will still remain. But omitting this difference they will be, considered as arrangements, identical. To state the matter over again. We start with a real cube, one inch each way, and build up the block in Diagram III. with it. If we try to build up the block in Diagram IV. with this same inch cube, we find that there is a disadjustment. But we are not obliged to have our fundamental cube one inch in size. We can take it as small as we like, and build up the block, using a greater number of such cubes. We can take it the twenty-seventh of the twenty-seventh of an inch cube; or, in fact, as small as ever we like. And if we take a very small cube as the fundamental one with which we build up the Block III., then, using this same fundamental cube to build up Block IV., we should find a disadjustment, although this disadjustment would only come in when we come down to the very minute cube, and studied its relationship to the whole Block IV. Thus, apparently, the Block IV. could never be built up consistently, using as its fundamental cube the fundamental cube out of Block III. But in saying this we have really made an assumption. It is obvious that Cubes V. and VI., just like Cubes III. and IV., considered as shapes made up of matter, are very different, and could not be shifted one on to the other. But all our laws and feelings about movements and possibilities are founded on the observation of objects having a certain degree of magnitude. But the fundamental cube, which we must assume, may be supposed to be of a degree of magnitude less than any known degree. In cubes of a certain size V. and VI. are different, and cannot be made to coincide. But we are absolutely unable to say anything about cubes beyond a certain degree of smallness. With cubes of a certain degree of minuteness, V. and VI. might be able to be made coincide. Thus, for instance, we feel as if we could divide a piece of matter on and on for ever. But chemists tell us that, after a certain number of divisions, the next It is obvious that, from our customary experience, we can assert absolutely nothing at all about the extremely minute or the extremely large. All reasoning which is founded on the likeness between the extremely small and the ordinary objects of our observation is absolutely valueless as telling us any truth. Of course, by saying this we have not got rid of the argument for the difference of III. and IV. But we have put the thing from the observation of which that argument is drawn out of the region of known things. We have put it into the hazy land of the extremely minute. Its argument is good, but it depends on its being of a certain size. We suppose it less than that size, and we can consider the subject without regard to its argument. The question then before me was, Is “Right and Left” to be cast out? And connected with this was the consideration of whether it was possible for extremely minute cubes to be “pulled through,” that is, to be treated somehow which would turn one like V. into one like VI. Now, if “right and left” was a self-element, it could be cast out; if it was a permanent distinction in the cubes themselves, it could not be cast out. The thing to do was evidently to try. The method was to learn the cubes over again, in a set of new positions. For every one of the ways in which they were learnt before, there was an inverted or pulled through way to be learnt. While I was engaged in this attempt another inquiry suddenly coincided with this, and explained it all. Much has been said about the fourth dimension of Now it is easy to make a set of simple objects such as these higher children would use. And it seemed a practical thing to do with regard to the conceivability or inconceivability of the fourth dimension to give the matter a fair trial, by going through those processes and those experiences which must be gone through by the beings in higher space to gain their acquaintance with it. When I say that it is easy to make a set of objects, such as the higher children use, I do not mean to say that they can be made completely in every part at once. But we can make the ends and sides of them, and we can look at the ends and sides of them as they appear to us in space, and we can make up exactly what sides come into space when the simple objects are twisted and moved. Just as a being living on a plane could tell about all the faces and edges of a cube or other simple solid figure by looking at what he could see when the cube was laid on his plane, and when it was twisted and laid down again; And the project seems less uninviting if we reflect on how complicated a matter the formation of our own conceptions of a solid are. What a lot of faces and edges a cube has! And, moreover, it must be remembered that we never touch or see a solid; we only see the surface and touch the surface. If we cut away the surface that we first saw or touched, we come on another surface, and so on. Now, of course, the surfaces of a solid are given to us by nature in their right connection and relation. Each of the edges of the cube, for instance, can be noticed and remarked without any difficulty, and they are all on the same bit of space, to be looked at one at the same time as another. But the sides, faces, and edges of a higher solid cannot be in our space all at once. They must come separately, be looked at one by one. Thus a being in a plane could not see the lower side and the front of a cube at once. He would first have to look at the lower side as the cube rested on his plane, then if the cube were turned over he would see the front, and the lower side would be gone. If he got the set of right appearances which a cube would present to him when, turning about in a systematic way, it came at intervals into his plane, and if, moreover, he fixed his mind on these appearances, he might at last, if it was in him, rise to the conception of a cube as we know it. Now, the parts by which a higher solid comes into our space are solids, and what we have to form is a set of solids coming and going in a systematic way, as the higher figure is moved about in a systematic way. This afforded a welcome exercise, for conceiving the Moreover, in trying to get the piece of ignorance—the necessary real cube—as small as possible, I had got the block which I knew to a somewhat fine state of division, and could, by picking out a particular set of cubes from the whole number, obtain a mental model of any shape I wanted. The whole block of cubes formed a kind of solid paper in which one could mentally put down any solid shape one wanted. And just as it is a great convenience to have a piece of paper for drawing figures one wants to think about, so it was a great convenience to have this solid paper. The subject, however, abounds in abysses for stupidity to fall into, and I had to clamber out of each of them; so it took me several years before I got quite on the right tack. Then it was easy enough: any one in a few weeks could learn to conceive four-dimensional figures. Not only is it easy, but there are abundant traces that we do it continually without being aware of it. I am sure if the loveliness of the work while one is doing it, and the simplicity and self-evident nature of the results when obtained, were generally known, it would be a favourite amusement. Now one of the first things that presented itself to my attention when I began to move the four-dimensional figures about was a fact which bore curious reference to my difficulty about the fundamental cube. If the reader remembers, it seemed to me as if the cube out of which the whole block of known cubes was built ought to be able to be inverted. That is to say, it seemed to me that there was a self-element present in my knowledge of the cubes. But in order to cast out that self-element the fundamental cube which lay at the basis of the whole block would have to be able to be inverted, or pulled through. Now I found that when I took a four-dimensional figure which came into space by a cube—that is, a figure which rested on space by a cube, or one of whose sides was a cube—when I took a figure of that sort up in the fourth dimension and twisted it round and brought it down again, this cube would sometimes be inverted or pulled through—although I had done nothing to it, but had simply twisted the whole figure round without disturbing the arrangement of its parts. Thus evidently to a higher child it would be no more difficult to invert or pull through a cube or a figure than it would be to me to twist one round. Hence it was obvious that right and left was really a self-element in my block of cubes. I being in our space was under a certain limitation, and that limitation made me feel as if a right-handed arrangement was different from a left-handed arrangement. A being who was not limited as I was would see that they were one and the same. Hence, in knowing the set of blocks it was necessary to cast out “right and left,” and the names had to be learnt over again in new positions. Thus it is evident that there are three expressions which may be considered in reference to a knowledge of a block of cubes as almost identical: “Casting out the self”—“Seeing as a higher child”—and thirdly, “Acquiring an intuitive knowledge of four-dimensional space.” Thus, taking the simplest and most obvious facts—the arrangement of a few cubes—we found that there was a known part and an unknown part; the known part corresponding to our act of putting, the unknown part the cube which, of some size or another, must be taken as given in the external world. Then there was obviously a self-element present in the Up and Down felt as in the It will be obvious to the reader that in these pages I have merely touched the surface of the subject. But the deeper matters which are contained in the knowledge of a block of cubes are difficult to express, and are so mixed up with the practical work, as far as I conceive them at present, that it is best to consider in some detail the applications to the world about us of those truths of which we have already got a clear apprehension from the block of cubes. Instead, then, of going on, let us conclude the present paper by going back, and taking a simple instance of the general truth that progress in the knowledge of a block of cubes is casting out the self. Let the reader turn to Diagram I. and make out the shape which the following numbers denote—namely, 1, 4, 5. If the following numbers be said, 18, 27, 26, it will be found that they denote the same shape, but in a different position. Now if the block of cubes be well known, these two sets of names, 1, 4, 5, and 18, 27, 26, ought to convey instantly to the mind the same idea. However quickly they are realized, it ought to be evident that they are the same shape. And a good deal of the practical work in learning a block of cubes consists in gaining this faculty of immediate apprehension. But when it is gained it is seen to consist much more of getting rid of an imperfection than in being any real advance. For if the two shapes are identical we need not ask ourselves how it is we see them as the same, but we have to ask ourselves what is the reason why we do not recognize their identity; and |