[T]wofold vision is a frequent if not inseparable
concomitant of Skepticism. Nor can we say that this combination of
thorough search with caution is needless in the domain of religious
speculation. We must remember that there are questions so closely
allied with man's highest interests that for that reason alone no
assertion respecting them, no matter what its nature, is likely to be
accepted as final by a thoughtful mind. The questions, e.g. of man's
origin and destiny, the origin of the universe, &c. are continually
recurring problems which like uneasy ghosts refuse to be laid. In such
cases of inherent difficulty the assertion of a dogmatic judgment by
means of a creed imparts but little definitive assurance. The assertion
may be provisional and imperfect — possibly the outcome of an inferior
state of knowledge — but the problems themselves are eternal. Assent
may be yielded as a matter of faith, but the question as an object of
demonstration may not be a whit nearer solution. No sooner are the
words spoken, the dogma avouched, than the after-process of reflection
sets in. Thinkers of this kind treat their creeds like a ruminating
animal treats its food. It is again masticated and once more swallowed,
perhaps both processes being more than once repeated, before final
deglutition and assimilation take place, if indeed they ever do. So on
the heels of creeds and dogmas pronouncing authoritatively on all the
great matters of human concernment, treads, if not doubt, yet
inquisitiveness and curiosity, an eagerness to scan what is beyond
human vision.
Nor again does this Skeptical retrospection necessarily imply a
disbelief of the dogmas to which it is directed; it may even coexist
with an undoubting conviction of their truth. Just as we find men who
evince the utmost resolution in all the practical matters of life, but
whose determinations are followed by misgiving and a kind of
theoretical uncertainty, so in speculation the assertion of an
undoubted deliberately formed opinion may be accompanied or followed by
after-criticism, which is no more than the spontaneous discharge of
intellectual energy. Guicciardini, e.g. an essentially 'double-sighted'
man, tells us that all his most important actions, even when performed
with the utmost deliberation, were invariably followed by a sort of
repentance and retrospective criticism. The attitude of such men to
asserted truth seems to be of this kind. Knowing by experience the
infinite possibilities that beset all declared truth, they are apt to
say of certain convictions, 'I believe this and will continue to
believe it,' and yet suppose the other should be the truth. The reason
is that in all subjects in which pros and cons are nearly balanced the
deliberate adoption of one alternative does not annihilate the grounds
of the other. The uncertainty banished from the subject still continues
to exist in the object. Perhaps the discarded alternative will present
itself to the consciousness in a more winning guise than before. It may
appeal ad misericordiam, as a rejected conclusion when the grounds of
such rejection were admittedly not overpowering. Thus the native hue of
conviction as well as 'resolution' may be 'sicklied o'er with the pale
cast of thought,' and, if I may be allowed a further paraphrase, it may
happen that
Determinations of great pith and moment,
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the outward semblance of belief.
A singular feature in some minds of this class is that their doubt is
frequently caused not by a defect but by an excess of demonstration.
They are repelled by what seems to them an abnormal and unnatural
amount of proof. They are dazed and half blinded by the glare of
sunshine. Men of this type are met in every department of thought where
elaborate ratiocination and recondite speculation are as a rule
necessary precursors to the formation of conviction. I have known, e.g.
men in my own profession who invariably regard with suspicion a
diagnosis in which all the conditions are unmistakably plain and
obvious. They instinctively ask, May there not be some hidden cause,
some obscure but most important symptom, that I have overlooked? The
problem seems too easy, the conclusion too glaringly obvious, to be
acceptable. We observe the same characteristic in lawyers, detectives,
and others conversant with criminal procedure, and accustomed to
disentangle long and intricate chains of evidence. Present to a man of
this character a case of extreme simplicity, in which every part of the
evidence is marked by undeniable cogency, and he is immediately
offended. It is too clear and unmistakable to be natural. He does not
perceive the obscure intimations, the indirect hints, on the
elucidation of which he especially prides himself. With the cessation
of perplexity ceases also his personal interest. Such men seem to value
truth not by its plainness but by its obscurity, just as hieroglyphic
and similar inscriptions are estimated by the difficulty of their
decipherment. ...
The energizing principle in such characters is in the inverse ratio of their reflective power. Profound meditation on what is simple, obvious, and direct has an obscuring and distrustful effect. No doubt the tendency is much more common in speculation than in action. The directness of a belief or conviction, while it equally deters him who thinks 'too precisely on the event,' has not that imperative, urgent character that an obvious duty presents. There is more scope for delay and reiterated consideration; in other words, for the indulgence of the thinker's favourite passion.
