國
立 政 治 大 學
‧
N a tio na
l C h engchi U ni ve rs it y
the people, while the noble scientist searches the world, meditates upon the theory of the universe, and instructs the people in God’s true knowledge.
III. More than a Literary Man…: Teufelsdrockh and Science A. The Whewellian Scientist and the Carlylean Scientist
During Carlyle’s composition of Sartor, the term “scientist” in reality did not then exist. The term, “scientist,” usually adopted to denote a certain group of
professionals who specialize in investigating natural matter, had not yet been created until Whewell’s coinage in the Quarterly Review for March 1834 (Ross 9).41 On its appearance, the term was not generally accepted but instead was seriously criticized by most learned scholars, including Michael Faraday (1791-1867) and Thomas Huxley (1825-95). It was not until the end of the nineteenth century and the early twentieth century that the term, scientist, was gradually recognized and considered to be a standard term to indicate the man of science (Ross 10-32). Before the
popularization of “scientist,” most of the “scientists” preferred to be called “the men of science” or identified as a specialist such as “geologist,” “chemist,”
“mathematician,” or “botanist” (Meadows 2; Ross 2-12). “The man of science” thus was more commonly used and was a general term to cover both specialists and amateurs interested in or expert at any field of natural philosophy during the nineteenth century.
Not yet a legitimated term in common usage, but in its formative stage,
“scientist” was muddled with diversified controversies over the characteristics of the
41 The term, scientist, first appeared in Whewell’s review of Mrs. Somerville’s book On the Connexion of the Physical Sciences in the Quarterly Review for March 1834 Vol. 51, pp. 58-61 (Ross 9). In 1840, Whewell again suggested the usage of the term, scientist, in his Philosophy of the Inductive Sciences: “We need very much a name to describe a cultivator of science in general. I should incline to call him a Scientist. Thus we might say, that as an Artist is a Musician, Painter, or Poet, a Scientist is a Mathematician, Physicist, or Naturalist” (qtd. Ross 10). Both Carlyle and Whewell were in the period in which there was an increasing consciousness of the necessary division of professions and disciplines.
‧ 國
立 政 治 大 學
‧
N a tio na
l C h engchi U ni ve rs it y
man working for an indefinite scope of “science” during Carlyle’s composition of Sartor. In regard to the discourses concerning the shaping of a scientist and the scope of science, generally there were two schools, empiricism and idealism. The empiricist school, also termed Baconianism, valued the utility and application of science and thus expected scientists to be good at observation and collection. The idealist school, termed as Newtonism, however, valued more the morals and ethos of science and thus assumed scientists to be not only intellectually gifted, but also morally good.42 As stated by Foucault, the proper name of an author “…serves to neutralize the
contradictions that may emerge in a series of texts” (1991: 204). I assume that Carlyle, as the proper name of Sartor, implies his contemporary “contradictions” of the
conflict between the Baconian and the Newtonian modes of thought. That is to say, if every text is an exhibition of the multiple voices confronting, conflicting, and
compromising, 1) Sartor the text should be a textual museum to display the 1820s and 1830s arguments over the discipline of the scientist and the methodology of scientific study between the two schools, and 2) Teufelsdrockh the character should be the discursive site to reflect Carlyle’s philosophic pondering over what an ideal scientist should be.
During the 1820s and the 1830s, Carlyle was not the only person to worry about the discipline of a man of science and the epistemology of a scientific study. In reality, Whewell was the most significant figure as a philosopher of science during Carlyle’s early years, advocating the proper discipline of the man of science and the moral necessity of the philosophy of science. Though we are taught that modern science originated from the seventeenth century, it was during the Nineteenth Century that,
42 In the early nineteenth century, from the end of the eighteenth century to the 1830s, the main stream concerning science and the scientist inclined to the idealist school. During the 1830s and the 1840s, the debates between the two schools became apparent and turned vehement. It was after J.S. Mill’s revision of “Benthem” in 1859, also the year of Darwin’s publication of Origin, that the scientists of the
empiricist school gradually became the majority (Yeo 1993: 180-85, 188-89). In Carlyle’s composition of Sartor, it was obviously based on the dominance of the idealist school.
‧ 國
立 政 治 大 學
‧
N a tio na
l C h engchi U ni ve rs it y
first, “scientists became professionals with a significant role in society” (Meadows 1) and, second, science was seen to be important in education, in industry, as well as in government policy (Meadows 1; Yeo 2001: 65-88). Before the mid nineteenth century, the scope, methodology, discipline, publication, popularization, and education
concerning science were still uncertain, but was controversial and disputable. The uncertainty of science made the delimitation of science as a new discipline
philosophical and debatable, because it was related to the method of training, the endowed duty, and the social responsibility of a scientific man. Foreseeing a new profession to come, Whewell was the philosopher who was most enthusiastic over upgrading the instruction of science at university in the early nineteenth century.
Gifted in mathematics and astronomy, and an expert in the theory of tides, Whewell however was “concerned in defining and elaborating the bounds of science… and to articulate the norms and practices of good science” (Ruse 8-9). A professor of moral philosophy at Trinity College, Cambridge, Whewell gave a great deal of thought as to how to formulate science as an independent study and how to train a man of science as a moral specialist. He spent much of his research considering the philosophy of science and the scientist, attempting to define the borderlines of the new field of science and the new vocation of the scientist in their early stages of formation. History of the Inductive Sciences (1837) and Philosophy of the Inductive Sciences (1840)43 were major achievements with regard to his philosophy of good science and the good scientist in higher education. Simply put, Whewell’s ideal science is “a combination of a priori concepts or ideas applied to empirical discoveries and generalizations” (9), and his ideal scientist is a “whole man” (Yeo 1993: 129) of “the union of intellectual and moral excellence” (132).
43 Though publishing his History of the Inductive Science and Philosophy of the Inductive Sciences in 1837 and 1840, Whewell in reality had already expressed most of his philosophy of science in his early writings in the Bridgewater Treatises during the 1820s.
‧ 國
立 政 治 大 學
‧
N a tio na
l C h engchi U ni ve rs it y
In order to realize Whewell’s concepts concerning science and the scientist, it is necessary to have a glimpse of the early nineteenth century debates on the sphere and the methodology of science, as well as the discipline and the character of the man of science. In the early decades of the nineteenth century, Baconianism and
Newtonianism were the two main discourses in reference to the issues of science and the man of science. In terms of the debates with regard to the concepts associated with the two issues during the 1820s and the 1830s, the subjects principally focused on six interrelated aspects: the position of the scientific community, the methodology of scientific research, the ethics of science, the discipline of the scientist, the morals of the scientist, and the image of the scientist.
Before 1831, the Royal Society44 was the most significant scientific
community associated with the important men of science. Due to its severe elective system based on elitism, it allowed only a few Fellows to join the Society each year, the Fellows of the Royal Society were normally masters or great minds such as Newton. As for the amateurs interested in science or some medium level working in science, there was no possibility of becoming a member. With the prevalence of science and the increase in the number of scientific researchers in the early nineteenth century however, science gradually became a profession and the number of
professional scientists multiplied. Many intellectuals therefore urged the need for greater access to the Royal Society, but they received a cold shoulder and a refusal. In 1831, due to his disillusionment with the elitism and a dissatisfaction with the
conservatism in the Royal Society, William Vernon Harcourt (1789-1871) then
founded the British Association of the Advancement of Science (the BA), to welcome any amateur practitioners of science and to contribute to their research, efforts donates
44 The full name of Royal Society is Royal Society of London for the Improvement of Natural Knowledge. It is a learned society, founded in 1660 and still exists in the present day.
‧
(Russell 168-92). Different from the Royal Society, which gave weight to the
gentleman intellectual and highly respected the talented genius, the BA welcomed all kinds of enthusiastic amateurs interested in science. The membership was not strict, but egalitarian and democratic.
If the attitude towards the role of scientists in the BA was amateurism or
institutionalism, it was, by contrast, professionalism, elitistism and individualistism in regard of the role of scientists in the Royal Society (Yeo 1993: 129). For the leaders of amateurism such as Harcourt, the “institutional mode of producing knowledge” by
“many smaller minds” (126) might be able to promote more of the advancement of science, while for the supporters of professionalism as seen in the Royal Society, such as Whewell and John Herschel (1792-1871),45 the spontaneous freedom of the
thought of the great individual was the major force behind scientific advancement and social progress (129).
Though never directly mentioning the two conflicting discourses, Carlyle however hinted at his preference for the professional Newtonianism compared with the institutional Baconianism. The abandonment of his study for the ministry within the institution of the university suggested his conservative inclination towards the Newtonian great mind of the Royal Society. His admiration for Newton also showed his preference for the elitism. In Sartor, Carlyle ridiculed the institutional mode of learning in the college represented as a large “mechanical structure” full of “Statistics of Imposture” (SR 84). Under the institutional system, the professors and students of
45 John Herschel, trained in mathematics at Cambridge, was an astronomical observer in the Southern hemisphere and also a pioneer contributor to the science of photography (Meadows 5). With regard to the issues of the scope of science, John Herschel published Preliminary Discourse on the Study of Natural Philosophy in 1831, which was the first book aimed at taking scientific method into consideration, to explain the role of science to the public, and to advance the role of science in education (Yeo 2001: 65). Coincidently, Herschel’s publication of Preliminary was in the same year as the formation of British Association (the BA). Since around 1831 that has been a scientific revolution in the study of the history and philosophy of science (Yeo 2001: 66; Fisch and Schaffer 1988: vi) with more and more personal publications and public organizations related to the methodology,
epistemology, and the pedagogy of science.
‧ 國
立 政 治 大 學
‧
N a tio na
l C h engchi U ni ve rs it y
the institution were not the respectable speculators of philosophy, but “Musical and Literary Dilettanti” (96).
Due to the different attitudes with regard to the treatment of scientists, the cultivation of a professional scientist in the institutionalism varied from that in the intellectualism. For the empiricist of institutionalism such as Harcourt of the BA, “the gradual accumulation of empirical observation was presented as the guarantee of sound progress in the science; theory and hypothesis… were said to be dangerous”
(Yeo 2001: 265). To cultivate a scientist, the empiricist school thus emphasized “…the need for massive collections of data” (265). Whether a man gifted in theoretical contemplation or not was never the consideration in the institutional system, since the lack of any previous scientific training was never a disadvantage and would not be biased either (265). In the institutional system, the scientific progress therefore depended more “upon collective effort, rather than upon the achievements of gifted individuals” (265). Since the empiricist scientists generally presumed “a cooperative pursuit embracing all classes and talents” (264), they were proud of their democracy that embraced all participants.
Emphasizing collection and observation, the empirical scientists were trained to mind merely the visible world and to slight the invisible. They were always a
well-disciplined group of observers who operated mechanically in order to discover and collect evidences in the physical world (e.g. in the studies of geology, botany, zoology, astronomy, etc.). From the discovered facts, the empiricist then inferred a common rule among the first-hand proofs and developed a scientific principle. Due to this methodology, the institutional empiricist preferred fact to theory
epistemologically: they believed that only the visible and the provable facts were the truth and were true knowledge. As for the invisible, the inexperienced, as well as the unproved in the physical world, these were not the subject of scientific inquiry (Yeo
‧ 國
立 政 治 大 學
‧
N a tio na
l C h engchi U ni ve rs it y
1993: 176-85).
In Sartor, it was not “science” itself but this empiricist school of science that Carlyle in reality abhorred, since this school trusted only the visible and believed merely “the Outward; …what cannot be investigated and understood mechanically, cannot be investigated and understood at all” (ST 105). The dependence on the visible physical world in the empiricist school caused the man of science to neglect his intrinsic intuition and imagination, simultaneously blocking his religious faith and morality. Instead of rejecting science per se, Carlyle in fact advocated the need for the ideal science, that is, the true science primarily concerning the invisible and the spiritual as found in the Newtonian intellectualism.
For the scientist of the intellectualism, it was the invisible world, instead of the visible, that was the aim of science; it was the theory, instead of fact, that was the object of natural philosophy; and it was speculation, instead of collection or observation, that was the methodology of scientific inquiry. In the cultivation of a philosophical scientist, the training in how to collect facts was, of course, necessary;
the investigation of the visible world however was not the most important aspect. The key to the true science still lay in the scientist’s belief in an a priori axiom in any mode of scientific research. The discipline of a Newtonian scientist hence gave weight to generating the highest principle of the universe by cultivating a faith in God. Based on this religious faith, the scientist of the intellectualism generally believed that all the evidence of design and order in the material world, was originally generated by the Author of the universe (Yeo 1993: 120) and, thus, the purpose of science should aim to describe the laws inscribed in the Creation of the intelligent Mind. Due to the belief in an a priori Intelligent Mind, and a conscious Deity, the Newtonian scientist thus was always the most faithful and moral researcher.
As well as Whewell, Carlyle believed that the great man of science should be
‧ 國
立 政 治 大 學
‧
N a tio na
l C h engchi U ni ve rs it y
the most faithful and moral intellectual. In “Characteristic,” Carlyle showed his admiration for the ideal intellectual who always kept God in mind via a “healthy understanding” (CH 71). For Carlyle, differing from the institutional way of thinking that disdained the invisible world by physical observations, “the end of [the healthy]
Understanding is not to prove and find reasons, but to know and believe” (Ch 71), that is, to know the invisible and to believe in God. In both the Whewellian and the
Carlylean perceptions of an ideal scientist, not only was intellect the necessary quality, but also morality and faith were the guaranteed requirements.
In the early nineteenth century, it was generally believed that “human moral and intellectual capacities were closely related” (Yeo 1993: 187) since both capacities were endowed by Divinity. It was hence generally agreed that the scientist talented enough to exercise his intellectual capacity was the specific chosen person to possess divinely-given endowments for carrying greater responsibilities for revealing God’s demonstration in the physical world. The scientific inquiries hence were not only an intellectual practice but also a moral duty, because the practice of science was likewise a “proper use of Divinely given intellectual capacities” (187).
In Whewell’s terms, the great scientific mind to exercise its imagination and intuition to perceive the invisible and intangible “theory” of the universe, was the inductive thinker, a faithful interpreter of nature (Yeo 1993: 116-44, 176-205). For the Whewellian inductive scientist, the most significant process in scientific research was speculation. Through a long course of pondering, a big theory was supposedly
produced to expound the divine principle and purpose of Creation. Rather than
looking for petty evidence or collecting materials as the empiricist did in the Baconian school, methodologically, the inductive scientist, usually an erudite and philosophical man, wandered and pondered, speculating on an a priori axiom of God’s universal law.
The purpose of science for the inductive mind was the intellectualism aimed at
‧ 國
立 政 治 大 學
‧
N a tio na
l C h engchi U ni ve rs it y
revealing God and proving His doctrines.
However, the empirical scientist, the deductive reasoning mind in Whewell’s terms, undertook scientific research by discovering evidence, explaining the
superficial laws, and proposing the possible applications. Deductive reasoning
diverged from inductive thinking, primarily in terms of their beliefs and their habit of mind. There were ruptures between religion and science in the deductive mind.
Whewell commented that the scientist of the empirical school generally “displayed a lack of religious conviction” and thus “none of these was a great discoverer” (Yeo 1993: 121). Not holding a faith in God, and noticing the intrinsic value of knowledge while researching, the amateur scientist of the institutionalism school of thought merely took the power and utility of the products of science to heart instead. Practical and utilitarian, they looked for the instant result and the immediate application. The purpose of science, for the deductive mind, hence was not looking for the internal worth of the visible substance and for revealing the true knowledge left in the physical world. Rather, the deductive empiricists were calculative and indifferent practitioners, seeking merely superficial interest and tangible benefits.
The ideal inductive thinker and the empiricist deductive thinker explored different types of scientific inquiry for different purposes. Carlyle’s ideal scientist or Whewell’s inductive thinking mind speculated on the concealed truth that already existed here and now in God’s Creation; the empirical scientist or the deductive reasoning mind however tended to “[generate] new truth” (Yeo 1993:122) or to multiply new inferences for utilitarian operations. The inductive thinker meditated philosophically on the petty subjects which seemed to be “self-evident and certain a priori” such as “the laws of motion and gravitation” (122) and pondered spiritually the theology and teleology of the discovered evidence. Yet the deductive mind enthusiastically looked for new discoveries, painstakingly generalized the
‧ 國
立 政 治 大 學
‧
N a tio na
l C h engchi U ni ve rs it y
experiments, superficially explained the law, and acquisitively expected practical utilization. For the inductive mind, it was speculation, instead of collection that was the method of science, and it was religion, instead of utility, that was the purpose of science.
Teufelsdrockh, in Carlyle’s portrait, is typically a Whewellian inductive thinker.
Rather than heedlessly “[soaring] over” (SR 2) and overlooking the “quite natural and spontaneous” (2) objects in the physical world, Teufelsdrockh “[looks] around a little”
and “[sees] what is passing under our very eyes” (2). Instead of lightly taking for granted the already-existent, Teufelsdrockh regards the most ordinary matter, Clothes, as “an accident” for scientific study, for it contains not only the facts, history, and
and “[sees] what is passing under our very eyes” (2). Instead of lightly taking for granted the already-existent, Teufelsdrockh regards the most ordinary matter, Clothes, as “an accident” for scientific study, for it contains not only the facts, history, and