In a previous article I considered Aristotle's view of God as final cause and its relation to the philosophy of Plato; and at the end of the article I remarked on the affinity of both doctrines with that of Spinoza. The present paper is concerned with Spinoza's doctrine of God as it is related to his conception of causality and seeks, inter alia, to show that his explicit rejection of final causes does not prevent his philosophy from having in it something like the true principle of final causation. In each section I first quote the chief relevant definitions or propositions in Spinoza's Ethics, and then state what seems needful in the way of interpretation or comment.

The essence of Wordsworth's creed appears, at first glance, to be simple and unambiguous: if we train the eye and ear to become receptive to the influence of natural objects, we come in time to receive “authentic tidings of invisible things,” intuitive knowledge of a Spirit which informs both Nature and the mind of man. This Spirit is a source of spiritual power; communion with it brings serenity and joy. But for all the apparent simplicity of this creed, we are soon forced to ask difficult questions about it. For example, how, precisely, are we to conceive of this universal Spirit? It is “a motion and a spirit” which informs all things; but what else is it? If it can elevate the thoughts of man, is it itself possessed of moral attributes? Is it, for instance, a Spirit of Love? In order to understand more precisely how Wordsworth believed the Spirit, particularly as it manifested itself in the works of Nature, could influence and shape the mind of man, it will be necessary to turn chiefly to The Prelude and, by reference to it, to endeavour to answer the following questions:

(1) What, besides motion and infinitude, did Wordsworth consider the properties of the Universal Spirit to be?

(2) How did he believe man acquires knowledge of it? And

(3) In what precise sense did he maintain that Nature can educate man morally?

All quotations from The Prelude, unless otherwise stated, will be drawn from the 1805–6 version of the poem.

The aim of this article is to show that there are two distinct ethical theories in the writings of Bishop Butler. This is something that his critics do not seem to have realized. One or two of them have seen that the Dissertation on Virtue contains ideas which do not harmonize very well with those of the Rolls Sermons, but no one has made a detailed study of the differences. It has been usual to dismiss them with the remark that Butler is an inconsistent writer and we should not worry too much over details.

It may sometimes be useful in philosophy to state a method of argument in very simple and even over-simplified terms; it may at a certain stage be useful to ignore for the moment the details and difficulties of particular philosophical arguments, and to try to state simply what is commonly assumed in a variety of different and even opposing arguments.

Metaphysics as a human enterprise is for ever called upon to vindicate its claim to be entitled “knowledge.” Sometimes the challenge is issued in the name of irritated common sense. Sometimes metaphysics is relegated into insignificance by a supercilious estheticism. Sometimes metaphysics is excommunicated for daring to trespass on the holy domain of religion. Here its death sentence is pronounced by an all-embracing scepticism, and there by the confident faith in the universal adequacy and exclusive validity of the methods of science. The attacks on metaphysics throughout the ages have been so numerous and so severe that one would expect the victim to have expired long ago. Yet the inextinguishable will-to-live exhibited by metaphysics has been as remarkable a phenomenon as the perennial tenacity of her would-be executioners. And although the bells have been tolled many times for metaphysics, she is still able to announce with Mark Twain that the rumours of her demise have been slightly exaggerated. In the long run, history seems to reveal a singular indocility with respect to the arguments of the enemies of metaphysics, and as Gilson has pointed out, one of the lessons to be derived from the study of the history of philosophy is that metaphysics always buries its undertakers.