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THE JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
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THE JOURNAL
OF
PHILOSOPHY
EDITED BY
FREDERICK J. E. WOODBRIDGE
AND
WENDELL T. BUSH
VOLUME XIX
JANUARY DECEMBER, 1922
1922
6
p*cts or
TMC NIW f HA PRINTING COMPANY
LANOSTIM. PA.
VOL. XIX, No. 1. JANUARY 5, 1922
THE JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
PRAGMATISM AND THE NEW MATERIALISM
THE most striking and significant phenomenon in recent Ameri-
can philosophy and psychology has, manifestly, been an
extensive recrudescence of materialism. To or towards this out-
come have converged several theories diverse in name and, in part,
in the logical considerations which have given rise to them. The
tendency finds its most unequivocal expression in behaviorism, when-
ever behaviorism, as in the recent writings of Professor J. B. Wat-
son, abandons the modest status of a special subdivision of psycho-
biology, and sets itself up as or as a substitute for a general
psychological theory. To say that in the processes commonly known
as sensation, feeling and thought nothing whatever occurs, or need
be presupposed, except gross or microscopic movements of various
portions of the musculature of an organism, is obviously equivalent
to the reduction of the entire content and implications of experi-
ence to motions of matter and transfers of physical energy. In
many of the American forms of neo-realism a scarcely less thorough-
going materialism has been manifest, so far as the world of con-
crete existence is concerned ; though the tendency here has been
curiously conjoined with a revival of a species a very unplatonic
species of "Platonic realism." In most of our neo-realists, the
latter seems an essentially otiose addition to their doctrine. Uni-
versals are asserted to "subsist" merely; and though subsistence
is declared to be a status independent of consciousness, this inde-
pendence renders it only the more alien to nature and irrelevant
to experience. Since mere subsistents have neither date, nor place,
nor causal efficacy, they are pertinent to the phenomenal order only
in so far as they are embodied in particular existences ; and by the
neo-realist their embodiment is apparently construed in the literal
sense of the word. For him too the only entities existing in time
and in the causal nexus are physical masses, and if the two be
ultimately distinct physical energy.
American pragmatism has often manifested a disposition to
join forces with behaviorism and neo-realism in their campaign
against the belief in the reality of psychical entities; indeed, if
certain utterances of its spokesmen be considered separately apart
5
i THE JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
from certain other utterances which to the uninitiated appear
simply to contradict them no contemporary philosophical school
has given plainer expression to the materialistic doctrine. In
some recent papers in this JOURNAL* I cited several instances of
this ^nrt ; one of them it is pertinent to repeat here:
A careful inventory of our a**ets brings to light no such entities as those
which have been placed to our credit. We do not find body and object and con-
faeiousness, but only body and object. . . . The process of intelligence is some-
thing that goes on, not in our mind, but in things. . . . Even abstract ideas do
not compel the adoption of a peculiarly " spiritual " or " psychic " existence,
in the form of unanalyzable meanings.*
In the papers mentioned I attempted to show, among other
things, that this materialistic strain is incongruous with the most
characteristic and essential thesis of pragmatism, at least in its
later formulations. That thesis is to the effect that "intelligence"
is efficacious and "creative." By "intelligence" the pragmatist
appears to mean nothing mysterious or metaphysical; the word is
for him merely a name for a familiar type of experience, that,
namely, of practical reflection, of forming plans of action for deal-
ing with specific concrete situations. This process of reflection is,
he maintains, in certain cases a determinant of motions of matter,
i.e., of the movements of human bodies and of other masses with
which they physically interact. But upon the materialistic hypo-
thesis practical reflection itself is nothing but a motion of matter;
if "bodies and (physical) objects" are the only factors involved
in "intelligence," it should be possible to describe the phenome-
non called "planning" wholly in physical terms i.e., in terms of
masses actually existing, of positions actually occupied, of molar
or molecular movements actually occurring, at the time when the
planning is taking place. The laws of that class of physical proc-
esses called "practical judgments" may, of course, be unique, in-
capable of reduction to the laws of physics or chemistry; and
pragmatism declares that they are in fact thus unique and irredu-
cible. But the things whose behavior these laws describe must if
the pragmatist is to avoid psychophysical dualism consist solely
of real parts of the material world.
Now since "intelligence," in the pragmatist 's sense, is an ob-
servable and analyzable phenomenon, the question whether any
entities are involved in it which are not real parts of the material
world is a question of empirical fact, to be settled by analysis of
the specific type of experience under consideration. And in my
previous papers I sought to show that this question must be answered
i Vol. XVH, pp. 589-596 and 622-632, 1920.
* Professor B. H. Bode, in Creative Intelligence, pp. 254-5, 245.
PRAGMATISM AND THE NEW MATERIALISM 7
in the affirmative. A plan of action, as I pointed out, obviously
requires the presentation of both past and possible future states
or contents of some part of the material world. But a past or
possible future state of the material world is not, at the moment
at which it is represented in the experience of the planner, a part
of the real material world. The content of my memories or of my
expectations, as such, would find no place in any inventory of
then existing "bodies and objects" which would be drawn up
even by a perfected physical science. It is of the very essence of
the planning-experience that it is cognizant of and concerned with
things, or configurations of things, which have yet to be physically
realized, and are therefore not yet physically real. Thus in fixing
his attention especially upon "intelligence" in its practical aspect,
the pragmatist is brought face to face with that type of experience
in which the empirical presence of non-physical entities and proc-
esses is, perhaps, more plainly evident than in any other.
This fact, it may be remarked parenthetically, is the reason why
I have thought it useful to select pragmatism as the immediate
point of attack in a critical examination of the new materialism in
general. The pragmatists have rendered a service to philosophers
of all schools by directing attention to the significance of certain
undeniably real aspects of the cognitive experience, which happen
also to be the best possible touchstone for the determination of the
issue between those who assert and those who deny the existence
of psychical or immaterial entities. That issue has hitherto been
discussed mainly in connection with the problem of perception ;
with that problem, in fact, the neo-realists seem to have been some-
what obsessed. The believer in the presence of distinctively mental
factors in the cognitive situation has not failed to meet the issue
on this the favorite ground of his adversary. But in this part of
the field the controversy, if not logically indecisive, has at any
rate grown somewhat tedious and repetitious. There remains, mean-
while, a region of experience in which the dispute seems capable
of being brought more speedily to a decisive conclusion; and it is
with this region that the pragmatist is especially preoccupied. He
is primarily interested, not in the question how we can know an
external, coexistent object, but in the question how one moment
of experience can know and prepare for another moment. It is,
in short, to what I have elsewhere named intertemporal cognitions
that his analysis is devoted; it is by man's habit of looking before
and after that he is chiefly impressed. Now to look before and
after is as my previous papers pointed out to behold the physi-
cally non-existent; it is to possess as data in experience objects
8 THE JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
which can not be conceived t<> b> simultaneously present in the
material universe. Since, moreover, the pragmatist affirms the
potency of intelligence, that is to say, of this function of foresight
and recall, in the causation of (some) physical events, his phi-
losophy, if consistently worked out, should lead him to an inter-
action ist view upon the psychophysical problem.
Such, in brief, was the argument previously set forth. To that
argument Professor Bode has very courteously replied in an article
in tliis .lontNAL.' Certain phases, I will not say of pragmatism,
but of the opinions and doctrinal affinities of pragmatists, are
greatly illuminated by his paper, which is, moreover, manifestly
inspired by a genuinely philosophic desire to cooperate in an en-
deavor to promote a common understanding. Nevertheless such
are the difficulties of philosophical discussion! even this most
generous and fair-minded of critics has apparently altogether over-
looked the principal point of my argument; and the reasonings
which he presents appear to me to be not only inconclusive, but
almost wholly irrelevant to the particular issue upon which I had
hoped to focus attention. Yet they are apparently believed by
their author to controvert the conclusions I defended ; and it seems
needful, therefore, to examine carefully the chief considerations
which Professor Bode contributes to the discussion.
1. A great part of his reply is devoted to an explanation of what
the pragmatist means by "consciousness." He is not disposed
wholly to reject this term; he too is ready to formulate, in his
own way, a "differentia of the psychic" and a criterion "which
makes it possible to draw a sharp line between conscious and me-
chanical behavior." This, of course, is of much interest in itself;
but it has no pertinency to the reasons for affirming the existence
of "psychical" entities which were presented in my paper. To
say that for the instrumentalist "consciousness is identifiable with"
such and such a ' ' type of behavior, ' ' is equivalent to the two propo-
sitions (1) that by the word "consciousness" the instrumentalist
means the defined type of behavior; (2) that such a type of be-
havior is empirically discoverable. The first, being a verbal propo-
sition, requires no proof. The second is a proposition of fact and
therefore subject to verification. But its truth might be conceded
without the least logical detriment to the considerations which I
had advanced. For I have not questioned the pragmatist 's right
to define the word "consciousness" as he likes; I have not denied
that the "peculiar type of behavior" to which Professor Bode
prefers to apply that name is a fact of experience ; and I have not
VoL XVIII, 1921, pp. 10-17.
PRAGMATISM AND THE NEW MATERIALISM 9
maintained that this type of behavior affords evidence that "mental
entities," in my sense of the term, exist. What I have maintained
is that there is also found in human experience a phenomenon dif-
fering in certain important respects from that which Professor
Bode describes; and that this does afford evidence of the existence
of mental entities. This other sort of experience, exemplified in
planning and all forms of practical reflection, is what I had sup-
posed the pragmatist to mean by "intelligence"; but I am less
interested in ascertaining the pragmatic name for the thing than in
pointing out that the thing is a fact. Throughout most of his paper,
then, Professor Bode, instead of looking at the evidence offered
for this conclusion, which he ostensibly rejects, appears to fix his
gaze upon another object altogether. Let me show this in detail
by outlining more specifically the pragmatic account of "conscious-
ness," as set forth by him. The pragmatist observes that some
stimuli are of a "peculiar kind," i.e., have specific characteristics
which others lack. For example, a noise in some cases has, in ad-
dition to the "various properties or qualities that are appropriate
subject-matter for the physicist, a further trait or quality" of
which the physicist takes no cognizance. This further trait is, it
appears, an "elusive" one, difficult to express in words; but its
nature is indicated by such expressions as "an indescribable 'what-
is-it' quality," an "inherent incompleteness." When a noise pos-
sesses, besides its mere noisiness, this special and unique quality,
it "causes the individual concerned to cock his ear, to turn his eyes,
perhaps to step to the window in order to ascertain the meaning
of the noise." Stimuli (a term which is for Bode apparently
synonymous with complexes of sensible qualities) are, then, said
to be "conscious" if they have this peculiarity; and "conscious-
ness" is a name for the "function of a quality in giving direction
to behavior." The conscious stimulus, in other words, is differ-
entiated by its tendency "to set on foot activities which are di-
rected towards getting a better stimulus." The word "directed"
here, however, must not be understood to imply any representation
of the better stimulus as future ; for a reaction possesses the ' ' psychi-
cal ' ' character ' ' irrespective of any explicit reference to the future. ' '
There need be no actual anticipation, of the "conceptual" sort.
Any case of organic response which exhibits the phenomenon of
trial-and-error would apparently exemplify "conscious" behavior,
in the pragmatist 's sense; in fact I can not see that there is any
kind of actual response which would not correspond to the defini-
tion.
There are it may be observed incidentally some inconveni-
10 THE JOURNAL OP PHILOSOPHY
ences in using the words "psychical," "mental," etc., in this
manner. One of them is that "psychical" apparently does not ex-
clude "physical." If I understand Bode's language, a real physi-
cal object would also be a "psychical existence" whenever it "set
on foot activities directed towards getting a better stimulus." It
is also a somewhat confusing feature of this usage that the adjec-
tives "conscious," "psychical," etc., seem applicable both to
stimuli and to the bodily behavior which the stimuli evoke, though
it is difficult to see how they can be attached to both substantives
univocally.
This, however, is by the way. What I wish to point out is that
my argument rested entirely upon an analysis of the particular
kind of reaction in which there is an "explicit reference to the
future" in which actual foresight is an essential feature of the
experience. By transferring the adjective "psychical" to a kind
of reaction defined as lacking this feature, Professor Bode does
not answer that argument; he simply ignores it. Is it a fact that
explicit reference to the future sometimes occurs, that when we
form a plan of action unrealized possibilities are present as such
to our thought ? Or again, is it a fact that when we think of such
unrealized concrete possibilities we have present in thought objects
which can not be regarded as parts of the present content of the
material world? Only by answering the first of these questions in
the negative, or, if that were answered affirmatively, then by an-
swering the second in the negative, could Bode join issue with the
reasoning actually contained in the papers upon which he com-
ments. A radical behaviorist, I suppose, would answer one or the
other of these questions with an unequivocal negative. But it is
not clear from Professor Bode's article that he shares the behavior-
ist 's fine a priori contempt for the facts of experience.
2. There is, however, a further aspect of the pragmatist's con-
ception of "conscious behavior" which is not fully brought out in
the summary above given; and this we must now examine, since
it is this aspect chiefly which makes it clear "why instrumental ism
is so reluctant to bring in mental states or psychic existences."
(The latter expression is presumably here used in the sense defined
in my previous papers; for Professor Bode has just told us that
in another sense, pragmatism itself recognizes psychic existences.)
The argument, if I have understood it, rests upon a distinctive
thesis about the attributes of "objects." The pragmatist, it would
seem, holds that what are usually called the effects of a stimulus
upon an organism should properly be called "parts" of the stimu-
lus, or attributes of the object (for Bode apparently uses the two
PRAGMATISM AND THE NEW MATERIALISM 11
terms interchangeably). In the case of a noise which causes a dog
to cock his ear, the attribute of causing-ear-cocking, "by which the
present stimulus makes provision for its own successor," is des-
ignated in pragmatist terminology the "incompleteness" of the
present stimulus ; and this ' ' incompleteness is intrinsic to the stimu-
lus, or inherent in it"; in other words, it is "as much a part of
the noise as any of its other traits." Since the behavior resulting,
or capable of resulting, from a given stimulus is thus read back
into the stimulus itself, and since the stimulus in turn is identified
with physical objects (and, in the case of perception, apparently
with the physical object perceived), there results for the pragmatist
a radical revision of the conception of physical objects. "Tradi-
tional theory" has been wont to regard such an object as "charac-
terized by stark rigidity and close-clipped edges"; to the pragmat-
ist, on the contrary, it seems to be a soft and plastic entity with
boundaries so wide that almost anything might be found within
them. The notion of the "inherent properties of an object" is
thus so enlarged as to include either (Bode does not seem to me
to be clear here) all organic responses which the object's presence
ever evokes, or, at any rate, an inherent tendency to evoke what-
ever responses in fact occur when it is present. Physical objects
are consequently things which can control behavior directly, by-
virtue of their own nature and attributes ; and it therefore becomes-*
unnecessary to introduce mental entities in the explanation of be-
havior, .in man or other animals. ' ' The emphasis shifts inevitably
from mental states in the traditional sense to this peculiar type of
control as exercised by objects." 4 It is precisely because pragmat-
ism has become aware of "this distinctive character of the stimu-
lus" that it "can not afford to give countenance to entities or ex-
istences the chief purpose of which, " as it seems to Professor Bode,
is to obscure this character to "translate it into mechanical equiv-
alents. ' '
To judge of the pertinency of this reasoning it is needful to re-
call once more however wearisome the repetition the precise argu-
ment against which it is supposed to be directed. That argument,
it will be remembered, (a) dealt exclusively with the evidence for
the existence of non-physical entities to be found in a particular
phase of human experience, viz., in intelligent planning, involving
an explicit representation of things past and future; (&) used the
expressions "psychical" or "non-physical entity" in a specific and
clearly defined sense, viz., as meaning "an entity not assignable to
real space and to the complex of matter and forces recognized by
* Op. tit., p. 15; italics in original.
12 THE JOURNAL OP PHILOSOPHY
the physical sciences, at the moment at which the entity is actually
present in experience." The reasoning offered as the principal
reply to this argument (a) still wholly ignores the specific type of
experience to which the argument related. It offers, not an analy-
sis of anticipation and memory, but an analysis of sensory stimula-
tion. 1 ask the pragmatist about "intelligence," and am given a
description of responses for which no intelligence is requisite. I
ask what precisely it is that happens when an architect plans a
building, or when an engineer endeavors to analyze the causes of
the collapse of the St. Lawrence bridge several years ago; Pro-
fessor Bode replies by telling me what it is that happens when a
dog cocks his ear. As described, moreover, "conscious behavior"
is not distinguishable from the kind of phenomenon which occurs
when a phototropic plant is touched by a ray of light. In the case
of the plant also the initial stimulus "makes provision for its own
successor" and "sets on foot activities directed towards getting a
better stimulus." (6) With respect to the question, irrelevant to
my argument, with which Bode's reply is actually concerned, his
conclusion is reached by a series of partly explicit and partly
tacit alterations in the meanings of terms. He first includes the
adaptive motor-responses to a sensation among the "traits" of the
sense-datum itself; he next tacitly identifies the sense-datum ("the
noise as heard") with the "stimulus" (which in the ordinary u-<-
of terms means, in the case of audition, the air wave set up by
the vibration of an elastic body) ; he then identifies the stimulus
with the "object" presumably the object from which it proceeds,
e.g., an automobile-horn. By this process of freely substituting one
meaning for another, it is assuredly not difficult to prove that tho
dog's cocking his ear is merely an instance of "the control of be-
havior by objects." But the entire argument is of an essentially
verbal character; and the first two steps in it the identification
of responses with sense-data, and of sense-data with external
stimuli beg the only question to which the argument can be said
to be directed. For that question is whether sensory content is
totally identical with either the stimulus or the physical state of
the sensory nerves; and whether the stimulation passes over into
a motor response without the generation or interposition, any-
where in the process, of any factor which is not "physical" in the
ordinary sense, previously defined. That is a question of fact which
is hardly to be settled by the short and easy method of defining
physical objects ab initio as havinpr an inherent virtus excitatn'a
sufficient of itself to account for behavior.
What might at first be taken for a further distinct argument
PRAGMATISM AND THE NEW MATERIALISM 13
against psychophysical dualism and interactionism is suggested by
Professor Bode 's repeated remark that those doctrines imply a
"mechanistic" conception of behavior. "Unless we abandon the
category of interactionism we are back on the level of mechanistic
naturalism, from which the position of instrumentalism is intended
to provide a means of escape." But it is obvious that the adjec-
tive must here be used in some peculiar sense; for nothing is more
alien to "mechanistic naturalism," as that designation is usually
understood, than the doctrine that non-physical entities or proc-
esses can affect the movements of bodies. When, then, we seek to
determine precisely what Bode means by "mechanistic," we find
that the word apparently denotes any view which regards as in-
correct or insufficient the account of the ' ' distinctive nature of con-
scious behavior" given by the pragmatist. "Mechanical behavior,"
in short, is expressly antithetic to "conscious behavior," in the
pragmatist 's sense; and "conscious behavior" in his sense means,
as we have seen, behavior controlled by physical objects directly,
by virtue of their "inherent incompleteness" this last expression,
in turn, meaning a capacity to initiate in an organism (without the
intervention of any other factors) a series of adaptive responses.
In brief, the charge that psychological interactionism is "mechan-
istic" means, when translated, that that doctrine affirms the pres-
ence and efficacy of factors other than physical objects in at least
some modes of human behavior. The charge, in short, is that
interactionism is interactionism. There is here, therefore, no ar-
gument which seems to demand separate discussion.
3. After having, through nearly all of his article, vigorously
assailed the belief in mental or psychical entities (in my sense of
the terms), Professor Bode in his penultimate paragraph suddenly
and surprisingly utters a profession of faith in the creed which he
had seemed to be attacking. "We need not," he writes, "take
serious exception to Love joy's contention that concepts are 'mental
entities,' in the sense that they may be 'actually given . . . but
can not be regarded as forming a part, at the same moment, of the
complex of masses and forces, in a single public space, which con-
stitutes the world of physical science.' That concepts exist in
some form and that there is a discernible difference between them
and physical objects is an indubitable fact." These "concepts,"
moreover, are functional. "They function in much the same way
as physical objects;" they "control behavior." Here, it will be
observed, it is explicitly in the sense which I had given to "mental"
that Professor Bode grants the reality of mental entities. He adds,
it is true, that "the important issue is not whether concepts exist,
14 THE JOURNAL OP PHILOSOPHY
but whether the classification of them as 'mental' is to be made to
accord with the foregoing (i.e., the pragmatic) theory of conscious
behavior." This might be taken to mean that, after all, he regards
concepts as "mental" solely in the pragmatic sense, not in the
sense given in the definition which he quotes from my paper. But
to construe his meaning thus would be to imply that he denies in
one sentence what he had affirmed two sentences before; and no
such interpretation, happily, is necessary. For a " concept "-
e.g., a representation of a building yet to be erected may be
"mental" both in the sense expressed by my definition and in a
sense which includes at least the distinctive positive differentia
of the "psychical" in the pragmatic definition. A non-physical
factor in experience may and if it be efficacious, must function
like any other stimulus. The idea of the house to be built will
necessarily have what Bode calls an "unfinished quality;" it too
will be "directed towards the end of completing the present incom-
pleteness." But its possession of this character does not alter the
fact that, unlike other possible varieties of "psychical" stimuli in
the pragmatic meaning of the term it consists in a representation
of a future object, and is therefore "psychical" in another sense,
a sense which excludes it from the class of physical things, i.e., of
things belonging to the objective spatial system.
Professor Bode, then, though he has elsewhere represented the
psychical as merely a special variety of the physical, now seems to
tell us plainly (a) that there are two distinct classes of factors in
our experience, "physical objects" and "mental entities;" (&)
that both are efficacious in the causation of physical changes.
These two propositions taken together seem to constitute the plain-
est possible affirmation of psychophysical dualism and interaction-
ism as, I take it, those terms are commonly understood. Yet the
same passage concludes: "There is no ground for Lovejoy's conten-
tion that, if concepts are admitted to their legitimate place, it fol-
lows that, rightly constructed and consistently thought through, prag-
matism means interactionism. " Here I must confess myself baffled.
How this conclusion is to be reconciled with the admissions which
immediately precede it, I am unable to conjecture. I therefore
can not feel that Professor Bode has succeeded in making his posi-
tion, or that of pragmatists in general, unmistakably clear. After
careful study of his paper, I remain in some doubt whether he holds
that pragmatism implies materialism or not.
It still seems to me desirable, however, that the matter should
be made clear, and that pragmatists (not to speak of others) should
actually give some consideration to the reasons offered in support
A PARTIAL ANALYSIS OF FAITH 15
of the view that the pragmatic doctrine of the efficacy of intelli-
gence properly implies psychophysical dualism and interactionism.
And in the hope that Professor Bode himself, or others of the sam
way of thinking, may again deal with the subject, I venture, by
way of conclusion and resume, to set down a few questions to
which I think it would be illuminating to have clear answers. (1)
Does the pragmatist hold that only physical things exist, i.e., that
they alone are disclosed by, or present as factors in, experience
("physical" meaning "occupying a position in objective space
and existing as a part of the sum of masses and forces dealt with
by physical science") ? (2) Is it not a fact that in the formation
of intelligent plans of action there are involved both "imaginative
recovery of the bygone" and imaginative anticipation of objects
and situations not yet physically realized? (3) If so, can every
bit of the content presented in the two types of experience just
mentioned be regarded as forming a real part of the physical world,
as constituted at the moment of such experience? (4) If so, where
in that world, and in what form or manner, does the "bygone"
that is "imaginatively recovered," or the future that is not yet
realized, exist? (5) If it does exist physically at the moment of
the experience in question, precisely what is meant by calling it
"bygone" or "future"? To the last four of these questions I can
not but think that all partisans of the new materialism might profit-
ably address themselves.
ARTHUR 0. LOVE JOY.
JOHNS HOPKINS UNIVERSITY.
A PARTIAL ANALYSIS OF FAITH
ELIEVING with Eucken, James, Bergson, and other philoso-
phers of like mind, that faith plays a very vital part in the lives
of us all, it has nevertheless been a mystery above other mysteries
to me when I attempted seriously to describe it, analyze it, and
classify it. A multiplicity of questions have arisen, some of which
have become so defined that an answer seems at least worth while
seeking. Some of them are : What is the function of faith, what does
it contribute to the happiness or the achievements of mankind?
What is the attitude of mind, what the emotions, what the nature
of the contents which go to make up the faith states? Is it some-
thing that grows within us by exercise and cultivation as the per-
ceiving and reasoning processes do ? Does it correspond to something
outside of us, or is it entirely subjective, something within us ?
A first difficulty with the problem lies in the fact that few of us
16 THE JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
ever attain, or but seldom attain, to the pure faith states, and the
element of faith in our everyday life is so intermingled with other
elements in the stream of consciousness, that it is difficult to isolate
it for purposes of introspection. However the present writer through
stress of much illness and suffering has come to a certain practise of
faith and thereby to a certain understanding of it as practised by
others, which yields a degree of actual comfort and logical satisfac-
tion.
We all know what faith means, an acceptance of that which has
never been proven and may be impossible of proving. Its first and
most fundamental characteristic seems to be the attitude which con-
sciousness assumes toward any matter. This attitude, so far as the
present introspectionist is concerned, refuses to be subsumed under
any of the classes of attention as described in the present day
psychologies, and seems so radically different that to posit a class of
attitudes entirely opposite to those of attention offers the best chances
for clear analysis, at least for the present. Now ordinarily, we meet
the common situations of life in an attitude of attention, with the
responses acquired by imitation, habit, or reasoning. We depend
on ourselves, on our past experiences as known to consciousness in
remembering, for these responses and receive stimuli and carry out
reactions, with fluctuations of attention as to kind and degree. Con-
sciousness, or surface consciousness, goes on in an uninterrupted
flow. But a new situation arises or an old one becomes intolerable
with which one feels unable to cope. No amount of thinking carried
on with the utmost concentration of attention seems to avail. A
man with faith habits then suspends all efforts and waits for an
inspiration or guiding thought to come; if from within, we call it
auto-suggestion or intuition ; if from another, it is called, suggestion ;
if it appears to come from a divine source, it is prayer or an answer
to prayer.
Now the general nature of what the individual does is the same
in all cases. He drops the attitude of attention, stops the thinking
going on under the dominance of a controlling idea with carefully
selected associations. He assumes a waiting or expectant attitude in
throwing open his mind as it were in the belief that a suitable idea
or thought will appear to fill the existing vacancy. The common
expressions such as "I was at my wits' end when all at once I had a
lucky thought," or, "I was in despair when suddenly an inspira-
tion came," illustrate one type of response of the first sort, namely,
the appeal, perhaps unconscious, to something within one, other than
the surface stream of thought, call it the subconscious, or what you
will. The second sort of response, or suggestion, is found when peo-
A PARTIAL ANALYSIS OF FAITH 17
pie go to the confessional, to clairvoyants, or resort to some stereo-
typed form of response such as fortune telling by cards, opening a
book at random and being guided by the first words read. Young
children appeal to parents or other adults in this way and if a proper
spirit is cultivated in the family the different members appeal to
one another in this fashion and exemplify as nothing else does the
raison d'etre of family life. The third response, appeal to a Divine
Power, is of course prayer, epitomized in the Gethsemane utterance,
"Not my will, but Thine be done." It betokens the inhibition of
the dominant thought in the fullest degree, and the most complete
submission to whatever may come from the outside, or from within,
as one accepts the transcendent or the immanent idea of God.
The term expectancy is by no means new in philosophical writ-
ings. Eibot has used it in his Evolution of General Ideas, saying
that to simple association expectancy must be added before reason-
ing takes place. 1 Consciousness must assume the expectant attitude
in order for the ideas to take on the correct relationship which is
necessary in the processes called reasoning. James uses the word
repeatedly in his essay, "The Sentiment of Rationality," without
giving it any very specific meaning other than a general state of mind
when uncertainty in regard to future events beyond our control is
present, as for example in the following. ' ' The permanent presence
of the sense of futurity in the mind has been strangely ignored by
most writers, but the fact is that our consciousness at a given moment
is never free from the ingredient of expectancy. " 2 Or again : ' ' An
ultimate datum, even though it be logically unrationalized, will, if
its quality is such as to define expectancy, be peacefully accepted by
the mind." 3 Whether one is justified in using the word to describe
or name a fundamental attitude of the mind different from attention
is another matter. If such a class exists, I know of no other word so
appropriate unless it be that of waiting, and while very appropriate
for some of this class, yet it carries with it too much the idea of
passivity, while expectancy denotes an eager looking forward, a
quality which caused the poet to write of faith as a "living flame."
On the other hand "waiting stillness" is very much used by the
mystics to describe the quiet confident repose of the soul in deepest
meditation. The expression "waiting on the Lord" is especially
frequent in the writings of the Hebrew psalmists: "I waited for the
Lord, He inclined unto me, " " My soul doth wait upon the Lord. ' '
When we come to consider the content of faith we can only say
1 Ribot, Evolution of General Ideas, p. 25.
2 James, Essays in Popular Philosophy, p. 77.
3 Ibid., p. 79.
18 THE JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
that any thing whose outcome lies in the future may constitute an
object of faith, but the universal and persistent content of faith has
to do with the welfare of the individual soul, now and hereafter,
with salvation and immortality; with the existence and purposes of
God, the Universal Soul, as it were; with the relationships of one
soul to another and to God ; in short, those things regarding which
our logical concepts and laws seem inadequate and whose future we
can not forecast with any demonstrable certainty. With many peo-
ple the welfare of the body is also in a peculiar manner the substance
of faith and all sorts of people assert the efficacy of faith in the cure
of physical ills. That faith in the cure of physical ills and in the
cure of sin is in its essential features the same thing from a psychol-
ogical standpoint, the writer has tried to show in a former article. 4
This view receives strong confirmation in an essay by a Catholic
Father of Oxford who finds that the directions given by St. Ignatius
several centuries ago for practising spiritual exercises are the same,
mutatis mutandis, as those given by the modern mental healer for
physical cure. Taking psychoanalysis as an example of mental
psychotherapeutics which has the highest claim to being scientific
he says: "Psychoanalysis is based on the principle that there is a
subconscious self which can do things which we can not do volun-
tarily and seeks by means of suggestion to utilise the subconscious
machinery. Substitute for the subconscious self, God, and you have
the fundamental principle of the Spiritual Exercises." 5
But these subjects mentioned above have from time immemorial
formed the subject matter for intellectual speculation and scientific
experimentation, and reams upon reams have been written offering
proofs concerning truths accepted at that time, none of which have
been able to stand the test of newer facts and experiences. How is
it then that faith can handle these same matters and make them active
forces in the lives of individuals? In his Essay, "The Will to Be-
lieve," James makes this statement: "In truths dependent on our
personal actions, then, faith based on desire is certainly a lawful
and possibly an indispensable thing." e I believe that faith is always
based on desire, but for the matter of that so is willing, but with a
difference. Desire is a state of consciousness which terminates in
judgments, decisions, and acts, provided a will or action complex can
be found to complete the desire satisfactorily to consciousness as a
whole. If none such presents itself in the stream of consciousness,
*" A Glimpse into Mysticism and the Faith State." This JOURNAL, Vol.
XVII, pp. 708-715, Dec. 16, 1920.
Walker, ' ' The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius, ' ' Hib. Jour., April, 1921.
P. 25.
A PARTIAL ANALYSIS OF FAITH 19
then the desire falls below the threshold and exists as unexpressed
desire vague and undetermined as to outcome and in many cases
the cause of a disturbed emotional state. If thwarted or incomplete
desires in regard to a certain matter are many, that is, if conscious-
ness continues to find no satisfactory completion of the desires, a
state of inadequacy appears, consciousness inhibits itself, throws
wide the gates which guard the threshold so carefully in the process
of remembering in a state of attention, and assumes a state of expec-
tancy. Into the void thus formed, springs the desire with all the
weight of accumulation with the same action complex which before
could not force its way into the stream of thought or at least not
with enough strength to bring a decision. The impulses and desires,
weak as regards the dominant lines of thought and action, prevail
when they have brought about a state of uneasiness which leads to
the inhibiting of these dominant lines.
Perhaps we find the best example of this in religious conversion.
Underneath the many failures were the impulses, the strivings,
the desire to do better which ultimately brought about a state of
repentance, and prevailing over the old dominating line of action,
culminated in a new state of consciousness which is called the new
birth in Christian teaching. It is the bringing of consciousness to
higher levels in the terminology of Eucken, which reorganization
he ascribes to the mercy of God, to free grace. Personally, I too
believe that God reenforces these designs; that He is an active force
in us, sublimating the "natural desires" and motivating our weaker
but higher ideals and aspirations. Of this, of course I offer no
logical proof, but only add my testimony to that of others who
live and act by the same faith.
Prayer is the generally accepted mental process of faith and
is undeniably based on desire. In the words of the familiar hymn,
"Prayer is the soul's sincere desire, unuttered or expressed."
St. Augustine's admonition, "for to journey thither [towards God],
nay even to arrive there is nothing else but the will to go," forms
the nucleus of an interesting story of modern life, giving a psy-
chologically true account of the transition of a weary restless soul
to a joyous peacefulness though the strength of her desire. 7 Again
the Hebrew psalmist has expressed the thought so perfectly. ' ' Rest
in the Lord, wait patiently for him; Delight thyself also in the
Lord and he shall give thee thy heart's desire."
Faith healing of the body follows in the main the same proce-
dure, as said before. First, all mental therapeutists and indeed
all practitioners recognize the need of the desire for health. A lady
T Montague, " The Will to Go," Atlantic Mo., May, 1921.
20 THE JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
who had been iimane for some time once expressed the wish to a
vi^it iii'j triciid that she might recover and leave the hospital. ThU
waa reported to the head physician, who replied that there was
then a chance of her recovery, and she did recover. The Christian
Scientists teach th-ir patients to desire health, tn think health, and
to believe health is coming. It is difficult, in the present state of
knowledge regarding the interaction of the mind and the body,
to say why this is necessary. In general one may say that probably
the normal functioning of the body depends on the proper distribu-
tion of nerve energy to the different organs and parts of the body.
In certain cases, especially chronic ones, the mind seems in some
way to have played a part in the altering of the course of the nerve
currents and by a different mode of thinking can help to restore
normality. Fear has an inhibitory and generally harmful effect
on bodily functions, and hope and confidence have a helpful one.
Psychologists by method of psychical analysis believe they have
discovered that certain people take refuge in illness to escape some
situation they fear. The removal of the fear constitutes the main
factor in the cure, and physical and mental energy flow again in
natural channels. All suggestion, from auto-suggestion to hypno-
tism, is based on the principle of the inhibition of the stream of con-
sciousness and on the attitude of readiness to receive a new content.
This content must, as we have said, be based on desire and as most
people desire health very ardently, however much they may fear
a certain situation to which they are called upon to react, mental
cures are very often easily effected.
Dr. Prince has set forth this theory very clearly in the follow-
ing paragraphs as regards the new thought processes and his emo-
tion is equivalent to our idea of desire. "By similar procedures in
a very large number of instances, for therapeutic purposes, 7 have
changed the setting, the viewpoint, and the meaning of ideas with-
out any realization on the patients' part of the reason for the
change. This is the goal of psychotherapy, and in my judgment
the one fundamental principle common to all technical methods of
such treatments, different as these methods appear to be when
superficially considered.
"It is obvious that in everyday life when by arguments, per-
suasion, suggestion, punishment, exhortation, or prayer we change
the viewpoint of a person, we do so by building up complexes which
shall act as settings and give new meanings to his ideas. I may
add, if we wish to sway him, to carry this new viewpoint to ful-
fillment through action we introduce into the complex an emotion
which by the driving force of its impulses shall carry the ideas to
practical fruition."
A PARTIAL ANALYSIS OF FAITH 21
Again he says : ' ' With excitation of emotion, instincts and senti-
ments which have opposing conative tendencies are inhibited, re-
pressed, or dissociated and with them the systems with which they
are organized. ' ' 8 Here again we read desire, which I believe to
be the basis of most if not all emotions. The desire changes the
direction of thought, when consciousness is open, expectant.
The general feeling tone of faith is excitement-repose, running
the gamut from the highest ecstasy and pure joy to deep peace and
the waiting stillness. The factor which brings emotions of this
class is apparently the oneness of the individual and the source
from which the desire is to be realized. Brahmanism teaches that
the highest bliss is complete absorption in the Nirvana. The author
of the fourteenth chapter of the gospel of St. John sums up the
teaching on the unity of God and man in the following expression :
''I am in the Father and ye in me, and I in you." This is to
bring the highest satisfaction and the greatest power. James says
that this is the appeal in all movements which have meant much
to humanity, i.e., kinship or oneness.
"If we survey the field of history and ask what feature all
great periods of revival, of expansion of the human mind, display
in common, we shall find I think, simply this: that each and all
of them have said to the human being. 'The inmost nature of the
reality is congenial to powers which you possess. ' " 9
All this contains an important lesson for religious propaganda.
That concept of God has the strongest appeal which makes the
worshipper feel that he is akin to God or that God is akin to him.
The strong appeal of Christianty is that the tie or relationship be-
tween God and man is love of such a nature that it defines expect-
ancy and removes all doubts as to the future outcome of events,
therefore bringing the satisfaction and peace sought. To disbelieve
in a God who has this intimate relationship to us seems the acme of
evil or sin from the standpoint of this religion, the greatest dis-
loyalty to life itself. To believe in such a God is an essential fac-
tor in salvation and the highest service man has in his power to
render to himself, to others and to the universe and its God. Love
is the culmination of faith.
The feeling of kinship, commonly called rapport, is likewise of
the utmost importance in all physical cures where faith plays a
part. It is the consensus of opinion among psychoanalysts that
cure by their method is only possible where the rapport exists.
One of them at least believes that the establishing of this bond is
sometimes sufficient to effect the cure without the analysis. A
Morton Prince, The Unconscious, pp. 368-9, p. 500.
Op. cit., p. 86.
22 THE JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
Christian Science healer told me that she could not help anyone
who was antagonistic to her and that she believed this was the com-
mon experience of all healers. A well known medical writer after
describing the rather elaborate Weir Mitchell rest cure, concludes
that the good results sometimes attained are chiefly brought about
by the suggestive influence of the physician and that the main effect
of the treatment is mental, much depending on the personality of
the physician and on the individuality of the patient. I do not
entirely agree with this, but certain it is that a feeling of close
fellowship brings about a state of mental and physical relaxation
essential to the healing of the body and to the redirection of nerve
energy.
What is the function and value of faith in human life can be
pretty well made out from the foregoing. Religious writings of all
times and places abound in stories of men whose lives have been
changed and reinvigorated by repentance and consequent acts of
faith. It means either a tapping of our own reserves of energy or
the drawing upon the sources of divine energy. "They that wait
upon the Lord shall renew their strength." Everyone has the
option of believing that which harmonizes best with his own ex-
perience. History will show, I believe, that the men who have most
influenced the race through the force of their personality have
been men who were great practisers of prayer, or else had a strong
belief in destiny. One who believes in destiny is one who takes
some sort of an appeal to the dispenser of fate in such a way that
he is confident of his own powers of accomplishment and hence
undertakes and carries through tremendous tasks. Likewise we
have found it to be a restorer of physical power and health. Just
as we found repentance necessary for spiritual rebirth, so we find
relaxation necessary for bodily renewal. Some physician has said:
"The primary effect of relaxation is weakness, stupor, numbness
and death-like paralysis ; the secondary effect, however, is increased
strength and new life."
The important question, the practical question in the whole
matter is, are the faith processes something common to all, or is
there a class of people who have the gift of faith as some have the
gift of music or art? It is peculiar to some people, no doubt, to
excel in the exercise of faith, but if our reasoning has been correct,
we can all cultivate it in the measure that our individual lives call
for it. First of all, we must have desire to realize an ideal; it is
the first step in the faith process. Desire is a mental process which
can not either be completely rationalized or find expression in will
processes. Hence its importance in consciousness is overlooked but
A PARTIAL ANALYSIS OF FAITH 23
it is the first step in all other processes, speaking broadly. In the
case of faith, the desires are those which enter into the stream of
consciousness and begin to function as a part of it, without being
completely rationalized or motivated. And herein lies the danger
of faith: that one gives the reins to desire without waiting for a
reasonable outcome to be forecasted, when such an outcome is
within the possibilities of reason. It is this abuse of faith which
has brought it into discredit. Faith should only be called into
play where strong desire exists and reason fails.
Secondly to attain an effectual faith, one must cultivate harmony
within oneself, a sort of rapport between the subconscious and the
surface consciousness, so that the forces of both work together in
greater power than either alone could possess. Mystics and healers
alike emphasize this need of harmony, the absence of any distracting
thought which might draw off energy in a useless and harmful ex-
penditure. A physician in speaking of the over-reaction of certain
patients to incoming stimuli of all kinds, says: "Such patients are
consequently in a state of perpetual mental unrest. . . . Nervous
energy is being wasted at a terrific rate in all directions. ' ' 10 Another
physician speaks of the conservation and direction of energy, say-
ing: "In the well developed individual the distribution of energy
through widening of the symbol, the 'soul' or spiritual development
has left the proper amount of functioning, of energy carriage, on any
one of them. ' ' "
In the same way, if one is to exercise faith by way of suggestion
for the benefit of another, one must practise removing all antagonism
between the suggestionist and the one who is to profit thereby. The
cultivation of a spirit of love and kindness is the cardinal teaching
of the great religions and they abound in precepts and admonitions
for doing this. The only general principle that comes to mind that
would be of aid in this, is the recognition of kinship with one's
fellow men as spoken of above, the abolition of all class and racial
distinction where moral matters are concerned. Spiritual faith seems
to rest, by the same law, on the recognition of the identity of one's
desire and purpose with those of the God of the universe.
The third rule for the attainment of faith is that one is to become
skillful in inhibiting the stream of thought, in the power of relax-
ing, in reaching monoideism, by a process of letting go all ideas in
consciousness in order for the one coming from another source to
10 Bryant, " Treatment of The Chronic Intestinal Invalid," Am. Jour, of
The Med. Soc., Jan. 1921, p. 72.
11 Jelliffe, ' ' Multiple Sclerosis and Psychoanalysis, ' ' Am. Jour, of The Med.
Soc., May, 1921, p. 672.
24 THE JOURNAL OF PHILOSOl'll Y
hold its place in the focus of a new consciousness. A similar relaxa-
tion of the body is a help in this. The celebrated Reverend Dr.
T , the first and greatest successor of Moody, once told a small
group of listeners that he often spent the night in prayer lying prone,
which is the attitude of greatest bodily relaxation. Medical men are
coming to realize the function of physical relaxation in restorative
processes. One of them says that relaxation for nervousness may be
like diet or hygienic measures in gastro-intestinal disorders, and that
doing away with residual tension is the sine qua non of thorough
and successful treatment. "So in certain chronic cases, relaxation
becomes a gradual progress, a matter of habit formation, wherein
the presence of pain or disordered intestinal secretions or other
organic disturbances may completely block the way." "
In a word, while we shall never rationalize the supreme and per-
sistent content of our highest faith, we do rationalize much of the
humbler sort. We shall never understand the great geniuses of faith
any more than we do the great geniuses in music or philosophy, but
we may by faithful effort learn something of its laws as we do those
of memory or judgment, and in a small way grow in the knowledge
and practise thereof.
LUCINDA PEARL BOGOS.
UBBANA, ILL.
BOOK REVIEWS
The Psychology of the Special Senses and their Functional Dis-
orders. ARTHUR F. HURST. (The Croonian Lectures.) Oxford
University Press. 1920. Pp. 122.
The title of this book is somewhat misleading, as it deals almost
entirely with functional disorders of the special senses. There is an
introductory chapter on the nature of hysteria, followed by chapters
on disturbances of the special senses, especially of touch, pain, hear-
ing and vision. These disturbances are in the nature of anaesthesias
and hyperaesthesias.
All sensory experiences are considered as active processes, as
"reactions" of the individual, rather than as the mere passive recep-
tion of stimuli. In the absence of this active process, the state of
attention, no impressions will produce sensory experiences. In order
to hear, one must listen ; in order to see, one must look. This active
process has its physiological basis in synaptic changes in the afferent
neural pathways; attention is lowered resistance, absence of atten-
i* Jacobus, " Reduction of Nervous Irritability and Excitement through Pro-
gressive Relaxation," Jour, of Nervous and Mental Diseases, April, 1921, p. 284.
JOURNALS AND NEW BOOKS 25
tion is increased resistance. Any condition which will increase atten-
tion to a group of sensory stimuli may produce hyperaesthesia, and
any condition which will decrease attention will produce lowered
sensitivity or even anaesthesia.
Now suggestion is a very potent factor in producing these
changes and is made responsible for all of the functional sensory
disorders. Hysteria is defined as a ''condition in which symptoms
are present which have resulted from suggestion and are curable
by psychotherapy" (p. 5). Many of the supposedly fixed stigmata
of hysteria such as the ansesthesias and the restricted visual fields
are suggested unintentionally by the examining physician. The
patient being led by the technique of the examination and by lead-
ing questions to believe that certain conditions are present, e.g.
anaesthesias, fails to pay further attention to their sensory stimuli.
The uniformity of the symptoms in different cases is attributed to
the uniformity of examination methods with the consequent similar
heterosuggestion. The hysterical phenomena which are not the direct
effect of heterosuggestion are the result of autosuggestion following
organic disabilities. Thus a soldier deafened by a shell explosion may
believe that he is permanently deafened, and will no longer listen.
Hence he may remain deaf after all organic disturbance has ceased.
By forced attention to the pain of wounds, the patient may
become so accustomed to "look for" the pain that he may feel it long
after the wound has completely healed. Here the sensory experiences
are the result of greatly lowered synaptic resistance.
Upon the foregoing conception of hysteria the author with his
associates has effected many cures of functional disorders among the
soldiers. A group of case histories' is presented to illustrate each
type of hysterical symptom. The most effective treatment, where the
intelligence of the patient permits, consists of a simple and clear
explanation of the facts of suggestion, with a course of training in
the active process of listening, looking, and feeling.
A. T. POFFENBERGER.
COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY.
JOURNALS AND NEW BOOKS
SCIENTIA. August, 1921. De la contribution des divers pays
au developpement de la chimie (pp. 85-102) : B. L. VANZETTI
(Padua). -A well-written sketch of a complex history, with insis-
tence on its international character. The Relation of Light Emis-
sion and Absorption to Atomic Structure (pp. 103-114) : E. P.
LEWIS (California).- A notable effort to put in brief and simple
26 THE JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
form the tangled and still highly problematic current conceptions
of the structure of atoms. The result is a paper well worth careful
perusal. Le problems de I'integration physiologique (pp. 115-
126): C. M. CHILD (Chicago). -Restates the author's well-known
opinions. The chemically most active region of an organism tends
to dominate the rest, because of the influences which that chemical
activity sends out. Dominance and subordination can thus be
chemically explained and quantitatively studied. ProbUmes finan-
ciers d'apres guerre. III. D'un nouveau princvpe de progressivite
pour les impots de succession, (pp. 127-144) : CORRADO GINI
(Padua). -An interesting detailed and critical study of the pro-
posal to tax inheritances more severely in proportion to the number
of generations through which the heritage has descended. In the
present financial crisis, the author recommends heavy taxes on such
capital as is not due to the labor and savings of the present owner,
and likewise on consumption which is beyond what is necessary
for efficiency. Reviews of Scientific Books and Periodicals.
Bruhn, Wilhelm. Glauben and Wissen. Leipzig and Berlin : B. G.
Teubner. 1921. Pp. 108. Kart. 30c; geb. 35c.
Dilthey, Wilhelm. Die Jugendgeschichte Hegels, und Andere
Abhandlungen zur Geschichte des Deutschen Idealismus. Gesam-
melte Schriften. Band IV. Leipzig: B. G. Teubner. 1921.
Pp. x + 583. $2.05, geheftet ; $2.25, gebunden.
W. Dilthey, A. Riehl, W. Wundt, H. Ebbinghaus, R. Eucken, Br.
Bauch, Th. Litt, M. Geiger, T. K. Oesterreich. Sytematische
Philosophic. Edited by Paul Hinneberg. Third, revised edition.
Leipzig : B. G. Teubner. 1921. Pp. x + 408.
Hartman, Nicolai. Grundziige einer Metaphysik der Erkenntnis.
Berlin and Leipzig : Walter de Gruyter & Co. 1921. Pp. xii -j-
389.
Stolzle, Remigius. Charles Darwins Stellung zum Gottesglauben.
Leipzig : Felix Meiner. 1922. Pp. 34. Brosch. 25c.
NOTES AND NEWS
fiMILE BOUTROUX
fimile Boutroux died in Paris on November 22 at the age of
seventy-six years. This simple announcement came as a shock to the
many academic generations that have passed through the Sorbonne
since Boutroux first became professor of philosophy in 1885, and to
NOTES AND NEWS 27
the countless friends his lucid lectures and his charming personality
won for him in England and America. To the students and profes-
sors of philosophy in France, to whom, from Bergson down, he has
been cher mattre, Boutroux seemed a fixed star, and a star of the
first magnitude. His passing means the removal of a thinker and a
man whose influence over the present generation of educated French-
men has been very great, not only through his original philosophic
analysis of the basic conceptions of science, but even more through
his gift of sympathetic interpretation of the great philosophers of
the past.
It is perhaps as an illuminating teacher that Boutroux will be
longest remembered. He possessed that ability that seems the gift
of certain French minds, and that is the envy and the despair of
foreign admirers, to transcend the explication des textes and to grasp
the very soul of a man 's thought. He aimed, in his own words, ' ' to
seek the truth together with a great philosopher, following him along
the winding bypaths of meditation, sharing in his emotions, enjoy-
ing with him that harmony wherein his mind has found repose."
Unfortunately, unlike Faguet, there did not flow from his pen an
unending series of penetrating recreations of the thinkers of the past.
We have a single volume of studies on Socrates, Aristotle, Kant;
and we have his Pascal. But the memory of his lectures on the his-
tory of philosophy at the Bcole Normale Superieure and at the Sor-
bonne will not soon fade, nor will his art be forgotten.
In his original thinking Boutroux addressed himself to the prob-
lem around which has resolved so much of French philosophical
investigation in the last generation, the problem of liberty. In a
world of ordered uniformity and law, such as the scientific advance
of the last century has demanded, where is there to be found room
for that moral choice without which ethics, and indeed any human
activity, even that of science itself, seems impossible? From 1874,
when his doctor's thesis De la contingence des lois de la nature
appeared, to Science et Religion in 1908, Boutroux undertook a criti-
cism and an evaluation of the fundamental conceptions of mechan-
istic science in the interests of revealing the discontinuities and the
contingencies that lie at its very heart. Probably his most important
book is his De I'idee de loi naturelle, published in 1894, wherein his
analysis is at its best. Here he tries to establish the difference between
the various kinds of laws which the particular sciences have dis-
covered, and especially between the static and mathematical laws of
mechanics, physics, and chemistry, and the dynamic and qualitative
laws of the biological and social sciences. The latter alone deal with
concrete realities; the former are abstractions which represent but
28 THE JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
one aspect of physical events, that susceptible of definite measure-
ment. These mechanical and mathematical laws, it is true, are neces-
sary, and set rigid limits to the events that are possible; but they
leave undetermined the particular things to whose activity they set
limits. Just what that activity will be depends on the laws of living,
of dynamic, ever-changing things, which are too close to reality to be
purely mechanical.
Boutroux insists strongly, following Comte, on the independence
of each science, and on the irreducibility of its laws to those of any
other science. The laws of the more concrete sciences, like psychology
and biology, can not be deduced from those of the more abstract and
mathematical sciences ; each new realm is governed by new and special
principles not contained in those of the previous realm. Nor is a
complex whole no more than the sum of its parts; such a whole is
genuinely creative, for with it new qualities come into existence. The
free development of such new wholes Boutroux believes to be the
truly active and contingent part of nature.
But the little that remains to us in written form of Boutroux is
by no means the measure of his influence. It was the charm of his
personality that carried his message so far. To know him was to love
him. We need go no further than our own William James, who never
mentions Boutroux in his letters save to call him "a regular angel"
or "the gentlest and most lovable of characters." And it is surely
as the teacher of the youth he so well loved that Boutroux would most
wish to be remembered.
JOHN H. RANDALL, JR.
COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY.
VOL. XIX, No. 2. JANUARY 19, 1922
THE JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
AN ANALYSIS OF REFLECTIVE THOUGHT
IN replying to Mr. Buermeyer's criticism of my analysis of reflec-
tive thought 1 I suffer from somewhat the same embarrassment
that affected him in writing it. He was handicapped by the fact
that the analysis which he takes as the subject of his criticism was
written for pedagogical purposes rather than for strictly logical ends.
I am handicapped in replying by the fact that since Mr. Buermeyer
states that he accepts the general instrumental position, and since
he develops his own views incidentally in a criticism of portions of
How We Think, I am not always quite sure of what his exact posi-
tion would be were he writing to express his independent beliefs.
In any case I shall ignore the statements of How We Think, and
attempt to discuss the points made in Mr. Buermeyer's article on
their own merits. It hardly seems to me that the original text
naturally bears in all points the construction he puts upon it, but
that is a minor matter, and if as acute a critic as Mr. Buermeyer
misunderstood it, the text is hardly likely to have been unambiguous
to others. So I am grateful to him for this opportunity.
The questions raised by Mr. Buermeyer concern the matter of
steps or processes of thoughts. Starting from my analysis into
(i) the occurrence of a problem, (ii) its specification, (iii) occur-
rence of a solving suggestion, or supposition, hypothesis, (iv) elabo-
ration of suggestion, or reasoning, (v) experimental testing, he
adduces reasons for holding that the reflective act can not be
resolved into separate steps, and that, especially as thinking be-
comes more competent or scientific, the second, third and fourth
"tend to fuse into one indissoluble act." Part of Mr. Buermeyer's
contention I accept unreservedly, and am chagrined to find that I
should have given any impression to the contrary. In speaking of
"steps" it is perhaps natural to suppose that something chrono-
logical is intended, and from that it is presumably a natural conclu-
sion that the steps are taken in a temporal sequence in the order taken
iThis JOURNAL, VoL XVII, pp. 673-681.
29
30 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
above. Nothing of this sort, however, is intended. The analysis is
formal, and indicates the logical "movements" involved in an act of
critical thought. It is a matter of indifference which comes first.
Not even the occurrence of a problem need come absolutely first in
time. For a scientific man may reason and experiment for the ex-
press purpose of discovering a problem upon which to exercise in-
quiry. Were I writing at the present time and writing a complete
statement, I should certainly emphasize the point that the main
distinction between uncritical and critical or scientific thinking is
that the latter strives to combine as far as possible into one act the
functions of inferring and testing. The attempt represents an ideal
or limit which can not be attained except in mathematics. But so
far as the endeavor is concerned, I accept not merely Mr. Buer-
meyer's criticism of temporal separation of steps, but his conclusion
regarding the fusion into one process of induction, deduction and
experimental testing.
Apparently this statement leaves no outstanding differences be-
tween Mr. Buermeyer and myself. However, the case is not so
simple as this. Mr. Buermeyer says things which imply that in
denying temporal separation he also denies any significant distinc-
tion of functions, while I still stand by the indispensable nature for
logical analysis of these distinctions. Upon this point, however, the
embarrassment to which I referred in the opening sentences comes
into play. I am not sure just how far he means to go in the direc-
tion of logical as well as of psychological identification. In any
<ase, he makes specific statements which point to obliteration of
distinctions in logic between induction and deduction, and those
statements will be used by me to clear up what seem to me signif-
icant logical distinctions. He refers indeed pretty continually to
the functions of induction, deduction and experiment, in the course
of showing their mutual involution. But whether this reference
marks a recognition that induction, deduction and experiment are
logically distinct from one another or whether it is a mere conces-
sion on Mr. Buermeyer 's part to the exigencies of stating my own
position for purposes of criticism, I am not sure.
This question is the important one, for it concerns the respective
definitions of induction and deduction. My impression is that Mr.
Buermeyer accepts the traditional statement of induction and deduc-
tion as logically movements respectively from the particular to the
general and from the general to the particular. My chief concern is
to modify this tradition. Induction I take to be a movement from
facts to meaning; deduction a development of meanings, an exhibi-
tion of implications, while I hold that the connection between fact
AN ANALYSIS OF REFLECTIVE THOUGHT 31
and meaning is made only by an act in the ordinary physical sense
of the word act, that is, by experiment involving movement of the
body and change in surrounding conditions. These are the points
to which I hold, surrendering to Mr. Buermeyer as unclear and
inadequate those portions of How We Think calculated to leave any
other impression. There are of course points of contact between
the traditional statement and that which I have just made. Facts,
data, are logically speaking particulars, while meaning functions as
a universal. But the traditional discussion takes either particular
or universal or both for granted as given, while I am trying to
account for them, and to account for them in terms of the reflective
transformation of an experienced situation from a confused and
uncertain state to a clear and coherent condition. In this process,
data with their particularistic function present themselves when the
situation is subjected to analytic observation; they represent the
attempt to specify the problem. Suggested meanings present them-
selves as the means of restoring unity, coherence and consistency
to the particulars. As such they have the function of universality.
Experiment is the indicated application of meanings to the partic-
ulars to see what happens to see whether the suggested unification
can be carried out and maintained. Experiment has a two-fold
function. From the side of suggested meanings it is a test ; from the
side of the otherwise fragmentary data, it supplies organization,
system. There are various things in Mr. Buermeyer 's criticism which
indicate that he accepts the traditional idea of ready-made or given
particulars and universals, data and meanings. At this point, we
part company.
The explicit discussion of induction and deduction may con-
veniently begin with a reference to the fact that the foregoing state-
ments assume but three functions; while the one quoted earlier in-
cludes four leaving out the problem in respect to which there is no
difference between us. This seeming discrepancy is due to the fact
that the text of How We Think, with its practical pedagogic aim,
was especially concerned with enforcing the difference between un-
critical and critical thinking. 2 Now one of the most marked dif-
ferences between poor thinking and good thinking is the former's
premature acceptance and assertion of suggested meanings. One of
the marks of controlled thinking is postponement of such acceptance.
Consequently I inserted between the problem and the presentation
of a suggestion the requirement of analytic examination of the "facts
2 The reader should not be misled by the fact that Mr. Buermeyer and I
use the word " reasoning " differently. He uses it to express what I call
critical or reflective thinking thinking in its eulogistic sense. I prefer to con-
fine it to " ratiocination " or rational discourse, the elaboration of implications.
32 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
of the case." This "step" is not however different in critical think-
ing from the step of a tentative or hypothetical adoption of a sugges-
tion. It marks the endeavor to control the form which a hypothe-
tical meaning takes. The point as regards my view of induction
can be made clearer by distinguishing between the inductive move-
ment and induction as a critically executed function. Both termi-
nate logically in an hypothesis. But in ordinary thinking no pains
are taken to control the formation of the hypothesis. In critical or
scientific inquiry great pains are taken to secure an accurate speci-
fication and collection of observed data as the means of control.
This "step" is in my opinion the characteristic trait of scientific
induction. There is no implication that suggestions do not arise
until this step is taken. On the contrary suggestions swarm and
press for acceptance. That is the very danger against which sys-
tematically executed analytic observation protects us.
Mill set out to lay down rules for induction which shall be as
stringent as syllogistic rules were for Aristotelian deduction. Now
as against this point of view it seems to me essential to maintain
that the occurrence to the mind of explanatory "causes" is not a
matter which can ever be subjected to stringent rules. The elements
of individual capacity and of accident can never be excluded in
the inductive operation. Huxley remarks that after reading Darwin
and Wallace their theory of the origin of species seemed so obvious
that he could only wonder how he and others who had access to the
same facts should not have thought of such an obvious explanation.
Here is the factor which can not be reduced to rule as Mill set out
to reduce it. But on the other hand, a certain degree of regulation
of occurrence of hypotheses does obviously occur. How t The reply
of How We Think, to which I still hold, is that the analytic examina-
tion (extensive and intensive) of observed events supplies such
control as is available. This process can be reduced to a considerable
extent to rules. Mill's "canons" are not what he took them to be, but
they are, especially the method of Difference and the Joint Method,
statements of the way to conduct observation in order to secure the
data which are most likely to render the suggestion of meaning (hy-
pothesis, theory, "cause") relevant and fruitful "most likely,"
other things being equal. There is no guarantee like that of the
Aristotelian syllogism such as Mill aspired to.
Instead of ruling out Mill's contribution to the theory of induc-
tion I tried to place it where it belongs. This consideration supplies
my answer to Mr. Buermeyer's remark that my account leaves me
without the support of Mill's canons, and in general reduces induc-
tion to a mere matter of happy guessing. Just because the phase
AN ANALYSIS OF REFLECTIVE THOUGHT 33
of happy guessing can not be eliminated, specification of the nature
of the problem or analytic observation is of transcendent importance
in induction. The performance of analytic observation of course
involves experiment; it does not precede it. And it is guided by
some idea or suggestion in most cases. Nevertheless there is a logical
difference between experiment as resulting in data which affect the
formation of a hypothesis and as affecting its acceptance. This is
true even when the same experiment has as matter of fact both effects.
Hence I can not accept Mr. Buermeyer's emendation that instead
of defining scientific induction as the sum of processes by which
formation of explanatory conceptions is facilitated (and regulated)
it should be defined as those by which their acceptance is determined.
Logically, we must distinguish the two results, although practically
(as has been said) the ideal or limit of scientific method is that the
same concrete procedure should effect both of them.
This is not a matter of splitting hairs. Practically it is essential
in order that the hypothetic character of an explanatory conception
may be adequately apprehended; and that the one thinking may
make certain that a proving or testing experiment brings to light
other facts than those which have led to its formation and (tenta-
tive) adoption. One has only to read current literature on spiritual-
ism and interpretation of dreams, proceeding from men who have
established scientific reputations in other fields, to note the practical
importance of this discrimination. The history of science is full
of similar cases such as the elaboration of Weissmannism.
The theoretical bearing of insistence upon induction as connected
with hypothesizing may be seen by examining Mr. Buermeyer's
contention that it is ' ' at least equally deductive in character. " I do
not differ from Mr. Buermeyer in holding that it will be adequately
performed in the degree in which it utilizes deduction. But this
statement implies that they are logically distinct, while Mr. Buer-
meyer goes to the extent of holding that they are identical. Deduc-
tion involves as he points out "the application of knowledge, of ideas
already in hand" (p. 675). Now this he claims shows that forming
a hypothesis is deductive, since it rests upon prior knowledge. "Only
if we already have some information about a problematic situation,
some experience of analogous situations, are we able to form a
conjecture not wholly random" (p. 675). And again he speaks of
the competent thinker as the one who ' ' focuses upon the case in ques-
tion all the funded results of the agent's past experience, the occur-
rence of analogies at once subtle and to the point" (p. 675). With-
out this deductive quality he holds that hypothesizing would be
wholly casual and one man's theory likely to be as good as another's.
34 JOURNAL OP PHILOSOPHY
The necessity of information about the problematic situation is
not only admitted, but insisted upon. It expresses precisely the need
of regulating the formation of conceptions by analytic observation
which has just been dwelt upon. But it is denied unqualifiedly that
this information operates logically after the manner of a premise of
deductive reasoning. If it did, any two men with the same technical
competency would collect the same data and give their elements the
same weight. Suggestion, the occurrence of a hypothetical meaning,
is in last analysis a brute fact, alogical. It happens or it doesn't;
a certain "idea" presents itself or it doesn't; some other conception
holds the mind. (That a similar inductive jump actually takes place
in all significant deductions, I do not question. But this does not
identify their functions, that is respective uses, values, characteris-
tic results.)
In reference to the use of reasoning from information derived
from other and analogous cases Mr. Buermeyer seems to me guilty of
a fallacy or confusion which I have elsewhere pointed out. (For
example, Democracy and Education, p. 187.) There is a difference
between saying that the suggestion of a hypothesis would not occur
without prior experience and that it rests upon the use of prior ex-
perience. The former is a physical statement, the latter is a logical
one. In fact men often have a suggestion occur to them without being
aware of the prior experience which enabled the suggestion to spring
up. Even in the cases when they are aware of an earlier experience
which generated the suggestion they do not, if they are wise,
place the suggesting experience and the suggested meaning in the
relation of premise and conclusion, but only in that of suggester and
suggested "association of ideas" in common parlance. The logical
question is whether the two situations are analogous. Knowledge
exists and is used to suggest a hypothesis. But the question for
present knowledge is whether the old case or rule is or is not appli-
cable to the new one. Many of our common errors come from as-
suming that what is known in some cases is also knowledge for the
case in hand. This kind of subeumption is the essence of all dog-
matism. Deductive reliance upon old knowledge, that is putting the
old case and the conception it suggests in the new case in the rela-
tion of logical premise and conclusion, is precisely the thing against
which the inductive function has to safeguard us. That a trained
man can rely upon old knowledge more confidently than an untrained
one is a fact. But the logically trained man still makes a distinction
between old knowledge as a source of suggestions and as a deductive
premise for a conclusion. The analytic inspection upon which I
have laid such emphasis as the crucial thing in induction has to ex-
AN ANALYSIS OF REFLECTIVE THOUGHT 35
tend not merely to the present problematic situation but to the prior
situations from which a would-be rule or conclusion springs up.
Only in this way, can we safeguard the acceptance of a suggestion
by determining the degree of similiarity which exists between the two
cases. Mr. Buermeyer refers to Newton's inference as to gravita-
tion. Well, why not refer also to his inference as to light ? It was
the same man working with the same instrumentalities. In one case,
the supposition of analogy with prior experiences has been confirmed.
In the other case, it hasn't been. In short, the hypothetical charac-
ter of inductive inference lies precisely in the supposition of analogy
between the present problematic cases and other assured cases.
This is the point at issue. There is no paradox in the fact that what
is knowledge in one context is hypothesis or even error in another.
But it is a fact which precludes that acceptance of prior knowledge
as a deductive premise upon which Mr. Buermeyer 's argument de-
pends.
Upon the importance in induction of a plurality of competing
hypotheses and of the importance of elimination, of exclusion, of all
but one, I am glad to find myself wholly at one with Mr. Buermeyer,
and also to accept the explanation which he gives (on p. 676). I
should also agree with Mr. Moore that the assumption of a plurality
of hypotheses as applicable (that is, as worth trying to apply) to
the same set of facts is of the essence of skepticism. But I should
add two qualifications. Such an assumption is itself involved in
the hypotheses; or it is itself a hypothesis, namely, that each one
of a number of hypotheses having prima facie claims is worth de-
veloping and examining. And I should add also that skepticism
about the categorical value of an inductive inference is a prerequi-
site of good thinking. Part of the worth of competing hypotheses
and of the method of successive elisions is that it fosters precisely
his healthy skepticism.
But I can not see in acceptance of the importance of the method
of elimination anything which militates against my analysis. I can
see in it several things which seem to go against Mr. Buermeyer 's.
For example, since all competing hypotheses are equally suggested
by the problematic situation in conjunction with prior analogous
situations, they are not deductive conclusions from identical premises
but are suggestions springing up from different sources. In the
latter case each may need deductive amplification and be worth
experimental testing. An assertion that incompatible hypotheses are
deductively grounded in identical premises is, it seems to me, skepti-
cism of the most nihilistic kind ; it destroys the very possibility of any
valid deduction. Mr. Moore's statement from this point of view is
36 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
quite moderate. But it implies no depreciation of plurality of hypo-
theses and a process of selection among them by a method of elimi-
nation. On the contrary. If one hypothesis is good because it starts
one train of deductive implications and initiates one set of experi-
ments, several are better because they extend the operation. In any
complicated case, it would be practically impossible to arrive at a
sound conclusion save as various deductive systems were compared
and the results of different experiments used to check one another.
Mr. Buermeyer's criticism applies also to the treatment of de-
duction as the development of a suggested meaning through tracing
its implications, that is, its logical connections with other meanings
or conceptions. His discussion of this point is, however, compara-
tively brief, and mine must also be. He speaks of deduction in
modern logic as "a general theory of types of order, or implica-
tion" (p. 676). I see nothing in this conception contrary to my point
of view. Because ordinary reasoning constantly employs implicatory
relationships in order to expand or elaborate a suggested meaning,
there is every reason why an abstract theory of implicatory relation-
ships should develop. Many of those who have engaged in the devel-
opment of this logic would deny their ultimate instrumental or meth-
odological character. But Mr. Buermeyer's general acceptance of
the instrumental logic does not suggest any such disposition on his
part. He says, however, that while the development of a content of a
hypothesis uses these types of order, it can not be identified with them,
since it is partial or selective. Precisely. Just as induction employs
selected matter-of-fact information in forming a hypothesis, so de-
duction employs a system of previously formed conceptions or mean-
ings or relations. It has to pick out and adapt for the purpose in
hand, which is set by the problem. This selection is inductive be- 4
cause it involves forming an hypothesis regarding their value or
applicability for the purpose in hand. Their established position
within the general system of types of implication does not guarantee
their appropriateness in the given context any more than the assured
place of information in one context guarantees its use in a new
problematic situation.
Up to this point I but repeat my agreement with Mr. Buermeyer
so far as the use of induction in deduction is concerned. It would
also be admitted or claimed that deduction occurs for the sake of
experimental testing. More than this, there is constant testing dur-
ing the deductive process; mentally conceptions are tried together
to see how they fit for the purpose in hand. Otherwise, as Mr. Buer-
meyer acutely remarks, deduction would become like the calculations
AN ANALYSIS OF REFLECTIVE THOUGHT 37
of an adding machine (p. 680 ). 3 But this dependence upon and use
of induction does not, that I can see, affect the statement that the
function of deduction, or deduction logically viewed, consists in
elaboration of a meaning of which has first presented itself in a
crude, undeveloped form, and which is accepted not finally but as
worth being made the base of development. 4 In fact, it is not easy
to tell whether or not Mr. Buermeyer denies this point.
In conclusion, one ultimate point at issue may be said to turn
upon the relation of act (or process) and function, or as Mr. Buer-
meyer points out the relation of the psychological and logical. I
concede wholly to Mr. Buermeyer the contention that in the degree in
which any job of thinking is well done, experimenting and deduc-
tion are involved in induction and so on all the way around. But
I deny that this factual involvement means logical identification.
This denial seems to Mr. Buermeyer to imply going back upon that
belief in the intimate relation of psychology and logic which is the
essence of the pragmatic or instrumental logic. I do not think so.
One might contend that a science of physiology depended upon
ability to detect chemical processes and trace their workings with
respect to all the functions of the organism. Would this cancel the
distinction between breathing and circulation, even if it were shown
that they not merely depend upon each other but that fundamentally
similar chemical reactions were found in both? Function is not a
separate process: to suppose that it is, seems to me the error of all
abstractionism and absolutism. It is, however, a distinctive matter,
for it concerns the results of processes. A man may go from New
York to Chicago and from Chicago to New York upon the same
tracks, in the same car and with the same engineer. But the purpose,
the outcome is different. So is it with induction and deduction. The
more we become aware of the identity of psychological process, the
more the difference in function becomes significant. To ignore this
distinctiveness of Junction because of the unity of act seems to me
to deliver the cause of concrete, psychological thinking into the hands
of the enemy those who assert that all true reasoning is deductive
I take it that Mr. Buermeyer would probably agree with me that the same
thing holds of the general theory of types of order or implications which the
new school substitutes for the old syllogism. As a matter of fact, they also
involve induction.
* If Mr. Buermeyer had carried his criticism to the point of stating that
conclusions appear in every phase of reflective thinking I should also have
agreed with him. It is far from being true (as a chronological interpretation of
iny analysis would infer) that conclusion is postponed till the problem is solved.
We accept or adopt at every point. The difference is in the conditions and
purpose of the acceptance, as is suggested above regarding acceptance of a
hypothesis.
38 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
and that induction is a mere psychological preliminary, important
only in the biography of the individual thinker. I wish that Mr.
Buermeyer would turn his well-loaded guns upon that camp; and
in conclusion I again thank him for the opportunity to make clearer
points which in How We Think were doubtless left in regrettable
obscurity.
JOHN DEWET.
COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY.
THE NERVOUS SYSTEM, PSYCHOLOGICAL FACT OB
FICTION?
SO habituated have we become to the inferior position which
psychology occupies among the sciences that we have become
accustomed to excuse its deficiencies rather than to understand and
correct them. Hence, the tradition continues that psychology deals
with vague and futile materials, not natural facts which can be
described and referred to valid laws. Indeed, it is only with ex-
treme reserve that one grants psychology a place among the natural
sciences at all. Of course it is the psychologist himself who is re-
sponsible for this situation for he is only very slowly prying loose
the facts of his domain from the metaphysical incrustations in which
the centuries have confined them.
The psychologist 's handling of the nervous system is an excellent
case in point. The nervous system, originally brought into psy-
chology as a means of concretizing and interpreting the diaphanous
and fleeting states of mind, has not yet been provided with its
proper place as a component factor in a complex psychological act.
Instead, it is mainly used as a scheme wherewith to handle the
elusive knowings or awarenesses which are still all too prominent
in psychological writings. Although the nervous system is made
to do heavy duty in psychology, as is manifest from even the slight-
est examination of psychological literature, it is only in the case of
reflexes and similar actions that it serves in any sense as a descrip-
tive factor. In practically all other cases the nervous system is
used in psychology merely as an explanatory agent. In the pres-
ent paper an attempt is made to investigate the neural conceptions
prevalent in psychology with the hope that we can thereby suggest
what is factual and what fictitious in these conceptions.
Unfortunately, at present it happens to be true that in general,
whether psychologists use the nervous system as a descriptive fact
as in the study of reflex action, or as an explanatory instrument
in other cases, the results so far as psychology is concerned are
THE NERVOUS SYSTEM 39
equally detrimental. In general, we might say that two distinct
and serious disadvantages are thereby sustained. Not only are the
highly important nervous functions gravely misinterpreted, with
the consequence that the whole psychological act is hopelessly mis-
understood, but, what is probably worse, a barrier is immediately
set up preventing future progress in our interpretation of psy-
chological phenomena.
Briefly, let us examine each of the two uses of the nervous ap-
paratus in psychology, and first the descriptive use of it. When we
describe a reflex or any other act as a neural apparatus or as an
effect of a neural operation we give only a partial description of
the activity. Either we make the nervous apparatus the whole act
to the exclusion of the muscular, glandular and other processes, as
well as the stimulating circumstances, or else, when we include the
muscular, glandular, and other response factors, we still exclude
the stimulating conditions which are no less essential factors in
the whole action. Need we say how inaccurate and useless is the
description of an act when we omit from it any factor, whether it
is muscular, glandular or discriminative? But we might suggest
how seriously inadequate must be an account of a response act from
which is omitted the specification of its differential character and
specific sensitivity to a particular stimulatng object and condition.
To omit the recording of the stimulating conditions of reflex and
other psychological reactions means to seek exclusively in the re-
action phase of the behavior for the mechanism of the event, which
in its essence is an interaction of a complete response with a spe-
cific stimulus.
That the nervous system should ever have been made into the
exclusive materials of a psychological act may be explained by the
great influence of histological and experimental findings upon the
thinking of psychologists. Truly remarkable, of course, are the
coordinating and integrating functions of the nervous apparatus
even when considered as purely physiological (mechanical) func-
tions, but just as certain is it that the narration of how allied and
antagonistic reflexes operate as mere facts of synaptic coordina-
tion gives us a very slight notion of the exact place of the nervous:
apparatus in a psychological action. We meet here with a para-
dox, namely, that the over-emphasis of the neural apparatus in
psychological descriptions, instead of adding anything to our under-
standing of the nervous system, rather deprives us of such an under-
standing, besides inducing us to place a very erroneous interpreta-
tion upon the total psychological act. No one can gainsay that
experimental work on the nervous system is absolutely indispens-
40 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
able for an understanding of psychological reactions, especially of
the simpler sort, but to overlook in such experimentation the prag-
matic neglect of many other essential factors, means to misconstrue
the facts studied. Let us also remember that in all experimental
work the necessity to use simple actions in the laboratory proce-
dure results in an emphasis on the neural 1 factors entirely out of
proportion to their actual place in psychological behavior in general.
Turning now to the employment of the neural apparatus as an
explanatory factor in psychological interpretations, we find that
practically always it serves as a means of supporting a theory of
behavior not actually derived from the observation of such be-
havior. In particular the neural mechanisms are used to uphold
some sort of mentalism; that is to say, the neural apparatus is
seized upon as an appropriate physical counterpart (either paral-
lel, cause, or condition or result) of mental states. Among the con-
ditions presumably explained by the neural apparatus is the
manner in which the "psychic," whether conceived as stuff or proc-
ess, can operate in a factual world. And so the nervous system is
taken to be (1) the tangible counterpart of the intangible psychic;
or (2) it serves merely to fill in the gaps (subconscious and associa-
tion theories) between the functioning of mental (awareness) proc-
esses; (3) or further, it is made to operate as the complete substi-
tution for consciousness in cases where no awareness is presumed
to be present. We will not attempt to rehearse here all of the dif-
ficulties attendant upon the confusion of the nervous system with
mind, which inevitably results from employing a neural explana-
tion in psychology. Suffice it to say that it is our fundamental
conviction that the necessity to look upon the nervous system as an
-explanatory principle for psychological processes is for the most
part owing to a lack of appreciation of the essential fact of psy-
chological phenomena, namely, the interaction of a complex organ-
ized specific response with a specific stimulus.
Many are the specific ways in which the nervous system is used
in explaining so-called mental facts or awareness, and always, we
submit, with hopelessly unsatisfactory results. We take pleasure
in availing ourselves of Holt's excellent discussions 2 of the peculiar
interpretations of the neural functions in mental activity. In
speaking of the relation of automatic or habitual to so-called con-
i We doubt much whether an unbiased judgment would lay greater stress upon
the neural factor than upon the glandular or muscular phases, although it seems
clear that the interrelationship of response with stimulus would suffer in any such
comparison.
* The Concept of Congoioutnett, 1914, Oh. 15. Also this JOURNAL, 1915, VoL
XH, pp. 365-372, 393-409.
THE NERVOUS SYSTEM 41
scious activities he says, "One theory, for instance, has it that the
cerebral cortex is the 'seat of consciousness,' while habituated un-
conscious acts are done by the cerebellum and cord. From which
it follows that when a motion is first learned (for this appears to
be always a conscious process) it is learned by the cerebrum, but
thereafter it is performed by the cerebellum and cord (which
never learned it). A most plausible conception! And thereafter,
since it can be performed either consciously or unconsciously, a
double set of nervous mechanisms is maintained in readiness. Or
again, there is a view that 'consciousness' is comparable to resist-
ance, or heat, developed at neural cell or synapse. Unconscious-
ness in a process is attained when the neural path is worn so
' smooth' that no appreciable heat is developed. When, then, an
act has once become automatic it can not be performed consciously,
unless the organism relearns it in a new set of nerves. This patently
violates the facts. ' ' 3 Also, Holt has shown 4 in his analysis of the
drainage theory of McDougall that sometimes the attempt to use
the nervous system as an explanation of awareness results in the
theory that when the nervous mechanism functions least, there is
a maximum of consciousness.
Nor is the case any better with the action theory of Miinster-
berg which Holt himself espouses, for there has never been, nor can
there ever be established any relationship between the nervous
system and any kind of knowing. All such neural theories succeed
only in throwing the nervous system out of its perspective in the
total reaction. No less has this been the case when the nervous
apparatus is considered the basis for the association of ideas, than
when the neural mechanism is assumed to be a basis for conscious-
ness in general. Indeed, in Holt's article from which we have
quoted, we are inclined to believe the spirit of the discussion is op-
posed to the conception that a psychological act is primarily a
neural act or that the activities involved in psychological action
are due to and can be explained by the nervous apparatus involved.
Holt's view when stripped of its traditional neural concretions is
not far from our hypothesis that psychological behavior consists
of the stimulating object or conditions on the one hand, and the
action of the person on the other. Indeed, wherever Holt uses an
illustration, his argument is definitely in accord with our own. "We
deem it most unfortunate that the neural tradition is so strong, since
it induces such aberration in our vision of psychological facts as to
prevent us from describing human behavior as it occurs and inter-
preting it in factual terms.
3 The Freudian Wish, 1915, p. 190.
* The Concept of Consciousness, p. 334.
42 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
We would urge, therefore, that psychology should be emanci-
pated from physiology, for it is only when psychological behavior
is studied as it actually occurs that justice can be done to the
nervous functions as well as to all the other factors in psychologi-
cal phenomena. How troublesome the neuronic theory is may be
judged from the fact that even when psychologists consider that
they are studying responses to stimuli the neural prejudice influ-
ences them to consider all psychological behavior as merely the
integration of reflexes. Two fundamental objections to this proce-
dure may be offered. In the first place, reflex acts belong to the
permanent behavior equipment of the individual and are not capable
of integration ; 8 and secondly, to think of all of our behavior as
reflexes or combinations of reflexes means to overlook the great
variety and complexity of our actual behavior. Especially can
such a conception not do justice in any sense to the complex social,
esthetic, and moral adaptations to our human surroundings. We
wonder if anyone ever seriously considered the nervous system as
such to be of any service in distinguishing between two objects,
to say nothing of a difference between the alternatives of a moral
issue. But it is implied that in simpler cases the nervous system
does perform such functions. Thus, the supporters of the neuronic
theory necessarily overlook the presence in the behavior equipment
of the person of other very important types of acts besides re-
flexes, as well as all the other specific facts of human adaptation
other than neural action. To deny then, that all of our behavior
is reflex in form does not mean in any sense to neglect or deny any
quality or value of reflexes, but merely not to ascribe to them quali-
ties they do not have, nor attribute to them vague and mystic prop-
erties of becoming something else by concretion and aggregation.
For it is inevitable when we make reflexes the basis of every re-
action that we introduce surreptitiously and ad hoc qualities and
conditions which really are not there. An excellent example of
this (because in this matter psychologists follow the physiologists)
is the case of the physiologists who assume that upon the series of
physiological facts which they study there is crudely superimposed
another series which they call psychic.
The neuronic theory, we submit, stands in the way of psychol-
ogists who would develop a concrete science of actual human be-
havior, for such behavior, it need hardly be argued, is essentially
such a comjlex adaptation to conditions that it is unthinkable that
a neural theory could be an explanation of it. Moreover, to cling
In the psychological process of integration we assume that acta lose their
identification in becoming parts of larger acts.
THE NERVOUS SYSTEM 43
to such a theory means to make the reflex act the prototype of
human action. And just here is where the extreme deficiency of
the neural theory appears, for by retaining it as a general means
of explanation we overlook its actual function and value as a com-
ponent in all psychological phenomena.
If, while ourselves rejecting neural explanations of psycho-
logical action, we still seek a justification for the belief in such
reputed explanations, we can find it in the overpowering impulse
to make a rigid and fixed explanation of such utterly important
and exceedingly difficult facts as psychological phenomena are.
How vain is such a quest is clear from the fact that quite aside
from its violation of scientific methodology (namely, to seek the
cause of a phenomenon in a part of itself) we maintain, and with
perfect safety we believe, that a genuinely critical search will
reveal not a single valid principle of explanation which psychology
has derived from physiology although this does not deny, in any
sense, that many valuable psychological principles were worked
out by physiologists. In order not to be misunderstood at
this point let us forthwith distinguish between the useful, nay,
necessary employment of the neural factors as descriptive elements
of actual reaction systems from the useless and pernicious employ-
ment of the neural apparatus as an explanatory process. We pro-
pose with all emphasis to distinguish between (1) the description
of the exceedingly important part which the synaptic coordination
processes as integrative functions play in every reaction system, 6
and (2) the neural structures and functions which are implied to
exist beside the psychological response and to explain it. In plainer
words, let us distinguish between the facts which the neurologist
and nerve physiologist have discovered and verified and the neural
theories which the older psychologists have invented to materialize
their psychism. Let it not be overlooked that we do not deny that
in many cases the psychologists ' imaginary neurology is based upon
a germ of fact. A case in point is the elaboration of the neurologi-
cal fact that the impulse meets with greater resistance at the
synapse than in a nerve trunk, into the fiction that synaptic re-
sistance is the cause or condition of such complex action as remem-
bering or knowing. Such inventions consist primarily, of course,
in the translation of associationistic mechanisms into neural terms.
It is all very well to desire fixed materials of references with
which to secure complex phenomena, but as a matter of fact the
nervous apparatus can not accomplish any such purpose, and pri-
8 Cf. our discussion of the reaction system in this JOURNAL, 1921, Vol. XVIII,
p. 263.
44 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
marily, of course, because there does not eiist any need to anchor
down psychological facts when we consider such facts to be con-
crete responses to stimuli, as indeed they are. We cheerfully ad-
mit, as we have previously observed, that for extreme mentalists
or spiritualists the neural mechanisms do serve as stable supports,
but who, we might ask, would be willing to accept a type of psy-
chology needing such support?
To test our proposition concerning the negative value of neural
mechanisms in the interpretation of behavior we might consider
the case of the child learning to keep his finger away from the
burning candle. In particular, we might study Holt's neural inter-
pretation, since this is one of the most recently formulated views
based upon a mercilessly severe criticism of other neural explana-
tions. After rejecting the Meynert scheme which James has made
into a classic, Holt assumes that the child is endowed with two re-
flexes, one for extension and the other for retraction. Now the
explanation consists in positing a greater "openness" and "wear-
ing down" of the second or retractive path so that it will operate
in preference to the first. But even if we agree to overlook en-
tirely the absolutely hypothetical character of the "openness" and
"wearing down" of paths, must we not assume, if the two reflexes
are present, that both pathways are already open and worn down!
Yet Holt finds it necessary to explain how the second or retraction
path is opened and worn down relatively more. This explanation
which he offers is twofold. In the first place, he asserts that the
prolonged pain which the child suffers continues the retraction
stimulus for a long period, thus causing the path to wear down.
And in the second place, he suggests that just as the first five
pedestrians across a snow-covered field do more than the next
twenty-five toward making a path, so the passage of a first nervous
impulse over a path of high resistance wears it down more than
the same impulse would wear an already opened tract. 7
As to the first point, what does Holt mean by pain t Not a men-
tal something, let us hope. For if he does, he not only abjures the
necessity for explaining anything, since by admitting mentalities he
need merely associate with pain an "idea of retraction" as in the
original Meynert scheme, but he also involves himself in the far
worse situation that he can never demonstrate the connection be-
tween such a mental state and a nervous mechanism, to say nothing
at all of how such a mental state can wear down a neural path. On
the other hand, if he means a pain reaction, that is to say, a response
in which the person discriminates pain, then the pain reaction clearly
T The Freudian With, p. 69.
THE NERVOUS SYSTEM 45
can be a stimulus to the child to learn to withdraw his hand from
the candle flame. But in this case, of course, the learning consists
of the acquisition of a complete reaction system and not the wearing
down of a path in the nervous system.
And now let us examine the second part, namely, that the retrac-
tion path is worn down more because it is a new path. Here again
it is difficult to see why the retraction path is new, since Holt assumes
the two reflexes to be present. And as to establishing a balance
between the two, 8 in what sense is that learning to keep the finger
out of the flame when in fact the balance means merely that both
acts will be performed. That is to say, each time the child puts his
finger into the flame he will also withdraw it. No, Holt must cleave
to the notion of a greater openness of the second path, and not
merely a balance between the two, but, even if we allow that the
retraction path is new and that a new path is opened more at first,
how is Holt's problem any nearer a solution? What more can hap-
pen with the retraction path than that it reaches the condition of
the extension path when the latter first began to be used.
To us the entire explanation is exceedingly fantastic, and for the
reason, we might suggest, that Holt is attempting to make the entire
learning a neural affair, 9 even to making the stimulating situation
(the pain reaction) a factor in the neural process. Were it not for
the faith in the neural theory as an explanatory mechanism it is
doubtful whether both reactions would have been considered reflexes
at all. Now if we are correct in assuming that Holt's handling of
the neural theory is as effective as any, then we mean to suggest the
possible incapacity of any of them to account for psychological facts.
Very differently is the learning explained on the organismic-
response 10 and stimulus basis. As a matter of fact, although it makes
little difference for the explanation, we need not consider the first or
extension act as a reflex. Be that as it may, we consider the act to be
present and because the result is disastrous or unsatisfactory (pain-
ful) we observe a new act to be built up. We assume that the with-
drawing action constitutes a new response built up for adaptation
to the candle as a consequence of the previous reaction to that candle
and in addition to the retraction reflex. In other words, there is
a new behavior segment established in which the candle constitutes
the stimulus. It is the acquisition of this reaction system which
constitutes the learning.
s Il>id., p. 72.
At this point 'he is not living up to his promise in the criticism of neural
theories.
10 The term organismic is used to point out the absolute inseparability of the
stimulus and response factors in a psychological action.
46 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
We assume that in the second or new behavior segment, the child
discriminates the stimulus differently or has developed a new mean-
ing for the candle flame, a new meaning in the sense that a new dif-
ferential response is called out by it. This is the essential fact in all
perceptual activities. Instead of perceiving the object as something
to touch, it is now something that hurts and must be (is) left alone.
The essentially perceptual phase of the new behavior segment is a
vestigial or incipient performance of the previous reaction, which
precedes a final overt response the withdrawal of the hand or some
other mode of action. Especially must we guard here against any
implication that the candle flame in the second behavior segment
calls out an "idea" of the burn as in the Meynert- James scheme.
No such factitious element is in any sense involved in our exposition.
The strictly perceptual phase of the behavior segment is an act of
the person in precisely the exact form as in the first instance. More-
over, the perceptual act is not in any sense merely a neural mechan-
ism but a complete behavior, although it is true enough that it is not
as open to the spectator's observation as the first act. Also we must
observe that in the candle-flame situation the perceptual act happens
to be a visual response ; that isi to say, a reaction system in which the
primary receptor is ocular, although the complete reaction system
does involve in addition tactual factors. The new retraction act,
then, is one in which the child's contact with the candle is visual.
In fact the importance of the new acquisition lies precisely in the
avoidance of any actual touching of the object. But notice, however,
that the learning may be just as effective if the new act involves
auditory or olfactory perception. And finally, we must be very care-
ful not to confuse the anticipatory perceptual reaction system with
the final withdrawal or other response which follows closely upon
the operation of the former.
The importance and value of our hypothesis as compared with
any neural one, of which we take Holt's to be an especially good
example, is further indicated in the fact that it can accomplish two
things which Holt admits his theory can not, 11 namely, (1) account
for all kinds of learning and (2) explain the child's concept of
candle. As to the first, or the explanation of other kinds of learn-
ing, from our standpoint all learning, whether manual (handicraft),
technical (skill, industrial or esthetic), or informational (book learn-
ing) consists of the organization of new behavior segments, that is,
specific responses to specific stimulating objects or conditions. Each
response constitutes the acquisition of a new specific adaptation to
11 The Freudian Wish, p. 74.
THE NERVOUS SYSTEM 47
particular surrounding objects. It is thus that capacities and in-
formation are acquired by the person.
Concepts, from our standpoint are completely implicit or vestig-
ial responses to surrounding objects. In other words, they are the
ordinary perceptual responses so abstracted from the original con-
tact with things through the removal of the stimulating object, that
they are aroused to action through a substitution stimulus. 12 Very
simply explained, then, are the child's concepts of the candle; they
are merely residual responses left over from the original contacts
with the candle, and which can be translated into verbal terms. That
concepts are derived from originally overt contacts with objects no
one will deny, for it is a matter of course that the number and variety
of our concepts depend upon our actual past experiences. Also, the
degree of abstraction of our concepts depends upon whether our
original contacts with the conceived objects were direct (actual) or
indirect (imparted to us through speech or printed matter). Once
more, unless concepts were implicit actions derived from our actual
previous contacts with our stimulating objects, how could it ever be
possible to react to these objects in their absence? To repeat, our
concepts of objects are the reaction systems developed to those
things, which can function relatively independently of them. 13
Some there are who will still persist in the criticism that after
all the organism ic hypothesis affords us no intimation as to why
reaction systems are built up as responses to stimulation objects.
In considering this criticism two points must be carefully distin-
guished, one of which has no answer. If one means by this criti-
cism that we have not specified why it is that any empirically spe-
cific response is developed to a particular stimulus, we might answer
that in our argument we assumed that any given stimulating situa-
tion would necessarily call out an adaptive reaction correlated with
that situation; since, further, we fundamentally assume that psy-
chological reactions are phenomena of adaptation. But observe
that the stimulating situations are not the exclusive conditions for
the building up of particular reactions. Another very important
set of conditions is found in the previous psychological development
of the organism, and a by no means negligible circumstance is the
biological organization of the individual. Nor do all of these in
their aggregate exhaust the conditions for the acquisition of reac-
tion systems; there are many others if only we devote ourselves to
a study of psychological phenomena under the factual conditions
of their development and occurrence. Most fortunate the day when
Cf. Kantor, " An Objective Interpretation of Meanings," Am. Jour. Pty.,
1921, Vol. XXXn, pp. 231 sq.
is Through substitution of stimuli, as we have said above.
48 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
psychologists will give up the ideas that psychological phenomena
are simple or that they can be reduced to such partial explanatory
terms as are involved in the nervous mechanism. Observe, how-
ever, that whatever explanation there be for the acquisition of our
particular reactions, it can not exist otherwise than in the study of
concrete behavior segments.
On the other hand, if one takes the import of the criticism we
have mentioned to be that we do not know how reaction systems
are built up at all, we can only question the legitimacy of the ques-
tion. We take it that we are no more obliged to explain why psy-
chological organisms have their specific properties (for we may
assume the fact of building up reaction systems as a quality of the
organism) than the physicist is required to explain why bodies fall.
Not that we would restrict any speculation based upon fact and
the criteria of logic, but we do insist that whatever we believe and
assert concerning psychological phenomena must be in accord with
observable fact and in harmony with the logic of science. In point
of fact, is it not obvious that the criticism just discussed is urged
entirely in the interest of a neural explanation, which we of course
take to be something different from a psychological description T
Next to the misinterpretation of the entire reaction, by far the
greatest damage sustained by psychology from the neuronic theory
is the retardation in the understanding of the actual function of
the neural factors of reaction systems. If it is true, as we be-
lieve, that in much of current psychological work an erroneous
use of the nervous apparatus is made, then it appears plausible
that we are not acquiring all the information we should concern-
ing the actual operation of that important component of all re-
actions. Surprisingly little is yet known of the exact workings of
the neural mechanisms, and since numerous are the facts to be
known it therefore behooves us to let no false hypothesis prevent
us from investigating neural mechanisms as actual phases of be-
havior, that is to say as exceedingly complex coordinating systems,
and not as causes of acts or counterparts of invented mentalities.
Not untrue is it to say, then, that the organismic hypothesis is
presented in the interest of an emended conception of the relation-
ship between psychology and biology. Instead of considering bio-
logical phenomena as merely explanatory schemes for psychology, 14
we must study the physiological facts with which psychology is
concerned as actual and essential components of a larger adapta-
tion process, namely, the psychological response. No latitude is
"The reader will recall that among the first achievements of " biological
psychology ' ' was the redefinition of ' ' consciousness " as a thing or process de-
veloped to maintain the life of animals.
BOOK REVIEWS 49
allowed us in this matter at all, and we dare not omit any physio-
logical fact, because it is just a fact of nature that all psychologi-
cal organisms are biological organisms also. This truth, of course,
should offer no inducement to the psychologist to use physiological
facts or fables to explain the phenomena of his scientific domain.
Nor is this evil necessary in any sense when we study psychological
responses as definite autonomous events existing in nature. Of
course, if we consider the phenomena of psychology to be correlates
or adjuncts of physiological facts we must frequently resort to the
magical use of the nervous system. But regardless of how easily
the words cortical and cerebral roll from the tongue of the psychol-
ogist when he wishes to explain some mentalistic fact, 15 the neurol-
ogist still can not find in the cortex any of the magical conveni-
ences which the psychologist requires. 16 For example, there has
never been any neural machinery discovered to account either for
the existence or the association of mentalistic ideas. 17
Finally, we must not be misled by the overlapping of some of
the psychological data with biological facts into distorting such data
by the indulgence in general physiological explanations; for in
the first place, psychological phenomena are no more physiological
than they are physical, and in the second place, the argument that
psychology is based on physiology is no more valid than the argu-
ment that all sciences, because they are human phenomena, are
based upon sociology. The only valid scientific procedure is to
accord full recognition to any facts that we study without attempt-
ing violently to transform them into something else.
J. E. KANTOB.
INDIANA UNIVERSITY.
BOOK REVIEWS
Christianisme et Neo-Platonisme dans la Formation de Saint Angus-
tin. CHARLES BOYER. Paris : Gabriel Beauchesne. 1921.
L'Idee de Verite dans la Philosophic de Saint Augustin. CHARLES
BOYER. Paris : Gabriel Beauchesne. 1921. Pp. 233.
We have bracketed these two treatises, not merely because they
15 An explanation that frequently takes the form of thin king that specific
brain cells are connected in some way with particular thoughts.
iIn similar fashion when the physiologist hits upon some fact which th
mere study of neural mechanism does not and can not explain he utters the magic
word ' ' consciousness. ' '
if Cf. Herriek, Introduction to Neurology, 1920, Ch. 20. While we can not
accept in the slightest Bergson 's metaphysical substitution for the neuronic theory
(cf. Matter and Memory) we must nevertheless commend his excellent exposure of
the defects of that theory.
50 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
are the work of the same author, but because they bear upon two
distinct phases of a very large theme and serve admirably to deepen
our appreciation of one of the most notable and dominating char-
acters in the early development of western European thought. The
modern world, or that portion of it, at least, which takes little im-
mediate interest in the successive philosophic positions of Latin
Christianity, has drifted a long way from St. Augustine and the
speculations that made him so commanding a figure in the course of
the centuries even among thinkers who have had no obvious concern
with theology. Scholars like Picavet, or Harnack, or Loofs, may call
attention to particular phases of his genius, and a group of students
here and there may read and note, but, on the whole, interest in
his writings has flagged, and he remains for the philosophic world at
large, even in centers that are supposed to cultivate a tradition of
familiarity with his views, one of that great brotherhood of authors
who are more written about than read. Yet he is as actual and com-
pelling in his wistful outlook on the mystery of things as Plato or
Aristotle, and more modern, if less didactic, than Thomas of Aquin
himself.
M. Boyer, one may be sure, is persuaded of all this; yet his
first treatise, in spite of many an apparent statement to the contrary,
limits the scope of his essays to two distinct points which he develops
with a precision and an economy of argument that is as scientific
as it is conciliating and restrained in tone from first to last. In the
earlier volume he traces the story of the retreat at Cassisiacum, and
maintains, against Boissier, Harnack and Loofs, and notably against
Thimmes, to name only the more distinguished scholars with whom
he takes issue on this point, that it was to Catholic Christianity, and
not to Neo-Platonism, that the mind of Augustine yielded itself
in the famous garden scene that took place at Milan in the month
of September, 386. The succeeding nine years were years of develop-
ment; but they were years of orientation, too; for they were the
years of a neophyte who felt perhaps too confidently that he had
discovered in the Neo-Platonic School a rational support for the
change in his mental outlook that his "conversion" had inevitably
forced upon him. The Confessions that all the world knows and
the Dialogues, a purely philosophical work of absorbing interest
and great beauty, in spite of the note of youth that pulses through
it, furnish the ground of this contention. They simply will not
bear the interpretation that the critics mentioned above have put
upon them; and M. Boyer 's pages literally bristle with subsidiary
fact and text in corroboration of this more reasonable conclusion.
In the subsequent work, L'Idee de Verite dams la Philosophic
BOOK REVIEWS 51
i
de Saint Augustin, published soon after La Formation, M. Boyer
touches upon matter that is more actual to the present-day student
of philosophy. Realist, Conceptualist, Pragmatist, Bergsonian, or
Neo-Scholastic, each one of us has his metaphysic some of us,
perhaps, a meta-metaphysic on the meaning of Truth; and not a
little depends on the texture of mind with which he approaches the
problem.
In the years before the War there was a good deal of discussion
on the subject, hardly any of it thorough, or profound, unless we
except Mr. H. H. Joachim's really able essay. If the general move-
ment of ideas has since set in other directions, M. Boyer 's study
will not on that account suffer from a lack of timeliness ; for there
is something, not merely fundamental, but ineluctable and far-reach-
ing, in the answers that one gives to these questions in limine. One's
mental states, the quality of one's assents, one's ultimate infer-
ences, these things are involved in them from the start. All this
was felt as acutely in St. Augustine's day as in our own. The pre-
vailing skepticism borrowed a certain tone and eclat from the
brilliant thinkers against whom the contra Academicos libri ires
were directed from the villa at Cassisiacum. Truth, after all, was
a discoverable thing; and the great neophyte was determined to
bring that assurance home to the inquirers of his time. Reducendi
mihi videntur homines . . . in spem reperiendae veritatis, he wrote
in 386. It was an ambition in every way worthy of so tireless and
high-souled a thinker.
M. Boyer sketches for us in lucid outline the general drift of
the argument by which this life-purpose was carried out. He distin-
guishes four different senses in which the word truth is employed by
Augustine throughout his writings. There is, first of all, the com-
mon, or logical, sense which pervades all the more recondite uses of
the term, and which, in a sense, may be said to inspire them. It is
the assertion or affirmation, of that which is, the identification,
namely, of reality with whatever may be affirmed of it. From this
logical sense of the term the transition to its more metaphysical sup-
positions may be inferred. There are three of these: (a) the adequa-
tional sense, as embodied in the relation between the thing and the
idea; () the Logos, or filiative, sense, known only through the
Christian revelation, in virtue of which the Son is the unique and
perfect Expression of the Father; and (y) finally, the graduate
sense, which is to be found only in finite, or derived Reality, and
which is rooted in the measure, or grade, of being that things have
as imaging in their several likenesses, or adumbrations, the primary
reality which gives them their measure of truth. It is in this sense
52 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
that the Scholastics, later on, maintain with Aquinas that things are
true in proportion to their being; maxime vera sunt maxime entia.
That St. Augustine in his various expositions of this aspect of the
truth of things laid himself open to grave misapprehension in after
times, many a chapter in the Summa contra Gentiles, to say nothing
of the various Schools of Ontologism in the last century, abundantly
proves. M. Beyer, though but a modest beginner, is to be con-
gratulated on this really dignified and scholarly piece of work.
C. C. CLIFFORD.
COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY.
Dieu Son Existence et sa Nature. F. R. GARRIGOU-LAORANGE, des
Freres Precheurs. Paris: Gabriel Beauchesne. 1915. Pp. 770. 1
Let us say frankly at the outset that the delay in noticing this
work of the distinguished Thomist and Professor at the Angelical,
whose name is not as well known to American students of philosophy
as it ought to be, is out of all proportion to its merits which are many
and satisfying to a marked degree. The author describes his book,
in a challenging sub-title, as a Solution Thomiste des Antinomies
Agnostiques. Whether the class of students to whom we venture to
recommend it for consultation, if not for exhaustive reading, will
agree with this initial claim will depend, of course, on his previous
equipment and his general attitude towards the more fundamental
problems of epistemology. The work, in spite of its bulk, is pro-
fessedly a text-book, with a text-book's inevitable limitations; but it
will be found to be a very stimulating and wholesome contribution
to many a more pretentious effort notwithstanding that fact. On
not a few of the problems that the late Professor William James
tried to illuminate in his own inimitable and engaging way, F.
Garrigou-Lagrange speaks with compelling attention, and, be it add-
ed, with a courage as refreshing as that of the great Harvard teacher
himself. As might be expected, the range of subjects touched upon
in the course of the work is almost as extensive as the history of west-
ern thought itself; but the subjects themselves are pressing, actual
and modern, as the array of foot-notes and long citations, embodied
candidly in the text, makes clear. Perhaps the chief merits of the
book are its downright attitude towards those Kantian strictures on
causality which so obsess the modern student of thought, and its ob-
vious acquaintance with the philosophic literature of our time.
C. C. CLIFFORD.
COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY.
1 The book is now in its third edition.
JOURNALS AND NEW BOOKS 53
Values, Immediate and Contributory. MAURICE PICARD. The New
York University Press. 1920. Pp. vi + 197.
While primarily concerned with maintaining certain theses on
specific and technical points of value theory, this little book has a
much wider appeal. It is at once too limited in scope and technical
in treatment to afford the general introduction the present state of
the subject makes so desirable, but it formulates and discusses some
of the chief problems which such a book must take into account.
Part I. deals acutely and lucidly with questions of analysis, origin
and interrelation of values. Part II., perhaps somewhat less suc-
cessfully, with the normative aspects of the problem. Mr. Picard
takes a definite standpoint. He describes himself as a Pragmatist
with certain reservations. But this prevents him neither from tak-
ing seriously, nor from understanding up to a point the philos-
ophy of absolute values which he is called upon to criticize.
Mr. Picard sets himself the task of settling a dispute which has
long occupied students of value theory, namely the relation of in-
trinsic and instrumental, or of immediate and contributory values
to each other. "My whole thesis," he says, "assumes that there
are two classes and that they are of coordinate rank." Everything
with which conscious activity comes into contact is valuable from
both the contributory and immediate points of view. But it is only
the contributory values that are objective. His position may be
described as a polemic against the subordination of instrumental to
intrinsic values, and against the supposed objectivity of intrinsic
values. Starting with points that are matters of general agreement,
namely that all contributory values are objective, some immediate
values are subjective, his own conclusion is that all immediate values
are subjective (p. 4).
It is with the second part of his polemic that the larger part of
the book is concerned. The disproof of immediate objective values in
the three spheres of morals, esthetics and logic is necessary, but it
becomes of the first importance to disprove the theory that truth
is an immediate value. For the general question "Windelband 's
theory of norms is taken, for the more specific, Kickert's theory
of truth. Mr. Picard has done a useful service in his con-
scientious critical study of these two value philosophies, a genuine
understanding of which, especially of the latter, is signally lacking
in American philosophy. There is nothing distinctively new in this
criticism, and his apparent lack of acquaintance with the 1915 edition
of Rickert's Oegenstand der ErJcentniss unfortunately vitiates much
of his criticism so far as it applies to that writer. He charges both
64 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
philosophers with inconsistency and errors of method and in that
charge he is undoubtedly to a degree justified. The element of psy-
chologismus in both of them has been pointed out repeatedly.
Rickert, he finds, adopts the position that truth and reality depend
upon a transcendental Sollen, but he assumes the knowledge of cer-
tain facts, psychological, in order to prove this dependence. Windel-
band does the same thing. Yet to show internal inconsistency and
error in method does not disprove the truth of the position, and it can
not be said that Mr. Picard has disproved it. Indeed, in one place
he says (p. 177), "our attack is not so much an attack on the theory
that there are objective norms of thinking, feeling, willing, as an
attack on the attempt to demonstrate the existence of such norms
from psychological data." As to the charge of inconsistency and
error of method, Rickert at least escapes it, in my opinion, in the
more objective method of his later book. In any case this psycholo-
gismus is not inherent in the position, as I have elsewhere attempted
to show.
On the other hand, Mr. Picard 's positive contention that all ob-
jective values are contributory and do not depend upon immediate
or intrinsic values for their objectivity, leads to some curious con-
sequences. "Strange as it may seem," he writes, "the judgment
that a vase is immediately beautiful will be found to be of contribu-
tory value" (p. 17). Apparent judgments of objective intrinsic
value retain their objectivity by being forced, in pragmatic fashion,
into the instrumental mold. This is possible, I think, only by a
confusion, inherent in all pragmatic discussions of this question, of
instrumental (in the sense of objective relation or means to ends)
with contributory (in the sense of adding to the functioning of con-
scious activity). It is in this latter sense only that all judgments
of value may be said to be contributory. This confusion of the judg-
ment of value as contributory with the judgment of contributory
value leads, of course, to the denial of judgments of immediate value.
Mr. Picard thinks that such judgments are only apparent and due
merely to the fact that "it is possible to use the cognitive function
of conscious activity to express in thought and language facts of
immediate value." The "value judgment" is a large question into
which we can not go here. It must suffice to recall the main conten-
tion of the opponents of his view namely, that value, as merely
felt and not acknowledged in judgment, is not a value in any philo-
sophical sense. It is merely a psychological fact, a part of existence.
In this concluding chapter Mr. Picard leaves the way open for
a philosophy or metaphysics of value in a fashion which, while per-
JOURNALS AND NEW BOOKS 55
haps not wholly consistent with his Pragmatism, is none the less
admirable. In this connection it may perhaps be permitted to take
note of the author's reference to the present writer in his preface.
The " subjective point of departure," the "psychological position,"
ascribed to me applies only to an early work specifically designed
to introduce the English-speaking public to that phase of value
theory. That this scarcely represents my present position must be
obvious to those who have followed the later developments in this
field. Insistence upon my present "objective, non-psychological"
point of view has value in this connection only because this develop-
ment in the present writer's thought is typical of a fairly constant
tendency in value theory as a whole. WILBUR M. URBAN.
HANOVER, N. H.
JOURNALS AND NEW BOOKS
SCIENTIA. October, 1921. The Part played ly different
Countries in the Development of the Science of Radioactivity (pp.
257-270): ROBERT W. LAWSON (Sheffield). -A history of radio-
activity researches, with some closing remarks on the question of
national contributions. The major contributions havg been British,
the most numerous German, then follow France, Austria, and
America. Le probleme de la luminosite du del nocturne (pp. 271-
278) : CHARLES FABRY (Paris). -A curiously interesting paper. A
diffused light is responsible for the degree of illumination we find
in the night sky. Though this light is only a five-hundred-millionth
of the intensity of sunlight, yet were it not for this light, we should
be able to perceive with the naked eye stars of the eighth magni-
tude, or ten times as many stars as we now perceive. The origin
of this diffused light, whether from particles in nearby space, from
faint auroras in our atmosphere, or from untold billions of indi-
vidually invisible stars, is still a mystery. L' association des idees
dans les reves (pp. 279-296) : ERNESTO LUGARO (Turin). -Dreams
are neither mere associations of ideas following old channels nor
the symbols for hidden desires. In dreams the emotions are stilled.
The abundant originality which characterizes the sensory picture-
show of the dream world has never been sufficiently emphasized.
Though there is almost total incoherence to the succession in time,
a dream taken at a given moment may present sensorially a wonder-
fully rich and coherent picture. Buts et resultats coloniaux de la
guerre mondiale. I. Les resultats politico-territoriaux (pp. 279-
308) : GENNARO MONDAINI (Rome). -This first article is little more
than a compendium of facts concerning the colonial growth of Eng-
56 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
land, France, and Japan due to the war. Reviews of Scientific
Books and Periodicals.
Brandt, Lilian. How Much Shall I Give T New York : The Frontier
Press. 1921. Pp. xi +153.
Brunswig, Alfred. Einfuhrung in die Psychologic. (Philosophische
Reihe, herausgegeben von Dr. Alfred Werner, 34 band.) Munich :
Rosl & Cie. 1921. Pp. 164. M. 15.
Bruhn, W. Glauben und Wissen. Leipzig and Berlin: B. G. Teub-
ner. 1921. Pp. 108.
Eastman, Max. The Sense of Humor. New York: Charles Scrib-
ner's Sons. 1921. Pp. 257.
Harrison, Jane Ellen. Epilegomena to the Study of Greek Religion.
Cambridge University Press. 1921. Pp. 40.
NOTES AND NEWS
PROFESSOR JAMES JOHNSTONE read a paper on "The Limitations
of the Knowledge of Nature" at a recent meeting of the Aristotelian
Society. He held that a candid and impartial survey of the specula-
tive biology of the late nineteenth and twentieth centuries must force
one to the recognition of a two-fold passage of nature. According
to the fundamental concept of physical science, the second law of
energetics, viz., the augmentation of entropy, physical change tends
continually to diminution. The universe, to use Bergson's term, is
detending. To the biologist there is another aspect, for life is the
incessant attempt of certain physico-chemical systems to resist the
increase of entropy. The difficulty in accepting the main result of
generalized relativity in biology is that for speculative physiology
space-time can not be completely isotropie. More especially is this
so if with Bergson we regard the quality of duration as the cumula-
tive continuity of life. It is a passage as well as the persistence of
that which has passed. The conclusion of the paper was that we
must regard Newton's "ocean of truth" as amorphous in structure.
The relations that are to be discovered in it are only in it in the sense
that they come into existence with the thought that makes the relation.
Dr. H. H. Bawden, of San Ysidro, San Diego Co., California,
informs us that he is disposing of his library, and will be glad to
correspond with those who may be interested. Among his books he
has an unbroken file of the JOURNAL OP PHILOSOPHY, which he values
at $90.
VOL. XIX, No. 3. FEBRUARY 2, 1922
THE JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
ON THE METHOD OF METAPHYSICS
~TT\ VERY metaphysical theory, whatever its type, gives primary
-GJ importance to one pair of contrasted concepts. In fact we
can define metaphysical thinking as that which follows the making
of this distinction, and which attempts to make explicit the full
meaning of these two concepts and their relation to each other. The
discrimination is commonly expressed as that between the actual
and the apparent, or between the existent and the seeming, or be-
tween the real and the phenomenal. We shall employ another term
which has some important advantages, and shall express the distinc-
tion as between the real and the given. We wish to know the nature
of the real; but we do not get that knowledge easily and directly:
we must begin with something short of it, and must approach it
through an earlier acquaintance with something which is original
datum. If we hope to reach a general comprehension of reality we
must found it upon the character of the given. Data of some kind
are necessary material for any significant theory. We accept tM
as true in every science; and metaphysics is not exempt from the
same condition. Indeed a recognition of this fact is of primary im-
portance for an understanding of the method which should be fol-
lowed.
From this underlying distinction it seems to follow quite clearly
that any complete and acceptable doctrine should have two distinct
parts, which we shall briefly characterize and then discuss more in
detail.
First of all the theory must offer some account of the given simply
as such. This part of a metaphysics would be entirely free, in an
ideally successful case, from anything hypothetical. Certain data
must be possessed, and must be granted as a foundation, if any
ontological structure is to be raised at all. A statement of this
original material ought to be possible without the admixture of
any speculative and dubious factors. The natural scientists have
accustomed us to a requirement of this kind. An impartial state-
ment of any facts which are to be explained is a proper introduction
to the statement of some theory which undertakes to make these facts
more intelligible. In the problem of color-vision, for instance, there
is a collection of phenomena which can be stated quite independently
57
58 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
of any theory which may be held concerning the retinal process.
If the data were not formulated in the first place, without any
speculative interpretation being allowed to slip into the account,
the difficulty of finding an adequate theory would of course be im-
mensely increased. This same ideal should hold in metaphysics.
However difficult it may be in practise, the first aim should be a
strictly non-hypothetical expression of the data from which the rest
of the doctrine must be developed.
The second part of a valuable metaphysics must deal, on the
contrary, chiefly with hypotheses. The datum is what it is, and we
may suppose that its essential traits can be expressed. But our
problem began by assuming it to be contrasted with something we
name the real. A metaphysics could have no use for the conception
of a reality which would not account at least for the main charac-
teristics of the phenomenal fact; but various realities may be con-
ceivable, each of which would be sufficient to account for these, and
this range of possible alternatives must be examined. If some of the
suppositions which we find ourselves inclined to make, or which
have been urged in historical doctrines, are seriously self-contra-
dictory, then of course that must be made plain : the incoherent must
be simply excluded. If a theory, otherwise coherent, is incompatible
with some part of the given, then that incompatibility must be
observed and the theory must also be excluded. Should only one
hypothesis as to the character of the real be able to survive these tests,
then the demonstration of that fact would bring our ontology to a
liappy ending in a last chapter ; and a last chapter would be a happy
ending in itself. But if, as we shall consider probable, several diverse
suppositions should remain tenable, then the most we can ask from
a metaphysics is a clear statement of main alternative theories, and
a recognition of any non-logical characteristics which may fairly
make one theory preferable to another.
The data which should be formulated and described in the first
part of an ideal theory are of course not to be identified merely
with those experiences which especially arouse us to the problem
of metaphysics. Striking experiences of change, deceived expecta-
tion, the disappearance of something from our world, the discovery
of conflicting beliefs about the general character of the world, all
these challenge us and make necessary the distinction between the
apparent and the actual, the given and the real. In a sense one
might say that these are the special data for the metaphysical
theory to which they impel us. But its original material must in-
clude all that constitutes our experience. And this is not unavail-
able nor remote. There is no great difficulty in becoming aware
of our datum, however difficult its adequate and pure description
ON THE METHOD OF METAPHYSICS 59
may be. The simplest appreciation of it comes when one gives up
all formulating of anything in words: a certain "this" remains,
something which is at least concrete and multifarious. But of course
our formulating is a fact too, as it occurs, and one which must have
its own place in an account of the given. We must allow, or assert,
that some actual interpreting of the data is itself a part of the data.
But we can hardly deny that the possibility of reaching a metaphys-
ical conclusion depends on our having something to interpret. With-
out a determinate material, which could be expressed as empirical
fact, the terms phenomenal and real would be equally meaningless.
And to say what this material is, without prejudice to any hypo-
thesis of a more inclusive and trans-empirical reality, is the first
problem of metaphysics.
If a description of the given is to be accomplished at all it must
be obtained by some process of discrimination and analysis. Any
account which purports to be descriptive of something concrete and
individual presupposes that abstractions are made and a dissection
performed. The possibility of this analysis, this discrimination of
factors or traits, is difficult to deny in respect to anything which
is in a.ny way deseribable. Even a Bergsonian reality, which is
asserted to be not portrayable as a complex, can still be significantly
described by such various adjectives as continuous, active, tense,
and so on. And other theories which undertake to deny that com-
plexity can be accurately predicated of the real, allow nevertheless
that the phenomenal world permits discrimination and has at least
''main aspects" which accurate thinking must recognize.
Any understanding which proceeds by distinguishing and by
abstracting must aim at some set of "primitive ideas" in which the
analysis could terminate. If the analysis is expressed, some set of
ultimate terms must be assumed, individually undefined but mak-
ing others definable. So the most non-hypothetical account of the
data of metaphysics must require some collection of concepts which
are supposed simple, and which are obtained by a process of abstrac-
tion performed on the data themselves. We are inclined to believe
that there must be some one particular analysis which is the single
and only right means to an adequate comprehension of whatever is
being analyzed. But there seems little to support this supposition.
We ought not to take for granted, nor even to expect, that a meta-
physics should contain only a single description of the given, and
that it should be able to exclude every other description as faulty.
A plurality of allowable descriptive formulations is the more reason-
able expectation. That several analyses of a given material may
be equally valid and practicable is strikingly illustrated in the field
of symbolic logic. Alternative sets of primitive ideas may be em-
60 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
ployed with equal success, and an idea which is adopted as undefined
and ultimate in one formulation may as properly be treated as
complex and analyzable in another. The simplicity of a concept
is not an intrinsic character which can be read by inspection, but
it is something which the logician postulates after experiment with
various tentative primitives. And in metaphysics we surely ought
to take seriously the suggestion that the data which form our material
may be analyzable with equal validity into more than one set of
ultimate terms, and may be describable in more than one fashion
with equal truth.
One expression of the given, one first broad formulation of it,
would probably pass as acceptable to most common-sense people of
our time. We think there is nothing hypothetical in saying at least
that the given is an experienceable world of nature which includes
our human society. But we must examine how much of this view
can be retained in a statement which undertakes carefully to exclude
all hypothesis; or rather, how far this must be re-phrased and
translated, if its meaning is to be put into a strictly positivistic
expression. Two types of answer may be mentioned, characteristic
of divergent theories of psychology and appearing also in meta-
physical doctrines which have contemporary interest.
The first answer would be : the giyenjsuijifin*nce, and experience
is known without hypothesis or interpretation when it is analyzed in-
to an order of simple qualities. All that common-sense finds as fact is
held by this psychology to be accurately describable in this fashion,
even of course one's own process of observing and analyzing. This
kind of psychological analysis is evidently employed in Russell's
theory of the physical world, with its doctrine of "particulars" and
of the humorously named ' ' official biographies. ' ' His elaborate hypo-
thesis of perspectives and ordered classes of private spaces is thus
actually based on it. But, once this qualitative analysis of expe-
rience has been admitted as valid of sense-perceptions, the other data,
which he adopts in addition to the particulars, become also subject
to the same possible treatment. The experience of being acquainted
with a universal, for instance, is part of an actual biography too
and is describable in the terms of this psychology.
The second type of answer is that which appears in the behaviorist
psychology, rejecting the qualitative analysis of the given and mak-
ing its own description in the terms of biological science. The
philosophical theory represented by Dewey's Reconstruction in Phi-
losophy stands on this ground also. In the reconstructed description
of "experience," we are told, "the interaction of organism and
environment ... is the primary fact . . . ." That the datum is
of this biological sort is not merely one hypothesis among others,
ON THE METHOD OF METAPHYSICS 61
nor a hypothesis adopted simply because it is verified in use. For
the nature of verification itself is explained, in this philosophy, in
terms of the adaptive responses of organisms. This biological form-
ulation is not offered as a useful speculative interpretation of some
data which could be properly described without recourse to any
such speculation ; it is presented as a merely descriptive expression
of the data themselves.
If there is any force in the suggestion that several non-hypothet-
ical accounts of the given may be possible, the disparate character
of these two types of description should not be taken as proving
that at least one of them is wrong. But some quite different set
of primitive ideas may be more successful. An account of the given
which would put the term self among the undefined ultimates is
surely a competitor with the others. The whole problem is still
open, and although uncertainty as to the allowable formulations
of the data upon which a metaphysics must rest is undesirable
enough, at any rate there is nothing to be gained at present by
merely assuming that only one formulation is allowable.
We have been taking for granted that the given is something
within which various abstractions can be made, and which permits
of such analysis as this implies. Without this character the pos-
sibility of analytic comprehension and of description would of course
be lacking. And when we ask that our metaphysics should contain a
purely descriptive part, we make an a priori determination of the
given to this extent.
But it is not subject to any such elaborate predetermination as
is the phenomenal world in a Kantian theory. All Kant's argument
proceeds as the analysis of a certain concept of experience ; and this
concept is simply postulated. If we postulate the occurrence of a
certain type of knowing-of-objects, if we make this our fundamental
fact and datum, or in other words if we assume that the datum is to
be described as a knowing of a specified kind, then indeed we can ob-
tain some a priori characteristics of objects knowable in this way.
The summary description of the experience can be expanded into
a series of analytic judgments which merely make explicit the pecul-
iarities of this postulated knowing ; and from these judgments we can
deduce some of the characteristics which must be possessed by
anything which can be known in this particular fashion. But such
assertions as that all experienceable objects must be temporal and
spatial, and must consist of something which endures through all
change, are in this case merely drawn out of the postulated character
of the process concerned, and are analytic judgments. There is no
way whatever of compelling any one to agree that the given is
actually an object-knowing of this specified type. One can express
62 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
what one finds the given to be, and if it is finally formulated as a
something-known-in-a-specified-way, then the concept of this type
of experience can be analytically expressed. But the occurrence
of this particular kind of experience is entirely a question of fact.
If we assume that a purely descriptive account of the given is
possible, we still have to consider how wide a range of significance
could be claimed for the primitive ideas required in it. They would
have one meaning as abstractions from the given fact itself. Is it
possible that they would have also a much larger application t Could
they be used to give us some knowledge of a trans-empirical reality,
perhaps of one from which the given would be logically derivable!
It is fairly clear that we could not attribute any such importance
to these ideas. Suppose that an analysis of the merely given had
been completed, and that a collection of terms had been reached
which were adopted for that description as undefined and simple.
In some other description they might conceivably be considered as
complex and analyzable; but so long as we stick to any single
description we could not treat any one of them as a possible source
of others. It is not possible that any final term in a systematic
formulation of the given could be taken as the concept of a meta-
physical entity from which the concrete given would follow as a
logical implication. The complex concept of the phenomenal fact
can not be deduced from any item which a purely descriptive ex-
pression of the phenomenal may require: the analysis of the given
can not disclose any logical source of it. Within experience we
can not find any origin of experience. No concept obtained in the
abstraction-process could be known to have any applicability except
within the given itself. And, if our metaphysics is to contain any-
thing more than a purely descriptive expression of the phenomenal,
that additional content must be essentially hypothetical and specu-
la^ve.
There is no obligation which would compel a person to carry his
theory of the given beyond a simply positivistic description such as
we have been supposing. And there is no obligation to attempt even a
description. Abstractions are required by any one who wishes to
know abstractly ; but without that purpose they are not required at
all. It might be objected, in behaviorist terms, that abstractions
are required constantly by any organism which is to survive, since
selective responses are a condition of its keeping alive. But we need
not commit ourselves to this biological description. And we may be
sure that the mm-occucrence of a conceptual understanding would
not annihilate the given. The mystics have a right to imagine this
absence of abstract comprehension, and to produce it so far as they
can. If the resulting experience is enlightening, however, the en-
ON THE METHOD OF METAPHYSICS 63
lightenment must apparently remain incommunicable : what can not
be conceived can hardly be described.
But the mystic state may be assumed a very rare accomplishment ;
actually we do dissect our world, and do use abstractions in compre-
hending it. Actually, also, we would not be satisfied with a philos-
ophy which consisted in a mere description of phenomena. As meta-
physics begins in the conviction that th^given^is to be distinguished
from the^realjjso we are led to make a hypothetical ^7 t ^Tl g i^ T1 of the
gi\en, and to suppose a more inclusive fact. All metaphysical think-
ing postulates this ; and even the positivists and empiricists have in
fact allowed their accounts of the world to contain a very consider-
able hypothetical element.
A metaphysical theory, then, ought to have a secon^part which
is frankly and explicitly speculative in character. "We can conceive
of various trans-empirical reals; and we can see that there are
degrees of compatibility between these several suppositions and the
phenomena from which we must start. The problem is to determine,
so far as we can, what types of reality would be consistent with the
given as we find it to be, what various kinds of being might have
this actual seeming. So long as we avoid self-contradiction in our
assumptions we may surely use the greatest freedom in tentative
and experimental suppositions, and may assume a reality of any
imaginable extent or variety. There would be more fault in re-
stricting hypotheses to traditional forms than in encouraging the
most unchecked speculation. Men have probably suffered more from
too limited a conception of possibilities than from too credulous an
acceptance of mere speculations.
In the problem of a pure description we were led to suppose
that more than one may be practicable; and in the problem of the
hypothetical interpretation we find a somewhat similar situation.
We take for granted that there is some unique and all-inclusive
reality ; but we should be slow to assume that the gjvjm is sufficient
to carry us very far in determining its character. Certainly for
the present, and while a satisfactory statement of the data is still
in question, we are very far from any narrowly specified concept of
a reality which alone is compatible with them.
There are, broadly, two main divergent developments which a
speculative metaphysical theory may take. In a theory of one type,
of which James's radical empiricism may serve as an instance, the
real is supposed to be immensely more inclusive than the given, yet
is supposed to be simply more of the same sort. The distinction is
between a part and the whole, rather than between one kind of
being and an essentially different kind. The other type of theory
may be illustrated by Berkeley's doctrine of ideas and spirits:
64 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
there is supposed to be a reality which exceeds the given, not merely
by including more of the same variety, but also and especially by
including entities of a radically different kind. A theory of this J
second type is under obvious difficulties in drawing up a description/
of the real or reals which it assumes. The only significant terms'
at its disposal are those which are abstractions from the given; for
the only source of the meaning of our words is in our concrete
experience, and their only assured applicability is to it. But concepts
can be constructed which are not descriptive of anything given, and
they can be supposed to have some kind of trans-empirical signif-
icance.
If this is indeed the situation in metaphysical theory, the pre-
sumption would apparently be that some very different hypotheses
are equally in agreement with all the facts we have. The business
, of our theory is probably to discover the allowable r^ge of sup-
\ positions rather than to prove a certain one finally true. In each
of the sciences we have found that in general the known facts in
some problem limit the number of possible explanations, but do not
establish any single one. There is no evident reason which would
lead us to suppose that metaphysics is in a different case. The
best obtainable result may be a set of mutally exclusive but equally
tenable theories. Take the hypothesis, for instance, that every
event is a required part in the fulfillment of some all-inclusive
design. No actual occurrences can refute this, for any collection
of events is conformable to some purpose or other: a teleological
interpretation is always possible for anything that happens. But
we find also that the contrary hypothesis is at least as tenable,
and that many events may be supposed to have no purposive charac-
ter.
The history of philosophy consists partly in a series of demon-
strations that earlier supposed demonstrations were inconclusive.
But a doctrine which fails to be established may retain some value as
a speculative possibility. We hope, of course, that our data will
lead us to a fairly specific knowledge of the nature of reality : but
we may admit that a group of very diverse hypotheses about it
is more probably accomplishable. One may recall the answer which
Berkeley received to his appeals for the payment of Parliament's
subsidy for his colony. Walpole replied that, speaking as minister,
he could assure him the grant would be paid in due time ; but speak-
ing as a friend he advised him not to count on it.
The material which we try to understand has its own definite
) character, and any ontological suppositions must be adapted "to save
the appearances." The phenomena are the first essential determi-
ON THE METHOD OF METAPHYSICS 65
nant of any hypothesis about the real. But it may be useful to notice
more carefully the relation which exists between the two.
The ideal of any doctrine about reality would be a deductive
system, from which verifiable conclusions could be drawn concerning
phenomena. Verification is not wholly an affair of the future.
Present phenomena are a present criterion. If we can say what is
given we can also prescribe some of the deductions which a satis-
factory system must allow. These inferences are in fact simply
begged and postulated, in advance of any knowledge as to how we
may be able to obtain them. We must assume some real which can
account for the occurrence of exactly this given. We try to find
some way of deriving what we already accept as fact.
This method of reaching a set of principles is commonly dis-
credited. When we discover that a person with whom we are arguing
has already settled on his conclusion, and is merely making a de-
termined hunt for premises which will justify him in holding it, we
are inclined to be scornful of his procedure. We do not easily admit
that we ourselves are given to rationalizing our convictions in this
way; and we condemn the process even when we believe, in some
particular case, that a man practically could not avoid the prejudice
which he displays. We are apt to think that our metaphysics ought
to be free from any trace of such rationalizing. But, in a very
genuine sense, no theory of reality can be free from it. The essential
undertaking is to discover principles from which would follow
facts of the type we find. To understand the world more geometrico
must still be the ideal of philosophy. But the modern theory of
mathematics has shown more clearly what a geometry is ; and another
suggestion for metaphysics may be derived from this work.
Not until recent years has there been an adequate formulation
of the primitive ideas and the postulates which underlie the old
Euclidean geometry. We know now that the postulates of this
geometry are not accepted because they are certain in themselves. If
they are considered to have a superiority over certain other alter-
natives it lies in this, that they permit the deduction of some theorems
which are believed to be more useful than those which would follow
from the other postulates. The theory of relativity, however, now
seems to have shown that the Euclidean theorems are inapplicable
to some physical measurements, and that one of the non-Euclidean
geometries is always applicable. If so, the postulates which go with
this non-Euclidean geometry will be adopted without dispute, or
at least without successful objection. In themselves Riemann's
postulates are not more true nor less true than Euclid's; the truth
value we attach to them is dependent on the practical acceptability
of the theorems they generate.
66 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
A similar situation exists in metaphysics. If we could get a
completed doctrine into systematic form we would place as the
postulates of the system a set of propositions which had been reached
by a process of experimentation and selection. They would not be
given their place in the system because they were intrinsically true
and obviously certain, but simply because they would furnish an
adequate basis for the inference of some propositions which are
simply taken for granted when the theory-making begins. We can
not hope to find any ontological principles which are absolutely self-
evident, which can be recognized at sight, and whose inherent cer-
tainty would guarantee the certainty of their implications. Any
set of assertions about reality would be sufficiently and wholly
justified if they permitted the inference of empirical facts which
we already hold, and led to no inferences which are contrary to
such facts. An illustration may be drawn even from Bergson 's
theory. Suppose we could properly assume that a simple description
of the data already includes these facts : that instinct and intelligence
are two different forms of knowing; that they have reached their
highest development in insects and in men, respectively; that there
is a constant origination of new forms of life ; and that this spatial
world is predominantly but not wholly mechanical. Then the as-
sumption of a vital force such as Bergson describes (of the order of
consciousness, active, tense, able to relax its tension, etc.) would be
plausible just in proportion as it could be seen to involve the occur-
rence of this kind of a world. One may object that those alleged
facts are not merely descriptive of the given, and that they already
contain a hypothetical interpretation of the actual data. But in
Bergson 's argument, one may fairly say, they have the role of data ;
and the only question with which we are here concerned is the kind
of justification which a proposed account of reality could have. If
the data can be accurately formulated then that formulation will
evidently be the touchstone of any ontological doctrine which may
be proposed.
It would be logically possible, as we said, to give up the meta-
physical problem altogether, and not to contrast the given with any-
thing. But if the distinction between it and a reality is maintained,
then the only account which we can produce of that reality must be
hypothetical. A positive description of the given can not lead us
to anything except abstractions made upon it. Analysis can not dis-
cover any factor in it which somehow again contains the original,
and from which it might then be logically deduced. Any theory,
also, of the type which holds that the phenomenal world has its
source in a mind of a certain sort and is constituted by forms
employed by various faculties of this mind, is evidently hypo-
ON THE METHOD OF METAPHYSICS 67
thetical. Like any other hypothesis it must first be tested for internal
coherence: if we deny temporality and causality to this mind we
must consider whether it can be supposed to operate in any way;
and if we assert that no other objects except sensible objects can be
either given or validly conceived, we must consider whether we
can know anything at all about a non-sensible mind. But supposing
that no incoherence has been found in this hypothesis, it must seek
its confirmation like any other candidate, by allowing deductions
which we already accept and which are part of a description of the
given.
The situation which we thus find in metaphysical theory is similar
to that which has recently been developed in logic. The validity
of the classical fundamental certainties, i.e., those propositions whose
denial implies their affirmation, is actually undisputed ; but logically
it is conditional and requires the assumption of a particular set of
postulates for our logic. Other postulates could be adopted which
would not require the truth-value to be assigned to such proposi-
tions; and these other postulates could be used without violation
of consistency as they would define it. The postulates of our actual
logic are accepted because they validate inferences which we con-
sider good, and not because they themselves are separately and in-
dividually indubitable. We have to work backward to discover the
principles which we are actually implying. And the formulatiora
of an adequate set of primitive ideas and postulates for our logic,
although now it has probably been accomplished, is not even yet a
matter of agreement among the symbolic logicians.
In our metaphysics, then, if we can obtain a description of
our data it will serve to limit the number of hypotheses which
can be held concerning the nature of reality; and the deducibility
of the chief characteristics of such data must be the main test
by which any proposed ontological doctrine should be judged. If,
as we have supposed, it should prove possible to make more than one
valid description of the given, we may believe the number of tenable
hypotheses would be thereby still further reduced ; but until we are
more certain about our descriptions we can hardly take for granted
that the specification of reality can be carried very far even in this
fashion. We are not sure how to express the given ; and we are quite
sure, when we stop to consider, that our understanding of the world
is partly an interpretation and a supposition. We realize occasion-
ally that our active beliefs are held in the face of other possible
assumptions which have quite as good a logical standing. It would
be proper, then, for a systematic metaphysics to give some recognition
to the non-logical features by which some hypotheses acquire a
weighted value for us. Two of these may be mentioned. Some
68 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
speculations we discard as wild and extravagant, though we can by
no means show that they are inherently impossible. We take Occam '9
razor as our best implement: not to destroy all hypotheses, but to
insure a comely simplicity among the survivors. At bottom the
motive for this is esthetic. Whatever alternative theories may be
allowed as logically tenable, we admit a differential value of this
kind among them. Furthermore, of two suppositions which are,
so far as we see, in equal agreement with the data, one may be
actually dispiriting and the other may be effectively stimulating.
Hypotheses have what may be called a moral aspect as well as an
esthetic. Great individual differences must be recognized in the
valuations which men make on this score: the whole topic leads off
into psychological problems. But one is justified in holding that a
metaphysical theory may properly take notice of all the main features
which make one ontological hypothesis more acceptable than another.
CHARLES H. TOLL.
AM H ERST COLLEGE.
CRITICAL REALISM
WHEN The New Realism was published, nine years ago, some
observers professed much surprise at the spectacle of phi-
losophers laboring side by side in a common cause, without any
discernible tendency on the part of any one of them to turn upon
and rend his neighbor. Since then, however, the achievement has
"been duplicated in the volume entitled Creative Intelligence; so
that the philosophical public is in process of becoming habituated
to the phenomenon. Whether these joint undertakings are evi-
dence, as some seem to suppose, that philosophy is at last to enter
upon an era of truly objective and rigidly impersonal inquiry,
after the manner of the sciences, or merely that philosophers pos-
sess a hitherto unsuspected capacity for cooperation, is still a ques-
tion upon which it is useless to look for agreement. The latest
volume of this kind is the recent Essays In Critical Realism, 1 the
purpose of which is to expound and defend the realistic faith
which the contributors to the volume hold as a common possession.
As compared with the earlier books, this work offers a compara-
tively simple programme or plan of campaign, in that it is centered
almost exclusively upon the nature of knowing. Five of the seven
essays are devoted to this topic. As is stated in the preface, the
authors have "found it entirely possible to isolate the problem of
i Essays in Critical Ecalism: A Cooperative Study of the Problem of Knowl-
edge. DURANT DRAKE, ARTHUR O. LOVEJOY, JAMES BISSETT PRATT, ARTHUR K.
ROGERS, GEORGE SANTAYANA, ROY WOOD SELLARS, C. A. STRONG. Macmillan & Co.
1920.
CRITICAL REALISM 69
knowledge," so that it is with reference to this problem, as con-
trasted with ontological problems, that the collaborators find them-
selves in essential agreement. In the two remaining essays the
emphasis falls on the side of criticism rather than construction.
The essay by Lovejoy is, in the main, a criticism of Dewey's prag-
matism: and the essay by Rogers is a critical review of various
theories regarding the nature of truth and error. While these
essays contain much that is of interest and importance, they will
be omitted from present consideration, since it is my purpose to
discuss more specifically the doctrine to which the authors have
applied the name of Critical Realism.
As was to be expected, the authors are at considerable pains to
differentiate their position from other forms of realism. This is
done by emphasizing the distinguishing feature of their doctrine
of knowledge. Naive realism, so it is pointed out, made the mis-
take of supposing that physical objects could be intuited directly,
and so found itself unable to deal with certain difficulties, partic-
ularly those arising from the relativity of sense-perception. Copy-
ism escapes from this difficulty, to be sure, but it is obliged to
get over to outer existence by a process of inference, which can
be done only by a tour de force. Neo-realism is an attempt to re-
habilitate the faith of naive realism in the identity of experience
and object, but it is obliged to construct its world out of conceptual
entities or essences, which gives rise to various difficulties, espe-
cially with reference to the problem of truth and error. Each of
these standpoints contains something of value, which it is possible
to conserve through a reinterpretation of knowledge along the lines
laid down by Critical Realism. Naive realism and neo-realism are
correct in insisting that physical objects are known directly and
not through a process of inference. Copyism is correct in holding
that experience and object are numerically distinct and not identi-
cal. The reconciliation and justification of these claims are the
fruits of the new conception of knowledge which constitutes the
distinctive trait of Critical Realism.
Stated briefly, the doctrine advanced by Critical Realism is
about as follows: Knowledge takes places by means of a datum
or "given." This datum, which is denoted variously as "quality-
complex," "character-complex," and "essence," is not an exist-
ence, but something more in the nature of a meaning or what
Bradley calls a ' ' floating adjective. " " By the essence of a percept
I mean its what divorced from its that its entire concrete nature,
including its sensible characters, but not its existence" (p. 223).
This doctrine of "essences" is the central feature of Critical Real-
ism. It is by means of this doctrine that the position undertakes
70 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
to avoid the errors of its predecessors. Since the essence is not
an existence, it can not be identified with outer reality, after the
manner of neo-realism, though it can be affirmed of outer reality.
Moreover, this affirmation is direct, which means that the reality
of which the essence is affirmed becomes the object of knowledge,
as against the assertion of copyism that the immediate object of
knowledge is a mental state. To put it differently the essence is
a means but not an object of knowledge (cf. pp. 97, 189, 226).
It makes natural and easy the transition to an outer reality, which
is so difficult for copyism; and it maintains the distinction be-
tween content and object of knowledge which is denied by naive
realism and neo-realism.
If I interpret the doctrine correctly, this is the solution proposed
by Critical Realism. It is a solution accepted by all the members
of the group, but is elaborated particularly by Strong, who com-
ments feelingly on the great significance of essences: "As I have
elsewhere explained, I owe this precious conception to Mr. Santa-
yana. I had long been convinced that cognition requires three
categories for its adequate interpretation; the intermediate one
between subject and objects corresponding to the Kantian 'phenom-
enon* or 'appearance.' At one time I used to designate this
category as content, since it agrees with the current conception
of a content of consciousness; but in my efforts to conceive it
clearly, I was continually falling off either into the category of
object or into that of 'psychic state.' What was my relief when at
last I heard Mr. Santayana explain his conception of 'essence,' and
it dawned upon me that here was the absolutely correct descrip-
tion of the looked-for category" (p. 224, note).
At first sight the theory presents an appearance of engaging
simplicity. It starts with the tri-partite division of mental exist-
ences, external existences and essences ; and asserts that the essences
are the meanings or contents through which the external existences
become known. As long as we are careful to insist upon the status
of the essences as floating or wandering adjectives, they are in-
capable of usurping the place of existences and offering themselves
as the objects of thought. These floating adjectives seek an an-
chorage, which is provided by the act of affirming the external ex-
istences to which they pertain or the nature of which they reveal.
This act of affirmation is much more fundamental and direct than
any process of inference. "The sense of the outer existence of
these essences is indistinguishably fused with their appearance"
(p. 20). "We do not infer a realm of existence co-real with our-
selves but, instead, affirm it through the very pressure and sugges-
tion of our experience" (p'. 195). That is, essences lead on "irre-
CRITICAL REALISM 71
sistibly" and "instinctively," to the world of existents; and so we
escape both the Scylla of copyism and the Charybdis of hyposta-
tized meanings.
It soon appears, however, that this doctrine of essences needs
to be handled with care. On this point, it is intimated, there is,
unfortunately, no complete agreement among the Critical Realists
themselves. This issue is indeed "the one question in our in-
quiry upon which we have not been able fully to agree." The
statement of the disagreement is relegated to a pair of footnotes
(pp. 4 and 20), apparently with the commendable purpose of
keeping family squabbles as much as possible out of the public eye.
The disagreement, it seems, turns on the question of what consti-
tutes a datum or essence. Three of the seven hold that the datum
or essence is in every case the character of the mental existent;
while the remaining four take the position that the essence may
be, so to speak, composite in nature. According to the latter view,
the essence may result in part from the nature of the mental
state and in part from the function of the mental state or the
use to which it is put. The statement of the difference is brief
to the point of obscurity; but as I interpret it, the point is some-
thing like this: If I see a cushion as blue, the blue is an essence
or datum. The mental state of the moment may include the
quality 'blue,' which is referred to the physical object. The dis-
senting three hold that it must be so included, since this is the
only way in which essences can be obtained. But in the opinion
of the second group, the datum, while it may be, need not be, a
character of the mental state. The latter need not include the
quality blue at all, "as, e.g., if I see the cushion in a faint light,
when it is nearly black, or through tinted glasses, and yet perceive
it as a blue cushion. So it is clear that the characters that make
up the datum depend more upon the associations than upon the
actual characters of the mental state" (p. 30). The actual datum
may be constituted in part by the function performed by the mental
state. On page 29, at the end of an illustration intended to show
that the characters of the mental state may be very different from
the datum or essence, it is said that "when a complex mental
state of the sort just indicated exists, together with the readiness
of the organism to act in a certain way, then we say, and feel,
that a certain datum has been 'given' or has 'appeared.' This
is all there is to 'givenness'."
Perhaps we can rest content with the earnest assurance that
the disagreement is not a serious matter. But, even so, a considera-
tion of the disagreement furnishes an opportunity to gain a further
insight into the meaning of Critical Realism. If we take the view
72 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
that the essence expresses the character of the mental existent, we
come somewhat closer to the position of copyism. If my mental
state must "consist" in part of the quality "blue" (whatever
that may mean), it follows that sensible qualities are "subjective
substitutes for the corresponding parts of the physical world"
(p. 191), and that "the content in terms of which we think the
object must have the property of reproducing the character of the
object in some measure" (p. 198, italics mine). This is certainly
the language of copyism. On the other hand, if we take cases in
which, according to the second view, the essence is the joint prod-
uct of mental states and their function, there is no justification
for such language at all. The essence is not a subjective substi-
tute and there is no process of reproduction. In appearance at
least we are now much closer to the standpoint of common sense.
Since in such cases "the datum as a whole (the total character
given) is not the character of any existent" (p. 21, note), atten-
tion is naturally directed away from the conventional notion of
reproduction and towards a consideration of function.
Whether the disagreement just mentioned has any serious conse-
quences for their position is a question which we can afford to let
the Critical Realists settle among themselves. My purpose is
simply to point out the shift of emphasis towards function which
the disagreement brings to light; a shift that a pragmatically
minded reader is not likely to overlook. He will not fail to notice
that if "the datum as a whole is not the character of any existent,"
but is determined, in some measure, by the behavior of the organ-
ism, the import of this doctrine can easily be translated into his
own familiar language of stimulus and response. The "datum as
a whole," he finds, varies with the response; and there is little
occasion to bother with the metaphysical "external object" of
Critical Realism at all. "Data are directly dependent on the
individual organism, not on the external object, varying in their
character with the constitution of the sense organs and the way
in which these are affected, and only secondarily and indirectly
with the external thing" (p. 225). Moreover, these data are
symbols or signs which make it possible to ' ' rehearse and anticipate
the movement of things" (c/. pp. 170-173). In other words, the
data of Critical Realism can easily be induced to take the place
accorded to objects in pragmatic philosophy. Datum and body
vary concomitantly, and the process of experience becomes a proc-
ess in which we "adjust our bodies and our beliefs" to our environ-
ment (p. 30), which seems to mean that experience is a constant
quest for a more adequate stimulus. We test the adequacy of our
data by observing how they work. If they stand up under the
CRITICAL REALISM 73
test, they become symbols of other experiences, which is to say that
they are not the objects but the means of knowing. It is all a
question of further experiences. If a sense-observation requires
confirmation, we appeal to the other senses, or to the observations
of other persons, or to the congruity of the given observation with
the whole body of our past experiences (cf. p. 106). To the adher-
ent of pragmatic doctrine such extensive agreement is naturally
a source of considerable gratification.
To the Critical Realist, however, this agreement is of minor
significance, since his chief concern is for the "external object."
To him the datum is not merely a symbol of other experiences, but
is a warrant for the belief in an outer existence. Just how the
datum functions in this connection is not altogether clear. It is
stated that we pass to outer existence, as it were, "instinctively,"
since "the sense of the outer existence of these essences is indis-
tinguishably fused with their appearance." "Thinghood and per-
ception go together" (p. 197). Passages like these suggest that
the reference to outer existence is somehow part and parcel of the
datum. But we are also told that "when the datum is said to
exist, something is added to it which it does not and can not con-
tain the finding of it, the assault, the strain, the emphasis, the
prolongation of our life before and after it towards the not-given.
These concomitant contributions of the psyche weight that datum,
light it up, and make it seem at once substantial and incidental.
Its imputed existence is a dignity borrowed from the momentum
of the living mind, which spies out and takes alarm at that datum
(or rather at the natural process that calls it forth), supposing
that there is something substantial there, and something dangerous
that will count and work in the world. But essences (as Berkeley
said of his 'ideas') are inert" (pp. 179, 180).
Contrasting statements of this sort suggest the uncomfortable
suspicion that the harmony among the Critical Realists is attribu-
table to company manners, rather than to inward disposition of
mind. Unless the language is misleading, we have here another
cleavage, besides the one already discussed. On the one hand we
are assured that Critical Realism "looks upon the total content as
empirical, and is sceptical of the Kantian theory of the constitu-
tive understanding" (p. 211). On the other hand we are met
with the assertion that existence is a "concomitant contribution"
with which the psyche weights the datum. Whether these state-
ments admit of reconciliation, we need not pause to inquire.
Whether apparent or real, this disagreement likewise may be used
to clarify issues. Just what are we to understand by the assertion
that the affirmation of thinghood or existence must be superadded
to the content of perception?
74 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
Apparently the question raises a dilemma. If an additional
element is superimposed from without upon the content of the
datum by the affirmation, we get Kantianism ; if nothing is super-
imposed, we get an empty form. Perhaps these two alternatives
have not been kept consistently apart. On the surface the state-
ment that there is a "sense" of outer existence, which is "indis-
tinguishably fused" with the content of the datum, appears to be
intended as an alternative to Kantianism. But if so, it is neces-
sary to ascertain just what is gained by the manoeuver. The
sensory qualities are already "present" by virtue of their status
as experienced facts. But this "presence" is not what is meant
by "existence." The "sense" aforementioned requires the affirma-
tion of existence, but it furnishes no content or meaning for ex-
istence. It does not warrant the conclusion that "the special and
invidious kind of reality opposed to appearance must mean an
underlying reality, a substance; and it had better be called by
that name" (p. 165), unless "substance" is taken to mean "ex-
istence" and nothing more. But bare existence adds nothing at
all. A sensory fact which is merely present is not specifiably
different from a fact which has the affirmation of existence added
to it. As Hume says, ."To reflect on anything simply and to re-
flect on it as existent, are nothing different from each other. That
idea, when conjoined with the idea of any object, makes no addi-
tion to it." 2 The affirmation of this ontological existence is sup-
posed to be vital to the position of Critical Realism, but an ex-
amination of it discloses, if a Yankeeism may be pardoned, that it
is the little end of nothing, whittled down to a point.
But this is not the only connection in which the problem of
existence arises to trouble us. Correlated with these "external ob-
jects" are "mental states." These too exist, although "their data,
the appearances they yield me, are to be distinguished from the
mental states themselves" (p. 21). The belief in these existences,
however, seems to rest on a different basis from that of the belief
in external objects. The appeal is not to a "sense of existence,"
as in the case of outer existence, but is rather to inference, backed
up by introspection (cf. pp. 25, 26, 234-237). The mental states
must be held to exist, for they are needed as vehicles of the data
or essences. Without the mental states we should be unable to ac-
count for the fact that data are sometimes given and sometimes
not (pp. 26, 233). When we introspect, these states, ordinarily un-
noticed, come to light. "I admit that an unfelt sensation, in the
sense in which the word sensation is ordinarily used, is absurd; but
2 Treatise of Human Nature, Part II, section VI.
CRITICAL REALISM 75
I persist in thinking that that which we feel, when we feel, i.e.,
distinctly attend to, a sensation, is capable of existing when it is
not felt, and so does exist in all vision, hearing and touching of
external realities" (p. 235).
The claim, then, that mental states are the vehicles of the data
is intended to mean that the mental states give to the data that
peculiar quality of "feltness" which distinguishes the given from
the not-given. Data, to be sure, are not felt directly, since they are
not existences. "It is well known that the chief factor in the visual
perception of distance ... is convergence and accommodation of
the eyes. The sense that distance is actually felt may then be due
to the fact that it is brought before us by the muscular sensations
of convergence and accommodation. Distance, in that case, would
be felt, but not visually felt. And the instance would constitute a
beautiful example of the way external objects and relations are
known by means of sensations which have in them little of the
characters of the external things, but are simply used as signs"
(p. 236).
It will be recalled that copyism is criticized by Critical Realism
for attempting to pass from the given experience to outer existence
by a process of inference. The same criticism, it would seem, is
applicable to the attempt to justify the belief in mental states by
a process of inference. Since the existence of these states is not
intuited, they are as much "outer" to the data as any physical
fact. Does it become known to us in precisely the same way ? For
example, of an ordinary perception, in which a blue object is pre-
sented, it is said : ' ' Blueness here belongs to both datum and mental
state" (p. 30). The reference to the physical object, as we have
been told, is brought about by a "sense of outer existence." Must
we then resort to a parallel "sense of inner existence," which is
likewise " indistinguishably fused" with the datum, or is it neces-
sary to resort to inference? Two such "senses" mixed up in
one experience would look dubious enough, in all conscience; while
the other alternative is made unattractive by the horrible example
of copyism. But waiving this point, we come upon a further ques-
tion, What is a mental state when we finally discover it ? Since the
given consists exclusively of ' ' essences, ' ' of meanings or universals,
it would seem that introspection can not disclose a "sensation of
blue," but merely "blue." That is, introspection comes upon the
same datum that, in the original perception, was assigned to the
physical object. What then can be meant by saying that it is now
found to be the character of a mental state? The only difference
that is introduced by introspection consists in the discovery of a
different context for the blue. It is now found to be associated with
76
"sensation of eye strain" and similar introspective material. But
this does not convert the blue into something mental, or make the
blue a clue to the existence of a mental entity, unless this connota-
tion is smuggled in with the word "sensations." While we speak,
indeed, of "sensations of eye strain," they too are, by hypothesis,
essences or data, and their reference to the eyes is as direct and
unambiguous as is the reference of blue to a physical object. If
we classify these "sensations" in turn as mental on the score of
their associations, it is plain that we become involved in an endless
regress of essences. Critical Realism provides no content for the
notion of mental states; which is perhaps the reason why it is not
scandalized by the suggestion of unconscious mental states. If we
stick consistently to the doctrine that the given consists of essences,
there can be no room for existences of any sort, and both external
objects and mental states go by the board.
This conclusion is emphasized when we examine the function
of mental states in giving concreteness or vividness to the essences
which enter into experience. It is clear that, if externality is made
to depend upon an empty reference of essence to existence, it be-
comes necessary to invest these essences with the "tang" of sensi-
bility, by virtue of which they become transformed from plain ab-
stractions into living experiences. They must take on "concretion
for discourse and for action" (p. 22). This process is supposed
to be illustrated by Strong's "beautiful example" of the muscular
sensations of convergence and accommodation which give us the ap-
pearance of visual distance. "The datum is sensibly vivid be-
cause it is brought before us by a sensation" (p. 237. Unfortu-
nately the illustration fails to illustrate. The datum being what it
is, how can vividness apply to it? "A meaning here is not to be
understood as a peculiar kind of feeling that can be met with
introspectively in the same way that a visual sensation or a pain
can, but as a function which the feeling dicharges in bringing us
into mental relation to an external thing. When, having a sensa-
tion caused by an object in our minds, we are disposed (in virtue
of the connected nervous arrangements) to act as with reference
not to it but to the object, then that object is, in so far, before the
mind as a datum" (p. 237).
The passage just quoted seems to reveal a significant inconsis-
tency. Data are functions and so can not be met with introspec-
tively, as it is possible to meet with a visual sensation or a pain.
That is, a visual sensation or a pain is something different in kind
from data or essences. If they are not essences, they must be ex-
istences, yet they can be the objects of our immediate apprehension.
"There are states of our sensibility which do not bring before us
CRITICAL REALISM 77
objects other than themselves e.g., anger or pain, or in some cases,
chill" (p. 233). How this squares with the doctrine that existence
is never given directly, I am unable to make out. A little reflection
will show, however, that the general position requires some con-
cession in this matter of sensations. A rigid adherence to the doc-
trine of essences would leave no room for vividness at all. Vivid-
ness must come in, not as a meaning, but as something immediately
"felt," something that "constitutes its own object." If we were
to limit our consideration of sensations to essences referred to
mental states, as the theory requires, the whole procedure would
remain coldly logical. Since Critical Realism ignores the sug-
gestion that givenness may be connected with the functioning of
the "essence," and not of the "mental state," it can account for
the warmth and intimacy of sensory experience only by lapsing
into the standpoint of traditional subjectivism, and it finds itself
obliged to give new life to the dismal theory of unconscious mental
states, which seemed in process of dissolution. The whole situation
seems to be just another phase of the historic difficulty about
sensations and relations; and the best we get is the unintelligible
assurance that "a datum can be so concrete as even to have sensible
vividness, and yet not be an existence, but only an entirely concrete
universal, a universal of the lowest order" (p. 231). How low
a universal of this sort would have to be, it would perhaps be indeli-
cate to inquire.
The foregoing criticism may be summed up by saying that the
doctrine of essences, which constitutes the distinctive feature of
the position and which is relied upon as an alternative to both
copyism and neo-realism, works havoc in the end, because it leaves
no room for existence of any kind. It is a pleasure to concede many
merits to the book. In view of the nature of its topic, it is very
readable. It possesses many keen and suggestive analyses, and it
is undoubtedly an important contribution. But that it offers an
acceptable solution as it stands, I am unable to believe. In the
presence of the historic tradition which requires that mind be iso-
lated from its objects by a gulf which can be traversed only by a
claim, Critical Realism lays aside all its sophistication and shows
a striking capacity for simple faith. But, as I have tried to show,
the book itself furnishes certain suggestions as to the lines along
which an acceptable revision might be made. And it provides ad-
ditional evidence for the view that the "external object," to which
Critical Realism attaches so much importance, serves no purpose
whatever except to give a certain dignity or esthetic sanction to the
proceedings. But the authors have succeeded in making their
position as plausible as the materials at their disposal would per-
78 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
mit, and in doing so they have done much towards the clarification
of the important philosophic issues of the day.
B. H. BODE.
OHIO STATE UNIVERSITY.
BOOK REVIEWS
Le Thomisme, introduction au systcme de 8. Thomas D'Aquin.
fiTEENNE GILSON. Strasbourg: A. Vix et Cie. 1919. Pp. 174.
It has become conventional among historians of philosophy to
pass from the Greeks to the moderns, from Plotinus to Bacon and
Descartes, much as if between there had been no speculating on
earth "about it, and about." This attitude of mind is grossly pro-
vincial. It appears to be taken for granted that the great school-
men of the thirteenth century, because they were theologians,
could not be philosophers ; whereas, remarks Professor Gilson, ' ' une
philosophic qui cherche a rejoindre une foi n'en est pas moins une
philosophic" (p. 6). Indeed, to him the thirteenth century ap-
pears as rich a philosophical epoch as the epochs of Descartes
and of Leibnitz, or of Kant and of Auguste Comte. As chief
representatives of that rich period he cites Thomas Aquinas and
Duns Scotus. It is to the philosophical system of the former that
he will introduce his reader.
This system, like all great systems of philosophy, resulted from
an effort to harmonize divergent spiritual tendencies of the histor-
ical moment. In a few broad outlines, Professor Gilson sketches
the antecedents of the situation.
After Plotinus, there was for five centuries virtual philosophical
silence. The two centuries of the Patristic period were altogether
theological; the three centuries following where wholly given to
practical issues, political and social reconstruction. Under Char-
lemagne this task was fulfilled. Under his aegis, also, revived philo-
sophical speculation, thereafter to continue to modern times without
breach of continuity. During the next four centuries, three con-
siderable conclusions were arrived at, all three fundamental to
the Thomistic synthesis: (1) recognition of the parallel validity of
reason and faith; (2) solution of the age-long problem of " uni-
versals " by conceptualism demonstrating the sense-origin of con-
cepts; (3) the so-called scholastic method of argumentation by enum-
eration of arguments contra, development of the solution proposed,
refutation of objections already raised.
Opinion in this period, on the other hand, wavered uncertainly be-
tween Plato and Aristotle without clearly understanding either. Of
Aristotle, especially, only the Organon was directly accessible. What
BOOK REVIEWS 79
therefore wholly altered the situation were the Toledan translations
of the Physics and Metaphysics, Avicenna's abridgment, and
Averroes' commentary, all divulgated at the beginning of the
thirteenth century. But the Peripatetic system, now at last revealed
in its wholeness, seemed to deny Christian faith in divine providence
and the immortality of the individual human soul.
In consequence, Christian opinion again split. One faction, voiced
principally by the Franciscan St. Bonaventure, asserted fundamental
antagonism between the new Aristotle and Christian dogma. Aris-
totle's basic error lay for them in his rejection of Plato's doctrine
of Ideas. If God possessed not in himself the Ideas of all things
as exemplars, he must know himself only, and not particulars ; which
negates divine providence. Moreover, oblivious of his world, God
could not have created it. Therefore it must be eternal. If eternal,
there must have existed in it an infinity of men, and so there must
be an infinity of souls ; unless indeed the soul is corruptible, or the
same souls pass from body to body, or there is but one soul or
intellect for all men. According to Averroes, Aristotle accepted
the last choice. Hence, obviously, Aristotle would deny the possi-
bility of individual immortality and of future reward and punish-
ment. St. Bonaventure and his group, accordingly, rejected Aris-
totle and all his works, and clung to the traditional Platonic-
Augustinian exemplarism.
Another faction, in despair, renounced speculation by reason
altogether, so setting up again the barrier between reason and
faith. At the other extreme, a not inconsiderable group of in-
tellectual radicals, defying imputation of heresy, accepted the
Averroistic Aristotle in toto.
Against the anathema of the Church, these radicals could not
prevail ; but the very boldness of their stand in the name of reason
was a warning. The manifest superiority of Aristotle's natural
science assured its ultimate acceptance. If his metaphysics could
be conformed to Christian dogma, that dogma would be the more
strengthened by sponsoring his triumphant and innocuous
physical doctrines. Otherwise, there was danger of heresy spread-
ing.
Specifically, to Christianize Aristotle it was necessary, says
Professor Gilson, to ' ' reintroduire dans le systeme 1 'exemplarisme
et la creation, maintenir la providence, concilirer 1'unite de la
forme substantielle avec 1 'immortalite de Tame " (p. 12). The
path-breaker towards this end was Albert of Cologne, called " the
Great ; ' ' but although encyclopedic in scope, he failed to achieve
in any proper sense a coherent and consistent philosophical sys-
tem on the compromise bases. This achievement was reserved for
80 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
his disciple, Thomas Aquinas; and as evidence of St. Thomas's
success, Professor Qilson alleges the fact that "apres six cent
ans de speculation philosophique et malgre des tentatives innom-
brables pour constituer une apolog6tique sur des bases nouvelles,
1'Eglise vit encore de la pensce de S. Thomas d'Aquin, et veut
continuer d'en vivre " (pp. 13-14).
The method of St. Thomas's conciliation may be illustrated
by a single instance. According to Aristotle, a future contingent
can not be known, for as soon as known as true, it ceases to be
contingent to become necessary. But to refuse God the knowledge
of future contingents, is to make providence impossible. Aris-
totle's conclusion on this point is therefore inadmissible. Although
disparity with dogmatic truth, however, motivates rejection of
Aristotle's authority, rejection is not justified until reason can
find support for the opposite conclusion. St. Thomas, accordingly,
demonstrates by logical deduction that God can, and must, know
future contingents (pp. 67-68).
The instance is typical; and from it the generalization may
be made that St. Thomas incorporated into his system Aristotle's
positions so far as these were compatible with Christian dogma;
and if substitutions were made in the name of the Faith, these also
were logically deduced from the premises of the system itself. So, to
repeat, although St. Thomas be motivated by theological considera-
tions, he still achieved in the strictest sense of the word a philosophy.
To evaluate in detail the outline of this philosophy given by Pro-
fessor Gilson is beyond the competence of the present reviewer. It
is at least delightfully candid, succinct, and clear.
There is, however, a point of query. Emphasizing as basic to
Thomism, the restriction of human cognition to abstraction from the
data of sense, Professor Gilson declares in his general conclusion:
"Le platonisme trouvait dans la mystique son dernier achevement,
et il faut dire, au contraire, que dans la mesure oil la mystique sup-
poserait une intuition, et comme une experience directe de Dieu par
1'ame, le thomisme constitue la negation radicale de la mystique "
(pp. 171-172). Perhaps in consistency this should be true; but
St. Thomas was confronted with the case of St. Paul (II Cor. xii),
and unqualifiedly concludes that the Apostle had in " rapture "
immediate cognition of the divine essence. (Cf. De veritate, xii,
2; Summa theol. II-II, clxxiv, 4.) Now obviously, to admit the pos-
sibility of even a single " experience directe de Dieu par 1'ame " is
to open the door to mysticism. Instance the Thomist Dante 's claim to
a similar intuition, which may be poetic fiction, but is no less recog-
nition of the mystical potentiality of St. Thomas's doctrine.
JEFFERSON B. FLETCHER.
COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY.
BOOK REVIEWS 81
The Principles of Esthetics. DE\VITT H. PARKER. Boston : Silver,
Burdett and Company. 1920. Pp. v -f 374.
It would have been achievement enough to have produced some-
thing like an adequate textbook on esthetics. But Mr. Parker has
done more than this. He has written a, book that makes profitable
and pleasant reading alike for those unfamiliar with the subject
and for those versed in its traditions and literature. For purposes
of instruction, The Principles of Esthetics must, to be sure, be sup-
plemented by works on certain aspects of the subject that are left
entirely untouched as, for example, the matter of the origins of
art. But this deficiency is partially supplied by references in the
bibliography appended. Moreover, the matters treated are quite
numerous and varied enough for the compass of the volume.
Mr. Parker deliberately stresses psychological esthetics; or
perhaps it might more properly be said that for him the subject is
essentially psychological. "I use 'experience of art' 'esthetic ex-
perience,' and 'beauty' with the same meaning," he observes (p.
53). This bias does not prevent his giving in his later chapters an
exceedingly good objective analysis of the structure of the several
arts, taking up in turn, music, poetry, prose literature, painting,
sculpture and architecture. In connection with the problem of
evil, he considers the nature of the tragic, the comic, and the pa-
thetic, treating these as so many methods of solving that problem.
The last two chapters he devotes to the relation of art to morality
and religion.
The book is essentially non-historical. To but a small extent
is even reference made to traditional solutions of the problems
considered. Mr. Parker's own solutions are, of course, by no means
uniquely his, but in his handling he displays vigor, originality and
freshness. Particularly good throughout the volume is the treat-
ment of the antithesis of thought and feeling in the esthetic ex-
perience. Mr. Parker coins the word einmeinung after analogy
with einfiihlung to express "the relation of the idea to the sense
medium of the expression." "Feeling," he observes (p. 70) "is
a function of ideas; if, then, we demand sincerity in the one, we
must equally demand conviction in the other."
To those who relish a sincere, sympathetic, and human treat-
ment of matters which may be made either too abstruse or hack-
neyed, this volume will be exceedingly welcome.
HELEN Huss PARKHURST.
BAENARD COLLEGE.
82 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
JOURNALS AND NEW BOOKS
SCIENTIA. September, 1921. Le comete secolari ed ft moto
del Sole nello spazio (pp. 181-188): G. ABMELLINI (Padua). -It
seems highly probable that all comets belong to the solar system.
Even if a comet's orbit were found to be hyperbolic, we even then
could not be sure it came from the remote depths of space. L 1 'emis-
sion d'electricitS par les corps incandescent* (pp. 189-194) : A.
BONTARIC (Dijon). -Under the influence of heat, electrons escape
from a body in a way analogous to ordinary vaporization, and this
movement of negative particles constitutes an electric current.
First studied from a purely theoretical angle, this phenomenon has
now given rise to ingenious technical applications showing again
the unexpectedly practical value of highly theoretical inquiries.
The Chemical and Biological Differences in Proteins (pp. 195-200) :
E. H. A. PLIMMER (Aberdeen). -Somewhat technical paper point-
ing out the inadequacy of our knowledge in this field. La question
de I'union de I'Autriche allemande a I'Allemagne (pp. 201-212) :
BERTRAND AUERBACH (Nancy). -Purely historical sketch of the re-
lations of Austria to Germany in the period just before the Treaty
of Versailles. Psycho-vitalisme et hypothese mnemique (pp. 213-
217) : "VERNON LEE" (Florence). -Review of the work of Richard
Semon, defending his theory of organic memory as truly scientific
and not obscurantist. Reviews of Scientific Books and Periodicals.
de Miranda, Pontes. A Sabedoria dos Instinctos; Ideas e Anteci-
pac.6es. Rio de Janeiro: J. Ribeiro dos Santos. 1921. Pp. 238.
Mitchell, T. W. The Psychology of Medicine. London : Methuen &
Co. 1921. Pp. 187. 6 sh.
Ralph, Joseph. How to Psycho- Analyze Yourself : Theory and Prac-
tice of Remoulding the Personality by the Analytic Method.
Long Beach, California: published by the author. 1921. Pp.
318. $5.
van Velzen, H. Thoden. Force Curative. Geneva: S. A. des Edi-
tions Sonor. 1921. Pp. 30.
NOTES AND NEWS
CONFERENCE ON PHILOSOPHY AT THE UNIVERSITY OP TORONTO
Sir Robert Falconer, President of the University of Toronto,
on behalf of the Department of Philosophy extended an invitation
to several prominent leaders to take part in a conference on Jan.
17, 18 and 19 to discuss philosophical problems. Some of those
NOTES AND NEWS 83
invited were ima,ble to attend; but a sufficient number were pres-
ent to make possible an interesting programme, planned to secure
a presentation and discussion of contemporary tendencies.
The proceedings were opened by a general statement of the im-
port of modern philosophy by Professor Woodbridge of Columbia.
He developed the thought that at first both medieval and modern
philosophy were mainly engaged in the task of translating earlier
especially the Greek speculations into the Latin and modern lan-
guages. Later the modern philosophers discovered that they must
get beyond terms and terminologies and explore the real subject
matter of philosophy, i.e. actual human experience. Out of the
earlier effort to state and formulate, and the later one to explore
and investigate, there grew up a healthy rivalry or " criticism"
which has kept modern philosophy alive and moving. Whether
this movement is a forward and progressive one or not is to some
still a matter for debate.
Professor Shastri of Calcutta followed with an exposition of
the various schools of eastern philosophy and their inter-relations
in a manner which showed his intimate knowledge of this subject.
In the evening a public lecture was given by Professor Hock-
ing of Harvard on "Philosophy and History." It was skilfully
shown that history must eventually endeavor to interpret events
in terms of mind. When certain notable changes took place, not
foreseen or humanly planned for, it was once customary to invoke
for explanation Chance, or Fate, or Providence. Later on, much
more stress was laid upon "economic pressure." After analyzing
the elements in the term "economic" and admitting its tremendous
significance, he pointed out that these economic agencies are not
mere blind forces, utterly uncontrollable, but that, wherein they
succeed, in the long run it can be shown that this success is inti-
mately dependent on the fact that they are entitled to succeed,
because fulfilling some social or moral need. Further, it was shown
that the chief moral-social requirement centers upon the recogni-
tion of the infinite worth of the individual soul or personality, and
that to teach this recognition and its consequent duties is the high-
est expression of that longing for religion that is found through
all human history.
On the second day Professor Hocking took the lead with a
presentation of evil from the realistic standpoint. This led to
the suggestion of a more adequate view, where evil is indeed ad-
mitted to be genuinely evil, but where it is also more than merely ex-
istent as a permanent opposition to good. What we call evils can
be dealt with in such a way as to become " something more " than
merely evil.
84 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
Professor Creighton of Cornell gave a presentation of the phil-
osophical meaning of intelligibility, wherein he differentiated phi-
losophy from the explanations current in the special sciences and
indicated how philosophical criticism is not merely destructive,
but also constructive.
In the evening Professor Shastri contrasted Eastern and West-
ern tendencies in thought and civilization, and pleaded for a more
adequate mutual understanding and a closer cooperation between
East and West.
On the final day of the conference, a good debate was secured
on the fundamental differences between the realistic and the ideal-
istic tendencies. Professor Woodbridge clearly stated how this
opposition arose out of the emphasis of Descartes on certainty, the
emphasis of Bacon on power. Professor Hocking maintained the
possibility of a reconciliation, not by any superficial or external
synthesis, but by widening our interpretation of direct or immedi-
ate experience so as to find in it a dialectical process seeking the
' ' that ' ' of certainty, and an experiential process seeking the ' ' what ' '
of content. Out of this suggestion grew a spirited discussion of
the import of "intuition" and of how to discriminate between a
pseudo-problem and a genuine problem in philosophy. Professor
Creighton summed up the debate by claiming that though there
might seem to be an opposition there was no real contradiction be-
tween the logical process of proof and the intuitional; that, in
fact, logical proofs became concentrated or vitally synthesized in
an "intuition," which was not an abandonment but a consumma-
tion of the logical. An "intuition," then, is concrete and includes
in it a logical factor.
In the evening a delightful lecture was given by Professor
Creighton, showing in a lucid and interesting way the contrast
between the eighteenth and nineteenth century in philosophy,
literature and civilization.
JAMES GIBSON HUME.
UNIVZRSITY or TORONTO
VOL. XIX, No. 4. FEBRUARY 16, 1922
THE JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
THE IDENTITY OF INSTINCT AND HABIT
TWO years ago, in a brief paper entitled Are There Any In-
stinctsf * I questioned the usefulness of the conception of
instincts then prevalent in psychology, pointing out that while there
are many reaction patterns which may legitimately be called in-
stinctive if by instinctive we mean unlearned these reaction pat-
terns are not combined in the so-called instincts in any exclusive ; -
way, but that the same reaction pattern occurs in several of the
instincts, and that in some of the instincts practically all of the
reaction patterns, learned and unlearned, which the animal possesses,
function at one time or another. The ' ' instincts, ' ' I concluded, are
teleological groupings of activities, not psychological groupings.
They are teleological, in that they are grouped with reference to
the ends attained by the complex activity : not ends that the acting
animal holds as conscious purposes, but ends that the classifier (the
psychologist, biologist, philosopher, or whoever draws up the list
of instincts), considers as attained by the activity in question. Lists
of instincts, therefore, represent no fundamental psychological proc-
esses, but merely the convenience of the classifier: and any list
which is convenient is as valid as any other list.
Since this heretical assault upon a widely held doctrine was
delivered, a considerable number of writers have taken up the cudgel
against instincts; and there seems to be danger that denunciation
of instinct will become as fashionable and as uncritical as the accept-
ance of instincts has been hitherto. In particular, there seems to
be a tendency to make no discrimination between instinctive activity,
instinct, and instincts ; but to assume that rejecting the last of these
disposes of the others. It may well be that there is such a thing as
instinct, namely, action determined solely by the environment (stim-
ulation pattern), and the constitution of the animal; and that hence
certain actions are properly called instinctive (without regard to
what they accomplish in the world, of course) ; although the "in-
stincts" are purely arbitrary groupings of activities. A recent
author, 2 in fact, while rejecting the whole conception of instinct,
reinstates instinctive activities under the changed names of inherited
1 Journal of Abnormal Psychology, 1919, Vol. 14, pp. 307-311.
2 Zing Yang Kuo, ' ' Giving up Instincts in Psychology, ' ' this JOURNAL,
1921, Vol. 18, pp. 645-664.
85
86 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOI'JI Y
"action-systems," defining these in precisely the same way in which
we would ordinarily define instinctive tendencies.
It seems to me, therefore, necessary to state a little more carefully
the objections to the old use of "instincts" in psychology, and also
to add the consideration of certain objections to the antithesis
usually assumed between instinct and habit, especially since these
latter objections have not been raised by any of the recent authors
to whom I refer. In my present view concerning this relation of
instinct and habit, I am in part indebted to Dr. Ulrich, 8 although
I must confess that the suggestion comes to me not from his im-
portant monograph, but from personal discussion with him of
matters contained therein. I hope I may be pardoned if I repeat
somewhat, and if I seem to introduce rather elementary illustrations,
for I now feel that it is better to be a little tedious rather than run the
risk of not making my point understood.
Psychologists have got into the habit of contrasting instinct and
intelligence. From that they have gone on to the custom of speak-
ing of specific instincts as if they were really separable entities; 4
a habit that was wished upon psychologists by a variety of men:
philosophers, students of animal behavior, etc. The machinery of
instincts so constructed has been seized on by several psychologists as
ready-made apparatus for the construction of social psychology,
and it behooves us to look rather carefully, if necessarily somewhat
hastily, into the whole question of instincts, which, of course, we
have to separate from instinct and from instinctive reaction.
We find in the animal, human and infra-human, tendencies to
react in certain ways to certain stimuli : tendencies to make certain
definite responses to certain definite features of the environment.
For example: At a certain tirade the bell rings, whereupon the stu-
dents in my room gather up their books and file out through the
door. There is thus demonstrated a tendency to react in a particular
way, however complex, to a particular stimulus pattern, which in
this case happens to be a relatively simple one. The reaction, of
course, was not in existence during the time immediately preceding
the ringing of the bell. The students, however, did have the
tendency. It may not have been in existence during the whole of the
hour preceding the action, but certainly a number of minutes before
the bell rang the tendency was there, ready to play its part in
bringing about the action. A tendency, we may assume, is a certain
arrangement in the nervous system; what Stout and others have
*" Integration of Movement in Learning in the Albino Rat," Psychobio-
logy, 1920, VoL 2, pp. 375-448, 455-500; Journal of Comparative Psychology,
1921, Vol. 1, pp. 1-96, 155-199, 221-286.
* The separation of intelligence into different intelligences has not been so
easily accepted, although that separation has been proposed.
THE IDENTITY OF INSTINCT AND HABIT 87
called a disposition of the nervous system: something which is
definitely in existence, whether we describe it as a physical or chem-
ical arrangement. It is because of this arrangement in the nervous
system that the stimulus produces the response. That the "disposi-
tion" exists as an organic fact, is further proved by the fact that
the reaction, in a case such as we have described, may be predicted.
As an illustration of the relation of "disposition," or "tend-
ency," to response, we may consider an electric door bell and its
operation. We press the button and the bell rings; because there
was a mechanical arrangement of parts, an existing "disposition"
of the sort that made the response (the transmission of the current
and the ringing of the bell) possible when the stimulus (the pressing
of the button.) was 'applied. We mean by the "tendency" of an
animal to react in a certain way to a certain stimulus, nothing more
occult than the "tendency" of the bell to ring when the button is
pressed.
In the human animal some of these tendencies are tendencies to
perceptual reactions. If a certain canvas with certain paint smears
on it is presented to one man, he perceives a genuine Tintoretto;
while another person to whom is presented the same canvas perceives
only a dreary daub. Why ? The two men have different perceptual
tendencies. There is a tendency on the part of one man to react to
that stimulus in one way ; and the other man has a tendency to react
in another way.
Men have also divergent emotional tendencies. One man, while
watching a certain scene on the stage, has an emotional result which
we might describe as "interest, with mild pleasure"; another man
reacts with a sad emotion, akin to grief. This difference can be stated
as due to a difference in tendencies which have previously been es-
tablished, so that the same stimulus pattern produces the responses
in accordance with the different tendencies.
There are also thought-tendencies, as definite as the perceptual
and emotional tendencies. If I mention Plymouth Rock to a group
of people, some of them may think of chicken-runs, incubators,
broilers, and market reports, while others may think of a stern and
rock-bound coast, where the breaking waves dash high; depending
on the particular tendency existing in the individual who is stimu-
lated.
It is customary to divide or group these tendencies under two
headings. We class them as instinctive, native, or inherited on the
one hand, and habitual, learned, or acquired on the other. It is
further customary to use the term "instinct" in a general way to
indicate the existence in any animal of native reaction tendencies,
"habit" in a corresponding way to indicate the existence of acquired
88 JOURNAL OF PJIIL080PJI Y
tendencies, and "intelligence" to mean the capacity to acquire or to
modify reaction tendencies. With these methods of speech we have
no quarrel, and may accept the terms as defined.
But there is a further custom of speaking of certain groups of
instinctive tendencies as instincts. This usage is by no means a
necessary consequence of those just described. We might use the
term instinct in a general way, and speak in particular of instinctive
reactions, and yet not speak of "an instinct" or "instincts" at all.
The conception of instincts has been constructed, however, and va-
rious lists of "instincts" have been compiled, and we have come in
a rather naive way to speak of this or that "instinct" as if they were
separable entities: either groups of reactions, or tendencies toward
certain complex reactions. We speak of the "nesting instinct" of
the bird, the "instinct of flight," the "parental instinct," etc.,
through various lists, these lists ranging all the way from those in-
cluding but two instincts: the self-preservatory and the reproduc-
tive or race-preservative; through the list of four which Trotter
considers adequate; to McDougall's list of twelve, and the list of
Thorndike, which includes an indefinite number between ten and
twenty.
The enumeration of such lists does not necessarily involve the
distinction of "instincts" from simpler tendencies; but in the
hands of all those who have constructed "fundamental" lists, such
a distinction, as a matter of fact, is involved. Practically all of the
compilers of lists have refused to admit to the group of "instincts"
the simple reflex, such as the knee jerk, and many more complicated
native reactions, such as the sucking of the child.
Criteria are therefore devised in order to distinguish instincts
from other non-acquired tendencies. Most of the classifiers object
to defining an instinct as a mere group of reflexes. McDougall
assumes that consciousness is involved; that there are essential con-
scious elements in an instinct; and does not accept as an instinct
an unconscious reaction, however definite. In a partial way, McDou-
gall makes emotional accompaniment a criterion. In a certain num-
ber of the twelve instincts, at least, primary emotions are assumed
to be involved. The instinct of flight involves the emotion of fear;
repulsion involves disgust; curiosity, wonder; pugnacity, anger;
self-abasement, subjection; self-assertion, elation; the parental in-
stinct, tender emotion.
It is not my intention to discuss the various criteria of instinct ;
I merely mention these as illustrating the way in which psychologists
have taken the term "instincts" in the plural, as contrasted with
' ' instinctive reaction, ' ' which has not the same meaning.
From a purely physiological point of view, there are no instincts.
THE IDENTITY OF INSTINCT AND HABIT 89
There are groups of re-activities (including not merely the end re-
sult, muscular and glandular activities, but the whole process in the
nervous system and effectors), into which the minor groups enter
in varying conditions. In the activities of flight, food-getting, and
fighting, as they actually occur, when the "tendency" passes over
into action, the same running movements may be present. To a
large extent the running movement in getting away from some object
which is inimical to the animal, the running movements in going
after food of an elusive type, the running movements in pursuing
an enemy, may be practically the same. In general, the same minor
complex may enter now into this, now into that complex which is
called an instinct, or the eventuation of an instinct. Some so-called
instincts are at times entirely included in other instincts. For in-
stance, flight, pugnacity, and food getting, taken just as groups of
reactivities, may each occur as part of the parental instinct, since
the parental instinct involves not merely the begetting of children,
but also the procuring of food for them, and the fighting in their
defense, and even the running away with a child at times, if danger
is too threatening. We would have, then, from a physiological point
of view, the instinct of flight and the instinct of pugnacity as parts
of the total complex which would be called the parental instinct.
It seems to me, moreover, that practically all of our activities enter
at some time or other into the so-called reproductive instinct; and
there are perhaps instances where the relation is reversed: where
instinct A at one time includes instinct B, and at another time in-
stinct B includes instinct A.
This inclusiveness and overlapping nature of the so-called in-
stincts is not the point of greatest difficulty in classification. The
really obstructive difficulty lies in the indefinite shading of one in-
stinct into another. For example, between flight and pugnacity, even
when it is not a question of their being included in some other in-
stinct, the lines are by no means sharp; for between the two there
is a continuous gradation of intermediate instincts.
If we attempt to distinguish instincts by the accompanying emo-
tions, we again find difficulty. Fear, for example, appears some-
times as self-abasement, and shades by gradations into wonder.
Moreover, fear is involved in a number of the instincts : the parental,
the gregarious, and sometimes in the acquisitive. So also the sub-
jective emotion and the emotion of elation are both found at times
in the reproductive and parental instincts, and in the pugnacious
instinct. I should say, moreover, that there are indefinite shadings
of emotions between fear and disgust. The withdrawal from a situa-
tion may not involve fear alone or mere disgust, but may be marked
by something between the two. So also there seems to be indefinite
90 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
shadings between fear and wonder, and fear and anger. It might be
said that these shadings are mixtures; that we have in one case a
mixture of fear and anger, and in another case a mixture of fear and
wonder. That may be true. But we have no clearly marked "ele-
mental" fear, or "pure" anger. Fear itself seems to be a compl'-x
which varies widely, and seems to contain elements which are also
contained in anger and various other emotions, and at the present
time it is safest to regard each of these so-called "primary" emotions
as a complex of several elements, some of which are common to several
emotions; and to regard the particular emotion present at any tine
as dependent upon the relative strength of the components. Excite-
ment, for instance, is sometimes present in fear and usually in anger.
Again, most of these "primary" emotions, such as fear or anger,
are apparently of several kinds. The fear you have when you start
running immediately does not seem of the same sort as the fear
you have when you are struck immobile, and it is a question worth
considering whether these are the same fear. To me, retrospection
shows that they are not the same. Again, flight might occur without
fear, or at least without the kind of fear which is usually associated
with flight. I have found myself running, after a motor car has
honked beside me on a street crossing, and yet have not found the
inner content which I call fear. The emotion in such cases I should
call "startle" or "being startled "; but not "fear."
I think the assumption that there is a very simple or constant
thing to be called fear, another to be called anger, and so on, is
certainly a dangerous one. If there are such constant things, the
evidence so far does not demonstrate it. I can not see at the present
time any great hope for the evolution of a list of "instincts" on the
basis of the emotions.
If we should now attempt to distinguish reaction-tendencies on
the basis of desire, or the purpose of the reacting animal (not the
purpose of the classifiers), we might be on a better foundation. I
think, myself, there is a distinct possibility there, and have been
working on this line for several years. I should say, however, that
in this we are getting away from the instinct basis altogether: that
the classification of activities in accordance with their furtherance of
desires is a very different problem from that in which McDougall,
Watson, and Trotter have been interested. Such a system of distinc-
tion would depend, not on a primary classification of activity groups,
but on a working out of the total activities of the organism now in
this way, and now in that, from a strictly psychological point of view.
The actual basis of all the suggested lists of instincts is in the
purposes of the classifier, not in the purpose of the reacting animal.
All the unlearned activities of the animal which the classifier views
THE IDENTITY OF INSTINCT AND HABIT 91
as contributing to the obtaining of food are considered by him as
the "feeding instinct." All of those which, from the point of view
of the classifier, culminate in the perpetuation of the species, are
considered the "reproductive instinct." Any end or purpose which
the classifier considers as important enough to set over against other
ends is the point of departure for the erection of "an instinct."
This is the teleological method, not the psychological. Now, from
such a point of view, the classifier may erect as many instincts as
will accomplish his own purposes. There is no reason for objecting
to a "mathematical instinct," unless you do so on the ground of
universality. There are results in the world which involve getting
together the mathematical relationship of things, and the tendency
to work towards these results is native to some people, if not to all.
The "musical instinct," the "religious instinct," and many others,
are also widely distributed. There certainly is such a thing as re-
ligion and activities which produce certain results which are desig-
nated as religious, and if we judge by history and by contemporary
events, tendencies toward these sorts of activities are universal,
and have a native basis in the constitution of human organisms.
There is also a tendency in the human animal to construct a political
system.
The popular writers who construct any instincts they please are
quite in accord with the general system of instinct classification.
In using the term "an instinct," you must conceive of a definite
and describable type of result which may be attained by activities
of various sorts, and assume that some of these activities are un-
learned. Any system of classification which is adequate for your
purpose is quite valid. A list of instincts is a good deal like a
filing system: you may file all your documents under the letter of
the alphabet with which the name of the writer begins, or you may
file by subjects, or by dates. One system is useful in one business,
another is more useful in another business. But an industry can not
be founded on a filing system; neither can a system of social psy-
chology be founded on a classification of instincts.
But after all, this difficulty with instincts is only a minor one.
While I am glad to see that many persons interested in social psy-
chology are beginning to doubt the usefulness of specific instincts
as bases for work, I think there is a still graver difficulty in the
whole question of instinct and instinctive reactions, a difficulty
which rather seriously concerns not only the foundations of certain
types of social psychology, but also some of our conceptions of educa-
tion and eugenics.
We have been so far assuming that there is a fundamental differ-
ence, in human and other animals, between instinctive and acquired
92 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
reactions. Instinctive reactions we have tentatively supposed to be
native tenileiieies to respond to stimuli in specific ways; and acquired
reactions are supposed to be those tendencies which are derived
from previous reactions and innate dispositions together. Starting
with a tendency to some definite reaction to a definite stimulus, va-
rious other reactions modify this tendency and eventually an acquired
tendency, distinjruishably different from the original tendency, arises.
This conception of the two classes of reactions, easily accepted in
the past, is indeed questionable. In the life of the higher animal,
there are seldom, if ever, simple reactions to simple stimuli. The
actual occurrences are complex stimulus patterns and complex reac-
tions. We find some reactions, such as the knee-jerk, in which both
stimulus and reaction are relatively simple; and some, such as the
infant's sucking reaction, in which the stimulus seems simple, al-
though the reaction is complex. But in the main, the actual adjust-
ments of the organism to its environment are complex in both re-
spects, and even the sucking reaction involves more of a stimulus
pattern than we ordinarily suppose.
The stimulus pattern of an instinctive reaction, as such reactions
are usually conceived, is assumed to be a purely spatial one : that is,
not temporal also. In such a reaction, only the stimuli of the move-
ment are effective. In the instinctive flying of a bird, assuming such
to occur, the visual, tactual, kinesthetic, and perhaps auditory stimuli
of the moment are assumed to be effective : the stimuli of preceding
minutes, hours, and days, and the reactions evoked thereby, are as-
sumed to be negligible. If these preceding stimuli and reactions do
contribute to, or modify, the reaction, then the reaction is in so far
not instinctive, but learned.
The characteristic of the learned reaction is just the temporal
stimulus pattern. In playing billiards, for example, the movements
of the arm and body are the results not of the stimulus of the moment
alone, but are the results of a stimulus pattern which extends over a
long period of time, perhaps months or years.
But both of these reactions, the acquired reaction and the so-
called instinctive one, are equally "native." Suppose that a child
is given a small piece of sandpaper at an early age, and that he puts
that in his mouth, and subsequently cries. If the piece of sandpaper
is given him repeatedly, the child eventually will react in a quite
different way. Instead of grabbing the sandpaper, he will turn his
head away and cry, and go through other reactions which express his
intention of not putting the sandpaper in his mouth. The sand-
paper in this case is the stimulus. At the first presentation, when
the child put it in his mouth, we have a so-called instinctive reaction.
At the last presentation, when he does not put it in his mouth but
THE IDENTITY OF INSTINCT AND HABIT 93
does something else, we have a so-called acquired reaction. At the
first time, it is assumed by current theory, the child 's nervous system
was so disposed that that particular stimulus, regardless of other
stimuli preceding it, caused that particular reaction ; and at the last
time the child's nervous system was so constituted by heredity
and the results of repeated stimulation, that the same stimulation
at that particular time produced a different reaction. In the one
case, there is a spatial, in the other a temporal, pattern. But after all,
are not the two cases of the same kind, and equally "instinctive" ?
Is the difference between a temporal pattern and a spatial pattern
great enough to be made so important, even if we should admit the
possibility of a purely temporal pattern? The general statement
of the reaction tendency in the two cases is much the same. If it
is true that the child 's organism, at the first trial, is so constituted
by heredity that the first stimulation produces the first reaction (put-
ting the sandpaper in the mouth), is it not equally true that his
organism is at that moment so constituted that another stimulus
(the repeated presentation of the sandpaper) will produce another
reaction (avoiding the sandpaper) ? Are not both reactions equally
"instinctive" ? Is not the reaction to a temporal stimulus pattern
just as "native" as the reaction to a stimulus pattern merely spa-
tially conditioned?
But, the reader may say, admitting that all reactions are equally
"instinctive," both are not equally "acquired." Admitting that
the second reaction is as fully native as the first, is there not some-
thing more in the second, or in the condition of the second ? Even
this we may very seriously deny. After all, there is no such thing
as a "merely spatial" pattern: all patterns are temporal, and all
reactions equally "acquired."
Let us consider such a complex reaction system as the nest-build-
ing of the robin. How could this occur without preceding stimuli
and reactions involved in the processes of feeding, flying, etc. ? Sup-
pose the bird had not gone through this preceding reaction series.
Can we assume that his nervous system could have developed to the
point where the nest-building tendency would appear? We can
not. In other words, a temporal pattern extending far back of the
beginning of the nest-building, is involved ; and our basis for distin-
guishing between this sort of reaction and habit completely disap-
pears.
Suppose we consider some of the less complex reactions: the
sucking reaction of the child, for example. Suppose the child had
not first been stimulated by cold air, and pressure, in such a way
as to produce the crying reaction: could the sucking reaction have
been evoked later? Here, again, we can not get away from the effects
94 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
of preceding stimuli. In this case it might be said that we are
not dealing with a specific effect on the nervous system in the way
of modification, but with the preservation of the integrity of the
nervous system. But this is a distinction without a valid difference.
We are concerned with a condition in the nervous system which makes
a certain specific reaction possible, and any other stimuli which
are essential to putting the nervous system in such condition, or
to maintaining it in such condition, through the reaction evoked,
must be considered as a part of the stimulus pattern. Our knowledge
of the nervous system does not permit us to go beyond this point.
At the present time, I can see no way of distinguishing usefully
between instinct and habit. All reactions are definite responses to
definite stimulus patterns, and the exact character of the response
is determined in every case by the inherited constitution of the
organism and the stimulus pattern. All reactions are instinctive:
all are acquired. If we consider instinct, we find it to be the form
and method of habit-formation : if we consider habit, we find it to be
the way in which instinct exhibits itself. Practically, we use the
term instinctive reaction to designate any reaction whose antecedents
we do not care, at the time, to inquire into ; by acquired reaction, on
the other hand, we mean those reactions for whose antecedents we
intend to give some account. But let us beware of founding a psy-
chology, social, general, or individual, on such a distinction.
KNIGHT DUNLAP.
JOHNS HOPKINS UNIVERSITY.
MUST WE GIVE UP INSTINCTS IN PSYCHOLOGY?
IN a recent number of this JOURNAL (Vol. XVIII, No. 24) there ap-
peared an article entitled ' ' Giving Up Instincts in Psychology ' '
by Mr. Zing Yang Kuo, of the University of California, in which
the writer argued not only that instincts have been overworked as
explanatory concepts in psychology, but that, as a matter of fact,
there are no such things as instincts in human nature. This point
of view and many of the considerations urged in behalf of it are
interesting and stimulating. There are several points, however, at
which the writer's argument appears to me to be loose and open to
attack. For example, emphasis is laid on the fact that "there is no
general agreement among the students of instincts as to the number
and kinds of instincts. ' ' That there is such a lack of general agree-
ment among students of instincts no one would deny. But this does
not imply the non-existence of instincts; it merely reflects the lack
of scientific accuracy and completeness in this field of investigation.
MUST WE GIVE UP INSTINCTS? 95
This lack of accuracy and completeness in enumerating and classify-
ing the instincts is doubtless due in part to the relatively short
period of time that instincts have been made the objects of scientific
study. It may also be due to the specialized and partial points of
view from which instincts have been considered. Students in this
field have for the most part been concerned with instinctive tenden-
cies as these are implicated in various social processes and institu-
tions. It was inevitable, because of this circumstance, that confusion
and differences should arise with reference to the number and kinds
of instincts. But this confusion and these differences may be ex-
pected to gradually pass away as methods of study become more
refined and the points of view from which investigations are made
become more objective.
Again, the writer attempts to establish an analogy between the
theory of instinct as implying a prwri relation of the organism
to the environment and the theory of innate ideas ; and argues that
one is as objectionable as the other. He says: "To assume any
inborn tendency is to assume a priori relation between the organism
and stimulating objects; for every behavior is an interaction between
the organism and its surrounding objects. Such an assumption is
no less objectionable than the theory of innate ideas. As a matter of
fact both the theory of instinct and that of innate ideas are based on
the same conception ; namely, the conception of a priori relation of
the organism to external objects" (p. 648). Now if we are war-
ranted in speaking of an inborn tendency as implying a priori rela-
tion between organism and environment in an objectionable sense,
a very large part of the structural and functional equipment of the
organism must be regarded as involving the same implication. Re-
lations between the organism and the environment in the way of
behavior depend on and presuppose the skeletal system, vital organs,
receptors and limbs quite as much as they depend on and presuppose
tendencies to action, whether innate or acquired. There is a sense of
course in which these relations may be said to be a priori, namely
in the sense that the structures and functions which they bring into
operation are fitted in advance of experience to interact with the
environment in significant ways. But there is nothing mysterious
or miraculous about a priori capacities in this sense. They represent
the selective influence of the environment on the life stream from
which the organism springs. And whatever there is of a priori
character about an inborn tendency, i.e., an instinct, is to be ac-
counted for in the same way. Innate ideas, however, when they
have been ascribed to the mind, have not been thought of as being
a priori in this sense. Rather they have been referred to some tran-
scendental source which has been set over against and contrasted
96 JOURNAL OF PHlLOSOl'll V
with the empirical and biological agencies conditioning our nat
Mr. Kuo's contention that "hotli the theory of instinct and that of
innate ideas are based on the same conception; namely, that of
(i }>rinri relation of the organism to external objects," overlooks the
fact that the a priori character of the relation in the two cases is
entirely different.
Furthermore, it would seem that while Mr. Kuo rejects the notion
of an "inborn tendency" because it implies a priori relation of the
organism to the environment, he neverthless is forced to presuppose
this conception in accounting for the development of behavior. More
specifically, it is admitted that "the human infant is endowed with
a great number of units of reaction" (p. 658) ; and by "units of
reaction" is meant the "elementary acts out of which various co-
ordinated activities of later life are organized" (p. 658). Now
these "units of reaction" or "elementary acts" must be presumed
to involve innate neural tracts making possible just these responses
and no others, however simple and undifferentiated in character they
may be. We may call these responses "spontaneous" or "random";
but these are relative terms. They do not imply that we regard the
responses in question as being accidental or unconditioned. \Ve call
such responses spontaneous or random because they do not seem
to us to fall into any purposive system. And yet, they serve this
purpose at least : they are the stuff out of which, as Mr. Kuo says,
"the coordinated activities of later life are organized." At any rate,
these "units of reaction" or "elementary acts" with which the in-
dividual is endowed at birth presuppose neural tracts which can
only be described as "inborn tendencies" i.e., tendencies to perform
certain definite responses and no others; and as such they imply
a priori relation between organism and environment of the same
character which Mr. Kuo rejects in the case of instincts. Indeed,
these "inborn tendencies" which become overt actions upon the
presentation of the appropriate stimuli, are called, in another con-
nection, "non-specific instincts" (p. 658). Whatever we may call
them, they differ from instincts, as commonly understood, not in the
fact that they are irrelevant to environmental conditions as repre-
sented by the stimuli which excite them, whereas instincts involve
inborn tendencies which are relevant to the environment; but in
the fact that they are not organized into systems serving specific
biological ends.
But the argument at another point seems to me to imply the
existence of instincts in this more specific and purposive sense. I
have in mind the interpretation given Spaulding's experiment on
the flight of birds. "That the birds could fly without previous edu-
cation," says Mr. Kuo "was rather due to the maturity of reaction
MUST WE GIVE UP INSTINCTS? 97
system. . . . Given a mature reaction system and given an environ-
mental demand, a definite reaction can fairly be predicted" (p. 653).
Now it is important to know just what the writer means to include
within such a "reaction system" which is capable in advance of all
education, when properly stimulated, of executing an intricate and
significant action such as full-fledged flight. He speaks of the partic-
ular "reaction system" utilized in the flight of Spaulding's birds
as including "wings and other flying mechanisms" (p. 653). What
are these other "flying mechanisms" ? Do they not include nerve
centers and nerve connections ? And if so, must these not be thought
of as forming and ripening in advance of experiences having to do
with flight? To account for their tendency and ability, and the
tendency and ability of other mechanisms involved, to execute ade-
quate flying movements by reference to their maturity is beside the
mark; the question is, did this state of maturity result from former
efforts to fly? If not (as in the case of Spaulding's experiment), it
must have developed out of conditions which were present in the
organism at birth; in which case, I do not see that the notion of
instinct can be excluded from a scientific interpretation of the facts.
It is true, of course, that any action, instinctive or acquired, is
conditioned by the presentation of an appropriate stimulus. But the
stimulus is not the cause of the action ; there is no mechanical equiva-
lence between the stimulus and the response that we are able to make
out. It is only a cue for the execution of movements provided for
in some ' ' reaction system. ' ' And given the stimulus and the ' ' reac-
tion system" we can predict the response to be expected only if we
have in mind the purpose served by such mechanisms as are under
consideration. We can be certain, for example, that birds kept in
small boxes until their wings and other flying mechanisms have
matured will fly when there is an environmental demand for this
action, because we know in advance that wings and the mechanisms
connected therewith are developed for flying. Without this advance
information, turning the birds loose in the air with nothing to support
them might, for all we could tell, result in any other action as well
as in flight. And so it is in the case of any combination of stimulus
and "reaction system" : our ability to predict a definite response
always presupposes an insight into the functional character of the re-
lationship involved. Mere knowledge of the stimulus as a brute fact
and of the reaction mechanisms as so many structural entities is not
sufficient. This means that the primary condition of significant
activity, as well as of spontaneous or random movement, is internal
rather than external. Whether we think of this condition in terms
of McDougall's "drives" or "springs to action" or in terms of Mr.
Kuo's "reaction systems," the emphasis falls on the neural struc-
98 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
tures of the organism rather than on environmental factors. And
however complex this inner tendency to action is, and however much
of its complexity and significance it may owe, at any moment of its
history, to the modifying influences of education or training, it
presupposes a minimum core or foundation in the inherited struc-
tures of the organism without which it could not have had a begin-
ning. The minimum core or foundation thus presupposed, in so far
as it is inborn, and in so far as it makes possible significant inter-
actions with the environment, is, it seems to me, on the basis of Mr.
Kuo's own argument, deserving of the name "instinct."
J. R. QEIGER.
COLLEGE or WILLIAM AND MART.
THE MODIFICATION OF INSTINCT
IN an article on "The Modification of Instinct from the Standpoint
of Social Psychology," published in the Psychological Review,
volume 27, 1920, pp. 247-69, I took the position that instinct could
be modified by habits formed prior to the instinct's appearance. As
a partial support for this view, I cited the following observation
made by C. O. Whitman upon pigeons :
If a bird of one species is batched and reared by a wholly different species,
it is very apt when fully grown to prefer to mate with the species under which
it has been reared. For example, a male passenger-pigeon that was reared with
ring-doves and had remained with that species was ever ready, when fully grown,
to mate with any ring-dove, but could never be induced to mate with one of his own
species. I kept him away from ring-doves a whole season, in order to see what
could be accomplished in the way of getting him mated finally with his own
species, but he would never make any advances to the females, and whenever a
ring-dove was seen or heard in the yard he was at once attentive.
Professor H. A. Carr, in editing the Whitman manuscript, also
directed attention to the principle involved. Since the publication
of my paper, this interpretation has been questioned first by Pro-
fessor James Leuba in private correspondence and last by Mr.
Zing Yang Kuo, in a most interesting paper upon "Giving up In-
stincts in Psychology," this JOURNAL, Volume 18, 1921, pp. 656-7.
The criticism urged is that the behavior of the pigeons so modified
was not an instinct but a habit. The passenger-pigeons' choices of
mates from their own species are themselves, so it is said, the result
of training and association and are not innate. Therefore, so the
conclusion runs, we do not have the modification of an instinct,
but merely the supplanting of one habit by another.
The proper understanding of much human and animal behavior
depends to such an extent upon the principle here involved that
I wish to suggest the answer to the problem as I see it :
THE MODIFICATION OF INSTINCT 99
For the principle concerned, it makes no difference whether the
specific choice of mates by normally reared passenger-pigeons is
chiefly inherited or acquired. The modification brought about is
of the same general type as that found in the conditioned reflex,
save for the temporal location of the modifying influences. Whit-
man's observation gives us a case which is scientifically described
and convenient to use, but illustrations might be drawn as well
from man's sex choices, from the field of sex education, and else-
where. The sex instinct consists of those motor and glandular activi-
ties whose occurrence is due to an inherited synaptic connection
giving certain sensory impulses ready access to the necessary final
common paths. The instinct is certain behavior set up in muscles
and glands. It is not a stimulus, nor yet an inherited synaptic con-
nection, but is aroused by the former and controlled by the latter.
Considered most accurately the instinct is not modified unless effec-
tor activities are changed. We are considering, however, as others
have considered, the modification of the total inherited stimulus-
response situation. The immediate problem is whether or not habit-
ual associations formed prior to the appearance of the instinct have
set certain stimuli as the ones which will be effective in arousing the
instinct.
The detailed stimuli arousing sex behavior are unknown. In
general, however, two classes of stimuli are involved : visceral sensory
impulses corresponding to appetite, or desire, on the conscious side ;
and somatic sensory impulses aroused by the external object or by
the symbol which represents it. It is probable that in many animals
there is not a high degree of specificity on the somatic sensory side
and that these factors are supplied to a high degree by the experience
of the individual. However, the chance selection of somatic avenues
seems to be weighted in favor of cutaneous, olfactory and possibly
visual stimulation, i.e., the somatic avenues do not seem to be equally
open. On the visceral sensory side there seems to be an undoubted
native connection between internal secretions and the appearance
of sex responses in the somatic and visceral effectors (just as there
is a connection between stomach contractions and feeding activities
in normal animals). Exercise seems able only to vary this visceral
sensory factor and so affect the intensity of the appetite. Whether
or not this is actually the case, I do not know. (A diagram indicat-
ing the coexistence of the two types of sensory avenues is presented
on page 253 of my paper above cited.)
What Whitman's observations show is that prior to the appear-
ance of that typical form of response known as sex behavior the
associations established within the lifetime of the pigeon have
changed the stimuli which will later help in eliciting tlir rrr-ponse by
100 JOURNAL OF
varying the synaptic connections on the somatic sensory side of the
arc. The contrast between mating with members of the same species
in the one case and with members of another species in the other
case gives the essential fact. In ncitlu-r instance need the stimulus
be connected with the response through synapses set by heredity
in order that the modification of instinctive behavior conform to
the principle stated. If experiment should show that there is no
somatic afferent connection set by heredity to arouse the mating
response, the stimulus-response fact would of course be different
from what I am inclined to assume, viz., that along with the inherited
motor grouping goes a more or less definite nervous organization
favoring certain somatic stimuli. But such results, if secured, would
only further confirm the fact that associations formed prior to the
appearance of the instinct may modify it (either on the motor or
on the sensory side) when it does appear. In the food-getting in-
stinct in chicks one has an instinct similar to the sex instinct in
that the sensory components of each include both somatic and vis-
ceral factors and in that the somatic stimuli are less definite than
they later become. The chick pecks at first in response to visual
stimulation from any small object or in response to an overpowering
appetite in the absence of the proper external stimulus. With prac-
tise the somatic stimuli become confined largely to food objects. The
significant difference between the food-getting and the mate-getting
responses is that one appears shortly after birth and the other much
later. The food-getting instinct therefore offers little opportunity
for modification by experience either on the sensory or on the motor
side prior to its appearance.
I do not regard it as the function of this paper to discuss the
question of whether or not instincts do exist. The psychologists
who are questioning the existence of inherited forms of response may
do the science a service in forcing a more definite use of terms, but
so far the prospects of attaining their avowed goal do not seem
encouraging. To disprove the existence of instincts, one must either
disprove the existence of reflexes or prove that there is a significant
difference in kind between the behavior termed instinct and that
termed reflex. Mr. Kuo discounts the idea of the existence of in-
stincts partly because the behavior in question involves the coordi-
nation of simpler responses, and coordination he holds to be the
result of habit. However, physiological work indicates that even
the simplest reflexes are coordinated activities. The author also
disputes the existence of delayed instincts, inherited forms of be-
havior appearing at varying intervals after birth. Various angles
of this question have been long discussed, but I cite in opposition
to Mr. Kuo's view only Lloyd Morgan's somewhat theoretical dis-
BOOK REVIEWS 101
cussion of the moorhen's first dive and Yerkes's and Blooinfield's
experimental observations on the behavior of kittens in killing mice.
In order to disprove the existence of delayed instincts, it is not
sufficient to indicate that elements of the response have been exer-
cised before. It is necessary to account for the somewhat sudden
grouping of the elements into a significantly new response under
conditions where the influence of habit formation is experimentally
controlled and negligible.
The opponents of instinct will also have a very considerable
difficulty in handling such data, meager though it is, as that pre-
sented by Yerkes on the inheritance of savageness and wildness in
rats and by Whitman on the hybridization of pigeon behavior.
There are other interesting tout I think seriously mistaken
points both in Mr. Kuo's paper and in other recent papers couched
in a similar vein. My purpose, however, is merely to remove the
misapprehension which has come to my notice with reference to an
earlier proposition, viz., that associations formed prior to the appear-
ance of an instinct may modify the instinct when it appears.
WALTER S. HUNTER.
THE UNIVERSITY OF KANSAS.
Mysticism, Freudianism and Scientific Psychology. KNIGHT DUN-
LAP. St. Louis: C. V. Mosby Company, 1920. Pp. 173.
There are two main points of interest in this stimulating essay :
the pigeonholing of the Freudians with the mystics; and the re-
flex arc concept applied to perception and to the association of
ideas.
Mysticism is illustrated by quotations from Plotinus and Dionys-
ius, as well as from Maeterlinck and other modern mystics. It
pretends to reach a "third kind of knowledge," additional to that
gained through the senses and through inference.
This third and highest type of knowledge is to be had only in
rare moments of absorption in an adored object, and is ineffable
and incommunicable. The author concludes that this "knowledge"
amounts to emotion, pure and simple, with the sex element strong
in the emotional complex. But such emotional experience has no
claims to scientific recognition as a source of knowledge.
"Pseudo-mysticism," exemplified by belief in spirit communi-
cation and telepathy, differs from the genuine article in pretend-
ing to employ logical inference in reaching its conclusions, but its
logic is constantly vitiated by the use of ambiguous middle terms,
102 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOI'H Y
or "sliding terms," to use the author's expressive words. All
mysticism is impatient of clearly defined terms, and of the whole
painstaking procedure of science, and tries to solve the mysteries
of life by uncritical short cuts.
Scientific procedure is strenuous and exacting. It requires
constant touch with facts, parsimony in hypotheses, experimental
testing of hypotheses, verification of results by independent ob-
servers, and careful definition of terms.
Freud is shelved with the mystics by the canny bookseller;
Freud's popular appeal is to the love for the mystical. He and
his followers shrink from the arduous road of science, and pre-
tend to possess knowledge gained in some other way. His reason-
ings are vitiated by sliding terms. "Libido" is one such term;
it means either the genuine sex motive, or something, oh! very
much broader, just according to the momentary needs of the argu-
ment.
But the champion sliding term is the Unconscious. Sometimes
the unconscious is simply a working hypothesis which proves to
work well ; and sometimes it is a fact from which there is no escape.
Sometimes it is merely a "negative concept which can neither be
described nor defined"; and sometimes "we are already familiar
with a whole series of positive distinguishing features which dif-
ferentiate the unconscious psychic material from the rest, the
conscious and foreconscious. " The unconscious is not merely phys-
iological far from that! It is a kind of unconscious conscious-
ness, possessing the characteristics of consciousness when you need
them for the purposes of your argument, but not when they would
disturb the argument.
The Freudian confusion regarding the unconscious is in part
chargeable against the long-standing ambiguity of the term, "con-
sciousness," which has meant sometimes "awareness," and some-
times "objects of which one is directly aware."
From this grand ambiguity trouble has arisen continually. The strife between
' ' interactionism ' ' and ' ' parallelism ' ' : the conception of thought and conscious-
ness as stuff and things, and conversely, the conception of perceived objects as
figments of ' ' mind ' ' : are only details of the results, of this confusion. . . . We
eliminate at the start the metaphysical theories of epistemological dualism which
have played so pernicious a role in the history of the Anglo-German psychology.
Experience does not give us directly two worlds of objects physical and mental
. . . but merely a world of objects of which we are aware (pp. 117, 120, 121).
Though the author does not speak of this conclusion of his as
having any history, it seems rather reminiscent of things that have
been said by Wundt, James, and other representatives of the ob-
jectionable "Anglo-German psychology."
The ambiguity of the term " consciousness " is undoubtedly a factor con-
BOOK REVIEWS 103
tributing to the Freudian confusion over the " unconscious." . . . But this ver-
bal confusion although a great help to the theory of ' ' unconscious mind ' ' is not
its vital source. . . . The believer in ' ' unconscious mental processes "... might
state his claim as follows : In addition to mental processes, i.e., organic processes
involving consciousness (awareness), there are other processes, which while they
do not involve awareness, involve something which is more than mere physiological
process: something resembling consciousness, but not conscious. This " uncon-
scious mental ' ' factor is therefore an x, an unknown, and can not be pointed out
in any definite experience. Such an hypothesis might be made. One might also
hypothesize a y factor, a z factor, and an infinity of other factors, all equally
unknown, equally beyond experience " (pp. 125, 126).
Since, then, the hypothesis of an unconscious which is not purely
physiological is " removed from any possibility of verification,"
it is entirely valueless to science. "What its value or appeal may
be to those who eagerly embrace it the author does not stop to
inquire, but the answer is suggested in a highly critical review of
this same book by the psychiatrist, John T. MacCurdy, M.D. 1 Dr.
MaeCurdy bases an argument for the unconscious, as against "phys-
iology," on a law of creative synthesis, which can be seen in opera-
tion throughout the realm of natural science. Any synthetic com-
bination shows properties that could not be predicted from the
known properties of the synthesized elements as, for example, the
crystalline properties of common salt could not be inferred from
the known properties of sodium and chlorine. Analytical chemis-
try tells you of the elements composing the compound, but, to know
the compound itself, you must study it for itself, and not in terms
of its elements. In the same way, biological processes may be
analyzed into physical and chemical processes, but if for that rea-
son we neglected to study life processes as such, we should never
know much biology. In just the same way, mental processes are
composed of physiological processes ; but if we are satisfied to study
them only from the physiological side, we shall never know much
psychology. Psychology, the contention is, must stick to its own
order of facts, and to its own concepts, and not take refuge in
physiological interpretations. Therefore, it has need for the con-
cept of unconscious mental processes. The value of the "uncon-
scious," accordingly, is simply that it enables one to keep on using
psychological terms, even when dealing with unconscious proces-
ses.
I shall not undertake any criticism of this interesting conten-
tion, except to remark that it serves better as a justification for
the "co-conscious," in Morton Prince's sense, than for Freud's
particular brand of unconscious. In double personality there is
some evidence of a secondary synthesis of processes lying outside
i In an article entitled, ' ' Psychiatry and Scientific Psychology, ' ' in Mental
Hygiene for April, 1921, Vol. 5, pp. 239-265.
104 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPII Y
the main consciousness, and thus some reason for speaking of co-
conscious mental processes; but in the case of dreams, lapses, queer
impulses and fears, and iinanalyzed motives, I do not know that
anyone has seriously attempted to demonstrate the existence of
any synthesis additional to that which occurs in the conscious
process itself. The conscious process may show disturbance from
some source outside itself; but. unless it could be shown that this
outside source consisted of processes integrated into a total process
of the mental order, we should, even according to Dr. MacCurdy's
principle, regard it as physiological.
As against the unconscious in the sense of a storehouse of mem-
ories, Professor Dunlap puts the case with striking clearness:
An idea is not a thing like a written document which, after being in the active
files is taken out and stored in the transfer case. It is more like an act such as
snapping the fingers or striking a blow. I may snap my fingers ten times in suc-
cession: but no one supposes that the snaps have an individual existence after-
wards and are somewhere stored away as snaps which are no longer snapping. No
more does scientific psychology conceive of " ideas " as something which can be
stored away after they are through ' ' ideating. " In the one case as in the other,
there is a physiological basis which is modified by the act in such a way that the
act can be repeated at a future time (pp. 105-106).
Professor Dunlap, as the reviewer happens to know, has had
his eye on the psychoanalysts for many years, and his remarks
regarding them are by no means purely "academic." Some of
these remarks deserve quotation.
Reactions which later become a part of the general sex activity are found in
the child, and therefore pointed out as evidence of sex activity. It is as if one
should claim that the labored breathing produced by running to catch a street car
is sexual because the same labored breathing may occur during certain stages of
sex activity (p. 60).
As is readily seen, anything that can be dreamed of has a ready sex interpre-
tation. So that the telling of one 's dreams to anyone versed in the gentle art of
psychoanalysis is a matter in which your feelings of delicacy or prudence will dic-
tate if you realize the possibilities (p. 71).
This . . . characteristic is true in my opinion of all the cases in which the
Freudian analysis ' ' strikes oil. ' ' The situation which is discovered through
analysis is one which is perfectly well known to the patient, but the patient is
loath to confess it and does not realize its importance (pp. 79-80).
The psychoanalyst like the philosophical mystic is essentially tender-minded,
and can not endure the difficulties and disappointments of prosaic science. We
are not surprised, therefore, to find over and above the essential logical fallacy on
which the system is based, a characteristic nalvetl in reasoning and a character-
istic lack of orientation in facts (p. 93).
It is probable that psychoanalysts do produce cures, or at least marked alle-
viation of the condition, of certain cases. In other cases the results are less desir-
able. The question of vital importance is whether the harm done by the general
application of the method outweighs the good accomplished (p. 102).
Sometimes, a complex is built up by prolonged psychoanalysis. The patient,
BOOK REVIEWS 105
for example, is convinced that his neurosis is a result of the mother-complex; at
first he is astonished at the psychoanalyst's discovery but by the copious use of
symbolism, by the perversion of all the patient says and does, with that end in
view, he is finally persuaded that the complex originated in. him, and not in the
psychoanalyst. By constant contemplation of the complex and its magic relation-
ships, all the symptoms of the patient 's troubles become closely associated with it.
If now the psychoanalyst can exorcise the demon he has raised the patient may be
cured. ... In many cases, however, the demon refuses to be exorcised or if he
complacently leaves, returns shortly with ' ' seven worse than himself, ' ' and the
latter state of the patient is worse than the first (pp. 102-103).
Psychology has been culpably negligent in regard to the study of the desires,
and the one positive service which the Freudians have done is in emphasizing the
incompetence of our information (and also of their own information) on this
important subject (p. 159).
The psychologist who needs a little excitement should not fail
to read Dunlap's book, and follow it with some of the reviews of
it by psychoanalysts. Even MacCurdy, whose long review con-
tains much serious criticism, starts off by attempting to obscure
the issue with a dust-cloud of professional jealousies. He speaks
of an "antagonism at present existing between psychiatrists and
what we may term 'academic psychologists' . . . ." "Both the
psychiatrists and the psychologists insist that they are the ones who
should direct the study and treatment of those mental abnormali-
ties which lead to social unrest, economic insufficiency, and crime,
as well as to frank nervous and mental disease. ' ' And this in face
of Dunlap's statement: "The development of a sound psycho-
therapeutics will certainly not be the work of the general psy-
chologist. But when it is developed, it will be developed by
psychopathologists of thorough training in general psychology"
(p. 165). Later on in his review, referring to Dunlap's strictures
on the practise of psychoanalysis, MacCurdy exclaims: "How can a
college professor, presumably attending to his teaching and labora-
tory work, who has never had a medical education and has never
seen a patient except with a layman's eyes how can he have col-
lected material justifying such sweeping conclusions?"
Observe, however, the reaction of an anonymous psychoanalyst
in the Journal of Nervous and Mental Diseases:
The work in question is just such as one would expect of a blind rat caught
in a maze defeat, failure, going here and going there, misunderstanding, mis-
quoting, misreading, a tissue of stupid distortions, clumsy misrepresentations, and
silly evasions based upon a host of phobic prejudices. . . . The book, to us, is a
ludicrous defense reaction. Psychoanalysis he particularly singles out as a special
obstacle to science. Piffle! Nothing can obstruct science when it seeks to learn
about reality, not even Dunlap 's hobgoblin antics. The psychoanalytic hypotheses
are rather object lessons to make-believe scientists who entrenched behind their
academic chairs are screeching aloud their condemnation of many things they not
only do not understand, but of the very essence of which they seem fundamentally
106 JOURNAL OF PUILOSOVIl Y
incapable ever of understanding by reason of their emotional limitations. . . .
One would like further to characterize this unutterably stupid production, but
already too much space has been wasted in noticing it at all.
Certainly Dunlap has produced a very stimulating essay!
1 1 is second main discussion, on the "Reaction Arc Hypothesis,"
is more apt to arouse the psychologist. The reaction arc concept
is lh> <>ld reflex arc concept, "transformed by scientific psychol-
ogy" some time within the decade. 1910-1920. Apparently the
transformation in question has been the author's own achievement,
and has consisted in bringing perception and the association of
ideas into line under the general conception of complete sensori-
motor reactions.
The reaction arc hypothesis is opposed to the old ' ' phrenologi-
cal" conception of consciousness as "dependent on the specialized
functions of certain groups of neurons set apart from the other
sorts of neurons" (p. 132). The function of any one neuron is the
same as that of any other neuron, viz., "to be irritated or stimu-
lated, and to irritate in turn another cell" (p. 130). "Mechani-
cally, the function of the nervous system is the production of
responses: that is, the action of effectors in certain ways, conse-
quent upon specific action of receptors. . . . Certain definite
responses, or reactions of the organism, are accompanied by, or
involve, consciousness. . . . From these facts, the construction of
the reaction-arc hypothesis is inevitable. Consciousness (aware-
ness) is the result of, or the accompaniment of, or a part of (the
phrasing is for the present immaterial) 2 certain reactions involving
the activity of a complete arc from receptors to effectors" (pp.
133-134).
Seeing an object, for example, is a sensorimotor reaction, and
requires the activity of a "complete arc."
In the case of vision, experiments on animals, and human clinical cases,
make this point clear. Destroying the retinas; cutting the optic nerves; cutting
the optic tract behind the brain-stem; destroying the occipital lobes (of the cere-
bral hemispheres) to which the optic tracts lead; or cutting the connections
between the occipital lobes and the rest of the cerebral hemispheres: produce
the one and the same results blindness by interrupting the arcs from the visual
receptors to the effector systems, and destroying the possibility of a visual reac-
tion. There is no single system of efferent channels from the hemispheres which
the visual reaction need follow: hence, to block completely the visual reactions
by operation on the efferent side of the arc, all the efferent channels from the
hemispheres would have to be cut. This would cut off the possibility of not only
visual, but all reactions and the patient would not survive (p. 135).
This last is certainly unfortunate, as it means that the "reac-
tion arc hypothesis" can never be verified. We must, it would
2 The reviewer would prefer to say, " an attribute of."
BOOK REVIEWS 107
seem, relegate this hypothesis to the limbo of hypotheses "which
are by their nature removed from any possibility of verification,"
and which are consequently valueless. "We shall never know
whether a person could see, with all the motor channels from his
brain blocked off ; and, since we can not know, why should we care ?
Still, though the reaction arc hypothesis can never be positively
verified, it might perhaps be disproved by some less drastic experi-
ment. Some deduction from the hypothesis might conflict with
facts. The author helps us on our way, for he deduces various
consequences of his general hypothesis, and insists, moreover, that
in thus applying it to various problems he does not need to intro-
duce any accessory hypotheses.
He applies the hypothesis to the case of the conditioned reflex.
Here we have two stimuli, originally giving two different reactions,
but, through simultaneous activity, the two arcs "become con-
nected in the cerebrum so that the current flowing in over the af-
ferent part of the one, may now flow out over the efferent part of
the other" (p. 143). Such interconnection of reaction arcs in
the cerebrum explains "all habit formation, including both the
development of perception, and the association of ideas" (pp. 143-
144).
In the development of perception, the child may see and smell
an orange simultaneously, and the arcs for the visual reaction and
for the olfactory reaction, becoming connected in the cerebrum,
enable the child later to make the olfactory response to the visual
stimulus.
When he comes to the association of "ideas," the author makes
use of the well-known scheme for the chaining together of a series
of movements into a skilled performance, such as dancing. The
reaction A, terminating in the contraction of certain muscles, ex-
cites the muscle spindles in those muscles, and thus initiates a
second, proprioceptive reaction. Along with this proprioceptive
reaction, there is simultaneously excited by an external stimulus
the movement B ; and the afferent part of the proprioceptive arc be-
comes connected in the cerebrum with the efferent part of the
reaction B, quite after the pattern of the conditioned reflex. In
this way, through the mediation of the proprioceptive arc, move-
ment B becomes attached to movement A, and no longer requires
its own original stimulus.
Now, since an "idea" is to be conceived as a sensorimotor reac-
tion, it must give rise to a proprioceptive reaction in the way just
explained, and this proprioceptive reaction (or the afferent half of
it, extending from the muscle spindles to the brain), must be the
intermediary between one idea and the next in an associated chain.
108 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOl'll Y
If ideas are dependent on reactions, and if ideas are capable of association,
it must be that the ideational reaction-arcs are of such a nature that the com-
pletion of one reaction may initiate another. Since reaction arcs terminate in
muscles and in glands, it must be that in one of these tissues lie the necessary
receptors of the thought-arcs. The receptors in glands are as yet conjectural,
and the glandular response is not of such a nature that we could assume it to
IK- the stimulus of reactions as prompt, as manifold, and as finely graded as
thought- reactions apparently are. The striped muscles, however, are provided
with a plentitude of receptors in the " muscle spindles," and the muscular
responses are quick, finely graded, and of great complexity, competent to initiate
reactions of an endless variety. The muncle-receptors are, therefore, in all prob-
ability, the beginnings of the thought-arcs (p. 147).
Here we have a very specific deduction from the general reac-
tion arc hypothesis, and it appears that this deduction can be put
to the test of facts. Since the muscle-spindle intermediary be-
tween two ideas is necessarily "finely graded, and of great com-
plexity," and also highly specific, in order to give the specific
sequence of "ideas," it certainly should follow that the amputa-
tion of an arm or a leg would break up many definite associations.
Loss of the muscle sense, as in tabes, should break up associations
of ideas, as it is known to interfere with skilled sequences of move-
ment. Dr. MacCurdy, in the review already mentioned, brings
forward still more striking evidence:
If thought originates in muscle perceptions and he evidently means this
laterally then destruction of the muscles must abolish ideas. There are many
nervous and muscular diseases in which muscle tissue disappears almost entirely.
In these thinking is usually undisturbed. It is possible for an individual to live
with his spinal cord divided in the neck so that there is no connection between
the brain and any voluntary muscle except those of the head and neck and the
diaphragm. Thinking is still possible and may be acute. In case it were urged
that thoughts were initiated by the vocal, mouth and neck muscles, it is easy to
point to diseases where these are atrophied or have their nerve supply cut off from
the brain (p. 255).
This appears like a complete disproof of the reaction arc hypo-
thesis as applied to the association of ideas. The only line of de-
fense which our author has prepared against such an attack is
briefly indicated in the following passage:
The reactions are ultimately abbreviated or short-circuited. . . . The com-
plete muscular reaction is necessary during the learning process, but is largely
eliminated, in the interests of economy, after the series have been thoroughly
mechanized (p. 153).
But against the adequacy of this defense it may be urged: (1)
that, according to the hypothesis, at least some imperfectly mechan-
ized associations must be lost by the amputation of a limb; (2)
that amputation, etc., should be a very serious handicap in the
formation of new associations; and (3) that in admitting that,
BOOK REVIEWS 109
after mechanization, a thought can function otherwise than as a
complete arc, the author has notably receded from the boldness of
his first position. At first he held that "ideas are dependent on
reactions," i.e., on complete sensorimotor reactions since, accord-
ing to the reaction arc hypothesis, all mental processes are so
dependent. But now we learn that the complete reaction is largely
eliminated, and still the ideational processes occur. Apparently,
some deductions from his general hypothesis have seemed unaccept-
able to the author, and he has therefore introduced a qualification
which amounts to abandoning the hypothesis in its original clean-
cut form.
As a matter of fact, he did not succeed in holding fast to the
hypothesis even while applying it to the conditioned reflex and to
perception. He dealt not in complete arcs as his units, but in
half-arcs. The afferent half of one arc became connected in the
cerebrum with the efferent half of another arc. In the same way,
though he began his interpretation of the association of ideas with
the presupposition that he must deal in complete arcs, he had im-
mediately to split up his proprioceptive arc, and let the afferent
half of it function alone in mediating between one idea and an-
other. Any theory which dealt consistently with complete arcs
would have to seek the formation of new linkages in the periphery!
It is impossible to write a physiological psychology in terms of
the "complete arc" as unit. Learning, whether motor, perceptive,
or "ideational," requires a smaller unit. Facilitation and inhibi-
tion require a smaller unit. In the simplest cases of learning, such
as the conditioned reflex, the half arc seems to make a workable
unit. In reactions that involve a series of cerebral steps between
the sensory stimulus and the motor response (as in the case of see-
ing a signal, knowing what it signifies, and responding with an
appropriate skilled movement), the unit is smaller than a half arc,
and amounts to a single one of the cerebral steps. In our author's
fundamental statement, "that the function of any one neuron is
the same as that of any other neuron, viz., to be irritated or stimu-
lated, and to irritate in turn another cell," there is certainly
nothing that demands the "complete arc" as the unit. Rather,
the unit should be the stimulation of one neuron by another. This
is the single step in any psychoneural process; and there is no
reason compelling us to adopt any larger unit as the ultimate unit
of physiological psychology.
R. S. WOOD WORTH.
COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY.
110 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOVU Y
JOURNALS AND NEW BOOKS
THE BRITISH JOURNAL OF PSYCHOLOGY. June 1921.
The Instinctive Behavior and Enjoyment: C. LLOYD MORGAN (pp.
l-30).-"If I were asknl: 'What are you driving at in this and so
much else that you have written on instinct! ' the reply would be:
'My aim has been to find its place, as defined, in the evolutionary
story of life and of consciousness.' ' The manner in which the
mind acts as a directive agency in determining the course of in-
stinctive behavior and the way in which the mind acts as an impulsive
agency, as the driving power behind the observed behavior must
both be included; otherwise one has only a description in terms of
observed facts which are merely generalizations that formulate the
plan of the facts. 7s a Fatigue Test Possible f B. Muscio (pp.
31 46). -An essential pre-condition of experimentation designed to
obtain a fatigue test is the knowledge that different degrees of fatigue
are present at certain times. It is justifiable to experiment with the ob-
ject of finding a rapid and convenient fatigue test. It is recommended
that the term fatigue be absolutely banished from precise scientific
discussion, and that the problem to be investigated be defined as the
determination of the effects of different kinds and amounts of work
(activity) upon mental and physiological functions: that is, that the
kind and amount of work be correlated directly with changes in
psycho-physiological functions, and not (as at present) indirectly by
means of fatigue. A Preliminary Study of the Reproduction of
Hand Movements: C. RODRIGO LAVIN (pp. 47-52). -The problem was
to determine the most favorable conditions for the learning and re-
production of hand movements. The conclusions indicate that (1)
in the early stages of practise all of the subjects attended to the
form of a movement rather than to its extent; (2) the points of move-
ment most speedily and accurately learned were the beginning and
end, and wherever sharp changes of direction occurred; (3) different
forms of hand movement were very readily coalesced or ' ' condensed. ' '
Suggestibility with and without Prestige in Children: F. AVELING
and H. L. HARGREAVES (pp. 53-75). -The results show that general
suggestibility is greatly modified by the specific conditions and ele-
ments of the whole situation, which vary in individual cases, accord-
ing to experience of it and knowledge of it. There is no ascertained
tendency for suggestibility to go with other "general" factors such
as general intelligence, perseveration, oscillation, or motor dexterity.
There is small correlation between it and common sense regarded as
consisting largely of affective and conative elements; but none if
common sense is considered as a purely copnative quality. Recent
Work in Experimental ^Esthetics: EDWARD BUIAOUGH (pp. 76-99).-
NOTES AND NEWS 111
No work of an experimental kind has, to the writer 's knowledge, been
carried out since 1914, and what is meant 'by "recent" are experi-
ments undertaken between 1900 and 1914. It is the lack of experi-
mental work during the last six years which prompted the writer
to survey the earlier results. The writer emphasizes that until the
conceptions with which philosophies of art are wont to operate are
illuminated by actually and accurately observed experiences of many
persons, instead of being vaguely apprehended and rashly general-
ized personal introspections of their authors, little will be done by
interminable discussions of such topics. Critical Notice: G. UDNY
YULE (pp. 100-107). A review of the revised and expanded edition
of The Essentials of Mental Measurement by William Brown and
Godfrey H. Thomson. Publications Recently Received. British Psy-
chological Society Membership List.
Brierly, Susan S. An Introduction to Psychology. London : Meth-
uen & Co. 1921. Pp. 152. 5 s.
Dopter, M. Les Maladies Infectieuses pendant la Guerre (fitude
epidemiologique). Paris: Felix Alcan. 1921. Pp. 308. 9 fr.
Mandonnet, P. and Destrez, J. Bibliographic Thomiste. Le Saul-
choir, Kain, Belgium. 1921. Pp. xxi +116. 10 fr.
Moore, Jared Sparks. The Foundations of Psychology. Princeton
University Press. 1921. Pp. 239. $3.
Myers, Caroline E. and Garry C. Measuring Minds: An Examiner's
Manual to Accompany the Myers Mental Measure. New York
and Chicago : Newson & Co. 1921. Pp. 5.5.
Sellars, Hoy Wood. Evolutionary Naturalism. Chicago and Lon-
don: The Open Court Publishing Co. 1922. Pp. xii+343.
$2.50.
Smallwood, William Martin. Man the Animal. New York: The
Macmillan Co. 1922. Pp. xiv+223. $2.50.
de Unamuno, Miguel. The Tragic Sense of Life in Men and in
Peoples. Translated by J. E. Crawford Flitch. (With an In-
troductory Essay by Salvador de Madariaga.) London: Mac-
millan & Co. 1921. Pp. xxxv +332. 17 s.
NOTES AND NEWS
A copy of the second edition of Moral Values and the Idea of God,
by W. R. Sorley has recently reached us. These Gifford Lectures of
1914 and 1915 were originally published in 1920, and were reviewed
in our issue of November 18, 1920. The author prefixes this second
112 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
edition with the following brief preface: "In preparing this edition
I have kept in view the criticisms of the book which have come into
my hands, but I have not introduced new matters of controversy.
The few errors which have been pointed out by others or discovered
by myself have been corrected silently ; and certain portions of the
argument, where experience has shown that there was a possibility
of misunderstanding, have been made clearer and more pointed in
statement. The only addition which needs to be recorded is a short
discussion on the relation of foreknowledge to freedom, a topic dealt
with too dogmatically in the first edition."
The Southwestern Philosophical Association held its second an-
nual meeting on December 28, 1921, as the guest of Occidental Col-
lege. Dr. Bernard C. Ewer, of Pomona College, presented a paper
on "A Dilemma in Ethics," and Dr. James Main Dixon, of the
University of Southern California, one on "The Philosophy of Sym-
pathy" as an expression of French and Scottish thinking. A dis-
cussion of Rivers 's treatment of instinct and of the unconscious was
offered by Dr. John Scott, of the University College of Cardiff,
Wales, and this year Mills professor at the University of California.
The following officers were elected for the coming year: President.
Ralph Tyler Flewelling, University of Southern California; Secre-
tary-Treasurer, Henry Nelson Wieman, Occidental College ; Member
of the Executive Committee, Bernard Capen Ewer, Pomona College.
The next meeting of the Association will be at Easter time.
The Philosophy Section of the Oklahoma Educational Associa-
tion met on Thursday, February 9, in Oklahoma City. Dr. Melvin
Rigg of Oklahoma City College presented a paper on the History of
the Logos Doctrine, which discussed St. John 's conception of Christ
as the Word of God, together with the antecedents of the Logos doc-
trine in Greek philosophy, and Hebrew theology.
The JOURNAL OP PHILOSOPHY has been unable for some time to
fill orders for complete files because of the lack of two early numbers,
Vol. II, No. 5, and Vol. Ill, No. 1 (March 2, 1905 and January 4.
1906). If any of our readers have copies of one or both of these
issues which they would be willing to part with, the JOURNAL would
be very glad to buy them at the rate of 50 cents a copy.
VOL. XIX, No. 5. MARCH 2, li,22
THE JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
A SUGGESTION REGARDING ESTHETICS
IN the past esthetics has been approached from three different
angles the critical, the philosophical, and the psychological.
On the whole these three methods of approach are fairly distinct,
and generally a book on esthetic subjects can be unhesitatingly
placed in one of these three classes to the exclusion of th<Tother
two.
Examples of the critical method of approach are in literature
such books as those by Matthew Arnold, Moulton, Brander
Mathews ; in painting those by Van Dyke, Berenson, Harold Speed ;
in music those by Dickenson, Prout, and the like. The approach
is personal. These men look at a work of art in the same way
that a newspaper critic does ; indeed, many of these men were news-
paper critics at one time in their lives, and have come to differ
from the general run of critics only by the superiority of their
judgment and power of expression. They are looked upon as ex-
perts like wine tasters. The public wants their opinion on art, and
they give it to the best of their ability. From the point of view
of the public it is a matter of faith and authority; from the point
of view of the critic a matter of long experience crystallized into
a sort of intuition.
It is entirely a personal matter. That does not mean that it
is a capricious matter, a question of mere opinion. The opinion
of a trained critic is never a mere opinion. It is the outcome of
long experience. What I mean by saying it is a personal matter
is that it is wholly a relation between a single critic and an inquir-
ing public. His judgment is what is wanted, and the basis of his
judgment is a secondary matter. His intuitive reaction is sought,
not the rational and scientific background for the reaction. Often
when a critic is asked why he holds an opinion, he finds it very
hard to explain. And that is no paradox, for a golfer can hit a
ball squarely and yet find it impossible to explain how he did it.
It is because a critic often does not know the reasons for his judg-
ment that he falls to ridiculing a work of art, concealing his em-
barrassment with laughter. The smaller the critic the truer this
is, for a great critic is willing to stake his reputation on his judg-
ment whether he can give reasons or not.
113
114 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
if a critic docs give reasons they are likely to be in the
nature of aphorisms, half truths half recognized as such, just one
remove from an immediate intuitive judgment. And in general
the more universal and sweeping the judgments a critic makes,
the less valuable; just the opposite from science where the more
universal the law the more valuable. The critical method of ap-
proach is not scientific, not disinterested, and dispassionate, accept-
in^ tin- authority and experience of nobody but only the logic of
the facts; but on the contrary is wholly a matter of personal ex-
perience and authority. It is, therefore, not a suitable method
for a science of esthetics.
Now, by saying that the critical method is not scientific, and
therefore that it is not applicable to esthetics, I am by no means
saying that it is a useless approach. On the contrary, if we should
ever have an established science of esthetics with a vast classifica-
tion of facts and verified laws, we should still want critics to be
doing then just what we are doing now. For a critic is to esthet-
ics a good deal what a doctor is to physiology. There is nothing
a doctor knows that is not to be found in physiology, yet doctors
have not outlived their usefulness. We still call upon them to
diagnose our ailments, and consider them much better for that pur-
pose than physiologists. And so in the future, if the future haa
in store for us a science of esthetics, we shall appeal not to an
esthetician but to a critic for a judgment about any new school of
art. And presumably the critic of this future will have studied
esthetics as the modern doctor studies physiology, and will be as
much superior to the modern critic as the surgeon of the present
is to the barber of the middle ages.
The second method of approach was philosophical. Examples
of this method are the esthetic writings of Kant, Hegel, Croce,
Bosanquet, and the like. The assumption behind this method is
that esthetics is a branch of philosophy inseparable from it, and
therefore to be treated philosophically. The first thing to do is by
a process of analysis to define beauty, and then we may draw the
consequences. The logic of this approach is quite convincing ; for,
it is argued, how can we know that anything is beautiful until we
first know what beauty is? It would appear that our first effort
should be to define beauty.
But in spite of the plausibility of this argument there seems
to be a quantity of evidence from external sources to show that
we can learn a great deal about a subject without waiting for a
definition of it, indeed that perhaps the definition has to wait until
we have learned this great deal about the subject. We have a
very respectable science of biology though we are still uncertain
A SUGGESTION REGARDING ESTHETICS 115
about the definition of life, and a very respectable science of
chemistry though we are still uncertain about the definition of
matter. Furthermore, we now feel well assured that our defini-
tions of life and matter never could have amounted to much prior
to our sciences of biology and chemistry which we developed with-
out finished definitions. Of course, we had crude definitions to
keep us from going completely astray, definitions that we were
willing to change from time to time as the facts seemed to indi-
cate, but both of these sciences have been developed without that
finished definition which philosophically seemed to be the first
prerequisite of science. Even mathematics does not follow the
philosophical method. The definitions of number and quantity
have undergone various changes as one discovery or another would
suggest, and only recently have been redefined. Even mathematics,
the so-called deductive science, developed without a perfect defini-
tion of its subject matter. That finished definition, judging from
the testimony of the sciences, is the last thing to be determined in
the development of knowledge rather than the first.
The science of esthetics, therefore, does not have to wait until
philosophy can give it a finished definition of its subject before it
can proceed to accumulate data. All it needs is some working
definition. A father does not keep his son at home until he can
send him into the world with a complete fortune; he gives his
son some pocket money and sends him into the world to make his
fortune. And now, of course, I do not mean that speculation as to
what that ultimate definition will be is valueless. Our curiosity
is impatient, and we wish to speculate about the complete nature
of things before we have complete knowledge. To see things as
a whole as well as possible is the function of philosophy, and that
is no little thing. But philosophy can still continue to seek the
true definition of beauty while the science of esthetics is plodding
in the dust of facts, and may perhaps be willing occasionally to
pick up some slight suggestion out of the dust. Philosophic inter-
est in the ultimate nature of life and matter does not seem to have
been damped by scientific activity in biology and chemistry.
The third method of approach was psychological. Of this the
work of Lipps, Him, Fechner, and a swarm of men whose articles
appear in psychological periodicals, are typical. The implied argu-
ment of all these men is that since the appreciation of beauty
is a conscious experience, esthetics is necessarily a branch of psy-
chology and obviously falls under the domain of the emotions.
When the psychology of the emotions is developed, it will then be
a simple matter to apply the general principles to the experience
of esthetic appreciation. Meanwhile, we can carry on a few simple
experiments on sensory appreciation, balance, symmetry, etc.
116 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
1 would be far from denying the value of these simple experi-
ments. They have given a great deal of important information,
but I believe any candid psychologist would be ready to admit
that the whole sum of information so gained or that ever will be
so gained would leave one only on the doorstep of esthetics. Sup-
pose we knew all that psychological experiment could tell us about
balance, symmetry, and linear combination, it would still be a
long distance from all these facts to the Amiens Cathedral. The
rest of it, the psychologist would say, lay in the psychology of the
emotions and the higher processes. Granted, and so esthetics must
wait until the psychology of the emotions is complete. Thus psy-
chology would tie esthetics to her apron strings with the same con-
vincing logic that philosophy would tie it to hers.
But how escape from psychology, it may be asked. Well, how
did psychology escape from philosophy? There is no greater fal-
lacy than the belief that the foundations of a science must be firm
before work can begin on the science itself. The metaphor is mis-
leading, for every material advance in the erection of the super-
structure brings about a corresponding advance in the making of
the foundations. A better metaphor would be of a tree, which
must have roots to stand, but whose roots grow with the growth of
the trunk and limbs. With such a metaphor in mind it would be
no paradox that a seedling science should require only a seedling's
roots, and not the broad and systematic radication of an ancient
and matured science. Esthetics is a seed dropped from the seed-
pods of psychology, and may sprout at once in independent soil.
Economics is also a seedling from psychology of such rapid
growth that it is almost overshadowing the parent tree. For eco-
nomics takes its departure too from conscious experience. It is
the science of a certain limited group of human desires viz., those
that lead to exchange. And the first rootlet that fed the science
and held it in its place was the concept of the economic man,
which on analysis proves to be an assumption of the nature of
human desires. On that assumption the science grew to consider-
able size. The assumption has since proved false, but it served
to nourish the science while it was young.
A similar assumption is what esthetics needs in order to develop
into a science. We shall never get such a science if we wait for the
intuitive judgments of critics to become organized into a consis-
tent system: we shall never get it if we wait till philosophy gives
us a perfect definition of beauty : we shall not get it if we wait for
psychology to clear up the field of consciousness. The three tradi-
tional ways of approach to esthetics begin splendidly paved but
soon dwindle to ribbon roads and presently are lost in underbrush
A SUGGESTION REGARDING ESTHETICS 117
and tangle. Esthetics must build its own road if it would be
developed. And all that it needs for starting that road is a work-
ing unit.
Now, a working unit is a form of working hypothesis, and in
this case at least it should not be made too exact or confining, or
it will destroy its own usefulness. If the staging for a building
is made so solid as to resemble the finished structure, it will cut
out the light and hinder if not make impossible the erection of the
building for which it was to be a means. The working unit for an
independent esthetics should be sufficiently open, and free, yes,
and ambiguous, to allow as large a number of men to cooperate
under it as possible, and as large a number of pertinent facts to be
distributed under it as possible. The aim of a working unit is not
to bring exact results but to bring big results.
If there are people who think that big results can only be
obtained through exactness, these people are much mistaken. This
is a fallacy similar to the one mentioned earlier, the belief that a
dependent science can only be developed if the fundamental science
upon which it depends has been completed. Science does not build
itself up from preestablished exact units, but moves progressively
from inexactness to greater, and greater, and greater exactness.
Physics is not yet the exact science it will be. Exactness is derived
from inexactness. We lose all if we try to make our working unit
of esthetics exact at once, for the chances are we shall make it
exact in the wrong direction. We must be satisfied to begin with
an inexact unit.
Furthermore, in the early stage of a science it is highly ad-
vantageous to employ a unit that is easily understood, a more or
less common-sense concept. For in the early stages of a science
there is no established school to train men to a method and a vo-
cabulary. The men working in the science will be widely scattered
and largely out of communication with one another. If a too recon-
dite term is used by one man, it is likely to be passed over by the
others who will substitute some favorite term of their own, and
presently there will be no one unit, but the same chaos we now
have. A recondite term is like a word in a dialect : a common-sense
term has a universality and a consolidating power which is worth
more than all else in a science struggling for life.
A common-sense concept, not too exact, capable of embracing
many facts, and of bringing into at least seeming agreement many
men these are the requirements of a working unit in esthetics.
Such a unit, I believe, has been groping its way towards recogni-
tion in the last few decades. It is the liking of a thing for itself in
contrast to the valuing of a thing as a means to something else.
118 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
It has been variously called "intrinsic," "disinterested," "inde-
pendent," "primary" value. It simply marks off the attitude
opposite to the practical attitude.
Nearly all prominent estheticians of the last century have this
concept at the core of their definitions. So with Bosanquet, Croce,
Santayana, Fechner, to mention only a few of the greatest. And
notice to what different philosophical schools these men belong.
These men differ from each other in their attempts to make their
definitions exact. They have in common the core of that inexact
common-sense concept of things valued for themselves independent
of all practical considerations. They feel, however, that this con-
cept is too wide and attempt to narrow it and make it exact. But
the moment they attempt to narrow it they are led one this way
and one that according to their personal predispositions and meta-
physical leanings. The consequence is that they all begin t<>
quarrel among themselves about the trimmings of their definitions
instead of getting down to work and accumulating facts under the
core of their definitions. If these men would let the trimmings go,
they could cooperate and work in harmony. Not that they should
totally forget their disagreements, for out of such disagreements
would ultimately come the possibility of bringing greater precision
into the working definition. But the emphasis should be thrown
on their points of agreement rather than on those of disagreement
if progress is to be made in an independent science of esthetics.
But, of course, none of these men had any such aim in mind. All
I wish to point out is that the unit I am proposing here is not
one I have arbitrarily made up, but one that already exists at the
bottom of most modern esthetic theory. And all that is needed is
to bring this crude core out into the light in all its starkness and
uncouthness, and in spite of its unprepossessing appearance to
accept it.
What we want at present is not a finished definition of beauty,
but something to gather facts about from which generalizations
may be made and perhaps laws determined, laws which in turn will
eventually refine and make precise the uncouth unit to which they
owed their discovery. The unit will circumscribe a field of experi-
ence which contains our esthetic facts, and that is all we have a
right to ask for in the beginning. If there is hope for a concrete
science of esthetics in the near future it lies in some such concept
as the one we have been considering. It assuredly does not lie in
criticism, or philosophy, or psychology.
STEPHEN C. PEPPER.
UNIVERSITY or CALIFORNIA.
ESTHETIC VALVES 119
ESTHETIC VALUES AND THEIR INTERPRETATION
THE paper of Mr. Pepper on a point in esthetics * raises a num-
ber of questions that would be interesting to discuss at length.
The following remarks are not offered as such a discussion and no
more is claimed for them than that they happen to be my opinions
at present.
Mr. Pepper puts excellently the contrast between esthetic criti-
cism and scientific formulation. Any critical estimate involves so
much of the critic's personal equation, Mr. Pepper thinks, that it
tends to be the reverse of scientific; it is not disinterested nor dis-
passionate. We should be suspicious of sweeping judgments in
esthetic criticism. But in science just the opposite is true, "where
the more universal the law, the more valuable. ' ' The critical method
of approach is, therefore, not a suitable method for a science of
esthetics.
This is nearly all true, but, I suspect, not for the reasons Mr.
Pepper has in mind. I agree that the method of "criticism" is not
scientific ; I agree, moreover, that it can not possibly be made so, no
matter how disinterested and dispassionate the critic might be. But
that is not because critical judgments are affected by a personal
equation, which, perhaps, they usually are. It is because the judg-
ment of criticism deals with an individual in its uniqueness, while a
judgment of the scientific type deals with a universal, i.e., with
something intended to be applicable to as many individuals as pos-
sible.
I am assuming, I think with Mr. Pepper, that criticism aims to
make us well acquainted with particular works, to bring us close to
them so that we not only recognize what they may have in common
with other works, but perceive also what is not duplicated anywhere,
unless it be in perfect copies. I do not claim that all criticism has
this function, but for the present I refer to the kind that does have
it. And this kind of criticism does seem to care only or chiefly about
the individual and to be indifferent to the type. And if the essence
of science is to be capable of statement in laws which are not imagi-
nary universals, but which convey a knowledge of certain constant
and repeating details of nature, criticism evidently can not be scien-
tific.
We can describe the nature of horses, and the nature of tuber-
culosis, but what exists are individual horses and individual sick
people. This, I suppose, is the natural subject matter of any science
of horses or science of medicine. One horse is, to be sure, like another
and yet just those respects in which one horse is not like another
i ' ' A Suggestion Regarding Esthetics, ' ' this JOUBNAL.
120 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
may be what "makes all the difference." In ethics rules are im-
portant, but we say often that a case must be judged on its own
merits. A science of ethics, however, must consist of rules or other
general statements. Yet, surely, a science of ethics exists, or ought
to exist, for the sake of its natural subject matter, just those in-
dividual cases that may show all manner of departure from type or
complication of type.
The phraseology of universals is no less essential to philosophy
than it is to science (admitting, for the moment, a difference). But
what is passed over is ignored just because it is not found in all
members of the type; and how significant or valuable this may be in
concrete human experience can be decided only by some other man-
ner of approach. Any method, then, which aims at propositions in-
tended to be true of indefinitely many individuals mast leave un-
noticed more or less of the actual content which another method
concerned with one thing at a time might pay full attention to. And
a science of esthetics, if a science at all, would be like other science
in this respect.
Is, then, a science of esthetics impossible? Candidly, I don't
know, but I suspect it is ; or, perhaps, I would prefer to say that we
already have it in the only sense that is worth insisting upon. For
the sake of what fruits would a science of esthetics exist? What is
its natural subject matter? Again I am not sure that I know, or
rather I would say that it may have various fruits and be about a
variety of things. That is a verbal matter; and provided the ques-
tions studied are not artificial questions, and the discussions not
confused by misunderstanding, it is a matter of no great conse-
quence. If, however, the study of esthetics is to lead us to esthetic
education, to experience marked by the possession of fine and organ-
ized esthetic values, and the constant activity of trained and discrimi-
nating senses, its purpose is not to lead us to something scientific
in the sense above indicated, but to the unique individual, to some-
thing not defined but perceived.
What escapes definition and coherent description in any work of
art is precisely what is unique, interesting, and possibly most valu-
able. A work that has none of this is "academic"; it embodies the
rules and nothing else. We might propose as a definition of the
academic : That which is made according to a rule where the rule is
more obeyed than used. Of course, a science of esthetics may aim
to give us the academic, and perhaps it can not do anything else,
unless we consider that it should be a body of information useful
in producing esthetically valuable objects. But such objects are.
of course, individual, and a great deal of technical, scientific knowl-
edge is required for their production. Consider what an architect
ESTHETIC VALVES 121
needs to know, or a capable composer. A vast amount of science is
necessary that the world may contain what we call works of art. It
does not occur to anyone to say that this knowledge constitutes a
science of esthethics, but, after all, why should we not say so? It
is, at least, the effective knowledge that is indispensable if what we
call art is to be systematically created.
And now I come to Mr. Pepper's "suggestion," viz., that the
esthetic object as such is one that is liked without reference to any
utility and, perhaps, in spite of it. As Mr. Pepper rightly says, the
contrast between "intrinsic" value and valuable instrumentality, or
to use an old and honest pair of terms, between beauty and use, is
one of the commonplaces of the subject. But we have not yet seemed
to get anywhere from this point of departure. If the distinction is
to bear any fruit, it must be interpreted.
In this conceptual formulation, the beautiful and the useful are
very sharply discriminated, and if one is still at the dialectical stage,
it may seem that beauty and use must be separated in fact as they
are in definition. The experience of so many of us in finding art only
in museums is very misleading. Many, at least, of the treasures of
the great galleries were produced to be a part, and perhaps a very
important part of a church. An altar piece, on the altar where mass
is said, may or may not be beautiful, but while in its original posi-
tion it is preeminently "useful" ; subsequently removed to a mu-
seum, its utility is lost and its beauty and lack of use characterize
what is now classified as a work of art. Surely the problem of our
day is how to overcome the separation how to promote a demand
that utilities shall be appropriately esthetic, and how to make esthe-
tic value pervade common things and their use, not artificially and
self-consciously, but simply and spontaneously. What knowledge
is it that will help us to do this ? I can not think it is any science of
esthetics as we are inclined to use that word, but also, I repeat, I
can not see why we should not call esthetic science all that science
that an artist in one field or another must have if his genius is to
have tools to work with. The same science may be used for other
ends, but what of it?
Thus far, I have spoken as though in esthetics one were always
dealing with art. That is as false as anything can be. I suppose a
new wire fence is usually a thing of esthetic delight to the farmer
who has just set it up. A good cow, a strong horse, a favorite tennis
racquet, are likely to be objects of esthetic affection. I hope I may
be pardoned for suggesting again 2 a translation of the beauty-utility
distinction into slightly different terms.
2 Cf. Some passages in an article entitled ' ' Value and Causality, ' ' this
JOURNAL, Vol. 15, No. 4, p. 85.
122 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
Utility considers effects to be produced; it, therefore, envisages
the future. A type of value that is quite independent of conse-
quences will presumably be an interest in a present; witness the
eloquent conclusion of Pater's fine book, The Renaissance. The
present and the future are both objects of concern, and the future is
something to be concerned about, because, sooner or later, it will
not be future any longer but present, and life or experience is always
in a present. If the present is always merely a scaffolding for the
future, if it never has any value of its own, life can not be said to
have much success. Let the success of the present be all in dreams
of the future that is indeed often the noblest and happiest pres-
ent but all the present moments of any man make up all of that
man's life. If it were not for time and the future, I do not see how
there could be any such thing as consequences or instrumentality in
the natural sense. From this point of view, all values of the present
are esthetic values whether they pertain to works of art or to any-
thing else, and all values actually attained are attained in a present.
The translation of the beauty and use contrast into the temporal
contrast of present and future is not advanced here as of any im-
portance, least of all as of any importance for esthetics; but it may
be interesting nevertheless. Of that the reader must judge; he
should remember, too, that such contrasts are likely to be discrimina-
tions in analysis and not separations in fact. Whether or not the
temporal contrast is significant for esthetics, it is fundamental in
morals, in life. The puritan moralist despises the lover of beauty
because he lives too much in a present. The lover of beauty dislikes
the moralist who impoverishes life by postponing the enjoyment of
its fruits. To each of these the word ' ' good ' ' has a different meaning.
To a certain extent we could translate beauty and use into another
contrast, the individual and the group. No such translation should
be overworked or regarded as absolute, but with this proviso any such
translation, if based upon empirical relations, is likely to clarify
more or less.
Why should a distinction that has proved so barren as the dis-
tinction of the useful and the valuable useless nevertheless persist?
While the distinction as phrased may be too much in terms of a logi-
cal antithesis, it may yet represent something that is both real and
important. I think Mr. Pepper is right in indicating the distinction
as important, not as a dialectical major premise, but as a point of de-
parture, as something to interpret in terms of relevant experience.
So much tragedy in life is produced by esthetic appeals to the soul,
and so much dignity by other esthetic appeals. Fruits ripen, if you
like, in the future but they are enjoyed in the present; and when
they belong to what we call the past, it is the present that they
ESTHETIC VALUES 123
brighten or stain, and the future that they influence. And when
we say they influence the future, we mean that they influence a
present yet to come. As I have said the temporal contrast may not
be very relevant, if terms are used absolutely, but it is a distinction
that all empirical moralists and all directors of conduct must, one
may suppose, have to make continually.
And now, if I seem to abandon what I have so labored to express,
that, perhaps, only illustrates my thesis that life is continuous and
one moment plays into another, but that one moment may be dis-
tinguished from another. Interpret the distinction of beauty and use
in some other way; interpret it in as many ways as possible, since
any interpretation is the noticing of some feature or some relation;
in what is subtle and interesting.
In nature no factor is more important than the factor of time r
but of this logic takes hardly any account; and though time is an
important term in physics, it is so in a sense very different from that
which gives it such a role in the literature of human feeling. The
arithmetic of life insurance companies brings us closer to what time
means to those that live and grow old and to those that write his-
tory; to those, too, who have inherited the patrimony our ancestors
achieved.
For, in any case, the depth and solidity of the esthetic factor in
a person's life depend very much upon what kind of a world he is
permitted to live in, depend, that is, greatly upon the degree to-
which normal and sharable esthetic values have been brought into a
heritage for him or her by the past. A world rich in what is digni-
fied, simple and beautiful may not be more "useful" than another
in the usual sense of that now somewhat unhappy word, but it is a
great deal better. And in the larger sense of the word, and the truer
one, it is supremely useful, since it perpetuates itself. To possess
this patrimony and to transmit it with the addition of what we have
made it yield, not as a dead past but as something that binds one
generation to another and makes a single life out of the lives of many
men or of many nations, to hold together a community of the spirit,
not merely in space but in time, seems to me a large part of what
we may reasonably call our esthetic responsibility, something that
the study of esthetics ought to encourage and promote.
WENDELL T.
COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY.
124 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
IMMEDIATE INFERENCE AND THE DISTRIBUTION
OF TERMS
IN tlu- interpretation of exclusive and exceptive propositions
there is a difficulty pertinent to the discussion carried on in
this JOURNAL 1 by Professor Toohey and Professor Dotterer as to
the distribution of the predicate in the partial inverse of affirma-
tive propositions, and as to "immediate inference" and the distri-
bution of terms in general.
The exceptive proposition offers a privileged example of how,
in an actual situation within a limited universe of discourse, the
]>;u-tial inverse of a true proposition may well assert what is not
true. All but 8 is P, we are told, is correctly expressed by the A
proposition, All non-8 is P; and from this is correctly derived
Some S is- not P. It is agreed that we have no right to say No 8
is P- and examination of the meaning of All but 8 is P will con-
vince, I believe, that strictly taken it need not express the situation
from which alone Some 8 is-not P is justified. When Francis I
wrote home "All is lost but honor," he undoubtedly meant that
honor was not lost ; and in general we should rightly hold the man
who used exceptives to suggest what he knew to be untrue as at
least not a model of truthfulness. Yet it must be admitted that,
if Francis had lost honor as well as all else but preferred not to
say so, he would have told, not the whole truth to be sure, yet not
strictly an untruth; inasmuch as he had made no assertion about
honor but had merely held it apart from the assertion he did make.
And in fact, our exceptives frequently arise simply from ignorance
which is properly recognized in the limitation of our judgment,
or from a courteous, discreet, kindly, timid, or malicious reserva-
tion of statement. The conventional "present company excepted"
is notoriously untrustworthy in any positive implication. Or let
us agree that any triangle must be scalene, isosceles, or equilateral.
Then to say "scalene triangles" is to say "all triangles except
celes and equilateral triangles." And scalene triangles have
three sides. Substituting the equivalent term, we may say "All
triangles except isoceles and equilateral triangles have three sides"
and, if we had to discover the number of sides of triangles by
inspection, we might well, after an examination only of scalene
triangles, make this assertion ; but it would be none the less false to
say that some isosceles or equilateral triangles do not have three
sides. In short, the exceptive proposition is a statement which is
said to be correctly represented by a proposition from which is
correctly derived a proposition which is not necessarily implied
i Vol. XVII, pp. 519-522; Vol. XVIII, pp. 320-326.
INFERENCE AND DISTRIBUTION 125
by the original statement. It appears, then, that either All non-8
is P does not adequately and simply express the import of All but
8 is P OT the process of inversion is in some cases illicit.
The case of the exclusive proposition is more illuminating;
since here the untruth, though of precisely similar nature, may be
taken as not the result of inversion, and in any case does not in-
volve the inversion of an affirmative proposition. None but 8 is P
is ordinarily represented, for syllogistic purposes, by All P is 8;
and the converse of this is Some 8 is P. If it be said that the ex-
clusive is more properly represented by No non-8 is P, then All P
is 8 is the obverted converse, Some 8 is P the partial inverse. But
here it is the partial inverse of an E proposition, and there is no
infraction of the rules of distribution. The possible falsehood,
however, remains as with exceptives ; for Some 8 is P is frequently
in actual cases not true. Admittedly we have no right to say All
8 is P ; and since no assertion is made of 8, wherein do we get the
right to speak even of a part of 8 ? Surely ' ' No admittance except
on business" ordinarily implies that some of those intent on busi-
ness are admitted, but since other rules unnamed or other existing
circumstances may well exclude all actual persons applying, we can
not with strict assurance say that anyone is admitted. And this
is not mere abstract quibbling, for the case is often actual because
of ignorance, discretion, or the mere inadvisability of including
all conditions in one proposition. I may offer a college course
which is truly described as elective (none but those who elect it
take it), and as open only to seniors (none but seniors take it) ;
and if there is no senior, or no one who desires it, or no senior
who desires it, it will be false to say that some who elect it take it or
that some seniors take it. It might be quite true that only a mathe-
matical genius can square the circle; it is certainly not true that
some mathematical geniuses can square the circle. In short, it
appears that either No non-8 is P is not a perfect expression for
None but 8 is P, or there is a loss of truth in obtaining the obverted
converse of E (here, All P is 8), or there is a loss in obtaining the
converse of A (here, Some 8 is P).
In general it appeal's that by the use of accepted methods of
interpretation we may from everyday assertions obtain propositions
which are seen to be untrue or possibly untrue when referred to
the actual situation from which the original assertion sprang and
of which the original assertion is true. The error at times shows
as a formal violation of the rule against going from an undistrib-
uted to a distributed term; but is broader and apparently not to
be solved by a solution of the difficulty about distribution, since it
appears where there is no evidence of that difficulty. It may
126 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
further be noted that, inasmuch as the error is real, it directly
impugns not the rule of distribution but the processes wherein that
rule fails.
Now Dr. Keynes, whose doctrine as to the distribution of the
predicate in the partial inverse of an A proposition Professor Dot-
terer seeks to amend and Professor Toohey rejects, seems to me
at least to point the way to the solution of the problem, though
not in his direct treatment of "validity of inversion" in the fourth
edition of his Formal Logic. His discussion in the third edition
seems to me the better, and the real clue to the larger problem is af-
forded by a footnote at the beginning of the chapter on Immediate
Inference. 2 The usually accepted explanation is that of the fourth
edition, according to which in inversion of All 8 is P we tacitly
assume the premise Some things are not P. "The conclusion, Some
not-S is not P, may accordingly be regarded as based on this
premise combined with the explicit premise All S is P; and it will
be observed that, in the additional premise, P is distributed."*
Now the introduction of this assumed premise does seem to pro-
vide a proper distribution for P; yet, taken strictly, how does it
act as premise? It can not be combined with the other premise
in any possible syllogistic form to give the required conclusion.
And if the mere presence of a distributed term in an assumed
proposition gives us the right to distribute that term in the series
of transformations of the proposition with which we are working,
it gives us decidedly too much; for it would justify any distribu-
tion of that term and merely abrogate the rule of distribution alto-
gether. We could go simply from All S is P to All P is 8. Professor
Dotterer is quite right in pointing out that the distribution of a
term is not an absolute matter, but is relative to some other term
or terms. Distribution is a property of terms "in syntax." We
can not hunt around for any proposition in which a certain term
is distributed, and then proceed blithely to distribute it in some
other series of transformations. On the other hand Professor
Toohey is quite right in maintaining that to make a term distrib-
uted or undistributed relatively to some one other term and to
deny any pertinency to this distribution elsewhere is equally to
take all value from distribution. Within any series of transforma-
tions of a proposition or within any true syllogistic series (proposi-
tions connected by competent middle terms), we have the right to
speak of distribution or lack of distribution simply ; but not as be-
tween unconnected propositions. A distributed term, that is, is
distributed with regard to the other term in its proposition and to
Keynee: Formal Logic, 4th ed., p. 126, n. 1; 3d ed., p. 93, n. 1.
* Ibid., 4th ed., pp. 139 ff.
INFERENCE AND DISTRIBUTION 127
the other terms in other propositions connected therewith by distrib-
uted middle terms. An undistributed term is undistributed with
regard to the other term in its proposition and to the other terms
in other propositions connected therewith by middle terms, distrib-
uted or undistributed.
But this is not all. With regard to its own contradictory, and
to at least some part of the contradictory of the other term in its
proposition if that proposition is universal, any term is always
distributed. For by the principle of contradiction the contradic-
tory of any term is excluded from the whole of that term; and,
since in all universal propositions at least some portion of the ex-
tension of the contradictory of the other term must coincide with
some portion of that of the contradictory of the term in question,
with regard to at least that portion of the contradictory of the
other term the term in question will be distributed. But, of course,
this is true only if there are contradictories to these terms. For if
there be no contradictory to the term in question, then it will not
necessarily be distributed with regard to any portion of the con-
tradictory of the other term. And if there be no contradictory to
the other term, it would be meaningless to assert distribution with
regard to some portion of it. And this is why the assumption of
the existence of the contradictory of the original predicate vali-
dates the partial inverse: not that we manufacture any premise
therefrom, but that, if that contradictory exist, the term by its
very nature will always be distributed with regard to it ; and that
obviously in the A proposition with which we start, if the contra-
dictory of the predicate exist, then the subject must have a con-
tradictory which in some part must coincide with the contradictory
of the predicate; and with regard to that part the predicate will
always be distributed as it were by right of eminent domain. Now
abstractly a contradictory can be made to any term; but actually,
of course, we may have to deal with an all-inclusive genus, either
absolutely or as an exhaustive species within some explicitly limited
universe of discourse. The case, then, in the matter of the partial
inverse is this. The explanation does not lie in any premise, but
does lie in the assumption of the existence of the contradictory of
the original predicate. For if that contradictory exist, then the
predicate, being always distributed with regard to it, must also be
distributed with regard to whatever portion of the contradictory
of the original subject coincides with it; and somewhere within
the same universe these two infinites must at least partially coin-
cide. We have thus the right to say Some not-S is not P, since P
must be distributed with regard to some portion of not-S. But actu-
ally we may have as predicate an exhaustive species which allows no
128 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
existing contradictory, as if we say "All is lost but honor" when
really there is nothing not lost. In such a case, going from "All
things other than honor are lost" to "Some honor is not lost," we do
go from a lack of distribution to distribution, and from truth to
falsehood.
Now this is but an instance of the general principle given first
by Dr. Keynes in the footnote already referred to. "We proceed
on the assumption that each class represented by a simple term
exists in the universe of discourse, while at the same time it does
not exhaust that universe. This assumption appears always to have
been made implicitly in the traditional treatment of logic."
It is that assumption, together with the acceptance of the logic-
ally prior principle of contradiction which necessitates the distri-
bution of any term relatively to its contradictory, and together
with the nature of the relations expressed in categorical proposi-
tions which through the principles of contradiction and excluded
middle necessitates the coincidence of at least part of the con-
tradictory of one term with at least part of the contradictory of
the other term in all universal propositions, which validates the
partial inverse of the universal affirmative proposition. And it
is that assumption which is apt to give rise to error when the pro-
cedures based thereupon are applied to actual situations not con-
forming thereto; not only in the partial inverse of A, but, as we
have seen with exclusive propositions, in the partial inverse of E,
where the lack of conformity is in the assumption of the existence
of the original predicate or of the contradictory of the subject;
and, indeed, in other interpretations, even, conceivably, in so direct
a one as limited conversion or simple conversion or simple obver-
sion. The formal violation of the rule as to distribution is apparent
in one case only, not because of any peculiar invalidity of the in-
version of A propositions, but simply because for other reasons the
partial inverse of A is the only case in which an originally undis-
tributed term reappears distributed with regard to the contradic-
tory of the other term ; but there are several in which the contradic-
tory of an originally undistributed term is distributed. And
whence comes this right? From the fact, of course, that the con-
tradictory of a term is necessarily distributed with regard to that
term, and hence, in affirmative propositions, with regard also to at
least part of the other term, and, in negative propositions, with
regard to at least part of the contradictory of the other term. It
is thus (with one exception, the full contrapositive, which will be
noticed presently) that in the scheme of eduction contradictories
will be found distributed. In general: Any term is distributed
with regard to its contradictory and its contradictory with regard
INFERENCE AND DISTRIBUTION , 129
to it. When the term is put into a proposition, further results
follow from this. In all universal propositions, the term will be
distributed with regard to at least part of the contradictory of the
other term. If the universal be affirmative, the subject will be
distributed with regard to the whole of the contradictory of the
predicate. In all affirmative propositions, the contradictory of the
term will be distributed with regard to at least part of the other
term. If the affirmative be universal, the contradictory of the
predicate will be distributed with regard to the whole of the sub-
ject and will further be distributed with regard to at least part
of the contradictory of the subject. (Cf. the full contrapositive,
All not-P is not-S.) In all negative propositions, the contradictory
of the term will be distributed with regard to at least part of the
contradictory of the other term. An examination of the table of
results of obversion and conversion will substantiate these a priori
relations. In fact they are tacitly assumed in the principles of
obversion and conversion, and, having once accepted these princi-
ples, we need not, so long as we correctly apply them, bother about
particular distributions. But the whole structure rests upon the
assumption that the terms have existence within the same universe
of discourse and that neither exhausts that universe.
The really important question, then, is as to the justification
for this assumption. This is not the place for a complete discus-
sion of so profoundly reaching a question, but a few suggestions
present themselves.
In the first place, it must be admitted that the lack of con-
formity is real and not negligible. In the fluency of our state-
ments, we make many assertions taken as true relevant to a situa-
tion which rejects some formal transformations of those assertions.
And it must be admitted that obversion and conversion need some
more basic justification than a let-it-be-so. Yet this is not neces-
sarily a condemnation of immediate inference nor an indictment
of formal logic. We can not hope always to find a ready confor-
mity between usage and principle. If logic insists on becoming
complicated, it is therein not different from other sciences which
attempt to conform to the wanton wiles of the actual. Much of the
contemporary complaint against logic is really a complaint against
the waywardness of language the complaint that people refuse
(for which, on other grounds, we owe thanks) to confine the opu-
lence of expression to the pigeonholes of logicians. The formality
of logic is of meaning, not of word; and all interpretation moves
under the threat of material fallacy, whose generic nature is equiv-
ocation. Logic may well be complete and valid, despite the diffi-
culties which expression makes for diagnosis.
130 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
The assumption that subject and predicate belong to the same
universe of discourse we may readily allow as just. It flows from
the very nature of judgment. It is true, of course, that sometimes,
when we come to take contradictories for the purposes of obvereion,
we fall into error through an unwarranted limitation of one term
with respect to the other ; but even here the one universe is part of
the other, and the error in extension is chargeable to faulty manipu-
lation on our part, not to any defect in judgment. When, above, I
used the illustration All equilateral triangles have three sides; Some
non-equilateral triangles have not three sides, it was doubtless appar-
ent that a more careful contradictory for the subject would have
avoided the falsehood ; yet the illustration there was proper, for, if
both subject and predicate were reduced to the limited universe tri-
angles, the falsehood would remain: All equilateral triangles are
three-sided triangles; Some non-equilateral triangles are not three-
sided triangles.
We may also, it seems, admit as just and necessary the assump-
tion that the terms do not either exhaust the universe. This, how-
ever, is a necessity not of the essence of the judgment but of the
essence of obversion; and, though obversion negative statement
is too natural and proper a mode of expression to be discarded or
seriously impaired by the chance of failure in limiting cases, we
must recognize the essential shortcoming of the process. In abso-
lute statements the limiting case is negligible ; we do not often deal
with completely exhaustive genus. The pinch comes because our
actual statements so often have to do with artificial, delimited uni-
verses. And here, so long as our assertion is of definite, positive
species, there is small danger; for, if one of the terms does exhaust
the universe, we are apt to have our eyes open to it, or at any rate
the derived statement will hide itself in the decent obscurity of an
infinite term. But where our assertion begins with an indefinite
negative, trouble arises; for that term reappears as a definite and
positive term, and either we know it does not exist or, more usually,
we know it does exist and infer from it a like existence for the other
term which may not exist. So, from All not-S is P, we get the
inverse forms Some S is not P and Some S is not-P; and, knowing
the actual existence of the definite S, we ascribe equal existence to
not-P, which, if P in the first place exhausted the universe, has no
existence at all. This is the source of the peculiar liability of exclu-
sive propositions to false interpretation. Even the contrapositives,
which enjoy a somewhat privileged position as it were because of their
kinship to the denial of the consequent, are vulnerable here.
If obversion lays itself open to actual error because of the assump-
tion that the terms do not exhaust the universe, conversion runs foul
INFERENCE AND DISTRIBUTION 131
of the more primary assumption of the existence of the terms. But
it may "be noted that this assumption involves less than at first
appears, and for affirmative propositions at any rate may be pretty
well justified. For it does not, of course, necessitate any special
sort of existence, certainly not physical existence, for the terms;
we can deal validly with propositions concerning chimeras, myths,
abstractions ; nor, further, does it necessitate even that the terms or
either of them be in the original proposition thought in extension
at all. All we need assume is that our terms have some meaning,
and that whatever sort of existence is implied of one can be truly
thought as inhering in the other within the same universe. And for
affirmative categorical propositions this seems an easily justifiable
assumption. If we accept the commonly accepted view that affirma-
tive categoricals imply the denotative existence of their subjects,
then, even though the predicate be thought primarily in pure inten-
sion, it must nevertheless be admitted as capable of extension at
least so far as the proposition asserts coincidence of that intension
with the extension of the subject. And if it be maintained that in
any certain proposition both subject and predicate are in pure inten-
sion, then no difficulty will arise, since after conversion no different
logical being can be asserted of either term than in the original
proposition belonged to both. Two troubles, however, are found. In
the psychology of understanding propositions, we commonly (and
correctly) grasp the subject and then infer of the predicate at least
potentially the same sort of existence we know the subject to have.
It thus sometimes happens that, beginning with a proposition the
subject of which has a limited sort of existence and the predicate
of which is an attribute belonging not merely to the subject but to
other subjects having much more complete existence, we arrive at
a converse according to which we are tempted to extend to the new
predicate the full-statured existence belonging to some other part
of the extension of the new subject. But inasmuch as the converse
of an affirmative is always particular, this error is always simply
one of presumption on our part, not of illicit import in the conver-
sion. The other danger arises from the frequency with which we
express what are properly hypothetical judgments in categorical
form. Here the partiality of the converse will not save us, for the
reduction required the shift in relation as we pass from that of sub-
ject to predicate to that of predicate to subject is not a matter of
quantity, from universal to particular, but is a matter of modality,
from apodeictic to problematic. So it is with rules, mandatory and
diagnostic. From the legend No admittance except on business I
know that if someone is admitted he must be on business. Now
perhaps I put this All admitted persons are persons on business;
132 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
but if I want to make persons on business the subject and tell what
I know of them, I ought to say, not Some business persons are
admitted, which will almost certainly be taken to mean more than
I know, but // someone is a business person, he may or may not be
admitted. *For what I really know about the predicate is not that
at least some of the class are also of the subject-class, but that at
least I can not deny the subject of any member of the predicate
class as such. When hypotheticals are put as categoricals, conver-
sion, even by limitation, is an affirmation of the consequent and
inversion adds a denial of the antecedent.
As to negative propositions, the case is by no means so favorable.
Even with respect to the reference of the terms to one universe there
may be some hesitation. I should maintain, however, that negatives
as well as affirmatives presuppose some community of relevance and
in more than a barely formal sense. We may, to be sure, assent to
the medieval denial of the triangularity of virtue, but any meaning
which the proposition may achieve will depend upon the possibility
of actual predication in some sense. To deny an attribute is to imply
the significance of its possession. Our discussion of that part of
the assumption which asserts that neither term exhausts the universe
will also hold for negatives as well as affirmatives; though it may
be noted that it is chiefly with negatives that actual usage belies the
assumption, since our mast frequent dealings with exhaustive species
is when we deny of some subject an attribute which actually within
the limited universe in mind does not exist whose contradictory,
that is, is actually exhaustive. Hence, again, the peculiar vulner-
ability of the exclusive proposition. Now this exhibits the real diffi-
culty as to negative propositions: can we assume that subject and
predicate have even by implication the same existential status? It
appears that one of the commonest forms of negative judgment is
the denial with respect to a subject thought in extension of a
predicate taken purely in intension and actually having no existence
within the universe of discourse. This lack of extensive implica-
tion is not, however, so facile as it seems at first sight ; for the normal
negative categorical directly and truthfully implies the coincidence
with the subject of some measure of the contradictory of the predi-
cate; even negatives, as we have seen, rest for their meaning upon
some community of relevance between the terms; and the actual
errors in negatives are once again a matter of restricted universes
or of falsely put propositions. Still, negative propositions are
especially prolific in interpretative error error which practically
arises chiefly in this way : a negative proposition, having for subject
a negative, or "infinite," term and for predicate a term taken inten-
INFERENCE AND DISTRIBUTION 133
sively only, eventually becomes a particular affirmative proposition,
having for subject the contradictory of the original subject (that
is, a definite extensive term) and for predicate the original intensive
predicate. The truth of this depends upon the actual extensive exist-
ence of the original predicate, an existence which may be totally
lacking. This once again points to the exclusive proposition. Beyond
this, practical error is not apt to obtrude; since either the propo-
sition remains negative, or the predicate falls into its contradictory.
One point already mentioned might be urged further in defense
of the general assumption of obversion and conversion as regards
negative propositions. It may be maintained that negatives which
do not comply with that assumption are all properly not categorical
but hypothetical. This, of course, is so to define the categorical
proposition as to justify the traditional assumptions of "immediate
inference"; but it may be supported on other and prior grounds,
and, though it would mean a large and highly undesirable departure
from the usages of language, it might be none the less necessary for
theoretical rigor.
It should be noticed that, even if we make up our minds to this
step, we are not saying, as has not seldom been said, that logic con-
siders propositions as taken in pure extension. This doctrine would,
of course, avoid many real difficulties ; but it is not only extremely
undesirable because of its divergence from usage but unnecessary
for theory. We say merely that a proposition which has purely
intensive import is properly hypothetical, and, if treated as cate-
gorical, may develop false implications. For how may a predicate,
even of a negative proposition, be purely intensive with no exten-
sive implication ? Only if the subject is really a condition not stated
as fulfilled; only, that is, if the obverse and converse relations be
problematic, not partial or contradictory.
To revert to the point of departure: it seems that if we accept
the assumptions which Dr. Keynes names and which are implicit in
the procedures of ' ' immediate inference, ' ' those procedures are valid
and without prejudice to the doctrine of the distribution of terms,
subject or predicate. And if those assumptions be refused, the harm
done is to "immediate inference," not to the doctrine of distribu-
tion. Nor does that doctrine itself involve the treatment of proposi-
tions in pure extension, much less any quantification of the predicate.
It does, to be sure, imply that all terms in categoricals have at least
the possibility of application, extensive or denotative; but all we
need know in order to say a predicate is distributed is that, if it be
taken as having application, the assertion made covers the whole
extent thereof. 4 The distribution of terms, that is, is not a matter
* C/. Joseph : An Introduction to Logic, pp. 218 ff.
134 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
of the direct content of our judgment, but of what must be true of
the situation to which our judgment is relevant; hence its basic
methodological importance in real inference. Whether or not we dis-
tinguish between extension and denotation, and whatever the usage
we adopt, are immaterial to this question of distribution. Whether
we be speaking of the analysis of a genus into its species, or of the
individual instances of a species, our term is distributed if our asser-
tion is true of all the species or all the instances there are. If the
term be singular, then in any assertion made of it it will be dis-
tributed, even though it have no extension in the sense of component
species, since the assertion is taken as true of the only instance of the
term there is.
This brings me back to Professor Toohey 's paper, and especially
to one contention which seems to me to illustrate a very common and
harmful confusion:
There is an inconsistency in the logician treating the subject and predicate
of a proposition as classes an inconsistency which is masked by the ambiguity
of the words All and Some. Each of these words may have a collective as weQ
as a distributive force. . . . The rules of logic are based on the supposition that
the subject term is used distributively, or at least that it is not used collectively.
The words " distributed " and " undistributed " can not be applied to a term
unless it is used distributively. In the proposition All the angles of a triangle
are less than two right angles, the subject term, " angle of a triangle " is dis-
tributed; for it is used distributively. . . . But in the proposition All the angles
of a triangle are equal to two right angles, no logician would speak of the subject
term, " angle of a triangle," as either distributed or undistributed. Now when
the subject and predicate of a proposition are considered as classes, the proposi-
tion can not convey any meaning unless both terms are interpreted in a collective
sense, and if they are interpreted in this sense, the words " distributed " and
' ' undistributed ' ' can not be applied to them, any more than they can be applied
to the subject of the proposition All the angles of a triangle are equal to two
right angles. The words " collected " and " uncolleeted " would not be alto-
gether inappropriate. If, then, the rules of logic presuppose that the subject
i? not used collectively, how can they be reconciled with a treatment of the propo-
sition which imposes upon both subject and predicate a collective sense f
Now I am not anxious to defend the treatment of terms purely
as classes, but I am interested to find a consistent usage for the words
"collective" and "distributive," which seem to me to be involved
in an evident confusion especially in the text-books which fre-
quently interferes in the discussion of "distributed" and "undis-
tributed," and which appears in the passage just quoted. I give the
accepted doctrine from the text-book nearest at hand :
A general term is a name which is capable of being applied to a whole group
of objects. ... A collective term, on the other hand, is a name applied to a
number of individual things when taken together and treated as a whole, as a*
' ' audience, " an " army. " It is important to distinguish carefully betweem
general and collective terms. A general term is a name which applies equally to
INFERENCE AND DISTRIBUTION 135
each individual of the group; or, in other words, it is used of the individuals
distributively. A collective name belongs to the whole, but not to the separate
parts of the whole. Thus we say that ' ' soldier " is a general name, and is used
distributively of each man in a regiment. ' ' Regiment, ' ' however, is a collective
name for it applies only to the whole group, and not to the individual soldiers.
Ambiguity sometimes arises from the fact that the English word " all " is used
in both of these senses. . . .5
Fortunately text-books are seldom critically read; but even the
uninferring sophomore, quite correctly in exegesis but most falsely
in fact, is hereby persuaded that that there is a necessary alliance
between "general term" and "distributive use," that no collective
term can be used distributively, and that "general" and "collective"
are contrasted and exclusive categories. Yet a moment's common-
sense will tell us (as, indeed, often the books themselves inconsist-
ently tell us) that the same term is frequently both general and
collective, that if "distributive use" is to have any value at all it
must be applied to collectives which alone can be used in any other
way. And is "all" . . . "used in both of these senses"? Does
"all" ever "apply equally to each individual member of the group"?
The whole orthodox doctrine is sheer confusion on the one hand;
between the individual members of a group of which the term is a
name and the members of a group of which the term names the mem-
bers, and on the other hand between distribution of meaning and
distribution of predication. Let us simply say : Every term is either
singular or general. Every term is either collective or not collective.
These distinctions are independent and knowledge as to whether a
term is singular or general tells us nothing as to whether it is col-
lective or not. Further, in regard to the meaning of terms by them-
selves : Every term, singular or general, collective or not, distributes
its meaning ("applies equally to each individual member of the
group") to each member of any class of which it may be a member
e.g., every table is a table ; every Napoleon, Napoleon ; every army,
army. And no term, collective or not, distributes its meaning to
each member of the class which it is or of which it is the name
e.g., no soldier is a regiment ("regiment" never applies to "sol-
dier") ; no angle of a triangle is all the angles of a triangle. In
regard to predication (terms in proposition) : Any collective term
may be used either distributively or collectively; i.e., the predicate
may be asserted of each member of the class or of the class as a
whole. This is simply not pertinent to non-collectives, since only col-
lectives represent a class.
Now the ambiguity of "all" is a matter of predication, not of
leaning. We therefore agree that in logical propositions all quantity
Creighton: An Introductory Logic, 4th ed., pp. 50 ff. The treatment here
is decidedly better than in most texts.
136 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
signs shall be used distributively. This is a mere convention for
case in handling plural quantity signs, which would otherwise, aa
collectives, be ambiguous. It is not a prescript to language, nor does
it prevent our accurately representing statements which come to us
with "all" or "some" otherwise used. And we can not say, as Pro-
fessor Toohey and others say, that "the rules of logic are based on
the supposition that the subject term is used distributively, or at
least that it is not used collectively, ' ' so long as we separate, as Pro-
fessor Toohey does, the quantity sign from the subject term. Col-
lectives, singular and general, used collectively and used distribu-
tively, are constantly found in proper logical propositions. Nor can
we say that "the words 'distributed' and 'undistributed' can not
be applied to a term unless it is used distributively." Every "all"
is not to be thought of as the prepositional quantity sign and excluded
from the subject. In Professor Toohey 's example, All the angles
of a triangle are equal to two right angles, "all" is not the quantity
sign but an integral part of the subject term. "No logician would
speak of the subject term, 'angle of a triangle,' as distributed or
undistributed," because "angle of a triangle" is not the subject
term; but "all the angles of a triangle" is the subject term, is col-
lective, and is distributed. We have the same thing in Any regi-
ment is made up of soldiers; where "regiment" is collective, general,
used collectively, and distributed. In Some regiments are clean-
shaven we have a general collective, used distributively, undis-
tributed; in The Fifth Maryland Regiment is famous, we have a
singular collective, used collectively, and distributed.
The most fundamental of Professor Toohey 's objections to the
distribution of the predicate I can merely notice, inasmuch as it is
aside from the question with which I have here been concerned, and
as it involves final questions of the nature of logic. The objection
is "that the use of the doctrine of the distribution of the predicate
involves a vicious circle. . . . The logician . . . first calls upon the
student's knowledge of the implication of propositions to prove the
doctrine, and then he bids the student call upon his knowledge of
the doctrine in order to find out the implication." Now formal logic,
truly, is not an empirical science; yet no matter how a priori we
make our construction of logical theory, it must appeal to experi-
ence to establish its appositeness to this world. And, moreover, it
may be doubted whether we could achieve a logic at all did we not
find for our analysis logical relations embodied in actual masses of
judgment which we recognize as valid ; and, at least in the process of
learning and teaching, the appeal to justifying results is not only per-
missible but necessary. If this be argument in a circle, we shall have
BOOK REVIEWS 137
to make the best of it; since it is a circle from which no human
thought can ever escape.
ALBERT L. HAMMOND.
JOHNS HOPKINS UNIVERSITY.
BOOK REVIEWS
La Philosophic moderne depuis Bacon jusqu'd Leibniz: Etudes
historiques. GASTON SOBTAIS. Paris: Lethielleux. 1920. Pp.
x + 592.
At once ambitious and valuable is the series of works which
Father Sortais is undertaking in these studies of the history of
modern philosophy. If succeeding volumes are comparable to this
first one in the series in fullness and explicitness of treatment, we
shall have in the series a veritable encyclopaedia of seventeenth
century philosophic thought the century, of course, which created
the atmosphere and formulated the problems of that epoch which
is called "modern philosophy."
The first hundred pages of the near six hundred forming the
volume are devoted to certain sixteenth century precursors of
Francis Bacon who were concerned with questions of method and
authority Pierre Eamus, Frangois Sanchez, Giacomo Acontio,
Everard Digby, William Temple, Nicholas Hemmingsen men who
were feeling, in various lines, after philosophic and scientific methods
which could lead them away from the sterile scholasticism of the
period to a more natural and direct investigation of nature, and
whose speculative work constitutes an interesting parallel to the
series of scientific achievements which began with the theories of
Copernicus. With this preparation Father Sortais goes forward to a
study of the topic of his Livre I, which is I'Empirisme en Angleterre
et en France, devoting the remainder of the present volume to a
study of the life, work, and influence of Francis Bacon. As outlined
in his general plan, this is to be followed by other books devoted to
Reactions que provoqua cette poussee empirique; Deisme; the Phi-
losophic du Droit; the Revolution Cartesienne; Cartesianisme en
France; Cartesianisme a I'etranger; and finally, the Systemes plus
ou moins opposes au Cartesianisme: PhUosophie scolastique, Scep-
ticisme, Pantheisme de Spinoza, Sensualisme de Locke, Dynamisme
de Leibniz. This is at once an heroic and a fascinating programme,
in its very statement suggesting the dramatic turn which the au-
thor sees in the speculative effort of the century : first the thralldom
of empirical and mathematical method, later the uneasy struggle
of the mind to free itself from the too exclusive yoke of these
138 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
powerful instruments and to discover truths to which they might
lead but which they could not contain.
The method of the author is itself an interesting commentary
upon his subject matter. The contents are organized as only could
be by a man trained in scholastic method, with all formal explicit-
ness; but the work itself is largely in the nature of a running ex-
position of copious reader's notes, the exposition following the
materials with honest fidelity. Taken in connection with the full
and careful notes, sources and passages, this gives an encyclopaedic
value to the work which certainly assures its long usefulness. There
are, too, many paragraphs of appraisement and summary which
make the structure of the thought and the opinions of the author
at once evident, frank even in their perfectly legitimate bias.
Virtually the volume before us is a monograph on Francis
Bacon, giving first an account of his life and the motives actuating
the composition of his works; second, an exposition of the Bacon-
ian classification of knowledge, which is rightly stressed as the very
heart of Bacon's contribution; and lastly, a critical examination
of the philosophy and influence of the great empiricist. Full bibliog-
raphy, index, and analytic and synthetic tables of contents make
the book a most workable reference.
Of the general aim of the work of Father Sortais not too much
can be said in praise. Few students of the history of thought at
this hour will doubt that the European development has reached
one of the nodes of its changing course and that in a distinct and
dramatic sense a period has come to its close. It is time that we
should set about writing the story of this period for it has never
yet been done, and in particular not for the nations and years in
which it received its essential color, that is, England and France
in the sixteenth-seventeenth centuries. The author is beginning
his work in the just locus, in time and space, and is treating his
affair with an expansiveness proportionate to its importance. On
the other hand, not he himself pretends that what he is giving is
more than a study in materials. He justly observes that the per-
spective must grow out of the slow analysis of the works of men in
relation to their times, and his volumes will, in a sense, be propae-
deutic to the vivid characterization of the thought of the Northern
Renaissance (for Bacon to Bergson comprise this) which some future
day will give.
Meantime for the picture of Bacon himself we may be thoroughly
appreciative. The influence of his classification of knowledge has
been very much greater than books have recognized, affecting the
whole encyclopaedic and educational, and hence investigative pro-
gramme of modern times: our reference books, catalogues and cur-
139
ricula are all essentially Baconian, and it may well be doubted if
the influence of the philosopher in this field of organization is not
truly speaking of far greater significance than his popularization
of the inductive method. We say "popularization" with intent,
for it is far less to Francis than to Roger Bacon that its emphatic
discovery is due. Indeed, it is the most striking weakness of Father
Sortais 's book that he suggests no relationship of the thought of
the two great Englishmen. The recent readings of the cipher
manuscript of Roger Bacon by Professor Newbold are throwing an
amazing light upon the discoveries of the latter. Further studies
of the history of the manuscripts of Friar Bacon bid fair to estab-
lish beyond cavil the continuity of the Roger Bacon tradition down
to Elizabethan times and in the very circles in which Francis Bacon
moved. It may, indeed, turn out that the Jacobean chancellor of
the seventeenth is but the perpetuated tongue like the traditional
head of speaking bronze of the half -heretical Oxford prisoner of
the thirteenth century. Of all this Father Sortais appears to know
not even what should have been guessed apart from the manuscript
discoveries, and the lack is likely to sail for a rewriting of his chap-
ters at some not distant date. And a knowledge of the strange
twinship of the two Bacons may go far yet to explain that curious
duality of Francis Bacon's character which Father Sortais (apolo-
gist for the chancellor as he often is), along with others, finds
therein. For we can not quarrel with his final picture: "The
physiognomy of Bacon, author of the Novum Organum and chancel-
lor of England, unconquerably evokes the antique image of Janus
bifrons. Hence, even with all indulgence, History, that it may
remain impartial, can only with reservation bestow upon him the
eulogy of greatness, for moral grandeur, which naught else may
supply, was wanting in him."
H. B. ALEXANDER.
UNIVERSITY OF NEBRASKA.
JOURNALS AND NEW BOOKS
SCIENTIA. July, 1921. National Contributions to Geology
(pp. 1-12) : J. W. GREGORY (Glasgow). -Rapid survey of the history
of geology, bringing out its cosmopolitan character. La constitution
de I'individualite. II. L'individualite psychique (pp. 13-24) :
AUGUSTO Pi SUNER (Barcelona) .-A recommendation of behaviorist
psychology. Les idees nouvelles sur la suggestion (pp. 25-32) : C.
BAUDOUIN (Geneva) .-Suggestion, fallen into disrepute, has again
been rehabilitated by M. fimile Cone and his disciples, forming the
140 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
new school of Nancy in psychiatry. According to them all suggestion
is auto-suggestion and not subjection to another. It works subcon-
sciously but not automatically. A suggestion can not be suppressed
except through replacing it positively by another. Conscious fight-
ing against it often accelerates it. So suggestion must be distin-
guished from will, which proceeds by effort. In a way, this theory
is a scientific application of what is vaguely known under the name
of the influence of "morale." Problemes financiers d'apres guerre.
II. Pretevements sur le capital (pp. 33-54) : CORBADO GINI
(Padua). -A discussion of confiscatory taxation, especially of the
disadvantages of a tax on capital. Reviews of Scientific Books and
Periodicals.
Diderot. Entretien entre d'Alembert et Diderot, Reve d'Alembert,
Suite de 1'Entretien. Collection des Chef s-d 'CEuvre Meconnus,
with an introduction and notes by Gilbert Maire. Paris: Edi-
tions Bossard. 1921. Pp. 193. 12fr.
Goblot, Edmond. Le Systeme des Sciences: Le Vrai, 1'Intelligible,
et le R4el. Paris: Armand Colin. 1922. Pp. 259. 7 fr.
Guttler, C. Einfiihrung in die Geschichte der Neueren Philosophic
des Auslandes. Miinchen: Ernst Reinhardt. 1922. Pp. 221.
15 in.
Pound, Roscoe. The Spirit of the Common Law. Boston : Marshal
Jones Co. 1921. Pp. xiv + 224. $2.50.
NOTES AND NEWS
We have just learned of the death of Mr. L. E. Hicks of Berke-
ley, Calif., in November 1921. Mr. Hicks contributed a number of
articles on logic to the JOURNAL during the last few years.
Professor Ralph Barton Perry has recently begun his tour of
lectures at the provincial universities of France for the Hyde
Foundation.
VOL. XIX, No. 6. MARCH 1G, 1922
THE JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
DEMOCRACY AND MORALS
IN an article by Cohen that appeared in the New Republic, March
17, 1920, and in the article by Sheldon in this JOURNAL, June
6, 1921, certain misrepresentations of Dewey's conception of de-
mocracy are so persistently ascribed to Dewey as to raise the question
whether Cohen, Sheldon and others are really criticizing the thing
to which alone Dewey applies that term, namely, moral democracy.
Since the Revolution it has been popularly assumed i.e., by those
who do not reflect critically that democracy means liberty, in the
sense of the absence of law and social control; fraternity, in the
sense of the absence of ranks and titles; and equality in the sense
of equal control exercised by all alike over the material and spirit-
ual resources of society. The readers of this JOURNAL surely do not
require proof that these "ideals," taken separately, are unnatural
and, taken together, are mutually incompatible. Liberty, so con-
ceived, is incompatible with equality as denned ; and since men differ
by nature in taste and capacity, fraternity as conceived by the revo-
lutionists can never be anything but an affectation. The rank of a
man is indeed but the guinea's stamp, and the man's the gold; but
the immortal Burns knew better than most that men differ in metal
and that merely stamping them does not always make guineas.
It is difficult for any student of life to enter sympathetically
and intelligently into the viewpoint and method of another, but
progress in the discussion of philosophical problems depends upon
our making the effort. The signers of this paper accordingly venture
to say that the key to Dewey's use of the term democracy is liberty,
rather than equality, but not the liberty of the revolutionists, not
liberty in the merely negative sense of the absence of restraint and
control. Liberty means the absence of arbitrary restraint, of un-
just control : liberty is opportunity to do right : but the moral mean-
ing of the word is, simply, opportunity for each and all to beat their
music out, to live the best life they are capable of, to make the best
contribution to the material and spiritual resources of society they
can. When one considers what an unformed mass of possibilities
each child is as it comes into the world, the applications of this
realistic conception of liberty are many and clear. All the activities
of science, for example, and all the social institutions that stimulate
141
142 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
and encourage them, are im-hulrd in this conception of moral de-
mocracy. In the words of President Lowell, "Is it or is it not
desirable that men in the community should yield as much intellect-
ual output as possible? If it is, how is it undemocratic in men any
more than in cowsT Do not let us be deceived. Let us remember
that after all the greatest asset of a community is not its mines, or
its soil, but its men ; and that it is for the interest of the whole com-
munity that every man should be developed to the utmost point to
which he can be developed." By moral democracy, Dewey means a
community in which each member finds heroic stimulation and en-
couragement to be and do his best. "The end, the right and only
right end, of man, lies in the fullest and freest realization of powers
in their appropriate objects. The good consists of friendship, family
and political relations, economic utilization of mechanical resources,
science, art, in all their complex and variegated forms and elements.
There is no separate and rival moral good ; no separate, empty and
rival 'good will' " (Dewey in Dewey and Tuft's Ethics). "Har-
mony, reinforcement and expansion are the signs of a true or moral
satisfaction. What is the good which while good in direct enjoyment
also brings with it richer and fuller lifet" Richer and fuller life
includes pure science, art, worship and contemplation, the develop-
ment and enjoyment of wealth, the making and administration of
law, and other enterprises. This is a circular definition, of course ;
for this philosophy is founded in the notion of inherent value, namely
in the notion of the inherent value of the experience of value. Con-
templation is accordingly either good, bad or indifferent; to say that
this philosophy has no place for contemplation is a misreading of it.
All political activities are tested by this question: Do they tend to
stimulate and develop the capacities of individuals in ways that ren-
der them available for the social good?
The good, according to this philosopher, consists of self-conserv-
ing and self-promoting activity, i.e., of activity that in its results
tends to reinforce and expand itself; and the similarity of this con-
ception to a possible interpretation of the Kantian maxim is obvious.
However, this abstract formula in its sweeping generality is prac-
tically useless: it gives little or no help to anyone confronted with
an actual moral issue. This consideration leads to the conclusion
that the real value of an act is unique, that each concrete moral
situation has its own good; and this means that moral values are
immediate and concrete, not abstract and conceptual. It does not
mean that the good is idiosyncratic or fanciful. The good of each
moral situation is as universal as an oak tree, as real as the first
president of the United States.
In a moral democracy, conflicts of claim occur naturally and in-
DEMOCRACY AND MORALS 143
evitably, and where they occur this ideal means that the parties
concerned refer their claims to a common good and cooperate in
achieving that. That Dewey recognizes the function of government
in settling such conflicts is evident in page after page of his ethical
discussions. Thus, he remarks that no other such instrument as the
courts with their juries was ever devised for mediating social order
and progress. Again, every right, civil or political, carries with it
a corresponding duty and the only fundamental anarchy is the lay-
ing claim to rights without acknowledging corresponding duties.
The enforcement of duties through law and its administration is
abundantly provided for in this theory of society. That Dewey
believes the acquisition and ownership of private property to be a
moral good, no student of his ethics can question. Like most modern
writers on politics he regards public judgment as a most important
sanction of law, but he recognizes the usefulness and necessity of
force intelligently applied.
In the light of these teachings of Dewey, so familiar that apologies
are in order for reciting them, what is to be said of Cohen's state-
ment that Dewey has deliberately chosen between the gospel of
mastery over nature and mastery over self and rejected the latter?
Cohen states that according to Dewey all ideas are and ought to be
"instruments for reforming the world," that Dewey uses the word
practical to mean tending to reform the cosmic scenery of human
life. According to Dewey, however, the human self is a part of
nature; a human community is as much a natural phenomenon as
a community of beavers. Dewey holds that the particular part of
nature that today most needs scientific treatment leading to "mas-
tery" over it is the part that never yet has received such treatment,
namely, the human community and especially the human self. He
reiterates exactly the opposite of the doctrine that Cohen ascribes
to him. He enforces the necessity of applying the organa of scienti-
fic intelligence to human nature in order that the manifold problems
of politics, economics, preventive medicine, international society,
etc., etc., can be solved through effective self-direction. It is to the
end of human self-mastery that Dewey teaches "reconstruction in
philosophy." The Baconian slogan, Knowledge is Power, as inter-
preted by Dewey, means that before man can hope to master the
social conditions (the "scenery" of Cohen) of human life, he must
take the pains to study and know them adequately. As the present
writers understand Reconstruction in Philosophy, that is the partic-
ular reconstruction the author of this book is talking about.
Cohen and Sheldon insist that Dewey teaches a gospel of equal
development for all. Sheldon writes, in his discussion of Dewey 's
late book: "Equal development is undesirable; it would indeed be
144 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
fatal to progress. It would render society as monotonous as the
desert; it would do away with the beautiful economy of the division
of labor, with individuality, with unique achievement. The social
democratic heaven of equal development would reduce personality
to nothingness" as if all this had any bearing on Dewey's philos-
ophy! "We do not wish to make men equal through and through;
we do not wish the ordinary man to be capable of doing the work of
the expert ; equality should pertain only to certain elementary neces-
sities of life" (italics added). To the present writers this social
philosophy contrasts violently with that of Dewey and Lowell ; but
it is impossible for us to understand how anyone can ascribe the
dogma of equal development for all to Dewey. In his books on edu-
cation he warns against the standardization of school children. The
individual for Dewey has a duty to develop to the utmost his partic-
ular bent; but since it is good to grow competitively, handicaps
should be removed. Unless distinction is competitively gained, both
the individual and the community suffer.
Dewey writes that "regard for the happiness of others means
regard for those conditions and objects which permit others freely
to exercise their own powers from their own initiative, reflection and
choice." Perhaps this doctrine is what Cohen and Sheldon have in
mind as the doctrine of equal development for all. In Dewey's
thought the socially available capacities of each should find stimula-
tion and heroic encouragement in the ' ' conditions and objects ' ' that
make up his social and physical environment, and he has in mind the
brilliantly endowed just as much as the slow and dull. Those who
have heard Dewey in the lecture room are amazed to learn that he
wishes "the best endowed to put off their progress until the least
endowed have come up to their level." On the contrary, he has both
advocated and practised special individual training for the best
endowed as well as special training for the mentally retarded.
The misreading of Dewey on the part of Cohen and Sheldon is
due to a failure to understand what he means by moral democracy.
What he teaches is not equality of possessions either material or
spiritual, but equality of opportunity for each to make the best con-
tribution to the material and spiritual life of mankind that he is
capable of. Uniqueness of personal achievement is precisely the
thing that Dewey does believe in, teach, and practise. That
these two writers should ascribe to him exactly the opposite doctrine,
that they should say he teaches a levelling process in possessions both
material and spiritual, must strike every thorough reader of Dewey
as strange indeed. Democracy in Dewey's conception is perfectly
compatible with the meteoric achievement of a Shakspeare or a New-
ton : it is not incompatible with the mysticism of St. Francis or
DEMOCRACY AND MORALS 145
Luther : it is not incompatible with the achievements of those modern
captains of industry who have contributed enormously to the wealth
of society or with their enormous rewards for doing so. The de-
mocracy he teaches is fundamentally ethical. Democracy in the
sense of equal amounts of control over the spiritual and material
resources of society, democracy in the sense of mob-rule, democracy
as a levelling process, democracy in any sense that is a menace to
spiritual values or to unique personal achievement, is foreign to his
thought. Dewey is trying to forge an instrument that can be used
effectively in the solution of personal and social problems, the ob-
jective being a community in which each man shall find encourage-
ment to be contentedly and effectively himself.
Sheldon and Cohen both find fault with Dewey for not stating
just what conditions and circumstances will environ us in that
society, for not stating just what customs, laws and institutions are
supremely just, beneficent and efficient. If anyone only knew!
Surely the writers of these articles do not exact omniscience of the
ethicist! Or demand that he teach some particular economic doc-
trine ! Desires, inventions and changing circumstances condition in
detail the organization of the community from day to day: the con-
flicts, competitions and triumphs of men help to determine it: and
intelligence can not anticipate these in detail. "Democracy," says
a writer in the Atlantic, " is a gamble on the reasonableness of human
nature," but its method of achieving results is, within limits set by
the concept of democracy itself, competitive. If human beings are
essentially moral beings, as we assume they are, we must believe that
all customs and institutions ought to be educative in their effects on
human lives, that wealth and property ought to be subordinated to
personality in our scale of values, and that every man who can ought
to use his intelligence reverently and scientifically to forge a moral
future out of the given present. To this end, philosophy can reason-
ably be expected to furnish an adequate methodology. Democracy
exists only where communities daily conquer it anew, and it is part
of its working credo that the world evolves through that effort.
This we believe to be part of Dewey 's meaning, and we find it
antagonistic to nothing in civilization that we habitually regard as
precious. It is antagonistic to the belief that, before the determina-
tion of individual powers and individual distinction by competitive
behavior, "some men are born horses while others are born with
saddles to ride them. ' ' It affirms that no one should be prostituted
to the status of a mere tool of another 's will ; for the exhortation of
Kant is the acme of good sense, "Treat humanity, whether in thyself
or another, always as an end, never as a means." In Reconstruc-
tion in Philosophy, an elementary presentation, Dewey emphasizes
146 JOURNAL OF PHlLOSOPll Y
perhaps he overemphasizes, if measured by the standard of a com-
plete and symmetrical system of philosophy the instrumental theory
of knowledge ; but this means at most that those who study his teach-
ings will do well to read his logical discussions in conjunction with
his moral, educational and political philosophy. Whether he would
subscribe to the statement, we do not know, but some of his writings
suggest to us the doctrine that the inherent values to which concepts
are instrumental are ultimately inter al. moral values.
It is not so much Dewey 's philosophy as the facts of nature that
negate the idea of identical development for all and the idea of equal
participation in control over social resources. These facts of nature
are canvassed by Dewey in various writings, and his theory squares
with them. Pure science, art, worship and play are from his stand-
point normal activities of human beings, human functions that cer-
tain customs of modern life tend to pervert or suppress. We hire
priests to do our praying for us, professional singers to do our prais-
ing, ball teams and actors to do our playing, and scientists to do
our thinking; meanwhile, we devote ourselves to a mad scramble for
ability to buy things, or for a maximum of economic control, and
wonder at the poverty and barrenness of all our lives. Is it "danger-
ous" to call attention to the fact that the spiritual enterprise of
reconstructing and mastering the self is not an enterprise entirely
different from that of understanding and controlling "the cosmic
scenery" ? Sheldon sees fit to warn his readers because Dewey has
been studied and quoted by malcontents. The implications of the
warning are obvious to all who cherish the wisdom of Amos and
Socrates, and a solution of the question of the method of determining
the dangerous or safe quality of moral ideas can not be reached in
a summary fashion. The way of Dewey is to appeal to the process
of history and the long-run confirmation of ideas by consequences.
In his social philosophy Sheldon appears to favor medieval realism
and the logic of formal authority and the Index.
G. A. TAWNEY,
E. L. TALBERT.
THE UNIVERSITY or CINCINNATI.
DR. A. N. WHITEHEAD'S SCIENTIFIC REALISM
fcfc A N -ism," it has been well said, "i%by its inmost being always
-j- in opposition," and the conditions which have governed the
development of current realism have undoubtedly given it, for good
or evil, a markedly protestant character; but the question whether
the defects of this general attitude outweigh its merits must here be
dismissed with the remark that not the least hostile influence oppos-
WHITEHEAD'S SCIENTIFIC REALISM 147
ing the new tendency has been the subjectivism aspect whether
frankly such or masked as "idealist" of contemporary science. It
serves no purpose, again, to discuss the reasons for this state of
things; the fact must just be accepted. But this suffices to give to
any exception from the general rule an unusual degree of impor-
tance; when therefore a mathematician and physicist essays "the
basis of a natural philosophy which is the necessary presupposition
of a recognized speculative physics" 1 reorganized, that is, in ac-
cordance with recent developments when he approaches his subject
as an out and out realist, preluding his theory by an emphatic protest
against subjectivism, the course of his investigation at once assumes
the highest degree of interest.
Mark first of all the uncompromising emphasis of Dr. Whitehead's
protest. "There is now reigning in philosophy and in science an
apathetic acquiescence in the conclusion that no coherent account can
be given of nature as disclosed in sense-awareness without dragging
in its relations to mind. The result has been disastrous both to science
and to philosophy." 2 Even if philosophy is less apathetic than Dr.
Whitehead supposes, still this is sufficiently provocative; it raises
most of the questions at issue at the moment. What, e.g., is nature ?
Nature, for Dr. Whitehead, is what ' ' we observe in perception through
the senses; something which is not thought and which is self-con-
tained for thought." Nature is "independent of thought" in the
sense that it "can be thought of as a closed system whose mutual
relations do not require the expression of the fact that they are
thought about" (p. 3). In saying this Dr. Whitehead is fully aware
that his position is not, metaphysically, final. But he is not aiming
at "metaphysical doctrine"; all he desires is so to delimit the con-
tent of Nature that that content can be investigated and systematized
without confusing the inquiry by any references to mind, which,
whatever else it is, is not, primarily at least, nature. He posits no
metaphysical "disjunction of nature and mind" (p. 4), but accepts
their intimate relation and union; he merely wishes reflectively to
extend the unreflective attitude of everyday experience, which puts
"things" on one side and "mind" on the other, to scientific thought
in general. 3
Nor can it be objected that such a procedure, when it does not
ignore the issues, simply begs the question. Problems remain in
plenty ; how, e.g., "factors" become differentiated from "fact" on the
one hand and from "entities" on the other (p. 13) ; the relation,
1 The Concept of Nature, by A. N. Whitehead, p. vii
2 Ibid., p. 27.
P. 29: " adopting our immediate instinctive attitude towards perceptual
knowledge. ' '
148 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
again, between sense-awareness and thought (p. 14) ; the relative
logical priority of fact and factors; and many another. The point
here is that these questions must be assigned their proper position ;
their discussion must not be constantly introduced into the investi-
gation of Nature, as an "illegitimate importation into the philosophy
of natural Science" (p. 28) as in short one of those metaphysical
red herrings which disport themselves in the ocean of thought.
Certainly epistemology is in one aspect a natural science on precisely
the same footing, e.g., as physiology; but 1 think that Dr. White-
head's treatment fully justifies his conclusions, despite any phil-
osophic comments which may quite justifiably be made on them ; and
it is then the realism of his developed position which appears to me
as important as it is unusual.
It is not, in the first place, a noumenal realism; both "real" sub-
stratum and "phenomenal" attributes are dispensed with, as depend-
ing on "a distinction which is no distinction at all" (p. 16) ; and with
these, again, "primary" and "secondary" qualities 4 (p. 27) ; the
philosophy of science then becomes "the philosophy of the thing per-
ceived. Everything perceived is in nature. We may not pick and
choose. The red glow of sunset should be as much part of nature
as are molecules and electric waves. It is for natural philosophy
to analyze how these elements of nature are connected, refusing to
countenance any theory of psychic additions to the object known
in perception" (pp. 28, 29). There are not, in brief, two natures,
one "apprehended in awareness," and the other "the cause of aware-
ness"; "there is but one nature, the nature which is before us in
perceptual knowledge" (p. 40) ; and this "one nature," finally, ia
itself not merely apparent, as contrasted, i.e., with "conceptual
formulae of calculation" such as molecules and ether (p. 45).
Dr. Whitehead's adoption of such a definite standpoint, enforced
by the arguments set forth in the first two chapters of his book,
undoubtedly constitutes a weighty confirmation of the main conten-
tions of realism, doubly valuable and encouraging as coming from
an independent and (primarily) non-philosophic quarter. It marks,
it is to be hoped, a turning point in the course of discussion. Science,
hitherto a powerful, even if passive, ally of subjectivist ontology,
promises to transfer her support and allegiance to the opposite
camp. 6 For Dr. Whitehead is by no means alone in his views,
although he has given them more precise and systematic form than
4 It may be of interest to point out that before Locke, to whom Dr. White-
head seems to assign this distinction, it had been endorsed by two great scien-
tists Boyle and Galileo.
& Dr. Whitehead 'a psychology, as very briefly outlined on p. 188, seems to be,
however, unnecessarily subjectivist. I can not help thinking that his whole posi-
tion would be improved by the extension of realism to this aspect of the subject.
WHITEHEAD'S SCIENTIFIC REALISM 149
any of his collaborators. The investigators of radio-activity and its
developments are prepared to accord to electrons, atoms, and mole-
cules, with their mass properties and spatial configurations, a reality
that is continuous and truly consubstantial with that of the macro-
scopic objects of every-day experience. 6 Realism of this type, again,
appears to me to accord with Platonic and Hegelian idealism, so
long as it does not explicitly question those presuppositions in virtue
of which, as realism, it exists. But these Dr. Whitehead, from his
scientific standpoint, is entitled to ignore; they lie, as he contends,
outside his province, and to force them into prominence only con-
fuses the issue; and confining myself in the main to the same point
of view "endeavoring to exhibit the type of relations which hold
between the entities we perceive as in nature" (p. 45) I should
like to consider his results. It is peculiarly difficult, however, for
those who are principally interested in philosophy to appreciate
the precise character of Dr. "Whitehead 's aim. He is concerned with
the known content of Nature, with its adequate description and
analysis; so that considerations of genesis, whether psychological or
epistemological, as also of logical priority, either do not arise at all
or enter into the discussion only indirectly and remotely ; and unless
this is constantly borne in mind his work can not be properly appre-
ciated.
1. There appears to be a fundamental difficulty at the outset,
in the explication given on pp. 13-15. ' ' There are three components
in our knowledge of nature, fact, factors, and entities. Fact is the
undifferentiated terminus of sense-awareness; factors are termini,
differentiated as elements of fact." Next, "the immediate fact"
undifferentiated, that is "is the whole occurrence of nature as an
event present for sense-awareness, and essentially passing. The ulti-
mate fact (undifferentiated), for sense-awareness is an event. This
whole event is discriminated into partial events. ' ' Thus, beginning
from nature, we have two parallel divisions of one and the same
total content, (a) as "fact" into "factors" and (&) as "event" into
"partial events"; and since both factors and events derive from the
same original totality since all the factors make up the fact which
is again the whole event made up by events then it would seem
that events and factors must be somehow equivalent to each other;
factors, i.e., must be events, and events, factors. But this is not the
case; for there are "other factors in nature which are not events." 7
But if this is true, then it would seem to follow either (a) that the
whole of events is not really a whole, because it omits some factors ;
Cf. Nature, Nov. 6, 1919, p. 230.
7 Cf. p. 124 ' ' other factors of nature which do not share in the passage of
events. ' '
150 JOURNAL OF PHlLOSOPlt Y
or (6) the whole is not an event, because it contains factors which
are not events. Both alternatives materially affect Dr. Whitehead's
theory of time and space, because these are "abstractions from
events." 8
The obscurity on this point is increased when these factors
Avhii'h are not events become later on defined as "objects"; for
some objects at least are only intellectual abstractions. "Objects
for our knowledge may be merely logical abstractions . . . the
object ... is a mere abstract concept ... an abstract relation,
although it is there in nature" (p. 126). Obviously we have
travelled a long way from sense-awareness and its content; and I
recur to the subject later on in connection with "moments."
A somewhat similar ambiguity marks the more special treat-
ment of time in Chap. III. Again we find (p. 49), "in the first
place there is posited a general fact ; something is going on ; there
is an occurrence for definition." At first sight this seems to ac-
cord with the preceding statement already considered; we have a
totality which is an event, and which may be further distinguished
either into events or into factors; but the fact which was previ-
ously defined as the undifferentiated terminus of sense-awareness,
here comprises two "sets of entities, entities perceived in their own
individuality and other entities apprehended as relata." The
first are then "discerned," and constitute "the field directly per-
ceived"; the others are "discernible" and are in relation to the
discerned directly perceived field; and "this complete general
fact is the discernible and comprises the discerned." How then
can "fact," or "complete general fact," be undifferentiated T
There are two alternatives : (a) it falls apart into the two mutually
exclusive divisions of discernible and discerned; or (&) it is dis-
cernible and includes (comprises) the discerned, but if so, it can
only be discernible relatively to something discerned. Both alter-
natives therefore imply differentiation. "Fact," i.e., has lost its
primary undifferentiated character, as is further shown by its con-
stituents now being "relata in definite relations to some definite
entities in the discerned field." Thus the primitive absence of
differentiation has given place to definiteness of relation. 9
2. But let us accept this distinction between discernible and
Cf. p. 13 ' ' in the course of analysis space and time should appear. " It is
important to notice Dr. Whitohcad 's attitude on this point as compared with Pro-
fessor Alexander 's theory of space and time. For him ' ' Space-Time is the stuff
out of which all existente are made. Existents are complexes of Space-Time "
(Proc. Ariel. 8oc., Vol. XVII, p. 417, and Space, Time and Deity). For Dr.
Whitehead, ou the other hand, ' ' space and time spring from a common root, and
the ultimate fact of experience is a space-time fact " (p. 132).
" Discernible " again has two senses: a wider on p. 50 (" complete gen-
eral fact "), and a narrower on p. 53 (" general present fact ").
WHITEHEAD'S SCIENTIFIC REALISM 151
discerned. The next important point is Dr. Whitehead's exposi-
tion of the connection between Nature and sense-awareness. He
has carefully worked out the relations between sense-awareness,
mind and thought ; and if it were possible to do so I should refrain
from any further discussion; the subject pertains, as Dr. White-
head contends, to mind rather than to Nature.
But his position here has so important a bearing on his philoso-
phy of Nature that some comment is unavoidable. He seems to me
to have followed that perilous tendency which (as a reaction
against subjective idealism) attends all realism that is to attach
undue importance to sense-awareness, as such. He tends to hypo-
statize sense-awareness, to isolate it overmuch from mind operat-
ing as a whole, somewhat as faculty psychology distinguished be-
tween will and thought and feeling. Consider, e.g., the assertion
(p. 14) "the immediate fact for awareness is the whole occurrence
of nature. ' ' 10 Obviously this can not be taken literally ; no one
can be sensibly aware of, or even perceive, the whole of Nature.
Given the conditions, Nature may be discernible or perceivable or
' ' awarable " ; " and then molecules, electrons and electric waves
are "parts of nature" (p. 29). They would appear therefore to
be "natural entities"; but on the other hand "entities are factors,"
and "factors are termini of sense-awareness," which "discloses
factors which are the entities for thought"; further, the relations,
"between natural entities are themselves natural entities factors
there for sense-awareness" (pp. 12-14). This is sufficiently defi-
nite ; 12 but plainly in two directions with regard to Nature in
its entirety as in its minutest constituents the two terms, sense-
awareness and perception, bear the widest possible meaning ; for in
both aspects Nature actually becomes known through sense-aware-
ness supplemented by conception, inference and calculation; but
in both aspects, again, Nature is real; for "scientific laws are
statements about entities in nature: molecules and electrons are
factors in nature" (pp. 45, 46).
But when Dr. Whitehead undertakes a more systematic analy-
sis of Nature, results vitally different are obtained as to the "enti-
ties posited for knowledge in sense-awareness." In Chap. III. we
find that what may be called the unit factor or initial datum of
these natural entities is a complex "event a place through a
10 Cf. also, " the philosophy of science is the philoeophy of the thing per-
ceived. Everything perceived is in nature. Nature is that which we observe in
perception through the senses " (pp. 28, 29, 30).
11 Cf. p. 52, ' ' signified events include events in the past as well as the
future " ; an event being ' ' a place through a period of time. ' '
12 Ibid., " the complete general fact which is all nature now present as dis-
closed in sense-awareness. ' '
152 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
period of time" a complex, i.e., within which space, time, and
other entities may be discriminated. The totality of simultaneous
events constitutes another fundamental datum, a "duration, a com-
plex of partial events"; and both events and durations possess, es-
-ntially, "temporal thickness" "a duration is a concrete slab of
nature, an essential factor disclosed in sense-awareness; not a mere
abstract stretch of time." It is, in short, a longer or briefer proc-
ess of nature just as it happens in time filling up time as it were.
Contrasted with this is the "moment," as the content of "all
nature at an instant," with "no temporal extension" or thickness;
and then it is essential to the whole of Dr. Whitehead's developed
theory that while durations (including events), being "directly
yielded to knowledge by sense-awareness, ' ' are definite natural enti-
ties and "have all the reality that nature has," the moment on the
other hand "is not itself a natural event; in truth there is no na-
ture at an instant"; it is a nonentity; Dr. Whitehead, in short,
adopts what may be called a quantum theory of temporal nature. 1 '
Xow on what is this fundamental contrast founded? It is
based, consistently with Dr. Whitehead's acceptance of sense-aware-
ness as the criterion of natural content, on the evidence afforded
by that type of consciousness. "There is no such thing as nature
at an instant posited by sense-awareness. What sense-awareness
delivers over for knowledge is nature through a period. Accord-
ingly nature at an instant is not itself a real entity"; it is at best
"a very useful concept."
This course of argument seems to raise two serious difficulties.
In the first place, even if we accept the content of sense-awareness
as our criterion, the question of the real existence of moments is
determined by precisely the same method as is that of the real ex-
istence of electrons and molecules; that is, by a process of infer-
ence or reasoning. 14 This process, no doubt, must begin from the
real data of sense-awareness; but it is impossible to maintain, in
either case, that the truth of the conclusion can be determined by
sense-awareness as such, no matter how wide a meaning be given
to this term. But Dr. Whitehead regards molecules and electrons
as real existent factors in nature ; moments, on the other hand, are
not natural entities. And his ground for this denial of reality is not
that it is irrational or inconceivable, but simply that it is not a
deliverance of sense-awareness "there is no such thing posited by
But exactly the same may be said of electrons
"It may elucidate Dr. Whitehead's position to refer to Lotze's distinction
between empty time as " a creation of our intellect ' ' and ' ' the succession belong-
ing to (the operation of things) itself, which is the most proper nature of the
real. ' ' Metaphytic, I, pp. 350, 354.
" The exact logical character of this process is here immaterial.
WHITEHEAD'S SCIENTIFIC REALISM 153
and molecules. Sense-awareness combined with one course of reason-
ing gives us the idea of moments; these Dr. Whitehead regards as
unreal, ultimately because sense-awareness, delivering nature
through a period, does not posit them. Sense-awareness again, com-
bined with another course of reasoning similar in character though
differing in details, yields the idea of electrons; but these are real,
although sense-awareness (purely as such) plainly does not posit
these either. Thus the merely negative verdict of awareness is en-
dorsed in one case, but repudiated in the other.
But as I have already pointed out, Dr. Whitehead admits the
existence of natural factors "there in nature" which though
"not posited by sense-awareness may be known to the intellect
not disclosed in sense-awareness but known by logical inference as
necessarily in being" (pp. 125, 126). These entities may be of
fundamental importance; e.g., "identity of quality between con-
gruent segments is generally of this character"; and the theory of
congruence occupies the whole of Chap. VI. Thus Dr. Whitehead
accepts the general principle that logical inference may contribute
to the determination of the content of nature; so that it appears
quite illegitimate to rule out the existence of moments simply on
the ground that they are not posited in sense-awareness.
I am not of course arguing that moments have real existence,
nor am I resorting to any metaphysical theory to decide the ques-
tion; I merely suggest that Dr. Whitehead 's arguments, as they
stand, are insufficient to establish the nonentity of moments. And
this leads to the second difficulty attending his position; for it is
by no means so certain as he assumes it to be that sense-awareness
does actually posit events or durations having temporal thickness
or persistence. Again I do not deny the existence, within the con-
tent of sense-awareness, of durations in Dr. Whitehead 's special
sense; but there are weighty considerations which he has ignored
which make it impossible to accept this durational character as per-
taining to nature itself merely on the evidence of sense-awareness.
For it is possible that the durational aspect of this content is
partially or even completely deceptive, and arises from the condi-
tions determining consciousness; conditions which are of course in
no sense metaphysical but purely natural, as Dr. Whitehead him-
self points out on p. 107. I do not assert that this durational
character is deceptive, but only that this possibility is not absolutely
excluded by Dr. Whitehead 's theory; so that duration may be an
added quality conferred by sense-awareness itself 15 upon its con-
tent even while that content is at the same time a natural reality
(or a nature) wholly non-durational. It is true that Dr. White-
is Not, be it noted, by any other (ideal or conceptual) type of consciousness.
154 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
head refuses, on what are, I think, good grounds, "to countenance
any theory of psychic additions to the object known in perception"
(p. 29). But this does not exclude the possibility I suggest
nothing more of awareness or observation conferring its own dura-
tional character 18 upon a durationless nature: and the same ap-
plies to the remarks on p. 187. That the duration does not wholly
pertain to Nature is a fact of elementary psychology; but it is
further by no means inconceivable that a completely non-dura-
tional nature may give rise by perseveration and after-imagery
within sense-awareness to a durational content. Were we to assume
indeed that electrons were perceivable, then their enormous veloci-
ties and infinitesimal dimensions would result in something closely
approaching if not identical with this state of things. 17
These considerations in no way alter the problem of natural phi-
losophy. That is still, in Dr. Whitehead's words, "to discuss the
relations inter se of things known abstracted from the bare fact that
they are known" (p. 30). But knowledge must not be wholly iden-
tified with sense-awareness; rather must the latter be criticized in
the light of fuller knowledge in order to ascertain what distinctions,
if any, obtain between its special content and Nature itself. Dr.
Whitehead, however, prevents this being done by anticipation; for
the two conditions which he assumes 18 for durations preclude in
advance any possibility of the reality of moments. "Nature," in
short, "is nothing else than the deliverance of sense-awareness"
(p. 185).
And fundamentally difficult though it undoubtedly is to regard
an event as a sequence or sum or group of instantaneous moments,
still Dr. Whitehead's later theory of "objects" seems to leave us no
other alternative. An event, as we have seen, has (essentially) "tem-
poral thickness"; and it also (as a whole) "passes." Still this in
itself does not, I think, prevent us from thinking of an event as con-
taining within itself constituents which, although they possess the
slightest possible temporal thickness, and are therefore not instan-
taneous, still do not themselves ' ' pass. ' ' There does not seem to me
to be anything illogical about this possibility; Dr. Whitehead, how-
ever, excludes it by definition. For any element in nature which
does not pass is- an object; and an object is not an event; the char-
acteristics of the two are mutually exclusive, in spite of their insep-
i In fact Dr. Whitehead points out the ' ' passage of sense-awareness and of
thought "; i.e. of sense-awareness as an activity " a procedure of mind "
not as a content or terminus. But here again his distinction between passage
and duration seems quite arbitrary, or even to have a metaphysical basis! (Pp.
66-73.)
i* Cf. the express train illustration, p. 109.
P. 60 ; that it is an assumption is obvious.
WHITEHEAD'S SCIENTIFIC REALISM 155
arable inter-connection (pp. 143, 144, 169). Now blue is one object;
a coat is another and an electron is a third ; and I think it is unde-
niable that all these have temporal thickness; by which (with Dr.
Whitehead) I do not mean "a particular second at a definite date"
(p. 149) but rather the temporal raw material given in awareness
out of which dates and seconds are obtained, it matters not how.
Thus objects, as such, have temporal thickness. 19 Any constituent
of an event therefore which has any temporal thickness, no matter
how slight, and which does not pass, is not an event, but an object ;
so that the only possible ultimate events' proper must be instantane-
ous. As I have said already, Dr. Whitehead seems to me to avoid
this conclusion only by the prior assumption of properties of dura-
tion which exclude it in advance (p. 60). Still we may in a certain
sense speak of "an object at an instant" (p. 161) ; what then dis-
tinguishes this from an instantaneous event? Plainly the fact that
in obtaining temporal thickness it does not pass; or in other words
that the event, to be an event, must retain its passage even while it
assumes temporal thickness. To say that this reduces the event-
particle or the moment to an abstraction is no valid objection, for
' ' to be an abstraction . . . means that its existence is only one factor
of a more concrete element of nature" (p. 171).
The exact meaning of the passage however is somewhat uncertain.
' ' Each duration happens and passes. The process of nature can also
be termed the passage of nature" (p. 54). This seems to mean that
events come into being and pass away, which would constitute their
uniqueness; objects, on the other hand, do not pass. The idea cer-
tainly appears to imply activity; and on p. 185 passage is given as
an alternative for activity. This however would imply that objects
are never active. At the same time "the event is what it is, because
the object is what it is; each object is in some sense ingredient
throughout nature. The ingression of every electron into nature
modifies to some extent the character of every event" (pp. 144, 145,
159). It is obviously difficult therefore, particularly if electrons
are eternal, to regard objects as essentially inactive; so that this
equivalence between passage and activity is not easy to comprehend.
4. A few remarks in conclusion on the distinctive standpoints of
science and philosophy with regard to space and time may not be
superfluous. Science regards these entities as essentially measured
(or at least measurable) systems which together constitute the space-
time manifold. This means that the results of measurement are fully
as important as that which is measured, perhaps more important;
i This seems to be supported by each object being ingredient i.e., active,
operative, influential throughout nature (pp. 145, 159). A musical tune, again,
is also an object.
156 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
in other words, the different time- and space-systems are as material
to thought as time and space themselves. Philosophy however takes
a somewhat profounder view ; for it time and space are in their own
nature more significant than the scientific systems; somewhat as the
monetary system of his own country is of primary interest to a
banker, while an economist is more concerned with currency as an
element in universal exchange. And now that the space-time mani-
fold has attained such prominence, it is well to remember that it is
no mysterious entity additional to time and space themselves, as
though it were something wholly different in its nature within which
these disappear or dissolve. Any such view would be to repeat the
error so often made in dealing with time and space by erecting them
into independent realities. The manifold is but the coexistence or
unity of space and time, which coexist within reality in their own
characters, like nitrogen and oxygen in air, not compounded into a
third wholly different substance like oxygen and hydrogen in water.
Regarded in this light, there is one subject of essential import-
ance the uniformity of time and space throughout the universe,
as distinct, i.e., from any uniformity of time and space systems. As
to the latter, there can be no question; observers in different situa-
tions must employ separate though interrelated systems. We may
some day obtain both a common language and a general currency;
but it is impossible for a universal time and space system ever to
be constructed and employed ; the very conditions of physical reality
forbid it. But this still leaves open the question of the uniformity
of time and space; the latter, e.g., has been described as bent or
warped or condensed in the vicinity of matter. Are these and other
similar statements metaphorical or literal ? Mathematical devices or
descriptions of reality? Dr. Whitehead, being naturally concerned
with systems, leaves the subject in some obscurity, in spite of his
repudiation of Einstein's own interpretation (p. 165). "What a
being under the one set of circumstances means by space will be
different from that meant by a being under the other set" (p. 168) ;
so that English and Martian observers will obtain different results
from any one Earth land survey. But what is it that thus deter-
mines local differences in circumstances f In the end all circum-
stances resolve themselves into events. ' ' The concrete facts of nature
are events; event-particles are the ultimate elements of the mani-
fold" (pp. 167, 173). Why, then, the question becomes, are events
for A different from events for B ? * Martians employ space natural
20 Or event- particles; but any truly final explanation must be in terms of th
concrete events. It is assumed of course that A and B both have minds of one
and the same general type, otherwise the basis of difference is not, in Dr. White-
head 'B sense, natural.
THE SIGNIFICANT SYMBOL 157
to them ' ' Martio-centric space in which that planet is fixed. Thus
the g-space for Mars is quite different from the p-space on earth"
(pp. 175, 176). This however must not be taken to mean that the
Martian manifold is necessarily different from ours, for space and
time denote only the relative systems "are merely ways of express-
ing certain truths about the relations between events" (p. 168). If
then the manifold itself is uniform, what is the basis of the unavoid-
able differentiation among the systems? It is scarcely sufficient to
fall back on the "creative advance of nature" (p. 178), unless we
assume that this advance in itself necessitates a non-uniform mani-
fold, 21 but this of course begs the question. Nor again does uni-
formity of the manifold necessarily follow from that of the momen-
tary spaces and timeless spaces of p. 194 ; for these may be no more
than mathematical or methodological devices.
But difficulties on points of detail such as those I have mentioned
are inevitable ; even were they far more serious, still Dr. Whitehead's
work constitutes a distinct advance in the discussion of ontology;
and if it could be supplemented from the strictly philosophic stand-
point, we should be much nearer a lasting and satisfactory realism.
There appear to me to be two marked parallel tendencies in current
philosophy one towards absolutism, the other towards realism. But
absolutism has for long been misrepresented and therefore misun-
derstood; it has been presented at once as too subjective and too
abstract. 22 I do not see anything which prevents realism from tak-
ing its place within a system of absolute idealism fuller and deeper
than any yet conceived. Vestigia nulla retrorsum, some one will say ;
but then the absolute is not a cave. Even if it were, we are in it
already.
J. B. TURNER.
LIVEBPOOL, ENGLAND.
A BEHAVIORISTIC ACCOUNT OF THE SIGNIFICANT
SYMBOL
THE statement I wish to present rests upon the following as-
sumptions, which I can do no more than state: I assume,
provisionally, the hypothesis of the physical sciences, that physical
objects and the physical universe may be analyzed into a complex
of physical corpuscles. I assume that the objects of immediate ex-
21 As distinct, i.e., from the systems. There must be some distinction, other-
wise we should have systems of measurement with nothing to measure; " a
measure-system measures something inherent in nature" (p. 196).
22 ' ' The Absolutism which comes in for rebuke at the hands of pluralist
critics is a fiction of their own imagination. ' ' Radhakrishnan, Eeign of Eeligion
in Philosophy, p. 407.
158 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOP11 Y
perience exist in relationship to the biologic and social individuals
whose environments they make up. This relationship involves on
the one hand the selection through the sensitivities and reactions of
the living forms of those elements that go to make up the object.
On the other hand these objects affect the plants and animals,
whose natures are responsible for them as objects, e.g., food e\
as an immediate experience in its relation to the individuals that
eat it. There is no such thing as food apart from such indi-
viduals. The selection of the characters which go to make up food
is a function of living individuals. The effect of this food upon the
living individuals is what we call adaptation of the form to the
environment or its opposite. Whatever may be said of a mechanic
cal universe of ultimate physical particles, the lines that are drawn 1
about objects in experience are drawn by the attitudes and conduct *
of individual living forms. Apart from such an experience in-
volving both the form and its environment, such objects do not
exist.
On the other hand these objects exist objectively, as they J
are in immediate experience. The relation of objects making up
an environment to the plants and the animals in no sense renders
these objects subjective. What are termed the natures of objects are
in the objects, as are their so-called sensuous qualities, but these
natures are not in the objects either as external or internal rela-
tions, they are of the very essence of the objects, and become rela-
tions only in the thought process. The so-called sensuous qualities
exist also in the objects, but only in their relations to the sensitive
organisms whose environments they form.
The causal effect of the living organisms on their environment 1
in creating objects is as genuine as the effect of the environment
upon the living organism. A digestive tract creates food as truly
as the advance of a glacial cap wipes out some animals or selects
others which can grow warm coats of hair. An animal's sensitive-
ness to a particular character in ai. object gives the object in its
relation to the animal a peculiar nature. Where there is sensi-
tiveness to two or more different characters of the object, answer-
ing to reactions that conflict and thus inhibit each other, the object
is in so far analyzed. Thus the width of a stream would be isolated
from the other characters of the stream through the inhibition of the
animal's tendency to jump over it. In the immediate experience in
which the animal organism and its environment are involved, these
characters of the objects and the inhibited reactions that answer to
them are there or exist, as characters, though as yet they have no
significance nor are they located in minds or consciousnesses.
Amonz objects in the immediate experience of animals are the
THE SIGNIFICANT SYMBOL 159
different parts of their own organisms, which have different char-
acters from those of other objects especially hedonic characters,
and those of stresses and excitements but characters not referred
to selves until selves arise in experience. They are only accident-
ally private, i.e., necessarily confined to the experience of single
individuals. If after the fashion of the Siamese Twins two
organisms were so joined that the same organ were connected
with the central nervous system of each, each would have the same
painful or pleasurable object in experience. A toothache or a
pleased palate are objects for a single individual for reasons that
are not essentially different from those which make the flame of a
match scratched in a room in which there is only one individual
an object only for that individual. It is not the exclusion of an
object from the experience in which others are involved which
renders it subjective ; it is rendered subjective by being referred by
an individual to his self, when selves have arisen in the development
of conduct. Exclusive experiences are peculiarly favorable for such
reference, but characteristics of objects for every one may be so re-
ferred in mental processes.
Among objects that exist only for separate individuals are so-
called images. They are there, but are not necessarily located in
space. They do enter into the structure of things, as notably on '
the printed page, or in the hardness of a distant object ; and in hal-
lucinations they may be spatially located. They are dependent
for their existence upon conditions in the organism especially
those of the central nervous system as are other objects in ex-
perience such as mountains and chairs. When referred to the
self they become memory images, or those of a creative imagina-
tion, but they are not mental or spiritual stuff.
Conduct is the sum of the reactions of living beings to their '
environments, especially to the objects which their relation to the '
environment has "cut out of it," to use a Bergsonian phrase.
Among these objects are certain which are of peculiar importance
to which I wish to refer, viz., other living forms which belong to
the same group. The attitudes and early indications of actions
of these forms are peculiarly important stimuli, and to extend a
Wundtian term may be called "gestures." These other living
forms in the group to which the organism belongs may be called
social objects and exist as such before selves come into existence.
These gestures call out definite, and in all highly organized forms,
partially predetermined reactions, such as those of sex, of parenthood,
of hostility, and possibly others, such as the so-called herd instincts.
In so far as these specialized reactions are present in the nature
of individuals, they tend to arise whenever the appropriate stimu-
160 JOURNAL OF PU1LOSOP1I Y
lu.s, or gesture calls them out. If an individual uses such a gesture,
and he is affected by it as another individual is affected by it, he
responds or tends to respond to his own social stimulus, as another
individual would respond. A notable instance of this is in the
song, or vocal gesture of birds. The vocal gesture is of peculiar
importance because it reacts upon the individual who makes it
in the same fashion that it reacts upon another, but this is also true
in a less degree of those of one's own gestures that he can see or feel.
The self arises in conduct, when the individual becomes a social
object in experience to himself. This takes place when the indi-
vidual assumes the attitude or uses the gesture which another indi-
vidual would use and responds to it himself, or tends so to re-
spond. It is a development that arises gradually in the life of
the infant and presumably arose gradually in the life of the race.
It arises in the life of the infant through what is unfortunately
called imitation, and finds its expression in the normal play life
of young children. In the process the child gradually becomes a
social being in his own experience, and he acts toward himself in a
manner analogous to that in which he acts toward others. Espec-
ially he talks to himself as he talks to others and in keeping up
this conversation in the inner forum constitutes the field which is
called that of mind. Then those objects and experiences which be-
long to his own body, those images which belong to his own past,
become part of this self.
In the behavior of forms lower than man, we find one individual
indicating objects to other forms, though without what we term
signification. The hen that pecks at the angleworn is directly
though without intention indicating it to the chicks. The animal
in a herd that scents danger, in moving away indicates to the other
members of the herd the direction of safety and puts them in the
attitude of scenting the same danger. The hunting dog points
to the hidden bird. The lost lamb that bleats, and the child that
cries each points himself out to his mother. All of these gestures,
to the intelligent observer, are significant symbols, but they are
none of them significant to the forms that make them.
In what does this significance consist in terms of a behavioristic
psychology? A summary answer would be that the gesture not
only actually brings the stimulus-object into the range of the re-
actions of other forms, but that the nature of the object is also
indicated; especially do we imply in the term significance that the
individual who points out indicates the nature to himself. But
it is not enough that he should indicate this meaning whatever
meaning is as it exists for himself alone, but that he should indi-
cate that meaning as it exists for the other to whom he is pointing
THE SIGNIFICANT SYMBOL 161
it out. The widest use of the term implies that he indicates the
meaning to any other individual to whom it might be pointed out
in the same situation. In so far then as the individual takes the
attitude of another toward himself, and in some sense arouses in
himself the tendency to the action, which his conduct calls out in
the other individual, he will have indicated to himself the meaning
of the gesture. This implies a definition of meaning that it is an
indicated reaction which the object may call out. When we find
that we have adjusted ourselves to a comprehensive set of reactions
toward an object we feel that the meaning of the object is ours.
But that the meaning may be ours, it is necessary that we should be
able to regard ourselves as taking this attitude of adjustment to
response. We must indicate to ourselves not only the object but
also the readiness to respond in certain ways to the object, and
this indication must be made in the attitude or role of the other
individual to whom it is pointed out or to whom it may be pointed
out. If this is not the case it has not that common property which
is involved in significance. It is through the ability to be the other
at the same time that he is himself that the symbol becomes signifi-
cant. The common statement of this is that we have in mind, what
we indicate to another that he shall do. In giving directions, we
give the direction to ourselves at the same time that we give it to an-
other. We assume also his attitude of response to our requests, as
an individual to whom the direction has the same signification in
his conduct that it has to ourselves.
But signification is not confined to the particular situation
within which an indication is given. It acquires universal mean-
ing. Even if the two are the only ones involved, the form in which
it is given is universal it would have the same meaning to any
other who might find himself in the same position. How does this
generalization arise? From the behavioristic standpoint it must
take place through the individual generalizing himself in his atti-
tude of the other. We are familiar enough with the undertaking,
in social and moral instruction to children and to those who are
not children. A child acquires the sense of property through
taking what may be called the attitude of the generalized other.
Those attitudes which all assume in given conditions and over
against the same objects, become for him attitudes which every
one assumes. In taking the role which is common to all, he finds
himself speaking to himself and to others with the authority of the
group. These attitudes become axiomatic. The generalization is
simply the result of the identity of responses. Indeed it is only
as he has in some sense amalgamated the attitudes of the different
roles in which he has addressed himself that he acquires the unity
162 JOURNAL OF PHlLOSOl'll Y
of personality. The "me" that he addresses is constantly varied.
It answers to the changing play of impulse, but the group solidar-
ity, especially in its uniform restrictions, gives him the unity of
universality. This I take to be the sole source of the universal.
It quickly passes the bounds of the specific group. It is the vox
populi, vox dei, the "voice of men and of angels." Education and
varied experience refine out of it what is provincial, and leave
"what is true for all men at all times." From the first, its form
is universal, for differences of the different attitudes of others wear
their peculiarities away. In the play period, however, before the
child has reached that of competitive games in which he seeks
to pit his own acquired self against others in the play period
this process is not fully carried out and the child is as varied as
his varying moods ; but in the game he sees himself in terms of the
group or the gang and speaks with a passion for rules and stand-
ards. Its social advantage and even necessity makes this approach
to himself imperative. He must see himself as the whole group
sees him. This again has passed under the head of passive imita-
tion. But it is not in uniform attitudes that universality appears
as a recognized factor in either inner or outer behavior. It is found
rightly in thought and thought is the conversation of this general-
ized other with the self.
The significant symbol is then the gesture, the sign, the word
which is addressed to the self when it is addressed to another indi-
vidual, and is addressed to another, in form to all other indi-
viduals, when it is addressed to the self.
Signification has, as we have seen, two references, one to the thing
indicated, and the other to the response, to the instance and to the
meaning or idea. It denotes and connotes. When the symbol is used
for the one, it is a name. When it is used for the other, it is a con-
cept. But it neither denotes nor connotes except, when in form at
least, denotation and connotation are addressed both to a self and to
others, when it is in a universe of discourse that is oriented with re-
ference to a self. If the gesture simply indicates the object to another,
it has no meaning to the individual who makes it, nor does the re-
sponse which the other individual carries out become a meaning to
him, unless he assumes the attitude of having his attention directed
by an individual to whom it has a meaning. Then he takes his own
response to be the meaning of the indication. Through this sympa-
thetic placing of themselves in each other's roles, and finding thus in
their own experiences the responses of the others, what would other-
wise be an unintelligent gesture, acquires just the value which is
connoted by signification, both in its specific application and in its
universality.
NOTES AND NEWS 163
It should be added that in so far as thought that inner conver-
sation in which objects as stimuli are both separated from and related
to their responses is identified with consciousness, that is in so far
as consciousness is identified with awareness, it is the result of this
development of the self in experience. The other prevalent significa-
tion of consciousness is found simply in the presence of objects in
experience. With the eyes shut we can say we are no longer conscious
of visual objects. If the condition of the nervous system or certain
tracts in it, cancels the relation of individual and his environment,
he may be said to lose consciousness or some portion of it ; i.e., some
objects or all of them pass out of experience for this individual. Of
peculiar interest is the disappearance of a painful object, e.g., an
aching tooth under a local anesthetic. A general anesthetic shuts out
all objects.
As above indicated analysis takes place through the conflict of
responses which isolates separate features of the object and both sep-
arates them from and relates them to their responses, i.e., their mean-
ings. The response becomes a meaning, when it is indicated by a
generalized attitude both to the self and to others. Mind, which is a
process within which this analysis and its indications take place, lies
in a field of conduct between a specific individual and the environ-
ment, in which the individual is able, through the generalized attitude
he assumes, to make use of symbolic gestures, i.e., terms, which are
significant to all including himself.
While the conflict of reactions takes place within the individual,
the analysis takes place in the object. Mind is then a field that is not
confined to the individual much less is located in a brain. Signifi-
cance belongs to things in their relations to individuals. It does not
lie in mental processes 1 which are enclosed within individuals.
GEORGE H. MEAD.
UNIVERSITY OF CHICAGO.
The Analysis of Mind. BERTBAND RUSSELL. London : George Allen
and Unwin. New York : The Macmillan Co. 1921. Pp. 310.
The book deals with that conception of the nature of mind which
is involved in regarding physical objects as constructs of appearances.
Thus it is in effect the logical sequel to views expressed by the author
in his Lowell Lectures, and in it he has given us what is the most com-
plete and balanced statement to date of the results of his philosophic
method.
Mr. Russell's central thesis is that all psychical phenomena are
built up out of sensations and images, and nothing else. This involves
164 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
a departure from his own piwiou> theory "that the essence of every-
thing mental is a certain quite peculiar something called 'conscious-
ness','* and more specifically a revision of his doctrine of knowledge
by acquaintance. Moreover since the physical as well as the psychical
is a construction of appearances, his most fundamental systematic
problem is that of distinguishing between mind and matter. In lec-
ture I (Recent criticisms of "consciousness"), and lecture VI (Intro-
spection), he shows that this must not be thought of as a substantial
dualism. His general position is a monism whose ideal is "that funda-
mental science . . . the true metaphysic, in which mind and matter
alike are seen to be constructed out of a neutral stuff" (p. 287).
This ultimate stuff, which presumably consists of the multiplicity
of appearances, is the common subject-matter both of physics and
psychology. But the latter science deals with it by means of causal
laws which have two special characteristics. In the first place, all
psychical phenomena are said to posseas "subjectivity." To thi<
term a very special meaning attaches, which may be made clear as
follows. Every particular of the kind considered by physics may
on the one hand be regarded as a member of a group constituting
a thing, as explained in Mr. Russell 's Lowell Lectures and elsewhere,
as well as in the present work ; on the other hand it may be a mem-
ber of a group constituting a perspective, a group of which in turn
make up a "biography." The most significant purely logical mark
of a biography is that it possesses a linear time-order, that is, it is
a group of entities which have direct time-relations (simultaneous
with, before, after) with respect to any one of themselves, as opposed
to the time order of the physical universe. The "local time" of the
theory of relativity occurs in biographies. And it is such a classi-
fication, which is also called classification by "passive places," that
Mr. Russell understands as the essence of subjectivity. But this is
not a complete designation of the nature of psychical phenomena,
for many such biographies will have nothing to do with mind. A
photographic plate might have a biography in this sense. An addi-
tional determining factor is needed for the specification of mind,
and this is provided by "mnemic causation." This means that the
nature of our experience of any event is not wholly caused by the
immediate, present occurrence of that event, but also by its past
occurrences in our experience. "This characteristic is embodied in
the saying 'the burnt child dreads the fire'. The burn may have
left no visible traces, yet it modifies the reaction of the child in the
presence of the fire" (p. 77). While Mr. Russell agrees that it is
probable that such phenomena can be explained by regarding the
results of experience as being embodied in modifications of the brain
and nerves, he points out that this is a theory only, and prefers to
NOTES AND NEWS 165
operate with the bare formulation of the observed facts. Thus "the
two most essential characteristics of the causal laws which would
naturally be called psychological are subjectivity and mnemic causa-
tion" (p. 307).
The bulk of the book is taken up with the detailed elaboration of
the theory above outlined in terms in its application to various
psychological and epistemological conceptions. A perception is the
appearance of an object from a place where there is a brain. Such
appearances undergo distortion owing to the intervening media of
the organic structure, and also stand in the nexus of mnemic causa-
tion. Sensations are the non-mnemic core of perceptions, and are
the elements common to both the mental and physical worlds.
Images differ from sensations in that their causation is wholly
mnemic, that is, they arise from past experience. Belief, which is
"the central problem in the analysis of mind" (p. 231) is analyzed
into content, which is a complex of images and sensations, and a
specific feeling called believing, which is "presumably a complex
sensation demanding analysis" (p. 251). In terms of belief are
defined memory, expectation, and assent, the differences between
them being not an affair of content, but arising out of the three
kinds of belief-feeling which may attach to any complex of images.
Imagination consists of images without belief. The study of belief
also leads to a formal theory of truth and falsehood. Emotions and
will are discussed in consonance with the general position of the
book, emotions being regarded as serial patterns of sensations and
images. Desire is treated as being a sort of analogue to force in
physics. Instinct and habit are also considered. The meaning of
words, and also that of images is explained largely with reference
to mnemic causation. In dealing with general ideas we are given a
very valuable analysis of vagueness and the generic image. The
discussion of introspection is notable for its penetration and lucidity.
In the final lecture there is presented a theory of consciousness. An
interesting point is the philosophical assimilation of the psycho-
analytic method. At the close of the book is an analytic table of
contents which is remarkable only for its lack of value.
The whole work, which displays its author's constructive insight
and analytic power to the best advantage, is of great methodolog-
ical interest as a thoroughgoing reconstitution of structural psy-
chology. Mr. Russell rejects behaviorism as an ultimate account of
the nature of mind, because it is based on a faulty philosophy of
physics, which fails to regard the universe as fundamentally a multi-
plicity of particulars. Perhaps the weakest spot is the treatment
of belief-feelings, which are somewhat dogmatically said to consist
of complex sensations, although no attempt is made to analyze these
166 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
complexes. This, Imwcvrr, is at the worst an error of omission,
and throughout w<- find an accuracy in defining and a directness
in attacking p'-miim- problems not usual in work of this character.
The cut in- discussion will be welcomed, not only as the latest author-
itative exposition of a point of view which has become very in-
fluential, but also as a highly significant contribution to modern
philosophy.
JAMES L. MURSELL.
COLUMBUS, OHIO.
JOURNALS AND NEW BOOKS
THE AMERICAN JOURNAL OF PSYCHOLOGY, July, 1921.
An Experimental Investigation of the Positive After-Image in Audi-
tion (pp. 305-325). HOMER GUY Bisnop.-There is no positive after
image of tone similar to the nature of the visual after-image. The
Influence of Color upon Mental and Motor Efficiency (pp. 326-356) :
SIDNEY L. PREssEY.-Experimental evidence suggests that there is a
slowing up of mental .work under dim light, but hues aside from
brightness show no effect. Bibliography. The Nature of the Affec-
tive Judgment in the Method of Paired Comparisons (pp. 357-369) :
M. YoKOYAMA.-The method of paired comparisons can no longer be
considered as a typical laboratory setting for the study of affections.
A Study in Logical Memory (pp. 370-403) : SARAH D. MACKAY
AusnN.-After from two to four weeks repetitions of both logical
and nonsense material proved of greater value than cumulative
repetitions. In Aid of Introspection (pp. 404-414) : HORACE BID-
WELL ENGLiSH.-Introspection is approved as a psychological method.
Several rules are given. "Any one with a good memory and a sincere
desire to improve can learn to introspect in a way which will be of
distinct scientific usefulness." Minor Studies from the Psychological
Laboratory of Cornell University. An Experimental Study of Cuta-
neous Imagery (pp. 415-420) : CATHERINE BRADDOCK.-Cutaneous
images come up rarely if ever. The Integration of Punctiform Cold
and Pressure (pp. 421-424) : S. TuNQ.-The simultaneous stimula-
tion of pressure and cold spots was felt as wet-cold. The H<
Color-Blindness Apparatus and the Normal Equation (pp. 425-428) :
M. WINFIELD AND C. STRONG.-Variation from the normality in color
combination approvals is insufficient evidence for normality an 1
abnormality. The After-Effect of Seen Movement When the Whole
Visual Field is filed by a Moving Stimulus (pp. 429-441) : WELLING-
TON A. THALMAN.-The after-effect is observed when the whole visual
field is filled by an objective moving stimulus the chief conditioning
factor of which is duration. Book Revieirs: J. B. Pratt, The religious
NOTES AND NEWS 167
consciousness: a psychological study: E. S. AMES. S. Bernfeld,
Da-s jiidisohe Volk und seine Jugend: S. FELDMAN. A Note on,
"Vocality" (pp. 446-447) : GILBERT J. RICH. Consciousness in the
Siamese Twins: E. G. B.
Dewey, Evelyn. The Dalton Laboratory Plan. New York: E. P.
Button & Co. 1922. Pp. vii -f 173.
Leon, Xavier. Fichte et son Temps. Vol. I. Etablissement et Pred-
ication de la Doctrine de la Liberte; Le Vie de Fichte jusqu'au
depart d'lena (1762-1799). Paris: Armand Colin. 1922. Pp.
xvi -f 652. 30 fr.
McCall, William A. How to Measure in Education. New York:
The Macmillan Co. 1922. Pp. xii -f 416.
Moore, Jared Sparks. The Foundations of Psychology. Princeton,
N. J. : University Press. 1922. Pp. xix -f 239. $3.
Poyer, Georges. Les Problemes Generaux de THeredite psycholo-
gique. Paris: Felix Alcan. 1921. Pp. 302. 15 fr.
Eeyburn, Hugh A. The Ethical Theory of Hegel: A Study of the
Philosophy of Right. Oxford: The Clarendon Press. 1921.
Pp. xx -f 268.
NOTES AND NEWS
A meeting of the Aristotelian Society was held in London on
January 16, Dr. F. C. S. Schiller, President, in the chair. A paper
on "Plato's Theory of et'/cacrta" was presented by Mr. H. J. Paton.
In Plato 's account of the Line and the Cave in the Republic he dis-
tinguishes two sub-divisions of opinion (el/caa-ia or intuition and
Trwrri? or belief) and two sub-divisions of knowledge ( Siavoia or
mathematical reasoning and vowa-is or philosophical reasoning).
This must be understood as implying a difference of objects in each
of the four sub-divisions, just as the objects of opinion and knowl-
edge are different the changing individuals as opposed to the un-
changing universals. The parallelism or analogy between the ob-
jects of the two main divisions and those of the sub-divisions is meant
to be taken seriously throughout. In particular the objects of the
elxaa-ia or intuition are the many appearances, whether given in
what we call sense or memory or imagination, from which we pass
to the objects of TTIO-TK or belief the solid bodies of the ordinary
consciousness and of science, things relatively permanent and re-
latively intelligible in comparison with their many appearances,
168 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOI'Jl Y
although e!ian^in ( .r and unintelligible in comparison \\ith the really
permanent and really intelligible fiSij or universals. It is a com-
plete prror to regard ciKao-ta and its objects as of no metaphysical
importance, and an und'Tstandin:/ of the nature of this section is
mres-ary if \v> are to grasp Plato's u'fneral theory of knowledge.
Even Plato's theory that art must be classified under this first
cognitive activity of the spirit is in iis essence sound in spite of
the fact that some of the conclusions which he derived from it were
mistaken.
The annual meeting of the Western Division of the American
Philosophical Association this year will be held at the University
of Nebraska, Lincoln, Nebraska, on Friday and Saturday, April
14 and 15. As usual, members will have opportunity to present
papers not exceeding twenty minutes in length on any topics of
their selection. It is proposed however that one afternoon session
be devoted to Logical Aspects of Critical Realism with Professor A.
W. Moore as leader of the discussion. All who feel especially in-
terested in the recent volume, Essays in Critical Realism, or any
of its problems, are invited to participate. It has been suggested that
the papers of one other session relate to the problem of The Nature
of the Self, the topic being taken broadly as covering methodological
aspects of the Mind-Body Problem, especially Interactionism as it
has recently been presented, and the relations of Mechanism and
Teleology as pertaining to the nature of the self. Should the papers
offered warrant doing so, this suggestion will be followed in arrang-
ing the program. A list of references on this subject may be ob-
tained from the Secretary, Professor G. A. Tawney, University of
Cincinnati, Cincinnati, Ohio. It is essential that the Secretary be
notified of the titles at an early date. Abstracts of all papers to be
read should be in his hands not later than April 7, and fifteen to
twenty copies of each abstract would be highly desirable for distribu-
tion.
A group of scientific men and women from Russia now living in
the United States have organized themselves into the "Russian
Academic Group. ' ' Their first annual meeting was held on January
12. The purpose of the organization is threefold: (1) to study the
social, economic and industrial problems involved in the develop-
ment of Russia; (2) to bring about a closer contact between the
scientific and educational institutions of America and Russia; and (3)
to help in the reconstruction of the academic life of the Russian
universities and to bring relief to their faculties and students.
VOL. XIX, No. 7. MARCH 30, 1922
THE JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
THE METAPHYSICAL STATUS OF SENSATIONS
" When the eye and the appropriate object meet together and give
birth to whiteness and the sensation of white, which could not have
been given by either of them going to any other, then, while the sight
is flowing from the eye, whiteness proceeds from the object which com-
bine* in producing the color; and so the eye is fulfilled with sight, and
sees, and becomes, not sight, but a seeing eye; and the object which
combines in forming the color is fulfilled with whiteness, and becomes
not whiteness but white, whether wood or stone or whatever the object
may be which happens to be colored white. And this is true of all
sensations, hard, warm, and the like, which are similarly to be regarded,
as I was saying before, not as having any absolute existence, but as
being all of them generated by motion in their intercourse with one
another, according to their kinds." (Plato: Thecetetus, pp. 156-157,
Jowett's translation.)
IF one ever needs excuse for quoting Plato, it would do in this case
to plead that the doctrine contained in the passage is brilliant,
thorough, and sound. The history of philosophy, in its meandering
course, has brought forth no improvement upon the statement put
into the mouth of Socrates by his great pupil. One need not agree
with all the positions of Plato in even the dialogue from which the
above passage was taken in order to enter fully into the
proffered analysis of the metaphysical status of sensations. Socrates
is making no pretense of originating a new doctrine : he is expound-
ing that of Protagoras. Indeed he seems to accept as true everything
which Protagoras says about sensation, except that it is knowledge.
This doctrine of sensation, however sound, becomes, when coupled
with the supposition that sensations are cognitive of the world be-
yond, involved in grave difficulties ; and the followers of Protagoras
through the centuries are responsible for all the copy-theories of
sensation which have so led philosophy astray. But in this present
paper there will be no occasion to discuss knowledge; rather the
effort will be made simply to comment upon and compare with less
satisfactory modern analyses that doctrine of the nature of sensa-
tions which Protagoras formulated, Socrates accepted, and Plato so
beautifully put into words. And if the points commented upon
seem trivial and commonplace, the writer might reply that he wishes
they were so well understood and so widely taken for granted that
169
170 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
further restatement would be unnecessary. As so often is the case,
metaphysics is needed only because there is so much bad metaphysics.
Sensation is a natural event which takes place in the world
under certain ascertainable conditions. We have good reason to
believe that objects existed long before they were perceived by even
the first organisms endowed with organs sensitive to stimuli from
those objects ; and we have good reason to believe that a catastrophic
destruction of all organisms would leave those objects in undisturbed
existence. Sensation is an event which happens in its setting, but
does not produce nor control that setting. The setting consists,
for the purposes of analysis, of three significant elements or aspects.
First, there is the object such as a stone, a cloud, a bon-bon, or an
open fire on a wintry day. Secondly, there is the animal organism,
with its end-organs of various sorts, end-organs which might under
different circumstances have become other than they are but happen
to be as they are, end-organs such as the eye, the ear, and the various
special structures in the skin. Thirdly, there is the medium of com-
munication between object and end-organ, the physical contact
and pressure of the stone against the organ of touch, the vibrating
ether between the cloud and the eye, the physical contact and chem-
ical change which ensues when the bon-bon is dissolved upon the
tongue, or the air-waves between the fire and the organ of heat.
We know more about the structure of the end-organs than did
Plato, and also about the mediums by which objects affect the end-
organs. But Socrates did not need to know the details of all the
species of processes involved in sense-experience, in order to formu-
late correctly the definition of the subsuming genus ; and he allows
adequately for the growth of scientific knowledge when he says that
the various kinds of sensations are "generated by motion in their
intercourse with one another according to their kinds." Perhaps
no loss of accuracy in discussing sensations will result if vision is
selected for special treatment; for similar things could be said
about all other kinds of sensations.
The absence of one or more of the three elements of the setting
in which sensations occur will of course make sensations impossible. 1
A dazzling sun may shine with unparalleled splendor for countless
ages; but there will be nothing seen unless the electro-magnetic
vibrations starting out from it chance to strike upon the sensitive
retina of some physiological organism. A strong eye, well con-
i That sensations may arise under other conditions can not of coarse be
dogmatically denied. Yet the only sensations of which we know anything are
generated in the way here discussed; and we have no reason for believing in
any others.
THE METAPHYSICAL STATUS OF SENSATIONS 171
structed in all its parts and properly related to a healthy organism,
may search the uttermost reaches of space ; but there will be nothing
seen unless there is some object within the radius of its range and
some unimpeded physical force to stimulate the eye. In a world
where no interactions took place between the various things of which
that world might be composed, there would be no sensations; and
even in a world where the requisite interactions take place, there
must yet be properly formed end-organs before those influences pro-
duce sensations. If the nature of the object or the nature of the
medium of communication were changed, it might well be that the
end-organ would have to go through compensating changes before
sensations would once more occur; and any change in an end-organ
beyond a very slight one would probably forever put a stop to sensa-
tions through it, unless the other elements of the setting were altered
or those elements chanced to have other activities formerly uncon-
nected with sensation-processes and yet suited thereto in connection
with the altered end-organ.
The part of Plato's doctrine of sensations which is important for
metaphysics and logic remains to be noted. There is no suggestion
in Plato that sensations are a new sort of entity which half conceals
and half discloses the world which the organism faces not that he
specifically denies that such is the case, but that such a consideration
is irrelevant to the subject-matter under examination. The followers
of Protagoras who regarded sensations as knowledge might well be-
come involved in such a distressing problem. But not Plato. For
him sensations are not cognitive, and there is no need of determining
whether the sensation is a "copy" of anything else. A sensation
like an explosion of gunpowder is an event, with natural causes and
effects; but it no more mirrors the conditions of its occurrence than
an explosion mirrors the chemicals and the spark which set those
chemicals off. The sensation-process is a complex process, in which,
by virtue of the total situation established by object, medium, and
end-organ, the object and the end-organ are temporarily of a dif-
ferent nature than before the situation was established. That is, the
eye becomes a seeing eye, and the object becomes a white object.
There would be no objection to calling the white object or the white
alone by such terms as idea, impression, or psychic state, provided
that no improper inferences were drawn from that term. Neither
the white object nor the white is any of those things, however, if by
those terms is meant a, separate and distinct existence. The object
seen is the object which was really there before it was seen, even
though it was not then white and did not stand in the situation in
which it later came to stand. There seems to be no warrant for
172 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
calling objects white unless they are seen; but the white object seen
is the same object which the eye for some reason singles out from
the total environment. As Plato puts it, the eye becomes a seeing
eye and the object becomes a white object; and Plato would cor-
rectly add that no further entity or existence was involved in the
process. The same eye may be the organ of many different sensa-
tions in which the same object is seen in many different shapes and
colors; for the same object seen may be seen by the same eye in
many different positions and under many different conditions. And
since the nature of a sensation depends upon the total situation of
object, medium, and end-organ, the nature of successive sensations
will vary. No sensation "grasps" the whole nature of the object.
But what is seen is real in so far forth under the circumstances, no
matter whether it would be unreal under other circumstances. 2
There is a certain sense in which men stand in the egocentric
predicament, viz., that they can not have sensations of objects with
which they are not brought in contact according to the conditions
of object, medium, and end-organ. But since knowledge is not a
matter of sensations, taken singly or in complexes, there is no ego-
centric predicament about the cognitive experience. Also since in
sensation-processes they come into contact with the natural, the
objective, the real world, there is no egocentric predicament about
the metaphysical status of sensations. The world as sensed is ipso
facto a different world than the world as not sensed, just as the end-
organ in action is different than the end-organ not in action. But
it is important to determine what the difference is from an examina-
tion of what goes on, and not to settle such questions by a definition
of what a metaphysical difference might be. Certainly as we observe
the facts, there is no problem of the existence of an external world.
There may well be problems as to the nature and the qualities of the
seen objects in some of their unseen relationships which are not
directly observed. We may well ask such questions as the following :
2 Lest there be misunderstanding as to the meaning of real in the above
paragraph, it might be noted that the term refers simply to what is " there,"
i.e., to what exists at any moment. No supposition of always and forever en-
during is implied. Becently Mr. C. A. Strong wrote: "If we say that data
are real, we are forced to say that physical things are not real, while, if we say
that physical things are real as I think we must we are forced to conclude
that data, as such, are not real." (Essays in Critical Realism, p. 225.) But the
bewildering dilemma clears up when Mr. Strong explains at the end of his para-
graph, in a phrase which seems to have been added at the last moment to meet
the objections of one of hia co-authors, that real means ' ' continuously existent. ' '
Such usage, if unusual, has ample historical precedent, but b not the meaning
of the word in this paper.
THE METAPHYSICAL STATUS OF SENSATIONS 173
What color would the object be in a mist? What would the object
look like under a microscope? Could we see the object through a
certain intervening substance ? Could we see the object from a cer-
tain distance ? What is the chemical constitution of the object ? At
what rate do the atoms of which it is composed vibrate ? Etc. etc. But
we could not legitimately ask whether there is "really" an object
there ; for it is given as ' ' there. ' ' We could not legitimately ask wheth-
er it is "really" white; for if we know what the question means, we
will know that in one sense it is white and in another sense it is not,
and if the question means neither of these things, there is no such
thing as being "really" white. We never have the task of getting
from the realm of "psychic states" into the world of physical
existences, but simply the task of getting from the world as it is
partially perceived to the world as it is more largely inferred to be. 3
The problem of knowledge is the practical one of how to go from
incomplete information to more complete understanding. That
problem can not be said to involve a dualism, in any of the ordinary
or historic senses of that word; it involves only a dualism between
the less and the more, both of which are contained in the same total
system of reality. We do not infer what things are like on the basis
of "psychic states" or "ideas wholly in the mind"; but we infer
what things are like in their entirety from those of their qualities
and relations which we do directly perceive. Objects do not cease
to be objects in becoming seen any more than they cease to be objects
in becoming eaten. That, I take it, is what Plato meant when he said
that the object "becomes not whiteness but white." At least, whether
Plato meant that or not, it can be said that in vision objects do not
themselves become, and do not produce as a sort of by-product, what
are usually called "psychic states," but become seen objects. And
sensation presents us with no difficulty except that of discovering
from incomplete presentation of the world we confront certain other
s Two statements in the recent Essays in Critical Eealism deserve comment
here. Mr. Strong said: " The world as sense-perception presents it and the
world as it is by no means coincide " (227). In one sense this is quite true;
for the object seen is not at all times and apart from perception exactly what
it is seen to be in vision. But in another sense the statement is false; for the
world as sense-perception presents it is a part of the world as it is, though a
small part. Mr. A. K. Eogers said in the same volume: " The world of science
is distinctly not the world of immediate perception " (151). This is true of
physics and astronomy to a large extent; for those sciences are interested in
certain aspects of the world not presented in sensations. But it is not true of
optics, acoustics, and such sciences. And it is entirely false if it is meant
that there is any metaphysical difference between the world of science and the
world of immediate perception.
174 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
aa yet unobserved and perhaps permanently unobservable items in
which we may happen to be interested. Metaphysics and episte-
mology can not properly be concerned with an alleged hiatus between
two different sorts of existences, but with the distinction between
and the differences in the things as seen and the same things as not
seen, all of which exist in one continuous realm of being. Men come
into limited contact with things through sensations and need to
know lots of facts about their world which can only be discovered
indirectly, on the basis of analogy, of inference, of hypothesis and
experimentation. In other words, in addition to the knowledge which
may be directly derived from such sensations as those of vision, we
must have recourse to such welkguided reasonings as are furnished
to us by such sciences as optics, physics, and chemistry.
II
The view of sensations thus outlined, whether or not it is to be
found in Plato, is a realism or naturalism. But it differs from,
though it has certain sympathies with, two commonly accepted the-
ories, by contrast with which its significance would perhaps be more
obvious. The first of these is behaviorism ; the second is a dualistic
realism represented by the modern tradition which comes from Locke
and Kant, and which has recently been restated, in an effort to mini-
mize the dualism, by the "critical realists." Though no effort will
here be made to review those alternative views of sensation in any
detail, the contrasts may be helpful. 4
The position defended in this paper is in one sense of the word
itself a behaviorism. We do not get sensations by passively waiting
like the wax for the imprint of the seal. We would not call the
images in a mirror sensations (that is, the sensations posseased by
the mirror). An eye, however complete in all its parts, would prob-
ably not see objects, if it were detached from the organism of which
it is an integral part. Unless there is reaction by as well as action
upon the eye, vision does not occur. In other words, the eye must
be the end-organ of some physiological unit of response, since it is
probably safe to affirm that the eye taken by itself could not respond
at all. Sensations, as the term has been used in this paper, are cer-
tain qualities such as blue and red, sweet and sour, hot and cold;
but these qualities appear only in connection with a certain process
A paper to follow this paper will examine the claim of the * ' critical
realists " to have overcome the difficulties of the traditional epistemological
dualism through their new doctrine of the datum as a logical essence. But for
any such examination, a preliminary constructive statement seemed advisable
of the point of view from which criticism would be brought.
THE METAPHYSICAL STATUS OF SENSATIONS 175
which involves object, medium, and end-organ, and the activity of
all those elements is jointly necessary. None of the qualities which
are revealed by the process can be taken to invalidate the process,
to throw doubt upon the reality of the fact that there has been such
a process, to deny the reality of the conditions under which the proc-
ess takes place. The description of the sensation-processes from the
standpoint of the organism is what behaviorism has to tell us about
sensation, and is accepted as valid and convincing by the writer of
this paper.
None the less the standpoint of this paper is opposed to much
contemporary behaviorism. The chief reason why behaviorism has
not been even more widely and unanimously adopted in America
than has been the case, and why the present writer finds it partly
unacceptable, is that behaviorists have often denied the reality
of obvious facts in the interests of the simplicity of their theories.
When behaviorism arose shortly after 1890, largely as the result of
the impetus given to psychological studies by William James, many
philosophers were found describing the mind as a mere series of
the sense-qualities which the processes of sensation bring into exis-
tence. It was quite natural therefore that a reaction from this in-
complete description should take place, and that not simply the mind
should be described in terms of the processes of sensation and the
like, but the very existence of the sense-qualities should be neglected
and in more extreme cases denied. 5 At least, whether natural or not,
such did take place. Preoccupied with an analysis of the actions
of the nervous system, behaviorists had nothing to say about the
qualities which the objects have in sensation. Called to account for
this neglect, they feared that they were being summoned once more
to study merely these qualities; and knowing to their own satisfac-
tion that what they had discovered about the mind could never be
stated in any mere list of such qualities, however complete, they
asserted that the mind was activity, not quality at all. Furthermore,
fearing a renewal of the epistemological futilities of which modern
philosophy has given such frequent instances, they were prompted
to deny the existence of ' ' psychic states ' ' ; and since their adversaries
assured them that the qualities revealed in sensation were "psychic
states, ' ' they denied the very existence of the qualities altogether.
8 Mr. J. B. Watson only harms his own cause by his impossible identifica-
tion of colors or other qualities of an object with a physiological process. E.g.,
he recently quoted Dunlap with approval to the effect that " the so-called
visual image is only an associated eye muscle strain (muscular ' sensation ')."
Cf. The Dial, Vol. LXXII., No. 1, p. 101, Jan., 1922. This is only a new form
of the traditional materialistic fallacy.
176 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
To a certain extent the dispute has been merely verbal. If any
one chooses to call the sense-qualities which appear in the course
of the sensation-processes by the name of mind, there should be
no objection though care would have to be exercised to keep from
various of the traditional errors which have accompanied that termin-
ological practise during the last three centuries. Similarly if any
one chooses to call the activities of the organism in sensation and the
like by the name of mind, again there should be no objection.
Though we can discover no reason why certain qualities should
appear exclusively in connection with certain processes, yet such
seems to be the fact. If either thing were singled out as that in
terms of which alone mind is to be defined, the behaviorist has cli
the better element. For the sense-quality is the quality of the object :
it is neither within the body nor within the confines of a mental
realm distinguished from the physical world. And the error of the
behaviorist is decidedly less disastrous than that of the upholders of
the ' ' psychic states ' ' ; for their error is the enthusiastic one of youth
in overstating a new discovery, and involves no distortion of reality
in so far as their positive, if not their negative, arguments are con-
cerned.
Yet the issue has often gone further than a verbal dispute. The
behaviorists, assured from their own studies that the thing they
called mind was a certain set of activities of the physiological organ-
ism, and assured by a long and important tradition that sense-quali-
ties did not exist outside the mind, had to deny that there were any
sense-qualities at all. Mind for them was not a receptacle: it was
not a place in which anything could be located. Of course their
denial of sense-qualities was an error. But the trap which led them
into the error was their acceptance of the supposition that sense-
qualities are "psychic states." If they erred, it was due to their
trusting the word of those philosophers who, in Humian fashion,
treated the mind as a series of states of consciousness and denied the
objectivity of sense-qualities. They are not to be much reproached
for their error; for the premise which they furnished from their
own experimental work was true, whereas that supplied by their
fellow-philosophers, if true at all, was true only in a limited and
unusual sense of the words. Those who are worried over the material-
istic tendency of behaviorism have only themselves to blame; the
error of behaviorism can be corrected only upon the supposition
of the objectivity of sense-qualities.
The time has come to locate the error of behaviorism more fairly.
The denial of the existence of facts which every man perceives
every day of his life is preposterous. The existence of sense-qualities
THE METAPHYSICAL STATUS OF SENSATIONS 177
does not have to be proved, because it is given as an immediate fact
of experience. Similarly the existence of the activities of the nervous
system does not need to be proved any further than behaviorists
have done. "What we need is to learn what various people mean by
terms such as mind, and then state the well-proved conclusions
in terms the meaning of which may be clear to all. No one probably
would question that object, medium, and end-organ are all essential
to that sort of activity of the physiological organism which we may
then agree to call the process of sensation. Since mind is usually
contrasted with object, we would do better not to call by the name
of mind the sense-quality which the object assumes during and
as a result of the process of sensation; for the sense-quality is a
quality of the object. Avoiding thus the term mind for the mere
existence of sense-qualities, we should recognize none the less their
existence. That sense-qualities are perceived and living processes
are carried on by the same organisms should not blind us to both
sets of facts. The behaviorists have neglected or even denied the
former; their opponents have neglected and nearly always denied
the latter, and then have drawn impossible conclusions from what
they have mistakenly denied as well as from what they have truly
affirmed. It is theoretically possible that some other cause than
the sensation-process might give rise to sense-qualities, in which
case no one surely would wish to speak of a mind as present. But
it is actually the case that there are a number of biological and
physiological processes which seem to go on without any sensations,
any consciousness, any prevision of the future; and yet even in
these processes we feel that we have something akin to what we
mean by mind. Thus, though it is not the purpose of this paper
to define mind, it can at least be said that the term seems to be
best used for those of the living processes which have assumed a
certain quality and a certain form. 6
e A word of warning to the critics of a revised behaviorism may be timely
here. Those who treat the mind as a matter of activity or relationships are
usually called materialists. But that characterization is not always correct. It
would be correct if the relations were altogether spatial, if the activity were
that of gross motion such as waving arms and legs about in space. But usually
the relationships and activity referred to are ideal, they can be described only
in terms of meaning, anticipation of the future, inference, judgment. Mr.
Sellars remarked that knowledge is not " a real relation between the knower and
the known." (Essays in Critical Realism, p. 206.) I have not been able to
puzzle out what he is intending to say. But his words would seem to mean
either that knowledge did not exist or that the only real relations were spatial
and material. I do not wish to be unfair. Yet I can not help but think that
he tends to equate reality and matter, and to be by implication more material-
istic than many behaviorists.
178 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
III
The opponents of behaviorism have almost unanimously treated
sensations as "psychic states" existing in the mind and having no
objective status. In fact this treatment has become so customary
that it is often taken as an incontrovertible axiom which needs no
proof. Each consciousness is then cut off from the rest of the world
by an absolute break. And the world of nature, the objective world,
is not known directly. 7
The proofs for the subjectivity of sensations are mostly indirect,
i.e., they consist in showing that sensations could not be objective.
There are three such proofs which have frequently been offered from
Locke to the "critical realists," and there is an implicit principle
or metaphysical axiom usually assumed. These must be reviewed
before the thesis of this paper can be taken as acceptable.
The arguments can be briefly summed up: (1) that different
people looking at the same object have different sensations, and the
sensations are therefore not really in the object but only imagina-
tively projected there; (2) that objects seem to have contradictory
qualities and hence the qualities must be, not in the object, but in
the mind; (3) that the qualities we discover are different from what
we know on other grounds to be the nature of the objects and hence
can not be in the objects at all. 8 Now all these arguments are
good as a refutation of "naive realism" which supposes objects to
be at all times just what they are seen at any one moment to be
though it may be doubted if the most naive man-in-the-street ever
held such a position. But none of them militates against the argu-
ment for the objectivity of sensations as set forth in this paper.
(1) Different people looking at the same object of course have dif-
ferent sensations, which proves that the sense-quality is not in the
object taken alone and absolutely, but which does not prove that
the object may not have the various different qualities relatively
to the different situations in which it stands to different organisms.
Relativity is not subjectivity; and in these days of relativity, when
even physicists talk in such terms, the old thoughtless identification
of the relative and the subjective requires revision. If sensations
are relative to medium and end-organ as well as to object, the con-
7 E.g., in Essays in Critical Eed'ism, it is said that psychology deals with
" subjective data " (31), that the sphere of the psychologist is " the psychical
aa such " (208), that a sensation, apart from its reference, is but " a pure
state of our sensibility " (234), that " perception is not direct " (103), etc.
Cf. also pp. 11, 28, 164, 192, 197, 217, et passim.
For the most recent statement of these arguments in compact form, con-
sult Essays in Critical Eealism, pp. 8, 15, 133, 224, 226, etc.
THE METAPHYSICAL STATUS OF SENSATIONS 179
ditions of observation would assist in determining what quality
would be seen. Under identically the same circumstances the object
has identically the same quality. (2) The contradictory qualities,
being also a matter of diverse points of view, signify nothing in
the way of subjectivity. For the contradictory qualities are not
in the object taken alone. The trouble here seems to arise from
considering qualities as distinct and separate entities, like a lot
of marbles which small boys carry around in their pockets. The
sense-qualities of objects are relative to the point of view. And
unless it is contradictory to suppose that there is more than one
point of view in the universe, it is hard to see why it is contradic-
tory to suppose an object to have successively to the same organism
or simultaneously to different organisms a number of different quali-
ties. (3) The fact referred to in the third argument is not a
point against the theory of this paper, but part of the position
defended. But the inference from that fact betrays a non sequitur.
Because an object does not have eternally and unchangeably a cer-
tain quality observed in sensation, is no reason why it may not have
that quality in case of being related in a certain way to a certain
perceiving organism. It is a long jump from the discovery that
the qualities observed in sensation are not the qualities which the
object has apart from sensation, to the conclusion that the qualities
are not qualities of the object at all but "psychic states" in the
mind. Before such a conclusion could be defended, one would have
to find such a "mind" as could contain qualities, which kind of a
"mind" is not revealed by experience; and even then, one would
need some experimental evidence for the location of qualities there
instead of somewhere else. No one has ever successfully essayed
this task. Rather such a supposition is defined as an axiom and
accepted as authentic before experience is examined, and experience
is then made to fit into this scheme at any cost.
In addition to these arguments which are restated in various
forms, there is an alleged metaphysical principle which is supposed
to prove the subjectivity of sensations. Instead of going to expe-
rience to find out whether we can really see and touch objects, the
advocates of subjectivism adduce an a priori proof against such
direct contact between observer and object. 9 Mind and matter are
so regarded that contact between them is deemed impossible.
9 E.g., Mr. E. W. Sellars said that the claim to have the object immediately
present is " impossible," and his reason is that " it would involve the leaping
of spatial and temporal barriers in an unnatural fashion " (Essays in Critical
Eealism, p. 200). The quite sufficient answer to Mr. Sellars and all the other
critical realists who reject the contact of observer with object is contained in
the wise words of Mr. Santayana in their own volume: " The standard of
naturalness is nature itself " (p. 167).
180 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
The trouble here seems to be with the conception of cause. The
assumption seems to have been made that one thing can not cause
another thing unless we can mulct-stand how the act of causation
takes place. But causation, however natural a matter, is not a
logical procedure. A person who looked at the greenish-yellow
gas called chlorin with its disagreeable odor and poisonous effect
upon the lungs and then looked at the whitish metal called sodium
which discolors so quickly as it oxidizes when exposed to the air,
might never suspect that those two substances, combined in certain
proportions, would give another substance indispensable to living
organisms and delicious for the seasoning of food. We can dis-
cover certain facts which we can not account for; yet metaphysics
should not be regarded as a process of accounting for the universe
but as a statement in general terms of what the universe happens
to be. Similarly we may be unable to explain why certain kinds of
matter, organized in a certain way, make living beings and end-
organs and nervous systems; and we may be unable to explain
why under certain circumstances these living beings can perceive ob-
jects. We are entitled to seek explanation of these facts in the sense
that we may search for the detailed analysis of the processes involved,
but not in the sense that we may formulate a principle which will
account for things being as they are instead of otherwise. However
unrelated to logical processes they may be, natural processes are
none the less real, i.e., take place ; they do not wait for the logician
to justify their occurrence. Causation is not anything to be ex-
plained en masse, but to be accepted and to be used as an explanation
of what happens to and around us. Nature is more resourceful
than the mind of a rationalist. Antecedent intelligibility is not a
measure of natural possibility. What is, is possible. If we do
perceive objects, then we can. Metaphysicians should start with na-
ture, not with axioms ; and their principles should be generalizations
from the facts, not regulations by which they, like traffic police-
men for the universe, endeavor to determine the directions in which
things must go.
Doubtless many advocates of the existence of "psychic states"
would reject the false metaphysical axiom discussed in the preced-
ing paragraph. But if they carry out that rejection and eliminate
its implications from all their theories, what antecedent likelihood
is there that objects have not "really" the qualities which they
are found in experience to have, and that we do not, in spite of
every indication, "really" come into immediate contact with ob-
jects? Thus the way is opened for a return to a naturalism which
takes the universe at face-value, gives credit to whatever it finds
TRUTH AS CORRESPONDENCE 181
and seeks for as much more as it can discover, and recognizes the
setting in which living, perceiving, and thinking go on. Naturalism
in this sense is far from materialism ; 10 for it regards the material
world as the "natural basis" which finds its "ideal fulfilment" in
the achievement of the goods which the structure of reality makes
possible. 11 And thus from the slime of the sea-bed may arise beings
who sing songs, build cathedrals, erect shrines to the saints, and
dream of the kingdom of God. But the full meaning of naturalism
is too much to attempt to define in a closing paragraph. It is per-
haps enough if something has been said to reinforce Plato's con-
tention that in vision the eye becomes a seeing eye, and the object
becomes a white object.
STERLING P. LAMPRECHT.
UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS.
TRUTH AS CORRESPONDENCE : A RE-DEFINITION
FTlHE purpose of this article is. to show that by an accurate ob-
-L jective definition of the concepts involved it is possible to
define truth in terms of correspondence, and at the same time avoid
the well-known dialectical difficulties of the theory of error. Many
attempts along this line have been made, but they have proved
abortive. The advocates of what Joachim calls the coherence theory
have found them altogether too easy to puncture. Granting that
a true statement is one that corresponds with facts, they say, how
are we to deal with false statements'? We can not claim that they
correspond to nothing at all, for this would imply that they were
meaningless, which is not the case. And we can not say that they
correspond with the wrong facts, for how can we determine their
legitimate reference? In spite of the seeming finality of such ob-
jections, the correspondence theory of truth still survives. And
it survives because of its obvious scientific common sense. But to
a really striking degree epistemology has failed to put it on a
sound logical basis. Propositions, assumptions, and other strange
and doubtful entities have been invented to mediate between judg-
ment and reality, and they are all conspicuously futile.
The correct solution is not by means of any of these ingenuities.
It is found by taking an objective point of view in regard to the
knowledge situation, and the factors entering into it. Our funda-
10 The word naturalism has not in this paper at all the same meaning as,
for example, in Professor Perry's Present Philosophical Tendencies.
11 These phrases are borrowed from Santayana's Life of Reason.
182 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
mental a&sumption is that knowledge is a function of reality. And
our problem is so to define this relationship as to avoid the diffi-
culties so often pointed cut in connection with other correspond-
ence theories of truth.
To begin with a study of the terms of the relation, what are we
to understand by knowledge! Objectively considered, we may take
knowledge to consist of speech-reactions. That is to say, it is a
particular type of behavior. At first sight this may appear very
paradoxical, but only because philosophy has paid little attention to
the point. For it is by no means repugnant to the common sense
of man. Humanity has inevitably perceived the necessity of in-
venting adequate means for keeping permanent records of speech-
reactions. A page of writing is just as much a record of reactions
as is the tracery on the smoked cylinder by which the subject of a
psychological experiment shows his responses to the flashing of
lights, the tones of bells or other stimuli. But the writing is an
exceedingly complex and ingenious record of highly complex re-
sponses, whereas the tracery on the smoked surface is a relatively
simple, two-dimensional affair. Thus the type of behavior known
as language has evidently been given very great weight by the
common consent of man, and the difficulty of regarding knowledge
as language is sensibly diminished.
There are, however, two objections, one systematic, the other
psychological, that must be met before we can proceed. In the
first place it may be said that we are defining knowledge in terms
of something that is not knowledge, and that this involves a re-
flexive fallacy. For if we say that all knowledge is speech, it may
seem that we are making one of those assertions about all proposi-
tions that are forbidden by the Theory of Types. But this is not
a case of defining one entity in terms of another. We do not have
knowledge on the one hand and speech on the other. From the
objective point of view we have nothing but speech. The whole
material of logic itself is nothing but speech-reactions.
But, in the second place, it may be said that we are arguing far
in advance of the known facts. It is by no manner of means
established that all cognitive processes are essentially language-
processes. This is true enough, but there is no lack of negative
evidence in support of our contention. Within recent years ex-
tensive attempts have been made both in this country and in Europe
to demonstrate the existence of so-called imageless thought. The
fate of this research is quite instructive. In laboratories of marked
sensationalist tendency, imageless thought was never discovered,
while in laboratories of an anti-sensationalist turn, it was. Such
TRUTH AS CORRESPONDENCE 183
an outcome can hardly fail to cast serious reflections on the whole
method of introspective psychology. And specifically, it is relev-
ant to our present discussion in that it suggests the impossibility
of dealing with cognition in terms of impressions. Knowledge
would seem to be an affair of reactions. And the only kind of
behavior that can well be regarded as knowledge is speech. Of
course when we come to the positive side of the question, and try
to show that in every case of cognition a speech reaction is present,
the difficulties are immense. Oftentimes the responses will be ex-
ceedingly subtle. There will be no evident motions of the vocal
organs or the hands. There will perhaps be not even any palpable
muscular innervations. The only changes may be in the cortex,
where we have at present no means of observing them. But the
decided weight of argument seems to be on the side of the supposi-
tion that from the objective point of view, cognition appears as
language.
But must we not admit that types of behavior other than speech
are cognitive in function such for instance as pointing or draw-
ing geometrical figures? When I reply to the question, "Where
is the book?" by pointing, is this response not essentially knowl-
edge from the objective point of view? Hardly, for it would seem
very much more in accord with the probable psychological facts
to suppose that the cognitive part of the proceeding would be
found in some such suppressed, implicit speech-reaction as: "The
book is where I am pointing." Again, it has been proposed that
we try to communicate with hypothetical rational inhabitants of
Mars by means of a figure of the Theorem of Pythagoras done
large in canals on the Sahara desert. Would not the behaviors
involved in planning and executing such a figure be essentially
cognitive? Not so, for the essential meaning, the knowledge con-
veyed by such a figure, both to ourselves and to the Martians,
would consist in the speech-reactions of which it would be the
stimulus.
An apparently serious difficulty in regarding knowledge as
consisting of speech reactions is found in the phenomena of quali-
tative perception. When I look at a red object, and see before
me a patch of red, there seems to be something very direct and
immediate in the situation. I seem to have what Bertrand Rus-
sell calls "knowledge by acquaintance." In such respects it ap-
pears, prima facie, that cognition is a matter of impression rather
than reaction. But what actually happens? An ethereal vibration
of a certain frequency impinges upon the retina, and presumably,
a certain kind of stimulus travels up over the optic nerve. Does
184 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
this constitute knowledge? It is difficult to say that it does. So
far, it would appear, we have nothing at all but various metabolic
changes. Of course the inner secret soul or consciousness of the
subject may register something. But the outside observer knows
nothing of all this. Still less does he know that the impression is
one of redness. Indeed the very members of the subject himself
are not aware of it at this stage. If we insist on stopping here,
the whole business becomes a little secret between his cortex and
his soul. Indeed, it is only when the stimulus goes across into
response that it becomes anything at all. If the subject is a bull,
and charges, we say that he is infuriated. If he is a man, and says
"That is red" we say that he has knowledge. Even in the experi-
mental psychology of sensation, where we might expect to find
pure impressions if they exist anywhere, all the data are in the
form of speech-reactions, the reports of the subjects.
Knowledge then, as a set of propositions or judgments, is some-
thing that possesses physical reality. It has a position in space
and a duration in time. Certainly the mere geometrical relations
of a piece of knowledge, a speech-reaction, are not of the first im-
portance. Its structural correlations with the responding organism
are the truly significant considerations. It is these which science
must analyze. But to point out that a judgment has the same kind
of ponderable reality as a chair is far from being a waste of time.
It instantly banishes many of those vague and mystifying difficul-
ties which have led epistemology into endless and futile dialectical
mazes, and goes far towards clearing up the whole discussion as to
the nature of truth.
This brings to our attention the second element in the cognitive
situation, the object of knowledge. And here it would seem that
we must inevitably take up the position which Bosanquet and the
idealists have called "naive realism." The object of knowledge will
be the thing of physics, the thing, that is to say, which by possess-
ing mass, momentum and so forth satisfies the requirements of,
and is intelligible to physical science.
Bertrand Russell has several times discussed the relation of the
things of physics to consciousness. In general, ignoring minor
differences, his theory is that physical objects may be regarded as
aggregations of sense-data. In this respect, of course, he is simply
making a refinement upon the position of Hume. It is notable
that this point of view admittedly culminates in solipsism, which of
itself would be enough to suggest that it must be based on some
radical error. For philosophers have almost always felt that solip-
sism is in the nature of a reductio ad absurdum, even when they
have not seen their way clear to avoiding it.
TRUTH AS CORRESPONDENCE 185
The fundamental objection to defining physical things in terms
of sense-data is that the existence of sense-data themselves is very
doubtful. Of course it is allowed that sense-data are not found in
a pure or uncombined condition, which, though it certainly raises
serious difficulties, may not be fatal to Russell's theory. But this
is by no means all. A thoroughgoing objective psychology denies
that the patch of color of a given shape and size which is a constitu-
ent of the aggregate of data which makes up the thing according
to Russell, is anything at all in and of itself. Unless the stimulus
issues in response, unless it affects the behavior of the organism
in some definite manner, we have no reason to believe that it exists
as a stimulus at all. It is with responses that we are always con-
cerned. Thus it is impossible to admit of sense-data as ultimate
notions for epistemology. And the paradoxical issue of the at-
tempt to reconstruct the things of physics as groupings of sense-
data, the fact that it directly involves such a position as solipsism,
is due to employing fictions as ultimates.
It would be very much better to regard the things of physics
as classes of reactions. Indeed it might be suggested that this was
the way out if the notion of sense-data proved untenable. But
this would at once wreck the geometrical scheme by which Russell
constructs the world of physics out of appearances. If we admit
sense-data as he understands them, it is possible to suppose a rela-
tion of congruence between them. And in terms of this, and one
or two other concepts, such as larger and smaller, and shielding, it
is not difficult to derive direction and line. This done, we define
a thing as the class of all lines (which themselves are classes of
sense-data) which converge at a given locus. But with responses
the case is altogether different. It is out of the question to set
up such relations and to derive such a scheme in this case. There
is a sense in which the thing might be regarded as the class of all
responses in regard to it. But inasmuch as all such responses are
occasioned by stimuli, we can never escape from duality. The
conception of a class of responses may conceivably have a value,
but the principle of Occam's razor can never get rid of entities
called things, which are the causes of the stimuli issuing in these
responses.
Thus it would seem that the adoption of an objective point of
view not only results in giving up knowledge by acquaintance, but
also commits us to a naive realism in regard to the objects of knowl-
edge. For those objects appear merely as the things of physics.
Beyond this point analysis can not be pushed.
But it will be said that this completely ignores so-called ab-
stract knowledge, which purports to deal not with ponderable in-
186 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
dividual things, but with universals. Univereals, however, can
always be regarded as classes of things. And Russell's theory of
incomplete symbols shows that the class concepts are nothing but
symbolic conveniences. In other words, we deal with universals
by means of nominalism. Millenniums of adjustment have so re-
fined human speech-reactions, that it is possible for us to use the
convenience known as abstract thought.
The result of our discussion so far is that in the cognitive
situation we have a relation set up between two classes of physical
objects. On the one hand we have the specific object known as a
speech-reaction; on the other, anything else, to which the speech-
reaction somehow refers. Philosophy has usually dealt with the
cognitive situation by revising its conception of the object of
knowledge. The tendency has been towards a monism in favor of
knowledge as something at any rate non-physical. The idealist
has tried to show that the understanding makes nature. The
empiricist has tried to show that nature may be regarded as made
up of sense impressions. Common to both is the attempt to show
that nature participates in the very essence of consciousness. Our
own position here is the precise converse of this. It is a monism
in favor of physical reality. It claims that knowledge itself is
part of nature, that it is a specific phenomenon among phenomena.
When we regard knowledge as a set of speech-reactions, the mysteri-
ous gap between mind and matter is evidently closed. It is true
that there is still a duality between knowledge and the things
known. But the crux of truth problem becomes the analysis
of the relations between two physical things, between speech-reac-
tions, and the things to which they refer.
Coming then to a study of the relation of knowledge to its ob-
ject, it will be well to remind ourselves of the central difficulty
with which our account must cope if it is to be successful. The
discussion of correspondence theories of truth has definitely shown
that their great weakness lies in their inability to explain how a
particular piece of knowledge, a particular proposition, as it were,
selects the particular fact in terms of which its truth value is to
be determined. It has been claimed that apart from some such
notion as the intention or internal meaning of a proposition, it is
impossible to understand error. For if error is failure to cor-
respond with something, we need some intention whose frustration
shall constitute failure.
How then is every judgment uniquely related to the specific
fact for which it stands? Let us begin with what have been called
judgments of perception. Redefining this notion in our own terms,
TRUTH AS CORRESPONDENCE 187
such judgments are those where the stimulus of the speech-reac-
tion is that to which the judgment has reference. I see a colored
patch, and respond by saying "that is red." I see my desk light
burning, and the muscles of my vocal organs are innervated to
make the assertion "the light is burning." In such cases the rela-
tion between the judgment and its object seems sufficiently clear.
It is the relation of response to stimulus. The object is the cause
of the judgment, the causal nexus taking an intricate path through
the nervous ganglia. So far everything is simple enough. But
as soon as we pass from judgments of this type we find a much more
complex situation. Let us take two examples.
Suppose a friend of mine has assured me that he turned out
my desk light. Then, when I enter the room and find it burning,
my reaction may take the form of asserting "he's a liar." The
stimulus comes in over a different cortical set, and issues in a dif-
ferent response. Or again, take the judgment "Julius Caesar
crossed the Rubicon." Here the stimulus will probably be letters
on a printed page. In both instances the immediate stimulus is in
a sense irrelevant. How then is the judgment related to its object?
The general principle of explanation in both cases is the same.
When I see the light burning and react with an assertion about
my friend, the total stimulus is not merely the impact of the
ethereal vibrations upon my retina. It is this impact and in addi-
tion the words of my friend. And my neural set is such that I
react with regard to the latter but not the former. And when I
assert that Caesar crossed the Rubicon, I am reproducing the origi-
nal reaction made by observers two thousand years ago, who saw
him splash through the stream and found in the sight a stimulus
to the response, "He has crossed the Rubicon!" The situation is
that of the psychological investigator who tabulates the results of
experiments he has never personally made. He is dealing with re-
sponses whose stimuli have never gone across his own nervous
system. But the whole significance of these responses is their rela-
tion to just these stimuli.
As has been pointed out, this is nothing but a very general ex-
planation. But to demand very much more would not be reason-
able. Little is known as yet of the means by which the nervous
system makes selections from and performs integrations upon the
vast number of stimuli which come in all the time. But psychology
and neurology are decidedly justified in assuming that this enor-
mously complex mechanism performs the task somehow. This as-
sumption is the only hope of any sort of scientific explanation of
our mental life, and it provides an excellent programme for re-
search. It is the best we have. Without it we are reduced to sheer
JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
miracle. And for philosophy the advantage of dealing with the
relation between knowledge and its objects along this line is that
it keeps us in touch with the best scientific developments, and at
least gives us the assurance that we are dealing with facts rather
than fiction, even though our detailed knowledge of those facts
may be very partial.
Thus to sum up, every judgment is uniquely related to its ob-
ject by virtue of the fact that it is a response to which the object
in question has been or is the stimulus. A judgment may not be
immediately occasioned by the presence of the object to which it
refers for instance it may be occasioned by a printed record.
This is due to the organization of our neural mechanism, which
enables us to effect vast economies in living. But always we can
push back to an ultimate stopping place where the stimulus and
the speech-reaction are brought together in time and space.
This analysis makes it possible for us to define truth in terms
of correspondence, and at the same time to give an account of error.
Fundamental to this account is the notion of a normally function-
ing nervous system.
For a judgment is true when it is the response of a normal
organism to a given stimulus. Suppose I say "Napoleon's tomb
is in Paris." Let us assume that 1 have read these words some-
where. Pushing back along the chain of recorded responses of
which the printed symbols that I saw were the last, I come finally
to the place where the original observer, who started the whole
series, stood. I am directed to a particular locus, and there I re-
ceive a stimulus that issues in the response, "Yes, Napoleon's tomb
is in Paris." And this it is which constitutes the truth of the
judgment. But suppose I read "Napoleon's tomb is in Berlin."
Then I am directed to another locus, where I receive another stimu-
lus, which issues in the response "No, Napoleon's tomb is not in
Berlin." This means that the original judgment was false. The
chain of recorded responses always directs us to some specific locus.
This is the function of what has sometimes been called the inten-
tion or "internal meaning" of the judgment. And the notion of
internal meaning has been used to wreck the whole correspondence
theory. In and of itself, the notion seems to be quite inadmissable.
The supposition that every judgment has ultimately two kinds of
meaning is one to be avoided if at all possible. Such difficulties
as these, and their accompanying dialectical objections to the cor-
respondence theory of truth vanish as soon as we bring to light a
mechanism which secures correlation between judgments and their
objects.
THE COMPLEX DILEMMA A REJOINDER 189
It is impossible to arrive at a satisfactory account of the objec-
tive reference of judgments so long as we consider nothing but the
judgments themselves. In and of themselves they are merely physi-
cal facts. They are no more and no less mysterious than so many
chairs and tables. They are simply complexes of nervous discharge
and muscular tension and relaxation. If we desire to understand
their epistemological function, we must not consider them alone.
To do so is to commit a fatal abstraction. We must take into con-
sideration the entire structure in which they occur the organic
structure stimulated by contacts with objects outside itself, and
responding to these contacts in a thousand various ways, some of
which make up what we call knowledge.
In closing, it may be well to say a word as to the bearing of
this point of view upon epistemology as a whole. Bertrand Rus-
sell is responsible for introducing into philosophy a technique which
in a measure deserves to be called scientific. By applying the
notions and methods of symbolic logic it is undeniably possible to
get a very sharp definition of certain issues, and consequently to
arrive at definite solutions of detailed problems. But the differ-
ence between modern science and philosophy is something more
than a mere matter of technique. It is a difference in point of
view. Science is objective, and philosophy, in large measure, is
subjective. Russell's own distinction between knowledge by ac-
quaintance and knowledge by description is essentially subjective.
Philosophy can not become truly scientific till it becomes objective
through and through. And a most important step in this direction
is to adopt an objective point of view in studying the knowledge-
situation.
JAMES L. MURSELL.
PAINESVILLE, OHIO.
THE COMPLEX DILEMMA A REJOINDER
I REGRET that absence from the country has prevented my giv-
ing earlier attention to Professor Brogan's criticism 1 of my
article on the complex dilemma, 2 since it contains a serious misrepre-
sentation.
The "exact meaning" of my criticism of the dilemma is said to
be contained in the following dilemma: "If the minor and the con-
clusion are exclusive alternatives, the argument is fallacious ; and if
the minor is exclusive and the conclusion is non-exclusive then the
argument is redundant. But either the minor and the conclusion
1 This JOURNAL, Vol. XVIII, pp. 566-7.
2 Ibid., pp. 244-6.
190 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
are exclusive, or the minor is exclusive and the conclusion is nou
exclusive. Therefore the argument is fallacious or redundant."
And Professor Brogan adds: "It is perfectly obvious that the minor
premise here is false, because it overlooks the possibility that both
the minor and the conclusion may be treated as being formally non-
exclusive alternatives. If this treatment is given, the complex
dilemma is neither fallacious nor redundant."
The reader who cares to refer to my article will see that these
remarks are wholly misapplied. So far is it from being true that I
did not consider the last-mentioned possibility, that I showed ex-
plicitly that in that case the argument reduces to a familiar form of
sorites. When Professor Brogan concludes that "the non-exclusive
interpretation of disjunction is required for the complex dilemma,"
he is merely restating my own contention.
There is one point in the criticism which is well taken. The
example of a complex destructive dilemma, which I quoted from
Whately and Jevons, was badly chosen for my purpose. As under-
stood by Whately it was merely redundant, and as interpreted by
Jevons it was entirely correct. It is not quite accurate, however,
to say of Whately that, like Jevons, he "carefully and explicitly
defended the non-exclusive interpretation of 'or'." Whately held
that in most cases the exclusive interpretation is called for, but that
sometimes (depending on the context) the alternatives are to be
taken as non-exclusive. Accordingly, in his account of the dilemma
two types appear. On the one hand, it is explicitly recognized that
the minor is sometimes not a strict disjunction; and on the other
hand, in the construction of various examples, care is evidently taken
to make the minor a strict disjunction. This is the case with the
example which I quoted. It is also the case with the following.
"Either they [the blest in heaven] will have no desires, or have them
fully gratified." "He [JSschines] either joined [in the public re-
joicings], or not." Furthermore, there is no suggestion in Whately 's
account that where the minor is thus clearly intended as a strict dis-
junction, the conclusion requires a different interpretation.*
This point is historically of some importance, because it is tc
Whately that the theory of the dilemma in its present form is directlj
due ; and it is probably to the imperfect clearness of his account that
the current misunderstanding of the topic is to be traced. 4
THEODORE DE LAGUNA.
BRYN MAWR COLLEGE.
Elements of Logic, London, 1848, pp. 108-110.
Thus Bain, who draws upon Whately, interprets the disjunction strictly,
without suspecting that he has modified his borrowings in any way. Cf. Logic,
London, 1910, Vol. I, pp. 119, 121.
BOOK REVIEWS 191
BOOK REVIEWS
The Reign of Relativity. Viscount HALDANE. London : John Mur-
ray. 1921. Pp. xxiii + 430.
Lord Haldane's volume is a clear and timely presentation of the
general standpoint of objective idealism in the light of the science
and culture of today; it falls readily within the comprehension of
all seriously interested in philosophy, but without any sacrifice of
essentials or evasion of difficulties. It is unfortunate that the mean-
ing of relativity, like that of idealism itself, has become quite apart
from the scientific theory extremely vague and confused. Hal-
dane's own use of the term is best described as the explication of the
principle of "degrees of reality." "The distinction between ap-
pearance and reality becomes one of degrees towards full compre-
hension. Conceptions mould the experience in which they are ap-
plied. Through our conceptions we isolate, but we isolate only
special aspects of reality. ' ' These aspects, that is, never represent so
many "separately existing and independent realities"; 1 but sepa-
rateness is repudiated not in any subjective fashion, but with refer-
ence to experience and to reality as a whole. 2
It is especially noteworthy, in view of recent discussion, that
this initial position is conjoined with an unambiguous realism; for
realism can find its fullest development, I think, only in an alliance
with an idealism as truly objective as itself. 3 The question is
obviously too wide for consideration here; but Haldane's position
is perfectly definite. "What is before us is there, and is independent
of the particular onlookers who are present along with it." Thus
subjectivism is excluded; and with it goes all false abstraction;
for "it is discoverable for us only by means of observation and
experiment, and not by a priori reasoning. . . . The conception of
an electron may or may not be final, but it indicates what is recognized
as a real complex of actual objective factors." 4 On these points
Lord Haldane, to a marked degree, endorses Dr. Whitehead's con-
tentions in his Concept of Nature. 5 But this agreement is qualified
by the criticism that Dr. Whitehead's final conclusion is, from the
strictly philosophic point of view, too absolute, inasmuch as he " can
hardly claim to iave excluded nature from the imputation of the in-
i Pp. 36, 35.
2<< It is a relativity that is not subjective, in the sense that things are
only to each of us what they appear to be " (p. 37).
3 ' ' The difference between idealism and realism disappears in the larger
outlook that embraces the difference itself " (p. 137).
* Pp. 36, 47. Cf. p. 211 ' ' The world is actual and independent of its
observer. ..."
s Cf. this JOURNAL, Vol. XIX, No. 6, pp. 146-157.
192 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
gression of mind into its constitution" (p. 81). I think, however,
that the difference here is cutin-ly one of standpoint ; Dr. Whitehead,
"abjuring metaphysics," as the scientist is entitled (if not indeed
compelled) to do, regards natural phenomena as, primd facie, outside
or beyond the observer's mind; but this in itself does not imply any
discontinuity between mind and nature as interpreted by the more
inclusive philosophical standard.
From this basis Haldane develops his doctrine of relativity in
the sense that, universally, "Knowledge is foundations! of reality,"
so that ' ' we must take account of all the degrees and levels at which
it appears and interpret them according to their places in the en-
tirely. . . . Knowledge is foundational of both apprehension and
what is apprehended. " 6 At the first glance this seems to confirm the
too general impression that idealism is essentially logical and ab-
stract a matter of intellect or of discursive thought. But it is an
outstanding merit of this volume that such an erroneous interpreta-
tion of idealism is emphatically disclaimed. "Knowledge" has the
fullest possible significance. It is equivalent to mind, or to ex-
perience, as one continuous, immanent, and infinitely diversified
whole. It is "ultimately one and indivisible. . . . Mind, in the
fullest meaning, is foundational to reality. . . . We have to inter-
pret knowledge in no narrow sense. It will have to extend not only
to notions but to feelings." Experience consists in short of "the
dynamic activity of mind . . . dynamic and not static, and is in its
real nature subject yet more distinctly than substance." 7
The principle of relativity, thus interpreted, is classical. But
Haldane gives it a thoroughly independent and individual considera-
tion in its bearing upon science and religion, society and art, which
should do much to clear away the distortions and misunderstandings
which inevitably gather around every great historic system. Both
the exponents of idealism and its more recent opponents are sub-
jected to vigorous and effective criticism, which may be summarized
in the contention that, alike in the case of Bosanquet, Pringle-Pat-
tison and the New-Realists, the full implications of the finitude of
knowledge are not realized and developed ; but this more controver-
sial feature of the volume is best left to the consideration of the
writers concerned.
The lengthy section dealing with the recent development of the
purely scientific theory of relativity is naturally of special interest.
The outline of the theory itself is as free from technicality as Is
possible in dealing with a subject so abstract, and should be helpful
Pp. 124, 137.
' Pp. 126, 128, 147, 155, 166.
BOOK REVIEWS 193
to those who still find it as a whole obscure. But when we turn
from exposition to interpretation it seems to me that Haldane, though
to a far less degree than previous writers, tends to read too much
into the theory in both its scientific and philosophic aspects. Its
strictly scientific importance is so fundamental that some degree
of overstatement for which, however, its originators are not them-
selves responsible was inevitable, and here a reaction is to be ex-
pected. Haldane 's objectivist standpoint safeguards him from the
tendency to argue that scientific relativity implies philosophic sub-
jectivity; "there is not one system of space-time in contrast with
which others are subjective" (p. 402) ; and he employs Einstein's
results merely by way of illustrating his general principle (p. 39).
But still he appears to me to err almost as seriously in another direc-
tion, inasmuch as he omits to distinguish definitely enough between
space and time, as such, and spatio-temporal measurement systems, 8
and therefore fails to recognize sufficiently that in passing from the
latter, with which the scientific theory is concerned, to the former,
which are the main objects of philosophical speculation, we are
dealing with vitally different aspects of the real whole. The con-
sequence is that he falls here into the error against which he con-
stantly warns us "the blunder of confusing our categories" (p. 37) ;
and similarly he interprets the purely scientific conclusions too liter-
ally, without due allowance for what may, from the analogy with
Kant's general method, be called the als o~b element in the entire
theory. Its principles, that is, are very largely methodological ; they
are adopted, and they are valid, only for certain abstract purposes of
mathematical calculation and physical theory, so that (at least as
matters stand at present) it is illegitimate to regard them as true
apart from certain fundamental qualifications necessary when a
wider range of phenomena is considered. This applies, e.g., to the
treatment of gravitation on p. 57.
Another somewhat perplexing feature of Haldane 's position is
his emphasis on the discontinuity of our categories. A consistent
relativism demands, I think, an ideal continuity; and much, if not
indeed all, of the value of Einstein's methods lies in the fuller
continuity which they import into physical theory. Continuity is
indeed clearly recognized. The result of the development of knowl-
edge "has been accomplishing itself continuously" (p. 417), although
the categories which we actually employ are as a matter of fact
8 This fundamental distinction, curiously enough, receives due emphasis from
the scientists themselves. Cf. this JOURNAL, XVIII., pp. 214, 215. Also Ed-
dington, Nature, Feb. 17, 1921, p. 804: " Worldwide time is a mathematical
system; it has not any metaphysical significance."
194 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
seriously lacking in interconnection. But idealist logic would, I
think, regard this defect as due merely to our limited knowledge.
Haldane, however, seems to regard discontinuity not only as oc-
casional and transitory, but even as essential. He speaks of "levels
or degrees in knowledge which have relations to each other, but
are not reducible to each other. For they are ultimate. . . . The ac-
tual exhibits itself in orders irreducible to each other. ... A living
being that knows seems to belong to an order quite different in kind
from that of one that lives without knowing. . . . Mechanism and
life belong to different orders neither of which is explicable in the
terms that belong to the other." 9 If this is literally true any con-
tinuous and progressive development of knowledge would surely
be impossible; but when we consider its actual character, what we
seem to find is an unceasing growth in continuity which goes on, in
principle, without limit ; 10 unless of course we define our categories
to begin with so that they become mutually exclusive, and ' ' mechan-
ism," e.g., means "non-living" while "life" means "non-mechani-
cal." Haldane bases his idealistic relativity on "The Hegelian
Principle" (chap. XV) ; and I welcome his plea for the closer study
of Hegel, together with his protest against the prevailing miscon-
ception of his system. "No philosophical doctrine has been more
misrepresented or given to the world in a more distorted form than
has been Hegelianism in current literature" (p. 344). But the
basal principle of Hegel's Logic is the continuity of the transition
from category to category ; " so that if we are to take the state-
ments just quoted as really typical, there seems to be a fundamental
discrepancy between Haldane 's position and that of Hegel; the
latter, however, appears to be more firmly established by each ad-
vance in the content of knowledge.
But there is ample room for differences of opinion here, and
Lord Haldane would be the last to expect complete unanimity. His
volume, taken as -a whole, is a very valuable and weighty contribu-
tion to philosophical literature.
J. E. TURNER.
LIVERPOOL, ENO.
Pp. 128, 132, 147, 161.
10 Cf. p. 415. ' ' The capacity of man to interpret is unlimited in its range,
because the range of mind is unlimited in its power of framing general con-
ceptions." But does not this in itself imply that categories are not (in prin-
ciple of course) ultimately irreducible?
11 Cf. McTaggart, Studies in the Hegelian Dialectic, sees. 112-114, and
Commentary, sec. 12.
JOURNALS AND NEW BOOKS 195
JOURNALS AND NEW BOOKS
SCIENTIA. June, 1921. Ten Great Epochs in the History of
Mathematics (pp. 417-428): DAVID EUGENE SMITH (New York).-
Attractive little sketch of the history of mathematics from a partic-
ular point of view. La contribution que les divers pays ont donnee
aux progres de la physique. II. Physique energetique et physique
electronique (pp. 429-442) : ABEL KEY (Paris). -On the basis of the
earlier discovered thermodynamic laws was built up in the late
nineteenth century a science of energetics, a physics without hypo-
theses either atomic or kinetic. But it was on the whole infertile in
new discoveries, and atomism came back to its own again with the
electron theories of the twentieth century. All the different branches
of physics and chemistry as well have now reached a new syn-
thesis and system, one science instead of a group of partly analogous
sciences ; while the work of developing it has become even more truly
international than ever before, though the English still think in terms
of concrete models, the Germans in abstract mathematics, and the
French and Italians pursue a middle course. La constitution de I'in-
dividualite. I. L 'individuality physiologique (pp. 443-452) : Au-
GUSTO Pi SUNER (Barcelona) .-Every biological individual is capable
of reproducing itself, and is unique not only in outward form but
also in chemical constitution. Problemes financiers d'apres guerre.
I. Dettes publiques et charges fiscales (pp. 453-472) : CORRADO
GINI (Padua). -Excellent survey of the usual means now employed
to raise the national revenue, with the merits of each. Reviews of
Scientific Books and Periodicals.
Levy-Bruhl, Lucien. La Mentalite Primitive. Paris: Felix Alcan.
1922. Pp. 537. 25 fr.
More, Paul Elmer. The Religion of Plato. Princeton: University
Press. London : Oxford University Press. 1921. Pp. xii + 352.
Piccoli, Raffaello. Benedetto Croce: An Introduction to his Phi-
losophy. New York : Harcourt, Brace & Co. 1922. Pp. xi + 315.
Reyburn, Hugh A. The Ethical Theory of Hegel : A Study of the
Philosophy of Right. Oxford: Clarendon Press. 1921. Pp.
xx 268.
NOTES AND NEWS
The Aristotelian Society met in London on February 6, 1922,
Professor Wildon Carr in the chair. Mr. A. H. Hannay read a paper
on "Standards and Principles in Art," a synopsis of which follows:
The problem of standards and of objectivity in art is usually
196 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
debated on the basis of the alternatives of standards-and-objectivity
or no-standards-and-subjectivity ; and no third possibility is envis-
aged. Neither alternative being satisfactory, the position is a
stalemate. Mr. Bal four's attitude in his Romanes lecture is typical.
It is true that the standard and rule must be rejected. They involve
a vicious circle and enjoy only a counterfeit stability. No mediating
criterion can be set up. Each new and individual work of art
carries with it its own individual and original awareness. This view
however does not necessitate a lapse into subjectivism, if it is realized
that the awareness or taste is itself a striving for objectivity and
Tightness. The very search for standards is itself the outcome of
this incessant quest for right taste. While this particular search
has proved fruitless, it is a half truth to say that nothing can be
achieved by means of reflection, definition and analysis. Beauty is
not entirely unique and indefinable. It is a process, a constructing,
and can be differentiated from other processes, such as history,
science, philosophy. Actually, modern criticism is full of psycholog-
ical analyses which definitely involve reflective principles. These
however are distinct from the old standards, inasmuch as they do
not pretend to anticipate the individual content of works of art.
Nevertheless the same question arises regarding them as regarding
standards. Do they precede, accompany or follow upon esthetic
creation and appreciation? And if they follow upon it, what is
their value? It is the commonly accepted view that they are a
later product. This view has been stated very lucidly and trench-
antly by Benedetto Croce and is very plausible. Yet history does
not confirm it and it does not explain the fact that criticism clarifies
taste and is expected to do so. Croce 's own admirable criticism is
a good instance. It is therefore suggested that the process imagina-
tion-principle is not a passage from one independent activity to
another, but a development requiring from the start both activities
and in which a modification in one means a modification in the other.
The critic emphasizes the universal element while the artist empha-
sizes the individual element ; nevertheless the critic attains a clearer
consciousness of the value and significance of the individual work
of art.
VOL. XIX, No. 8. APRIL 13, 1922
THE JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
ROMANTICISM VS. THE WORSHIP OF FACT
ECENTLY a noted writer reiterated the ancient but fallaci-
ous charge of subjectivism against the romantic attitude.
The dispute normally arises in the following way: The romantic
endeavors to escape from the world of the actual into that of fancy,
or more specifically into the realm of esthetic and speculative im-
agination. The critic, however, interprets this attitude as an un-
willingness to submit to outward fact and accuses the romantic of
a desire to withdraw into a world of his own creation.
The indictment rests on a confusion between the actual and the
real. The critic begins with a fallacious identification of the real
with the actual and then goes on to describe any breaking loose
from the latter into the world of imagination as a detachment from
the objective and a. retreat into the subjective. But it is only a
vulgar preference or extreme naivete that could lead one to limit
reality to the actual ; over and above the actual, there is the field of
subsistence, of ideal entities, of forms, of possibilities; and the
romantic imagination is not vain dreaming but an extension of the
area of knowledge itself beyond perception into the realm of these
ideal essences.
It was the distinctive merit of Leibniz to have pointed out with
clearness that besides the actual there is also the world of possibili-
ties, inhabited by entities that are real though not existent. Leib-
niz, in commenting upon the common-sense view that "heavy bodies
really exist and act, but possibilities or essences anterior to exist-
ence or apart from it, are imaginary or fictitious" urges that
"neither these essences nor what are called eternal truths regard-
ing these essences are fictitious but that they exist in a certain re-
gion (if I may so call it) of ideas, that is to say, in God Himself." 1
Now, the romantic escape from the actual is but a transfer of
residence into the realm of possibilities. Indeed, romanticism is
to art what pure logic is to thought; both are other-worldly, and
differ only in the fact that, whereas the former is seeking beauty,
the latter is in quest of intellectual values in the universe of all
possible worlds. Hence, far from being subjectivistic, romanticism
is a projection of the self into the objective ; far from being a flight
i Quoted from the Essay on the Ultimate Origination of Things.
197
198 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
into the void of the unreal, romanticism is a sharing, along with
God, in the contemplation of the vast landscape of all possible
worlds.
It is the "realist" himself that must be charged with subjectivism.
For, by insisting that attention be confined to the actual, the realist
manifests a limitation of interest to himself and to his immediate
surroundings. After all, the world of actuality has no intrinsic
advantages over the world of possibility ; we come to like the former
quite unreflectively because we find ourselves in it, as we like our
brothers and sisters, or our country. To be transported into the
possible is to be taken out of ourselves and our own, and the realist,
refusing as he does to leave the borders of his spiritual birthplace,
betrays an intellectual provincialism; his mind remains untrav-
elled. But the romantic temperament is adventuresome and free,
launching bold expeditions into unexplored regions of possibility,
all the while going about, not in the fashion of a Baedecker tour-
ist, but immersing itself in the new regions and investigating them
with an open mind, unhampered by the prejudices of the little bit
of actuality into which it has been born.
The realist suffers from inertia of mind; he is too indolent to
move about. But romanticism is the mind become active and rest-
less, for fancy is like blazing coal in the engine of the soul. Thus,
the realist's world is poor and narrow, devoid of the wealth and
variety of the romantic scenery. And if the poet's dictum that
"he does not England know who only England knows" be true,
then, by analogy, the realist knows not even his corner of actuality
well, because he has not contemplated it in the light of other pos-
sibilities.
The fundamental, though tacit, assumption of the defenders of
realism is that actuality possesses worth as such and that roman-
ticism is at a great disadvantage for its neglect of the actual.
Anselm, even Leibniz himself, maintained that actuality is a requisite
of perfection and the transition from possibility to realization an
absolute gain. Now, for one thing, Kant has refuted Anselm by
showing that actuality adds nothing to possibility. In fact, there
is something essentially accidental about actuality. Abstractly,
any causal law is as possible as any other; yet one is realized and
the others are not. There is no reason why dead people should not
talk, but they don't; there is no reason why the sun should rise;
it simply does rise and keeps on rising, inexplicably, every morn-
ing. Existence is therefore lacking the dignity bestowed by neces-
sity.
Moreover, do we not all admit that distance lends enchantment
ROMANTICISM VS. THE WORSHIP OF FACT 199
distance in time, distance from the present, in other words, remote-
ness from the actual? The past is beautiful because it represents
that portion of reality which has gone out of time into eternity.
That spatio-temporal reality is at best a poor affair, is evidenced by
the fact that reason in the guise of science is engaged in a con-
tinued effort to patch things up, to fill up vast gaps by correspond-
ingly vast assumptions, introducing the hypothesis of uniformity to
explain away the apparent diversity, sewing up the ragged edges
of events with the thread of causal law, trying to compensate for
the coarse exterior of the stream of happenings by constructing
behind apearances a conceptual world of points and atoms, so much
so that virtually the larger part of what common-sense and science
call reality is nothing but intellectual construction.
But may not actuality claim a certain "robustness" and "con-
creteness" denied to the world of pure ideas? Even that is doubt-
ful. The robustness of the actual is of a hectic hue and deceptive
like the color on a feverish face or the energy exhibited by one who
is intoxicated. For the more penetrating and intense the intellect-
ual vision, the more does the actual fade into a shadow, as Plato
came to see, until, in the mystical experience, it dissolves into an
illusion. The claims of fact upon our attention are not of intrin-
sic merit but of dominion; we must take notice of the immediate
situation because, if we do not, we suffer. And yet it is into this
sea of fleeting, chaotic existence that Bergsonian mysticism invites
us to plunge stripped bare of all clothing of intellectual elabora-
tion to be drawn below by fickle currents, away from the fresh
and free atmosphere of creative thought.
In sum, existence is an evil and creation the original sin. Leib-
niz himself recognized that a possibility can never be realized as
such because the receptivity of the world is limited. To realize is
to weaken, to dilute the ideal. That, as J. S. Mill complained, a
heretic becomes a tyrant as soon as he enters into power in other
words, that one ceases to care for freedom as soon as one has at-
tained it is a vivid instance of the vicious effect of attempting to
transfer the ideal from the realm of possibility to that of fact. The
question instinctively arises, why there should be a world of ex-
istence at all. If we look at the process as a passage from the pos-
sible to the actual through the mechanism of creation, then the prob-
lem before us is indeed insoluble. But the situation is simplified
if we take existence as granted and regard the universal process
as one of a gradual liberation of the possible from the existent. To
this view, the law of the dissipation of energy lends strong support.
Obviously, matter obstinately resists extinction, yet the availability
200 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
of energy for work constantly diminishes; in other words, its abil-
ity to embody new forms and ideas is gradually being reduced.
Spurts of new life and the formation of new combinations indicate
desperate efforts on the part of the actual to extend its hold upon
the ideal; but with the eventual cessation of work, foreshadowed
by the so-called law of degeneration, the dominion of matter over
form will come to an end, and the realm of possibilities will no
longer suffer encroachment from the actual.
In line with this tendency are all the noblest aspirations of man
as embodied in art, in religion, and in philosophy. In these, the
soul proclaims itself an exile in the actual and voices a profound
yearning to escape from the immediate in time and in space.
Romanticism, then, as we have defined it, is not by any means an
isolated movement. Philosophy and poetry constitute preeminent
instances of the soul liberating itself from fact under the stimulus,
in the one case, of intellectual and in the other of esthetic imagina-
tion. Even science, as we noted above, is not a mirror of fact, but
an intellectual embroidery upon it. And as philosophy expresses
the romanticism of the intellect, so does the attitude of faith repre-
sent the romanticism of the will. For what is this undying optim-
ism in the face of failure, this pathetic devotion to hopeless causes,
this faith in the eventual doing of justice when injustice rules un-
checked, this belief in human beings and confidence in their un-
limited progress, but a vast construction of the moral imagination
upon the very facts of failure?
In the long run, life can not be left wholly out of account;
after all, life is one of the many dreams and the actual world one
of the infinite possible worlds. We should therefore school our
minds to conceive the actual sub specie possibilitatis to use it in-
deed as a stepping-stone into the domain of possibility. For the
enlightened soul inhabits a world whose area embraces the actual
but extends far beyond it into the subsistent, and its home is the
entire universe of being.
RAPHAEL DEMOS.
CAMBRIDGE, MASS.
IN the presentation of a scientific theory for philosophical con-
sideration, it is of primary importance that the fundamental
bases of the theory be brought prominently, and indeed unequivo-
i Certain objections to J. E. Turner 's article ' ' Some Philosophic Aspects of
Scientific Relativity," this JOURNAL, Vol. XVIII, No. 8.
RELATIVITY, OLD AND NEW 201
cally to the fore, and that the points at which it departs in its vital
essentials from previously held theories relating to the same phe-
nomena stand forth in unmistakable relief. From this standpoint
I can not but take exception to Mr. Turner's presentation, as well as
to some of his conclusions.
In his second paragraph Mr. Turner wisely says "... the term
'relativity' itself accounts for much of the prevailing confusion,"
and further, "Even its widest later applications are concerned only
with the relative velocities of systems and observers, and with the
mathematical and other scientific (but not philosophic) implications
of these. . . . The theory has ... no bearing on the subjectivity of
Time and Space." The first quotation would suggest that an ex-
planation of the term "relativity" in its application under discus-
sion is desirable, and this I shall endeavor to supply. The second
is true only if ' ' philosophic ' ' is used in a very narrow sense. Philo-
sophy, certainly if it "holds an inalienable lien on the whole of ex-
perience" is concerned with other aspects of time and space than
their subjectivity and objectivity. While relativity may throw no
additional light on the question of the degree of objectivity possessed
by the metrical time and space which are mathematically treated, it
introduces changes in our ideas as to the relations between them, to
motion, and to things in time and space, which, even if not "revolu-
tionary," are profoundly different from the classical conceptions.
Revolutionary is an hyperbolical word, but the theory of the relations
between space and time required by modern physics must command
philosophical attention, though it be characterized by a more modest
adjective.
The idea of "relativity" in physics is by no means modern, but
has been assumed in Newtonian mechanics almost axiomatically in
the case of uniform motion. This "Newtonian Relativity" is the
relativity of the "man in the street," and in everyday language is
nothing more than the statement that if a person walks four miles
per hour from the rear platform to the front platform, of a trolley
car running twenty miles an hour, he will cover ground at the rate
of twenty-four miles an hour ; and further, if a boy standing on the
track in front of the car throws a stone at a speed of one hundred
miles an hour, it will hit the passenger at the speed of one hundred
and twenty-four miles an hour. This seems axiomatic to the non-
scientifically inclined, and in the language of physics defines space
as a region in which Euclidean geometry is valid. In such a space
figures may be moved about and rotated without change of size or
shape, either while moving, or after having changed their relative
202 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOI'JI Y
positions; velocities are directly additive, and by combining a suffi-
cient number of finite velocities, we may exceed any specified velo-
city. If we have a record of the motions of our passenger in the
trolley car relative to the car (as for instance the spots that he
tapped on the floor with his cane, which he is in the habit of swing-
ing every second as he walks) we can obtain a record of his positions
relative to the track by adding to the distance of each spot from the
rear platform, the quantity obtained by multiplying the time of that
spot by the velocity of the car, and laying off the total distance so
computed from the position of the rear platform when the car
started. If we denote the distance from the rear platform of the
car by x' and that from the station by x we find that x' = x vt (1)
where v is the velocity of the car. The position of the passenger
between the rails, and the height above the rails are not affected by
the motion of the car, and there is no discrepancy between the pas-
senger's watch and the clock in the station, provided that they
agreed at the start. These facts are described by the equations
y' = y, (2), z' = z (3), and t' = t (4). The important features of
this transformation, for our present discussion are:
(a) Distances are unaltered.
(6) Directions are unaltered.
(c) Velocities are directly additive.
(d) The time is entirely independent of the space transformation.
(e) No forces are introduced in one system that were not present
in the other.
It seems inherent to our sense of physical things that they should
be describable from two systems of reference, i.e., from the car and
from the ground, in such a way that certain properties which we
feel to be fundamental should remain unaltered in the two descrip-
tions. In the transformation from one system to another which we
have just described, i.e., one in which the two systems of reference
have a uniform velocity relative to each other, these properties are :
length, direction, mass and force. It is important to notice that no
velocity is invariant. The velocity with which the passanger is
covering the ground is the sum of the speed with which he walks in
the car, and the speed of the car.
The above discussion covers ''Newtonian relativity" in its es-
sentials. It is something so familiar that we almost instinctively
feel it, and the quantities that it leaves invariant we have hitherto
regarded as fundamental in physics, and, in fact, as "objective"
in the same sense that "things" and any relations between things
are objective. So deeply was the idea of the invariance of these
quantities embedded in our physical concepts that when new forces
RELATIVITY, OLD AND NEW 203
were introduced in cases in which the motion was not uniform, we
did not regard it as a violation of the principle, and we called such
forces "inertia forces," although the question, "Uniform relatively
to what? " was lightly avoided. But while the above discussion
is in accord with everyday thought, certain physical phenomena
are not in accord with it.
Within the last hundred years, the results of various experi-
ments have forced us from this delightfully simple and "self-evi-
dent" relativity. These experiments are of two general types.
One type shows that whether we are moving toward, or receding
from a ray of light, it approaches us with the same relative velocity.
From the point of view of classical mechanics this conclusion is
little short of astounding, but it is arrived at by direct physical
measurement, and must be accepted, at least pending the results of
further experimental investigation. It also appears that this is
not due to the medium which transmits light (if such there be)
being carried along with us as we move.
The other type of experiment shows that the dimensions of
particles moving with velocities approaching that of light, vary in
a certain way according to the velocity of the system from which
they are measured. An electron suffers a contraction in the direc-
tion of its motion relative to the system of measurement, and its
mass increases as a certain function of its velocity. Computation
also shows that, accompanying these transformations, there must
be an increase in the units of time on the moving electron, relative
to the units on the observing system. These phenomena were
known as "The Lorentz-FitzGerald Contraction," and it was first
shown by Einstein that they depend not on any peculiarity of elec-
trons, but on the very act of measuring by a means of communica-
tion, between object and observer, the velocity of which is invari-
ant.
The revision of the Newtonian principle of relativity to account
for these experimentally observed facts has been effected by Ein-
stein in his "Special Theory of Relativity." He has shown that
all these phenomena are capable of explanation if we drop the as-
sumption of the invariance of our supposed fundamental physical
quantities, and proceed on the assumption of the invariance of the
velocity of light. When we do this the stability of our old con-
stants flies to the winds. The length of our trolley car becomes
shorter when it is in motion relatively to us than when it is station-
ary, and the passenger's embonpoint suffers even more so, provided
he is walking towards the front of the car; also his velocity over
the ground is a little less than the sum of his walking speed and
204 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
the speed of the car. The equations of this transformation which
take the place of (1) and (4) in the Newtonian theory are
and
(6).
In this transformation none of the properties considered under
the former transformation holds, with the exception of (e). The
point that might be characterized as "revolutionary" is that the
space and time transformations are not independent. Now it is
true that in previous physical theory four independent coordi-
nates have been used to describe an event, three to establish a posi-
tion in space, and one to signify the time of that position ; but the
distinction between space and time has always been definite. The
characteristics of space remained invariant in time, and those of
time were invariant in space. Under such conditions it was of no
utility to complicate the discussion by saying that an event was
specified by four coordinates in a four-dimensional space-time, al-
though this conception could have been used by any one so inclined.
The sense in which this conception is used in the theory of relativity
is, however, far more fundamental.
Consider, for instance, our observation of a cube. Disregard-
ing the effect of binocular vision, a cube may appear to us as a
variety of plane figures, according to our line of sight. From one
position it appears as a square, from another as an hexagon with
three lines from alternate vertices to the center. It may also ap-
pear in irregular shapes, with varying lengths of edges and differ-
ent angles. We further observe that these shapes change as we
change our position relative to the object under observation. Now
we might formulate a set of laws which would tell us how this plane
figure alters its size and shape as we observe it from different
distances and directions, but they would appear rather compli-
cated and arbitrary. Equations (5) and (6) are laws so formu-
lated. However, with a certain amount of mathematical insight,
we might postulate a three-dimensional object which is invariant
to the transformations caused by observing it from different direc-
tions, namely the cube, and say that the variety of plane figures we
see are views of this invariant object from different directions.
Equations (5) and (6) say just this, except that the four-dimen-
RELATIVITY, OLD AND NEW 205
sional space-time in which we view the phenomena from different
angles, depending on our velocity relative to the phenomena, is not
Euclidean. It is homaloidal, and may be made to correspond to a
Euclidean space of four dimensions by substituting for time a vari-
able proportional to it, but whose square is negative. In mathe-
matical analysis such a variable is technically termed "imaginary,"
and the use of "imaginary" in this sense is responsible for Mr.
Turner's statement that "... the 'four-dimensional world of
Minkowski' is not a universe which is more truly real than the
spaciotemporal world of perceptual experience." The use of the
"imaginary" in this connection is entirely unnecessary, and is
indeed only a mathematical artifice to simplify certain aspects of
the theory, just as certain vectors are represented by complex num-
bers which have an "imaginary" part, in computations involving
alternating currents. We may say that Minkowski 's world is Eu-
clidean and four-dimensional, but that our sense of perception of
the fourth dimension as time can not perceive it in kind with the
other three dimensions, but must perceive a different function of
it, i.e., -^-lu, where "u" is in kind with the three spacial
dimensions, or we may say that we perceive all four dimensions as
similar in kind, and that Minkowski 's world is non-Euclidean. In
either case the percept-concept is non-Euclidean, and the argument
has the metaphysical possibilities of the question as to whether
we are looking up if we are standing on our heads and looking
down. The four-dimensional world is more real than the spatial
world of three dimensions in exactly the same sense that the cube
is more real than the multitude of variously shaped plane figures
we observe when looking at it from different positions. It is the
invariant that we are compelled to regard as fundamental in seek-
ing that interpretation of results which involves the least number
of arbitrary assumptions. In the same sense that it would be ex-
ceedingly arbitrary to regard the plane figure which changes size
and shape as we change our position, as the fundamental entity, it
is arbitrary to regard the figures of spatial points which change
shape according to equation (5) as fundamental, when the changes
may be perfectly interpreted as a revolution of an invariant in
four-dimensional space.
We must, therefore, take direct issue with Mr. Turner's state-
ment that "These methods and principles, however, do not affect
in the remotest degree the philosophic problems of objective real-
ity, the pros and cons of which remain what they were before.
..." Both scientists and philosophers are in danger of falling into
a pitfall of verbal quibbles when they attack the question of what
206 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
is objective. If by "objective" is meant an unknowable reality
underlying phenomena, it is hard to see how any physical facts
could throw light on tin- question of such an objective reality. Ami
if by "objective reality" is meant the ordinary perceptual experi-
ence of common-sense objects, that is only altered by the Lorentz-
FitzGerald contraction, and this would seem to be Mr. Turner's
position. But if by "objective" is meant either a rationalized ex-
perience, or a world independent of the awareness of a percipient
(in the sense in which the neo-realists use independent), such an
objective reality is profoundly changed by the "Special Theory of
Relativity"; for it transfers the question from the three-dimen-
sional world of spacial points to the four-dimensional world of
space-time. In our efforts to narrow the results of physical per-
ception to what appears most likely to be connected with an objec-
tive reality, we postulate that it must depend as little as possible
on the personality of the observer and the point of observation.
This certainly gives the invariant world of four dimensions a
stronger position than one composed of three dimensions that vary
as we observe them under different conditions; and it would seem
that the position hitherto occupied by the three-dimensional cosmos
must now be taken by Minkowski's "world" of four dimensions.
Before leaving this part of the discussion I can not refrain from
voicing an objection to Mr. Turner's exposition of the transforma-
tions in terms of sound. The transformations of the ' ' Special Theory
of Relativity" owe their characteristic significance to the in variance
of the velocity of light relative to any observer. Mr. Turner's con-
genitally blind observers could ascertain their velocities relative to
the medium which transmits sound, without difficulty, and could also
detect the relative velocity of another source of sound. Further,
if we grant them a sufficient degree of hyperesthesia, they could
detect the Lorentz-FitzGerald contraction, but of course they would
not interpret the constant "c" as the velocity of light. Indeed it is
not necessary to the special theory of relativity that the velocity of
light should be exactly the fundamental invariant velocity "c."
The point is that such a maximum exists, and the velocity of light
is so close to it that we have as yet detected no difference. For the
blind observers to draw Mr. Turner's conclusion that "what is
heard is real, and the audible differences in the firing rates of the
two guns actual and ultimate," it would be necessary that they be
congenitally lacking in other respects than eyesight. Mr. Turner's
footnote in this connection regarding the in variance of the velocity
of light is analogous to the introduction of the Prince of Denmark
as epilogue.
RELATIVITY, OLD AND NEW 207
To proceed to the "General Theory of Kelativity," it will be
recalled that the transformation to a uniformly moving system made
no change in the property (e), i.e., no forces were introduced into
one system that were not in the other, although the question "Uni-
form relatively to what?" was avoided. Newton saw the difficulty
and dodged it by saying in effect, "Relatively to the fixed stars."
Now if we try to express the relations between the two systems in
such a manner that they are of the same form even though the
systems be accelerated, we find that the forces are not invariant,
and indeed depend entirely on the way in which we measure the
phenomena in question. The general theory states the character-
istics of a phenomenon relative to any set of quantities we may
choose to measure it by, and shows that the special theory holds only
in space free from the effects of gravitating matter. In the presence
of gravitating matter the quantities that are invariant are still
further reduced, and objective reality in the sense in which three-
dimensional objects have been regarded as real becomes still more
elusive. The four-dimensional manifold of space-time is not homa-
loidal, but "curved," and its curvature is determined by an operator
called a tensor, whose value for any point is dependent upon the
distribution of matter. This curvature must be regarded as having
a certain objectivity. By suitably choosing our conditions of obser-
vation in any one place, we can remove it locally, as for instance we
can lose weight for a few seconds in an elevator that starts to de-
scend, but our elation is short lived, or would be should we get on
a pair of scales as the elevator approaches a landing. Removing;
the effect in one location augments it in the remainder of the con-
tinuum.
Among the physical concepts formerly considered fundamental,
the only ones that still remain invariant are the concept of ' ' action, ' '
which is of the dimensions of energy times time, and the thermody-
namic function, "entropy." From the new standpoint, qualities
that we have hitherto regarded as theoretically being able to increase
without limit, are definitely limited. Thus we have a maximum
velocity " c, " and a definite extent of space which may be computed
as a function of the mean density of matter. There also appears
to be an upper limit to the density of matter or energy. These re-
sults are due, not as Mr. Turner says in concluding "to the funda-
mental role, already alluded to, played by light and vision in normal
experience, ' ' but to the discovery that there is a fundamental velocity
that is invariant, and which happens to be very near the velocity
of light; so near in fact that the two are quite generally regarded
208 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
as identical. My reason for stating it in this way is to emphasize
the point that is not the fact that this velocity is that of light, but
that it is invariant that leads to the theory of relativity.
H. A. W ADMAN.
NEWPORT Niws, VA.
AN HISTORICAL ANTICIPATION OF JOHN FISKE'S
THEORY REGARDING THE VALUE
OF INFANCY
JOHN FISKE is universally credited, and justly, with making an
important contribution to the theory of evolution. I refer to
his theory regarding the meaning and value of the prolonged period
of human infancy in comparison with the briefer infancy of the
lower animals. Without questioning Fiske's independence of other
sources in developing his theory, I would like to call attention to an
obscure essay published nearly forty years before Fiske's first book
appeared, an essay in which the two points regarding the value of
infancy made by Fiske are made in a strikingly parallel manner.
A few months ago Mr. George W. Robinson, Secretary of the
Harvard Graduate School, showed me an old volume which he had
found in a second-hand book-store; and he called my attention to
an essay in it which, as he thought, was similar to writings by Fiske
many years later. This volume is entitled The Friend's Annual; or
Aurora Borealis, It consists of essays written by "Members of the
Society of Friends" and was published in England in 1834. Among
the essays is one covering six pages (pp. 152-57) entitled "On the
Helpless State of Infancy," which is signed simply with the initials,
V. F.
The purpose of V. F., writing before the acceptance of evolu-
tionary views, was to show the ' ' graciousness of Providence" in
establishing the long period of helpless human infancy. The pur-
pose of Fiske was to support the evolutionary theory by showing
the significance of a lengthened infancy as a factor in bridging
the gap between brute and man, and to account for the evolution
of human intelligence and morals. Indirectly, however, Fiske was
attempting to "justify the ways of God to man" by pointing out
the goodness of the Power manifested in the evolutionary process,
and for this reason the similarity between Fiske's theories and
V. F. 's become all the more striking. According to Fiske, as is well
known, a long period of infancy is valuable, first, in giving time for
educative influences to work upon the plastic brain and in making
JOHN FISKE'S THEORY OF INFANCY 209
possible thereby a high development of the mind, and, second, in
making necessary a greater degree of parental co-operation than is
the case among the lower animals in caring for the young, who are
dependent, in the case of human beings, for several years at least.
Thus, according to Fiske, a long, helpless human infancy manifests
its purpose in the resulting development of the domestic virtues,
and in the general education of each new generation which is made
possible by a long period of plasticity. The unknown author of the
essay in The Friend's Annual, after discussing the relatively short
infancy of most forms of animal life, and the lack of any high degree
of parental care except in the higher forms of life, turns to man, and
in the following sentences embodies the gist of both points made by
Fiske :
"Thus gracious hath Providence been to man, in rendering the
ties of parental and filial affection so much more permanent in this
His noblest work, than in any of His inferior creatures. And this
is, in itself, a sufficient answer to the objections and complaints of
those ancient and modern philosophers (Pliny and Buff on), who
have delighted to vilify human nature, on account of the helpless
condition of man in his state of infancy and childhood. ; because this
very helplessness, by demanding the constant and long-continued
attention of parents, gives rise to, and renders habitual, the tender
charities of domestic and social life" (pp. 154-55).
"This helpless condition, then, in which it hath pleased our
Maker that we should be introduced in the present state, exhibits
many marks of benevolent and wise design. ... It ought to be
regarded with thankfulness, as necessary to the formation of that
strong and durable affection between parent and child, which is one
distinguishing feature of the human race, and a mark of its superior
character" (p. 157).
"But this is also a beneficial and wise appointment in another
important respect. It is admirably adapted to the circumstances
of man, considered as a rational and moral being, designed to be
trained to usefulness in the present life, and to the cultivation of
those religious and virtuous habits, by which he is to be fitted for
another. It is necessary to such a being, that maturity of under-
standing and bodily strength should be gradually acquired, by the
slow development of his corporeal and mental faculties" (p. 155).
In the writings of Fiske there are to be found ideas which are
strikingly similar to portions of V. F.'s essay. For example, com-
pare with the last part of the first paragraph quoted above from
V. F. the following from Fiske (Excursions of an Evolutionist,
p. 316) : "Infancy extending over several years must have tended
210 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
gradually to strengthen the relationship of the children to the
mother, and eventually to both parents, and thus gives rise to the
permanent organization of the family."
It does not seem likely that the circulation of The Friend's An-
nual was wide or that a copy was ever seen by Fiske. I have been
unable to find another copy than the one in Mr. Robinson's pos-
session. The obvious similarity of thought and expression simply
shows how hard it is to be wholly original in the sense of thinking
and saying what no one ever thought or said before.
WESLEY RAYMOND WELLS.
LAKE FOREST COLLEGE.
THE TWENTY-FIRST ANNUAL MEETING OF THE AMERI-
CAN PHILOSOPHICAL ASSOCIATION EASTERN
DIVISION
rriHERE are two kinds of people who attend philosophical meet-
J- ings : those who go because of the papers to be presented ;
and those who go in spite of them. Probably by temperament,
training or moral convictions most American philosophers belong
consistently to one or the other of the two classes. Probably most
of them, that is, are impervious alike to disillusionment and to
agreeable surprise, and so continue either to regard the programme
prepared by the executive committee as the Mecca of the annual
pilgrimage; or to deplore it is a necessary evil something by no
means warranting the expenditure of railroad fare. But undoubt-
edly there is always also a small minority capable of the human
grace of change of heart. A few pessimists turn optimistic; a
few optimists arrive at the delayed and gloomy conclusion that
philosophy in America has gone to the dogs.
If many were moved to unwonted enthusiasm over this year's
oblation to the spirit of Philosophy, confirmed cynics will prob-
ably insinuate that the fact may be explained as due to the un-
precedented brevity of the ceremony. After all, nobody minds
even extreme twinges of boredom or of pain provided they be brief
enough; and to be served with but three formal sessions, duly
punctuated by unusually delightful social gatherings, might cre-
ate the illusion of enjoyment merely by contrast with the prolonged
boredom to which one was accustomed. Any defender of the
Poughkeepsie sessions would have to admit that they were brief.
But he would still maintain that they were also intrinsically inter-
esting and important. Presumably the chief task of the present
AMERICAN PHILOSOPHICAL ASSOCIATION 211
reviewer is to indicate what there was about the twenty-first con-
gregation of philosophers to call for special praise.
There were ten papers promised, nine given, and the first
ground for favorable comment on so limited a programme was the
variety of the interests represented. The list of topics dealt with
in the papers themselves included: the nature of religion, the na-
ture of the good, the nature of a physical thing, the nature of phil-
osophy. Subjects as wide asunder as Kemp Smith's commentary on
Kant and the superstitions of popular philosophy were criticized;
while by one writer the concept of civilization, by another, the
concept of experience was displayed for analysis. In the course of
the discussion attendant upon the formal presentations, the points
of view of absolute idealism, of extreme pragmatism, of moderated
pragmatism, of positivism, of agnosticism, and of several degrees of
realism were picturesquely exemplified. The papers would have
possessed some value if they had done no more than thus demonstrate
the actual range of current philosophical opinion.
What might have been supposed to rank among the less signifi-
cant of the contributions proved one of the most brilliant Profes-
sor Meiklejohn's remarks on Smith's Commentary. If commen-
taries themselves savor of the parasitic subsisting, vulture-like
upon the carcasses of other men's ideas a commentary upon
a commentary should be but the parasite of a parasite. But,
at least in the case of Professor Meiklejohn's acute and epigram-
matic criticism, the double negative took on the character of a
genuine positive. The paper was important not as an elicitor of
wide and varied discussion it was replied to merely by Professor
Cohen but as a little gem of analysis and exposition. Estheti-
cally, it had the effect of a philosophical lyric, if one will grant
the substitution of logical for poetical poignancy, and dialectial
cohesion for a merely emotional unity. By deft manipulation of
Kemp Smith's premises, Professor Meiklejohn demonstrated that
Smith's attempted annihilation of Kant came to naught, reducing
to the protest that Kant didn't mean what he said he meant. He
denounced in particular as highly questionable Smith's method of
arbitrarily selecting out of a paragraph one set of Kantian propo-
sitions, forcibly taken out of context, and rejecting as improper
intrusions of a different date another set actually interwoven with
the first.
Another paper which fell into the midst of relative silence was
that of Professor Cohen on Myth and Science in Popular Philoso-
phy. One part of the audience agreed so profoundly with Profes-
sor Cohen's contentions that they found nothing to say in the way
212 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
of criticism or qualification. Another part experienced such thor-
ough disapproval of the spirit and ultimate implications of what
he expressed that nothing short of a pitched battle would have
promised satisfaction. It was not a mere sense of the pres-
ent incompleteness and unwarranted dogmatism of science that Pro-
fessor Cohen gave voice to. The spirit of his polemic was cynical
as if he felt actual glee in the weaknesses and deficiencies he dis-
covered and the intention of it seemed to be to throw in question
as all equally childish and superstitious the best-grounded hypoth-
eses of modern thought. It was as they concerned the concept
of evolution that his comments were perhaps especially to be de-
plored.
They were to be deplored chiefly for the improper use to which
they might be put, all the more dangerous by reason of his own
great learning and ingenuity. He was directing his attacks against
all undue certitude, all forms of superstition, and it is certainly
not to be supposed that he intended for a moment to lend support
to anything like the Mosaic account of creation as an alternative
to the Darwinian. And yet there can be no doubt that the popular
effect of any somewhat ambiguous criticism of the doctrine of nat-
ural selection is always the lamentable one of reinforcing doubt of
science from the standpoint of religion. With fanatics in the state
of Kentucky bent on controlling biological instruction out of con-
sideration for church dogmas, and with certain otherwise admir-
able New York papers giving voice to the bigotry of those for
whom the theory of organic evolution is an a priori impossibility,
scientific doubts need to be couched carefully if they would not
mislead. As an example of wise caution, the procedure of Pro-
fessor Bateson in his address on Evolutionary Faith and Modern
Doubts before the American Association for the Advancement of
Science at its December Meeting in Toronto may be cited. He said
at the close of his paper: "I have put before you frankly the con-
siderations which have made us agnostic as to the actual mode
and processes of evolution. When such confessions are made the
enemies of science see their chance. . . . Let us then proclaim in
precise and unmistakable language that our faith in evolution is
unshaken. Every available line of argument converges on this in-
evitable conclusion. The obscurantist has nothing to suggest which
is worth a moment's attention." Any one in the ranks of science
or philosophy failing to make such specific confession of positive
faith should take heed lest he be unwittingly counted among the
obscurantists rather than as merely an exponent of an esoteric
type of skepticism.
AMERICAN PHILOSOPHICAL ASSOCIATION 213
The only other paper of the afternoon session with Professor
Cohen was that of Professor Montague entitled The Missing Link
in the Case for Utilitarianism. As always when problems of ethics
are introduced, the discussion that followed was fast and furious.
The theory put forward was that, whereas Mill rightly felt that
there are different kinds of happiness, some being incommensurably
superior to others, he need not have abandoned the utilitarian prin-
ciple that happiness is the sole measure of good, if he had recog-
nized dimensionalities of happiness. This concept of dimension-
ality, so Professor Montague contended, while doing full justice
to the fact that no number of pig contentments could equal a So-
cratic contentment, still makes possible the avoidance of any other
quality than happiness in the hierarchy of goods. The difference,
then, between a simple pleasure and virtue would still remain
quantitative, one being a good, the other a permanent ground for
unlimited further goods. The discussion was participated in by
Professors Cohen, Brown, Bakewell, Pratt, Fullerton, and others.
Some acute criticisms were offered by Professor Fullerton in partic-
ular, and Professors Cohen and Pratt suggested analogies for the
elucidation of Professor Montague's theory. It can not, however,
be said that the case for utilitarianism was finally settled, one way
or the other.
In two other papers at the close of the sessions on the follow-
ing day the problem of the good was reopened, first by Dr. Stephen
Pepper under the title: Primitive and Standard Value, and then
by Dr. C. E. Ayres in exposition of the theme: Before Good and
Evil: Civilization. Again there was animated argument, particu-
larly with regard to the point of view apparently shared by the
two speakers, that standards of good and evil are quite empirical
affairs, the product of group habit and ultimately the outcome of
instinctive behavior. Mr. Ayres, in particular, appeared to think
that a kind of majority vote was the final criterion of the good.
Professors Pratt, Montague and others attacked the notion that
standards are devoid of objective validity, as Mr. Pepper had con-
tended, and Professor Overstreet, in a brief but very eloquent
speech, set forth what is probably the most defensible view in the
whole matter : that the good is not an absolute in the sense in which
possibly mathematical truth is, but is relative to consciousness,
without, however, being entirely individual and variable. The
good, that is, is to be defined by reference to the ideal maximum
development of human valuation.
There remain to be considered the first four papers on the pro-
gramme: that by Professor French on The Metaphysical Value of
214 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
the Religious CoiKcimitncss; that by Professor W. K. Wright on
:ti>.ns and K.rfurnncc; that by Professor Sellars, entitled
Does a Physical Thing Possess Attributes? and finally Professor
Creighton 's paper on the Form of Philosophical Intelligibility.
This last took us back to the chief topic of the previous annual con-
ference which was mainly concerned with the problem of the nature
and function of philosophy. Professor Creighton defended the
idealistic standpoint that things can be truly known only in rela-
tion to the whole, and that the significant inquiry is as to values
rather than existences. He noted the two important points of dif-
ference between science and philosophy resulting from these two
doctrines, and insisted that it is only by the cooperation of imagina-
tion with reason that philosophic knowledge knowledge of the
concrete universal is made possible.
It was in connection with the discussion of Professor French's
paper, however, that the implications of absolute idealism were
brought out with most startling clearness by Professor Creighton.
Professor French had stated that the essential core of the religious
consciousness was the faith that the ideal is real. This had elicited
from Professor Montague a violent protest against the confusion
of religion and ethics, and an affirmation of the essentially unethi-
cal consequence of any religious doctrine to the effect that "all's
right with the world." To which Professor Creighton responded
that the ethicist was being confused with the reformer an indi-
vidual to be tabooed by the truly ethical and religious. Essenti-
ally unethical in his opinion is not the regarding of the world as
perfect, but rather the regarding of it as anything else and the
consequent striving to make it other than we find it.
This position is of course the traditional one for believers in the
absolute, and there was nothing really novel in the defense of it nor
yet in the defense of its opposite. What was picturesque and really
valuable was the clear-cut presentation of the irreconcilable view-
points as summed up in the protest and counter-protest from the
floor. We are so pervasively occupied in elaborating the minor
aspects of our respective philosophies, that it is wholesome and re-
freshing now and then to see their crucial dogmas baldly exhibited.
There was no resolution of the two viewpoints as there can not
be; but at least no ambiguity was left as to the utter opposition be-
tween them.
Professor Wright dragged into the arena for reconsideration
the pragmatist coupling of situations and experience. Though at
first hotly defending an orthodox pragmatic view he finally, under
the goad of questioning, expressed a tentatively agnostic attitude
AMERICAN PHILOSOPHICAL ASSOCIATION 215
which would be quite unobjectionable to many outside the pragmatic
persuasion. A genuinely objective world of values, truths and rela-
tions was practically admitted by him as logically implied by the very
doctrine of pragmatism itself.
To his own query as to whether physical things possess attri-
butes, Professor Sellars, disclaiming the possible imputation that
he spoke for all critical realists, replied in the negative. A lively
debate between him and speakers from the floor followed his pres-
entation of the view that what might be called structure identi-
cal, apparently, with space-time predicates constitutes a so-called
physical thing as it is in itself. Professor Fullerton pressed his
question as to why any one should be more sure of the objective
reality of primary qualities than of secondary; and others vari-
ously defended, on the one hand, a more radically realistic view
than that promoted by Professor Sellars, and on the other, a more
agnostic or subjective. The consensus of opinion seemed to be that
mere "structural" entities such as Professor Sellars defended as
the stuff of the objective universe, were as highly questionable
things as Berkeley had found "substance" to be.
Of the brilliant presidential address by Professor Sheldon en-
titled Soul and Matter there was, of course, no discussion. If there
had been opportunity, rather lively debate might have been an-
ticipated. For Professor Sheldon, after a telling enumeration of
the kind of considerations which lead to dissatisfaction with tradi-
tional materialism, proceeded to defend a doctrine of souls, but
souls interpreted after an unusual manner. It was a creed of soul-
substance that we were offered; not, however, a soul-substance di-
visable and capable of taking on varying configurations. The soul,
according to Professor Sheldon, must be regarded as possessing at
once all the attributes it would possess as a material thing and as
a psychical in other words, it is a psychic substance, a kind of
monad, an ultimate, indivisible, spiritual unit which is yet a genu-
ine substance and in no wise a mere form or force.
The annual dinner which preceded the President's address took
place in Main Hall of Vassar College where all meals were served
to members of the Association, and where likewise the reception
given by President and Mrs. McCracken was held on the first even-
ing. Very much was gained in the way of comfort and informality
by having the association housed in one building, with only a few
steps to take to Rockefeller Hall where the formal meetings took
place. There was consequently ample opportunity for that inti-
mate interchange of ideas which to many affords more pleasure
and profit than does any amount of public discussion. Probably
JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
few if any permanent conversions from one philosophic allegiance
to another ever occur in this way, but at least sometimes there takes
place an enlargement of vision in which the splendid range and
variety of possible viewpoints becomes manifest. Effort after sym-
pathetic envisagement of theories opposed to one's own then ceases
to be distasteful, since truth is seen to bo something far less simple
and easy than an affirmation of one creed or its bare contradiction.
Perhaps this recognition of a reality so rich that it generates a
multiplicity of doctrines is more than anything else the goal of
philosophic convocation.
HELEN HUBS PABKHUBST.
COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY.
BOOK REVIEWS
The Principles of Sociology. EDWARD ALSWORTH Ross. New York :
The Century Company. 1920. Pp. xviii + 708.
In a letter published by Professor Ross as a foreword to his Sin
and Society in 1907, Theodore Roosevelt said: "It is to Justice
jHolmes that I owed the pleasure and profit of reading your book
on Social Control. The Justice spoke of it to me as one of the
strongest and most striking presentations of the subject he had ever
seen." A writer to whom Justice Holmes and Theodore Roosevelt,
not to mention a host of others, acknowledge their debt may justly
lay claim to being a power in the intellectual life of America. By
all that large public, therefore, who have known Professor Ross
through his Social Control, Social Psychology, Sin and Society,
Changing America,, not to mention his Changing Chinese and South
of Panama, this, his latest and most ambitious work, will be gratefully
received.
The Principles of Sociology is a bulky volume of over seven hun-
dred pages and is evidently intended to be the author's magnum
opus. We are told that he was seventeen years in gathering the
material through a first-hand study of conditions in China, Russia,
South America and the United States while three and one half years
were occupied with the actual writing of the book. The book shows
those qualities that made for the success of Professor Ross's earlier
works, namely, marvellous Belesenheit, a wealth of interesting illus-
trative material amassed by a keen and far-traveled observer, a zeal
for facts combined with a phobia for the philosophical and a style
which in journalistic vividness hardly attains the level of earlier
works such as Sin and Society.
BOOK REVIEWS 217
William James, in a striking characterization of Herbert Spen-
cer's philosophy, calls "his whole system wooden, as if knocked
together out of cracked hemlock boards and yet the half of Eng-
land wants to bury him in "Westminster Abbey. Why? " Because
"the noise of facts resounds through all his chapters" (Pragmatism,
p. 39f.). Ross like Spencer is factually minded. He is most skilful,
hi selecting striking, interesting and apposite illustrations. If bare,
brutal, unvarnished facts could settle all moot questions Professor
Ross would be the most convincing of writers, for he is primarily
an eager, earnest, indefatigable and for the most part unprejudiced
chronicler of social facts as he sees them. He makes small demand
upon either the history of thought or the implications of social evolu-
tion for the interpretation of these facts. Groups, social forces,
class conflicts, social processes are studied as they present themselves
in contemporary society. Professor Ross's "system of sociology,"
in so far as it can be traced, is composed of generalizations deduced
from present-day and for the most part American society. Facts
are drawn from the treasure house of the past mainly to illustrate and
support this pragmatic interpretation of the present. The result
is that Professor Ross is forced to adopt in many instances short-
handed not to say dogmatic solutions of moot questions. The ab-
sence of any comprehensive principle of interpretation likewise places
the writer more or less at the mercy of the welter of factual details.
This appears in the tendency to multiply social principles and proc-
esses. Part three, which contains two thirds of the book, enumer-
ates some thirty-odd distinct social processes which are discussed
in as many chapters.
The book seeks to be comprehensive. Professor Ross tells us that
his work contains "a system of sociology" where "system" is used in
the philosophical sense of "a way of making some aspect of reality
intelligible." The book acquires an ethical flavor when the writer
avows "an over-mastering purpose and that is to better human
relations." We detect the note of the social reformer when it is
claimed that the book is "intended to help people to arrive at wise
decisions as to social policies." The main object of the author
however is undoubtedly to present a scientific account of the facts
of society. Now all these phases of sociology are important and
naturally enlist the interest of students. But from the point of
view of methodology the uncritical intermingling of them in a
treatise on sociology can hardly further the scientific phase of the
subject. In any young and growing science such as sociology it is
easy to pass from the role of scientist to that of moralist or of social
reformer but the effect is confusing. There is possibly a place for
218 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
a comprehensive work on sociology that would give us a synthesis
rather than a fusion of these points of view. It is conceivable that
a part of such a work could be devoted to the critical and scientific
presentation of the facts, another to the theoretical interpretation
of these facts either from the metaphysical or the ethical point of
view, and still another to suggestions for the social reformer as to
the effective combination of fact and ideal in programmes for social
betterment. But it is difficult to see how sociology is ever to become
a science without keeping clearly in mind the differences between
these phases of the subject.
Professor Ross's comprehensive and suggestive book is a fusion
rather than a synthesis of social fact, social theory and social
reform. The result is that strict justice is hardly done in the book
to either one of these phases of the subject. Let us consider for a
moment Ross's place in and his contribution to social theory. This
book is the culmination of years of study, embodying the mature
conclusions of a scholar of encyclopedic learning and wide experience,
yet it adds little or nothing to the theory of society though claiming
to be "a system of sociology." There are to be sure abundant
evidences that Professor Ross has in the background of his thought,
though implicit and fragmentary, the makings of a philosophy of
society. But this "system" contains little not found in his contempo-
raries or predecessors. For Ross, together with the majority of Amer-
ican sociologists, leans towards a voluntaristic conception of society as
opposed to the intellectualism of Comte and the biological material-
ism of Spencer. To be sure earlier writers such as Ward and Gid-
dings were profoundly influenced by Spencer but drew away from
him towards a more voluntaristic point of view. Ward, who was the
dean of American sociologists, broke with Spencer when he insisted
that the state, which to Spencer was anathema, is the brain of society
and conceived of sociology as the science dealing primarily with the
evolution of the social will. For Giddings society is not, as Spencer
asserted, an organism but an organization of a number of individuals
who by virtue of their "like-mindedness" embody a common will.
But neither Ward nor Giddings quite emancipated themselves from
Spencer's influence. Ward, who brought to sociology the training
and mental attitude of the paleobotanist, found "almost as many
parallels between social and chemical processes as there are between
sociology and biology" (Pure Sociology, p. 71), while Giddings was
wedded to the materialistic monism of Spencer. "All social energy"
he tells us, "is transmuted physical energy . . . the original causes
of social evolution are the processes of physical equilibration which
are seen in the integration of matter and the dissipation of motion"
BOOK REVIEWS 219
(Giddings, Principles of Sociology, pp. 363f.). A decided impetus
towards a more psychological and voluntaristic conception of society
was given by Professor Small with his doctrine of interests suggested
by Ratzenhofer. To resolve all social forces back into interests, as
does Small, to find in interests the clue to social evolution and the
key to social problems is to plant sociology firmly upon a psycho-
logical and voluntaristic basis. Civilization thus becomes synony-
mous with socialization, culture a matter of the disciplining of elemen-
tary human nature rather than of the conquest of natural forces. Out
of these basic ' ' interests ' ' arise the social ends that condition society
and social progress becomes a matter of the criticism, the evaluation
and the realization of these ends. It is thus a distinct contribution
on the part of Professor Small to have introduced the idea of value
into sociology and in particular to have stressed the intimate connec-
tion between sociology and ethics. Small's contribution suffers how-
ever from the vagueness inseparable from the idea of interest, a term
too broad, too many-sided and too unscientific to provide a satisfac-
tory basis for the science of sociology, a fact which Small seems to
recognize in his later work The Meaning of Social Science, where
interest is no longer emphasized.
Professor Ross, with his facile pen, his large reading public and
his wide learning, is admirably equipped to give final formulation to
the drift of sociological thought in this country. He is
evidently in sympathy with these voluntaristic and psy-
chological tendencies in American Sociology. "The immediate
causes of social phenomena," he says, "are to be soughs
in human minds . . . nothing is gained by viewing them as a mani-
festation of cosmic energy" (p. 41). Following McDougall, he
finds that the instincts "are the mental forces which maintain and
shape all the life of individuals and of societies" (p. 42). The
instincts or "original social forces" give rise to "derivative social
forces" or "interests." We look in vain in the work however for
an elaboration of these suggestions into anything bearing a re-
semblance to a philosophy of society, nor do we find such a system
in Ross's other works. In the discussion of the genesis of society
(ch. ix), for example, we would expect some attempt to point out
the relation of the social forces of instinct and interest to the dif-
ferentiation of the social process into groups. (Professor Ell wood
has done this in suggestive fashion in his Sociology in its Psycho-
logcal Aspects, Ch. VII, "The Origin of Society"). This Ross
does not attempt and thus leaves us without any adequate explana-
tion of the why or the how of the vast proliferations that have
characterized the social process from its very inception. Owing to
220 JOURNAL OF PUlLOSOPll Y
this distrust of the speculative and theoretical and in spite of the
imposing array of terms and principles to describe social phenom-
ena the book often gives the impression that we are still dealing
with the impulses, contacts and interests of individuals. The writer
fails to impress upon the reader that there is a social as opposed
to an individual reality, as is done so skilfully in the works of
Cooley. Even in the last part, devoted to "sociological principles,"
these principles are merely generalizations drawn from the facts.
There is little attempt to relate these principles to each other or
to a general voluntaristic point of view. The discussion of "Antici-
pation" (ch. 44), for example, a characterization of the growing
purposefulness of society, is obviously related to the teleological
implications of the basic social forces of instinct and interest and
yet no attempt is made to indicate this relation. The last principle
of "Balance" (ch. 47), defined as follows: "In the guidance of
society each social element should share according to the intelli-
gence and public spirit of its members and none should dominate"
(p. 693), is a meaningless truism without further light as to our
ideal of what society should be. This unwillingness to think things
through even at the risk of landing in philosophy makes the book
often tedious reading in spite of its wealth of concrete and piquant
details.
Ross's Principles of Sociology will hardly take its place as a
permanent contribution to social theory, it will hardly be in de-
mand as a compendium of social facts scientifically arranged nor
yet as a handbook for the reformer, though philosopher, scientist
and reformer may find here both information and inspiration. The
book will be prized for its wealth of information, its suggestive in-
sights into phases of social reality and its vivid style. It is a ques-
tion, however, whether Professor Ross's fame will not be furthered
less by this bulky volume than by his earlier more incisive if less
ambitious writings such as Social Control, Sin and Society and
Changing America. It may be that his most lasting contribution
will not be as a social philosopher but rather as the brilliant ana-
lyst of a changing world order and the fearless castigator of our
modern high-power sinners.
JOHN M. MECKLIN.
DARTMOUTH COLLEGE.
General Principle of Relativity: H. W. GARB. London: Macmillan
&Co. 1920.
Space and Time in Contemporary Physics: MORITZ SCHLICK. Trans-
lated by H. L. Brose. Oxford University Press. 1920.
BOOK REVIEWS 221
On Gravitation and Relativity: R. A. SAMPSON. (The Halley Lec-
ture.) Oxford University Press. 1920.
Carr states in his preface that he deals only with the philosophical
and historical aspects of the principle of relativity (the main ideas
were developed in a course of lectures on "Historical Theories of
Space, Time and Movement," delivered at King's College in the spring
of 1920) ; but in fact, as one reads the book, one finds that a large
proportion of it is actually devoted to an exposition, of course in
popular language, of the mathematical and physical aspects of the
Einstein theory, mainly the special theory of relativity.
This exposition is well written, but it will hardly make the theory
clear to a reader who is not already familiar with it ; and a number
of actual misstatements can be pointed out. On page 35 it is stated
that "in an infinite series no two members are next one another,
for between any two there is always another." This is stated as a
general proposition and of course is not true; some infinite sets
have next members like the series of integers. Others do not enjoy
this property like the continuum of points of a line.
On page 138 the author is evidently confused by the concept of
event, since he talks about an infinite set of events as if it were a
single event, which is just as bad as not differentiating between a
single point and a curve.
The statement on page 77 dealing with the Einstein principle of
equivalence refers merely to the trivial fact that when A moves to-
ward B, B may be regarded as moving toward A; the true principle
in fact has nothing to do with the special theory of relativity but
deals with the connection between gravitation fields and acceleration
fields.
The best part of the book is the historical accounts of "Atoms
and the Voids" in Chapter 3 and of the "Vortex Theory" in Chap-
ter 4, precisely the parts that have least to do with Einstein.
The general theory of relativity which is at the basis of Einstein's
solution of the problem of gravitation is hardly touched on by the
author in spite of the title of the book. The concepts of curvilinear
coordinates, curvature, and tensor, can not be grasped without
a good deal of serious mathematical thinking, and without them it is
impossible to understand the Einstein theory.
The last chapter of Carr is entitled "In What Sense is the Uni-
verse Infinite ? " It does not make clear the fundamental fact that we
must distinguish between the infinity of space and the unbounded-
ness of space. This essential point is very well presented in the ninth
chapter of Schlick's book (a chapter added to the second edition).
Another fine chapter of Schlick's deals with the "Inseparability of
Geometry and Physics in Experience." On page 73, however, the
222 .KH'RNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
reader is left entirely in th<- dark as to tin 1 di>tim-tion between spher-
ical and elliptical spaces. If the reader relys on etymology or what he
has picked up in elementary college mathematics, he is bound to
have an entirely false impression of the true state of affairs and
Schlick's discussion will not help him out of his difficulty. Schlick
goes much further than Can* in both mathematics and physics, but
neither goes far enough to reach a clear statement of Einstein's law of
gravitation.
Sampson's brief lecture is more interesting for its classical quo-
tations and sarcastic point of view than for the light it throws on
Einstein.
For the philosopher who wishes to get in closer contact with
relativity, the reviewer would recommend Einstein's popular
book, Eddington's Space, Time and Oravitation, and Bern's Rela-
tivitatstheorie Einsteins. For the mathematical reader, who wishes
to reach the fundamentals, there is no rival to Weyl's Raum, Zeit,
Materie, which has not yet been translated into English. (Weyl and
Eddington have now been translated into French, with valuable ad-
ditional material.) The most interesting exposition of Einstein
written by a philosopher, is that contained in Viscount Haldane's
new book, The Reign of Relativity, his attitude toward mathematics
being finely expressed as follows:
"What I have ventured to say must be taken as pretending to
record no more than it does, the impressions of a non-mathematician
about what the mathematicians are saying to each other when they
enter the borderland of philosophy and speak about it among them-
selves. The impression is that of a stranger in whose presence they
talk, but who, although keenly interested in learning from them, is
but imperfectly acquainted with a language which to them is one
of second nature. They may, therefore, be gentle with him if his
accent seems strange and his capacity to do justice to their words
appears inadequate. His reason for listening and in his turn making
comments does not appear to be an irrelevant one. They are in a
territory that is occupied in common, and forbearance on both
sides is therefore necessary. I do not believe that the fundamental
conceptions are as obscure as some of the mathematicians take them
to be. The reason they seem so is that they are concerned with mat-
ters which involve consideration of a more than merely mathematical
character. For the rest I am not lacking in admiration for the
splendid power of the instruments the mathematicians possess, and
the wonderful results they have achieved with them; instruments
which impress me not the less because it is beyond my powers to
wield them." EDWARD KASXEB.
COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY.
JOURNALS AND NEW BOOKS 223
JOURNALS AND NEW BOOKS
THE AMERICAN JOURNAL OF PSYCHOLOGY. October,
1921. The Stimulus Error (pp. 449-471) : EDWIN G. BORING -Re-
cent researches have shown that the observational attitude toward the
stimulus may lead to equivocal correlations of stimulus and response
that are unscientific. In the two-point limen experiments the use
of introspective data is advocated. The Illusory Perception of Move-
ment on the Skin (pp. 472-489) : ANNA KEELMAN WHITCHURCH.-
The perception of cutaneous movement was obtained by the succes-
sive stimulation of two separate points with optimum results for
durations of 150 sigma and an interval of 100 sigma. Some Quali-
tative Aspects of Bitonal Complexes (pp. 490-518) : CARROLL C.
PRATT.-After a defining of smooth, simple, complex, homi-sonorous-
ness and other terms used in describing bitonal presentations, agree-
ment was noted in the reports on the octave, fifth, fourth, tritone,
sevenths and seconds, while there was much divergence for the thirds
and sixths. On Arterial Expansion (pp. 516-518) : G. N. HARTMAN
AND D. L. McDoNOUGH.-The combination of the sphygmomanometer
with the plethysmograph appears to give a better determination of
arterial elasticity than does the present medical clinical method.
Functional Psychology and Psychology of Act (pp. 518-542) : E. B.
TiTCHENER.-Functional Psychology has its roots in the Aristotelian
empiricism and has taken on color from many of the related sciences
without adopting the modern conception of science. Church History
and Psychology of Religion (pp. 543-551) : PIERCE BuTLER.-Modern
psychology, if it were more descriptive, could be of great service to
religious history. The religious genius, his disciples, and the ad-
herents to the system, all need psychological study. Death-Psychol-
ogy of Historical Personages (pp. 552-556) : ARTHUR MAcDoNALD.-
The fear of death disappears as death comes on. 794 death-bed ex-
periences are tabulated and described. Minor Studies from the
Psychological Laboratory of Tale University. An Experiment in
Time Estimation Using Different Interpolations (pp. 556-562) :
LLEWELLYN T SpENCER.-Reproduction gives more accurate results
than a statement in terms of standard unit. Minor Studies from the
Psychological Laboratory of Cornell University. The Involuntary
Response to Pleasantness (pp. 563-570) : G. H. CoRWiN.-Pleasant
stimuli produce relaxation with a certain degree of expansion and
pursuit on their withdrawal when intensely pleasant. The Integra-
tion of Punctiform Warmth and Pain (pp. 571-574) : R. S. MAL-
aruD.-Warmth and pressure may fuse but this fusion never gives
the impression of wetness. Book Reviews (pp. 575-587) : Wilhelm
224 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
\\ViiuIt. Erlcbtcs und Erkanntes. E. B. T. L'amne psychologique :
H. P. W. Margarete Hamburger, Vom Organismus der Sprache und
von der Sprache des Dichters. Zur Systematic der Sprachprobleme :
J. GLEASON. 0. Lipman, Abziihlende Methoden und ihre Verwen-
dung in <l<r psychologischen Statistic: L. B. HOISINOTON. Frank
Tannenbnum. The Labor Movement: H. G. BISHOP. Carveth Read,
The Origin of Man: W. B. PILLSBURY. Charles Pratt, The Psy-
chology of Thought and Feeling: W .B. PILLSBURY. Psychological
Periodicals. Brief reviews of the following are presented: Zeit-
schrift fiir Psychohgie, Bd. xxxiv-lxxxvii. Archiv fiir die gesam-
Psychologie, Bd. xxxix-xl. Psychological Review, Vol. xxvii,
Nos. 1-6, Vol. xxviii, No. 1. Notes. On the Plan of the Physiolo-
gische Psychologic : E. B. T. Experimental Psychology in Italy:
E. B. T. The Psychophysiology of the Condemned: E. B. T. Locarno-
of Insects: E. C. S. George Trumball Ladd: E. B. T. Index.
Keyser, Cassius J. Mathematical Philosophy : A Study of Fate and
Freedom. Lectures for Educated Laymen. New York: E. P.
Button & Co. 1922. Pp. 466.
NOTES AND NEWS
The first volume of a series of translations and reprints, to be
known as Psychology Classics, will shortly appear. The series is to
be edited by Knight Dunlap, and published' by the Williams &
Wilkins Company in Baltimore. The first volume, which is now in
press, contains a translation, by Miss Istar A. Haupt, of Lange's
monograph on The Emotions, with reprintings of James's article
"What is an Emotion?" from Mind, and his chapter on "The F.mo-
tions" from the Principles of Psychology. In order to facilitate
the preparation of future translations and reprints, the royalti-'s
from these volumes, together with an equal amount contributed by
the Williams & Wilkins Company, will be deposited with the Treas-
urer of the Johns Hopkins University, the fund so constituted to
be used solely for the defraying of clerical and other necessary
expenses of such preparation. The editor requests suggestions con-
cerning future volumes, and cooperation in their production.
Professor William Ernest Hocking, Alford professor of natural
religion, moral philosophy and civil polity, and Professor Alfred
Marston Tozzer, professor of anthropology, have been appointed the
professors from Harvard University for the second half of the year
1922-23 under the exchange agreement between Harvard and the
Western Colleges.
VOL. XIX, No. 9 APRIL 27, 1922
THE JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
THE IMPLICIT DUALITY OF THINKING
TN psychology as in politics it often happens that the dust of con-
flict obscures the fact that the contending parties hold doctrines
in common which are more important than the points at which they
differ. Such is the case in the problem of the origin of thinking.
All parties to the controversy can be brought to agree on a matter
which dwarfs the issue between them, but which has received only
scattering recognition. Whether the basis of thought is in images,
or in conflicting motor responses, or in language reactions, the fact
remains that thinking is always implicitly dual, and that this implicit
duality of thinking ought to be taken into account in every philo-
sophical world-view.
I
It is not difficult to bring this out if one takes the view that
thinking is essentially a process of relations or interactions of
images the class of images being not otherwise specified. Every one
admits that perception is selective ; I perceive an object always in a
milieu, against a background. The background, while I may pay no
attention to it as such, is the indispensable condition of my seeing
the object. If at any moment I widen my field of vision, I then
include something which a moment ago belonged to the background ;
but there is at the new moment a residual or a new background,
which is the condition of my seeing what lies within the new field.
The point is, not that I actually see the background at any moment,
but that I am able to see it ; the duality is not explicit, but implicit.
We may say that at any moment I see an object, a, by reason of the
fact that I am able to see a background, not-a. Professor Sheldon
has mentioned this fact, which might serve as a psychological start-
ing-point for a metaphysical discussion of duality. As he puts it,
Human attention is selective; we fix the eye on one spot and the sur-
roundings pass more or less out of the visual field. But we do not thereby
deny the actuality of what is beyond the fringe of vision. We ignore it,
we exclude it from our sight, but there is objectively no exclusion. Here
is a matter whose importance, so far as we know, philosophers have never
recognized. They are wont to justify their exclusive partisanships by re-
225
226 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
f err ing to the narrowness of the field of attention; but they altogether
overlook the fact that this narrowness is not at all of a denying sort, but
is just an ignoring. . . .*
He does not, however, develop this into a psychological approach to
the problems of duality a line of approach which the present paper
aims to explore.
The first step, according to the view we ere now considering, is
that from perceptions to images. It is not necessary, for our pur-
poses, to become involved in the interminable discussions at this
point for, if one admits at all the existence of images, one is
obliged to admit that they are distinguished just as perceptions are
distinguished, in the midst of their attending conditions. Every
theory of attention and even of consciousness 2 implies this duality ;
the wonder is that a fact which is so plain in psychology can have
been so easily underestimated in logic and metaphysics. If we say
that thinking is a play of images, we ought to keep consistently to
the principle that every thought-image, a', implies a possibility of
thinking not-a'. But it is of course true that many now hold that
thinking ought to be described in other terms than those of a play of
images.
When one turns to these recent writers, it is not difficult to see that
for those who regard thinking as the result of a hesitation or conflict
between rival motor responses or tendencies, it must be an affair of
dualities. According to Professor Dewey, "Thinking takes its de-
parture from specific conflicts in experience that occasion perplexity
and trouble. " 8 It should be noted that it is the duality implied in
this starting-point of thinking which chiefly concerns us; Dewey
often emphasizes a duality which from our present point of view is
subordinate. Thus he says,
The conflicting situation inevitably polarizes or dichotomizes itself.
There is somewhat which is untouched in the contention of incompatibles.
There is something which remains secure, unquestioned. On the other
hand, there are elements which are rendered doubtful and precarious.
This gives the framework of the general distribution of the field into
" facts," the given, the presented, the Datum ; and ideas, the ideal, the con-
ceived, the Thought.*
Such a dichotomy may be developed in each of the rival tendencies,
in the course of the "location and definition" 5 of the "felt diffi-
i Strife of Systems and Productive Duality (1918), pp. 475-476.
Jan*w, Principles of Psychology (1890), VoL I, p. 139.
Beoonttruction in Philosophy (1920), p. 138.
* Studies in Logical Theory (1903), p. 50.
How We Think (1910), ch. VI.
THE IMPLICIT DUALITY OF THINKING 227
culty," or the "development by reasoning of the bearings of the
suggestion. ' ' But the fundamental duality is found in the fact that
diverse anticipated ends may provoke divided and competing present re-
actions; the organism may be torn between different courses, each inter-
fering with the completion of the other. This intra-organic pulling and
hauling, this strife of active tendencies is a genuine phenomenon. 6
Thinking thus conies to be viewed as a special case of the inhibition
of certain reflexes by other antagonistic reflexes.
This condition of implicit duality is not essentially altered if
one adopts the view of Professor Watson that thinking is a result
of language habits, although, owing to later substitutions, it need
not always take place in terms of words ; 7 for language itself in-
volves an act of selective attention on the part of the speaker, and
an attempt to secure an act of selective attention on the part of a
listener. Its motivation, from the animal cry all the way to the
most highly developed type of discourse, is the partial or complete
transfer of a selective adjustment from one member of a group to
another member or other members. In its developed forms its
function is often to throw the weight of the speaker's experience
to one or another of the competing tendencies of the listener.
Articulate language, and above all the language of philosophical
discussion, differs so much from animal cries that it is easy to lose
sight of inherent limitations of this kind ; but detailed consideration
of these differences shows, we think, that these limitations persist.
The first difference between animal cries and articulate language is
in the fact that in the latter parts of speech have been developed,
and expression is in the form of more or less complete sentences.
This development, in the sub-human and human groups, can be
reconstructed with a good deal of plausibility if one pictures a
progressive series of separations from the objects which are of
interest to the groups and the actions in which the groups are en-
gaged. For the animal group, we may suppose that the objects and
actions are present, and factors of immediate experience. When
the objects are thus present, and actions upon them are in the atten-
tion of every member of the group, there is no need of an elaborate
language reaction ; if any sound at all is required to reinforce ges-
tures, it is sufficient to give the sound corresponding to that which
in a human group would be known to us as an interjection, a demon-
strative pronoun, or an imperative. 8 We may suppose, further, that
Essays in Experimental Logic (1916), p. 366. Italics mine.
7 Behavior (1914), ch X.
s In this and the preceding paragraph I am under some obligation to Pro-
fessor Pierre Janet, whose very suggestive lectures I heard in 1912.
228 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
sometimes while the object is still present, attention is to be directed
to it in some specific way, or that while the action is still current,
it is to be modified without being terminated ; these situations would
call forth signs corresponding to our adjectives and adverbs. Some-
where here, we suppose, is one of the differences between sub-human
and human groups the latter are of course able to react much more
easily to this type of situation. The difference is still more marked
in the next type to be considered, in which the object is absent or
out of attention, or the action has given place to some other action ;
the object must now be named, or the action specified hence the
appearance in language of nouns and verbs. In some such way, we
may suppose, the primitive tendencies which issue as cries are ex-
panded into articulated sentences. The sentence is "the significant
unit of language," 9 and results from the discharge of a nervous
reflex. But nothing in the structure of a grammatical sentence
does away with the original implicit duality. We may say that
every sentence of the simple types thus far considered is spoken as
the result of a selective adjustment or conflict of tendencies, and
has the effect of a transfer of tendencies from a speaker to a listener.
Language for us consists principally of sentences containing nouns,
verbs, adjectives and adverbs, the status of which is not changed
when they are called by their logical names of terms, relations and
qualities.
Other differences between the sentences used by primitive men
and those used at the later stages of culture are found in the facts
that the later stages are marked by abstractions, generalizations, and
the metaphorical use of terms. An abstraction may be defined as the
use of a term in something less than its full complement of qualities
or relations, or the use of a quality or relation apart from its term.
Generalization is, as Dewey says, the positive side of the same func-
tion ; 10 it is the use of a term, or relation, or quality, in a setting
other than that from which it was derived, and often with an im-
plicit reference which goes beyond any setting that has been speci-
fied. The metaphorical use of terms involves the substitution of
one group of relations for another group, often only remotely re-
sembling the first. All these processes are variations in the use of
terms, relations, and qualities, but they do not affect the funda-
mental conditions by which terms, relations, and qualities become
evident to us.
According to Dewey a false abstractionism results when the func-
Cf. B. Bosaaqnet, Logic (1888), VoL I, p. 40.
10 Seconttruction in Philosophy (1920), p. 151.
THE IMPLICIT DUALITY OF THINKING 229
tion of the detached fragments is forgotten. 11 "We should add that
a still more fundamental route to a false abstractionism would be to
forget the function of the language reflex and the thinking 1 process,
and that any attempt to perform an abstraction which removes the
content of our thinking from the conditions of implicit duality in
which it originates is false because, regardless of its content, it re-
mains in origin and form still subject to the conditions which it
attempts to deny.
More misleading even than false abstractions are the false general-
izations which often seem, and sometimes profess, to remove the
content of our thinking from the conditions of implicit duality. It
is true that generalizations often have a reference which extends
indefinitely beyond the settings in which they originate or are em-
ployed. There may be no fixed limit to the applications of general-
izations about redness, for example, or justice. But the very condi-
tion of generalizing at all is that one is able to contrast redness with
not-redness, or justice with not- justice; and the only thoroughly
valid generalizations are those that recognize the fundamental im-
portance of such contrasts. It is by this recognition that general-
izations like the law of contradiction and the principle of the implicit
duality of thinking are able to save themselves from the criticism
which they are entitled to make of other notions.
It is obvious that the remaining difference, as above noted, be-
tween primitive and highly developed language, namely, the meta-
phorical use of terms, with its substitution of one group of relations
for another, is a secondary rather than a primary process, and has
to do with variations of the content of sentences or judgments rather
than with their form. "We may say, then, that the more highly
developed language reactions, like the primitive language reactions,
conform to the principle of implicit duality. There is some ques-
tion as to whether thinking originates in language reactions; but
there is no question that much of our most significant thinking pro-
ceeds in language forms. The point for us is that whatever portion
of our thinking takes place in language forms may be regarded as
implicitly dual; and summing up now all that has been said up
to this point that whether the language reaction theory or any other
theory of the origin of thinking now current is adopted, the same
result as regards implicit duality is reached.
II
The generalization with which we are now concerned is to the
effect that, if what is implicit in them were made explicit, all state-
ma., p. 150.
JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
ments would be reduced to the form "a' as against not-a'." Rec-
ognition of this principle would modify a number of ideas employed
in philosophical discussions, both of the past and present; to some
of these ideas we now turn.
The first point to notice is that at any particular moment there
are marked differences between a' and not-a'. They may be said to
be mutually exclusive although this statement may have to be
qualified later, when more adequate account is taken of the work of
Sheldon. 13 For our present purposes it will suffice to say that no
matter how trivial in content the term a' may be, it, together with
not-a', exhausts the possibilities of the universe. Sometimes the
contrast between the two terms cuts through the midst of our ex-
perience, as when, for example, we say "life" and "not-life," or
"true" and "not-true." At other times the contrast between the
two terms marks the very limits of knowledge it is in fact only
another way of saying that our knowledge is limited. The most
picturesque example of the limits of our knowledge is one which is
sometimes mentioned in more or less popular writings on astronomy,
when one attempts to say what lies outside the universe which
astronomy investigates. The answer is, the Beyond. Now of such
a Beyond we know nothing, except that it is there and the term
"nothing" is a synonym for such "there-ness." "Nothing" does
not mean the absence of everything, nor even the absence of every-
thing relevant to the subject of interest or discussion ; for the pres-
ence and relevance of things not otherwise taken into account is,
according to the principle of the duality of thinking, basic and in-
dispensable. Another way of stating the principle would be to say
that everything is present, and relevant. Nor is "nothing" es-
sentially the sign of a substitution, 18 nor of the absence of a sought-
for reality whenever we find the presence of another ; 14 these are but
special cases, in which the limits of knowledge, more or less self-
imposed, are capable of being extended at the next moment. "Noth-
ing" is, in general, whether one is dealing with the limits of thinking
or not, the term which denotes that at any moment there are some
conditions which remain, at least until the next moment, unanalyzed.
It is the term for the that-ness which at any moment excludes what-
ness for external relations which at any moment exclude internal
relations. We may point to it, but we can not analyze it, nor can
we discuss it except in negatives. For us it is denotative, and not
connotative.
i Strife of Systems, Chapters XII and XIII.
iH. Bergaon, Creative Evolution, tr. Mitchell (1911), p. 283.
" Ibid., p. 273.
THE IMPLICIT DUALITY OF THINKING 231
One can say of Kant, without intending any disrespect, that
his Ding an Sich was the limiting ease of "nothing."
We can not understand the possibility of such noumena, and whatever
lies beyond the sphere of phenomena is (to us) empty. . . . The concept
of a noumenon is, therefore, merely limitative and intended to keep the
claims of sensibility within proper bounds ; therefore it is of negative use
only. But it is not a mere arbitrary fiction, but closely connected with the
limitation of sensibility, though incapable of adding anything positive to
the sphere of the senses. . . . Our understanding thus acquires a kind of
negative extension. ... In doing this it immediately proceeds to pre-
scribe limits to itself by admitting that it can not know these noumena
by means of the categories but can only think of them under the name
of something unknown. 1 *
And recognition of the principle of the implicit duality of thinking,
with its contrast of connotative and denotative knowledge, would
account for later attempts to approach the Absolute, the Uncondi-
tioned and the Unknowable, although it would not necessarily justify
the detailed construction of such systems. In particular, as here
presented, it avoids the duality of subject and object.
Of contemporary writers the one who is most at variance with the
idea of "nothing" as above treated is Professor Bradley. Al-
though forced, by what we should interpret as the working of the
principle of implicit duality of thinking, to make a distinction be-
tween truth and reality, Bradley maintains that in reality this
duality eventually disappears. Truth differs from reality in that,
for the former, "there remains always something outside and other
than the predicate, so the predicate may be called conditional." 16
But reality is not subjected to any such outstanding condition for
any added reality would be simply "more of the same." 17 "An
outlying field is here unmeaning. ' ' 18
Since our positive knowledge is here all-embracing, it can rest on noth-
ing external. Outside this knowledge there is not so much as an empty
space in which our impotence could fall. . . . The opposite of reality is
not privation but absolute nothingness. 19
Once more :
It is senseless to attempt to go beyond [the known area of the uni-
verse] and to assume fields which lie outside the ultimate nature of real-
ity. If there were any reality quite beyond our knowledge we could in
IB Critique of Pure Season, tr. Midler (1915), pp. 208-209.
IB Appearance and Reality (1893), p. 544.
" Ibid., p. 536.
isj&id., p. 537.
" Ibid., p. 537.
232 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
no sense be aware of it; and if we were quite ignorant of it we could
hardly suggest that our ignorance conceals it And thus in the end what
we know and what is real must be coextensive and assuredly outside of
this nothing is possible. 20
The principle of implicit duality of thinking, if applied in criticism
of Bradley, would indicate that there is a difference between false con-
tradictions and true ones; the latter are those based upon the dis-
tinction between the connotative and the denotative components of
our knowledge. When this distinction is recognized, it is seen that
ignorance is not at all inconsistent with awareness, and that an
"outlying field" is anything but unmeaning. "We may even admit
that our positive knowledge rests upon "nothing external," but we
regard this expression as a true substantive, and as the equivalent
of a "something external" which is not otherwise specified. We
should say that there may at any time be additions to our world;
but to go further, and say that they will be "more of the same"
would be to apply connotative standards gratuitously and arbitrarily
to what as yet we know only denotatively.
Of all the attempts made to qualify the realms beyond the limits
of knowledge, one of the most common is found in the term "in-
finite." It will be remembered to what formidable length Royce
built up from Dedekind's conception of the infinite, his argument
that the Absolute is self-representing. 21 Sheldon has shown that
when infinity is thus taken to be that which can be put into one-one
correspondence with its own part,
the only reason why the part has always enough in it to furnish a cor-
respondent for every new element discovered in the whole is that the part
itself has an endless (i.e., infinite) number of elements. . . . The notion
of ... ever new elements to draw upon in order to eke out the corre-
spondence is not deduced from the notion of correspondence. 22
Sheldon goes on to explain the contradiction in terms of the indispen-
sable duality of internal and external relations ; it seems to us, how-
ever, that discussions of the infinite which imply duality may be
stated more simply if put not so much in logical, as in psychological
terms. Perhaps the degree to which psychological elements persist
in the term "infinite" is not always adequately recognized.
From a psychological standpoint it would be plain that an in-
finite regress is not to be identified with regress to an infinite ; the
first expression refers essentially to an effort or a progress, the
second to its completion. But the infinite is not the final term of a
o ibid., p. 516.
si The World and the Individual, First Series (1900), p. 510 ff.
Strife of Syttems, p. 431.
THE IMPLICIT DUALITY OF THINKING 233
series ; it is a word used either to describe the act of proceeding in a
series or to indicate the fact that the proceeding has been abandoned
when it might have been continued. When it is used to describe the
act of proceeding in a series, it is synonymous with the word "in-
definite," or "indefinitely"; an example is seen when the infinite of
the calculus is regarded as ' ' the large-at-will, ' ' or the infinitesimal as
"the small-at-will" both of which definitions show how much of
psychology adheres to mathematics at these points.
Sometimes the word "infinite" is used in another way, so that it
is more easily mistaken for a term ; this confusion seems to be involved
in the work of Dedekind and the argument of Royce. What actually
happens is perhaps more understandable if stated psychologically.
Let us say then that there is a progress, sustained for a longer or a
shorter period, from one member of a series to the next in a given
order, and so on. But in the nature of the case such ordered prog-
ress will not be followed out forever; sooner or later one will have
other things to do, or one will simply become tired of the monotonous
repetition, and abandon it. One indicates that such an abandonment
has occurred, by using the term "infinite"; it is the sign that one
does not care to pursue the detailed series any farther, at least for
the present, but that the series may be pursued farther if it is desir-
able later on. Since the word "infinite" implies that the operation
may be resumed, it is easy to confuse it, in a realm where ' ' one does
not care, ' ' with a term marking the resumption, or even the comple-
tion of the series. To say that in the number series the whole may be
put into one-one correspondence with one of its parts, is really to
say that two series, about the precise extent of both of which one
does not care, may be conveniently assumed to be equal in number of
terms ; but, in a realm where one does not care, any number of other
assumptions are equally legitimate.
In other words, the problem of the infinite, like the principle
of the implicit duality of thinking, may be approached from the
psychological side; and when thus approached, it may be seen that
the two are essentially only different ways of stating the same thing,
or describing the same fundamental condition. The finite is a con-
notative, and the infinite is a denotative concept. Anything which is
a matter of connotative knowledge we can, if allowance is made for
the imperfections of our methods and attainments, analyze and
discuss and develop with some show of results ; but anything which
is a matter of denotative knowledge we can only indicate, or point
toward, or qualify by its negative reference to that which is familiar
and near at hand. This division of knowledge into connotative and
234 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
denotative might be turned to account if there were any call to
multiply the literature on the Zenonian puzzles or the Kantian antin-
omies. According to Professor Montague, "most great antinomies
turn on a situation in which the finite as given in perception clashes
with the infinite as demanded by conception"; 2 ' we might modify
this statement to say that the infinite is less often demanded by con-
ception than implied by both perception and conception.
We may mention briefly one antinomy which seems particularly
amenable to treatment in terms of the principle of implicit duality
this is the one which concerns the notions of beginning and ending.
Beginning and ending are correlative terms, like parent and child
one always implies the other. A beginning of anything is always the
ending of something else, and vice versa. The terms are used to
mark at any moment the point of contact of our connotative and our
denotative knowledge. Sometimes these limits are fixed by the im-
perfections of our senses or instruments; sometimes they are fixed
by convenience, or the interplay of our interests. There is a dis-
tinction between our connotative and our denotative knowledge in
the fact that of the former we may know both beginnings and end-
ings; of the latter we may know either beginnings or endings, but
not both. This is only another way of saying that our connotative
knowledge is essentially finite while our denotative knowledge is,
in the proper sense of the term, essentially infinite.
Ill
Let us note very .briefly some of the consequences for logic of a
view such as the foregoing. Sheldon has emphasized, from the point
of view of a dualistic system, the ambiguity in the use of the word
"not," which sometimes means the relation of otherness or exclusion
between terms, sometimes the denial of a suggested judgment. 24 I
hope to work out a point or two in this connection in a later paper.
The chief point to be noted now is that the law of contradiction
ought to be stated in terms of exclusion as well as of denial, and
ought to be stated positively as well as negatively. We should say
not merely, "It is impossible for the same thing both to be a, and
not to be a," or "a is not not-o," but also, "a is known to be a" or
even, "a is a" "by reason of its exclusion of not-a."
Another consequence for logic follows from the fundamental
relativism of the dualistic view. It is that any so-called logical
universal has an essentially limited reference, and that, strictly
The Antinomy and its Implications for Logical Theory, in Studies in the
History of Ideas (1918), p. 239.
Strife of Systems, p. 471.
THE IMPLICIT DUALITY OF THINKING 235
speaking, the only universals which are valid throughout the whole
range of our experience are those which allow for the fact of duality.
IV
In conclusion, let us indicate very briefly some of the effects
which a recognition of the principle of the implicit duality of think-
ing might be expected to exercise upon some of the philosophies cur-
rent at the present time. It is obvious that recognition of the prin-
ciple would modify the arguments of absolute idealism in the
direction of relativism; there is one idealistic argument, or pre-
supposition, which we should expect would be particularly affected.
This is the point which is perhaps most vital in absolute ideal-
ism that reality and experience are coincident. 25 According to
the view here put forward, this point might at least in a sense be
granted, but without leading to the consequences which the absolute
idealists draw from it. In other words, if our experience can be
thought of as denotative as well as connotative, we may say that
reality and experience are coincident, but that there is no need of
going beyond our experience to an Absolute experience. One may
here quote Eoyce against Boyce :
That all differences rest upon an underlying unity ... is the very
thesis which ... we are trying to make more concrete. ... In knowing
Asia, I, in some sense, already know these other objects. Even now, I, in
some sense, mean them all. Whoever denies this, after all, by implication,
affirms it. 26
The principle of the implicit duality of thinking might be said to
have much in common with pragmatism, because it provides room,
in the region of denotative knowledge, for indefinite growth. That
which is known only denotatively is always at hand to be transformed
into that which is known connotatively no one need weep for more
worlds to conquer. The principle need not be thought of as intro-
ducing a cleft in reality, for such a cleft as it introduces is constantly
shifting, and, normally, shifting in an outward direction.
The duality is, as Sheldon has it, productive, and creative. It makes
possible a growing cosmos, and growing men.
Taken in connection with neo-realism, the principle of the implicit
duality of thinking would help to emphasize how many and how
varied are the things which subsist, but to which nothing in the
objective world, so far as we know, corresponds. Thinking proceeds
by conflicts, antagonisms, inhibitions, repressions; and the mind is
* Cf. Boyoe, The Conception of God (1902), p. 30 ff., and The Beligious
Aspect of Philosophy (1885), p. 339.
**The World and the Individual, Second Series (1908), pp. 56-57.
236 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
the most marvellous of all kaleidoscopes. It may even be that these
subsistential things are of more importance than the term "repres-
sion" indicates; they may, as for the Freudians, drag the whole mind
in their direction, or, as for Professor Santayana, impart to the
whole the dimension of ideality.
Any dualistic view is of course a step away from monism, and
in the direction of pluralism ; and, on the other hand, it is noticeable
that a good deal of so-called pluralism is not inconsistent with a
fundamental dualism.
One of the most important consequences of the recognition of the
principle of the implicit duality of thinking would be that it would
make it easier than it has sometimes been made for any one so dis-
posed to point to the limitations, and, as one might go on to say,
the insufficiency of ordinary discursive reason, and to insist that
there must be some more direct way to reality, which avoids reason 's
implicit contradictions. Surely, one may say, the contradiction takes
place within experience; why may not experience just as easily and
just as naturally reconcile it, or transcend it ? This is the view which
leads toward intuitionism arid mysticism. Professor Bergson has
one passage which indicates that, for him, intuition might perform
such a function.
Concepts . . . generally go together in couples and represent two
contraries. There is hardly any concrete reality which can not be ob-
served from two opposing standpoints, which can not consequently be sub-
sumed under two antagonistic concepts. Hence a thesis and an antithe-
sis which we endeavor in vain to reconcile logically. . . . But from the
object, seized by intuition, we pass easily in many cases to the two con-
trary concepts; and as in that way thesis and antithesis can be seen to
spring from reality, we grasp at the same time how it is that the two are
opposed and how they are reconciled. 27
The most notable recent writer on mysticism is Professor Hocking,
who also has some passages suggesting that the world which reason
dichotomizes may be unified in a way more fundamental and ade-
quate to the needs of life. He says that contrasts disappear in wor-
ship the otherness of God and man ceases to be the whole truth of
their relationship."
Distance without fusion becomes individualistic and sterile; fusion
without distance is formless, sentimental and oppressive. We want our
living to add to its objectivity this unifying consent Consent, and that
union with the object so curiously uncommandable by direct effort, flows
through and around all our deliberate thought-work, lifting and floating
f An Introduction to Metaphysics, tr. Huhne (1912), pp. 39-40.
The Meaning of God in Human Experience (1912), p. 343.
THE IMPLICIT DUALITY OF THINKING 237
it on the tide of a more central relationship with our world. Reflective
thought, it appears, is too purposive, active, self -distinguishing, self -pre-
serving, and at the same time too individual and unfree in its result, to
do justice to the meaning of worship. 29
It should be noted that no one should expect direct results from
arguing about intuitionism and mysticism, for their presupposition
is that all arguments are indirect. And one must expect also, that
since the attempt is made in the argument to do justice to what the
discursive reason knows only as the denotative, much of the content
of such indirect arguments as are forthcoming must be negative and
even arbitrary. But at the same time the awkward predicament
which embarrasses all anti-intellectualist systems that of being
obliged to employ the intellect to formulate and communicate their
views is partially relieved by the principle of the implicit duality of
thinking, with its recognition of denotative knowledge, and its leg-
itimization of certain contradictions.
We have left until the last any connected view of the work of
Sheldon, on which we have frequently drawn, and with which we
have frequently found ourselves in agreement; the idea in leaving
the work until the last has been that in connection with it we might
mark a transition to a possible future paper. In general, Sheldon
has drawn a powerful indictment of the warring philosophies, and
has, we think, taken some very necessary steps in the direction of a
reconciliation. Among these is the recognition of duality as a meta-
physical principle. But his applications and illustrations, it seems
to us, need careful scrutiny. Any relation between terms may be
expressed as a duality ; but the duality may in some cases be a better
example of logic than of metaphysics. Thus, the relation of an
object to its background, 80 and a subject to its attribute, 31 and a
mixture and its constituent parts, 32 and the members of a species and
their individual variations, 33 are all reducible logically to the dual
formula, although they may not represent the same metaphysical
principle, or at least their metaphysical relationships may involve
other principles. Sheldon himself recognizes that there may be other
fundamental principles ; 3 * it seems to us that at least one such prin-
ciple is that which Professor Spaulding calls ' ' creative synthesis, ' ' 35
and that this ought to be combined with the principle of duality, and
2 Ibid., p. 344.
so Strife of Systems, pp. 475-476.
si Ibid., p. 436.
32 Ibid., pp. 466, 487.
ss Ibid., p. 458 ff., 502.
s* Ibid., pp. 511, 512.
ss The New Bationalism (1918), p. 448.
238 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
perhaps one or two other principles, in an organic way, to yield a
better metaphysics. Admission of the principle of creative synthesis
in/to one's metaphysics would make relations dependent for their
character as external or internal upon the stage of development
reached thus, for example, some at least of the external relations
of atoms might become internal relations of molecules into which
the atoms were combined. This would not do away with Sheldon's
argument, but would place it in a different setting. When several
such settings for his dualities have been supplied, it may be that
reality will not appear to be so freely and arbitrarily dual as he
finds it to be. Freedom may be found to consist in the genera-
tion of new things ' rather than in the quick shifting back and forth
between the terms of a duality. 87 All this, however, lies beyond the
scope of the present paper. It is mentioned here in order to indi-
cate what seems to us to be the fact that duality, especially as evi-
denced to us in the implicit duality of thiniking, is a metaphysical
principle of prime importance, but does not by any means exhaust the
content of metaphysics.
GEORGE P. CONGER.
UNIVERSITY or MINNESOTA.
THE t OF PHYSICS
/CONSIDER the equation E==f(x, y, z, * ) when f = 0. This
\*J represents what may be called a snap shot and is supposed
to show the relation of E to a frame of reference x, y, z, at any
given instant. But what does t = mean ? "We can no more stop
time than we can stop the revolutions of the earth. The time that
we live is entirely independent of our manipulation of t. The mo-
ment we posit an instant A in time, real time has already flowed on
past A.
Let us consider the room in which we exist as our frame of
reference x, y, z. Our position in this room can be defined by cer-
tain lengths LI, L 2 , L st relative to this frame of reference. Inas-
much as we and the room move with the earth through space, our
frame of reference has a motion of course relative to some other
frame of reference away from the earth, but we ignore this motion
because it can not affect our actions and say we are at rest in the
room, meaning thereby only that there is no relative motion be-
tween us and the room which constitutes our frame of reference.
We define our position at rest by giving certain values to
Cf. ibid., p. 500.
Strife of Syttemt, pp. 474-476.
THE t OF PHYSICS 239
If 1} L 2 , L 3 , relative to the room. Now suppose we move about in the
room. This is a common real experience which we can get volun-
tarily, i.e., we can control our motion in the room. But mathe-
matically this means that we can alter, as we please, the values of
L lt L 2 , L 8 , up to the limits of the room. We can move along the
axis OX and then we can move back again to the point of depart-
ure and produce the original values of L lt L 2 , L a . This is a real
fact in experience and so the mathematical handling of L lt L 2 , L 3 ,
does represent something real in experience.
Now in mathematical physics t is treated just as we treat L;
that is, it is increased, decreased or made equal to zero. But the
important point to note, the basis of the philosophical error in
mathematical physics, is that this method of handling t does not
correspond to anything real in experience. It took time to move
along OX. When we retrace our steps in space it takes still more
time ; we can not reverse time. When we moved back along OX we
decreased L, but surely we did not decrease time. In experience
we actually can do something which is properly represented by
saying L is decreasing to zero, but we can never do anything which
will allow us to say the same thing of time. The only thing we
can say of time is that it is always increasing and is entirely inde-
pendent of our action. This is a very important point. In mathe-
matical physics t is treated just as L is treated, but whereas our
mathematical treatment of L means something in experience, the
same treatment of t has no meaning at all in experience. The t of
physics is not real time at all.
A similar misunderstanding arises with regard to our mathe-
matical treatment of motion. We say for instance we are going to
describe a motion from A to B. But if the motion is from A to B
either, (1) it has stopped at B, or (2) it has gone beyond B. In
the first case the motion has ceased and so all we can describe is
what is left behind in existence by the motion, namely the space
passed over by the motion. In the second case nothing we can say
about AB can relate to the motion because by the hypothesis the
motion is not there but somewhere else, namely beyond B. What
we describe in every case is space and not motion. If we attempt
to treat motion mathematically, that is quantitatively, if we cut it
up into parts, we really substitute for the original motion a series
of motions plus a series of rests, which is not the same thing at all
as can be shown easily as follows. If we move across the room
without stopping we get a certain experience. If we move across
the room in steps of three feet stopping between steps we get an
experience wholly different qualitatively. This must be so, other-
240 JOURNAL OP PHILOSOPHY
wise we could not tell what we were doing. But if we add the
spaces passed over by the steps the sum will just equal the space
passed over originally, i.e., mathematical treatment applies only to
space, never to motion.
Consider another case. If we ask you to describe a picture but
move it about very rapidly, you will say immediately: "Hold it
still. How can I describe it if you keep moving it about?" Just
so, how can you? But do you not see that a still time (t = 0) is
not real time at all f
The trouble is due to the fact that in experience we get a per-
cept of real time due to memory and on this as a basis we create an
artificial concept of time which we know as the t of physics. It is
inevitable that in practise we treat this symbol t quantitatively
just as we do L. This does not mean that we hold t to be actually
the same space as is represented by L, but it does mean that the only
possible way mathematics can treat anything is the way it treats
L, that is quantitatively, and to this way we apply the term "spa-
tial."
The t of physics is the fourth dimension of experience lived as
real time, but treated mathematically as if it were space. This is
only to put into a short sentence the idea that Prof. Bergson has
elucidated so clearly, so thoroughly, and so beautifully in his book
Time and Free Will.
Now in physics we can give this t any values we please and
handle it as we handle L in mathematics, but we must always re-
member that this t, while created originally from our direct ex-
perience with real time, is subsequently handled in a way that has
no relation to real time at all since real time can not be increased
or decreased by us nor can it equal zero. These characteristics
apply only to space. Now there is no fault to be found at all in
setting up a symbol t to represent a concept based upon our per-
cept of real time. We have to do it, otherwise we could have no
mathematical physics; only we must be very careful in drawing
conclusions from equations in which t exists regarding our experi-
ence in real time.
All description is made upon the assumption that t = while
we describe, and hence physics ignores real time, which, of course,
never equals zero. Philosophically it is the idea of the absence of
change during the description that is represented in physics by f c ;
t means that we are going to describe something at one instant of
time, but manifestly this is impossible since any description re-
quires more than one instant of time to make it. Why then does
physics workt It works because the moment we act upon any of
THE PARIS PHILOSOPHICAL CONGRESS 241
its description we necessarily have to bring back into the phenom-
enon the real time which is missing in the description, since we
live in real time and not in the t of physics.
A. A. MERRttiL.
PASADENA, CALIFORNIA.
THE PARIS PHILOSOPHICAL CONGRESS
IT was the writer's great pleasure to attend the joint meeting of
members and friends of the French, British, Belgian, Italian
and American Philosophical Associations which was organized by
the French Association and held in Paris in the holiday week
of 1921.
The meeting began on the forenoon of December 27, with an
address of welcome by Monsieur Xavier Leon, president of the
French Association. Professor Brunschvicg pronounced a very
simple and very eloquent testimonial in honor of the French col-
leagues who had died during the past seven or eight years. In the
afternoon came a general session for the section of psychology and
metaphysics at which Professor Bergson presided. Mr. Wildon
Carr made a very interesting and persuasive distinction between
the old idealism of Berkeley and the German tradition, and the
new idealism represented by Croce and Gentile, but most adequately
by Gentile. After an interval of discussion, Mr. Carr was followed
by Professor Schiller, who argued that every fact is an instance of
value, and that science can not, therefore, ever be dehumanized.
Mr. Carr and Mr. Schiller spoke in English, and Professor Bergson
summarized their theses in French.
At six that afternoon there was a reception to the foreign dele-
gates at the Rapprochement Universitaire, rooms that correspond
a little to an American faculty club.
Next day, December 28, began the meetings of the four special
sections : logic and the philosophy of science, psychology and meta-
physics, history of philosophy, ethics and sociology. These meet-
ings were held in different rooms so that one hearer could not
possibly listen to more than a few of the papers presented. I was
assigned to the section for the history of philosophy and thus heard
the interesting and very learned paper of Monsieur Dapreel from
Brussels on Socratisme et Platonisme one of the themes proposed
by the French Association. Professor Dapreel's conclusions and
evidence were to be published in book form by the end of 1921.
There was an active discussion, by Monsieur Robin, professor of
ancient philosophy at the Sorbonne, and Monsieur Croiset, who
presided.
242 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
In the afternoon came a general session for the section of the
history of philosophy, with a communication by the writer on the
relations of science to philosophy as recently conceived, and by
Signore Enriques on the Kantian theory of judgments a priori in
its relation to the historical development of contemporary science.
The address of Signore Enriques was made doubly interesting by
the discussions of Langevin, Brunschvicg and Lalande.
The meetings of the four special sections were continued every
forenoon for the three following days, and I regret my inability to
give an account of them. Of particular interest, however, was the
Seance generate for the section of logic and philosophy of science
presided over by Monsieur Painleve" of the Institute. The topic
was The More Recent Forms of the Theory of Relativity. The
theme was introduced by Miss Wrinch from England, and debated
with extraordinary power and vivacity by Professor Langevin and
Monsieur Painleve", Langevin arguing in defense of the relativity
theory and Painleve" arguing without compromise against it. A
more brilliant occasion of this sort can hardly be imagined than
this general session was.
Later in the afternoon there was "tea" for the delegates in the
salons of the Sorbonne, offered by the rector and his associates of
the university.
On Friday afternoon came the general meeting for the section
of Ethics and Sociology, Professor Bougie presiding. The pro-
gramme included two papers, one by Monsieur Clardon on The
State and the Nation, and one by Monsieur Vermeil on Construc-
tive Principles and Political Experiences of Contemporary Ger-
many both of them themes of poignant interest to the French
thinkers of today.
Professor Charles Andler had been invited to discuss the ques-
tion of German methods and experiences, and his treatment of the
issues raised was as interesting and as remarkable as such a discus-
sion could well be. In this field of social and political philosophy
a visitor felt the atmosphere tense and sustained in which opinions
became suddenly exciting and important. This singularly interest-
ing meeting was continued the next day.
On Friday evening came the banquet offered by our French
colleagues to their visitors, and on Saturday afternoon, a reception
at the home of Mr. Xavier Le"on. This brought the official pro-
gramme to a close, but Monsieur Lalande, a day or two later, en-
tertained those visitors who had not left Paris.
The whole meeting was superbly organized, and particular
appreciation is due to M. Xavier Le"on for his untiring labors. The
BOOK REVIEWS 243
Sorbonne is a place of great dignity and much beauty, admirably
fitted for an occasion like this one. The hospitality of the Paris
philosophical faculty touched all of us, I am sure, very deeply,
by its quality and by its manner an entire simplicity combined
with perfect cordiality and dignity.
The discussion from the floor by the French philosophers was
marked by an amenity together with an incisive thoroughness rare
to the not less friendly but more lumbering Anglo-Saxon. The
American delegates were J. M. Baldwin, W. G. Everett, T.
de Laguna, R. B. Perry and the writer. An old friend, R. F. Alfred
Hoernle, was present as one of the English group. The Americans
presented the following papers: De Laguna, A Nominalistic Inter-
pretation of Truth; Everett, The Content and Organization of the
Moral Life; Perry, Forms of Social Unity. Mr. Baldwin was to
have spoken on the Reality of Value and the Value of Reality, but
he was unable to be in Paris. Professor Hoernle spoke on Berkeley
as a Forerunner of Recent Philosophy of Physics.
I must not forget the remarkably interesting description by
Dr. Pierre Janet of a case he had been studying for a long time.
His address had the title Les deux formes de la volonte et de la
croyance dans un cos de delire psychastenique.
Brief abstracts of all the papers had been printed, and it is
expected that the papers themselves will appear in a special num-
ber of the Revue de Metaphysique et de Morale.
W. T. BUSH.
COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY.
BOOK REVIEWS
The Philosophical Writings of Richard Burthogge. Edited with
introduction and notes by MARGARET W. LANDES. Chicago : Open
Court Publishing Company. 1921. Pp. xxiv -f- 245.
Richard Burthogge is one of the group of interesting minor
writers of the late seventeenth century, whose works have been quite
inaccessible for many years to most students of English thought. It
is thus a pleasure to have his major philosophical writings made
available in a well-printed edition. Once more the student of philos-
ophy is made indebted to the Open Court Publishing Company.
The three works of Burthogge which are reprinted in this new
volume are Organum Vetus & Novum, or a Discourse of Reason and
Truth (1678) , An Essay upon Reason and the Nature of Spirits, dedi-
cated "to the learned Mr. John Lock" (1694), and Of the Soul of the
World, and of Particular Souls, in a Letter to Mr. Lock (1699). The
244 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
first and third of these works are printed entire ; the second, being
tediously long and in large part unimportant, has been abridged and
is given only in so far as it has any light to throw on Burthogge's
epistemological positions. The notes at the end of the volumes are
mostly explanatory of the literary and personal allusions in the
text rather than critical of the historical and philosophical issues
raised ; but they are based on careful research and are quite accurate
(except where in note 23 Burthogge is inadvertently said to refer in
1678 to Locke whose work did not appear until twelve years later).
The introduction to the volume is the least satisfactory part of the
book, not that it asserts any unsound thesis, but that its emphasis
is misleading in regard to Burthogge's historical relations. The
chief point in the introduction consists in an examination of certain
ways in which Burthogge anticipated Kant. There seems to be no
good reason for selecting Kant rather than Sir William Hamilton or
Cousin or even Herbert Spencer. Though the comparison of Bur-
thogge and Kant holds good, it is unfortunate, as an introduction to
this particular volume, for two reasons. First, it suggests the old
discredited method of treating English classic philosophy as a prep-
aration for German thought. Secondly, it also implies that Bur-
thogge was the only British writer who thus anticipated Kant, though
Locke to whom Burthogge was so closely related anticipated Kant in
every one of the same respects with one exception. The chief histori-
cal problem of the relations of Burthogge and Locke receives scanty
notice.
Of the Soul of the World and of Particular Souls is largely
concerned with the fantastic pantheistic animism which Burthogge
developed, under the influence partly of the Cambridge Platonists
and partly of Malebranche. Its historical importance seems to lie
mainly in the fact that it illustrates the way in which Malebranche
was usually understood, or rather misunderstood, on English soil.
The numerous English misinterpretations of Malebranche were due to
the great difference between French idealism and English idealism.
It would not be much amiss to sum up the difference by saying that
French idealism was Platonic and English idealism was Neo-Platonic.
What is meant by that characterization is that French idealism was
concerned with certain logical relations and moral standards, and
English idealism was concerned with the proof of a certain kind of
spiritual substance or stuff. The Cambridge Platonists, Burthogge,
and even Berkeley confused logical and metaphysical questions, and
endeavored to combat materialism by establishing a different kind of
substance than that known as physical. No better illustration of the
English inability to understand French idealism could be found than
John Locke's two essays on Malebranche himself and upon Norris,
BOOK REVIEWS 245
the one real pupil of Malebranche in England (c/. Locke's Works,
edition of 1823, Vol. IX, pp. 211-255, and Vol. X, pp. 246-259).
Burthogge's idealism rejects "the seeing of all things in God," and
substitutes therefor the being a fragment of the world soul.
The other two works reprinted in this volume are primarily
concerned with Burthogge's logical and epistemological positions,
and are the ones most worth reading to-day. The main historical
problem which they raise is the relation between Burthogge and
Locke; for though the many points of resemblance are easy to see,
the question of independence or indebtedness of one to the other
is baffling. It may be profitable to list the points of resem-
blance. In Burthogge's work of the year 1678 the following
points are made which later appear in Locke's Essay: that "full and
free assent" such as Lord Herbert's consensus gentium is no guaran-
tee of truth (36-37) ; that "anticipations" such as the alleged innate
ideas owe their seeming indubitability, not to their having been
divinely planted in the mind, but to their having been acquired early
in experience and become deeply fixed by habit (37-38) ; that to be
"clear and distinct" is not, as Descartes supposed, equivalent to
being true (34) ; that "enthusiasm" is likely to lead men astray in
thinking (16) ; that all the objects of human thought have their locus
only in the mind and do not exist independently (12-13, 24-25) ;
that our notions as well as our sense-experiences are real, not in that
they mirror the nature of external objects, but only in that they are
' ' grounded ' ' in those external objects ( 17, 39 ) ; that truth is harmony,
congruity, or proportion of things with each other as they exist
in our minds (40-41, 44) ; that faith may pass beyond but can not
contradict reason (19) ; that there are certain truths which are self-
evident as soon as the mind attends to them (39) ; that in many
affairs the human mind can not reach certainty, but must be content
with probability (46). In no case would it be safe to affirm that
Locke borrowed these positions from Burthogge; for many of these
positions were contained in the earlier drafts of Locke 's Essay which
go back as early as 1671, and others which were incorporated in the
second and fourth editions of Locke's Essay are discussed in his
correspondence with Molyneux without the slightest suggestion of
dependence upon any writings of other authors. In the case of such
positions as the relation of faith and reason, or the self-evidence of
certain truths, or even the dependence of notions upon sense-expe-
rience, it is probable that Burthogge and Locke were both influenced
by a current attitude of their time; but it is difficult to find any
such current attitude to explain other positions shared by the two
men. The historical question here involved requires further careful
study; and though Locke still may be considered to have made the
246 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
most noteworthy statement of the subjective theory of knowledge,
he can perhaps no longer be considered to be quite such an innovator
in philosophy.
Burthogge's later work of 1694 is clearly and confessedly de-
pendent upon Locke to whom he dedicated the essay. The subjec-
tive epistemology of the earlier work is restated more in Lockian
fashion, though Burthogge maintains one point in which he differed
from Locke, namely the activity of the mind in sensation (76-77).
Attempts to describe the nature of substance are, however, made
by Burthogge in this work, as by Locke in the Essay, though they
were not made in the earlier work of 1678 and are obviously in-
consistent with the epistemological position already adopted. For
example, the substance of water is supposed to consist in itself
of "little parts" of a certain magnitude and size, figure and shape,
kind and motion, even though exact knowledge thereof is impossible
(83-87) ; that is, water is treated as an atomist would treat it, as
possessing objectively what Locke called the primary qualities.
Again, two kinds of substance, matter and mind, are regarded as
proved from the two different kinds of effects which they arouse in
the mind of one who perceives them (91). Or again, Descartes 's
resolution of corporeal substance into "mere" extension is rejected,
and matter is treated as a substance which has extension as an attri-
bute (96). Still again, the whole physiological explanation of sensa-
tions as due to impressions coming in through the end-organs from
an external world is adopted quite realistically (127). Thus Bur-
thogge under Locke's influence departs from idealism towards dual-
ism, and takes a stand in his metaphysics which is utterly unwar-
ranted by his theory of knowledge. Such influence may be regarded
as unfortunate; but it is none the less real. No problem remains
unsolved in connection with this later work as in the case in the
relation of Burthogge's earlier work to Locke's Essay.
STERLING P. LAMPBECHT.
UNIVIBSITT or ILLINOIS.
Nietzsche, sa Vie et sa Pensee: Vol. II. La Jeunesse de Nietzsche
jusqu'a la Rupture avec Bayreuth. CHARLES ANDLER. Paris:
Editions Bossard. 1921. Pp. 469.
It would be unfair to readers of the JOURNAL were a lengthy
delay in review of these volumes (Vol. Ill is before me also) to
result from very recent changes in the personal plans of the reviewer.
Seeing that this would be inevitable were full review in question,
and that, as in the case of Volume I (cf. this JOURNAL, Sept. 1,
1921), such review must needs await completion of the work, I sub-
mit some account of M. Andler's progress, pour servir.
BOOK REVIEWS 247
Volume II contains an Introduction, and three Books the
"Shaping of Nietzsche"; the "Preparation for the Book on
Tragedy"; the "Attempt to Reform Wagnerism." But these titles
offer little indication of the variety and suggestiveness of the con-
tents.
The Introduction gives Andler an opportunity to state his manner
of approach, and to issue a warning about the two Nietzsche ' ' tradi-
tions" that of Wiemar and that of Basle lions in the path. Book
I consists of two chapters ; on " Forebears and Adolescence, ' ' and the
"University and the Influence of 0. Eitschl" respectively. The
pictures of Saxon culture, of the Lutheran rural clergy (reminding
one forcibly of Scotland), and of the unique school at Pforta, are
admirably drawn. There is a splendid pen-portrait of Ritschl. It
affords an illuminating clue to the humanistic German "man of
science" in the mid-nineteenth century the zeal of thine house hath
eaten me up. Book II opens with an equally informing presenta-
tion of social and cultural conditions at Basle when Nietzsche arrived
upon the scene; a town with a distinctive atmosphere of its own,
like so many Teutonic centers from of old Francke 's Halle, Kant 's
Koenigsberg, Goethe's Weimar, Schelling's Jena, for example. Fol-
lows a charming account of the "Idyl of Tribschen" Nietzsche in
the 'bosom of Wagner domesticity. Chapter I concludes with the
events attendant upon the war of 1870, and I am glad to see that
Andler treats Nietzsche's physical mischance as an incident.
Chapter II describes Nietzsche's intercourse with five intimate
friends Paul Deussen, Heinrich Bomundt, Carl von Gersdorff,
Erwin Rohde, and Franz Overbeck saying something about reper-
cussions; and stresses the influence of the family circle, making
some pointed remarks on the sister, now famous, thanks to the
brother's reflected glory, but not always to be taken, for this mere ac-
cident, an pied de la lettre. Chapter III is devoted to an intensive
account of the intimate soul-relations between Nietzsche and Wagner,
in which Andler takes care to hint (Sect, ii) the subtle part played
by Cosima Wagner, the "Corinne-Ariane" of the Empedocles Frag-
ment. Some reading between the lines is necessary here ; but section
i of Chapter V ("The Foundation of Bayreuth," some 70 pp. later)
serves to make matters plainer. Chapter IV is specially noteworthy
for its analysis of the sources of the Birth, of Tragedy in the Roman-
tics (Fr. and W. Schlegel, and Fr. Creuzer), in O. Miiller, Fr.
Welcker, J. J. Bachofen, and Fr. Liszt. The summary (pp. 272 f.)
points the moral well (cf. pp. 289 f.). As just indicated, chapter
V, concluding Book II, pictures Tribschen at its warmest ; an exhibi-
tion (the most intimative among not a few) of German Schwarmerei
248 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
nigh incredible to the phlegmatic (and barbarous!) Anglo-Saxon.
In short, Romanticism rampageous, ante-Bismarck Kultur in
excelsisl
Book III raises issues even more interesting. We see Nietzsche
just beginning to free himself, and to sense problems destined to re-
turn for judgment till the last. Chapter I deals with "Nietzsche's
First Scientific Studies" not Wissenschaft, but natural science.
The physicists Boscovich, Pouillet, and Mohr, the chemists Kopp and
Landenberg, and the cosmologist Maedler, furnished much food for
thought. But the main spell seems to have been exerted by J. K. F.
Zollner, the Leipzig astronomer, who attacked his fellow physicists
much as Nietzsche had attacked his fellow philologists ; and who met
a similar reception witness Wilamowitz's famous or infamous
Zukunftsphilologie (pp. 291 f.). His "scandalous" 'book, tiber die
Natur Kometen, a contribution rather to the literature of panpsy-
chism than of astronomy, posed the question of the "unconscious,"
then clamant. It jumbled the terminology of physics and psychol-
ogy, transforming facts observed in the bodily order into experiences
of the soul, making possible a reversion to pythagoreanism (pp.
318-20). Although Zollner essayed to explain the rise of industry
and of science, together with the reasons for social decadence, he
forgot the office of art, dear to Nietzsche, because with art lay the
potency of the future. In fine, Nietzsche's contact with physical
science rendered it necessary for him to expand Wagnerism ration-
ally. Nor was he to stop at physics and chemistry.
Darwin's fermentum cognitionis, known to Nietzsche through the
several reactions of F. A. Lange, Oscar Schmidt, and Nageli, involved
other issues. At this juncture, personal contact with L. Eiitimeyer,
the paleontologist, professor of zoology and comparative anatomy at
Basle, a "philosophical spirit" in a day when the riches of observa-
tion and experiment had atrophied generalization (p. 332), exerted
decisive influence, causing Nietzsche to substitute for the individual-
istic struggle for existence a genetic, and neo-lamarckian, elan vitale.
This "prime vital energy" may portend much, mayhap even the
birth of a supreme race. For, as Eiitimeyer had the hardihood to
suggest, "Notre squelette porte en lui les possibilites d'une evolution
vlterieure, autant que toute autre forme du squelette vertebre" (p.
343). Hence Nietzsche's preoccupation thus early with the possi-
bility of an ascent to a higher type of humanity. Here, then, is a
mystic positivism and, to the extent of its mysticism, it demands a
reckoning with religion.
Accordingly, chapter II deals with the "unseasonable" essay on
D. F. Strauss. The friendship with that "vieitte fitte fanatisee"
BOOK REVIEWS 249
(p. 352), the pontificating bas-Ueu, Malwida von Meysenbug; the
marked influence of the views of Paul de Lagarde (Gottingen) about
Protestantism, Catholicism, and Judaism; and of Franz Overbeck's
Vber die Christlichkeit der heutigen Theologie (p. 368 f.) added to
the ferment. As Nietzsche saw things now, Cosima Wagner
threatened to corrupt her husband, Strauss to corrupt the German
people the one by reactionary faith, the other by equally reac>
tionary science. So Nietzsche agonizes. The tract on History re-
sults and, with that on Schopenhauer as Educator, he passes beyond
Wagnerism, to begin the "Renaissance of tragic philosophy in
Germany" (p. 416). Wagner must be constrained to reconstruct
his universe of values, or a final break can not be averted. Chapter
IV diagnoses the symptoms which led to the break, and brought
Nietzsche's "L'affranchissement" (the title of the chapter). Suffice
it to say that association with Jacob Burckhardt, another member
of the stimulating circle at Basle, supplied a decisive factor. The
volume closes with a (brief appendix on Nietzsche's philological writ-
ings, exploited recently by Ernst Howald in his Friedrich Nietzsche
und die klassische Philologie (1920).
It were superfluous to praise Andler's breadth of knowledge,
presented with the unique talent of his people for clear and crisp
exposition. The 'book marks another step in an indispensable guide
to Nietzsche's Odyssey of the spirit. Similar review of Volume III
will follow soon.
E. M. WENLEY.
UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN.
The Psychology of Everyday Life. Pp. ix -f- 164. The Psychol-
ogy of Industry. Pp. xi -|- 148. JAMES DREVER. London :
Methuen & Co., Ltd. 1921.
These two books are written for the general reader in that
happy popular style which is the peculiar gift of the British and
the despair of Continental writers. Here and there a striking ex-
pression makes a scientific fact stand out with the vividness of a
poetic phrase, as, e.g., "Experience is itself living." "The world
of make-believe is a self -created world."
In the first volume nearly all the major points of modern psy-
chology have been touched upon, though rather lightly it must be
confessed. His treatment of the emotional life is rather better than
that of some other subjects and he seems particularly fortunate in
his application of the psychological theories of Freud to this phase
of conscious life. The motive in writing the book is the belief,
"that for all those arts and sciences which are concerned with the
human factor in the world process in any of its phases the science
250 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
of psychology is as fundamental as is the science of physics for all
those arts and sciences which are concerned with physical proc-
esses." (P. v.)
The second volume might be classed as applied psychology and
treats of the topics pertaining to industry and commerce, such as
the intelligence and fitness of the worker; the function of mental
engineering; the problem of fatigue; economy of learning and
working; and the theory and art of salesmanship. Standard tests
and experiments are described and interpreted from the author's
standpoint, which he tries to keep strictly psychological in distinc-
tion from that of the economist or the social philosopher.
These books might well be read by every teacher of psychology
by way of learning how the subject may be related to life in a way
to attract and benefit the average student. Their chief appeal,
however, must be to those persons whose work is principally that of
dealing with human relationships such as the educator, the social
worker, the minister, the lawyer, and the employer of large num-
bers of his fellow men.
L. PEAEL BOGGS.
URBANA, ILL.
JOURNALS AND NEW BOOKS
MIND. October, 1921. The External World (pp. 385-409) :
C. D. BROAD. -A discussion of the meaning of sensible appearance
in the light of recent realistic theory, the essence of which is "that
whenever I judge that something appears to me to have the quality
q there must be an object with which I am acquainted which really
does have the quality q. This object is the sensum." The sensum,
sensation, and the physical object must be distinguished. Some
Explanations (pp. 409-429): S. ALEXANDER. -A reply to criti-
cisms of Space, Time, and Deity. Literary Truth and Realism, The
Aesthetic Function of Literature and its Relation to Philosophy
(II) (pp. 429-444): P. LEON. - Criticism of expressionist and
other views of art and a "re-statement, from the point of view of
literature, of the old formal view of art. ..." Discussion. The
Meaning of "Meaning" (pp. 444 417) : F. C. S. SCHILLEB. Criti-
cal Notices. W. E. JOHNSON, Logic, Pt. I: J. GIBSON. D. Faw-
cett, Divine Imagining: J. S. MACKENZIE. Viscount Haldane, The
Reign of Relativity: H. WILDON CARR. New Books. Eugenic Rig-
nano, Psychologic du Raisonnement : F. C. B. Adolf o Levi, Scep-
tica: A. E. TAYLOR. Graham Wallas, Our Social Heritage:
V. M. BENECKE. J. J. Putnam, Addresses on Psycho-analysis: E.
PRIDEAUX. Wm. Brown, Psychology and Psychotherapy: W.
JOURNALS AND NEW BOOKS 251
WHATELY SMITH. J. Larguier des Bancels, Introduction a la Psy-
chologic: JAMES DBEVEB. Robert Briffault, Psyche's Lamp: A
Revaluation of Psychological Principles as Foundation of all
Thought: L. S. S. J. O'Callaghan, Dual Evolution: L. J. RUS-
SELL. Aristide Gabelli, II Metodo di Insegnamento nelle Scuole
Elementari d'ltalia; Bertrando Spaventa, La Liberta d' Insegna-
mento; M. Casotti, Introduzione alia Pedagogia: B. BOSANQUET.
L. Cazamian, L' Evolution Psychologic et la Litterature en An-
gleterre: I. A. RICHARDS. Felix Weltsch, "Gnade und Freiheit":
JAMES LINDSAY. Joseph Jastrow, The Psychology of Conviction:
C. W. V. James Drever, The Psychology of Industry: B. M.
Drs. Ferenczi, K. Abraham, E. Simmel, E. Jones, Psycho-analysis
and War Neuroses: E. PBIDEAUX. Knight Dunlap, Mysticism,
Freudianism, and Scientific Psychology: J. W. S. The Works of
Aristotle, Vol. X: Politics, by Benjamin Jowett; Oeconomica, by
E. S. Forster; Atheniensium Respublica, by Sir F. G. Kenyon:
A. E. TAYLOR. Antonio Aliotta, L'Estetica del Croce e la Crisi
dell' Idealismo Moderno: H. W. C. Giovanni Gentile, Giordano
Bruno e il Pensiero del Rinascimento : J. L. M. Pasquale Gatti,
L'Unita del Pensiero Leopardiano: A. E. TAYLOR. E. Cunning-
ham, Relativity, the Electron Theory, and Gravitation: C. D. B.
A. A. Robb, The Absolute Relations of Time and Space: C. D. B.
W. Tudor Jones, The Training of Mind and Witt; and The Mak-
ing of Personality: F. C. S. S. De Witt H. Parker, The Princi-
ples of Aesthetics: I. A. RICHARDS. Ch. Lalo, L'Art et la Vie
Sociale: I. A. R. Philosophical Periodicals. Notes. <( Common
Sense and the Rudiments of Philosophy": CHARLES E. HOOPER.
A French Historian of the Philosophies of the Middle Ages: Fran-
gois-Joseph Picavet (1851-1921) : M. P. RAMSAY.
Dilthey, Wilhelm. "Weltanshauung und Analyse des Menschen seit
Renaissance und Reformation. (Gesammelte Schriften, II
Band.) Leipzig: B. G. Teubner. 1921. Pp. xi + 528. $7.20.
NOTES AND NEWS
The third International Moral Education Congress will be held
at Geneva on July 28, 29, 31 and August 1 of the current year. The
object of these congresses, of which the first was held in 1908 in Lon-
don and the second in 1912 at the Hague, is to serve the cause of
moral education, both inside and outside of schools and universities,
irrespective of religion and nationality. The special theme of the
forthcoming congress will be international good will and the ways
of promoting it. The teaching of history will receive much attention.
The official languages will be French, English, Italian, German and
252 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
Esperanto. Papers giving a general survey of a subject may fill
about 30 minutes; shorter and more technical ones may fill 10.
Papers will be followed by discussion. There will be a reading room,
to contain as much as can be brought together which bears upon
the purpose of the congress. One exhibition will be of books for
young people, handbooks and newspapers of a kind to avoid. Only
about thirty papers can be printed, owing to the cost of publication,
but it is hoped that these will be of high merit, and that the congress
will make a serious contribution to a field in which knowledge and
cooperation have never been more needed. The chairman of the
executive council is Sir Frederick Pollock.
A meeting of the Aristotelian Society was held on March 6, 1922,
Professor J. S. Mackenzie in the chair. Professor S. N. Dasgupta
read a paper on "The Logic of the Vedanta," a synopsis of which
follows : The earliest Upanisads, forming the concluding part of the
Vedic literature, were completed certainly before 500 B. C. The
main doctrine found in them is that self is the ultimate reality.
This self is not the Ego but pure consciousness, which was regarded
as supremely unchangeable. The early Buddist philosophy sought
to prove that everything was changing and that there was nothing
which could be regarded as permanent. The nihilistic school of
Buddhism as interpreted by Nagarjuna and Aryadeya (100 A. D.)
demonstrated, by critical and dialectical reasoning of the type which
Mr. Bradley has used, that our ordinary conceptions of experience
are absolutely relative and are therefore indefinite and indefinable.
The idealistic Buddhists accepted this position and held that all
wordly experience is due to mental construction. The Vedanta,
as explained by Sankara, and as interpreted by Sriharsa and Mad-
Lusuilana Sarasvati and others, held that pure consciousness, as
revealed in immediate experience and as distinct from its particular
form and content, is self-contained and absolutely real. Particular
forms are relative and mutually interdependent. They are definable
either as being or as non-being for they participate in the nature of
both. They are the modifications of separate logical category called
the indefinite and have the same sort of logical status as illusions.
They appear as existent by virtue of their relation with pure con-
sciousness which is absolutely unchangeable and self-contained and
immediate. Everything which has any form or content is thus a
joint manifestation of the indefinite. The nature of all that is rela-
tive is that it has being in some sense and it has no being in another,
and it can not therefore be regarded either as positive or negative.
This necessitates the acceptance of the indefinite as a separate log-
ical category which explains the logical status of all that is relative.
VOL. XIX, No. 10 MAY 11, 1922
THE JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
THE FORM OF PHILOSOPHICAL INTELLIGIBILITY 1
"TT~NDER this title I wish to call attention to an aspect of a very
^ old and familiar problem that of the nature of philosophy.
We habitually assign to philosophy the task of "explaining" the
world, or of rendering experience "intelligible." Now is it pos-
sible to specify more exactly what is involved in this requirement?
What is it to explain or to render intelligible in the philosophical
sense, and what is the form or logic in which philosophy can be re-
quired to attain rationality? It would seem necessary to under-
stand as clearly and definitely as possible what type of explanation
philosophy may properly be expected to furnish before any discus-
sion is in order regarding its competency to fulfill its task, or con-
cerning the relative value and pertinency of various systems.
The central position that the problem occupies logically is not,
however, its only claim to consideration. The failure to discrimi-
nate between different forms of explanation has frequently given
rise to practical misunderstandings regarding the fruitfulness and
value of philosophical study itself. It would be hard to find a better
illustration of the fact that discontent and disillusionment often
have their sources in unreasonable expectations and impossible de-
mands. Complaints are brought against philosophy not merely
by outsiders, but by its professed students as well for a strange
variety of reasons: because it does not give us demonstrations like
mathematics, or new facts like the natural sciences, or esthetic en-
joyment like poetry, or a technique for transforming education and
social life in accordance with the demands of the age. Or, again,
the demand is that philosophy shall furnish a statement of the most
general relations of existence, analogous to but more inclusive than
the fundamental principles of mathematics. Now I do not say that
all these requirements are artificial and suggested merely by external
analogies though I think that some of them undoubtedly are nor
is it necessary to assume that on examination they would appear
mutually inconsistent. They have been mentioned only to illustrate
the variety of the demands that are made upon philosophy, and to
1 Bead before the Eastern Branch, of American Philosophical Association
at Vassal- College, December 29, 1921.
253
254 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
suggest the corresponding necessity from a practical point of view
of such an inquiry as is suggested by the title of this paper.
In considering this question it is helpful, I think, to make an
attempt to distinguish genuine philosophical problems from those
that are artificial. Of course such a distinction can not be made
in any external fashion by setting up a preliminary definition. In
philosophy, more than in any other type of inquiry, the formulation
of the problem and its answer can never be sharply separated. To
succeed in asking a reasonable question is already in some measure
to see one's way to an answer. One must begin, then, by attempt-
ing to appreciate rightly the objective situation and its demands. A
genuine philosophical problem is one that is objectively grounded
and does not spring merely from the associatively directed fancy of
a subjective interest. There must underlie it an order of experience
that is already fundamentally organized in accordance with rational
principles, and it is from the demands of this experience that philos-
ophy as a consciously directed activity must proceed. It will of
course be necessary to bring up for further examination and criticism
principles previously received; but in doing this philosophy must
rest its case upon an order of experience that is taken, at least
provisionally, as reasonable and secure. Thus, while one may
reasonably question the validity of any particular fact or phase of
experience, one can not intelligibly question the validity of experi-
ence as a whole. The beginning of all philosophy consists in an
acceptance of the world-order of our own time and civilization, and
from these roets all its genuine problems spring.
These considerations when applied help to protect us against a
good many pseudo-problems that are popularly supposed to be the
special interest of philosophy. It is not the business of philosophy,
as Lotze was fond of remarking, to prove that the world exists or
to demonstrate how it is made. Philosophy has not to show us how
to make a world, but to help us in understanding the actual world
in which we find ourselves. The genuine problems of philosophy
are natural problems, not reached by any artificial straining, but
generated by the demands of a human life to know itself and to
become at home in its world.
There is always a special danger that when philosophy is carried
on largely by schools and schoolmen it may become artificial through
too great an emphasis upon formal completeness and the require-
ments of technical demonstration. It would be quite in order to
raise the question, "Are we Scholastics? " Scholasticism has of
course its merits, and I am not arguing in favor of dilettantism, or
lack of earnestness and seriousness in carrying on philosophical in-
quiries, but against making what is merely technical and abstract
PHILOSOPHICAL INTELLIGIBILITY 255
the end and goal. It is of course to .be admitted that for certain
preliminary inquiries in philosophy technical methods and a rigor-
ously defined terminology are necessary. But two things should be
borne in mind: first, that such technical inquiries are a part of
philosophy only in so far as they directly or indirectly throw light
upon some genuine problem, and, secondly, that the philosopher
by profession is not thereby set apart from his fellows and dedicated
to some precious but obscure inquiry in which they have neither
part nor lot. The important matter is to rid thought of abstractions
that are not instrumental to concrete knowledge, and as little to
accept our problems ready-made from the schoolmen of the present
day as from those of the past. Philosophy, as criticism that is based
upon life, has first of all the function of showing the irrationality
and illegitimacy of many questions, both contemporary and tradi-
tional.
But the mere resolve to occupy one's thought with the concrete
is not enough : it is also necessary to proceed to it through criticism,
i.e., though a natural dialectic of thought. That way is long and
difficult, and is in general the path which the classical systems of
philosophy have tried to follow.
On the other hand, I can not help thinking that in some of the
present-day movements that advertise themselves as "new" and
"scientific" there is plainly marked a tendency to turn away from
one form of abstraction in order to take refuge in another. The
desire to direct philosophy into more fruitful channels doubtless
underlies the effort to assimilate its procedure to that of the special
sciences. The traditional form of philosophical inquiry, it is said,
is neither logically convincing nor practically fruitful, while con-
temporary science offers an example of an increase and systematiza-
tion of positive facts that represent a solid achievement both on
account of its certainty and of its service to society. Hence arises
the demand that philosophy shall be reformed by the adoption of
the scientific method, and made to yield conclusions that are rigidly
demonstrable and capable of fruitful application.
Now one may sympathize in large measure with the motives of
these reformers without being ready to accept their somewhat
pessimistic diagnosis of the condition of philosophy or approving
the remedies they propose to employ. That philosophical inquiry
should be carried on with systematic thoroughness and with the
utmost attention to real facts and willingness to follow where the
argument leads, no one would wish to deny. Indeed, only on these
terms is philosophy true to its name. But this is not to assert that
it must abandon its own problems and procedure and seek for a
place among the sciences. Here again I would suggest the possi-
256 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
bility that dissatisfaction with historical philosophy has its source
in a misunderstand'! 11 LT in regard to the form of intelligibility at
which its representatives have aimed. May it not be true that the
historical systems seem to certain persons to have little value just be-
cause they themselves are interested only in a different type of prob-
lem, and that this fact explains why they seem to themselves to have
received a stone when they asked for bread T
Apart from religion, there are three consciously directed ap-
proaches through which the mind may be said to attempt to render
the world familiar to itself those of science, of philosophy, and of
art. In ordinary life these interests are not clearly defined and
differentiated, and in every normal individual they are all present
and influence each other in some degree. But however intimate
their relation in the life of any individual, it is essential that one
form of problem should not be confused with another. The form of
intelligibility that philosophy seeks, and in some measure attains, is
not that of science and not that of art, nor is it any admixture of
the two, though it has relations with both. Leaving for the present
the nature of art out of account, we may consider some of the funda-
mental distinctions between scientific and philosophical explanation.
One or two preliminary remarks are, however, necessary to avoid
misunderstanding. In the first place, the distinction between these
two modes of inquiry does not exclude, but rather provides for,
mutual aid and supplementation in practise. The effort to explain
the world is a human undertaking and is carried on by human beings,
not by the abstractions we sometimes name "the philosopher" and
' ' the scientist. ' ' To ensure genuine progress in any field it is neces-
sary that the two forms of inquiry should take note of each other,
even that they should interpenetrate each other within the same mind.
I have tried at various times to state and illustrate my understanding
of necessary connection between them, and of the nature of the dialec-
tic by means of which they are connected. At present I wish to
insist that it is only by keeping clear the essential differences that
the true relation between them can be understood.
The general question regarding the relations of philosophy and
the sciences has, then, many aspects which must at present be left
out of account. What I wish to emphasize is that the demands
of explanation in the two fields are not identical, and that a com-
plete explanation in one set of terms has no immediate relevancy
as an answer to a question raised from the point of view of the other
inquiry. The scientific explanation of why Socrates is sitting in
prison awaiting the execution of his sentence, stated in terms of the
contraction of the muscles of his legs and the revolutions of his
bones in the socket joints does not furnish the kind of explanation
PHILOSOPHICAL INTELLIGIBILITY 257
that is demanded. What is required is to supply the context in
terms of the personality and moral character of Socrates. It is not
a mere difference of substituting a teleological for a mechanical
explanation, as might appear from the illustration. That the form
of philosophical intelligibility always does involve teleology, is, I
think, true. Nevertheless it is necessary to carry the matter further
since there is a superficial type of teleological explanation that has no
claim to the title of philosophy, just as there are causal explanations
that can not properly be regarded as scientific.
It may throw additional light upon the question before us to
ask what legitimate demand of our intelligence remains unsatisfied
after the scientific account is complete. What is still lacking to
comprehension ? It may be said that the sciences make us familiar
with the general framework of reality and furnish a kind of inven-
tory of the different types of things contained therein by exhibiting
how they may be thought of as compounded in certain uniform
ways of simpler events or elements. The laws expressing the rela-
tionships of these elements are at the same time, as Bacon points out,
rules by means of which they may be constructed. Now although
this type of explanation is indispensable, and may even seem to
satisfy all justifiable demands in regard to certain fields of reality, it
does not give us any insight regarding the nature of the significant
individual things by which we are surrounded and in relation to
which we live. On the contrary, it obliterates all real individuality
and reduces everything to identical elements or events. It yields
knowledge in the form of general concepts that do not directly apply
to concrete individual wholes, but to the abstractly simplified rela-
tions of ideally defined units.
Now conceivably in the realm of what we call nature it might be
possible by substituting poetry and other forms of art to dispense
entirely with the philosophical mode of inquiry. I have a friend
who sometimes remarks, "I never feel any need of philosophy.
When I turn from mathematics I fall back on poetry." That atti-
tude seems comprehensible, as I have said, so far as the realm of
outer nature is concerned, though even there I believe it would not
be difficult to show that experience involves a relation to actual indi-
vidual wholes whose nature demands comprehension in intellectual
and not merely in imaginative terms. However that may be, it is
certainly true that human nature and the world of social and histor-
ical life have always formed the central interest of philosophy, and of
these the attitude in question simply renounces all critical and co-
herent knowledge. For the sciences based on the logic of mathemat-
ical calculation recognize no individuals and can furnish no insight
258 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
into the reciprocal human relations that constitute the social and
historical life of man.
What we seek under the name of philosophy is an understanding
based on reflective criticism and observation, of the individuals and
types of individuals that make up the world we live in. This
process of reflection, it is evident, must both presuppose and issue
in a knowledge of the self. I know of no better description of
philosophy than as the most fully integrated effort of man to estab-
lish relations with his world and thus to attain to the familiarity
and confidence that come from understanding.
Where shall we look for a realized exemplar of that kind of
intelligibility! Philosophy, as Hegel loved to say, can not be real
as mere desire for knowledge, but only through recognizing itself
as knowledge already implicitly realized. If science does not give
us the form of knowledge we seek, where is it actually to be found t
In the classical systems of philosophy, doubtless. But it seems to me
that a familiar illustration of the kind of insight that constitutes
philosophy may be drawn from the understanding that we have of
that part of the world with which we are most familiar, such as the
circle of the home, or the life of a small community whose members
have known each other long and intimately. In such situations the
spirit of the whole is comprehended as the common life of which all
the individuals partake, and in terms of which their relations to
each other seem natural and reasonable. This kind of understanding
is of the essence of logic, though it is rarely drawn out into a system
of abstract propositions. But at its best it holds within it, as it were
in solution, the result of countless observations and analyses, and is
thus supported by all kinds of lore historical, scientific, psycho-
logical constituting a richness of concrete detail that has been
harmonized and blended into the form of immediate familiarity.
The depth and significance of the immediacy are proportional to
the attention and insight that have gone into processes that have
led up to it. Such understanding does not come by nature, or
through mere unreflective contact, but is the product of accurate
observations and of well-disciplined and sympathetic imagination.
It is no blind oracle pronouncing ambiguous conclusions, but has its
witness within it and is able to supply the context that renders its
judgments intelligible. It may accordingly be said that this type
of knowledge is philosophical in the degree in which it attains
systematic completeness of view in concrete form. It comprehends
individuals of different orders in the form of a significant and con-
crete unity by supplying the context that gives to them the form of
a self-subsisting whole.
Objection may, however, be raised against accepting this familiar
PHILOSOPHICAL INTELLIGIBILITY 259
type of knowledge as an illustration of the true form of philosophical
intelligibility on the ground that the latter must rest upon rigorously
demonstrated propositions that command universal consent. Uni-
versality and necessity, we have been often told, is the true form of
philosophy. There is a truth in that statement, but the philosophi-
cal form of universality and necessity is not that which belongs to
abstract propositions. Science is a system of abstract propositions,
but the demand for this type of demonstration in philosophy rests
upon a confusion of ideas. Eigorous logical proof of the type
demanded by science is always purchased at the cost of abstraction,
as is most clearly illustrated in the case of mathematics; the more
complete the abstraction from reality the more compelling is the
nature of the formal demonstration. Just because philosophy is oc-
cupied with the relations of concrete individuals and systems of
individuals, the logic of general propositions can not be its final test
or form of truth.
The difficulty is still likely to be urged, however, that what is
not expressible in propositions that can be formally demonstrated is
but subjective opinion, and can never furnish a common basis for
life or society. This would be a serious objection if it were true.
But it rests, I think, upon a misunderstanding of the nature pf
knowledge as a process of systematic concretion, a movement from
the abstract to the concrete. In the first place, demonstration of
the type described by formal logic has its place and function only
within this total process. It always presupposes an objective world
of fact upon which the common intelligence of individuals rests.
The abstract method can operate only in so far as it is supported by
a concrete basis of organized fact. One could infer nothing in a world
of mere assumptions. And secondly, in actual reasoning there is al-
ways the further question after the formal correctness of a conclusion
has been accepted the question, namely, as to what application it has,
i.e., how it enters concretely into the world of reality and modifies
or further defines our knowledge of the nature of the individual
systems that compose it.
The common experience which forms the basis of a common
social life is, even on its intellectual side, wrongly conceived as of the
inflexible type suggested by the literal identity of identically formu-
lated propositions. It is comparatively easy to agree upon a com-
mon formula; but no matter how carefully the words have been
defined in the abstract, the attempt to apply the formula is sure to
reveal differences of personal opinion. Such formulas have an
important function as instruments in attaining a common under-
standing, and they serve too as a nucleus about which common feel-
ings grow up. But neither practical life nor philosophy can rest
260 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
in such abstract forms of agreement. The conditions of a common
life demand differences no less than identity. Without such dif-
ferences there would be no knowledge, nothing but the dead level
of opinion that is without life or movement. If this is true, the ob-
jectivity of philosophy is not something guaranteeing a common
platform of truth that is once for all defined and demonstrated. It
is rather the concrete basis of an understanding developed through
the give and take of a common life.
If the logic of philosophy is of the character that I have en-
deavored to sketch, it is evident that the oft-repeated criticism that
it obscures differences and issues in a block universe is based upon
a failure to distinguish clearly between its goal and that of the
sciences. It is the logic of science that has an eye only for uni-
formities, while that of philosophy seeks out and maintains differ-
ences. The latter, however, does not rest in discrete or isolated points
of view ; for the principle of individuality when rightly understood
leads on to a system of individualities. The individual, that is, just
because it is not a mere particular but possesses character or sig-
nificance, is a member of a world or system of individuals. Every-
thing however depends upon rightly apprehending the nature of the
universal that at onces unifies and individualizes its members. That
is, neither aspect of the individual reality must be taken apart from
the other. If we say that the individual is the synthesis of the
particular and the universal, we must remember that these aspects
have no meaning apart from each other, they are not elements exist-
ing separately out of which we have to compound the individual
whole. The universal is not something to be pictured existentially,
either as a connecting link, or a common element in different individ-
uals. Philosophy is indeed speculation or seeing, 'but its light must
not be confused with representation in the form of imagery. As
reason, i.e., the integral mind in its totality and completest effort
after the real thing, it has the form of universality and freedom.
That is, it is not bound down and controlled, as in the ordinary
routine of practical life, by the first form of particularity and hard
isolation, but sees beyond these and comprehends their true reality
and significance in terms of its own system of concrete truth.
The conclusion we have reached, then, is that the philosophical
form of intelligibility is that of a concrete universal which expresses
the inwardness and essence of individuals through the grasp of their
constitutive relations. Just because modern science is not concerned
with significant individuals, but with abstract aspects taken as bare
"existences," its universal is barely conceptual or nominal. A
scientific law is regarded as simply a generalized formula or abbre-
viated record of correlations between certain abstract aspects of real
PHILOSOPHICAL INTELLIGIBILITY 261
things. The whole purpose of the inquiry is to obtain a summary form
of representing facts so as to afford a convenient and economic means
of dealing with them practically. "The existential point of view"
is neither that of common-sense nor that of philosophy: it is an
artificial simplification which has its own logic and its own justifica-
tion, adopted and maintained by scientific procedure in accordance
with carefully defined assumptions. It may fairly be characterized
as an external form of representation, indispensable for its own pur-
poses but as contributing nothing directly to philosophical under-
standing. Like Descartes 's material bodies, scientific phenom-
ena may be said to have no insides. In dealing with them the mind
moves, that is, on the plane of external existence and represents
or pictures the relations between them in terms of a logic derived
from space. The statement said to have been made by the late
Lord Kelvin that he could understand a theory only when he was
able to represent it in a drawing, illustrates well the point I have
in mind. This seems to be the form of intelligibility toward which
all the sciences look as their ideal.
But philosophy in its own domain has no concern with the bare
form of existence. To achieve the form of intelligibility at which
it aims it is indeed necessary that the mind shall understand the
truth that is contained in this abstract standpoint, but it has also to
free itself from the domination of existential imagery in order to
rise to freedom and universality. It is, however, important to note
that freedom from imagery is not identical with withdrawal from
what is actual and concrete. The real world is the world of
significant individual wholes constituted by reflective experience;
not that of the superficial and conflicting impressions of practical
life.
J. E. CREIGHTON.
COENELL UNIVERSITY.
MEASURES OF INTELLIGENCE AND CHARACTER
of the most important questions that arise in connection
with the widespread use of the intelligence examination is:
What part does intelligence, as measured by such a test as the Army
Alpha, play in success in an occupation? The report of the psy-
chological examining in the U. S. Army provides valuable material
pertaining to this question. The median intelligence for various
occupations is given, together with the range of the middle fifty
per cent. (Mem. Nat. Acad. of Sci., 1921, XV, pp. 819 flf.). The
range of intelligence within a given occupation is great and the
overlapping among the occupations is also great, so that for pur-
262 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
poses of vocational guidance the occupations included in the study
would have to be classed into about three groups, such as the pro-
ft-Nsional, the clerical and skilled labor, and the labor class. For a
finer classification other criteria must be adopted.
Two important indicators might be obtained from such data,
namely, the minimum intelligence needed for a given occupation;
and that degree of intelligence that one needs in order to be better
than the average person engaged in the occupation. The value of
this second indicator rests upon the assumption that the greater the
intelligence of the individual the greater his success in any occupa-
tion. The data do not show whether or not this is the case. If in-
telligence were the only condition of success, then degree of success
might be prophesied from degree of intelligence. But other de-
termining factors must at least be sought.
The views expressed by the fourteen psychologists who recently
contributed to a "Symposium on Intelligence" conducted by the
Journal of Educational Psychology (1921, Vol. 12, Nos. 3, 4, and
5) show the increasing importance which is being attached to the
so-called character traits. Although, in every case but one, defin-
ing intelligence so as to exclude the character traits, a plea was
made for recognition of their significance in determining success.
Even in college work where intelligence is considered a prime re-
quisite, an important place is being assigned to these traits. The
limit of correlation to be expected between an intelligence test and
performance in college is probably between -|- .60 and -f- .65.
Other conditions of success are physical health, interest, aggressive-
ness, social qualities, etc., in short what are usually comprised in
the term "character traits" (with the possible exception of physi-
cal health).
The statement has been made recently that there are certain
kinds of work for which the optimum degree of intelligence is not
the maximum degree, for example, in the case of messenger boys,
sales-clerks and even elementary school teachers; and that to seek
for the highest intelligence available may represent misguided ef-
fort. Such a view need not imply, I believe, that a low degree of
intelligence is in itself really better for a given job than a higher
degree of intelligence would be, but rather that one is more likely
to find along with a low degree of intelligence those character traits
that make for success and satisfaction in certain kinds of work.
One might, for example, expect to find the traits that bring success
as a scrub-woman or automatic machine tender and leading to
satisfaction in these simple forms of manual labor accompanying a
low rather than a high intelligence.
The study by Bregman (Journal of Applied Psychology, 1921,
MEASURES OF INTELLIGENCE AND CHARACTER 263
V, 127-151) of sales-clerks and clerical workers shows that with a
given group of applicants the more successful sales-clerks come
from those that get a relatively low score in her series of tests;
while the more successful clerical workers come from the group
that gets the relatively high score. That is, these tests show a nega-
tive correlation with sales ability and a positive correlation with
clerical ability. The tests used to make this distinction between
sales-clerks and clerical workers are those commonly used as parts
of intelligence tests, such as completion of sentences, tests of in-
formation and the various kinds of association tests. When their
scores are combined they give somewhat of an intelligence rating.
Now, is a relatively low intelligence required for success as a
sales-clerk, or does one succeed in spite of low intelligence, because
of the presence of other than intelligence traits, the character
traits?
Otis (Journal of Applied Psychology, 1920, IV, 339-341) found
a zero correlation between success as a mill worker and perform-
ance in his intelligence test. He concludes his report thus: "In-
telligence is not only not required in a modern silk mill for most
operations but may even be a detriment to steady efficient routine
work. What qualities are required remains to be sought. Whether
they are measurable is doubtful. They may be stolidity, patience,
inertia of attention, regularity of habits, etc." The question may
be asked: Is intelligence really a detriment in such occupations,
or is it merely likely to have accompanying it certain character
traits not suited to the task?
If the degree of intelligence possessed by an individual is to be
taken as the indicator of the presence of certain desirable or unde-
sirable character traits the correlation between the two must be
high. A survey of the available material on the relation between
intelligence and character traits shows that the correlation is posi-
tive but that it will probably not go higher than -j- .50. This cor-
relation of -f- .50 accounts for the fact that one can find desirable
character traits in persons of very low intelligence. If the presence
of one can not be taken as the sign of the presence of the other,
then both must be measured. It is quite important to find out the
upper limit as well as the lower limit of intelligence for a given
kind of work merely as a matter of economy of intelligence. But
the need for simple character tests is just as great or even greater.
The rate of labor turnover in certain types of work may well be
expected to be greatest among the workers of high intelligence,
until a measure of the other necessary traits is used along with the
intelligence measure in selecting them. The following quotation
from Fernald (J. of Abnormal Psychology, 1920, XV, 4 ff.) illus-
264 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
trates well the importance of measuring both intelligence and
character in vocational work:
"Two adults, sane personalities, may be contrasted. The one,
A, is a confidential clerk who has forged his employer's signature
at least three times. He passes 'adult' intelligence tests with credit.
His literary and aesthetic tastes are commendable and his thought
mechanisms as discovered by tests and also as discerned in ordi-
nary social and business intercourse are efficient and trustworthy.
In conversation he does not justify forgery ; but admits it is never
justifiable. Yet his love for fast living, fine clothes, automobiles,
costly companionship, etc., have occasioned his failure by forgeries
executed most skillfully. His knowing, inventing, associative and
reasoning capacity is not at fault; but his capacity for resisting,
for denying himself gratification and for acting on the promptings
of his own good foresight are at fault. His weakness is one of be-
havior and in the field of character, and is not one of thinking, and
so in the field of intelligence.
"The other personality, B, is a farm 'chore boy,' an imbecile
as determined by intelligence tests (I. Q. 39), whose conduct record
is good. He milks cows, carries wood and water, etc., under direc-
tion and is in his contracted sphere of activity an economic success.
He is well disposed toward his environment and habitually reacts
acceptably to stimuli within his comprehension capacity. His
weakness is a paucity of knowing, inventing, association, thinking,
etc., a failure in the field of intelligence and not in character. The
findings of intelligence tests only in these two cases are that A is
of at least ordinary intelligence while B is an imbecile. The find-
ings of character study only are that A is legally an offender, an
economic parasite and a social menace, while B is law abiding, a
producer and no menace. Consideration of both fields of inquiry
affords a far broader and more illuminating and therefore true
basis of comparison than is available from the consideration of
either field alone. In fact, conclusions drawn from investigations
in either field to the exclusion of the other are misleading."
If measures of both these qualities are necessary for practical
purposes, there would be an advantage in having a test that would
measure both together a measure of efficiency or adequacy or com-
petence. Such a test would make unnecessary any sharp distinc-
tion between what is intelligence and what is not, and would arouse
less criticism when applied in business and industry. The layman
can not readily make such a distinction, while his crude inference
that the more stupid one is the better he can do a certain job is
likely both to arouse opposition and to introduce certain complica-
tions into the work of testing. The distinction is probably an arti-
MEASURES OF INTELLIGENCE AND CHARACTER 265
ficial one, anyway, depending upon which of the many definitions of
intelligence shall be accepted. In the "Symposium on Intelli-
gence" mentioned above there was at least one psychologist who
defined intelligence broadly enough to include what are ordinarily
called character traits. Thus Freeman says, "I conceive intelli-
gence to be a somewhat more inclusive capacity than is implied
when it is used for a name for our present tests. . . . The mental
capacity designated by the term intelligence seems to me to in-
clude besides the elements which are usually measured by our
tests, certain other types of capacity which they measure not at all.
. . . The characteristic which I am referring to is sometimes called
temperament or moral character."
Thorndike, in an article on "Intelligence and its Uses" (Harp-
er's Magazine, 1920, CXL, 227-235), keeps the layman out of dif-
ficulty by speaking of three intelligences that every one possesses,
the abstract intelligence, the mechanical intelligence and the social
intelligence. This last includes many, if not all, of the so-called
character traits. The definition of intelligence as the "capacity
for adaptation or adjustment to environment" would seem broad
enough also to include the character traits. Fernald, in the article
quoted above, suggests that intelligence may vary in degree, giving
what are called grades of intelligence, and in quality, giving what
are called character traits.
With some modification of content, method of administration,
and with supplementary scoring such a test as the Army Alpha
might be made to yield measures of neatness, accuracy, speed of
decision, freedom from inertia, assurance, willingness to take a
chance, tenacity or perseverance, honesty, etc. The total score
from such a test would give a measure of efficiency or competence.
By proper weighting of the different ingredients of the total score,
measures could be provided for different occupations. Thus, an
occupation for which a low degree of intelligence is adequate, but
which requires honesty and steadiness could be measured by the
efficiency test with the intelligence components and the character
components given suitable weights. The result could be expressed
in a total score for the occupation. It would be still more desirable
to express the efficiency in the form of a profile, in which each com-
ponent of the test, e.g., ability to follow instructions, arithmetical
ability, ability to work with symbols, range of information, honesty,
assurance, etc., could be separately reported and measured against
a standard or pattern for any occupation.
Such a combined measure of intelligence and character, if used
for vocational purposes, would prevent the waste of high grades of
intelligence in positions where it is not needed and would enable
_v>>; JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
those of low intelligence to be located where their capacity would
be adequate and where their character traits would make them
successful. There may be many places in our business and in-
dustrial system where Fernald's case B would fit very well, and
where an individual of a much higher intelligence might find the
monotony intolerable. To refuse an occupation in business and
industry to all persons with an intelligence under seventy per cent,
of normal without examination of their character qualities may
some time appear to be one of the greatest of human and economic
wastes. In the individual of low intelligence but stable character
qualities, may lie a partial remedy for the restlessness induced by
extreme specialization and automaticity of work.
A. T. POFFENBERGER.
COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY.
TWO correspondents, Professors Wilmon H. Sheldon of Yale Uni-
versity, and W. A. Merrill of the University of California,
have written me that "integration" has nothing to do with gradior,
as I assumed it to have in my article ' ' The Need of a New English
Word to Express Relation in Living Nature." (This JOURNAL,
August 18, 1921.) And since Merrill is a Latinist by profession, there
seems nothing for me to do but to admit that at least I was "wrongly
advised" as he considerately puts it. What makes the error the
more troublesome to me is the fact that I do not remember the
source of my advice, nor, so far, am I able to relocate it.
Professor Merrill also informs me that while the Latin ferre
sometimes means, as I stated, bearing in the sense of producing,
the producing is not the kind I meant. It never means producing
in the sense of biological reproducing, I understand him to mean.
It appears, consequently, that the etymological part of my effort
to justify conferentiation as the new word of which our language
is in need, was quite unfortunate.
It is, however, a satisfaction to be told by Professor Merrill that
he sees no objection to the word I propose if I think it is needed ;
for, he says, "The etymology is of no importance, as no one thinks
of an automobile as a self -mover. ' '
Perhaps, then, I ought to be sorry that in this instance I did
not follow, as according to my rule I should have done, the familiar
advice Mr. Lincoln is said to have given in a lecture to law students :
Never try to prove anything you do not have to, because you may
thereby be driven into trying to prove something you can't.
But there is an aspect of the use of words which goes much deeper
THE WORD INTEGRATION 267
than the question of the appropriateness of old words adapted to
new needs. That is the question of the origin of new words. Their
origin I mean, not in the linguistic sense, but in the psycho-biological
sense; the sense, to wit, of the mental and physical needs to which
the words correspond.
The word integration illustrates the point as well as any other.
In defining this word the dictionaries note, of course, its relation to
integrare and then to integer. And the verb integrate, it is usually
mentioned, is related to the past participle integratus. Integer
means whole or undivided, in the sense of being untouched or un-
hurt. And integrare means to renew or restore ; and the participle
integratus means renewed or restored.
Now in order that a thing may be untouched or unhurt, some-
body or something which might touch or hurt the thing is clearly
implied. A toucher or hurter is somewhere near by. Likewise a
restoration necessarily implies somebody or something to do the
restoring. The point is that integration relates to something being
done, to an action it implies a doer, an actor.
This reasoning is, I suppose, about the same that a philologist is
likely to use in treating of the nature of words. But here comes
in a consideration which, though of great interest to the student of
human psycho-biology, does not, so far as I know, appeal greatly
to philologists or at least to linguists. I refer to the usefulness of
words in the sense of biological adaptation.
So far as I have noticed, when the linguist speaks of the use of
words he has in mind the way they are put together to make spoken
and written language, it being taken for granted that language is
the human way of expressing ideas, feelings, etc. But to the modern
biological naturalist, that is to say the naturalist whose hold upon
the present-day conception of the nature and origin of the living
world reaches clear through and all around the conception, words
are among the innumerable agencies devised by the human creature
to aid him in his stupendous task of maintaining himself upon the
earth in progress and happiness. Words, and especially written
words, are vital utilities to man, just as nests are vital utilities to
birds. But just wherein is this utility of words the original and
primeval utility, I mean? In enabling men the more securely and
clearly to fix in their minds, and the more easily to communicate with
one another, the ideas engendered in their minds through their ex-
periences with nature round about them. Viewed thus the verbal
remains of extinct languages are as revelatory of the remote past of
the human mind as the skeletal remains of extinct races and species
are of the remote past of the human body.
Now as to the facts of nature upon which rest the ideas expressed
268 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
by the word integer and its kindred. It is the verbal forms, integrare
and integrate, that are specially interesting from the standpoint
of what I wrote about in my article.
Everybody knows to some extent, but only the naturalist knows
systematically and profoundly, that there are two very distinct
ways in which things are restored or made whole, these depending
upon who or what the restorer or whole-maker is, and upon how the
job is done. One of these ways is that of man working with his
hands under the guidance of his mind; the other is that of nature
working with the innumerable means at its disposal.
I have tried in another place (The Probable Infinity of Nature
and Life, p. 33) to bring out this distinction between the creations
of nature and art, in substance as follows: The human being has
two ways of creating things. One way is by the use of its hands
and brain. The other is by the use of its generative organs. The
first way produces statues and paintings of other human beings.
The second produces real other such beings. And by no possibility
can the one way be substituted for the other.
Men restore automobile tires by half-soling them ; and they make
whole pumps and houses by manufacturing the parts and then as-
sembling these and putting them together properly. Nature re-
stores the humidity of the atmosphere by bringing into it in a
finely divided state, water from the sea; and she makes whole crys-
tals of salt in saturated solutions. But restoration and whole-mak-
ing by these methods are far from all the methods by which restora-
tions and whole-makings are accomplished. For nature restores
worn muscles and brains by the assimilation of nourishment, and it
restores branches of trees and tails of lizards when these have been
lost by accident or otherwise. Further she makes whole new oaks
out of acorns and whole new roosters out of hens' eggs.
These last-mentioned ways of restoring and whole-making biolog-
ical naturalists have studied deeply and broadly, especially during
late decades. And beyond question one of the most important re-
sults of their studies has been to make more definite and penetrating
than before man's perception of the difference between living
nature's way of restoring and whole-making and, on the one hand,
not-living nature's way of doing these things, and on the other
hand, man's way of doing them.
It is, apparently, just because we moderns have perceived these
differences so much more clearly than the peoples from whom we
have largely adopted and adapted our language perceived them,
that we find involved there an idea requiring for its expression some
such newly adapted word as conferentiation.
Professor Merrill makes a remark in his letter which indicates,
THE WORD INTEGRATION 269
I believe, not only how far our predecessors had gone toward such
perception, but also how much they fell short of the distance later
generations have gone in the same direction. ' ' The thought is com-
mon in ancient philosophy," he writes, "of breaking up the whole
into parts and recombining them into something else also whole,
but a new one. Thus Lucretius (iii, 847) says that if the matter
of our bodies were to be recollected again it would mean nothing
because the chain of consciousness would be broken. ' '
From the passage of The Nature of Things here referred to, and
from others that could be pointed out, it seems to me clear that while
Lucretius perceived distinctly enough the uniqueness of living bodies
as contrasted with the elements of which they are composed, he per-
ceived very dimly if at all the essentially transformative processes
involved in organic genesis. Lucretius was, I think, far behind
Aristotle in this. But even Aristotle knew, of course, only in the
most crude and general way, the commonplace facts with us moderns
of metabolism, growth, and development.
If Professor Merrill is right, as I do not doubt he is, in saying
that ferre has no reference to production in the sense of organic
genesis, then even differentation is really outside the pale of living
nature so far as etymology is concerned. "Arguing from the Latin
directly," he says, "I should say that differentiate means to take
apart . . . with an accessory notion of 'carrying away.' ' Accord-
ing to this the actor, the taker-apart, would seem to be man acting
with hands and brain. It would be man in his role as artist or
artisan. And only by adaptive modification could the word be made
to express the diversification which characterizes organic develop-
ment. However, differentiation has been used and the use has be-
come universal, in the terminology of organic genesis. By adapta-
tive modification it has become thoroughly naturalized in the realm
of living things. To this there is not, as I understand, the slightest
objection.
By parallel reasoning conferentiation could be naturalized in the
same realm to express the unification which characterizes organic
development. And the biological importance of providing differ-
entiation with its natural organic mate, is that the effort which has
been widely made of late to pair differentiation off with integration
is resulting in ideas that are not only confused but are genuinely
harmful, owing to the fact that integration is already bound to dis-
integration as its natural inorganic mate.
One practical consequence of the general employment of integra-
tion in this inconsistent and inorganic sense, I tried to bring out in
my essay. That consequence is the deterring effect such use has
upon perceiving the real nature of the action of bodies or of parts
270 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
of bodies on one another in order to make the resultant new body
truly organic or living. This action is so deeply reciprocal that
(quoting) "while producing determinative change in [each of] the
bodies, at the same time [it] leaves the individuality of these not
only identifiable and unimpaired, but even improved relative to their
former states." The sentence from which this is quoted begins "It
is that relational action in living bodies which, while producing"
etc. (as above).
It now seems to me that instead of conceiving this "relational
action" as operating "m living bodies," as though it were merely
an incident to such bodies, we must conceive it to be of the very
deepest nature of these bodies. Except for this peculiar reciprocal
action apparently no body could possess any of the attributes of life.
I wish now to invite attention to another injurious effect almost
sure to result from a general use of integration as the linguistic mate
of differentiation. Since integration has long been generally ac-
cepted as the antithetic mate of disintegration, the common utiliza-
tion of it in the terminology of human affairs would almost inevi-
tably tend to set it in opposition to differentiation in the sense of
inhibiting it. Or, otherwise stated, since all differentiation involves
change, the tendency would be to make the principle of integration
act as an inhibitor of any change. With the conservative type of
mind, the idea of integration could easily become a new and power-
ful brake upon the wheels of human progress, since it would be the
most natural thing in the world Jfor such minds to believe any
change whatever that did not chance to be to their personal liking,
to portend disintegration rather than progress.
WILLIAM E. RITTER.
LA JOLLA, CALIFORNIA.
BOOK REVIEWS
Russian Dissenters. FREDERICK C. CONYBEARE. Cambridge: Har-
vard University Press. 1921. Pp. 370.
Perhaps no group of Christian believers are more deserving of
study for their psychology and their rites than are the Russian dis-
senters. Few indeed are the religions of Western Europe or America
that are as picturesque or as removed from the common thought of
the world. Yet it may be added that few considerable numbers of
Christians have ever received less attention at home or abroad.
Hitherto in English the chief source has been the descriptive account
of them in M. Leroy-Beaulieu 's Empire of the Tsars and Russians,
and for this reason we welcome the closely historical treatment of
Professor Conybeare.
BOOK REVIEWS 271
Although the author modestly states that his work is a compila-
tion, yet we can not help feeling that his knowledge of Bogomilism
and the allied cults has enabled him to present admirably the strik-
ing similarities between these and the Kussian sectarians. It is the
more remarkable, therefore, that the book does not discuss the pos-
sible direct contacts between Russia and the Bogomils in the early
centuries and the first organized antiecclesiastical organization of
Eussia, the sect of the Strigolniks which appeared in Pskov in the
fourteenth century. Similarly we miss any description of the
Judaizers, who were able to place on the metropolitan see of Holy
Russia in 1493 a man who was almost a convert to the Jewish faith.
We should also like to know the opinion of Professor Conybeare on
the Armenian Martin whom later stories (probably apocryphal) re-
garded as the originator of the rites of the Old Believers.
Unfortunately the righteous indignation of the author at the
stupid and tyrannical government of the Tsar has led him to be
unjust to the Orthodox Church. He rightly emphasizes the dislike
and the dismay with which the peasants greeted the centralizing policy
of Moscow. He does not emphasize the cause of that policy. To him
the Tartar invasion means that a savage people had wiped from the
earth a peaceful and developing native civilization (p. 26). This
has been a popular idea since the World War and the Russian Rev-
olution. Centuries of bloody Civil War in Russia which culminated
in the sack of Kiev in 1169 and the accounts of the old Russian slave
trade luridly deny that the source of all evil lay in the autocracy.
It may well be argued that it was only the policy of autocracy,
bribery and servility inaugurated by Moscow with the blessing of
the Church that succeeded in unifying Russia and saving Moscow
from that permanent foreign control which ruined Kievan Russia
for centuries. The Troublous Times and the occupation of the
Kremlin by Poland in 1610 again brought Russia to the verge of
ruin and rendered necessary the changes of the century, although
the unhappy country did not have the trained leaders to undertake
the work.
In the rough manner of his time Nikon endeavored to carry out
needed reforms. If we read the virulent denunciation of the Pa-
triarch on p. 19 and the criticism of his reforms on p. 42, we notice
a contrast. Nikon fought to free the clergy from a humiliating posi-
tion as the slave of the mir. He fought against a narrow nationalism
which hated the Latins, loathed the Kievan monks and despised the
Greeks. Awakum and his followers were far less concerned that
Nikon used a poor Greek manuscript than that he used a Greek
manuscript at all. One of the chief problems was the decrees of the
272 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
Stoglav Council. This supported the contention of the nationalists,
but is it "monstrously critical" for the Orthodox to doubt the
validity of decrees passed in 1551 and invoked for the first time in
1642 f The innovations of the Old Believers probably arose in the
fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. It is hard to see how they could
have originated during the period when all the higher ecclesiastics
were themselves Greek, and the Church was absolutely an exotic
growth (p. 3).
The same unwillingness to recognize anything but might as on the
side of the Orthodox is a sad blemish on the entire work. The
"jaundiced narrative" of Ivanovski (p. 115) denies the moral ex-
cellences of the thief and forger Bishop Epiphanius. The four
bishops who succeeded him were so obviously of an unsatisfactory
character that the author forbears to mention them.
The author has gone too far in his endeavor to deny or defend
suicide by fire. The teachings of Avvakum (quoted in Anderson,
Raskol and the Sects, p. 130) recommend it. The stikh of the
Woman Alleluia ascribed this teaching to Christ himself (Porfirev,
History of Russian Literature, Vol. I, p. 355). Finally M. Leroy-
Beaulieu cites a number of modern instances (op. cit., Vol. Ill, p. 320).
It would be interesting to explain the purpose of Ivanov in starting
one holocaust after another (p. 154). It is more reasonable to
assume that he was seeking to make martyrs of his disciples or dupes.
The chapter on marriage is very full but again the author's
enthusiasm for the sectarians leads him to veil in many words what
may seem to be an unpleasant condition. The key to the entire
question is to be found on p. 193. "The 'marriageless' sectary may
not approve of unions concluded for the whole of life, but find it a
burden. He aspires to another type of conjugal relationship, a type
which more nearly approximates to the ancient Slavonic free union,
dissoluble by the will of either party. He has scanty regard for the
Byzantine type of family which has only gained currency in Russia
during the last few centuries." Nestor and the early chroniclers
declared that the early pagan Slavs practised free love and had no
conception of family life. The Orthodox sacrament of matrimony
and the life-long monogamy seem to have been inseparably connected
in the minds of the Russians and the loss of one necessarily destroyed
the other. Certain of the sectarians were able to develop the old-
fashioned Protestant conception of marriage and were able to bring
order into their life. Others endeavored to satisfy their consciences
in various ways and we learn that many of the Raskol were living in
relationships which even their own code would not approve (p. 209).
These relationships were tolerated and we need only mention the
BOOK REVIEWS 273
demoralizing influence of such manners. What part does this play
in the rumors of various marriage innovations since the Russian
Eevolution ?
Turning to the second part of the work, we note with regret that
Professor Conybeare did not make use of the recent work of Bonch-
Bruyevich, Materials for the History and Study of the Russian Sects
and RaskoL In this there is published a large collection of the songs
of the Dukhobortsy. We may add that many of the scholars of
Russian religion, such as Vladimir Anderson, group the Dukhobortsy
together with the Khlysty, and many of their documents, edited by
Bonch-Bruyevich, testify to their belief in this similarity. They are
certainly more closely related than are the Dukhobortsy and the
Stundists. Finally Professor Conybeare does not mention the spirit-
ual dynasty of the Dukhobortsy, one of their chief characteristics.
Aylmer Maude in his work, A Peculiar People, describes in detail the
via dolorosa leading to the emigration to Canada. He also reveals
his disgust at the trickery of Tchertkoff and the leaders of the Dukh-
obortsy toward those who were helping the poor Russians. This
omission relieves the author of mentioning the naked pilgrimages and
other events 1 which present the "true soul of the Russian peasant"
in a less favorable light.
The account of the Mystical Sects could also be improved by the
use of the work of Bonch-Bruyevich. Their denial of the unique deity
of Christ gains for them a certain amount of approval, though we
should like to hear more of the succession of Christs among them.
Professor Conybeare mildly remarks that some of their Christs may
impose upon their followers (p. 343), but he really disapproves of
no sectarian save the "obscene fanatic" Selivanov. This man was
once a member of the Khlysty or "People of God" as they prefer
to be called, and the violence of the Skoptsy can easily be interpreted
as a reaction from unrestrained license in the parent sect. In this
connection we may mention the career of Shchetinin. This man
(the subject of a long study by Bonch-Bruyevich) founded the sect
of the Chemreki, which was an acknowledged branch of the Khlyst
movement. He openly preached religious immorality and main-
tained his position for some years. There have been many similar
teachers, notably the famous Rasputin, who operated in Russian court
circles. Apologists for the sectarians have usually denied that these
men represented any element of the Khlysty, but in such a case they
should group them as representative of a certain tendency perhaps
connected with the Slavonic free union.
i The most recent of these was a threat by the God-man, Peter Verigin, to
kill all the children of the community as a protest agadnst the Canadian govern-
ment. (New York Times, February 21, 1922.)
274 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
The author again has not sufficiently emphasized the importance
which mystic anarchy has had on the entire movement. Most of the
sects which have been opposed to the government of the Tsar were
opposed not because it was autocratic, but because it was a govern-
ment. The refusal of military service, the refusal of the oath of
allegiance, the refusal to pay taxes, all recur with monotonous regu-
larity in the accounts of these sects. The World War brought them
to the attention of this Government (see the article of Dean Stone
in the Columbia University Quarterly, Vol. XXI, p. 263). Their
opposition to secular government does not render them opposed to
autocratic rule by their Christ-ruler, and in the course of time it will
probably be seen that these sects are less of a trouble in an autocracy
than in any form of democracy.
We may well compare the Russian sectarian movements to a sea
with certain main currents. On the surface of these currents are
various waves which rise and fall in constant changing struggle.
These waves are the individual sects. None of them has ever formu-
lated any definite code; none of them, save the Austrian Hierarchy
of the Popovtsy, has maintained a clear and distinct history similar
to that of the leading Protestant sects of Western Europe. Most of
them form sympathetic but disorganized groups with no external
discipline and any movement is liable in different places to produce
all types of leaders, from the pious efficiency of Denisov to the
savagery of Selivanov. For this reason it is as impossible to approve
their principles as a movement as it is to condemn their excesses as
a sign of general decadence.
In conclusion we may say that the book would have been far
more valuable had the author not been so animated with the belief
that it is "the heretics and dissenters [of both hemispheres] who
will point the way [to unity] and by their example shame formalists
into true charity" (p. 258). He has brought together a great mass
of valuable material, but his constant tendency to champion the cause
of the dissenter and to omit or deny any aspects which do not preju-
dice us in his favor weakens the book. The reader should most
certainly supplement this work with that of M. Leroy-Beaulieu, who
has described the defects of the Orthodox Church of Russia no less
severely, but has endeavored at the same time to write impartially
of the different sectarian movements and to evaluate their real signi-
ficance for Russia and civilization.
CLARENCE AUGUSTUS MANNING.
COLUMBIA UNIVEHSITT.
BOOK REVIEWS 275
Bibliotheca Chemico-Mathematica : A Catalogue of works in many
tongues on Exact and Applied Science, With a Subject Index.
Compiled and annotated by H. Z. and H. C. S. 2 Vols. London :
Henry Sotheran and Co. 1921. Pp. 964.
These two volumes are made up of three booksellers' catalogues
and an index. They form, however, one of the most available bibli-
ographies of the history of miodern science. In each of the three
catalogues the authors are arranged in alphabetic order, and natur-
ally a great many of the books entered are of little general interest.
But the full and elaborate index, giving also the dates of the differ-
ent works referred to, is a highly useful key to any one interested
in the history of science. As is to be expected under the circum-
stances, the collection is very uneven as regards completeness. Thus
there are no entries on Brownian movement, on the theory of quanta
or on the algebra of logic, and almost nothing on statistical methods.
Even when the bibliography is rather full as in theoretic physics, some
of the very great and epoch-making treatises, like that of Bocovich
which united the work of Newton and Leibniz, are missing. On other
topics, however, such as the history of alchemy, the modern theory
of solutions, or the history and theory of electricity, the lists are
more adequate.
The many annotations to the titles, giving biographic and
historical information, are as a rule rather interesting and lively.
' ' The pioneers of science have never been of the dry as dust order. ' '
Students of philosophy may be surprised to learn that the com-
mon sense realism of Reid was originated by D. Abercrombie 's Acade-
mia Scientarum or History of Natural Sciences, 1687 ; and it is in-
structive to learn that the authorship of a book on the Varieties and
Uncertainties of Aries and Sciences landed Agrippa von Nettesheim
in prison. As these annotations are generally based on secondary
sources, some of them are rather misleading. Thus it is not true
that the phlogiston theory retarded the progress of science. Like
other false hypotheses it led to a great deal of new investigation and
hence to the progress of science.
Perhaps the most interesting feature of these two volumes is the
large number of plates giving portraits of the greatest of the scien-
tists and facsimiles of the actual texts of the older books. The most
cursory examination of these illustrations will give one an extraordi-
narily vivid sense of the intellectual vitality of previous centuries,
and dispell the fashionable but foolish idea that before Darwin
or Newton the world dwelt in utter scientific darkness.
The annotators, H. Zeitlinger and H. C. Sotheran, have not al-
ways made the most of their opportunities. I am tempted to give
two instances. Colenso's Algebra is entered without noting that it
276 JOURNAL OP PHILOSOPHY
is by the same Bishop Colenso who upset the old biblical theology
in England by his book on the Pentateuch in which his mathematical
reasoning created great distress for those who regarded every story
in the Bible as literally true. Colenso thus lost his bishopric on
account of his mathematical proclivities. The second case is the
entry of W. Carpenter's pamphlet on, Water not Convex, the Earth
not a Globe, 1871. This is part of a famous law-suit. A wager hav-
ing been made that the convexity of the earth could not be proved,
Alfred Russell Wallace proceeded to do so with optical instruments
on the water-level of a canal. The loser of the wager, however, re-
fused to pay the bet. W. Carpenter was the dissenting referee, and
his pamphlet illustrates how hard it is for experimental evidence to
prevail over general convictions.
MORRIS R. COHEN.
COLLEGE or THE CITY or NEW YORK.
JOURNALS AND NEW BOOKS
JOURNAL OF EDUCATIONAL PSYCHOLOGY. September,
1921. An Experimental and Statistical Study of Reading and Read-
ing Tests: ARTHUR I. GATES (303-314). -First of three installments.
Conclusions and summary in the November issue. Constancy of the
Stanford-Binet I. Q. as shown by Retests: HAROLD RUOG and CECILE
COLLOTON (315-322). -An examination of the reports of Terman,
Cuneo, Garrison, Poull, Wallin, Fermon and Stenquist was made.
The conclusion drawn is that "much confidence can be put on a
single I. Q. if the examination is made by experienced and well-
trained examiners who use rigorously the standardized procedure for
giving the test. ' ' Recent studies, except those of Fermon and Sten-
quist, closely confirm Terman in his earlier statements. The com-
parison of the findings of Fermon and Stenquist with those of other
studies throws great doubt on the validity of the examining which
was done by their workers. Constancy of I. Q. in Mental Defectives,
according to the Stanford Revision of Binet Tests: LOUISE E. POULL
(323-324). -126 inmates of the Children's Hospital on Randall's
Island, New York City, were retested. The interval between the
first and second tests varied from six months to three years; age
of subjects from 4 to 28 years ; the I. Q. of the first test varied from
20 to 90. The subjects as a group did not deteriorate, the average
change was an increase of -f 1.28. The question of the constancy
of I. Q. is not settled. A large percentage of the cases shows varia-
tions which operate to change the classification and in cases above the
obvious imbecile type, only observation and retesting can discover
NOTES AND NEWS 277
the individuals who require permanent supervision or institutional
care. Mental growth and the I. Q.: LEWIS M. TERMAN (325-341).-
The work of Dr. Doll is examined. "His own conclusions are so often
either contrary to his facts or else irrelevant to them that verification
is always necessary. ' ' The article is continued in the October issue.
Department for Discussion of Research Problems. Notes on Articles
in Educational Psychology in Current issues of other Magazines.
Special Review of Mrs. Burgess's Monograph on Silent Reading.
New Publications in Educational Psychology and Related Fields
of Education.
Root, William T., Jr. A Socio-Psychological Study of Fifty-three
Supernormal Children. (Psychological Monographs, Vol. XXIX,
No. 4.) Princeton, N. J. : Psychological Review Co. 1921. Pp.
134.
Spiller, G. A New System of Scientific Procedure : Being an Attempt
to Ascertain, Develop, and Systematise the General Methods
Employed in Modern Enquiries at Their Best. London: Watts
&Co. 1921. Pp.441.
NOTES AND NEWS
To the Members of the American Philosophical Association, Eastern
Division:
At its Annual Meeting, December 30, 1921, the American Philo-
sophical Association (Eastern Division) appropriated a considerable
part of its available funds for literary aid to European universities
and scholars. The vote on the resolution was unanimous. The great
need for books and journals on the part of foreign scholars impov-
erished by the war and its consequences impressed the Association
when it was brought to the attention of the Meeting. From the
editors among its membership it learned also of the many requests
from abroad for gifts of current journals requests which the
several reviews have often met, but which as a whole their resources
do not allow them to satisfy. Finally, it was felt that this was a
form of international cooperation which all could approve.
The Association appropriated two hundred dollars one third of
its balance for this purpose. In the discussion of the motion, the
hope was also expressed that additional gifts of money or books
might be received from individuals. The management of the fund
was entrusted to the Committee on International Cooperation, which
met immediately and appointed Professors Woodbridge and Cohen
a sub-committee to take direct charge of the work. Arrangements
278 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
have now been perfected for the forwarding and distribution, with-
out cost, of whatever we may be able to give. It is very desirable
that any of our members who feel able to contribute, or to spare
books or journals from their libraries, should communicate with the
sub-committee so soon as may be convenient. In particular, it is
desired to collect works representative of the more recent phases of
American thought. In case of doubt, the sub-committee will be
glad to answer concerning the suitableness of any suggested dona-
tions. Checks may be drawn, and books forwarded to Professor
Frederick J. E. Woodbridge, Columbia University, New York City,
New York.
A. C. ARMSTRONG, Chairman,
FREDERICK J. E. WOODBRIDGE,
MORRIS R. COHEN.
To the Editors of the JOURNAL OP PHILOSOPHY :
In the interest of the freedom of discussion so essential to philos-
ophy, I wish to protest most respectfully against the position of
Dr. Parkhurst's animadversions on the paper I read before the
American Philosophical Association. To question the evidence for
that which is generally taken for granted is surely one of the func-
tions of a philosopher, and this I tried to do to the best of my ability
in reference to the popular belief in universal evolution, in the sub-
conscious mind, and in induction as the essence of scientific method
(I was very careful to discriminate, as Dr. Parkhurst does not, be-
tween universal evolution and Darwinian natural selection). If
my questionings are based on ignorance or misapprehension, Dr.
Parkhurst and other friends of these doctrines can readily correct me
and thus render a great service to science by guarding others against
similar errors. But to ignore my actual arguments and to deplore
them "chiefly for the improper use to which they might be put" by
obscurantists in Kentucky or in a New York newspaper, seems to
me to introduce or revive a most unwarranted and dangerous res-
traint on the freedom of philosophic discussion. Surely the danger
from misuse by temporarily popular obscurantists (and what utter-
ance of man is guaranteed against such misuse?) is much less serious
than the danger from philosophers suppressing their opinions, even
before their colleagues, lest obscurantists misuse such expression.
Would not such a policy be itself literally the veriest obscurantism?
Similarly, because philosophy has nothing to gain by introducing
into its discussions the passionate intolerances of the marketplace,
it seems to me unfortunate to have philosophic papers characterized
in moral terms such as "cynical," etc. In view of the uncontradicted
NOTES AND NEWS 279
agreement (expressed by Prof. Pratt) which my paper received at
its reading, a reasonable respect for our fellow-philosophers' power
to express their dissent makes it doubful whether many besides Dr.
Parkhurst felt a disapproval so intense that "nothing short of a
pitched battle would have promised satisfaction." But in any case
the interest of philosophic clarity would have been better served by
refuting rather than merely condemning my contentions.
Finally, Dr. Parkhurst sets up the authority of Prof. Bateson.
Bateson is undoubtedly a great authority on biologic variation, but
not on philosophic discussion. In any case I may retort that it is
possible to have faith in experimental science and have little use for
the concept of evolution witness the work of our leading experi-
mental biologist, Jacques Loeb, whose condemnation of the scientific
use of the concept of evolution is much more drastic than anything I
ventured to say. I might similarly cite the position of our leading
anthropologist, Professor Boas, with reference to social evolution.
It is too bad that we live in a world in which the advanced scien-
tific thought of sixty years ago has not yet penetrated to some of
the multitude. But we must not suddenly become panicky on ac-
count of this, and limit our own freedom of thought and expression
and prevent intellectual progress. Whatever the Mosaic cosmology
may be to the multitude, it is undoubtedly a mjyth to most philos-
ophers. But the refusal of philosophers to recognize the mythical
character of popular doctrine of universal evolution, has led to
unjustifiable dogmatism by dulling the critical edge of the sense
for evidence. Dr. Parkhurst may call this view skepticism or even
obscurantism, but I see no reason for making it esoteric.
Respectfully yours,
MORRIS E. COHEN
The New York Branch of the American Psychological Associa-
tion met on Monday, April 24, in Schermerhorn Hall, Columbia
University. The following papers were read :
Dr. F. Lyman Wells : A Method of Memory Examination adapted
to Psychotic Cases.
Dr. Beardsley Ruml: Notes on Applied Psychology.
Dr. Clara F. Chassell: A Test of Ability to Weigh Foreseen
Social Consequences.
A meeting of the Aristotelian Society was held on March 20,
1922, Professor G. Dawes Hicks in the Chair. Professor R. F. A.
Hoernle read a paper on "Some Byways of the Theory of Knowl-
edge," a synopsis of which follows:
280 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
In the attempt to give scientific precision to their language,
some philosophers have introduced into the theory of knowledge
a new distinction, viz., the distinction between first-hand knowl-
edge and second-hand knowledge (or knowledge mediated by sym-
bols), alongside of the current distinctions between "knowledge
by acquaintance" and "knowledge by description," or "immediate
acquaintance" and "thought." Acquaintance and immediate
of language and of analysis, whereas first-hand knowledge (e.g., that
experience are, in current theory, commonly characterized by absence
of a botanist engaged in research) may involve any amount of
analysis and symbols of all sorts. Yet there will be no divorce of
description from acquaintance, or of thought from immediate data,
but the data will be ordered and will acquire significance, and their
meaning will come to the investigator as fulfilled and realized in
a sense in which it can not do to one who merely reads his account
at second-hand. The choice of terminology is no mere matter of
words, for it is a choice of meanings, and therefore of the qualities
and relations which we affirm as "true" and "real" of the object
under discussion. Definition does not help, for it leaves open the
question whether anything bearing the character defined exists.
The suggestion was made that a comparative and systematic study
of philosophical languages is much to be desired, as a preliminary to
rational choice, and, in any case, as a help to better mutual under-
standing.
VOL. XIX, No. 11 MAY 25, 1922
THE JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
ME. RUSSELL'S PSYCHOLOGY
discussion of certain points in Mr. Russell's Analysis of
*" Mind is animated by no hostile spirit. I fully recognize that
criticism of a view with which one has nothing in common is likely
to lead to nothing but an unprofitable wrangle ; but I seem, to my-
self at least, to possess many vital points of agreement with Mr.
Russell.
1. We are agreed, I think, that philosophies should be, and are,
experiments with life, and both hold our own in this experimental
spirit.
2. We are both, in consequence, willing to learn from experience
in the widest sense, and in every possible way.
3. I recognize in Mr. Russell, not only a writer whom it is always
a pleasure and a profit to read, but also a philosopher who is emi-
nently clear-headed and honest both of them qualities which are
by no means as common as it is polite to suppose. To discuss a
philosopher who plays with his cards on the table and scorns to keep
an additional set of trumps up his sleeve, and moreover plays them
for all they are worth, can not but yield a good game, clarifying
and instructive, in which the victory may be disputed to the end.
4. The Analysis of Mind is to me a most welcome recognition
of the need every serious philosophy should feel of coming to terms
with psychology. So long as this need is not recognized, the present
miserable state of the philosophic sciences seems bound to continue.
Our logics must continue to be meaningless, our ethics and esthetics
to be nullities, our metaphysics to be phantasies of personal idiosyn-
crasy, our psychologies to be servile and futile imitations of natural
sciences, while the whole strength of philosophy is dissipated in
intestine discords. The philosophic sciences, like the nations, must
learn to cooperate, or perish.
But to cooperate they must be willing to make concessions on
both sides, and explore every possibility of success, however novel
and repulsive it may seem to our innate conservatism. It is no argu-
ment against Behaviorism or Psychoanalysis or Psychical Research
that they shock our prejudices.
For this reason I can not resent even the parts of Mr. Russell's
analysis which I most dissent from, and shall select for special con-
281
282 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
sideration in preference to the far more extensive portions of which
I admire the substance as well as the form. I take no exception to
his penchant for Behaviorism, which he has, very candidly, set down
in part to personal bias in this very JOURNAL. (Vol. XVI, No. 1).
I am quite willing to grant that if Behaviorism can be shown to work,
even as a method, it corroborates thereby its claim to truth : only its
advocates should endeavor to show also that it works better than any
extant alternative. If, however, it is associated with a psychological
analysis which does not work at all and so points to a more radical
correction than any which Behaviorism is in a position to offer, it en-
counters the suggestion that the whole Frage-stellung it shares with
orthodox psychology may be mistaken. It may be necessary to trace
the source of the trouble a long way back ; it may be our duty to point
out that it may not suffice simply to drop the antithesis of psychical
and physical, which, however futile and unworkable it may have be-
come in its present elaboration, was not originally a heaven-descended
datum in the human mind, but a difficult achievement which per-
formed definite scientific services. And unless we can get these
services performed in some other way, it will not relieve our philo-
sophic embarrassment to summon the behaviorist simply to club
the mind into unconsciousness. In the end, however, I find I can
pretty well accept Mr. Russell's estimate of Behaviorism. I agree
that it does not result in an adequate account of the data of psy-
chology, though it does excellent service in challenging the conven-
tional descriptions of these data and in paving the way for their
systematic reconsideration.
I am more inclined to deplore that Mr. Russell's own method of
curing the defects of our existing psychologies should turn out to be
so atavistic. It takes the form of a reversion to a type of psychol-
ogizing which has had a great past, but should have no future.
One had hoped that in spite of its intrinsic plausibility, attested
once more by Mr. Russell's conversion to it, it had been definitely
antiquated. I refer of course to the psychological type of which
Hume is the greatest exponent and the Kantian Criticism the most
imposing monument.
The characteristic features of this psychology are (1) as regards
its data, that it is highly pluralistic, (2) as regards its method, that
it is abstract analysis in search of the "simple" and elemental,
conducted from the standpoint of an extraneous observer. Both
these assumptions, however, owe their undeniable plausibility, not
so much to their inherent merit or proved success in describing the
explicanda, as to the extraneous strength they derive from their
consonance with common-sense prejudices.
MR. RUSSELL'S PSYCHOLOGY 283
1. This psychological analysis assumes that it can start with an in-
definite plurality of entities or facts, out of which psychic structures
can be built. Hume calls them "impressions" and "ideas," Russell
"sensations" and " images"; but 'both agree that they are fundamen-
tal, elemental, and practically adequate for the construction of a psy-
chology. Russell, for example, may sometimes be found to declare
that his "main thesis" is that "all psychic phenomena are built
up out of sensations and images alone. ' ' * Actually these structures
do require (and employ) a minimum of mortar, both in Hume and
in Russell. This is introduced under the names of "association,"
"causality," "memory," "expectation," and sundry "relations,"
such as "meaning." But their presence and activity are so little
emphasized that they are even verbally denied, as in the passage just
quoted, and they are supposed to have no special significance for
psychological theory. The fundamental feature primarily recog-
nized about a mind is that it is (or contains) a plurality, and that
its unity is secondary and derivative. Consequently when the prob-
lem of its unity comes up, as in the end it must, this type of psy-
chology has need of principles of synthesis, to compact together
the atomic succession of events into which it has dissolved the mind.
It ought, therefore, to be as grateful to Kantian apriorism for
providing synthetic principles with such lavish prodigality as the
latter should be proud to claim descent from the Humian ' * analysis
of mind. ' '
Not only, moreover, are the systems of Hume and Kant logically
interdependent, but they are also derived, psychologically, from the
same source. Both presuppose the common-sense analysis of expe-
rience and derive their real strength from it. It is because we all
habitually take our experience as the product of impressions made
on us by a plurality of external things that we find it so easy to
accept Hume's psychology as its logical development. It is only at
a much later stage of psychological reflection, when Hume's method
has clearly failed to account for some of the most patent facts of
ordinary experience, that we realize the need of raising the problem
of psychological description ab initio and become willing to inquire
whether an entirely different set of assumptions will not lead to a
more adequate account. And then we speedily convince ourselves
that the plurality, which common-sense, Hume, and Russell, all
treat as a datum, is not present in the original experience, and is
at best a construction resulting from a course of philosophic reflec-
tion.
2. As regards method, Russell's psychology possesses three char-
acteristics which it is easy to overlook.
i Anal of Mind, p. 279. Cf. p. 121. Italics mine.
284 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
(a) That his analysis should everywhere seek for the "simple"
and the "element" is merely consequential on his assumption that
the data are plural. He can, and must, believe that there are simple
elements to be discovered, because he has assumed that the original
datum is a compositum and not a continuum.
(6) He can assume this, because his method is not concerned
with the actual course of mental development, but with an ideal
description of its products. It takes an adult mind and rearranges
its contents in a systematic and esthetically pleasing order. It does
not take into account that of such accounts there may be a great
number, and that neither their results nor their procedures need
have any relevance, significance or value for the study of actual
mental development.
For mental development is not a mere playground for theories.
It is an historically given fact both in the individual and in the race.
The only questions that should arise about it are as to what is the
most complete and convenient description of what has actually
happened. There should, therefore, be only a single history of this
process that can justly claim to be authentic. A psychological "an-
alysis" of mind, on the other hand, is not thus strictly tied down
to a course of happening. It can take an actual mind and describe
its contents in whatever language it prefers. It can choose the
standpoint from which it analyzes, the direction in which it looks,
the terminology it employs, the terminals it reaches. And all these
may be varied. Evidently therefore there may be many psycholog-
ical analyses of mind. They may differ widely in esthetic merit,
elegance and ease, and yet may all fulfill the function of "analyz-
ing" mind. But there will be no antecedent guarantee that any of
them will have any affinity or relation to any history of mental
development.
(c) The moment therefore an "analysis" is required to comply
with other than esthetic conditions and to conform to the facts of
psychic development, it ceases to be a matter of indifference from
what standpoint, with what methods, and with what purpose, we
manipulate the mind. It will make a great difference, e.g., whether
we conceive ourselves as agents or as spectators, and describe the
subject-matter of our psychology as an Erlebnis or as an object
to be contemplated by an extraneous observer. The latter (if he
can allow himself to forget that he is observing with his mind) can
very well come to doubt whether there are minds to observe. For
the objects he is observing are all of them physical, i.e., bodies per-
forming actions called "intelligent"; but he can quite well ascribe
their intelligence to habit, instinct and "mnemic causation," with-
out any mention of consciousness, desire, will, or purpose.
MR. RUSSELL'S PSYCHOLOGY 285
This is the method Mr. Russell employs with much ingenuity and
success. He is moreover well aware of what he is doing. He re-
peatedly confesses that he is "a trained observer with an analytic
attention" "viewing man from the outside" (pp. 298, 255), who
admires the method of behaviorism, though he can not quite admit
that "the analysis of knowledge can be effected entirely by means
of purely external observation" (pp. 230, 157). But even when he
takes his stand within the soul, he is still playing the observer. He
is ruthless, therefore, towards "logical fictions," like the "subject,"
which are not revealed by observation (p. 141). He is also aware
that his method is anything but naive, that his "data" and "partic-
ulars," "sensations," "matter," "perspectives" and "biographies"
are anything but experiences of the plain man and are really highly
sophisticated and elaborated creations of theory (p. 298).
What unfortunately he does not appear to recognize is the exist-
ence of alternatives to his procedure, which are at least as capable
of apperceiving the facts, of satisfying common sense, and even of
appreciating behaviorism. Mr. Russell's blindness to these alterna-
tives is so remarkable that I must make an effort to describe them
and to show why and where they may be regarded as definitely
superior to Russell's "analysis."
1. It may be pointed out that an external observer is not well
placed to appreciate the biological significance of intelligent action.
An intelligent act is after all one that is related to the life, aims and
welfare of the organism which performs it. It is essentially a salu-
tary response to the stimulus of a vital situation, in which an un-
intelligent response might be fatal. Hence the simplest and easiest
form of such response must be adopted as our unit, if we really mean
to trace the history of mental development, and not merely to amuse
ourselves with fancy analyses. This obvious consideration at once
non-suits all the "elements" of the ordinary psychologies. "Sensa-
tions," "cognitions," "conations," and "feelings," are all equally
hard to justify as occurring in fact. They not only seem to be ex
post facto fictions of theory, but fictions that can not possibly be con-
ceived as original constituents of a functioning mind. For the
simple reason that the simplest response accompanied by conscious-
ness implies the presence and cooperation of them all. No actual
psychic process can conceivably be pure "cognition" or mere "will-
ing" or bare "feeling." No mind that is biologically viable can
possibly be constructed out of the "elements" which are postulated
in the traditional psychologies. A biologically possible analysis
can not start from anything less than the whole process involved in
an act, viz., a response to stimulation which is salutary, or harmful,
and is selected accordingly.
286 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
On the other hand there is no reason why such a response should
not be treated as a case of behavior. We may therefore concede to
behaviorism that it is a legitimate subject of inquiry how far be-
havior is conscious and involves real understanding. There is really
far more affinity between .behaviorism and pragmatism (as the case
of Dewey shows) than between behaviorism and Humism. Only the
biologically minded pragmatist will want to know why, if conscious
activity exists and can be detected, psychological description should
be bound to abstract from it. The plea that the method of natural
science abstracts from it and assumes the standpoint of the external
observer, is not convincing. For in dealing with animals and atoms
no other standpoint is accessible. But in the case of psychology
we happen to have direct access to the inside of the subject. Being
agents ourselves, we can tell what agency feels like. Is it not then
fatuous to contend that its nature can not be known? Of course
the term "knowledge" can be technically restricted to what is
visible to an external observer ; but to restrict psychology accordingly
would merely .be to argue in a circle. Actually the psychologist has
a choice between the two standpoints ; he can occupy either, and even
if he finds that of the agent more intimate, fruitful and congenial,
he can eke it out with external observation when this seems expedient.
2. He has a similar choice in conceiving his subject-matter. He
is not bound to postulate that a plurality of "sensations" or "partic-
ulars" shall be his datum. He may conceive his datum as a con-
tinuum which is gradually and progressively differentiated into a
plurality. Only, if he does, he must make the corresponding changes
in his formulation of psychological problems. He must no longer
represent the discovery of "simple elements" as the aim of his
analysis, but must treat the mind as a real entity, never less than a
complete organism even in the earliest stages of its growth. And
withal he should give up the search for "synthetic principles."
For, as his mind never gets dissociated into atomic "sensations," it
does not need to be put together again. Principles of discrimination
are what he will need in order to analyze his initial continuum into
a number of distinct aspects the "things" of common sense. Thus
what is datum for one method will be result for the other, and the
continuity, which the one labors vainly to attain, the other can take
for granted.
Upon trial, this alternative method develops several advantages.
(a) It is much easier to derive the apparent plurality in the
mind than to construct its unity, and the latter task has proved too
much for the acutest philosophers of the last two centuries. If we
postulate a dust-heap of sensations or "manifold of sense" as the
MB. RUSSELL'S PSYCHOLOGY 287
basis for our reconstruction of a "mind," we set out on a search
for an elusive "synthesis." We not only have to put together our
disjointed jig-saw puzzle into a coherent picture, but have to make
its parts cohere. And this the synthetic principles alleged can not
do. Alike whether they are alleged with the skeptical smile of Hume,
with the naive complacency of Kant, with the candid bewilderment
of Mill, or with the airy insouciance of Russell, they inevitably
provoke the question "But how do your synthetic principles bind
together the dissociated mind-stuff you supply them with?" And
the inevitable answer is "Nohow! " Hence Hume, after trying
whether "associating ideas in the imagination" would not do 2 and
furtively smuggling in a "feigned" self under the name of
"memory," conceived as a faculty for "raising up images of past
perceptions" that "not only discovers the identity but also con-
tributes to its production," 3 gaily confesses his bankruptcy. "If
perceptions are distinct existences, they form a whole only by being
connected together. But no connections among distinct existences
are ever discoverable."* So Hume despairs of explaining "the
principles that unite our successive perceptions in our thought or
consciousness." Mill, after recognizing associations, memories and
expectations, is distressed to find that they commit him to the "in-
explicable fact" that a mind "which ex hypothesi is but a series of
feelings can be aware of itself as a series. ' ' 5 Kant never himself got
clear enough about the relations of his epistemology to psychology
to see the difficulty : but the only sense in which he can be said to
have answered Hume is by failing, himself also, to solve Hume's
problem. Of his followers a few have displayed some uneasiness
when confronted with the awkward question how the a priori
' ' forms ' ' could make sure of encountering no recalcitrance from the
"matter" of sensation; the majority realized that the safest way
of dealing with an unanswerable question was not to try to answer
it. So they kept mum about it.
Russell does the next best thing ; he skips lightly over it to start
with. The "subject" or "act" is "unnecessary and fictitious."
He can discover nothing "empirically corresponding to the supposed
act," 6 and "theoretically I can not see that it is indispensable."
It is the "ghost" of the subject, which in turn "once was the full-
blooded soul." Persons are just "bundles," and not "ingredients
2 Treatise (Selby Bigge), p. 259.
s/6., p. 260-1.
J6., p. 635.
s Exam, of Hamilton, p. 247.
Analysis of Mind, p. 17.
288 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
in the single thought." 7 No "observation" reveals the "I," which
is a linguistic convenience, and a logical fiction.* After that, he
appeals to association, memory and expectation, like Hume and Mill,
continues to use the personal pronoun like every one else, and
speaks nonchalantly of the "assent" and "attitudes" involved in
belief." But he has established no right to any of these things, and
has not laid the ghost of the full-blooded soul.
If on the other hand we refuse to murder the full-blooded soul
without a trial, we need have no trouble with the unity of mind.
We shall be entitled to take it as an organic whole (blood and all !)
and to consider merely how we can cut it up without hurting it.
This we shall do by confessing that we were "analyzing" it in
thought alone, admitting that, originally and as given, it is a con-
tinuum and the source of all continuity, and by suggesting principles,
not of synthesis, but of analysis. It will then only remain to be
explained why and how the soul is taken as a plurality and broken
up into "faculties" and "elements." And this is quite easy.
When, as is frequently the case, we are not interested in all of it,
we can neglect the whole and single out "aspects" or "parts" which
seem to us significant and relevant to our momentary purpose. But
it should be clearly understood that this methodological dissection
rests upon abstractions and fictions. We do not really split up the
soul, and in no wise detract from its working unity, as any one can
convince himself even in the act of "contemplating" his feelings or
his past. And when we have done contemplating our selected aspect,
it is quite easy to get rid of it again. We have merely to let it sink
back into the continuous background, out of which it was lifted and
from which it was never really separated. Our recognition of its
plurality, therefore, never endangers the soul's unity.
(5) Neither need our recognition of unity enough in the soui
to enable it to function as a mind prejudice whatever plurality it
may be empirically expedient to recognize. For it does not follow
that plurality is an illusion, because it is not an original datum.
This only proves it secondary in an epistemological, not in an onto-
logical way. Plurality may yet be as real and copious, as vital and
important, as it is found to be. No metaphysical question is pre-
judged or prejudiced. It is only contended that plurality is not
given, but arrived at, and it may be all the better for that.
Moreover, Mr. Russell himself ought to assent to this contention.
For he also admits that by far the greater part of the plurality he
ilb., p. 18.
76., p. Ml.
E.g., ib., pp. 233, 243.
MR. RUSSELL'S PSYCHOLOGY 289
recognizes is not a datum in the sense of being initially given, but
is a secondary product of scientific elaboration. This comes out
well in his account of the ' ' ultimate brief existents that go to make
up the collections we call things or persons." 10 All such "partic-
ulars," his "ultimate simples," whether "the ultimate data of psy-
chology" or "physical objects," are "constructed or inferred." 11
For, strictly, data "do not mean the things of which we feel sure
before scientific study begins, but the things which, when a science
is well advanced, appear as affording grounds for other parts of
the science," and presuppose "a trained observer, with an analytic
attention, knowing the sort of thing to look for and sort of thing
that will be important." 12 Only one little addition is needed to
make this statement entirely acceptable to an activist psychology of
the sort I am advocating. Mr. Russell should have noted also that
a datum need not be a "fact," nor be expressed in a "proposition
of which the truth is known without demonstration, ' ' 13 because it
is enough that it should be taken as fact, and that its truth should
be assumed for the purpose of the argument. For while hypothetical
reasoning has just the same formal features as assertoric, it is only
by taking them hypothetically that logical forms become significant
and valuable.
I welcome also Mr. Russell's doctrine of "perspectives" and
"biographies" so far as it breaks up the unity of the physical object.
This should not only facilitate a recognition that the dichotomy of
experience into the psychical and the physical is an artifice, and may
well be a fiction, but should also moderate the blind and somewhat
fanatical attachment of many realists to the methodological con-
structions of the sciences. But I think it should be added that the
composition of a single object out of a multitude of "perspectives"
seems to be a legitimate process which is pragmatically justified in a
way in which the decomposition of a "mind" is not. For practically,
i.e., as agents, we need to recognize the plurality of things and the
unity of souls.
(c) It is moreover a "theoretic" advantage also to curb the mob
of "analytical" fictions which have too long been allowed to ruu
riot in psychology. In particular, Mr. Russell's accounts of "sen-
sations" and of the cognitive function of "images" afford a welcome
opportunity for the suppression of these fictions. For he is well
aware of their artificial character and of the impossibility of justify-
10 Analysis of Mind, p. 193.
"76., p. 300, 105.
"/ft., p. 298.
is J6., p. 297.
290 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
ing them as data of immediate experience. He sees that they are
constructs and can be data only in his "strict" sense, though hardly
how futile their construction is. Thus he admits that "the sensation
is a theoretical core in the actual experience; the actual experience
is the perception, ' ' " enriched by ' ' mnemic phenomena. ' ' Defining
then "sensation as the non-mnemic elements in a perception," we
see that ' ' the core of pure sensation is only to be extracted by care-
ful investigation," 15 and that "we have to pare away all that is
due to habit or expectation or interpretation." ie Still he sticks to it
that though "in any other science than psychology the datum is
primarily a perception, in which only the sensational core is ulti-
mately and theoretically a datum" and "an ideal observer" has to
be "postulated" to "isolate the sensation and treat this alone as
datum," 17 yet "there certainly is a sensational core." 18
I disagree on principle. Mr. Russell has described sensation as
a pure fiction, though he has made its formation scientifically intel-
ligible. The pure sensation is clearly not a fact of immediate ex-
perience, and could not conceivably become such a fact. For if we
conceived it as occurring once, we should at once have to add that it
could never occur again. On its recurrence it would at once be
colored by the results of the first experience, even though these were
not actually remembered. It is, therefore, a pure creation of psy-
chological theory.
And the theory which generates it is optional and unnecessary.
"We need not even accept it as a scientifically constructed "datum."
If we seriously attempt description of actual experience and explore
the alternative possibilities of scientific construction, we can per-
fectly well rest content with "perceptions" as ultimate facts which
function as "elements" only in "biographies." That will mean
merely the adoption of an activist method in psychology, and a tardy
recognition of the personality which it was usual to abstract from.
But the reason for this abstraction was merely that the other sciences
all appeared to make it, and that the psychologists were anxious to
fall into line. But recent developments have revolutionized the situ-
ation. "Biographies" are no longer restricted to psychology, and
"perspectives" to art; science finds it possible, and even necessary,
to recognize them. The chemist has for some purposes to take into
account the history of the stuff he handles, to consider whether it
Anal., p. 132.
"It., p. 139.
/&., p. 140.
n>., p. 299.
"/&., p. 140.
MR. RUSSELL'S PSYCHOLOGY 291
is thorium-lead or uranium-lead and in what proportions, and to
allow for the "mnemic phenomena" it displays. The physicist must
locate the events, and date the localities, of his observations, and may
presently find, not merely that "man is the measure" of everything,
but that no thing can be measured except in its own space and at its
own time, and ultimately, perhaps, by its own leave. 18 That is the
meaning of Relativity.
Consequently it has become timely to suggest that perceptions are
the real experiences, and are always involved in a biography, which
it is well to ascertain; also that psychology need not substitute any
fictitious "data" for these facts. After the deposition of "sensa-
tions" from their preeminence, it would no longer seem obligatory
to inflate the status of "images," and to attribute to them an im-
portance which they do not empirically appear to possess. 20
Thus the activist interpretation in psychology may justly appeal
from the sordid past of the sciences to their dazzling prospects. It
should not, however, neglect to fortify itself against some of the more
obvious misconceptions. It should not, e.g., plead guilty to the charge
of recalling from the limbo of discarded errors the simple soul-sub-
stance of rationalistic metaphysics. For this may justly be con-
demned on the ground that it involved a passivist conception of
substance, modelled upon observation of the external world, and
utterly alien to the self-maintaining energy of psychic life. It made
the soul into a thing, not into a person. Divorcing its substance
from its "accidents," it could account for none of its empirical
manifestations, for none of the plurality and variety in its function-
ing. The a priori sort of unity it postulated was utterly useless
and incompatible with the "dissociations" which, empirically speak-
ing, are more or less normal in the souls we actually know.
The activist theory, on the other hand, though it repudiates
atomizing artifices, can make room for any sort and amount of
plurality that do not destroy all unity, and are in fact required. It-
rejects only a pluralism so complete that psychic continuity becomes
unthinkable. It demands only that an adequate psychology should
face the fact that some at least of our psychic contents coagulate
into or inhabit a "self" that says "I" to them and calls them
"mine." Also that, to all appearance, they really do belong to it.
This last requirement also is essential, and is often overlooked.
Transcendentalism, for example, fails to solve the problem of the
self, because its Ego is only a universal function that does not really
i Mr. Eussell, quite rightly, points out that not only living things but all
have biographies (p. 129).
20 As I have shown, against Mr. Euasell, in Mind, No. 116, pp. 693-4.
292 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
cohere with the psychic contents it " apperceives. " Instead of being
any one in particular the "I" it deduces might just as well be the
Devil or the Absolute.
In conclusion let me say that the questions I have raised all, I
believe, affect the fundamentals of Mr. Russell's system; for in a
consistent philosophy these are the parts which most demand atten-
tion, and are most worth discussion.
F. C. S. SCHILLER.
CORPUS CHBISTI COLLEGE, OXTORD.
"IMPLICATION AND LINEAR INFERENCE"
MIGHT I say a word on one judgment and its corollary in the
courteous and appreciative review of my book in this JOURNAL
by H. T. Costello?
The point is that he describes my illustration of self-evidence
by the proposition that two straight lines can not enclose a space, as
"unfortunate." The reason is, I gather, that experts do not now
admit this proposition to be self-evident. And what I want to main-
tain is that thus it becomes a far more fortunate illustration of my
argument than I supposed it to be.
Obviously it is involved in my notion of coherence that theoreti-
cally and in principle self-evidence is a matter of degree. There are
plenty of propositions no one would trouble to interfere with, but,
technically, there is none which has in itself absolute self-evidence.
I asserted this position in my Logic and applied it to the "Law
of Causation," and also showed that the interpretation of the
"Laws of Thought" was "relative and ambiguous." Therefore,
having later made a concession for the sake of argument, and under-
taken to show as a limiting case of my theory a proposition which I
believed nearly every one would feel as self-evident, I am fortunate,
and not unfortunate, when my reviewer batters down for me the
wall I was trying to breach and tells me that the proposition, though
constantly taken for self-evident, is not self-evident at all. That is
to say, in the light of a wider or more precisely analyzed whole of
experience than mine, its supposed necessity does not stand exam-
ination. This is quite natural, and of course is a strong support to
my view, which was originally formulated owing in part to some
hints of Lotze in the same direction which I thought were probably
out of date today, and so did not produce in the discussion in my book.
I proceed to the corollary. The reviewer's judgment that the
illustration is unfortunate establishes to my mind the point that he
"IMPLICATION AND LINEAR INFERENCE" 293
does not follow me in apprehending the test of coherence as involv-
ing a genuinely complete empiricism and only rejecting one that is
arbitrary and partial. He does not see how (as, e.g., Husserl points
out) self -evidence is relative to the relevant whole of experience.
Thus I read in the review (p. 416) : ''Looking upon the process as
an internal dialectic of coherence within thought, they slur over the
empirical checks which actually knock a thought-process into shape
by unexpected blows from without itself." So (p. 417) : "Only
empiricism can select the true one. ' '
Mr. Russell is in the same mythical tradition (Analysis of Mind,
p. 268, treating expressly of the coherence method) . ' ' The attempt to
deduce the world iby pure thought is attractive. But nowadays
most men admit that beliefs must be tested by observation, and not
merely by the fact that they harmonize with other beliefs. A con-
sistent fairy-tale," etc.
And Mr. Arnauld Reid in the Philosophical Review, January,
1922, treats perception as a test other than and external to "coher-
ence."
They must all, surely, be speaking of something much less simple
on one side, and much less fundamental on the other, than what I am
talking about. As early as in the concluding chapters of Knowledge
and Reality (1885) I pointed out in detailed analysis the obvious
fact that every precise perception and every scientific observation
is in itself a crucial experiment demonstrating that inference is by
coherence. There is, therefore, no alternative method. The human
mind in the pursuit of truth works in no other Way. The simplest
and most classical analysis of the facts, apart from the many well-
known passages of Mr. Bradley and others, is, I should say, in Nettle-
ship 's Logic Lectures (Remains, Vol. I, pp. 181 ff.).
We always test a sense-perception as Macbeth tested his vision of
the dagger, by trying if it brings with it something else we expect
it to bring. The mind is potentially a system, and puts its ques-
tions, or demands its answers, in systematic form.
This characteristic procedure has nothing directly to do with any
further question about the ultimate incompleteness of truth. It
has nothing whatever to do with ideas of an internal dialectic, of
coherence within thought, or with deductions by pure thought, or
with consistent fairy-tales, or with a contrast between thought and
empirical checks or perception or observation. Does no realist to-
day think it worth while to consider what goes on in any careful
perception or observation or on what its precision and truth value
depend ? It is really as if the hoary jest of our childhood about the
German who evolved the camel out of his moral consciousness were
294 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
hanging about the minds of realists, and prevented them from attend-
ing to what students of actual working logic are talking about. I
am much inclined to think that some obsolete superstition of the
kind is actually at work.
BERNARD BOSANQUET.
OXSHOTT, ENGLAND.
THE VERIFICATION OF STANDARDS OF VALUE
IT is a familiar contention of pragmatism that the truth as well
as the value of ideas is to be judged by their consequences in
action. This theory has been applied by Professor Dewey to the
subject of practical judgments and moral standards. "The truth of
practical judgments," he writes, " ... is constituted by the issue.
The determination of end-means (constituting the terms and rela-
tions of the practical proposition) is hypothetical until the course
of action indicated has been tried. The event or issue of such action
is the truth or falsity of the judgment." 1
In conduct "principles, criteria, laws are intellectual instruments
for analyzing individual or unique situations. ' ' 2
Generalized and classified goods are tools of insight, and in ethics
"validation, demonstration, become experimental, a matter of con-
sequences. ' ' *
Up to the present the advocates of this theory have been mainly
occupied with defending its central thesis against the formalism of
older ethical methods. They have accordingly made little if any
attempt to apply it in testing specific current ideals and standards
of value. They have rather been disposed to avoid such an attempt,
on the ground that it would involve the very failing of ethics which
they attack, a tendency to excessive and arbitrary generalization.
Art and practical conduct, therefore, rather than science, have
seemed to them the proper fields for developing and testing stand-
ards. 4
Such procedure, however, is subject to the obvious limitations,
recognized by pragmatists, of all common sense thinking in com-
parison with scientific. 5
The latter must no doubt abandon its claim to provide absolute
i Essays in Experimental Logic, p. 346.
Reconstruction in Philosophy, p. 162.
*n>id., pp. 169, 174.
*Cf. John Dewey, The Influence of Darwin on Philosophy, p. 71; Essays
in Experimental Logic, pp. 374-381.
Dewey, How We Think, ch. XI.
THE VERIFICATION OF STANDARDS OF VALUE 295
rules for conduct. Yet, granting this, the possibility remains that
some of the conceptions for which it has claimed too much author-
ity may contain as hypotheses a measure of truth and value under
certain conditions; that the power and scope of experimental sci-
ence, furthermore, may be utilized in developing and testing such
hypotheses, on a basis of past experience and subject to the ultimate
verdict of future events. Are there ways in which science can be
so used without unwarranted generalizing?
It has been noted that pragmatic verification and valuation con-
sist at least partially in discovering and comparing consequences.
Any prediction of future results must be made largely on a basis of
past experience or history. To this extent, then, the verification and
valuation of standards are studies in the history of ideas, and are
subject to no more dangers than attend all such historical narrative.
In observing the past and present operation of specific standards,
ethical research has thus a clear field before it.
Disagreement on the general nature, basis and authority of moral
ideas is no obstacle to such research. It is clear, at least, that many
ideas such as freedom, justice, happiness, growth and control are
current in human thinking, and are often described as ends, ideals
and standards, though conceived and used in different ways. Some
denote abstract qualities in a catalogue of virtues, others the con-
crete objects of desire or contemplation; some are products of un-
reflective instinct and custom, others of moral theory; some are
treated as absolute rules, others as objects of worship or hypotheses
in experiment; some are individual, trivial and ephemeral, others
racial, enduring, wide in application and in influence. But what-
ever their form and function, if they operate in human thought
and conduct at all, science may attempt to describe their operation.
Such an attempt would imply for the procedure of ethical in-
quiry the examination of specific concepts, especially those of major
scope and influence, rather than a study of value and value-stand-
ards in general; the treatment of these concepts as factors in conduct
rather than as static theories, with emphasis rather on their applica-
tion than on their formulation and justification ; the observation of
actual problems and decisions, with analysis of the part which stand-
ards have played therein. "What functions," the observer would
inquire, "has this concept been intended to fulfil, and why? How
has it carried out these functions, and what other consequences have
followed? " The appropriate sources for such study are less in
systems of ethics than in history, literature and applied science, where
296 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
standards are described, developed and followed in contact with
events.
The difficulties in such an inquiry are obvious. To trace the
history of any scientific concept is to deal, especially if the concept
is old and much used, with a rather nebulous subject-matter. It
begins, as a rule, at no assignable date, it has no continuous growth,
as from seed to flowering, it has at no stage a clearly outlined iden-
tity, and it appears to the observer less as a unified intellectual in-
strument than as a place of entrance to a world of tangled theories.
One contemplating such a history may readily feel the illusion of
watching a shifting mist of words, without structure or sequence, and
forget that each period may have been a serious attempt at describ-
ing stable facts or formulating persistent desires. Each participant
in the history has probably felt the impulse, more or less conscious,
to sharpen the outlines of his terms by cutting off unwanted accre-
tions of meaning, then by adding his own commentary to set up a
more lasting and unequivocal system of relations between names,
ideas and reality. But the new definitions often prove scarcely
less transitory than the theories of fact. Ideas are shifted from
name to name, and rival theories marshal them in conflicting orders,
until particular concepts lose all recognizable substance.
A single concept, as a recurrent theme in intellectual history, is
accordingly no easy object to follow. At any given time it has
probably some recognized name, such as "democracy," and the
career of this name may .be followed from its etymological origin or
its equivalents in earlier tongues, through successive gains and losses
of connotation, through various roles in theory and up to its status
in modern discourse. But this inquiry, though of use for some
purposes, would fall short of the information required as data for
verification a story of the operation of the concept. For a stand-
ard, like any other idea, is more than a name, symbol or concrete
embodiment. It is a complex of meanings, which the symbol binds
together and points out, and the effect of such a symbol upon thought
may include the influence of all these current meanings. Since
they, rather than the name, constitute the standard, a history of the
standard 's operation must include their history, whether or not they
have always borne the present name. A concept may be newly put
together, but if it consists of older ideas, its history is a continuation
of theirs. To attempt a disentangling of such threads, and an ac-
count of their intermingling with the rest of experience other ideas,
desires, emotions, the forces of environment may well be a slow and
dubious task.
Yet these difficulties are not altogether insuperable. The study
of the history and influence of ideas, far from being considered im-
THE VERIFICATION OF STANDARDS OF VALUE 297
possible, forms a steadily increasing part of all historical writing.
Though, confused at times, ideas can achieve a degree of integrity,
especially when as social ideals or scientific concepts they are per-
sistently redefined. Some have been, furthermore, evolved through
a fairly continuous development, or constructed out of elements
whose antecedents are likewise recognizable. To describe the main
outlines of the history of such ideas may prove to be in some measure
possible.
In addition to study of past experience, the choice of hypotheses
in conduct involves an interest in the future: not alone "how has
this standard acted? " but "how may it be expected to act in other
situations? " To whatever extent situations are unique, novel and
surprising, future effects can not be clearly foreseen. But so far
as past experience can be utilized, similarities detected and combina-
tions of events foreseen, decision can be, and is in practise assisted
by imagination the construction of hypothetical situations and re-
sponses in advance of action. Can ethics thus estimate the probable
consequences of standards under conditions not to be found in
past experience ?
Some attempt at such hypothetical reasoning is made in almost
every scientific argument that attacks or defends a proposed policy,
as in theories of government or economics. Its uncertainty in pre-
diction is obvious, and it runs the constant risk, through the need
of imagining conditions in a more simple and general form than
they occur, of overlooking important contingencies. Yet it is a
necessary part of any reflection that aims not at mere understanding
of the past, but at appraisal and adoption of purposes. Such con-
sideration by ethics of the major policies with which it deals is thus a
logical extension of the procedure necessary in all applied science.
If ethics is to achieve conclusions that are applicable in practise,
it must attempt to forecast the probable consequences of following
certain standards, in relation to certain typical conditions. In what
kinds of situation, in other words, might a given standard be applied 1
What would be its probable effect, if certain other factors were
present? What emotional, instinctive or habitual responses would
it tend to stimulate ? What rational inferences would it imply, and
what alternatives in action would it tend to select and favor ? What
later consequences might then be expected ?
The decisive step in verification still remains to be taken, even
after past and probable future consequences are known. Conse-
quences themselves may be subject to varying appraisal. Beyond
certain limits, it can not be expected that this final step should be
made. The pragmatic notion of truth implies abandonment of the
298 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
attempt at absolute verdicts, whether on a basis of consequences or
not. Such verdicts would themselves require standards, and these
latter also would be subject to dispute. No appraisal may be ex-
pected to result from the above research, then, except of a tentative
and approximate nature, expressed in terms of comparison, and with
reference to specific conditions.
A knowledge of the consequences of a standard does, however, pro-
vide data for appraising it by whatever other standards are accepted.
In speaking of the truth of ideas, for example, Professor Dewey
proposes as a test "that satisfaction which arises when the idea as
working hypothesis or tentative method is applied to prior existences
in such a way as to fulfil what it intends." William James's "real
doctrine is that a belief is true when it satisfies both personal needs
and the requirements of objective things. Speaking of pragmatism,
he says, 'Her only test of probable truth is what works best in the
way of leading us, what fits every part of life best and combines wtih
the collectivity of experience's demands, nothing being omitted.' " T
"Truth as utility means service in making just that contribution to
reorganization in experience that the idea or theory claims to be
able to make." 8
According to this test, then, a comparison between the intended
and the accomplished or probable consequences would be tentative
verification. More specifically, the standard in question may be
found to rest upon self-contradictory arguments, or on an unverified
belief regarding the effects of certain actions. It may be found to
produce failure, discord and pain. Such conclusions may fall short,
philosophically, of absolute verdicts on truth and value, but in in-
telligent conduct they have all the cogency of such verdicts, and
more concrete meaning.
To know and compare the working of current standards, in other
words, is to know their interrelation ; to know which cooperate and
confirm each other, which deny and conflict ; to find areas of agree-
ment and areas of dispute or ignorance. In practise this is equiva-
lent to a recognition of certain main lines of conduct which are,
though not certainly good, less questioned than others, and which
illuminate by contrast the fields where discovery and innovation
are more needed.
The choice of hypotheses in conduct is of course not confined
to selection between ideals already formulated, or even to continuous
Essays in Experimental Logic, p. 320.
Ibid., p. 324, quoting James 'a Pragmatism, p. 80; cf. also The Influence
of Darwin on Philotophy, pp. 95, 150.
.Reconstruction in Philosophy, p. 157.
and
THE VERIFICATION OF STANDARDS OF VALUE 299
development of them. Future experience may suggest conceptions
which require to be expressed in entirely new terms, and to be re-
garded as distinct from the old. The science of ethics can doubtless
aid in the process of discovering and interpreting the data for such
hypotheses. But several considerations warrant present emphasis on
the study of older concepts. They contain an accumulation of long
experience with the chief activities of life, whose testimony has not
yet been agreed upon. Future experience can hardly be quite dis-
continuous with the past, or produce ideals unaffected by it. The
formulation of new standards can not confidently be attempted with-
out some decision upon the validity of the old, and the problem of
testing them when formed is not unlike that of judging older and
more familiar subject-matter. Although the present situation in
ethics, however, may suggest the need of attention to historic ideals,
new and proposed conceptions as well may be examined with a view
to discovering their actual and possible consequences in relation to
other factors in experience.
Pragmatism and the empirical theories which preceded it have
amply demonstrated the futility of rigid and premature moral
generalizations. But a consistent ethical pluralism will not be con-
tent with wholesale rejection or neglect of all general standards. It
will examine them separately and in comparison as possible instru-
ments in conduct, to discover if some are perhaps more true in
assertion and more useful in function than others. If the funded
experience of the past concerning good and bad is to be made avail-
able for use in present action, the work of organizing it must be
carried on by the sciences, such as ethics, which concern themselves
with problems of value. And if these sciences are to accomplish
more than destructive criticism and inconclusive description of
social and psychological processes, they must undertake the syste-
matic development and appraisal of hypothetical standards of value.
The following questions are possible specific modes of inquiry
into the operation of a standard:
What are its general meanings as at present accepted, its defini-
tions, descriptions, constituent ideas, implied assertions? Are they
at present widely different, so as to make the standard ambiguous,
and act in different ways ?
What are their histories? How have they come together to form
a more or less coherent conception? What associations have they
had with other theories, problems, events and conditions ?
For what functions has the standard (or its several elements,
300 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
if they have operated independently) been used or intended? Ag
descriptive law or concept? As object of desire, admiration, con-
templation, idealization, reverence, worship? As aim or policy?
Immediate, ulterior, ultimate, summwm bonumf As standard, crite-
rion, guide in decision and valuation? Subordinate to others, or
supreme? Absolute or hypothetical? What beliefs and aims are
implied by so using the concept?
By whom has it been used ? What sorts of people have rejected
or abandoned it? When has this acceptance or rejection occurred?
Under what circumstances? In what sorts of problem?
What factors have led to this acceptance or rejection? What
instincts, habits, customs, preferences? Are these usual or excep-
tional? What environmental conditions have been influential?
What beliefs, premises, evidence, inferences, have led to acceptance
or rejection, especially in regard to the nature of the universe, of
man and his place in it, and in regard to the probable consequences
of certain ways of acting? Can these be judged as true or false?
What immediate consequences tend to follow its use? As actu-
ally applied? If consistently and thoroughly applied? If there is
a difference what has led to it? What responses in emotion or
action does it stimulate? What judgments and inferences does it
entail ? What effect has it in selecting between alternatives, in reach-
ing decisions, choices, solutions? Does it indicate the selection of
certain types of alternatives rather than others? Entirely, or on
a basis of comparative amounts or degrees? What ones, and by
what specifications? Does it select in use as it is expected to; i.e.,
does it fulfil its intended function? Are its meanings and sugges-
tions different in practise from its formal definitions? What other
factors, organic, intellectual, environmental, cooperate to produce
these results?
Are the situations in which it can be applied frequent, important,
crucial, confined to particular times and places or lasting and wide-
spread ? For what types of alternative does it indicate no selection ?
What changes have taken place in its mode of functioning?
With what other standards does it interact, theoretically or prac-
tically? With what ones would it interact if consistently applied
whenever possible? Does it tend to conflict with these? To what
extent ? With any margin of agreement ? What has produced this
conflict? Does the standard corroborate, agree with others? To
what extent? As means, end, or in coordinate status? In what
types of problem does it interact with others, and with what results?
What are its relations to scientific knowledge other than value-
standards?
BOOK REVIEWS 301
What later consequences, organic, emotional, intellectual, individ-
ual, social, tend to follow its use? Which are constant and which
confined to particular times and places ? What other factors combine
to produce them? Which are expected by the persons who use
the standards, and which are unexpected ? What would follow if the
standard were more consistently carried out? To what extent do
these results (actual and possible) agree with, conflict with or re-
direct the more constant impulses, desires and capacities of human,
nature ?
In what ways may the standard and its consequences be modified ?
THOMAS MUNRO.
COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY.
BOOK REVIEWS
Manhood of Humanity; The Science and Art of Human Engineer-
ing. ALFRED KORZYBSKI. New York: E. P. Button & Com-
pany. 1921. Pp. xiii-f-264.
In the preface the author announces that (p. ix) "This book
is primarily a study of Man and ultimately embraces all the great
qualities and problems of Man."
Count Alfred Korzybski temperamentally seems to be a phi-
losopher and poet who was trained to be a mathematician, engineer
and soldier. His natural inclinations have led him to be intensely
interested in humanity. In trying to explain human behavior he
has used mathematical and engineering terms and figures of speech.
The sub-title of this volume "The Science and Art of Human
Engineering" means the directing of the energies and capacities
of human beings to the advancement of human weal.
Man has brought much suffering upon himself because he has
been ignorant concerning himself, so in order to get a better under-
standing of humanity the author has proposed a mathematical in-
vestigation of the problem. He claims that mathematics must be-
come the basis of the social sciences because of its characteristic
precision, sharpness and completeness of definitions. The natural
sciences have gone on much faster than the "so-called social sci-
ences" because they have used mathematical methods. Humanity
is said to be in its infancy because of so much purposeless sacrifice
and wasted energy.
A very novel explanation of the relation of mankind to other
organic life is offered. Plants as living organisms appropriate the
basic energies of the sun, soil and air. They constitute the lowest
order of life. This life order or capacity is represented by the
302 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
first dimension or by dimension I. This peculiar quality is called
"basic-energy-binding" or 4 ' chemistry -binding. "
Animals possess the autonomous power to move about in space.
This power places them in a higher order. They have "chemistry-
binding" power but their peculiar power lies in conquering space.
Animals have, therefore, a two-dimensional life or are living in life
dimension II characterized as "space-binding."
Man, like the animals, has chemistry- and space-" binding"
power, but in addition to this he has the power to profit by experi-
ence the experience of past generations. Every succeeding gen-
eration builds upon the accumulated knowledge of the past, while
the animal begins its life history at the same point as preceding
generations. This quality or power Korzybski has called "time-
building." In life it represents dimension III. Such then is the
proposed conception of man one whose glory consists in his pecu-
liar capacity for binding time. The power to "bind time" is a
perfectly natural power and the power to act in a time-binding
capacity becomes the measure of human progress. Time-binding
is the energy that civilizes, it produces wealth, it is the great crea-
tive power. Humans have the power to continue where the past
generation stopped, profiting by all previous generations. The
beaver builds his dams the same without gaining anything from past
generations. The progress of man then should become faster from
generation to generation. The natural law of this increment can
be shown to follow the law of logarithmic increase (pp. 90-92).
Thus, if P is the progress made in a given generation, and if R is
the ratio, then the progress made in the second generation is PR,
and that of the third is PR 2 and that made in a single Tth genera-
tion will be PR T ~ l . The expression PR 7 "- 1 is called an exponential
function of time. The immortal offspring of the ' ' marriage of Time
and human Toil" increase in a marvelous manner, especially when
we consider the vast number of generations that have already con-
tributed or should have contributed to our welfare.
Here we see the need of a tecbnologized social science. Human
progress will go on at a rate measured by a rapidly increasing ge-
ometric progression if we acquire sense enough to let it do so.
Wealth, according to this teacher, consists of the fruit of man's
time-binding capacity "the living work of the dead."
The closing chapters of the book emphasize the importance of
the time-binding activities with a view toward the happiness of all
humanity. He finally proposes a Department of Coordination or
Cooperation which is to be the nucleus of a civilization developed
along mathematical-engineering lines. This development would
bring about the greatest true liberty and happiness.
BOOK REVIEWS 303
Three appendices are included in the volume with the following
titles: (1) Mathematics and Time-Binding, (2) Biology and Time-
Binding, (3) Engineering and Time-Binding.
It is evident that the whole discussion rests on the so-called
"time-binding" capacity or power of the human being. Evidently
what is meant by time-binding is the capacity to profit by experi-
ence as the result of associative memory or what has come to be
known as intelligence. Although the author probably would not
approve of this statement, yet it is evident that mathematical fig-
ures of speech have been employed to describe facts that have been
considered in every important study of human behavior.
Before the ratio of progress can be worked out, or before a
formula for normal human development can be written, it will be
necessary to have standards of measurement to see if the relations
are as they have been assumed. Psychology (classified on page 25
with philosophy, law and ethics as "private theories" or "verbal-
isms") as the science of human behavior has already done much in
measuring intelligence with its intelligence-quotient and other
psychometric methods. The study of human behavior by those
who have been especially trained has shown that an a priori assump-
tion of mathematical formulae is a false procedure.
A few, but their tribe decreaseth, of the social investigators
still look upon man as supernatural, but most of those in good
standing study humanity from an empirical point of view and
organize their data quantitatively wherever standards of measure-
ment are available.
The enthusiasm of the author has led him to suggest that mathe-
matics per se can solve the problem of humanity. What is needed
is the help or service of mathematics in solving problems that are
already clearly defined in the minds of real social scientists.
The Manhood of Humanity contributes very little to the social
sciences, except some interesting mathematical and engineering
analogies. The plea for exact and scientific methods in the study
of humanity and the warning against mystical or prejudicial at-
titudes is to be commended.
Humanity is still before us, with us and in us, with its re-
sponses to complex and remote stimuli, and with its complicated,
delayed responses. Humanity still challenges first the biologist,
then the psychologist, and finally the sociologist for an explana-
tion. The Science of Humanity will be the synthesis of all sciences
and not the outgrowth of mathematics merely.
J. V. BREITWTESER.
UNIVERSITY OP CALIFORNIA.
304 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
Die Deutsch Philosophic der Oegenwart in Selbstdarstellungen,
RAYMUND SCHMIDT, editor. Leipzig: Felix Meiner, 1921. Vol-
umes 1 and 2, Pp. 228; 203.
Conceive of a history of European philosophy in which each of
the authors had presented his own views in final and well considered
form. It would be a fascinating book to read. Less enviable, per-
haps, would be the task of the editor. If he had a conscientious
desire to make his volume uniform in any sense, he might find dif-
ficulty. Not only would there be a tendency on the part of his
contributors to expatiate unduly, but a sort of waywardness might
be expected. One would not be surprised to find Plato setting
down his thought in a myth. Augustine might wish to publish an
exhortation and Thomas a Kempis a pious prayer. I am inclined
to think there would be slighter difficulty with the German con-
tributors; for after all, to be a philosopher in Germany is to have
a profession and to recognize professional rules and etiquette.
So we might expect to find in this history of contemporary
German philosophy, to which each of the writers has contributed
his own statement of his views and of their psychogenesis, a certain
"cut and driedness." Such an expectation is, however, by no means
justified by the contents of the volume. There is, to be sure, a
noticeable dominance of the idol of the system over certain of the
contributors. One "decided to become a philosopher." Another,
when he was called to an academic position, discovered that he was
supposed by the traditions of the post to lecture on certain subjects
and forthwith began to do so. And frequently one is aware that
the progress of a man 's thought is too greatly determined by a sense
of obligation to fill the picture previously outlined, or to expand
his theories so as to cover every portion of the philosophic field.
It is altogether probable that these faults, if faults they be,
are due to the fact that the representatives of philosophy whose
views are here given are principally in the university world and of
the philosophical department. One is glad to note that the editor,
Dr. Raymund Schmidt, promises that future volumes will also con-
tain a presentation of authors whose contributions lie in the field of
the philosophy of law, of education and other departments. Yet
even in this present group there are men who have done important
work outside the strict limits of their departmental duties.
Moreover, one is struck by the free and courageous criticism
which a man of the stamp of Karl Joel directs at the traditions
of university teaching, when he designates lectures as "the passive
subjection of a crowd of students to a specialized mass of material
which they do not digest. ' ' The editor is justified in his promise that
BOOK REVIEWS
the collection will consist of striking contrasts. The men whose
contributions constitute the first volume are Paul Barth, Erich
Becher, Hans Driesch, Karl Joel, A. Meinong, Paul Natorp, Johannes
Rehmke and Johannes Volkelt ; those appearing in the second being
Erich Adickes, Clemens Baeumker, Jonas Cohn, Hans Cornelius,
Karl Groos, Alois Hofler, Ernst Troeltsch, and Hans Vaihinger.
There is no need to make invidious comparisons; they are a distin-
guished group. The absence of such names as Rudolph Eucken,
Aloys Riehl, and Ernst Mach may cause surprise, particularly since
no reason is given for their omission.
In so far as any general trend is noticeable throughout the
work, I think it would be fair to interpret it as a return to the older
tradition of German idealism. Fortunately, there can be no sus-
picion that this is due to the editor's selection, for Dr. Schmidt has
indeed adhered scrupulously to his above-mentioned intention of
making the collection a genuine symposium. If I am justified in
claiming to discover the renaissance of idealism, it is surely advisable
to spell it with a small "i." Yet the emphasis is unmistakable, and
is manifest in the motive which, for instance, has led Vaihinger, and
his collaborators, Groos and Cornelius, to reinterpret the Philosophic
des als Ob as a positivistic idealism in which the Als-01) world be-
comes the world of values more especially of a religious order. This
interest, so clearly reminiscent of ante-Hegelian thought, seems to
account in large part for the admirably modest recognition of the
essentially personal aspects of problems of evaluation. Undoubtedly
it also accounts for the importance given to the biographic and psy-
chogenetic conception of philosophy, as voiced by Fichte: Was fiir
eine Philosophic man wdhle, hdngt davon ab, was filr em Mensch
man sei. It is significant that this sentence is quoted several times in
these volumes.
That each of the contributors is aware of a certain embarrassment
in speaking of himself is evident. "De nobis ipsis sttemus," Paul
Natorp begins and others echo the sentiment. They are over-
anxious, in numerous instances, to avoid self-advertisement. "Ameri-
canism" (sic), is discounted. The writers recognize that they can
not hope properly to estimate their own contributions to philosophic
literature. Meinong, whose contribution is unfortunately a final
summary of his views, writes thus of the difficulty of the undertak-
ing "When one's work is drawing to an end, the question may
naturally confront one as to what one has accomplished in this
brief day of life. But if he as genuinely desires to answer the
question, the feeling will arise that he can only conscientiously give
account of that which he has sought to do, not of that which he has
achieved."
306 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
Each article is preceded by a photograph of the author, excellent
in craftsmanship and in several instances striking portraits. The
book is attractively made, though the economy of cloth is evident.
One wonders who in Germany can afford to pay sixty marks for a
volume, though at the present rate of exchange, it is considerably
less expensive than a similar book would be in this country.
JAMES GUTMANN.
COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY.
JOUKNALS AND NEW BOOKS
REVUE PHILOSOPHIQUE. Sept.-Oct., 1921. De quelques
especes d'egalites et de quelques-uns de leurs wantages ou incon-
venients (pp. 146-172) : ADRIEN NAVILLE.-A duality of conceptions
of equality must be distinguished: equality of contribution in ex-
change, and equality of individual returns. Equality is always a
psychical fact, and sociologically and morally it is not the case that
where there is equality of contribution in exchange there is, or can be,
equality of return. Justice is equality ; but there are many varieties
of equality, and these are not always reconcilable. La perception de
la synthese psyctvique (Suite: pp. 173-191) : F. PAULHAN.-WO
' ' encounter everywhere in conscious life the perception of synthesis.
It constitutes the essential element in the control of the mind and in
the control of its elements. . . . The perception of a harmony . . .
or a discordance is continually in us, and this is the knowledge . . .
and appreciation by the mind and its elements of these elements
themselves and the elements of these elements." Elements objectifs
du monde materiel (Suite: pp. 192-232) : P. DuPONT.-The point
of departure for science after stripping away every human element
consists of relations of difference, similarity and dissimilarity, and
the like. The intellectual character of these relations is no ground
for denying objectivity. No photograph of the objective of science
can be given, and if it be called just X, it can be shown that this X
"is a collection of a multitude of x's discriminable by us," and the
relations between them can be firmly established. The objective of
science can not then be equated with nothingness. La notion des
centres coordinateurs cere~braux et le mecanisme du langage (suite:
pp. 233-280) : H. PIERON.-' ' The progress of our localizations is in-
contestable ; from the moment that we no longer seek to localize the
entities, imaginary faculties, and judgments of value . . . and all
the idola of traditional psychology and expect to find . . . only the
histo-morphological correspondents of psycho-physiological processes
JOURNALS AND NEW BOOKS 307
analyzed in an objective spirit, we encounter, despite evident difficul-
ties, no insurmountable obstacle in progress towards a functional
chart of the brain." Revue Critique. Philosophies de L'Orient:
P. MASSON-OURSEL,. Analyses et Comptes rendus. P. E. B. Jour-
dain, The Philosophy of Mr. B*tr*nd R*ss*ll: A. LALANDE. J.
Segond, Intuition et Amitie: E. LEROUX. Ossip-Lourie, La Grapho-
manie: DR. JEAN PHILIPPE. Hector Denis, Discours philosophiques:
C. BOUGLE. A. Gemelli, Religione e scienza; F. Olgiati, Carlo Marx;
A. Gemelli, Le dottrine moderne djslla delinquenza: E. GILSON. Dr.
Ed. Claparede, L'ecole sur mesure: E. CRAMAUSSEL.. Paul Lapie,
Pedagogic frangaise: E. CRAMAUSSEL. Necrologie: Francois Picavet
(1851-1921}.
Prescott, Frederick Clarke. The Poetic Mind. New York: The
Macmillan Co., 1922. Pp. xx + 308. $2.00.
Sinclair, May. The New Idealism. New York : The Macmillan Com-
pany, 1922. Pp. 333. $3.00.
AN OPEN LETTER TO THE ANTI-BEHAVIORISTS
Dear Fellow Workers:
I have followed your papers during the last ten years with keen
interest and much profit and now at the end of the decade I feel im-
pelled to put a question to you. At first blush the interrogation may
seem personal and yet I assure you that it is motivated only by the
most dispassionate search for truth on this question which is causing
you so much unrest. It may well be that a little self-analysis, a
little effective introspection directed at a certain aspect of the social
situation now constituted by the ' ' Behavioristic Controversy" may
throw just that light upon the problem which will enable some of
us to cast our lot definitely with one party or the other.
I want to ask you this: "Who are the behaviorists ? Have you
ever brought together a bibliography of this topic for the past
decade? If you have not, the undertaking will be most enlightening.
I can find but two men who have presented and defended behavior-
ism, Drs. John B. Watson and A. P. Weiss. Their labors are summed
up in two books and some dozen papers. I can not admit, as you
may see, that, there is any other behaviorism than that advocated by
Dr. Watson. Behaviorism has come to mean just one thing and
that is a psychology which takes as its subject matter, not con-
sciousness, but stimulus and response relationships. Some of you, I
308 JOURNALS AND NEW BOOKS
know, have advocated new systems of behaviorism, but you do not
succeed. No one in writing of this point of view is attacking your
system, and the more papers you write the more firmly do you fix
the true historical significance of the term. Your "truly psychologi-
cal behaviorism," your "new formula," your "conscious behavior"
and the other substitutes which you hasten to bring forth, only
serve to direct attention to the illegitimate nature of your offspring.
But if we find only two behaviorists in the literature, how many and
what anti-behavioriste can be found! For fear of offending some
of you by omission, I shall not urge the following list as complete.
It is, however, fairly so and certainly is quite representative. May
I, then, present the following antis : James R. Angell, E. B. Titchener,
R. M. Yerkes, B. Bode, M. W. Calkins, Win. McDougall, A. A.
Robach, D. S. Miller, H. R. Marshall, H. R. Crosland, B. C. Tolman,
A. 0. Lovejoy, J. R. Kantor, Mrs. DeLaguna, M. F. Washburn, E. B.
Holt, George Mead, Bertrand Russell, T. H. Pear, F. C. Bartlett,
E. M. Smith, G. H. Thompson, A. Robinson, and others. I do not
include either the writers of text-books or scientists other than psy-
chologists; but a complete roster of printed opponents would range
from zoologists to philosophers and from humble members to presi-
dents of the American Psychological Association. Almost each new
periodical number affords a "coming-out party" for a new member
of your group. And there is no apparent increase among your op-
ponents.
My dear friends, why do you write so mucht I raise the issue
in all seriousness. If here, there, and yonder, psychologists were
joining Watson's banner, you might be actuated by the menace of
opposing numbers. But if behaviorism is spreading, the literature
fails to reveal it, although the cloak rooms and corridors may bear
more eloquent witness. I will not be so vulgar as even to suggest
that your articles are merely for the sake of intellectual exercise and
the display of critical skill. No, it is the power and incisiveness of
the theory which you fear, a theory which without increasing de-
fenders causes you to see an enemy in every one not an anointed
introspectionist and to detect a danger in all objective study. This
social phenomenon affords the strongest argument inclining me
to believe that Watson has found the Achilles heel of your "old"
psychology.
Ladies and gentlemen, you do protest too much.
Affectionately yours,
W. S. HUNTER.
THI UNIVERSITY or KANSAS.
VOL. XIX., No. 12 JUNE 8, 1922
THE JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
REALISM WITHOUT MONISM OR DUALISM I
KNOWLEDGE INVOLVING THE PAST
TN his contribution to the volume of Essays in Critical Realism
Professor Lovejoy maintains that pragmatism can make good
a profession of realism only by aligning itself with a dualistic epis-
temology such as is presented by his collaborators and himself. He
supports this contention largely by an examination of passages
drawn from my writings. The least I can do is either to express
my assent or state the grounds for witholding it. Certain of his
points, and those perhaps of the more fundamental character, though
occupying less space, concern the conception of experience. This
phase of the matter is reserved for independent treatment. Other
points seem, however, to adapt themselves to separate discussion,
and to them I address myself. The first has to do with knowledge of
the past, or, as from my standpoint I should prefer to say, knowledge
about past events or involving them.
This kind of knowledge is taken by Mr. Lovejoy, as by many
others, to constitute a stronghold for a representative or dualistic
theory of knowledge. Even the monistic epistemologists appear to
accept some kind of transcendent pointing to and lighting upon some
isolated thing of the past, carrying, apparently, its own place in the
past or date in its bosom, though they deny the existence of an in-
termediate psychical state and fall back on a knower in general or a
brain process to make the specific transcendent reference. To me,
this latter difference seems a minor matter compared with the ques-
tion of a leap into a past which is treated as out of connection with
the present. Consequently, I have tried to show that knowledge
where the past is implicated is logically knowledge of past-as-con-
nected-with-present-or-future, or stating the matter in its order, of
the present and the future as implicating a certain past. After
several pages which seem to me largely irrelevant to my own con-
ception, Mr. Lovejoy states what my conception actually is and says
of it (p. 68) that it is "the most effective and plausible part of the
pragmatist's dialectical reasoning against the possibility of strictly
'retrospective' knowledge." It certainly should be; it expresses
the gist of my discussion.
309
310 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
The point concerns the relation of verification to thought and
hence to knowledge. Verification of thought about the past must
be present or future; unless, then, thought about the past has a
future reference in its meaning, how can it .be verified f With ref-
erence to this question, Mr. Lovejoy is good enough to state that
my "paradox" involves an attempt to escape from a real difficulty
or at least what appears as a difficulty. Before coming to Mr.
Lovejoy 's specific objections, let me develop this point. Quite apart
from pragmatism, an empiricist who is empirical in the sense
of trying to follow the method of science in dealing with natural
existences, will feel logically bound to call nothing knowledge which
does not admit of verification. To him, then, judgments about the
past will present themselves as hypothetical until verified which
can take place only in some object of present or future experience.
In contemplating the possibility of applying this conception to
ordinary "memory-judgments," he will be struck by what is going
on in the natural sciences. He will see that many zoologists have
ceased to be satisfied with theories about past evolution which rest
simply upon a plausible harmonizing of past events, that they are
now engaged in experimentation to get present results, that the
tendency is to find present, and hence observable, processes which
determine certain consequences.- He finds geologists attempting
verification by experiment as well as by search for additional facts.
Turning to another field of judgments about the past he finds that
"literary" historians are influenced by the striking or picturesque
or moral phases of the events they deal with, and by their lending
themselves to composition into a harmonious picture, while "scien-
tific" historians are not only more scrupulous about the facts, but
search for new, as yet hidden, facts, to bear out their inferential
reconstructions. There is nothing inherently paradoxical in saying
that such emphatic scientific cases should give us our clew to under-
standing the logic of everyday cases which are not scientifically regu-
lated.
I see a letter box ; there is an observed thing. It is a common-
place that every recollection starts, directly or indirectly, with some-
thing perceived, immediately present. It suggests a letter. This
may remain a mere suggestion. The thought of a letter written
yesterday or last year may become simply something for fancy to
sport with an esthetic affair, what I call a reminiscence. Truth
or falsity does not enter into the case. But it may give rise to
questions. Did I actually write the letter or only mean to? If I
wrote it. did I mail it or leave it on my desk or in my pocket? Then
I do something. I search my pockets. I look on my desk. I may
REALISM WITHOUT MONISM OR DUALISM 311
even write the person in question and inquire if he received a letter
written on a certain date. By such means a tentative inference gets
a categorical status. A logical right accrues, if the experiments are
successful, to assert the letter was or was not written. Generalize
the case and you get the logical theory concerning knowledge about
the past which so troubles Mr. Lovejoy. 1
So far, however, the gravamen of Mr. Lovejoy 's objection is not
touched. He replies that the meaning of the judgment concerns the
past as such, so that verification even if future is of a meaning about
the past. Only the locus of verification is future : means of proof,
but not the thing proved. Consequently, my argument confuses
what the original judgment meant and knew itself to mean with an
extraneous matter, the time of its verification (see p. 69 of E. C. R.).
It may be doubted whether dialectically the case is as clear as Mr.
Lovejoy 's distinction makes it out to be. In what conceivable way
can a future event be even the means of validating a judgment about
the past, if the meaning of the future event and the meaning of the
past event are as dissevered as Mr. Love joy's argument requires?
Take the case of questions about the past which are intrinsically
unanswerable, at least by any means now at our command. What did
Brutus eat for his morning meal the day he assassinated Csesar?
There are those who call a statement on such a matter a judgment
or proposition in a logical sense. It seems to me that at most it is
but an esthetic fancy such as may figure in the pages of a historic
novelist who wishes to add realistic detail to his romance. Whence
comes the intellectual estoppal? From the fact, I take it, that the
things eaten for breakfast have left no consequences which are now
observable. Continuity has been interrupted. Only when the past
event which is judged is a going concern having effects still directly
observable are judgment and knowledge possible.
The point of this conclusion is that it invalidates the sharp and
fixed line which Mr. Lovejoy has drawn between the meaning of the
past and the so-called means of verification. So far as the meaning
is wholly of and in the past, it can not be recovered for knowledge.
This negative consideration suggests that the true object of a judg-
ment about a past event may be a past-event-having-a-connection-
continuing-into-the-present-and-future. This brings us back, of
course, to my original contention. What can be said by way of fact
to support its hypothetical possibility?
i Mr. Lovejoy remarks in passing that "we have even developed a tech-
nique by means of which we believe ourselves able to distinguish certain of these
representations of the past as false and others as true" (pp. 67-68 of E. C. E.~).
I do not see how an account of this technique could fail to confirm the position
taken above; I am willing to risk it.
312 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
Let us begin with what is called reminiscence. The tendency to
tell stories of what has happened to one in the past, to revive interest
ing situations in which one has figured, is a well-known fact. So far
as the stories are told to illustrate some present situation, to supply
material to deal with some present perplexity, to get instruction or
give advice, they exemplify what is said about prospective meaning.
But there are only a few persons who confine themselves to what is
intellectually pertinent, who cut down reminiscence to its bare logical
bones. Esthetic interests modify the tale, and personal, more or
less egoistic, interests fill it up and round it out. The development
of reminiscence in old age is doubtless in part compensatory for
withdrawal from the actual scene and its imminent problems, its
urgencies for action.
Taking, however, whatever intellectual core there may be, such as
the material that is employed to give advice to another as to how
to deal with a confused and unclear situation, there appears a clear
distinction between subject-matter employed and object meant. The
past occurrence is not the meaning of the propositions. It is rather
so much stuff upon the basis of which to predicate something re-
garding the better course of action to follow, the latter being the object
meant. It makes little difference whether the past episode drawn
upon is reported with literal correctness or not. Imagination usually
plays with it and in the direction of rendering it more pertinent to
the case in hand. This does not necessarily affect the value of the
judgment the advice given as to the course of action which it is
better to pursue, or the object of judgment. The facts cited, the
illustrative material adverted to in support of the conception that a
certain course is better, are subject-matter, but not the meaning or
object.
Such a case does not directly and obviously cover judgments
about the past. If the one giving advice began to reflect upon the
pertinency of his own past experience to the new issue, we may
imagine him going back over the past episode to judge how correctly
he has reported it. Just what was it that happened, anyway f
This sort of case is crucial for my theory. It exemplifies the situation
in which Mr. Lovejoy claims that the meaning to be verified is ex-
clusively concerned with the past even though the locus of means
of verification be future. It is worthy of note that, by illustration,
this examination of the correctness of the present notion about the
past arises out of a problem about the present and future. It is
conceivable that specific reference to the past is, after all, only part
of the procedure of making judgment about the present as adequate
as possible.
REALISM WITHOUT MONISM OR DUALISM 313
This point is not stressed, however, for it is, at this stage of
discussion, an easy retort that such an inference follows only because
the illustration has already been loaded and aimed in that direction.
As a suggestion, however, it may be borne in mind. What does
positively emerge from the prior discussion is a distinction between
subject-matter and object of judgment and knowledge. How far is
the distinction a general one ? It is not one introduced ad hoc for
the discussion of judgments about the past. It characterizes by
logical necessity any inquiry. For if the object were present, there
would be no inquiry, no thought or inference, no judgment in any
intellectual sense of that word. On the other hand, there must be
subject-matter, there must be accepted considerations, or else there
is no basis for constructing or discovering the object. A verdict
represents the judgment in a court of law ; it contains the object, the
thing meant. Evidence presented and rules of law applied furnish
subject-matter. These are diverse and complicated and only gradually
is the object framed from them. A scientific inquiry about Einstein's
theory, the nature of temperature, or the cause of earthquakes presents
the same contrast of an ultimate object, still unattained and question-
able, and subject-matter which is progressively presented and sifted
till it coheres into an object, when judgment terminates. 2
If we apply this generic and indispensable distinction to analysis
of judgments about the past, it seems to me that the following con-
clusion naturally issues: The nature of the past event is subject-
matter required in order to make a reasonable judgment about the
present or future. The latter thus constitutes the object or genuine
meaning of the judgment. Take the illustration of the letter. Its
object must be described in some such terms as the following. What
is the state of affairs as between some other person and myself!
Is his letter acknowledged or no ; is the deal closed, the engagement
made, the assurance given or no? The only subject-matter which
will permit an answer to the question is some past episode. Hence
the necessity of coming to close quarters with that past event. In
the subject-matter there are always at least two alternatives, while
the object is singular and unmistakable. Either I wrote the letter
or I did not. Which thought or hypothesis is correct? There can
be no inquiry without just such incompatible alternatives present to
mind. I have to clear up the question of what is the object of judg-
ment by settling its appropriate subject-matter : what has happened.
The object of the judgment in short is the fulfillment of an intention,
2 Subject-matter is not to be confused with data. It is wider than data. It
includes all considerations which are adduced as relevant, whether by way of
factual data or accepted meanings, while data signifies such facts as are defi-
nitely selected for employment as evidential.
314 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
I intended or meant to enter into certain relations with a correspon-
dent. Have I done so or is the matter still hanging fire t Certainly,
whether or not my analysis is correct, there does not appear to be
anything forced or paradoxical about the view that in all such cases
the actual thing meant, the object of judgment, is prospective. 8
To protect the conclusion from appearing to depend upon the
quality of the particular illustration used, namely one involving a
personal past and personal course of action, we need an impersonal
instance of a past episode. That provided by Mr. Lovejoy may be
employed. "When I point to this morning's puddles as proof that
it rained last night, the puddles are the means of proof but not the
thing proved. For verification-purposes their sole interest to me
is not in themselves, but in what they permit me to infer about last
night's weather. If someone shows me that they were made by the
watering-cart, they become irrelevant to the subject-matter of my
inquiry though the same proposition about the future, 'there will
be puddles in the street,' is still fulfilled by them" (p. 69 of
E. C. R.). One wishes that Mr. Lovejoy had subjected his state-
ment to the same critical scrutiny to which he has exposed mine.
When it is examined, certain interesting results present themselves.
In the first place, my conception is not contained or expressed
by any such judgment as that "there are or will be puddles in the
street." The implication of my hypothesis is that the object of
judgment is that "prior rain has present and future conse-
quences," such as puddles, or floods, or refreshment of crops, or
filling of cisterns, etc. In denying that the past event is as such
the object of knowledge, it is not asserted that a particular present
or future object is its sole and exhaustive object, but that the content
of past time has "a future reference and function." * That is, the
object is some past event in its connection with present and future
effects and consequences. The past by itself and the present by
itself are both arbitrary selections which mutilate the complete ob-
ject of judgment. What appears in the above case of the letter as
a fulfilment of intention, appears here as a temporal sequence of
condition and consequence. In each case, the past incident is part
of the subject-matter of inquiry which enters into its object only
when referred to a present or future event or fact.
In the second place, analysis reveals that the proposition "there
3 The argument does not depend upon any ambiguity between objective and
object. As long as inquiry is going on the object is an objective because it is
atill dn question. The final object represents some objective taking settled and
definitive form.
As Mr. Lovejoy quotes from me. (p. 67 of E. C. 22.). I do not wish to
daim, however, that I have previously made this point as clearly as I am now
making it.
REALISM WITHOUT MONISM OR DUALISM 315
will be puddles in the street" is not the same in case the passage
of the watering-cart is the past event which properly enters into
the subject-matter of inquiry. It is by further investigation of
present and future facts that it is determined whether a watering-
cart or a shower is the actual past event. Not all streets will have
puddles if the watering-cart was the cause, or at least roofs won't
be wet, cisterns won't be replenished, farmers' soil moistened. If
we consult the value of accurate weather reports to a mariner or a
member of the Chicago Board of Trade, we get light upon the real
object of a judgment involving past weather conditions. The point
is the connection of past-present-future, a temporal continuum. Pre-
cisely to avoid such incomplete inferences as are manifested in the
conclusion "there will be puddles in the street" on the basis of con-
siderations like those adduced in Mr. Lovejoy's illustration, we
make the exact nature of the past event the theme of exact and scru-
pulous inquiry. 5 The importance of the present as basis of infer-
ence about the past is seen in the growing importance in science of
contemporary records, registrations, devices for carrying over the
past event into things which can be inspected in the present, devices
for measuring and registering the lapse of time, etc. This makes the
difference between scientific thought and loose popular thought.
The reference to or connection with the present and future comes
in at the completing end. The present not only supplies the only
data for a correct inference about the past, but since the poten-
tialities or meanings of the present depend upon the conditions of
the past with which they are correlated, future events are also
implied as part of the meaning. If a watering-cart, or a local
shower, then no effect upon crops, no effect upon the prices of grain ;
or, on a lesser scale, no needed precautions as to wearing rubbers.
The logical bearing of the earlier reference (p. 311) to the im-
possibility of judgments about the past without continuing and present
consequences ought now to be clearer. My analysis may be correct
or incorrect : that is a question of fact. But the account given does
not involve an arbitrary paradox undertaken in behalf of some pet
theory. The real point at issue is whether, as long as we are deal-
ing with isolated, self-sufficient events or affairs, anything which is
properly called knowledge and object of knowledge can exist. The
real point of Mr. Lovejoy's argument is that isolated, self-complete
things are truly objects of knowledge. My theory denies the validity
of this conception. It asserts that mere presence in experience is
quite a different matter from knowledge or judgment, which always
involves a connection, and, where time enters in, a connection of
8 That is, we examine present things more carefully and extensively.
316 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
past with past and future. The reader may not accept this theory, in
spite of its congruity with all the best authenticated cases of knowl-
edge of matter of fact, namely, the objects of science. But when the
secondary matter of inconsistency or arbitrary paradox is concerned,
it is essential to grasp this point. The case of judgment involving
past events is but one case of the general (logical) theory as to knowl-
edge. And as I have pointed out before, it makes it possible to drop
out the epistemological theory of mysterious "transcendence," and
deal with problems on the basis of objective temporal connections of
events, where we never are obliged, even in judgments about the
remotest geological past, to get outside events capable of future and
present consideration. Once recognize that thoughts about the past
hang upon present observable events and are verified by future
predicted or anticipated events which are capable of entering into
direct presentation, and the machinery of transcendence and of
epistemological dualism (or monism) is in so far eliminated.
What is the alternative to my conception ? Mr. Lovejoy makes it
clear what the alternative is. After all, we have not got very far when
we have postulated a psychical somewhat that somehow transcends
itself and leaps back into the past. How do we know that it is not
leaping into the air or into some quite wrong past ? In speaking of
this point, and denying the possibility of fulfilling meanings about
the past, or of their verification proper, he mentions ' ' an irresistible
propensity to believe that some of them are in fact valid meanings"
(p. 70, italics mine). An irresistible propensity which applies to
"some" meanings and not to others is, to say the least, a curious
fact. It suggests that perhaps the propensity is most unreliable
when it is most irresistible. He speaks also of indirect verification
based on "instinctive assumptions" (p. 71). He says that a truly
pragmatic analysis "would include an enumeration of the not-im-
mediately-given-things which it is needful for the effective agent, at
that moment, to believe or assume ... if the process of reflection is
to be of any service to him in the framing of an effective plan of
action" (p. 70). He charges me as a pragmatist of failing to live
up to pragmatism and. "trying to transcend one of the most inescap-
able limitations of human thought" (p. 70).
There are pragmatists who fall back on instinctive assumptions
and propensities, as a ground for accepting and asserting meanings
to be valid. They will welcome Mr. Lovejoy to the fold. But the
author of "Thirteen Varieties of Pragmatism" should be cognizant
that there is a variety not of the "will to believe" type. If his
conception is such a fixed part of the definition of pragmatism that
refusing to admit it is inconsistent with pragmatism, then, as I have
DIFFERENTIATING PRINCIPLE OF RELIGION 317
said before, I have no claim to be called a pragmatist. I am even
hopeful that his clear statement of instinctive propensity versus
logical verification as the alternatives will help convert some non-
pragmatists to my account of knowledge involving past events.
Enumeration of the things needful to assume in framing an effec-
tive plan of action is an undoubted part of the process. But it is a
hypothetical enumeration. Part of the operation of intelligent for-
mation of a plan of action is to note what the needs of the situation
are. But the needs of an agent can themselves be judiciously esti-
mated only in connection with other matters which enter into the
situation along with the agent. To isolate the needs or propensities
of the agent and regard them as grounds of belief in the validity of
meaning seems to be the essence of subjectivism. And when the
plan of action is framed it is still tentative. It is verified or con-
demned by its consequences. A propensity without doubt suggests
a certain view and plan : when employed in connection with environ-
ing factors it makes a view or plan worthy of acceptance for trial,
acceptance as a working hypothesis. Beyond this point, the notion
that a propensity, however practically irresistible, or an assumption,
however instinctive if there be such things apart from habit war-
rants belief that a meaning is valid commits us to a subjectivism
which is, to my mind, the most seriously objectionable thing in
idealism.
It is Mr. Love joy, it seems to me, who is committed to a subjective
pragmatism.
JOHN DEWEY.
COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY.
THE DIFFERENTIATING PRINCIPLE OF RELIGION
THE most common conception of religion that has formed the
basis of theological definition is that which general-
izes man 's total outlook upon the world as a whole. This view, which
assumes that the sphere of religion and the world are commeasurable,
is chargeable to a deeply rooted fear that some vital element, essential
to the fulness of spiritual experience, may be omitted if religion is
defined exclusively in any specific phase of devotional activity. The
complexity of the religious consciousness appears to prohibit any
exemption in the spiritual sphere; which is to say, religion insists
upon being as inclusive as life itself. Consequently, suspicion or un-
popularity is usually associated with attempts at simplification, such
as basing religion fundamentally in emotion, or belief, or will or any
single element for which priority is claimed. The widest and most
318 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
inclusive view of the world in its totality and completeness is the
conception which has met with the greatest favor in the minds of
those to whom we owe our standardized definitions.
But this determination to maintain a religious monopoly upon the
universe has strained to the breaking point our intellectual con-
scientiousness ; for an average amount of reflection will make it clear
that those who have sought to define the nature of religion specifi-
cally in terms of fear, or wonder, or reverence, or love, or any other
simple element, though they have failed in exactness, have been at
any rate upon, the right track, since religion and life can not be said
to coalesce at all points and the object of definition is differentia-
tion. That which is richest in universality is proportionately poorer
in elucidation.
In order to survey the extent of the religious field and estimate
how wide a realm lies under spiritual control, we should begin by
determining the fixed center of spiritual gravity, so to speak, for
the circumference is an ever-shifting circle. It is impossible to
measure the boundaries of the religious realm once for all, but it is
possible and necessary to determine the principle that obtains in all
true religion. The world of human experience is an ever-widening
one and it is a natural error to conceive the province of religion as
constantly enlarging to keep pace with this expansion, but in reality
the reverse is true. Modern thought is fully alive to the need of a
practical evaluation of spiritual reals, an evaluation which is bound
to reduce the scope of religious activities to decidely narrow, and
more and more exclusive boundaries. In other words, the world is
becoming less quantitatively spiritual than ever before, and this
fact suggests the need of establishing more precisely than has yet
been done with any degree of confidence the nature of the differen-
tiating principle which marks off the specific realm of genuine re-
ligion from other parts of existence.
Let me recall some ways in which religion has been narrowed
down. The Platonic inheritance of the Good, the True and the
Beautiful, appropriated by Christianity as permanent apartments
of the religious sphere, is being annulled and, in fact, is already
practically spent. The fields of art, truth (philosophic) not to men-
tion science have long overpast the boundaries of religious con-
trol. In the beginning, science was subdued somehow, though awk-
wardly, art was more gracefully submissive, and truth (i.e.,
Truth semel pro semper) became more or less the faithful handmaid
of theology; and this religious inclusiveness went along with the
general cosmic idea of Deity whose omnipotent sway knew no bounds
or limitations. This traditional all-embracing view, however, has
DIFFERENTIATING PRINCIPLE OF RELIGION 319
been conspicuously modified in recent years. Science pursues a free
course, art is independent of religious control, truth already has
gained a large degree of functional liberty, and morals, always rest-
less and impatient of spiritual restraint, would seem to be striving
to throw off the religious yoke and attain the freedom which science
enjoys.
Without debating the relative merits of the good, the true, the
beautiful and the dynamic to achieve independence in their respec-
tive fields, it is obvious that religion must forego her claim of absolute
inclusiveness and recognize legitimate limitations. And if the signs
of the times are truly discerned, one may conclude that religion, her-
self, is not loth to surrender the idea of cosmic universality in ex-
change for one that is more intensive and less abstract.
Such a radical tendency or change in spiritual activities has been
brought about in the following way. Before the study of compara-
tive religion had become an accepted part of Christian apologetic
in relatively recent times it was the custom to classify world
religions according to a general standard as true or false, Christian-
ity in some form or other being set off against all other systems of
faith as the truth, the rival beliefs being gauged as false, or at any
rate merely more or less true certainly less. To-day, however, this
formal system of classification has been discarded, and we are in-
clined, quite universally, to formulate a system of classification upon
a scale of the better and the worse or according to a principle of
practical value. Instead of rating the so-called world religions out-
side Christianity as though they were not religions at all, in the strict
sense of the word, since they are not wholly true, we are willing to
admit that non-Christian beliefs and practises are expressive of
religion, qua religion, only not so good, not so high and pure, not
so valuable, functionally, as the dominant faith of the world to-day.
This change of mind testifies to an important modification of our
idea of the nature of religion, the essence of which is thought to in-
here in that which constitutes value for moral and spiritual life. Re-
ligious practise is no longer judged with reference to the truth of a
belief simply, but is determined by a criterion of value or worth ;
and belief, itself, is expressed more and more in terms of a practical
nature. All the world cults, therefore, are recognized for what they
are worth ; and all successful missionary efforts are based upon this
recognition. Consequently we speak of one form of religion as better
than another or a particular element as less good than another; the
criterion of truth is relegated to second place and the principle of
value or goodness prevails. The result is that religion becomes ex-
clusive inasmuch as she limits herself to that which is the highest
320 JO URNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
and best, and in the interest of the greater values she eliminates the
lesser and irrelevant. What a departure, then, from the position
of thinkers in the time of Mill who wrote, "If religion, or any par-
ticular form of it is true, its usefulness follows without any other
proof/' 1
To realize that the best religion must inevitably become increas-
ingly finite, i.e., restricted in scope and limited in function, may ap-
pear at first to be radically opposed to the commonly cherished ideal
of religion's primacy and the catholicity of spiritual aims. But is
this the case? I venture to suggest that the reverse is tme. Can
not religion, as a palpable ideal and an actual driving force, succeed
better in the dissemination and conservation of the good by an intensi-
fication of power through the limitation of her range?
The problem, therefore, that arises is this : If religion in the only
form now acceptable to us is only a part of life and no longer the
constitutive principle of the whole, what part does she concentrate
upon and in ? Such a question is the direct consequent of our depart-
ure from a crumbling traditional position which accepted or rejected
spiritual contributions according to a principal of standardized truth.
In other words, inasmuch as we now employ various practical gauges
of value to test the relevancy of religious ideals to moral and spirit-
ual ends, we are bound to consider religion from the exclusive point
of view, and ask: What elements have lost their original spiritual
value ? or, What factors should be discarded as never having had suf-
ficient genuine spiritual worth to justify their survival? That is
to say, we are narrowing down the circle of the religious sphere, and
leaving more and more of life to the non-religious field. The question
remains then: What survivals are essential for spiritual progress?
Before I attempt to state my thesis in answer to this problem,
let me emphasize again the necessity of the factor of religious elim-
ination. The primary tendency or instinct of organisms to develop
from the simple to the complex, from the general to the particular,
from the single to the plural is coordinate with a law of progress
which organizes by a process of elimination. Steps of tho advance
can usually be discerned by the lopping off of valueless survivals.
The broader syntheses through nature's analytical working, com-
parison, selection, and ever-renewed coordination, are resolved into
more centralized and richer organizations. And human naturt, like-
wise, refines itself by specification. Along with the process of dif-
ferentation, integral contractions take place wherein the less good
gives way to the better as values are estimated according to the pur-
posive workings of the organism. Man realizes himself more per-
i Cf. Three Essays on Religion, p. 69.
DIFFERENTIATING PRINCIPLE OF RELIGION 321
fectly, i.e., successfully, as he becomes acquainted with himself com-
positely, in detail, aware of mixed and combating motives, varied
and crossed sentiments, of the pluralistic situation within himself.
But to advance means to refine, i.e., to judge, choose and discard.
In the end, consciousness, as a self-principle, is more and more ex-
elusive in relation to the ever-increasing richness of experience ; and
character necessitates constant revaluation and reconstruction in
order to maintain its intrinsic worth.
The religious man attains the highest unity, not at the sacrifice
of the elemental multiplicity of experience, but at the sacrifice of
what he is unwilling to identify with himself ; he is more concretely
an individual, not at the expense of experimental experience, but at
the cost of what he refuses to incorporate into himself ; he is a more
unique personality, not because appreciations are limited or pioneer
adventures are shirked, but on account of his persistent determina-
tion to ally himself only with the highest and best things in the
world. The religious man, in other words, is intensively and in-
tegrally good because he dispenses with the less worthy in order to
concentrate upon that which alone is worth the greatest effort. In
brief, the best man is specifically good; there is an originality in
his goodness, and a manifest moral partiality in his estimate and
appropriation of values. If "he sets his teeth" in the not-self of
his environment, he will not bite off, or rather, he will not swallow,
what the best of him can not digest and assimilate properly.
Such a specification of virtue is the inevitable result of moral
activities within the particular station of the individual. No one
person can have a monopoly of the virtues ; and if it were possible,
he would be able to exercise but those which pertained to his own
peculiar office and vocation. Consequently we see the soldier con-
spicuous for courage, the economist for prudence, the student for
intellectual integrity, the man of average ability for temperance,
the prophet for spiritual insight, the priest for piety and so on. A
harmony of all the virtues, coordinated and organized, such as Plato
delineated in the Phcedrus under the picture of the charioteer who
drove the passions courageously and prudently is practically obsolete
as an ideal because of the unreal abstractions involved in the con-
ception. The real man exercises and perfects only those virtues
which are applicable to his own personal situation. It may be con-
cluded, then, that personality grows and is shaped according as it
excludes all factors which contribute nothing to, or would detract
from, the dominant purpose controlling specific self-realization.
If this brief sketch of the extension and intension of human per-
sonality is true in the main, may we not unhesitatingly believe that the
322 JO URNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
progress of religion will follow much the same lines ? Some religious
material will be dropped naturally from time to time as it is out-
grown and outworn, and the rules of this elimination will be subject
to a principle of discrimination. What this principle is, is exactly
the subject of our enquiry. When we see that one religion excels
another, that certain elements are obviously more valuable than
others, and that many survivals have become worthless and must ac-
cordingly be dispensed with as irrelevant or incompatible with the
more important factors, then the problem arises : What is the stand-
ard gauge? It is the answer to this question which will nicely de-
termine the exact field of religion.
Let us see what actual signs point to the growing exclusivene*s
of religion, in what way the secular realm is being enlarged for
greater gain to that which constitutes the essential quality of spirit-
ual life. For example, then, what we shall eat, what we shall drink,
what we shall wear, how we shall plant our fields, how we shall build
our temples, what we shall teach, what books shall be written and the
thousand and one details over which in the past religion exercised and
exorcised her autocratic say are now excluded from the province of
the best religious faith and practise. We have offered the purely
material and mechanical field to science that religion may gain
the more freedom in her own realm ; we have allowed the philosopher
freer play in the realm of truth, permitted art a greater liberty in
the region of the beautiful, surrendered to psychology the secrets
of our inner life, to sociology matters of organization, to the state,
matters of law all that religion may enrich herself more speedily
after her special liking. We have sold all, or almost all, we possess
for the one jewel of great price ; we pay the greater price to Caesar
that God may receive the purer treasure. If, then, religion abandons
much of her wonder to philosophy and much of her miracle to
science and many personal mysteries to psychology, and surrenders
her beauty largely to art, her organization and statutes to sociology
and economics, the importance of what she refuses to relinquish is
quite obvious.
The answer now to our problem is not difficult to see ; but do we
realize what this means or is going to mean to the future of religion ?
The final stronghold of religion being moral life, toward which end
all present religious movements are conspicuously pointing, is this.
an inspiring sign of the times or a weakness in modern spirituality ?
I venture to state that this pressure upon and centralizing in morali-
ties is beyond praise and must prove a source of unlooked-for hope
in these troublous times ; for the moral-religious merger means a new
vision of human character transcending the present form of our
DIFFERENTIATING PRINCIPLE OF RELIGION 323
ethos and all out of proportion with its development hitherto, as
well as a fresh glory for religion in bringing heaven down to earth.
It is, therefore, in this special field, morality in its widest con-
notation, that we see religion crowding back and the portent is mo-
mentous. And just here in spite of the dangerous forces which have
assaulted the fair moral stature of humanity, if the most trustworthy
signs of the times are to be accredited, religion appears to be easily
holding her own. She can not and will not permit a trade or sport
in the moral nature of mankind. We have sadly learned nostro
periculo that a large measure of personality is not equivalent with
goodness. Individual self-realization or community-realization is
attended with the greatest dangers of distortion when divorced
from spiritual control. The horrible fact of dgemonic personality is
only too well disclosed by the ruthlessness of "civilized" warfare.
We have beheld with moral terror the dispassionate elimination of
all that unfits a person for the achievement of his ends and the com-
mon ends of his fellows regardless of a scale of values which should
determine the better and the worse, resulting, not simply in the crime
of a renaissance of barbaric civilization, but in something more in-
tolerable, namely, the felonious act of producing the personality of
the savage and not the mere savage, unintellectual and cruel, rather
the savage as an ideal, as the amoral apotheosis of force.
Strange as it may sound, we must admit that the incorrigible
enemies of peace are idealists. Ideals, when genuine, are intimate,
individualistic and unique ; which is to say, ideals are nothing if not
a matter of singular personality. They are the stuff that is naturally
radical and wilful. Hence the danger lies exactly here: the fact
that it is the instinctive tendency, the whim, the spirit of an ideal
to have its fling, to play truant, to adventure into romance, to for-
sake the familiar in search of the unfamiliar in ways remote. In
other words, ideals are the flower of moral abstractions ; they sprout
and flourish upon a stock of truth which grows out of the philosophic
or metaphysical mind ; they delight an ambitious imagination with an
intoxicating fragrance until nothing can withstand them nothing
but the hard facts of life and the opposition of other ideals. It fol-
lows, then, that because of the superior force of idealistic energies
they require the special discipline of the most practical judgments
of value that, religion can formulate, or character is ruined.
To supply this standard of personal worth is the rationale of
religion. And such is the moral emergency of the present-day world.
It is exactly at this point and with this definite end in view that re-
ligion enters the social conflict. All of which suggests the differenti-
ating feature of religion, namely, moral interests. In this field,
324 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
religion must continue to exercise and maintain her peculiar power,
to magnetize the moral compass, to spiritualize ideals, to gauge the
perfect measure of the right. Morality is the child, religion the
parent; but forever "the child is father to the man."
The antithesis of the Christian standard, which I have tried to
do justice to, along modern lines, is that of the orthodox Pharisee,
a product of the inclusiveness of later Judaism with its rigid law.
The wonderful moral impetus given to Old Testament religion by
the prophetic analysis of the better and the worse, of the good and
the evil, of the righteous and the wicked, was neutralized and blocked
by this type of religious inclusiveness. The curious anomaly of the
Pharisee, viz., a separateness from worldliness combined with an
attempt to bring all of life completely within the compass of the
Law, presents a picture of religious inclusion. This "separateness"
from the world was a contradictio in adjecto to the rule of life pro-
fessed and a shallow unreality. The truth of the matter is that the
Pharisees identified worldliness after all with religion. And this
was precisely the trouble. His religion was too inclusive ; it had no
distinct character which permitted the functioning of comparative
values ; so that there was no better and worse, no greater command-
ment, in his conception of moral and spiritual life. All was con-
stituted on the same level, the dead level, so to speak.
It is in this sense that modern religion may be characterized as
finite; because of a specialization in moralities. If we are willing
to withdraw from other fields, it is because there is one pearl of great
price which absorbs all our enthusiasm ; and though this fine spirit-
ual exclusiveness may involve the abandonment of some long-cher-
ished cosmic beliefs and the difficult sacrifice of many dear hopes,
and though haunting clouds of darkness may hover over the unex-
plored ground where ultimately religion and morals meet, still no
truly loving heart need fear self-deception when the spirit of Christ
manifest in any good action whatsoever is identified with Christ
himself. For love is the most accurate moral compass with which
human nature is endowed.
In this highly specialized and highly secularized world of ours
rightly so our alarm at the loss of much that had been thought to
belong indissolubly to religion, which is now being withheld from
her without protest, may be assuaged by recollecting that these same
limitations of religion will intensify her power. This is well illus-
trated in the history of Israel, Christianity in the making, for the
Hebrews were one of the most narrow-minded nations, intellectually,
that the world has ever seen : they could not be compared favorably
with the Egyptians for mechanical and industrial ability, nor with
INTELLIGENCE AND INTELLECT 325
the Phoenicians for commerce, nor with the Philistines for art, nor
with the Assyrians for war, nor with the Babylonians for general
versatility, nor with the Sumerians for literary originality, nor with
the Greeks for philosophy, nor, we may add, with the Anglo-Saxons
for science; but, nevertheless, they thought the more profoundly in
religion and the more practically in morals. 2 All of which goes to
show that an intensification of spiritual experience more than com-
pensates for a want of general inclusiveness.
In conclusion, let me summarize the results of this enquiry. Some
principle of differentiation is necessary to mark the proper sphere
of religion since one of the most conspicious signs of modern religion
is the breaking up of the traditional religious hegemony that has so
long prevailed over all departments of life. Religion also must
make clear her distinctive character because the conditions of defi-
nition require a positive shrinking in extension and a reduction to
more precise specification. The terms in which religious concepts
are expressed may be the changing phases of life of successive gener-
ations, but the field of religious interest and action can not change.
We are helped in marking out the boundaries of this permanent
field by the successful tendency for specialization conspicuous to-day
in all directions and approved by the best intelligence. And this,
in respect to religious activities, is indubitably the field of moral
interests and all that makes for righteousness in character and in
nationality. Here lies the impregnable stronghold of the Kingdom.
From whatever planes of activity religious forces withdraw, here
the retreat must ultimately halt ; and within these specific lines re-
ligion must forever exercise her control. What we are beginning,
then, to see is this: religion not only subscribes to and sanctions
the best morality, but moral character itself is religion objectified
and realized.
H. C. ACKERMAN.
NASHOTAH, Wis.
INTELLIGENCE AND INTELLECT
IT is well known that certain words and terms make a greater
appeal to the mind of the public than others. Psychologists are
perhaps not to be included among the public, inasmuch as they,
in common with all other scientists, are supposed to select their terms
and not to allow themselves to be guided by ordinary usage. But try
as one will, there are certain circumstances which rule over the fate
2(7/. Laura H. Wild: The Evolution of tTie Hebrew People, Part IV
passim.
326 JO URNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
of words and so bring it about that the one becomes a technical term
and is discussed interminably in books and periodicals while the
other, with just as high a pedigree, is relegated to the plane of popu-
lar parlance.
Such has happened with the two words "intelligence" and "in-
tellect." Both are derived from a common source, intelligere, which,
when analyzed into its components, means to choose, to pick out (and
incidentally shows what good psychological insight the Romans were
possessed of) ; both ran almost a parallel course since the days of the
Renaissance, yet of the two, the term intelligence had the more event-
ful career, until it has even been made to turn a behavioristic somer-
sault, while intellect is still the staid and dignified entity as of old,
and as a result, is doomed to the traditional treatment of lexicog-
raphers and literary men.
From the very first, the word intelligence had the advantage in
its range of applicability. The distinction drawn between intelli-
gence and intellect in the Dictionary of Philosophy and Psychology
is not clear-cut, though the tendency "to apply the term intellect
more especially to the capacity for conceptual thinking" is noted.
The delineation of the same term in the Encyclopedia Britannica is
carried out along similar lines. "A man is described as 'intellectual*
generally because he is occupied with theory and principles rather
than with practise, often with the further implication that his theories
are concerned mainly with abstract matters; he is aloof from the
world, and especially is a man of training and culture who cares
little for the ordinary pleasures of sense." It must appear evident
to most readers that such a description of the intellectual man does
not provide us with the cues for discriminating between intelligence
and intellect, and at the same time draws a too sharp antithesis
between two qualities which may subsist in the same individual. Bis-
marck, though concerned with practical matters and not a theoreti-
cian, might have been an intellectual person, even if he did not ac-
tually happen to be such. Besides, until we were able to draw the
line of cleavage between the theoretical and the practical, our cri-
terion would be of no avail. The same observation applies to the
account in the New International Encyclopedia in which the intel-
lectual man is said, according to current usage, to possess "special
ability in dealing with the abstract and theoretical, while the intelli-
gent man is efficient in concrete situations and practical affairs."
In his article on "Animal Intelligence" in the Britannica, Lloyd
Morgan sets down the difference as one between perceptual (sen-
sory) and conceptual (ideational) modes of behavior. This dis-
tinction was probably grounded in the results obtained in animal psy-
chology, so that thanks to the labors of Romanes, the phrase "Animal
INTELLIGENCE AND INTELLECT 327
Intelligence" became one of the most widely used expressions in
psychology. But in spite of its empirical background, the phrase
pointed to a particular interpretation which need not necessarily be
accepted, and which, furthermore, was vigorously attacked by Was-
mann and Mivart.
Prof. Warren seems to think that the term intelligence, as applied
to animals in the eighties and nineties, had acquired a distinctly be-
havioristie meaning, and points out that Thorndike, in particular,
applied it to his mazes and trick fastenings. Commenting on my
discussion of the relation between intelligence and behavior, 1 he
writes "I have, myself, the feeling that we could very profitably
revive this meaning so as to distinguish between intelligence and
intellect; most of the modern mental tests are really intellect tests,
that is, tests of intellectual intelligence as distinguished from the
motor or skill intelligence tests which are applied to animals." It
was this bit of comment which occasioned the writing of this paper,
especially as there seems to be an ever-growing need of a criterion to
determine which is intellect and which is intelligence, the more so
because the two are regarded as correlative terms, which means that
what we hold about the one will affect our view of the other, as is
evidenced by the comparison of Lloyd Morgan 's and "Warren 's views.
If intellect refers to the conceptual, intelligent will involve the
merely perceptual ; and, if we take it that intelligence comprises all
performance acts, our distinction will be one between the motor
and sensory functions of man. In that case even a moron, inso-
much as he is able to assimilate knowledge, may be regarded as pos-
sessing intellect.
Probably every educated person employs the two words in
slightly different connections. A highly cultured person, like Car-
lyle or Emerson would, in all likelihood, not feel flattered to be re-
ferred to as very intelligent. To the man in the street such a recom-
mendation would no doubt appeal as an acceptable compliment. In-
telligence and intellect seem to be made of the same texture, but
differ in their degree of complexity. This distinction, however, is not
always recognized by psychologists. Thus, Thorndike in his Animal
Intelligence speaks of animal intellect 2 as evidently an interchange-
able mode of expression for animal intelligence, while most intelli-
gence testers, as Warren observes, are really occupying themselves,
to a considerable extent, with the problem of determining the intellect
of their examinees. Largely with this consideration in view, I have
iA. A. Roback, "Intelligence and Behavior," Psychol. Review, 1922,
VoL XXIX, p. 54ff.
2E. L. Thorndike, Animal Intelligence (1911), preface p. v. and Chapter
VII.
328 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
been impelled to call my own series of tests for superior adults
"mentality tests," and have explained elsewhere my reason for so
doing, viz., that "intelligence" has been used to "designate a much
more comprehensive state of affairs. Social tact and savoir faire,
as well as mechanical ingenuity and motor coordination, are all sub-
sumed under the general category of intelligence. It is obvious, how-
ever, that what we can concern ourselves with here is at most the
analysis of situations that are distinctly of a non-social and non-
mechanical sort. ' ' *
The distinction between intelligence and intellect is a very genu-
ine one, but it does not strike me that the essential difference lies in
the fact that the one characterizes motor skill or even mechanical in-
genuity and the other applies to abstract reasoning. To be sure, the
term animal intelligence was in vogue among animal psychologists for
a long time to designate the capacity for motor learning in infra-
human subjects, but in all such cases it is my belief that the aim of
the investigators was to prove that animals possessed mind, that they
were capable of understanding situations. Such was certainly true
of Romanes and Wesley Mills. The substitution of the term animal
behavior for animal intelligence was due in large part to the realiza-
tion that we are on slippery ground whenever the question of inter-
preting the mental state of an animal crops up. No assumptions are
necessary and one might add no general conclusions are forth-
coming on the basis of an animal-behavior psychology. Another
reason for the shift of terms is probably the desire to break down
the barrier between animal psychology and biology so that workers
in the two fields might carry on their pursuits on common ground.
Thorndike 's book under the title of Animal Intelligence, which came
out in 1911, was, it will be remembered, an amplification of his
monograph published in 1898, when the term behavior, used in con-
nection with animal reactions, was still waiting for Jennings, a biolo-
gist, to give it currency. Hence the somewhat conservative caption
to a book which really was an influential factor in modifying the
older views about animal intelligence.
The distinction then between intelligence and intellect does not
appear to be primarily one between motor capacity and the power
of abstraction. Intelligence is more inclusive than intellect, but, at
the same time, it is marked by a certain desultoriness. It may ap-
pear in detached form. This view does not necessarily argue for the
multimodality of intelligence. An individual may meet with success
in almost everything he undertakes to do and yet not be classed
*"Beport on the Roback Mentality Tests at Simmons College," Simmons
College Review, 1921, Vol. HI, p. 314.
INTELLIGENCE AND INTELLECT 329
with the intellectual. What is it then that gives one the stamp of in-
tellect? It is, to my mind, the concatenation of the most essential
intelligences into a systematic whole most essential for that pur-
pose, of course that constitutes the distinguishing feature of intel-
lect. This quality must not be confused with what has been called
creative intelligence, for a great artist or a great inventor is not nec-
essarily a man of great intellect, nor must the distinction be viewed,
in the light of Stern's proper dichotomy between genius and intel-
ligence. 4 That mental integrity constitutes a prime condition of in-
tellect is, to a large extent, recognized in popular parlance when we
speak of Aristotle being a great intellect, though an ordinary man
is said to possess intelligence. This usage is not a mere synecdoche,
but represents the deep-rooted conviction of educated people which
experience has taught them. Csesar was probably more intelligent
than Marcus Aurelius, but Marcus Aurelius was the greater intellect.
A man may get along with people, who nevertheless is unable to
understand them or appraise their merits and faults. Another may
not be so successful in his dealings with the world and yet have
a keen insight into affairs. The latter is the more intellectual. It
is he who not only grasps a situation, though not necessarily every
situation, but is also able to relate his experiences and observations
to one another so as to build up a Weltanschauung (which need not
be a system of philosophy) . Paradoxical as the statement may sound,
it is my belief that there are cases when one knows how things are
done without being able to do them himself. An intellectual man,
then, will not always be thought intelligent in the accepted sense of
the word, for his capacity will not comprise possibly the wide range
of activities covered by intelligence, but by way of compensation,
he has a great deal more to show in the upper levels of the narrower
range upper because the activities in that region presuppose a
knowledge of the more common activities. The intelligent man lives
in a shed extending over a vast area ; the man of intellect dwells in
a sky-scraper, communicating with every nook and corner of the
building and aware of every happening in his abode and its bearing
upon every other happening.
In short, the secret of intellect is coordination on a large scale.
Naturally, the experiences requisite for such an activity must be
plentiful, comprising not only one's own but those of many others.
For this reason erudition has been considered the basis of intellect,
and rightly so. The perfect type of coordination would involve
an acquaintance with all the facts in every conceivable department
of knowledge. The more data we have at our command in the most
* "W. Stern, Psycliological Methods of Testing Intelligence, p. 4.
330 JO URNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
diverse fields of human endeavor, covering the greatest period of
time, the more we approximate this ideal. It does not follow that
the professional philosopher is the man of intellect par excellence,
though his particular studies must surely provide him with the best
opportunity for such attainment. Herder, Schopenhauer, Carlyle,
and Renan, disparate as they all are from one another, seem to typify
the intellectual in modern times. In general one may say that the
romanticists have the advantage over the classicists in this regard be-
cause their scope extends over greater dimensions. The quality of
the coordination is probably superior in the latter, but as has al-
ready been intimated, no matter how careful we are with our selec-
tion, if the wherewithals are not within our reach, the choice of
the materials can not but be faulty.
The statement has been made above, and it accords with the re-
ceived view, that intelligence is a more comprehensive term than
intellect. But the subsequent discussion goes to show that this com-
prehensiveness relates to the situations to be met with by the individ-
ual. Now a great many of these situations are not taken into account
in the adjudication of intellect, but vastly more is included instead,
to wit, the experience of the race and its outstanding figures. The
man of intellect is not called upon to settle a strike, to repair a lock,
to act the affable host and the like ; his task is much more enormous,
for he deals with a vast body of complicated facts which he must
sift and colligate and reflect on.
After setting down the criterion of intellect and intelligence, we
have still to consider the constitutional difference between the two.
In the man of intellect there appears to be an urge towards systemati-
zation which, if not lacking, is at any rate not pronounced in the in-
telligent person, who, to be sure, may evince an ambitious spirit, may
even direct all his energies towards becoming a leader. In such an in-
dividual the "drive" towards his goal may be actually consummated,
but often the means employed, the very skill exercised, betrays the
want of mental integrity which is a proprium of intellect. The fact
that single-mindedness was not always a characteristic of intellectual
men Voltaire, for instance should not invalidate my thesis. As in
everything else, deviations from a standard are to be measured in
relation to the components which go to make up the criterion and
treated, moreover, on a comparative basis. The flaw in Voltaire's
character must indubitably have affected not only his results but his
coordinating ability as well.
A. A. ROBACK.
HARVARD UNIVERSITY.
BOOK REVIEWS 331
BOOK EEVIEWS
The Works of Aristotle Translated into English, Vol. X., Politica,
Oeconomica, Atheniensum Respublica. Oxford: Clarendon
Press, 1921.
This tenth volume of the great Oxford translation of Aristotle,
edited by W. D. Ross, must be welcomed by all students of Aristotle
and should be welcomed by all students of politics. The re-issuing
of the Jowett translation of the Politics is explained by the editor
as follows. "Piety towards Dr. Jowett, whose munificence has
made possible the production of this translation of Aristotle, sug-
gested that no new rendering of the Politics should be attempted."
Certainly no other English translation reads so well as Jowett 's,
but unfortunately the reader should be conscious that he is fre-
quently reading Jowett and not Aristotle. I give one illustration
of the liberties which Jowett took. The lines 1258 b, 8-11, trans-
lated literally, read about as follows: "We have discussed suffi-
ciently the science of the subject (business or finance), and ought
now to discuss its practise. In all such matters freedom reigns in
understanding them, but necessity in practising them." In Jow-
ett 's translation they read : ' ' Enough has been said about the theory
of wealth-getting; we will now proceed to the practical part. The
discussion of such matters is not unworthy of philosophy, but to be
engaged in them practically is illiberal and irksome." The editor,
in this case, has given in a footnote Bernays' translation: "We
are free to speculate about them, but in practise we are limited by
circumstances." This method of calling attention to improve-
ments in translation or to more recent scholarship on the texts is
followed throughout and is valuable. But the revision of the Jow-
ett translation thus effected is still quite inadequate. The Welldon
translation is superior in point of accuracy, but it too leaves much
to be desired. For instance, in Welldon the above passage reads:
"Having now sufficiently discussed the theory of Finance, we have
next to describe its practical application. It is to be observed how-
ever that in all such matters speculation is free, while in practise
there are limiting conditions." Welldon here corrects Jowett 's
error, but he introduces an error of his own in the first part of the
passage. There is still needed an English translation to equal the
French of St. Hilaire, which has the merits of both accuracy and
a fluent style.
E. S. Foster's translation of the Economics is a great improve-
ment over the old Walford translation in the Bohn Series, and
makes the treatise very attractive reading. It deserves to be much
more generally known than it is. The first book is generally re-
332 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
garded, following Zeller, as not genuine, although on rather slight
evidence. It is an excellent illustration of the "common-sense"
character of Aristotle's philosophy, consisting of observations on
how households are successfully conducted, observations so com-
monplace as to escape being written except by Aristotle or in prov-
erbs. One is interested to read in Aristotle, for example, that
"there are occasions when a master should rise while it is still
night; for this helps to make a man healthy and wealthy and wise."
The second book of the Economics is obviously post-Aristotelian,
and consists of a collection of most entertaining anecdotes about
royal, satrapic, political and personal economy.
Sir Frederic G. Kenyon's latest revision of his excellent trans-
lation of the Athenian Constitution needs no further comment, as
his work both as a translator and as an editor of the texts, is well
known.
The addition of copious footnotes and the careful indexing of
the books make this edition of Aristotle all the more attractive.
H. W. SCHNEIDER.
COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY.
Etude sur le Terme ATNAMI2 dans les Dialogues de Platon.
JOSEPH SOUILHE. Paris, 1919.
The aim of this modest and thorough piece of work is, first, to
help make precise the Platonic vocabulary and thus the Platonic
philosophy; second, to prepare a more complete knowledge of the
Aristotelian theory of potentiality (p. xi). To achieve this aim
M. Souilhe" follows the models of Hitter's " EISo? I8fo und ver-
wandte Woerte in den Schriften Platons" published in his Neue
Untersuchungen ueber Platon and of A. E. Taylor's "The words
e'So<?, tS^a in pre-Platonic literature" from the Varia Socratica.
Probably no model could be better for this sort of work than
Mr. Taylor's, especially if one is equipped with as sure a lexico-
graphical sense as his. For it emphasizes the actual use of the
words in question and not what people say the use is. Thus by
actual comparison and analysis one obtains not a mere unsubstan-
tial guess at what the Greeks may have been talking about, but a
careful determination made inductively with the evidence plainly
exhibited. Plato, in this case, is put in a Greek setting among his
fellow thinkers. To study him thus is surely to run less risk of
modernizing him, if nothing else, and that is of course one of the
easiest mistakes to make in interpreting the ancients. The result
incidentally throws light on the whole workings of the Greek scien-
tific mind, a field which lies outside M. Souilhe's immediate inter-
ests, unfortunately.
BOOK REVIEWS 333
The study begins with a resume of the primitive use of the word
and its derivatives. The texts here are taken from belles
lettres, from Homer to Demosthenes. It is found that it has four
senses: first, the primitive notion of physical force which de-
velops to any kind of superiority; second, the power of inanimate
things, money, sickness, law; third, by transferences to the things
which have the power and superiority, armies, governments, for-
tunes; fourth, reducing the idea of value, simple ability, posse not
potentia.
The use of a word in belles lettres is usually more indicative of
its connotation than its denotation. One would look in vain today
for the meaning of Royce's "loyalty," Dewey's "situation," San-
tayana's "essence," Watson's "behavior" in the speeches of Con-
gressmen, the poetry of the Imagists, or the dramas of Mr. Shaw.
But one might find there a certain haze of suggestiveness which might
be of interest. So in M. Souilhe's study these passages are utilized
as a simple background against which are thrown the words as used
by the mathematicians, the physicians, and the sophists.
Aui>a/u? in mathematics is found to mean "fundamental or dis-
tinctive property." Thus the tetrade is called the Svvafus of the
decade because the equilateral triangle which is used to represent
ten, the tetraktys, 1 is that from which the decade is developed. This
is a technical application of the popular meaning "superiority."
For, as in Aristotle, that which produces is superior to that which is
produced. Similarly the square of a number is the second power
(Suz/o/LM?), which looks as if the mathematicians had an eye for the
generative functions in the operations of their science (p. 29).
An analogous use of words is observable in the treatises on
medicine (p. 36). There substances are held to manifest themselves
by their qualities, hot, cold, bitter, salty, and the like. But the
cold differs from the hot, the moist from the dry, in the effects they
produce. Both the power substances have to make themselves mani-
fest and the power they have to act in characteristic ways are
Svvdneis. The body of texts cited by M. Souilhie from the physi-
cians shows how the term we have grown to look upon as almost
exclusively Aristotelian was in reality one of the scientific terms
of his contemporaries. "In the treatises of the Hippocratic Collec-
tion," says M. Souilhe, "in those above all wherein the influence
of the cosmological ideas of the first physicians 2 is particularly evi-
dent, the term Svvajjus designates the characteristic property of
bodies, the external and sensory side, that which permits us to
1 V. Bui-net's Early Greek Philosophy, 3d ed., p. 102.
2 In the Greek sense of the word I suppose.
334 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
determine and specify them. Thanks to the Swap?, the mysteri-
ous <f>v<ri<; t the substantial eZSo? or primordial element, makes itself
known, and makes itself known by its action. Starting from this
point we understand . . . how easy it was to establish a perfect
equation between <f>v<ri<i and Sin/a/**?" (p. 55f.). The same use of
the word is found in the fragments of Gorgias and Isocrates.
In Plato the word has more philosophic importance than else-
where, but here too it means that quality which beings have to re-
veal to us their peculiar constitution, shown in action or in being
acted upon (p. 149). This is the same as the Hippocratic use of
the term. But M. Souilh does not agree with Hitter that Plato
equates Swapis and ovaia (p. 156). Small though the detail may
be, it is what determines in large measure whether Plato's universe
is to be interpreted as a process or as something static. If one 'a
imagination is allowed to play on the various consequences, one
will see the importance of knowing just what Plato did mean, if
that be a possibility.
It seems a greater possibility now that we have studies of Plato 's
vocabulary which are being done by scholars with sufficient equip-
ment for the task. The study of M. Souilhe may be open to un-
favorable criticism in detail, but one would have to be very fussy
to accord it anything but praise as a whole. He seems to have ap-
proached the problem with as few preconceived ideas as possible
and to have spared no pains to investigate it with all thoroughness.
One could legitimately hope for a more extended discussion of the
results, particularly of their effect upon the interpretation, of
Plato's philosophy as a whole. That may of course be too much to
ask of a study which has purposely limited itself to a special phase
of a problem. It does not seem likely, however, that students of
Plato can afford to neglect this work, certainly not university stu-
dents.
GEORGE BOAS.
THE JOHNS HOPKINS UNIVERSITY.
JOURNALS AND NEW BOOKS
SCIENTIA. November, 1921. Euclidean Constructions (pp.
345-354) : H. P. HUDSON (Croydon, England). Illustrations of how
algebraic analysis can reveal what can and what can not be done with
ruler and compass. L'origine de la chaleur solaire (pp. 355-370) :
JEAN PERRIN (Paris). Admirable exposition of the interesting hy-
pothesis that in the process of forming heavier and heavier atoms
the mass of the sun is diminished, being partly converted into energy.
NOTES AND NEWS 335
This energy would suffice to keep up the present solar radiation for
several trillion years. Radioactivity is a secondary reverse process
of minor importance. A paper decidedly worth consulting. Le milieu
geographique et la race (pp. 371-380) : A. A. MENDES-CORREA
(Porto). Suggests the difficulty of proving specific cases of influence
exercised on racial characters by geographic environment, yet con-
cludes that environment must, nevertheless, be an important factor.
Buts et resultats coloniaux de la guerre mondiale. II. Les resultats
economico-juridiques (pp. 381-392) : G. MONDAINI (Borne). Empha-
sizes the reactionary character of many of the recent legal changes
in the status of colonies throughout the world and especially in the
Congo. L'auvremathematique de Klein (pp. 393-396) : F. ENRIQUES
(Bologna). A characterization of Klein's work in synthetic geome-
try, with reference to his preparing the way for Einstein. Reviews
of Scientific Books and Periodicals.
Baez, C. Eangel. Nuevas Orientaciones Cientificas. Caracas, Vene-
zuela : Tipografia Vargas. 1922. Pp.56.
Gentile, Giovanni. The Theory of Mind as Pure Act. Translated
from the third edition, with an introduction by H. Wildon Carr.
London : Macmillan & Co. 1922. Pp. xxvii -f 277.
Gilson, Etienne. La Philosophic au Moyen Age. Two volumes.
Paris: Payot & Cie. 1922. Pp. 160, 159.
Hall, Stanley. Senescence : The Last Half of Life. New York : D.
Appleton & Co. 1922. Pp. xxvii -f 518.
Lalo, Charles. Aristote. Paris: Paul Mellottee. Pp. 159. 2.50 fr.
Lalo, Charles. L 'Art et la Morale. Paris : Felix Alcan. 1922. Pp.
184. 7 fr.
Rogers, Arthur Kenyon. English and American Philosophy since
1800. New York : Macmillan Co. 1922. Pp. xiv + 468.
NOTES AND NEWS
AMERICAN PHILOSOPHICAL ASSOCIATION: WESTERN DIVISION
It will interest the members who could not be present at the
Lincoln Meeting, April 14th and 15th, to know that in addition to
holding the announced programme, ten names were added to the
roster of the Western Division, and the following actions were
taken: (1) that it is the wish of the Western Division that the first
Joint Meeting of the two divisions be held next December, in ac-
cordance with the expressed wish of the Eastern Division, and that,
if it be agreeable to the Eastern Division, it be held either in New
York City or vicinity; (2) that the December joint meeting of
336 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
1922 take the place of the Easter Meeting in 1923, subject to the ap-
proval of the officers-elect.
It will be remembered that a year ago, at the Chicago Meeting,
the Western Division proposed and the Eastern Division at its last
December Meeting concurred in the proposal that the first Joint
Meeting of the two divisions should be made the occasion of the de-
livery by John Dewey of the Paul Carus Lectures. At Lincoln the
question was raised whether there should be the usual programme
in addition to the Paul Carus Lectures, which might possibly occur
on Wednesday, Thursday and Friday of Christmas week. The gen-
eral opinion was that there should be such a programme, and it was
left to the two executive committees to decide whether it be a joint
programme, or two entirely independent programmes, or two pro-
grammes with alternating sessions so that all could attend both.
Further notice will be sent as soon as the plan is worked out.
Will the members of the Western Division permit the Secretary
to mention the importance of making this first Joint Meeting a com-
plete and, if possible, enthusiastic success? The idea suggested by
Mrs. Mary Hegeler Carus 's gift of a thousand dollars for the com-
ing series of Paul Cams Lectures, viz., the idea that it would be
desirable, if possible, to establish such an American Lectureship in
Philosophy on a permanent foundation, is in mind as we write ; an
enthusiastic appreciation of this idea, shown by a large attendance
and a cordial spirit at this first meeting, might help much toward
that very desirable end.
The executive committee elected for 1922-23 are: President,
E. L. Schaub; Vice-President, R. W. Sellars; Secretary-Treasurer,
G. A. Tawney; E. D. Starbuck, L. P. Brogan, A. W. Moore and
Rupert C. Lodge. It is hoped that reprints of the Lincoln address
of President E. S. Ames on "Religious Values" will be ready for
distribution soon. It will include a revised list of members.
Professor Dewey has not yet named the topic of his Paul Cams
Lectures, but he intimates that they will be a study of the various
critical approaches to Instrumentalism with a view to clarifying
the issues it raises. It is sure to be of immense interest.
G. A. TAWNEY.
UNIVERSITY or CINCINNATI.
Professor Pick, the well-known neurologist at Prague, is about
to retire from teaching and wants to sell his library. It contains
some 3,000 works on psychiatry, neurology and psychology in Eng-
lish, French and German, besides 7,000 reprints and theses. The
price is $4,000. Address Professor Arnold Pick, Jungmannstrasse,
26., Prague, Czechoslovakia.
VOL. XIX., No. 13 JUNE 22, 1922
THE JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
THE NEW MATERIALISM
ONE of the most characteristic phenomena of the very disinte-
grated thought of our time is the recrudescence of material-
ism. From Biichner's or at any rate from Tyndal's day to the end
of the nineteenth century materialism had suffered a fairly steady
loss in the confidence of the thinking world, so that twenty years
ago it seemed almost a dead issue in philosophy. Ernst Haeckel
was indeed still faithful to the lost cause; but even he, before his
death, gave it up in all its more extreme forms and went over to the
' ' double aspect theory. ' ' 1 But the sick man of philosophy, as
materialism might have been called a few years ago, has quite
recently taken on a new lease of life and has found a new circle of
able defenders.
The reason for the steady loss of credence which materialism
suffered toward the close of the last century was, as I think will be
generally acknowledged, not lack of interest in it nor any peculiar-
ity of the psychological atmosphere of the times nor a change in in-
tellectual taste, but just certain very definite logical considerations.
The materialistic doctrine had never been perfectly clear of itself
but wobbled between two forms, both of which had their very great
logical difficulties. One form of materialism identified conscious-
ness with matter or with brain energy, especially with motion; the
other asserted that consciousness, while not identical with the brain
or its activities, was always the result of these activities and never
itself a determinant either of action or even of the later stages of
its own series. Now as the nineteenth century grew older, the dif-
ficulties involved in both these doctrines became clearer until they
seemed at last quite fatal. The fir^t formulation of materialism in-
deed left consciousness efficient, but did so only by an identification
which was clearly seen to be nonsense if such a thing as nonsense
can be. We know what we mean by pains and pleasures, by
thoughts and purposes and desires; we know also, in a general way
at least, what we mean by brain cells and their real and possible
motions; and if we do not and can not know that these are differ-
ent it is hopeless that we should ever know anything. The diffi-
culties involved in the second formulation of materialism are peiv
i Cf. his Gott-Natur, Leipzig, 1914.
337
338 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
haps not so obvious, but to nearly all thinkers of twenty years
ago they seemed none the less fatal. These difficulties cropped
out in many forms, but all the more important ones were varia-
tions of the denial of efficiency to consciousness. For example, how
shall the materialist explain the development of consciousness, hav-
ing denied to it any influence upon the activities of the organism?
James's formulation of this question in his famous chapter on the
Automaton Theory has never been satisfactorily answered and
seemed in itself very nearly decisive. Equally ominous for ma-
terialism was the bearing of the asserted inefficiency of conscious-
ness on human reasoning processes. For materialism maintains
(as obviously it must) that each thought is determined wholly by
the preceding or accompanying brain states and not at all by the
preceding thoughts. This being the case, what we commonly refer
to as reasoned conclusions turn out not to be reasoned at all but
simply caused by the entirely non-logical mechanical laws of brain
activity. There can not, therefore, be any such thing as logical
necessity in any of our reasoning processes. The perception of
logical relations has nothing to do with them, nor has even the
recognition of rational probability; they are determined solely by
mechanical necessity. The materialist is plainly bound to maintain
this. He is still bound to maintain it when asked how he knows
his theory is true. To this question he can not reply that material-
ism is the logically necessary nor even the reasonably probable de-
duction from the facts, for the perception of logical connections
has nothing to do with guiding man's conscious processes. All he
can say is that the mechanical processes of his brain make him
think as he does, but that as for proving the truth of his or of any
other theory, that is a thing impossible for man.
Many other considerations of this sort might be pressed with
cumulative effect, as was realized by our predecessors ; and to them
they appeared decisive. In short the assertion to which material-
ism is necessarily committed that all the purposeful and intelligent
activities of the individual, the construction of civilization, of hu-
man literature, philosophy and science, the entire evolution of con-
scious beings, have been utterly unaffected by consciousness and are
merely the result of the laws of matter this assertion, once it was
fully grasped, seemed too preposterous for serious consideration.
Other theories of mind and body might have their difficulties; but
greater difficulties than these were hardly conceivable.
One further reason for the nineteenth century's definite rejec-
tion of materialism was to be found in the fact that the great motive
which had led to the popularizing of this doctrine, namely the de-
THE NEW MATERIALISM 339
sire to give naturalism full sway through all the world of matter
and energy was fully shared by parallelism; that parallelism, in
fact, was even more favorable to naturalism than was materialism
(in its second formulation), inasmuch as it retained the theory of
the conservation of energy quite intact. For these reasons the
great majority of the adherents of naturalism went over from ma-
terialism to parallelism. Toward the close of the century both
materialism and interaction seemed to be definitively abandoned,
and parallelism remained almost without rival in possession of the
field.
If the rise of parallelism in the last half of the nineteenth cen-
tury was in part the cause of the decline of materialism, the pres-
ent recrudescence of materialism is due in no small degree to the
notable decline in the popularity of parallelism. The fickleness of
Fortune has seldom been more tragically illustrated than in the
slump suffered by parallelism in the last few years. The causes of
this slump are to be found in the fact that once fully understood
parallelism is seen to have logical difficulties of its own so serious as
to be fatal ; but our interest in parallelism for the present is confined
to the effect which its decline has had in initiating a revival of ma-
terialism. For the naturalistic philosophers who could not feel
comfortable in the parallelist camp are now trooping back to their
old haunts and reviving their ancient loyalty. Most of them, to be
sure, are not as yet under the old flag nor do they use the old de-
signation; the majority call themselves behaviorists or neo-realists
or pragmatists or idealists. There are a few, however, who are
frank enough to hoist the old ensign and attempt a serious resus-
citation of materialism as such. Among the leaders of this move-
ment I shall mention only Professors Warren, Montague, and Sel-
lars. Professor Strong should certainly be added to this list
provided one could be sure that he is really a materialist and not
still in some sense a parallelist. If he belongs in the former cate-
gory his materialism rests upon an identification of psychic states
with material particles. This, so far as it goes, would of course be
open to the same objections as the first form of the old materialism.
Professor Strong seems at times to accept this identification and
to seek to make it more thinkable by distinguishing between the
psychical and the conscious. In addition to this distinction one
must keep in mind Professor Strong's fundamental doctrine that
introspection is always indirect and of the past. If one puts these
considerations together it follows that we are never directly con-
scious of our psychic states and hence that they may, for aught we
know, be identical with the brain. Yet I can not see that this
340 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
really avoids the old difficulty; for if psychic states are really
psychic it is hard to put any meaning into the assertion that they
are brain ; and if they are not really psychic the cognizing of them
must be, and the old difficulty will break out in a new place. Fur-
thermore, it is exceedingly difficult for me, at least, to see how
panpsychism (to which Professor Strong still clings) is to be made
consistent with his critical realism, or to understand how a psychic
state can be extended and possess really (not as mere appearance)
the various primary qualities. If it is by considerations such as
these that the ills of materialism are to be cured I fear the cure
will prove worse than the disease. However, I am not at all sure
that Professor Strong means this for materialism, for, as I have
said, he still clings (with modifications) to the panpsychic doctrine
of his former days; and the "brain" which we contemplate retro-
spectively when we introspect our (past) psychic states does not
seem to be the same "brain" which an outsider might examine with
eye and hand. I should not therefore feel justified in including him
among the new materialists, although many passages in The Origin
of Consciousness seem to indicate that he is one.
Nor is it strictly correct to classify Professor Warren as a ma-
terialist, for he still clings to the double-aspect theory of parallel-
ism. Yet much of his writing on the mind-body problem 2 is in de-
fense of the thesis that all man's activities are explicable on me-
chanical or (very likely) physico-chemical principles; so that in
effect if not in name he is a defender of the new materialism. The
form which this defensive argument assumes, however, is a little dif-
ficult to make out. It seems, taken in the large, to consist of two
closely related parts. In the first place it maintains that even the
most complex forms of thoughtful activity are built on the same
general plan as ordinary ideo-motor action, and that, inasmuch as
the latter can be fully explained mechanically, the highest forms
of intelligent conduct need no further explanation. The other form
of Professor Warren's argument consists in pointing us to a brain
correlate for every type of conscious process, including even the
most complicated and "intelligent."
As to the first of these arguments, it must be plain to all that
the similarity between ideo-motor and "intelligently guided" ac-
tion is accepted and demonstrable only so far as it is irrelevant to
the present issue; and that when the similarity is depicted in such
"The Mental and the Physical," Psy. Sev., March, 1914; "A Study of
Purpose," thia JOURNAL, Jan. and Feb., 1916; "The Mechanics of Intelli-
gence, ' ' Phil. Review, Nov., 1917 ; ' Mechanism vertu* Vitalism, ' ' Phil. Review,
Nov., 1918.
THE NEW MATERIALISM 341
terms as to make it relevant to the issue and decisive, the presenta-
tion of it as an actual fact begs the question. That there is a simi-
larity of a very general sort between all forms of bodily activity,
that they all have stimulus, central process, and response, will be de-
nied by no one ; but to assert in addition to this that increased neural
complexity is the only other factor involved in deliberately guided
voluntary action beside what one finds in automatic reaction is to
start with the conclusion which was to be proved. Professor War-
ren seeks to make the transition from automatic to intelligent ac-
tivity easier by using voluntary action in a purely perceptual situa-
tion as a middle term. In action of this sort the stimulus is an im-
mediately perceived object to which we react, as we do in thought-
less ideo-motor action. On the other hand even highly complex and
thoughtful activity such as chess-playing, which involves both in-
vention and intelligent adjustment to new situations, is analogous
to perceptual reaction. "An intelligent reaction based upon thought
is essentially the same as the reaction to a perceived situation. The
mental reconstruction is no different in character from the recon-
struction of experience which is involved in a changing perceptual
experience. . . . When one reacts to a perceptual stimulus one's
motor activity is due to the fact that a certain physical collocation
of particles exists and affects him; which means that his receptor
apparatus is fitted to receive the impression of this collocation and
that appropriate nervous pathways are established for reaction to
such impressions. The same is true where the stimulus is a thought-
complex; here one is reacting to certain definite represented physi-
cal collocations. Thought is merely an enlargement of the per-
ceptual field. Intelligence means 'fit' reaction to environmental
situations, whether perceived or pictured." 3
Now while both complex intelligent activity such as chess-play-
ing, and also ideo-motor action have doubtless certain things in
common with intelligent reaction to a perceived situation, it is plain
also that in certain things they differ from it. The opponent of
materialism, who believes in the efficacy of consciousness, maintains
that one of these differences lies exactly in this: that conscious
thought aids to some extent in guiding intelligent perceptual be-
havior, and that conscious thought and conscious representations of
merely possible situations which are never physically realized aid
still more in guiding the higher forms of activity such as chess.
Nor has Professor Warren said a single thing to disprove this view.
As I read it, at any rate, his attempted reduction of intelligent ac-
tivity to the type of ideo-motor action either reduces to a harmless
s "The Mechanics of Intelligence," p. 612.
342 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
pointing out of irrelevant similarities, or else reads into the com-
parison identities which he has done nothing to prove, and which
can not be admitted in advance without begging the question.
Professor Warren, however, seems to make his position more
persuasive by the aid of his second argument. He of course does
not deny that certain "higher" and more complex intellectual proc-
esses are involved in such things as chess-playing than in mere
ideo-motor action. But in all these the really efficient factor is the
brain aspect of the psychical process. It is the "neural processes
known introspectively as 'thoughts' of future situations" 4 which
really govern the movement of the chess pieces. Similarly "satis-
faction appears to be the subjective aspect of a neural condition
stimulated by systematic processes which are autonomically in-
duced." 5 "Conscious endeavor to deliberate is a [neural] set in
some direction." "Purpose" must not be taken to mean a con-
scious desire for a consciously conceived achievement but must be
interpreted in behavioristic, and ultimately in physiological terms. 8
When all conscious processes have been thus translated into neural
terms, the explanation of the most complex human conduct in purely
physico-chemical principles becomes relatively easy. "The com-
plexity of the thought process means that a large number of neural
connections within the brain are formed prior to each play. Intel-
ligence means, in neural terms, that the less satisfying plays find
no motor outgo that only one out of many incipient reactions is
completed. ' ' 7
It would be unjust, I think, to accuse Professor Warren of beg-
ging the question in this argument. One might indeed justifiably
do so if the argument be interpreted as an attempt to prove ma-
terialism. Plainly it proves materialism only on condition that we
admit the neural interpretation of intelligence to be the sole proper
interpretation ; only if we start with the conclusion that intelligence
as such has nothing to do with action. But as I understand Profes-
sor Warren, he does not mean to have his argument taken in so
ambitious a sense. He wishes merely to show us what the material-
istic hypothesis is, to show that it is possible to express human con-
duct in physico-chemical terms and that materialism is a perfectly
statable view, even in face of such seemingly intelligent action as
chess-playing.
If this is Professor Warren's point I think he has made it.
"The Mechanics of Intelligence," p. 613.
o Ibid., p. 618.
"A Study of Purpose," patsim; also "Mechanics vt. Vitalism," p. 611.
T "The Mechanics of Intelligence," p. 613.
THE NEW MATERIALISM 343
Materialism is a perfectly statable hypothesis. The question still
remains, Is it true? Is it or is the opposing hypothesis true? For
as Professor Warren recognizes, the anti-materialistic view of in-
telligent activity is also perfectly statable. We have, in short, on
our hanols the two opposing hypotheses that we have always had,
and the difficulties of each are exactly what they always were. The
trouble with Professor Warren's type of materialism has always
been that it denies the efficiency of consciousness and thereby gets
itself into all the tangle of difficulties faintly suggested in the be-
ginning of this paper. Nor can I see that Professor Warren has
done anything to avoid or to diminish those difficulties. In fact he
seems at times not even to realize what they are. At the close of
his paper on "The Mechanics of Intelligence" he deals briefly with
' ' the role of consciousness, ' ' and all he has to say as to the dangers
which materialism runs in denying to consciousness all real effi-
ciency is the following : ' ' However much my actions may be deter-
mined mechanistically or unconsciously or subconsciously, it is my
conscious experiences by perceptions, feelings, imaginings and
thoughts that mean life to me. The proved value of consciousness
is the subjective life which it furnishes to the mind." 8
It is of course plain that this response does not even come in
sight of the real difficulties involved in the denial of the efficiency
of consciousness difficulties which resulted in the almost universal
rejection of materialism twenty years ago. My conclusion, there-
fore, is that, so far as Professor Warren 's arguments are concerned,
the new materialism is in no better case than the old, and that, like
its predecessor, it demands of us an amount of credulity utterly un-
justifiable by any considerations it has to offer.
No one, I imagine, sees more plainly the difficulties we have just
been considering than Professor Montague. To him, as to most
anti-materialists, the efficiency of consciousness is so obvious that
it is futile to deny it. In fact his position has so much in common
with interaction that I should hesitate in calling it materialistic if
he did not name it so himself. But, in spite of his interactionist
tendencies, it is plain that he chose the right name. In his attempt,
then, to resuscitate materialism he takes quite a different tack from
that of Professor Warren. He goes back namely to something like
what I have called the first form of the older materialism which
identified consciousness with brain energy. His improvement upon
the older view consists in giving up the obviously absurd assertion
that consciousness is the motion of brain molecules and suggesting
instead that it may be some form of potential energy stored up in
a p. 620.
344 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
the brain, and presumably at the synapses. It was in this form that
Professor Montague first expressed his hypothesis in his paper,
"Are Mental Processes in Space T"' and in his contribution 10 to
the Essays Philosophical and Psychological in Honor of William
James, both published in 1908. The thought was carried farther,
with certain cpistemological modifications, in his essay on "Truth
and Error" in the New Realism (1912), in which he identified con-
sciousness with causality. More recently in his paper on "Variation,
Heredity, and Consciousness" 11 he has proposed a new analysis of
potential energy which in his opinion makes the identification of it
with consciousness the more acceptable. According to this most
recent suggestion, just as kinetic energy is motion, potential energy
is rest. A mass may move, and it also may stick to the same spot.
It may move fast and it may also stick fast. And as there are
many degrees of the fastness with which a thing may move, so there
may be many degrees of the fastness with which it may stick. For
this new concept of relative immovability, or negative energy, Pro-
fessor Montague proposes the new name anergy. His thesis now
takes the form of asserting that the anergy present at the synapses
of the brain is to be identified with consciousness. "When a vibra-
tion-wave proceeding over a sensory nerve is gradually brought to
a stop by the resistance of the synapse, its energy is transformed
from a visible kinetic form to an invisible and potential form. As
its velocity passes through the zero-phase, its slowness passes through
an infinity-phase. I ask you to entertain the suggestion that this
infinity -phase of slowness is the common stuff of all sensations and
that the critical points of zero and infinity through which the mo-
tion and slowness respectively pass afford the basis for that qualita-
tive absoluteness and discontinuity that differentiate sensations
from mere rates of change." 12
Professor Montague has been at great pains to build up a new
conception of potential energy and "anergy," and it is, I fear, a
little unkind and unfriendly to assert that in all this he has done
nothing to make the identification of consciousness with brain en-
ergy any. easier. Nevertheless, that is the conclusion to which I am
driven. It may perhaps be true that some of the difficulties which
the imagination feels in identifying consciousness with moving
molecules is avoided if instead we tuck it away quietly in the sy-
napses where it may be out of sight, and make it less obtrusive to
Moni*. XVIII, pp. 21-29.
10 ' ' Consciousness as a Form of Energy. ' '
>i Procecdinfft of the Arittotelian Society for 1990, pp. 13-50.
12 Op. cit., p. 42.
THE NEW MATERIALISM 345
the mind 's eye by keeping it very quiet at many degrees of motion-
lessness. But in the last analysis it is really as impossible to put
meaning into the assertion that consciousness is rest as into the as-
sertion that it is motion. Once and for all, by our psychic states
we mean one thing, and by the physical states of our brains we
mean another; and it makes no difference whether these latter be
interpreted as motion or as rest, as quantitative or qualitative, as
kinetic or potential, as energy or anergy. I hasten to point out
that Professor Montague foresaw just this criticism and has left
no stone unturned to find an answer to it. In the first place he
points out that his view of matter and of mind are very different
from that of Descartes; that matter should be conceived as posses-
sing the secondary as well as the primary qualities ; and that ' ' each
man feels his consciousness to pervade not only his body but the
outer space in which objects appear. " 13 If the limits of this article
permitted it would be possible to show that both of these assertions
would be very hard to prove, and a. theory which rested upon them
would be in much the same predicament as that of a house built
upon the sand. As to the latter assertion especially, one wonders
whether in Professor Montague's opinion the potential energy in
the synapses of my cortex, which is identical with my consciousness,
also "pervades the outer space in which objects appear." It is not
necessary for our present purposes, however, to go into these
matters; for even if we present Professor Montague with all the
secondary qualities he wishes for his material world and endow his
consciousness (and also his cortex) with the magical power of per-
vading all spa,ce, the identification of thought with brain energy
would still be as absurd as ever. All the secondary qualities and
all the pervasion of space imaginable will not help us in the least
to see how his thought of Julius Caesar can be a certain amount of
anergy in his frontal or occipital lobes. Professor Montague argues
that if we accept his non-Cartesian view of space and conscious-
ness, "then the change of the kinetic energy of the stimulus into
the potential energy of the sensation will not be a mysterious change
of sheer quantity into quality. ' ' 14 This may be admitted, and the
more willingly since it completely misses the point of the objection
and still fails to put any meaning into the identification of con-
sciousness with a "qualitative form of stress" in the brain synap-
ses. Nor does it help matters to identify consciousness, as Profes-
sor Montague proposes to do, with the "higher phases of intensive
energy. ' ' 15 Finally the series of analogies which are pointed out
is ' ' Consciousness as a Form of Energy, ' ' p. 120.
! Op. cit., p. 131.
is Op. cit., pp. 131-132; "Are Mental Processes in Space!" pp. 27-28.
310 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
in several of Professor Montague's articles between potential energy
and consciousness, while mildly interesting, are quite as unpersua-
sive and unimpressive as arguments from analogy usually prove.
And even were they immensely more striking than they are they
would do nothing toward overcoming the essential impossibility in-
volved in the materialistic position. The hopelessness of the under-
taking is seen even by materialists themselves that is, by those who
adhere to what I have called the second form of materialism. In
Professor Warren's words, "If Professor Montague believes that po-
tential energy is another name for consciousness that the two are
identical his assumption seems like identifying visual surface with
the mass which we lift." 16
The identification of consciousness with energy and the denial
of the efficiency of consciousness are the two horns of a dilemma
which has in the past regularly proved fatal for materialism.
Either one may be avoided but not both. The two defenders of the
new materialism whom we have thus far considered chose different
horns to be avoided. Each carefully evaded one of the horns, each
deliberately took his chance with the other, and each, as I have
tried to show, came to grief. The third and last advocate of the
old faith whose position we shall examine is more wary than his col-
leagues. He knows the dangerous nature of both horns of the di-
lemma and means to be transfixed by neither. In two articles and
in chapters of three books 17 Professor Sellers has sought to expound
a view which (though indeed he does not himself explicitly call it
materialism) is, in its defense of naturalism, essentially material-
istic; and yet at the same time he insists that consciousness is
neither to be identified with matter or brain energy, 18 nor to
be robbed of its efficiency. "Consciousness is not extended after
the manner of a physical thing for the very simple reason that it
is not a physical thing. " 19 " It is nonsense to say that the motion
of atoms is consciousness." 20 The function of consciousness "is
to aid in the bringing together of the parts [of a neural system]
into a new integration by the cues it affords. Literally it assists
the brain to solve problems." 21 "In deliberation we have a Con-
is "The Mental and the Physical," Pay. Eevvew, XXI, p. 83.
" Critical Realism, 1916 (Chapter IX) ; The Essential of Philosophy, 1917
(Chapter XXII); "An Approach to the Mind Body Problem," Phil. Bev. for
March, 1918; "Evolutionary Naturalism and the Mind Body Problem," Mo-
nitt for October, 1920; Evolutionary Naturalism, 1922 (Chapter XIV).
i Critica Realism, p. 223-24.
" Ibid., p. 244.
20 Essentials, p. 260.
" Approach to the Mind Body Problem," p. 158. See also pp. 157 and
159.
THE NEW MATERIALISM 347
scions process of survey, selection and combination. Ideas are led
to their consequences and judged by them. And our decision cer-
tainly takes the form of a plan which guides our behavior and with-
out which our actions would be quite different. ' ' 22
Professor Sellars believes that his doctrine is able to avoid the
two great difficulties of the older materialism (which we have been
discussing in this paper) and yet to maintain a strict naturalism;
and that it can do this by means of two advances which thought
has made in our century. One of these is a more adequate episte-
mology than was possessed by former defendants of materialism,
the other a new view of the nature of matter and its varied ' ' levels. ' '
Critical realism, in contrast both to naive realism, to neo-real-
ism, and to idealism, identifies consciousness with the whole field of
the individual's experience and at the same time insists upon the
reality and the knowability of the physical. Consciousness is that
which can be immediately experienced or rather it is immediate
experience; whereas the physical world is never directly intuited
(as naive realism believes) and yet (contrary to the assertion of
idealism) it can be indirectly known. 23 This physical world, more-
over, modern science seems to show, is not organized on simply one
plan, nor subject to merely one set of laws. "If evolution is more
than appearance, it surely implies a change in the mode of activity
of parts of nature. " 24 " It is no longer possible for a fair critic to
identify naturalism with the mechanical view of the world." 25
The new and true naturalism is, therefore, evolutionary natural-
ism. It must be remembered, however, that it is the material world
that is evolving, and that the new laws of action on its higher levels
are still the laws of the material world, nor can it be admitted by the
defender of evolutionary naturalism that on any of these levels any-
thing independent of the physical interferes with the regular physi-
cal activities. Anything like interaction between consciousness
and the brain is strongly repudiated. The physical world is a
closed system. 20 The laws of action of the lower material levels,
moreover, are not abrogated. The new categories which apply to
the new levels are continuous with the old ones and must not con-
22 Evolutionary Naturalism, p. 312. See also pp. 311 and 313. Cf. also
Critical Realism, 238, 249-50; "Evolutionary Naturalism" in the Monist, p. 590..
23 Critical Eealism, pp. 215-17, 247; "Approach," pp. 155-56. Ex. Natural-
ism, pp. 294-95, 303-05, 307, 310.
24 Crit. Realism, 235.
25 Ev. Nat., p. 19. See also pp. 292, 297, 302, all of Chapter I; in fat the
whole volume is devoted to this contention. See also "Approach," p. 159.
26 Ev. Nat., p. 314.
348 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
flict with them. 21 The old laws must be obeyed, the new ones being
apparently additive merely.
The question must of course immediately present itself to every
reader: Can this kind of modified naturalism be really compatible
with the efficiency of consciousness? Professor Sellars thinks that
it can be, if the true relation of consciousness to the brain be under-
stood. "My thesis is that the living organism, when properly and
adequately conceived, includes consciousness." 28 "When the cor-
tex functions, consciousness forms part of the nature of the
brain. ' ' * The brain has at least two ' ' variants, ' ' one of them
neural activity, the other conscious content. Consciousness is thus
a "variant" of the brain. 80 "Psychical entities are not substances,
but rather peculiar characteristics of neural wholes and insepar-
able from them. " S1 " Consciousness is the brain become con-
scious. " 82
This identification of consciousness with the brain does not,
in Professor Sellars 's opinion, involve the logical inconsistencies of
the older materialism; for "we do not mean that the same categor-
ies are applicable to the physical as known by the physical sciences
and to consciousness." "As classes thought about by scientists,
the physical and the psychical have contradictory attributes. This
must not be confused with the question whether the physical as an
existent can absorb consciousness." 38 In other words, Professor
Sellars does not identify consciousness as such with brain substance
or brain activity as such; but both consciousness and brain activity
are variants of one organism. He simply means that "conscious-
ness is not alien to the physical. ' ' 34 The brain thinks.
We may be able to go all this way with Professor Sellars and
still be unable to see any real answer to the question how natural-
ism is to be made compatible with the efficiency of consciousness.
Consciousness and the neural activity which controls our muscles
and our conduct may well be two "variants" of the organism; but
if this be proposed as an answer to our question, the old difficulty
2T" Approach," p. 154.
""Approach," p. 152.
2 Critical Bealism, p. 247. See also pp. 228-29, 231; Ev. Nat,, pp. 298,
308; Essential*, pp. 264-65.
so When we call it a variant of the brain we imply that it is inseparable
from the brain and penetrates it with right as a part of the reality of the
brain." Crit. Bealism, p. 244.
i Ev. Nat., pp. 316 and 317.
**Crit. Bealism, p. 245.
8 Ibid., pp. 228, 229.
Ibid., Chapter IX.
THE NEW MATERIALISM 349
breaks out again in the further question, What is the relation of
these two ''variants" to each other? The answer proposed by
parallelism, that they are two parallel aspects of one reality and
that they run along with no mutual influence, Professor Sellars ex-
plicitly and repeatedly rejects; 85 and he is, naturally, even more
determined in his opposition to interaction. 30 To be sure, "con-
sciousness literally assists the brain to meet new situations, ' ' 3T yet
consciousness and the brain never interact. Interaction would im-
ply, as Professor Sellars points out, some degree of independence
on the part of consciousness, at least while it lasts; and such inde-
pendence and interaction would be incompatible with naturalism.
It is, indeed, hard to see how the denial of interaction can be com-
patible with the view that consciousness "literally assists the
brain" and "guides behavior" so that without it "our actions
would be quite different." One way out of the difficulty and I
confess the only one I can think of is the way taken by Professor
Montague, namely that of restoring efficacy to consciousness by
making it a form of neural energy. Something like this view in-
deed Professor Sellars seems often to take. "Consciousness is ex-
istentially present to that part of the cortex which is functioning,
and the brain 's space is its space. ' ' 38 That is, it is in the brain,
as light is in the diamond or electricity in the wire. "There is no
valid reason to deny that consciousness is an extended manifold.
It arises in and is effective in the physical world. Its unity is that
of the integrative activity of the brain which it helps to direct.
Hence it is as extended as the brain is." 39 That Professor Sellars
at times seeks to solve the difficulty of the efficiency of conscious-
ness through the identification of consciousness with the activity
of the brain an identification which at other times he emphatically
denies is made more evident through his explicit identification of
the mind with the organization of the brain 40 and his occasional im-
plicit identification of conscious processes with mental processes.
Intelligent behavior is to be accounted for by nervous processes 41
since mind is a physical category. "Our view takes the sensori-
motor process as a unit and holds that cortical integration of which
consciousness is an element is always genetically continuous with a
Realism, p. 246; Essentials, pp. 257-58; "Approach," p. 157;
Ev. Nat., pp. 289-<95.
36 Essentials, pp. 254-57; Monist, pp. 569-75; Ev. Nat., 287-94.
^ Ev. Nat., p. 313.
38 Crit. Realism, p. 244.
39 Ibid., p. 247. Cf. also pp. 245-49.
Ibid., pp. 252-53. Ev. Nat., pp. 300-302, 315-16.
4i Ev. Nat., p. 300.
350 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
motor pattern of the brain. In other words, cortical integrations
arise in one system with motor tracts." 42 "Psychical entities are
peculiar characteristics of neural wholes and inseparable from them.
... As soon as they are conceived as more than contents, as more
than they themselves reveal, as f?oon as they are given by them-
selves power to do things, they become to the deceived thinker non-
physical and alien to physical reality." 48 "The brain as mind is
a more or less integrated system of propensities and interests which
respond to the situation in which the individual is placed. And
such interests must not be thought of as physiological in any sense
that excludes discriminative appreciation. They are neurological
systems whose urgencies are inclusive of mental contents. Con-
sciousness must be connected psychophysically with neural processes
of some reach. Attention itself can be understood only as a for-
ward movement or passage in which the cerebral activity makes its
path. What we must seek to do is to deepen our conception of the
brain as at once activity and content. It is sensori-motor, ideo-
motor; it is a stream of tendencies lit up by consciousness. The
brain is synthetic because it is active. It is a more or less unitary
process controlled by the neuronic system which is functionally
uppermost." 44
I can not say I am perfectly sure what these last quotations
mean. But this at least is plain to me : that if they offer a method
by which the universality of naturalism can be made compatible
with the efficiency of consciousness, this method consists exactly in
identifying the psychical with the physical. If this identification
is not intended by Professor Sellers I can not understand either
how he proposes to save the efficiency of consciousness or what it is
he means by interpreting propensities, interests, discriminative ap-
preciation and attention as neurological systems or forward move-
ments of cerebral activity.
In other words, I can not see that Professor Sellers has done
anything to help materialism out of its old dilemma of being forced
either to identify consciousness with the brain or to deny its ef-
ficacy. Neither of the advances he has made over his predecessors
of a former generation have really made the difficulty any less real.
Critical realism is of course compatible with materialism ; but it is
equally compatible with interaction. Nor does the existence of
"higher levels" of matter in the organic world give any real assist-
ance. For even on these higher levels, we are told, nothing can
Ibid., p. 314.
**Ev. Nat., p. 317.
Ibid., pp. 315-16.
REALISM WITHOUT MONISM OR DUALISM 351
conflict with the mechanical laws; and the new and higher laws of
these levels are also of course still physical. Neither the old laws
nor the new therefore can be interfered with or modified by con-
sciousness (unless consciousness itself be physical) without wreck-
ing naturalism and the whole materialistic scheme quite as dis-
asterously as interaction ever threatened to do. Professor Sellars
does not seem to realize that the ultimate difficulty of materialism
lies not in the kind of physical laws which it sets in absolute con-
trol of mind and of human behavior, but in setting any physical
laws in absolute control.
Other writers than those considered in this article might of
course be added to the list of neo-materialists. But the three we
have examined are typical in the sense that between them they seem
to exhaust the possibilities. Professor Warren avoids the absurdity
of identifying consciousness with brain but does so only by making
consciousness inefficient and thereby committing himself to conse-
quences that seem equally difficult of acceptance. Professor Monta-
gue clings to the efficiency of consciousness but only at the cost of
calling consciousness a form of neural energy. Professor Sellars is
unwilling to commit himself to either of these difficulties ; and ends
by falling a victim to both. My conclusion can only be that the
new materialism has failed to bring forth a single consideration
that makes the materialistic hypothesis really easier of acceptance
than it was at the time when nearly every thinker gave it up,
twenty years ago.
JAMES BISSETT PRATT.
WILLIAMS COLLEGE.
REALISM WITHOUT MONISM OR DUALISM II
A PREVIOUS paper discussed the nature of knowledge involving
JL\. past events. The paper tried to show that the object of knowl-
edge in such cases is a temporal sequence or continuum including
past-present-future. While this analysis may be taken on its own
merits or demerits, it was also indicated that its acceptance renders
unnecessary the epistemological machinery of psychical states pos-
sessed of so-called transcendent capacity. Mr. Lovejoy's discussion
in the Essays in Critical Realism considers, in addition, the case
of anticipatory thought, judgments involving expectation, forecasts,
prediction. He tries to show that in their case, at least, a mental
state must be admitted, a representation which is psychical in its
existence. He also questions the point in my own discussion (con-
tained in the Influence of Darwin, etc., in the essay on "The Experi-
352 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
mental Theory of Knowledge") which claims that such anticipatory
reference is involved in all knowledge.
In principle, the problem of anticipatory knowledge introduces
nothing not contained in the prior discussion where reference to the
future was shown to be involved in knowledge involving the past.
But a discussion of the problem, shifts somewhat the points of em-
phasis and it affords an opportunity to make explicit some of the
implications of the prior discussion, with reference especially to
the place of verification and of representation and ideas in a
naturalistic realism which involves neither monistic nor dualistic
realism. "We may first consider the nature of representation.
In any judgment concerning the future or the past, there is
something to which the name representation is appropriate. A pres-
ent stone stands for an animal living in the past, ashes, for a fire
that has died down, an odor for a flower still to be smelled, a sudden
oscillation of a needle for an event still to be discovered, and so on.
Now the piece of rock, the ashes, the odor, the oscillating needle
are first of all things present in experience on their own account,
or noncognitively ; then they may become implicated in a reflective
inquiry. We may ask what they stand for or indicate, what they give
witness to or are evidence of, or what they portend. In this situa-
tion and also when it is asserted that they mean or support a certain
conclusion, they acquire a representative capacity which they did
not inherently possess. The piece of rock is still a piece of rock but
it is taken, either hypothetically or categorically according to the
stage of reflection reached, as sign or evidence of something else, a
fossil. It exercises a representative function, although it is not in its
own existence a representation. Just so a poem may be not just en-
joyed, but used as evidence of being written by a particular author
or as an indication of a certain crisis in the life of its author; an
esthetic object in its first intention is not of this sort, but it becomes
such when and if it enters as a datum into a judgment about some-
thing else. Just so a board may become a sign, a column of mercury
an index of temperature, a spire of smoke a clew to fire, a stain the
evidence of some chemical reaction. There is a well-known rhetorical
device by which a function is transferred to a thing, and we call the
thing by the name of its function. Just so we call sounds or marks
on paper, words; or a stone, a fossil ; just so we may call things hav-
ing the representation function, representations. In the first case
we are not likely to forget that the term used implies a connection,
not a self-possessed quality. In the second case, we too easily forget
this fact and get into trouble.
REALISM WITHOUT MONISM OR DUALISM 353
/
This is stated somewhat dogmatically because an argument is not
at issue, but rather a recapitulation of a criticized position which it
is necessary to bear in mind if the force of the criticism is to be
estimated. It brings us to the question of "mediatism" and "im-
mediatism" in knowledge. 1
Mr. Lovejoy says that two opposing views of the knowledge situ-
ation may "be named 'immediatism' and 'mediatism.' According
to the former, whatever kind of entity be the object of knowledge,
that object must be actually given, must be itself the directly experi-
enced datum. According to the latter view, it is of the essence of
the cognitive process that it is mediate, the object being never reached
directly, and, so to say, where it lives, but always through some
essence or entity distinguished from it, though related to it in a
special way. " 2 To this statement he adds the acute remark that
both idealists and monistic realists are immediatists. He conducts
his discussion on the assumption that I am an immediatist in the sense
denned and as excluding all mediatism. Then he has no difficulties
in finding inconsistencies in my treatment. I should go further and
say that upon this assumption everything I have written about
knowledge is one huge inconsistency.
For, as the remarks about representation indicate, wherever in-
ference or reflection comes in (and I should not call anything knowl-
edge in a logical or intellectual sense unless it does come in), there
is, clearly, mediation of an object by some other entity which points
to or signifies or represents or gives witness to or evidence of. Never-
theless, thought or inference becomes knowledge in the complete
sense of the word only when the indication or signifying is borne
out, verified in something directly present, or immediately experi-
enced not immediately known. The object has to be "reached"
eventually in order to get verification or invalidation, and when so
reached, it is immediately present. Its cognitive status, however, is
mediated; that is, the object known fulfils some specific function
of representation or indication on the part of some other entity.
Short of verificatory objects directly present, we have not knowl-
edge, but inference whose content is hypothetical. The subject-
matter of inference is a candidate or claim to knowledge requiring
to have its value tested. The test is found in what is finally im-
mediately present, which has a meaning because of prior mediation
which it would not otherwise have.
There is, I think, nothing fundamentally new in this view, al-
though it goes contrary to the more usual belief that knowledge is
1 The immediacy of experience concerns one of the reserved questions.
2 P. 48 of Essays in Critical Bealism.
354 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
some kind of direct apprehension or perception of some thing or
event. There is a certain sense in which Mr. Lovejoy is much more
of an immediatist than I am. I mean that for him the psychical
representation is but an organ or extraneous means of grasping or
pointing to some entity immediately complete in itself as an object
of knowledge as was pointed out in the prior article dealing with
' ' knowledge of the past. ' ' While from my point of view the relation,
connection or mediation of one thing by another is an essential fea-
ture of the subject-matter of knowledge. The conception is not,
as was said, intrinsically novel. It is not inherently pragmatic.
It results from carrying over into the logical theory of knowledge,
the methods universally adopted at present by natural science, or
inquiry into natural events. It is as appropriate to this kind of
science as the assumption that the objects of knowledge are forms
or essences which must be directly inspected, was to the Aristotelian
science. The "pragmatic" feature comes in when it is noted that
experiment or action enters to make the connection between the
thing signifying and the thing signified so that inference may pass
from hypothesis to knowledge. It is then seen that some "conse-
quences, ' ' namely those of the experiment, are an integral part of the
completing or fulfilling or leading out of the "representation" into
final objects. 8 Thus we again arrive at a union of immediate and
mediate in knowledge, instead of their sharp distinction.
These considerations appear pertinent to a discussion of the
nature of intellectual anticipations, predictions, etc. In my essay
on the "Experimental Theory of Knowledge," I pointed out that
there is an internal complication in such cases ; on the one hand, there
is something indubitably present, say, smoke; on the other hand,
this is taken to mean something absent, say, fire. Yet it is not a
case of sheer absence, such as total ignorance would imply. The fire
is presented as absent, as intended. Its subsequent presence is re-
quired in order to fulfil the reference of the smoke. Mr. Lovejoy
says that this presented-as-absent is what epistemology has always
signified by "representation" (Essays p. 51). So far, so good,
bearing in mind what has been said about the meaning of representa-
tion. But Mr. Lovejoy introduces a further qualification. I had
said that in order to fulfil the meaning of what is given-as-present,
the given-as-absent must become present, and this involves an opera-
Confusion arises sometimes, I think, because Mr. James accepted an
"immediate" knowledge, "acquaintance," and applied the conception of transi-
tive leading only to "knowledge about." In the latter he did not emphasize
the experimental production of consequences, although he did not deny it.
Hence follows the importance of discriminating varieties of pragmatism in
discussing theories of knowledge.
355
tion which tries to bring the inferred fire into experience in the same
immediate way in which the smoke is present. Mr. Lovejoy denies
the need of any operation or act. He says that we may dream of
a windfall of fortune about which one can do nothing. Of course
one can, just as one may construct day-dreams without end. But
are these thoughts, in any cognitive sense, of the future, or are they
just fancies whose function so far as they have any is esthetic
enrichment of the present moment? He also denies the necessity
of an act to bring the meant object into actual experience on the
ground that the thing present, smoke, may merely remind us of a
past object; it may merely beget a reminiscence (p. 53). I should
not think of denying this fact. The claims of my theory begin
when we ask what is the cognitive status of this reminder or reminis-
cence. I may be reminded of something beautiful which I have read
in a poem. Does this make the reminder knowledge? Does it give
the smoke or the poem a place in some existential landscape ? Does
it even depend upon my being able to place the poem with respect
to its author, the book where I read it or the time when it was read ?
What my theory is after is precisely the differentia between a re-
minder or reminiscence which is esthetic and one which is cognitive
or a reminder of fact. My theory involves no slurring over of the
existence of reminders. It claims that when we take them as knowl-
edge we proceed to act upon them, and that the consequences of the
acting test the validity of the claim of a recollection to be true knowl-
edge. Mr. Lovejoy may hold that every dream and every reminder
is a case of knowledge. But I do not see how he can attribute the
implications of that doctrine to a theory which holds that some ex-
perienced objects are self-enclosed esthetically, and therefore lack
cognitive status. Moreover, his inference that my theory is false,
since we do not act upon a dream, may appear to some to throw doubt
upon the theory that a dream is a case of knowledge rather than upon
my theory.
In discussing my criticism of monistic realism, Mr. Lovejoy has
no difficulty in finding numerous passages which indicate that I
am not a monistic realist. Considering that I was criticizing monistic
realism for its monism, his discovery does not surprise me. The
converse discovery would have given me a shock. Mr. Lovejoy then
argues that if I am not a monistic realist I must be a dualistic one.
"That, then, is the alternative to which he [the present writer] is
limited either idealism or else dualism A concep-
tion of knowledge which should be at once realistic and monistic is
barred to him" (E. C. R., p. 62). Mr. Lovejoy appears fond of the
use of the principle of excluded middle. But this principle is two-
356 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
edged as well as sharp. Unless handled carefully, it cuts the fingers
of the one who uses it. We have already noted how Mr. Lovejoy
makes an exhaustive disjunction between the immediate and the medi-
ate in knowledge on the basis of which he convicts me of inconsis-
tency. We have also noted that the gist of my theory about the object
of knowledge is that it is mediate in one respect and immediate in
another, so that the alleged inconsistency is due to failure to grasp
the theory. Neither is the disjunction between monistic and dualis-
tic realism exhaustive. There remains pluralistic realism, which
is precisely the theory I have advanced. The things which are
taken as meaning or intending other things are indefinitely diversi-
fied, and so are the things meant. Smoke stands for fire, an odor
for a rose, different odors for many different things, mercury for
atmospheric pressure or heat, a stain for a biochemical process, and
so on ad infinitum. Things are things, not mental states. Hence the
realism. But the things are indefinitely many. Hence the pluralism.
It all hangs together with the hypothesis which has been outlined
concerning the nature of knowledge. 4
Mr. Lovejoy, however, has another shot in his locker. Since I
admit that in anticipatory inference in all reflection from my point
of view something is present-in-experience-as-absent and as-to
be-brought-into-presence-of-a-direct-kind, he holds that I have
admitted the psychical or mental as a term in the judging process,
and hence am committed to dualism. His dialectical argument in
support of this view appears to manifest another instance of addic-
tion to uncritical use of the principle of excluded middle. Present-as-
absent, or the presence of the absent, is an impossibility as regards
any physical thing. Hence there is an admission of a psychical en-
tity. For, he says, the adjectives mental and psychical as he uses
them "simply designate anything which is an undubitable bit of
experience, but [which] either can not be described in physical
terms or can not be located in the single objective or ' public ' spatial
system, free from self-contradictory attributes, to which the objects
dealt with by physical science belong" (E. C. R., p. 61).
This assumption of an exhaustive disjunction between the physi-
cal and psychical is significant. It disposes, by a single sweeping
gesture, of the growing number of persons, not pragmatists, who
* There is nothing original on my part in this view. It is held by some
whose realistic standing is probably less open to suspicion than is mine, Profes-
sor Woodbridge for example. See his ' ' Nature of Consciousness, ' ' this JOURNAL,
Vol. II, p. 119. He has drawn some inferences from this conception which I
have found myself unable to accept, and I have drawn some which I fear do
not command his assent. But I am glad to acknowledge indebtedness to him
for much clarification of my own thought on the subject.
357
hold that certain entities are neutral to the distinction of psychical
and physical. It asserts, by implication, that all meanings, relations,
activity systems, functions, affairs like mathematical entities,
like a constitution, a franchise, values, operations, concep-
tions, norms, etc., are psychical. Such a position is peculiarly
striking in the context of a volume which makes constant use
of the notion of essence. Mr. Lovejoy, himself, refers
on the very page from which the passage is quoted to "a. common
character or essence" found in the thing representing and the thing
represented.
From the standpoint of argument, I am entitled, I think, to leave
the matter here, till Mr. Lovejoy and his collaborators have wrestled
with the question of essence in its bearing upon the exhaustiveness
of the disjunction between the physical and the psychical, and till
many non-pragmatists have been disposed of. The situation certainly
puts the burden of proof upon Mr. Lovejoy. But it is better to take
advantage of this opportunity to make a brief restatement of my
own view as to the nature of "ideas" or the mental. Mr. Lovejoy
starts with a ready-made psychical existence which assumes the
function of reference or of signifying, and that the future thing
which is presented as absent is, itself, psychical, or if not in itself, at
least in its presence-as-absent. My hypothesis reverses the notion.
It starts with a thing, res, actualty present, smoke, rock, and with
the present fact that this something refers to something else of the
same order of existence as itself, a fire, or geologic animal. It bases
itself upon the undoubted occurrence of inference from one present
thing to another absent thing of the same non-psychical kind. It
thus avoids the breach of continuity, the dualism, involved in di-
viding existence into two orders, physical and psychical, which are
defined only by antithetical attributes, and of such a nature that
reference and intercourse between them is an affair totally unlike
any other known matter. It also has the advantage of starting
from a vera causa, the undubitable fact of inference. 5
According to hypothesis, then, the future thing meant is objec-
tive a fire, possibility of finding additional traces of extinct organ-
isms, a rain storm, penalization of certain modes of behavior, or an
eclipse of the sun. It is stood for or represented by something
equally objective, mathematical figures, words, heard or seen things,
etc. That one objective affair should have the power of standing
for, meaning, another is the wonder, a wonder which as I see it, is
to be accepted just as the occurrence in the world of any other quali-
s Essays in Experimental Logic, p. 225.
358 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
tative affair, the qualities of water, for example. 6 But a thing
which has or exercises the quality of being a surrogate of some ab-
sent thing is so distinctive, so unique, that it needs a distinctive
name. As exercising the function we mot/ caU it mental. Neither
the thing meant nor the thing signifying is mental. Nor is meaning
itself mental in any psychical, dualistic, existential sense. Tradi-
tional dualism takes the undoubted logical duality, or division of
labor, between data and meanings, and gets into the epistemological
predicament by transforming it into an existential dualism, a separa-
tion of two radically diverse orders of being. 7 Starting from the
undoubted existence of inference, or from a logical function, "ideas"
denote problematic objects so far as they are signified by present
things and are capable of logical manipulation. A probable rain
storm, as indicated to us by the look of the clouds or the barometer,
gets embodied in a word or some other present thing and hence can
be treated for certain purposes just as an actual rain storm would
be treated. We may then term it a mental entity. Such a theory, it
will be noted, explains the mental on the basis of a logical function.
It does not start by shoving something psychical under a logical
operation. 8
The matter is so important that perhaps it is worth while to
try to state it in another way. Meanings are the characteristic things
in intellectual experience. They are the heart of every logical func-
tion. They are not physical nor are they (pace Mr. Lovejoy's dis-
junction) psychical. 9 A meaning is not necessarily such that it can
be called an idea or thought. But a meaning may be adopted hypo-
thetically, as a basis for instituting inquiries, or as a point of depar-
ture in connection with other meanings for reasoning, an experiment
in combining meanings together to see what develops. Such a tenta-
tive acceptance of meanings is all that is possible in a problematic sit-
uation, unless we make either a dogmatic assertion or a dogmatic
denial. What is the meaning of some event ? What is it all about t
Something suggests itself as a possible answer or solution. It is as yet,
o That is to say, it is a metaphysical or cosmological or scientific question
as the case may be which effects all schools of epistemological thought alike.
It is not a problem which bears more heavily on one than on another, though
on the face of it there are more difficulties for a dualistic school than for
others because of the implied breach of continuity.
7 This point has been developed, not to say labored, in the essay entitled
"Data and Meanings" in the Essays in Experimental Logic, pp. 136-156.
See the essay on the "Logical Character of Ideas," pp. 220-229 of
E. E. L.
Of course upon my theory they are, existentially speaking, the operations
involved in any situation having cognitive reference.
REALISM WITHOUT MONISM OR DUALISM 359
however, only a possible, a conjectural meaning. How is it to pass
beyond conjecture and be definitely asserted or rejected? Inquiry
proceeds by taking a stand, as it were, upon the meaning and using
it as a base for new observations and reasonings. // so and so, then
so and so. We look to see if the "then so and so" can be actually
presented in experience. In the degree in which we can thus find
what is hypothetically demanded and can determine that only the
"if so and so" implies it, we make assertion categorical. Such is
the course of any legitimate reflection. But the operation demands
that the meaning be embodied in existence, that it be a "concretion
in discourse" to borrow Mr. Santayana's apt term. The usual
method is a word or diagram, but in any case, there must be some
physical thing to carry the meaning, if the latter is to be employed
for intellectual manipulation and experimentation, or as an effec-
tive hypothesis. The hypothetical meaning thus embodied consti-
tutes a thought or an idea, a representation.
This is the theory which I have put forth. 10 The theory is, of
course, conceivably incorrect. But if so, it is incorrect because of
matters of fact. It is not arbitrary nor paradoxical, and while it
is obviously inconsistent with presentative dualism or transcendent
immediatism it does not appear to be inconsistent with itself when
it is taken in its own terms.
I close with a general remark on the main point at issue, the
question of the method appropriate to investigation of the problem
of knowledge. This, rather than ' ' pragmatism, ' ' is the point at issue.
Professor Rogers, in his contribution to Essays in Critical Realism,
has stated the matter in such a way as to define the issue. He says
"that the quarrel between the critical realist and the pragmatist is
due, primarily, to the fact that they are not dealing with the same
problem. Professor Dewey 's concern is with the technique of the ac-
tual advance of knowledge in the concrete its linear dimension in re-
lation to other knowledge past and future, as this enters into the tex-
ture of conduct. The critical realist, on the contrary, is interested
in its dimension of depth its ability to present to man's mind a
faithful report of the true nature of the world in which he has to
act and live" (p. 160).
I am grateful to Professor Rogers for putting the case so clearly
from his point of view. It marks a genuine advance in fruitful
discussion. It gives me an opportunity to say that from my own
standpoint the quarrel is not due to the fact that we are discussing
different problems. We are discussing the same problem. The
" See, in addition to references already given, pp. 430-433 of Essays in
Experimental Logic.
360 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
difference concerns the method by which the problem is to be ap-
proached and dealt with. The objection is to the epistemological
method as distinct from a method which accepts logical procedure
as a fact and then tries to analyze it. My contention is that the
problem of a faithful report of the world in which we have to act
and live can be fruitfully approached only by means of an inquiry
into the concrete procedure by which actual knowledge is secured and
furthered. In most matters, we have painfully learned that the
way to arrive at a sound generalization is by examination and analy-
sis of specific, concrete cases. Why not apply this lesson of scientific
procedure to the problem of reaching a conception of knowledge, to
the problem of the nature of a faithful report of the world! If we
do enforce this lesson, the disjunction between the critical realist's
problem and the "pragmatist's" problem, as stated by Mr. Rogers,
vanishes.
What does "faithful" denote and signify? What does "report"
denote and signify? And, more important still, by what method
shall we seek an answer to these questions? Mr. Pratt in his contri-
bution quotes a saying of Mr. Santayana's that "an opinion is true
if what it is talking about is constituted as the opinion asserts it to
be constituted" (p. 99 of E. C. R.). With all my heart; assent can
not be too unqualified. But is the statement a solution or does it
contain the gist of a problem? What is an opinion, existentially
speaking, and what does it mean? And so of the terms "talking
about," "assert," and so of the connection between the talking about
and the "what" talked about, implied in the term "as." These are
things to be investigated if we are to reach a satisfactory conclusion
concerning the nature of a faithful report. And I see no way to
answer them except to adopt the same procedure which we employ
in investigating other subject-matters : analyze special cases of knowl-
edge secured and advanced, and generalize the outcome of the analy-
sis. My objection to the epistemological method is that it ignores
the only method which has proved fruitful in other cases of inquiry;
that it does so because it accepts, uncritically, an old and outworn
psychological tradition about psychical states, sensations and ideas, 11
and because, in so doing, it states the problem in a way which makes
it insoluble save by the introduction of a mysterious transcendence
plus a naive confidence in irresistible propensities and unescapable
assumptions. And when it comes to any particular case of alleged
knowledge we find the epistemologists abandoning their epistemo-
logical machinery and falling back upon the logical procedure ac-
See an article in this JOURNAL, Vol. XI, p. 505.
BOOK REVIEWS 361
tually employed in critical investigations which terminate in experi-
mental verifications. Why not begin, then, at this point ?
We are trying to know knowledge. The implication assuredly
is that there is knowledge. The procedure which I have tried to
follow, no matter with what obscurity and confusion, is to begin
with cases of knowledge and to analyze them to discover why and
how they are knowledges. If this procedure can be successfully
undertaken, then we can tell what knowledge is. What other
method is reasonable? We are trying, be it remembered, to know
knowledge, to get at and formulate its character. What is the
likelihood of success in the undertaking if we rule out specific cases
of knowledge and try to investigate knowledge at large ? If we have
no case of knowledge upon which to go, and upon which to
base judgments as to the value of a preferred knowledge of
knowledge, what meaning has the term knowledge? Why not
call it abracadabra, or splish-splosh, or anything else that
comes into your head? How does knowledge, at the best,
mean something different from poesy or fancy or dreams? For my
part if we wish to know what a faithful report of the world in which
we live means, I prefer to take the best authenticated cases of faith-
ful reports which are available, compare them with the sufficiently
numerous cases of reports ascertained to be unfaithful and doubtful,
and see what we find. Starting in this way, we have a method by
which we can also discriminate and identify poesy, reverie, dreams,
sensations, ideas, hypotheses, data, and all the rest of it. The prin-
ciple of parsimony has claims which all tell in behalf of the use of
the logical method.
JOHN DEWEY.
COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY.
BOOK REVIEWS
The Absolute Relations of Time and Space. ALFRED A. ROBB. Cam-
bridge University Press. 1921. Pp. viii + 80.
This little book is a simplified summary of the author's earlier
work, A Theory of Time and Space. It amounts, I should say, to
a restatement of the special theory of relativity, in which an at-
tempt is made, first, to avoid paradox as far as possible, and secondly,
to reduce all the geometrical concepts involved to a single undefined
relation. In the former respect, the success of the work may be
doubted ; in the latter respect its success is altogether brilliant.
Mr. Robb is one of those who has revolted against the notion that
what is the earlier of two events for one observer can be and not
362 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
merely seem to be the later of the two for another observer. This
seems to him to make the relation of before and after merely sub-
jective, whereas science requires that it be objective. The objection
appears to me to be unsound, for it leaves out of account the fact
that the difference in the temporal relations of the two observers is
supposed, according to the theory criticized, to have a perfectly def-
inite objective basis. And, on examination, the difference between
Einstein and our author shows itself to be merely verbal. All
the complexity of multitudinous time-systems which Einstein recog-
nizes appears again here under the veil of a new terminology.
Mr. Robb's starting-point is the assumption that for an event A
to be earlier than an event B, it must be possible for A to be among
the causal antecedents of B; that is to say, it must be possible for a
physical influence starting from A to reach the place of B not later
than B. If now we suppose that there is a maximum speed with
which energy can be transmitted the velocity of light and if we
compare events at two different points in space, there will be at
either point a time-interval within which the events will be neither
earlier nor later than a given instantaneous event at the other point.
As the distance increases, the time-interval increases also. The whole
period of the Great War may be neither earlier nor later than a
given event on Sirius. Contrariwise, as what we may call the "neu-
tral interval" varies, the distance must vary. Thus spatio-temporal
relations exhibit a sort of "conical order." Now it is only when,
according to Einstein, A precedes B in all time-systems, that, ac-
cording to Mr. Robb, A is said to precede B. Thus a certain amount
of paradox is avoided. But an equal paradox is substituted. We
are not to speak of the same instant as occurring throughout the
universe. Each instant is restricted to a certain point of space.
Is anything gained for science or common sense T
But if Mr. Robb's terminology is not less paradoxical than Ein-
stein 's, it is equally legitimate ; and it leads to the brilliant piece of
logical analysis which I have mentioned. The fact that each time-
interval is correlative with a certain distance enables Mr. Robb to
provide a set of definitions of geometrical concepts in terms of the
relations of before and after. In Mr. Robb's own words, "spatial
relations are to be regarded as the manifestation of the fact that the
elements of time form a system in conical order." It is not easy to
do justice to the ingenuity with which this analysis is conceived;
and it is safe to say that the subject is given a clearing-up which no
other mode of treatment could well surpass.
THEODORE DE LACUNA.
BRTN* MAWR COLLECT.
JOURNALS AND NEW BOOKS 363
JOURNALS AND NEW BOOKS
THE AMERICAN JOURNAL OF PSYCHOLOGY. January,
1922. Instinct and Value (pp. 1-18) : HENRY C. LiNK.-The mech-
anistic, pseudo-scientific and popular definitions of instinct are pre-
sented with the conclusion that as long as the present vague and
varied notions prevail, no definite conclusions can be drawn as to
their relation to value and that when instincts are defined more ac-
curately and carefully more accurate correlations between them
and values will be possible. The Psychology of Reflex Action (pp.
19-^12) : J. R. KANTOR.-Reflexes can best be understood when con-
sidered as psychological acts rather than physiological acts. This
gives them their place in the adaptations of the organism. Func-
tional Psychology and the Psychology of Act: II (pp. 43-83) : E.
B. TiTCHENER.-The discussion begins with an analysis of Brentano's
works and the criticisms of Meinong, Husserl and Miinsterberg.
They agree that consciousness is "intentional." This intentional
psychology is closely affiliated to philosophy and education. Af-
firmation and Negation (pp. 84-96) : C. H. GRiFrrrs.-This experi-
mental study shows that affirmative instructions can be more easily
and quickly followed. This indicates that negation is a different
neurological process from affirmation. Comparative Cognitive Re-
action-Time with Lights of Different Spectral Character and at Dif-
ferent Intensities of Illumination (pp. 97-112) : MARTHA ELLIOTT.-
Reaction times vary directly with intensity with maximum effi-
ciency between 10 foot-candles and 20 foot-candles. The Miracle
Man of NeuT Orleans (pp. 113-120) : JOHN M. FLETCHER.-This
miracle man attracted great crowds but the public soon lost confi-
dence in his ability. In the realm of mental diseases indefensible
practices such as represented in this case still flourish. An Experi-
mental Study of the Perception of Oiliness (pp. 121-127) : LILLIAN
WEST COBBEY AND ALICE HELEN SuLLivAN.-Oiliness is a fusion of
warmth and light pressure. Minor Studies from the Psychological
Laboratory of Cornell University. LV. Cutaneous Localization and
the "Attribute of Order" (pp. 128-134) : H. M. LuFKiN.-The
study suggests that localization is in general a matter of perception
rather than sensation. LVI. On the Non-Visual Perception of the
Length of Vertically Whipped Rods (pp. 135-139) : ERNA SHULTS.-
The perception of length depends upon the relative intensity of
two opposed pressure experiences in the hand. LVII. On the
Non-Visual perception of the Length of Horizontally Whipped Rods
(pp. 139-144) : A. S. BAKER.-The perception of the length hori-
zontally whipped rods is more accurate than that for vertically
whipped rods. This perception depends on the experience of op-
364 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
posed pressures. Reviews of Books. Oswald Kuelpe, Vorlesungen
iiber Psychologic: R. M. OGDEN. Charles Baudouin, Suggestion
and Aiitfisiujui'stidn: MARGARET FLOY WASHBURN. Wilhelm
\Vuiidt, Elcintnts of Folk Psychology: E. B. T. Wesley Raymond
Wells, The Biological Foundations of Belief: L. B. HOISINGTON.
L. A. Averill, Psychology for Normal Schools: H. G. BISHOP. Notes.
Benno Erdmann : RAYMOND DODGE. Festschrift for Carl Sturapf :
E. B. T. The Edinburgh Meeting of the British Association. H.
S. LANGPELD.
Sortais, Gaston. La Philosophic moderne depuis Bacon jusqu'a
Leibniz. Vol. II. Paris : P. Lethielleux. 1922. Pp. 584. 20 f r.
Poyer, Georges. Les Problemes generaux de 1'Heredite psycholo-
gique. Paris: Felix Alcan. 1921. Pp. 302. 15 fr.
Baudin, E. Psychologic. Third edition. Paris: J. de Gigord.
1921. Pp. 630.
NOTES AND NEWS
A correspondent has sent us the following questions, which
formed part of an examination given in 1893 to prospective teachers
of Ohio :
1. Name the three primary divisions of the mind and give an
outline (divisions and subdivisions) of the first division.
2. Distinguish between soul and spirit and show how the former
controls, influences, and wields the body.
3. What is consciousness? Show in how many ways it is ex-
ercised.
Dr. Charles E. Cory has been promoted from associate professor
to professor of philosophy at Washington University, St. Louis.
VOL. XIX., No. 14 JULY 6, 1922
THE JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
THE DICHOTOMY OF NATURE
ONE of the oldest ways of construing the universe is to see it
made up by pairs of opposites. Matter and motion, good and
evil, art and science, structure and function, life and the non-living,
are obvious couples of this sort; the list can be extended almost in-
definitely without going far from common sense. If it is the custom
of modern philosophy to make little of these dualities, let us remem-
ber that years of epistemological controversy, training the devotee
to the very pink of specialization and sophistication, have doubtless
atrophied the power of seeing the obvious or of appreciating the sig-
nificant. Philosophers of the past, indeed, have noted them often
enough. The Pythagoreans are said to have arranged the universe
on such a pattern, and Heraclitus found in opposition the genesis
of reality. Plato's fundamental dualism, and the Aristotelian act
and potency, applied unwaveringly by the scholastics, continued
the tradition. In the coincidentia oppositorum of Nicolaus Cusanus,
the old tendency reappears, and in the first period of modern philoso-
phy the duality of mind-body was the bone of contention. Unfor-
tunately, the philosopher's attention was soon turned into the
narrow channel of the problem of knowledge and the study of
reality languished. But eventually Hegel, whose merit lay in his
profoundly objective interest, brought philosophy back to the normal
point of view by presenting a map of the universe built out of pairs
in an ascending scale. Yet because he made certain mistakes in his
classification, his successors have tended to view askance the two-
fold habit of nature which he dwelt upon ; whereby they have lost a
deal of empirical truth. At any rate, it seems clear that this trait of
reality, so frequently noticed, so ubiquitous, so momentous in human
concerns, is likely to possess high metaphysical significance. Let
us then set forth a list of the pairs which we find in the universe, and
examine their meaning and connections. We shall find that they
display a striking unity of plan, and one which, I venture to think,
furnishes the key to some old mysteries.
We begin with a few cautions. The categories that follow are to
be taken as matrices rather than polished gems ; thought may carve
them into sharp-edged concepts, yet in reality a category is (to vary
the figure) a bright spot with luminous rays extending to other
365
:>,,<, JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
bright spots, though not equally in all directions, and perhaps in
some falling quite short. It need not be cut off clean from the rest,
to be real for itself. Nor shall we proceed at once to the other ex-
treme and declare that all categories are but abstractions from a con-
tinuous manifold. If they are in any sense abstract, it is nature and
not man that does the abstracting; at least in many cases we shall
find this to be so. And we use "category" here in a very general sense,
to mean a habit of nature frequent enough to seem metaphysically im-
portant. We do not refuse, as Mr. Alexander does, to call quality
a category. Technical accuracy, requisite indeed for some purposes,
is not our present aim. One can point out a tree in the landscape,
and discourse truthfully and significantly about it, without rule or
compass; and perhaps the same is true, mutatis mutandis, of meta-
physical discourse. And finally, it is perhaps well to say that we are
not attempting to deduce the categories from some beginning ; we do
but expound a plan which nature seems to offer, and of which we
are the passive spectators.
The first pair is that of things and relations between them. We
place it first because this is the simplest, vaguest, and widest-spread
of reality's characters. To the awakening consciousness, it may well
have been the earliest datum, even though then meaning hardly more
than vague shocks or bumps and the distinction of them. At any
rate, many separate beings are presented that is the first object
upon which thought can exercise itself. But we are not now con-
cerned with genetic order; rather with the objective and primarily
the material world. Early man was doubtless more aware of such a
datum at night; for at night he had opportunity to contemplate,
and he saw the manifold of lights arranged in the heavens. But by
day the same couple was offered to him by impinging objects, by
the resistance or non-resistance of the environment. Nor have we
of to-day been able to do without these categories, though reflection
has taught us to call them, in the conceptual domain, term and
relation, and in the physical universe, real substantial things or
material objects and their arrangements. For the category of sub-
stance is embedded in this category of real things; objects in the
external world come to us as real in and for themselves, present
actualities with a subsistence of their own here and now, no matter
what may appear at some later time. We may have to revise our
interpretation of them, but the revision must be fair to the present
appearance; this appearance has a natural right, as every
man has a natural right to live. It may turn out to
be illusory so we later learn but illusions have objective
grounds. There is something out there; there are many
somethings, indeed, and they are in some sort of order. They have a
THE DICHOTOMY OF NATURE 367
solidity and a fastness which we designate by the word substance.
Substance connotes that self-sufficiency and stability which is the
essence of being. Man's primary discovery is that there are sub-
stances or beings and that they have relations. These two are the
fixed hooks on which all subsequent information is hung; meta-
physics starts from them and returns to them.
Of this primitive and ultimate pair, the first was more emphasized
in olden time, while the second is having its turn to-day, and some-
what to the exclusion of its mate. The turn came to self-conscious-
ness in E. Cassirer's Substanz-theorie und Funktwns-theorie; but
that side of the wheel has been long in view. Modern philosophy
began with the two Cartesian substances, but matter at once evapo-
rated into space, and mind was hardly more than thoughts. With
Spinoza, substance retired into the infinite distance; in Leibniz, it
was replaced by force. If Locke still dallied with common sense,
Hume offended it beyond possible reconciliation by his reduction
of matter to its effect upon mind, and of mind to a series of ideas.
For some centuries now, mathematics has been the philosophic ideal,
and mathematics knows no substance. To-day, the mathematical ap-
proach to the philosophy of nature has usurped the place of favor,
and none may enter the field who can not say much in symbolic form.
But even among the non-mathematical, is not the relational bias evi-
dent? The pragmatic tendency is to define things by their con-
sequences, to interpret all by the context, to deny self-sufficiency
everywhere. The Bergsonian system views the temporal relation as
the very stuff of life. The speculative idealist finds the pathway
to reality in the interdependence of all things, rather than in the
things themselves; finite personality, soul-substance, and material
stuff live only in their mutual connections and relations. And is
it not the relations between men, rather than the individual man,
that command our attention in what is called the "social problem"!
We no longer think of the individual as a character existing in and
for himself, but as one having his whole being in the relations he
bears towards his fellows. Our modern philosophy and our modern
way of thought, whether monism, or pragmatism, or intuitionism, is
always relationism.
But a relation without terms is meaningless; and a philosophy
which has forgotten the category of substance can not, in the end,
give an intelligent account of reality. However refined its analyses,
however imposing its array of proofs and its logical technique, it
becomes no more than a science of the possible, a formalism dis-
sociated from the real world. In spite of our respect for their logical
attainments, it is hard for us to repress the feeling that the work
368 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
of Messrs. Russell, Whitehead, Broad and Alexander commits the old
fallacy of deriving the individual from the universal, real things from
their connections, matter from the union of space and time, terms
from their relations. We suspect that under these leaders philosophy
is in danger of becoming a sophisticated cult, and that we must go
about on the other tack, paying respect to the empirical deliver-
ances of science, to the kinds of substance it shows us, to the structure
of the atom, the constitution of the cell, and the order of the sidereal
system. For science deals first and last with real and separate things,
with electrons which have permanent volumes, and mechanical masses
that resist impact. If some of these were destroyed, presumably
the others would remain ; even though their behavior might be
altered, their reality would be undiminished, and thereby their sub-
stantiality vindicated. Philosophy, after all, can not afford to cut
itself quite loose from common sense. Common sense is not a suffi-
cient condition of philosophy, but it is a necessary one. The states-
man, however far-seeing his vision, can not well neglect public opin-
ion, though public opinion is far from being a sufficient guide ; and
philosophy, likewise, must defer to the common belief in substances.
Herein we have something to learn from the scholastics, who were
able to combine extreme nicety of definition with regard for the
categories of the practical man these being the categories of com-
mon sense. We must frankly acknowledge that not even the most im-
pressive massing of scientific technicalities, or the most brilliant
literary style, can make motion without things that move, or time
without things that change, any less meaningless than they ever were.
Indeed, the modern preference for relation over substance would
hardly have become so influential, were it not for our dislike of any-
thing hidden. We wish all reality to be laid out in the open, in this
age of publicity; whereas a substance is full of potencies not yet
revealed, and contains reserves and private property not sharable.
But here, too, we take leave alike of common sense and of scientific
practise, since we have to admit the hidden and latent in persons,
and since science can not do without potential energy.
Substances and relations are themselves given as many. In fact,
each of these two is found to contain a dichotomy ; for each contains
two chief divisions, and each of these again two, and so on. This
description, we shall immediately try to show, holds of our world
as now presented to us; but also it may be sound chronology. It
seems not unlikely that the physical universe began thus. Scientists
have pictured a vague nebula with lumps, hardening into bodies with
empty space between them, and eventually providing the present
manifold universe. Always, to be sure, there were substance and
THE DICHOTOMY OF NATURE 369
relations, spatial and temporal, as well as some degree of differentia-
tion in the nebulous mass. A quite undifferentiated unity we are not
asked to accept. Being must, apparently, have started (if it ever
did start) with something of the duality of thing and relation. But
our present purpose is not chronological ; we wish rather to set forth
the present dichotomy of nature, without regard to its genesis.
And we find it to be of the following Porphyroid character, which
we first state roughly and then go on to examine in more detail.
Relations comprise two sorts, space and time ; space comprises quali-
ties and quantities. Out of the material thus provided we discover
by analysis, identity and diversity, individual and class, ordinal and
cardinal number, intensive and extensive quantity, velocity and mass,
and endless derivatives of these; and in another aspect, act and po-
tency, cause and chance. These categories make up the main tale
of the formal side of the world. They constitute the subject-matter
(not, properly speaking, the object-matter) of science. The object-
matter, which our modern philosophy has all but overlooked, is found
in the dichotomy of the other initial category, thing or substance.
Things are found to comprise two sorts, living and non-living. The
latter group contains mechanical and electrical phenomena, and elec-
trical phenomena are of two kinds, positive and negative. Living
beings, taken en masse, are either plant or animal ; plants are divided
into two great lines, the green plants and the bacteria, while animal
evolution culminates in the two main divisions of arthropod and
vertebrate. In the former division, as Bergson and others have
pointed out, instinct is the chief guide of behavior; in the latter,
intelligence. Herewith we are introduced to the fundamental cleav-
age of mind and body, and a long chain of couples in the region of
mind fact and value, theory and practise, . art and science, and so
on. On the other hand, if we consider the individual living being,
we find the primary distinction within the cell, of nucleus and cyto-
plasm; reproduction by the process of bipartition; and early in
the history of the metazoa and metaphyta, the distinction of sex
a distinction which in the highest vertebrate has become so significant
as to color almost the whole of his life. Let this statement, rough
as it is, and even inaccurate in certain details, suffice as an indication
of our plan.
Now, of course, the universe may be classified from many points
of view ; and superficially one way may seem as good as another. Yet
on the whole, the dichotomic plan can hardly be called arbitrary.
The distinctions are in many, if not all, cases easy and objective;
they are also fundamental, and have been reached or confirmed by
centuries of scientific inquiry. Some there are who declare that the
370 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
scheme is anthropomorphic, due perhaps to the unsuspected influence
of man's bilateral symmetry, or even his interest in sex; but it is
not likely that the distinction between positive and negative electric-
ity, or between time and space, or animals and plants, or nucleus and
cytoplasm, has such an origin. Nothing is more objective than these ;
they are clearly distinct and they clearly belong together. It may
be that the couples in the field of mind art and science, value and
fact, good and bad, etc. have a subjective source in man's bilateral
symmetry ; even so, this symmetry is a physical fact, common to vast
numbers of organisms and deserving a place with other fundamental
dualities. We propose, then, to follow the clew, studying in turn
the couples above named, and their logical relations in structure and
function.
And first, how are substance and relation related ? In three ways :
they are complementary, i.e., they hang together in a certain way,
they are opposites, and they form an asymmetrical pair.
Substance means a solid real thing which impresses us; of the
senses, it is most clearly given to touch. Touch is, of all our experi-
ences, the special witness of reality, as when we test an hallucination
by prodding it. The scientist, treating inertia as matter's funda-
mental attribute, takes his cue from touch, since touch is the sense
of resistance, which is all that inertia means. But form and arrange-
ment, while real enough, are more subject to illusion and less authori-
tative in their own right. Eye and ear, the organs devoted to these
categories, are not the last court of appeal like touch, and correspond-
ingly, substance has more of reality about it than relation. Sub-
stance is in this manner prior to form. If neither has much meaning
without the other, that fact is not true of each in the same sense or
degree. While we know no substance, perhaps, that is not in a mani-
fold, such a thing is conceivable. We may imagine one bright star
in a dark space as the sole content of the visual field ; a term with
almost no relation, or with relation only of distinction from the
nothingness about it. But we can hardly conceive a relation without
terms : that, indeed, seems, as noted above, a true case of what ideal-
ists call a vicious abstraction. If, then, relation and terms hang to-
gether, the latter do more of the supporting; and the mistake of
idealists has been to be so prepossessed with the connection of these
as to overlook their difference. The relation between them is not
the same in its two directions; they are an asymmetrical couple.
And we might have seen this by analysis, also. Relation is but carry-
ing away from the present real thing to another, and you can not
carry without a burden; which burden here is being. But thing or
substance is, as immediate experience, to a degree self-contained, and
THE DICHOTOMY OF NATURE 371
needs nothing to support it. Thus, relations need terms, and imply
them, while a term makes relation possible but does not absolutely
imply it. "We may add that the notion of a relationless term has
hovered over the philosophic arena ever since Parmenides; notably
in the Thomistic God and the idealistic Absolute, to say nothing in
detail of the mystics.
But the two prime categories are also opposites. Relation, in
the most general meaning, is opposed to thing, because it carries us
away to another, as motion is the opposite of rest. But it is not
opposed in the contradictory way ; this transition is not a denial but
an ignoring. It is like attention, which, selecting one and rejecting
another, negates without denying that other; there is no contra-
diction in the process. Indeed, to negate one thing without denying
it, is to present another. Otherness is the original of negation, while
contradiction is negation perverted and sinful. And so relation is
that sort of negation which does not transgress the law of contradic-
tion. If a substantial thing is position without contradiction, rela-
tion is opposition without contradiction.
Thus far, then, we have substance and relation, and the connec-
tion between them, which is that (1) they hang together in a rather
free way, (2) one is prior to the other, and (3) they are non-con-
tradictory opposites.
The second member, relation, is a very vague affair. As man
becomes acquainted with his external world, two kinds of relation
disengage themselves ; relations of co-existence and sequence. These
are given to sense, though not to the same sense. Space is given
chiefly to vision, as substance to touch, and time preeminently to
hearing. For vision is not directly, though it is indirectly, of bodies
or resisting things; touch has spatial qualities, as bodies are in
space, but vision is concerned primarily with extended things.
Touch is also, in a way, intenser than vision, as substance is more
real than relation. Vision, even of the most violent sort, as of the
sun, does not shock the organism to the degree of the gentlest blow.
It is impossible to see objects without seeing them extended or seeing
some distance between them. And though we see processes and
thereby time, we may also see a still panorama, which, for a few
seconds at least, gives to vision no inkling of temporal quality. Hear-
ing, however, is never without that quality ; as it gives no spread-out
content which so absorbs attention as to exclude the awareness of
change. There is more discreteness in hearing than in vision, and
discreteness, as we shall see, is a peculiarity of time. We are here
talking of objective space and time which science uses, mathematics
analyzes, and man more or less perfectly apprehends in vision and
372 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOI'Il Y
hearing. We neglect the distinctions between conceptual, percep-
tual, visual and tactual space, and between perceived, remembered
and scientific time.
Space and time hang together. Most of the real things in our
material world are in motion; substances occupy space and change
their occupation in time. So we are accustomed to say that each
category involves the other. But if no more be said, the account is
misleading. They involve each other in different ways, and the im-
plication is not always binding in the same degree. Time might occur
in a single substance as if a star, with no fellows, might go through
a change of color. Space is here involved, yet not in the sense of a
positive condition with properties of its own positions, distances,
etc. Various real things must be given to afford such space; and
time alone, of itself, does not imply such variety of coexistence.
Time no more involves coexistence than one real thing involves
others. Thereby time is more like its father, substance, whereas
space will be seen more to resemble its mother, relation. There is a
certain possibility of independence about time; though this is not
actual, for really the world is a manifold. That being so, we find
the two interwoven. Yet there is a difference ; time is nothing with-
out events or change, as a relation is nothing without terms; and
therefore there is no empty time. Time is relative to events, or con-
tents, and must, in the end, be estimated by the number of events
that occur. Eventless or empty time is a paradox, and time there-
fore actually is interpenetrated by things; whereas empty space, or
space without time, seems not so absurd. There may be empty
volumes; there may be no ether. In fact, if there is no ether, prob-
ably most of space is empty; the distances between atoms are far
greater than the extent of each atom, and there may be places
through which electrons never actually pass. There may also be,
beyond the Milky Way, an infinite volume of empty space in every
direction. But is not empty space then a relation without terms?
Rather it is the nearest approach we find in nature, to a relation with-
out terms. It is not quite without its relata, but these relata are not
in the first instance things, but positions. Now a position is not de-
finable without reference to a body; it is given to sense as occupied
by a body, and to thought as capable of occupation even when not
occupied. So space, which is made of positions, is relative to body,
though not always to actual bodies. But it is relative in a peculiar
way, which shows us that even relations may have a semi-substan-
tial character. Spatial relations are presented directly; we see the
stretch between two bodies and the area of a body; we even see
pure positions without magnitude. Relations are as much data as
THE DICHOTOMY OF NATURE 373
things or qualities; and so are points. In the matter of points we
have been enslaved by mathematism, which declares them to be the
result of analysis, the limit of a series. But we should never get the
notion of that limit from the series itself, as it is beyond the series;
all limits are independent of their series and must be given directly
and independently, to be known. Points, however, are given to
experience when we see a minimum visibile which appears to have
no extension. That the physical object thus seen turns out to be
fairly large does not alter the character of our sight of the object.
We know just how a true point would look if we could see it, as we
know by a photograph just how a certain man would look if we
could see him. A point is not merely a conceptual limit but a
sense-datum, though revealed to us in an illusion. The same is true
of a straight line. We see what looks like a line and straight, and
were it not for that datum we should never frame the notion of a
line as the limit of a narrowing plane. All these spatial entities
are given in one way or another, though given as potencies or capa-
cities, while yet real. Space could not wholly break away from mat-
ter or things, but it comes just as near as it can to that condition ;
empty space is the image of presented nothingness ; the way nothing-
ness would look if we could see it. Thereby, it is wrong to derive the
concept of nothing from not- this, not-that, and so on to the limit ; for
we could have no notion of the limit were it not in some fashion
given to sense. Yet even here space is relative, though only in
the last analysis; relative to bodies, by which it is the capacity of
being occupied. And this capacity means that something may move
in which in turn involves time. Thus it is impossible to describe
space without at least eventual reference to time, whereas time may
be described without reference to space though in fact the two are
mingled. Time and space are tied together, but not glued together ;
and the cord is very elastic, for space can recede to an indefinite re-
move from time. Moreover, though the cord is made fast to the
inwards of space, it is affixed to time only on the surface. Space
implies time more than time implies space, while also space can roam
free to an almost unbounded extent.
When philosophers declare that space and time are thoroughly
interpenetrated, they seem to be unduly swayed by the modern love
of connectedness, and the correlative hatred of the dissociated and
solitary.
It has scarcely been recognized that time is the opposite of space ;
opposite as motion and rest are opposite. Time means change, which
is both destruction and creation ; space can not be destroyed, nor can
new space arise, however far space be penetrated by time. Time
can not be empty ; space can be and as regards gross matter must be,
374 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
to allow motion. Space thus, by its negativity, makes room for time,
which is full, to pass. Time also is impossible without differentia-
tion, being succession of events, of which the present exceeds the
others in actuality ; space, being a potency, and by itself, empty, is
everywhere the same, and as homogeneous as pure nothingness.
Even if we supposed that space grew smaller as we receded from a
given spot, that would be rather a body growing smaller; for if
space were smaller, we need only draw upon the surroundings to
make it larger. If a straight line be supposed to have curvature,
we need only swerve from that line in a direction opposite that of
the curvature, to find the true straight line. Homogeneity is no
postulate or convention, but a deliverance of experience, or a con-
sequence thereof ; for whatever variations are displayed may be com-
pensated from the surrounding void. Again, time is a device for
securing a manifold without many things ; an accomplishment which
space can not compass. Space on the other hand makes up for the
destructive affect of time by its power of coexistence ; thereby some-
thing permanent persists along with, or underneath, the series of
changes, and the integrity of substance is preserved through change.
Time is irreversible and space is symmetrical; which explains why
we experience only a little jot of time, the small specious present,
while we can see nearly one half of infinite space. Moreover, to take
for granted some of the later categories, we can see a whole series
of complementary terms connected with these two respectively.
In time, history is alone possible, with its progress or retrogression ;
also purpose and causation, which are the roots of value, responsi-
bility and other categories of personality. Space, on the other
hand, gives us the type of a fixed, ordered universe, such as rational-
ists and systematists love. It is the inspiration of the pantheist
Spinoza, who wrote ordine geometrico, and of absolute idealism,
which depreciates time. The latter is the guide of monadists or
personalists ; of a practical philosophy like Thomism, whose central
category is causation. In fact the whole cleavage of theory and
practise, of structure and function, of equality and privilege the
great body of human dualisms, takes its origin from this objec-
tive source. But for the present we do not show this in detail; we
concentrate attention on a distinction which is fundamental for
later insights, viz., that space is quantitative and time is not. More
exactly, space has but a minimum which is non-quantitative the
point while time has but a minimum that is so the little specious
present; and even this varies irresponsibly.
The reason why time is not a quantity is that it is not a whole,
for the parts drop out; as Baron Munchausen 's horse, whose rear
was cut away, could not be filled. Scientists often speak as if they
THE DICHOTOMY OF NATURE 375
measured time, but they do not do so at all ; and Professor Bergson is,
we think, quite right in saying that science, and philosophy too,
have too much cast reality into the mould of space. Science really
does nothing but note coincidences between different events, and
predict further coincidences. Whether all clocks and other material
processes go faster in one day and slower the next, or as is gener-
ally supposed, at a uniform rate in both, is quite indifferent; all
that calculation and prediction require is that the processes keep
step. If the clock 's hand goes around 24 X 365 J times every time
the earth goes around the sun, that is enough for science. If
the clocks, accurately made, keep time with one another, so that
each angular position of the hands in one corresponds to the same
in another, no more is needed. Science aims only to predict that
when the hands are in a certain position, a certain event will occur.
When a pendulum swings back and forth there is neither inequality
nor equality of the intervals. If they feel equal or unequal, that is
perhaps because we unconsciously estimate them in terms of bodily
rhythms. The length of these we do not know, nor have we any test
of their uniformity. The feeling of equality or inequality may, in
fact, be as illusory as the feeling that we directly see a distance. Mr.
Broad, who accepts time-quantity, argues that "it is very unlikely
that the rotation of the earth, the swings of a pendulum, and the
vibrations of an electron are all retarded according to the same
law." 1 But we do not need to suppose these processes retarded
alike, or hastened alike, or uniform. We simply want the events in
them to correspond point for point. Difference of velocity means
different amount of displacement in two bodies whose motion begins
and ceases simultaneously. The displacement may be actual or
potential. If body A has at one instant a tendency to greater dis-
placement than body B at one instant, A has the greater velocity.
Thus velocity may be defined without presumption of time-quantity.
Time deals with events, not quantities; events ordered in a series
where each has a definite position before, or after, or with, some
other. Thus order does not imply quantity, though it may cor-
respond to quantity; while quantity no doubt does imply order of
less and greater, even as space implies time. To be sure, we say
truthfully that a day is longer than one of its hours. Yet that
could not be, unless a day signified that the earth had gone through
more space by the 24th than by the end of the first hour. We de-
fine day and hour by reference to quantity of displacement, and
then of course they seem quantitative. But in a non-spatial world,
where a substance went through a series of changes, the only mean-
i Perception, Physics, and Eeality, p. 318.
376 JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY
ing we could assign to time would be the number of changes it had
suffered. In a wholly mental world, for instance, if a substance
should go through a series of changes and then return identical to
its original state, time would so far retreat on its own tracks and
the past would be revoked.
In space, however, there is true quantity, because there are
wholes whose parts stay to fill them up. Nor does the equality of
two lengths depend upon the motion of a measuring-rod, super-
posed on each in turn and postulated as invariant. To compare the
lengths of two straight lines A and B, we describe a sphere with A
as radius, select the position A' of that radius which is parallel to
B, and construct a parallelogram whose opposite sides are A' and
B, and whose base is the line joining the corresponding ends of A'
and B. If then the upper side starting from the other end of A'
cuts line B exactly at its other end, B is equal to A; otherwise it
is unequal to A. Obviously it is the simultaneous presence of the
entities concerned which renders the test possible. But in time the
backward end of our line always drops out. If we are to represent
time by a line, it will not be by a straight line, which has a fixed
length. The line will have any curvature we wish; it may even
curve back into its beginning.
Until recently it was believed that all the processes of nature
do keep step. So the defender of time-length says "whilst it is
perfectly possible that a series which seems isochronous and ful-
fills the conditions with respect to another apparently isochronous
series might not obey them when tested with respect to another ap-
parently isochronous series, yet, as a matter of fact, this does not
generally happen."* The reason all the processes or series seem
to vary together is, no doubt, that they are of about the same order
of magnitude. When we come to compare very high velocities with
them, we find that the two orders do not keep step. The speed of
light does not, like other speeds we are conversant with, increase as
we move toward, or decrease as we move away from, the light-
source. Now if uniform velocity meant equal space in equal times,
then our time would have to shorten itself, or our space to enlarge
itself, to account for the discrepancy ; but both of these are really
absurd. If, however, time has no fixed quantity, there is no reason
why a series of changes like the light-waves should always give the
same number for the same number of swings of the clock's pendu-
lum. Keeping step between pendulums and light-waves is a phenom-
enon which can not be pred 
