Full text of "Mind"
MIND
A QUARTERLY REVIEW
OF
PSYCHOLOGY AND PHILOSOPHY.
ABERDEEN :
A. KINU AM) CO., TYPE MUSIC, CLASSICAL, AND GENERAL PRINTERS,
CLARK'S COURT, 2, UPPERKIRKGATE.
MIND
A QUARTERLY REVIEW
OF
PSYCHOLOGY AND PHILOSOPHY.
EDITED BY
GEORGE GROOM ROBERTSON,
FROFESSOR IN UNIVERSITY COLLEGE, LONDON.
VOL. II.-i877.
WILLIAMS AND NORGATE,
14 HENRIETTA STREET, COVENT GARDEN, LONDON
AND 20 SOUTH FREDERICK STREET, EDINBURGH,
1877.
CONTENTS OF VOLUME II.
ARTICLES.
PAGE
BAIN, A. Education as a Science . . . . 1, 294
Life of James Mill (concluded) . . . .519
BARRATT, A. The * Suppression ' of Egoism . . . .167
Ethics and Politics 453
DARWIN, C. Biographical Sketch of an Infant . . . 285
DAVIES, W. G. The Veracity of Consciousness ... 64
EDITOR English Thought in the 18th Century . . . 352
HENDERSON, J. S. Lord Amberley's Metaphysics ... 55
JEVOXS, W. S. ' Cram ' 193
LAND, J. P. X. Kant's Space and Modern Mathematics . . 38
LEWES, G. H. Consciousness and Unconsciousness . . .156
LINDSAY, T. M. Recent Hegelian Contributions to English
Philosophy 476
MACVICAR, J. G. The so-called Antinomy of Reason . .186
MURPHY, J. J. Fundamental Logic 47
D, C. On some Principles of Logic 336
RIBOT. T. Philosophy in France . . . . . .366
S IDG WICK, H. Hedonism and Ultimate Good . . . .27
THOMPSON, I). G. Knowledge and Belief .... 309
TRAVIS, H. An Introspective Investigation .... 22
TYLOR, E. B. Mr. Spencer's Principles of Sociology . . 141
VEITCH, J. Philosophy in the Scottish Universities . 74, 207
VERDON, R, Forgetfulness 437
WUNDT, W. Philosophy in Germany ... . 493
CRITICAL NOTICES.
ADAMSON, R. Fleming's Vocab ulary of Plt!k>j>lii/ . . 98
Simcox's Natural Laic 552
BAIN, A. Sully's Pessimism 558
EDITOR. Ferrier's Functions of lite Bruin .... 92
v i Contents.
PAGE
EDITOR. Maudsley's Physiology of Mind
Shute's Discourse on Truth
SIDGWICK, H. J. Grote's Moral Ideals .
SIMON, D. W. Frohschammer's Phantasie ah Grundprincip
des Wdtprocesses ....
SULLY, J. Fechner's Vorschule der Msthetik .
Janet's Causes Finales
Allen's Physiological ^Esthetics . . . .387
REPORTS.
Beard. Trance 568
Galton. Study of Types of Character . . . . . 573
Goltz. Tlie Functions of the Cerebrum .... 108,247
Hollis. Localisation of Function in the Cerebral Cortex . . 250
Langlois. Sleep 571
Lubbock. The Habits of Ants 251
Romanes. Evolution of Nerves and Nervo-systems . . .565
Sully. Tlie Laws of Dream-Fancy Ill
Taine. The Acquisition of Language "by Children (translated) . 252
NOTES AND DISCUSSIONS.
Allen, G. Mr. Sully on 'Physiological ^Esthetics' . . .574
Bain, A. ' Existence and Descartes' Cog ito ' . . . .259
Bradley, F. H.Mr. Sidgwiclc on ' Ethical Studies' (with roply) 122
Davics, W. G. ' Cogito ergo sum ' . . . . . .412
WitoT.TheLof/icof'If 264
Flint, R. Distinctions between Thought and Feeling . .112
Green, T. H. Hedonism and Ultimate Good . . . .266
vV Hodgson, S. H. Kant's Analytic and Synthetic Judgments . 118
Lingard, J. T. Dr. Carpenters Theory of Attention . . 272
in, A. Mr. Hodgson on ' Cogito ergo sum ' (with reply) . 126
Some questionable Propositions in Ferrier's 'Insti-
tutes' 402
M'Cosh, J. Elements involved in Emotions . . . .413
Pollock, F. Hap2nness or Welfare 269
No. 5.] [January, 1877.
iMIND
A QUARTERLY REVIEW
OF
PSYCHOLOGY AND PHILOSOPHY.
I. EDUCATION AS A SCIENCE.
" r HK scientific treatment of any art consists partly in applying
th I'linHples furnished by the several sciences involved, as
elu inidtil laws to agriculture ; and partly in enforcing, through-
oui tlao, discussion, the utmost precision and rigour in the
siiii! -mw-nt, deduction and proof of the various maxims or rules
that make up the art.
l.ntli fecundity in the thoughts and clearness in the directions
should attest the worth of the scientific method.
DEFINITIONS OF THE SCOPE OF EDUCATION.
First, let me quote the definition embodied in the ideal of the
founders of the Prussian National System. It is given shortly as
" the harmonious and equable evolution of the human powers " ;
at more length, in the words of Stein, " by a method based on
the nature of the mind, every power of the soul to be unfolded,
every crude principle of life stirred up and nourished, all one-
sided culture avoided, and. the impulses on which the strength
and worth of men rest, carefully attended to". (Donaldson's
Lectures on Education, p. 38.) This definition, which is pointed
against narrowness generally, may have had special reference to
the many omissions in the schooling of the foregone times : the
leaving out of such things as bodily or muscular training ;
training in the senses or observation ; training in art or refine-
1
2 Education as a Science.
merit. It farther insinuates that hitherto the professed teacher
may not have done much even for the intellect, for the higher
moral training, nor for the training with a view to happiness or
en joyinent.
Acting on this ideal, not only would the educator put
more pressure altogether on the susceptibilities of his pupils :
he would also avoid over-doing any one branch ; he would con-
sider proportion in the things to be taught. To be all language,
all observation, all abstract science, all fine art, all bodily ex-
pertness, all lofty sentiment, all theology, would not be accepted
as a proper outcome of any trainer's work.
The Prussian definition, good so far, does not readily accommo-
date itself to such circumstances as these : namely, the superior
aptitude of individuals for some things rather than for others i
the advantage to society of pre-eminent fitness for special
functions, although gained by a one-sided development ; the
difficulty of reconciling the ' whole man ' with himself ; the
limited means of the educator, which imposes the necessity of
selection according to relative importance.
Although by no means easy, it is yet possible to make
allowance for these various considerations, under the theory of
harmonious development; but after the operation is accomplished,
the doubt will arise whether much is gained by' using that
theory as the defining fact of education.
In the very remarkable article on Education contributed by
James Mill to the. Encyclopaedia Britannica, the end of Education
is stated to be '{to render the individual, as much as possible,
an instrument of happiness, first to himself, and next to other
beings "3 This, however, should be given as an amended
answer to the first question of the Westminster Catechism
" What is the chief end of man ? " The utmost that we could
expect of the educator, who is not everybody, is to contribute
his part to the promotion of human happiness in the order
stated. No doubt the definition goes more completely to the
root of the matter than the German formula. It does not
trouble itself with the harmony, the many-sidedness, the whole-
ness, of the individual development ; it would admit these just
as might be requisite for securing the final end.
James Mill is not singular in his over-grasping view of the
subject. The most usual sub-division of Education is into
Physical, Intellectual, Moral, Eeligious, Technical. Now when
we enquire into the meaning of Physical Education, we find
it to mean the rearing of a healthy human being, by all the
arts and devices of nursing, feeding, clothing and general
:nen. Mill includes this subject in his article, ad Mr.
Herbert Spencer devotes a very interesting chapter to it
Education as a Science. 3
in his work on Education. It seems to me, however, that
this department may be kept quite separate, important though
it be. It does not at all depend upon the principles and con-
siderations that the educator, properly so called, has in view in
the carrying on of his work. The discussion of the subject
does not in any way help us in educational matters, as most
commonly understood ; nor does it derive any illumination from
being placed side by side with the arts of the recognised teacher.
The fact of bodily health or vigour is a leading postulate in
bodily or mental training, but the trainer does not take upon
himself to lay down the rules of hygiene.
The inadvertence, for so I regard it, of coupling the Art of
Health with Education is easily disposed of, and does not land
us in any arduous controversies. Very different is another
aspect of these definitions : that wherein the end of Education
is propounded as the promotion of human happiness, human
virtue, human perfection. Probably the qualification will at
once be conceded, that Education is but one of the means, a
single contributing agency to the all-including end. Neverthe-
less, the openings for difference of opinion as to what constitutes
.happiness, virtue or perfection, are very wide. Moreover, the
discussion has its proper place in Ethics and in Theology, and
if brought into the field of Education, should be received under
protest.
Before entering upon the consideration of this difficulty, the
greatest of all, I will advert to some of the other views of
Education that seem to err on the side of taking in too much.
Here, I may quote from the younger Mill, who, like his fatiM-r,
and unlike the generality of theorists, starts more wientijico
with a definition. Education, according to him, " inclinh -s
whatever we do for ourselves, and whatever is done for us by
others, for the express purpose of bringing us nearer to the
perfection of our nature ; in its largest acceptation, it comprehends
even the indirect effects produced on character and 011 the
human faculties by things of which the direct purposes are
different; by laws, by forms of government, by the industrial
arts, by modes of social life ; nay even by physical facts not
dependent on the human will ; by climate, soil, and local
position". He admits, however, that this is a very wide view
of the subject, and for his own immediate purpose advances a
narrower view, namely " the culture wliich each generation
purposely gives to those who are to be its successors, in order
to qualify them for at least keeping up, and, if possible, for
raising, the improvement which has been attained". (Ina/uyund
Address at St. Andrews, p. 4.)
Besides involving the dispute as to what constitutes 'perfection/
4 Education as a Science.
the first and larger statement is, I think, too wide for the most
comprehensive Philosophy of Education. The influences
exerted on the human character by climate and geographical
position, by arts, laws, government and modes of social life,
constitute a very interesting department of Sociology, and have
their place there and nowhere else. What we do for ourselves,
and what others do for us, to bring us nearer to the perfection
of our nature, may be education in a precise sense of the word,
and it may not. I do not see the propriety of including under
the subject the direct operation of rewards and punishments.
No doubt we do something to educate ourselves, and society
does something to educate us, in a sufficiently proper acceptation
of the word ; but the ordinary influence of society, in the
dispensing of punishment and reward, is not the essential fact
of Education, as I propose to regard it, although an adjunct to
some of its legitimate functions.
Mill's narrower expression of the scope of the subject is not
exactly erroneous ; the moulding of each generation by the one
preceding is not improperly described as an education. It is,
however, grandiose rather than scientific. Nothing is to be
got out of it. It does not give the lead to the subsequent
exposition.
I find in the article ' Education,' in Chambers's Encyclopaedia,
a definition to the following effect : " In the widest sense of the
word a man is educated, either for good or for evil, by everything
that he experiences from the cradle to the grave [say, rather,
' formed,' ' made,' ' influenced ']. But in the more limited and
usual sense, the term education is confined to the efforts
made, of set purpose, to train men in a particular way the
efforts of the grown-up part of the community to inform the
intellect and mould the character of the young [rather too much
stress on the fact of influence from without] ; and more
especially to the labours of professional educators or school-
masters." The concluding clause is the nearest to the point
the arts and methods employed by the schoolmaster ; for,
although he is not alone in the work that he is expressly devoted
to, yet he it is that typifies the process in its greatest singleness
and purity. If by any investigations, inventions or discussions,
we can improve his art to the ideal pitch, we shall have done
nearly all that can be required of a science and art of Education.
I return to the greater difficulty namely, the question what
is the end of all teaching ; or, if the end be human happiness
and perfection, what definite guidance does this furnish to the
educator? I have already remarked that the enquiry is ac-
knowledged to belong to other departments ; and, if in these
departments clear and unanimous answers have not been
Education as a Science. 5
arrived at, the educationist is not bound to make good the
deficiency.
For this emergency, there is one thing obvious, another less
obvious ; the two together exhausting the resources of the
educator.
The obvious thing is to fix upon whatever matters people are
agreed upon. Of .such the number is considerable, and the
instances important. They make the universal topics of the
schools.
The less obvious thing is, with reference to matters not agreed
upon, that the educator should set forth at what cost these
doubtful acquisitions would have to be made ; for the cost must
be at least one element in the decision respecting them. Who-
ever knows most about Education, is best able to say how far
its appliances can cope with such aims as softening the manners,
securing self-renunciation, bringing about the balanced action of
all the powers, training the whole man, and so forth.
We shall see that one part of the science of Education
consists in giving the ultimate analysis of all complex growths.
It is on such an analysis that the cost can be calculated ; and by
means of this, we can best observe whether contradictory
demands are made upon the educator.
What we have been drifting to, in our search for an aim, is
the work of the school. This may want a little more paring
and rounding to give it scientific form, but it is the thing most
calculated to fix and steady our vision at the outset.
Now in the success of the schoolmaster's work, the first and
central fact is the plastic property of the mind itself. On this
depends the acquisition not simply of knowledge but of every-
thing that can be called an acquisition. The most patent
display of the power consists in memory for knowledge
imparted. In this view the leading enquiry in the art of Educa-
tion is how to strengthen memory. We are therefore led to
take account of the several mental aptitudes that either directly
or indirectly enter into the retentive function. In other words,
we must draw upon the science of the human mind for what-
ever that science contains respecting the conditions of memory.
Although memory, acquisition, retentiveness, depends mainly
upon one unique property of the intellect, which accordingly
demands to. be scrutinised with the utmost care, there are
various other properties, intellectual and emotional, that aid in
the general result, and to each of these regard must be had, in a
S< -ii'iice of Education.
We have thus obtained the clue to one prime division of the
subject the purely psychological part. Of no less consequence
(3 Education as a Science.
is another department at present without a name an inquiry
into the proper or natural order of the different subjects,
grounded on their relative simplicity or complexity, and their
mutual dependence. It is necessary to success in Education
that a subject should not be presented to the pupil, until all
the preparatory subjects have been mastered. This is obvious
enough in certain cases: arithmetic is taken before algebra,
geometry before trigonometry, inorganic chemistry before
organic; but in many cases, the proper order is obscured by
circumstances, and is an affair of very delicate consideration.
I may call this the Analytic or Logical department of the
theory of Education.
It is a part of scientific method to take strict account of
leading terms, by a thorough and exhaustive enquiry into the
meanings of all such. The settlement of many questions rela-
ting to education is embarrassed by the vagueness of the single
term 'discipline'.
Farther, it ought to be pointed out, as specially applicable to
our present subject, that the best attainable knowledge on any-
thing is due to a combination of general principles obtained
from the sciences, with well conducted observations and experi-
ments made in actual practice. On every great question there
should be a convergence of both lights. The technical expres-
sion for this is the union of the Deductive and Inductive
Methods. The deductions are to be obtained apart, in their
own way, and with all attainable precision. The inductions are
the maxims of practice, purified, in the first instance, by wide
comparison and by the requisite precautions.
I thus propose to remove from the Science of Education
matters belonging to much wider departments of human conduct,
and to concentrate the view upon what exclusively pertains to
Education the means of building up the acquired powers of
human beings. The communication of knowledge is the ready
type of the process, but the training operation enters into parts
of the mind not intellectual the activities and the emotions ;
the same forces, however, being at work.
Education does not embrace the 'employment of all our
intellectual functions. There is a different art for directing the
faculties in productive labour, as in the professions, in the
original investigations of the man of science, or the creations of
the artist. The principles of the human mind are applicable to
both departments, but although the two come into occasional
contact, they are so far distinct that there is an advantage in
viewing them separately. In the practical treatise of Locke,
entitled The Conduct of the Understanding, acquisition, pro-
duction, and invention are handled promiscuously.
Education as a Science.
BEARINGS OF PHYSIOLOGY.
The science of Physiology, coupled with the accummulated
empirical observations of past ages, is the reference in finding
out how to rear living beings to the full maturity of their
physical powers. This, as we have said, is quite distinct from
the process of Education.
The art of Education assumes a certain average physical health,
and does not enquire into the means of keeping up or increasing
that average. Its point of contact with physiology and hygiene
is narrowed to the plastic or acquisitive function of the brain
the property of fixing or connecting the nervous connections
that underlie memory, habit and acquired power.
But as physiology now stands, we soon come to the end of
its applications to the husbanding of the plastic faculty. The
enquiry must proceed upon our direct experience in the work of
education, with an occasional check or caution from the
established physiological laws. Still, it would be a forgetting
of mercies to undervalue the results accruing to education from
the physiological doctrine of the physical basis of memory.
On this subject, physiology teaches the general fact that
memory reposes upon a nervous property or power, sustained
like every other physical power by nutrition, and having its
alternations of exercise and rest. It also informs us that, like
every other function, the plasticity may be stunted by inaction,
and impaired by over-exertion.
As far as pure physiology is concerned, I invite everybody to
reflect on one circumstance in particular. The human body is
a great aggregate of organs or interests muscles, digestion,
respiration, senses, brain. When fatigue overtakes it, the organs
generally suffer ; when renovation has set in, the organs gene-
rally are invigorated. This is the first and most obvious
consequence. It has next to be qualified by the remark that
human beings are unequally constituted as regards the various
functions ; some being strong in muscle, others in stomach,
others in brain. In all such persons the general invigoration is
unequally shown ; the favoured organs receive a share pro-
portioned to their respective capitals : to him that hath shall be
given. Still more pertinent is the farther qualification, that the
organ that happens to be most active at the time receives more
than its share ; to exercise the several organs unequally is to
nourish them unequally.
To come to the point as regards our immediate object. To
increase the plastic property of the mind, you must nourish the
brain. You naturally expect that this result will ensue when
the body generally is nourished : and so it will, if there be no
8 Education as a Science.
exorbitant demands on the part of other organs, giving them
such a preference as to leave very little for the organ of the
mind. If the muscles or the digestion are unduly drawn upon,
the brain will not respond to the drafts made upon it. Obversely,
if the brain is constituted by nature, or excited by stimulation,
so as to absorb the lion's share of the nutriment, the opposite
results will appear ; the mental functions will be exalted, and
the other interests more or less impoverished. This is the situa-
tion for an abundant display of mental force.
But we must farther distinguish the mental functions them-
selves; for these are very different and mutually exclusive.
Great refinement in the subdivisions is not necessary for the
illustration. The broadest contrast is the emotional and the
intellectual feeling as pleasure, pain or excitement, and feeling
as knowledge. These two in extreme manifestation are hostile
to each other : under extreme emotional excitement the intellect
suffers ; under great intellectual exertion the emotions subside
(with limitations unnecessary for our purpose).
But Intellect in the largest sense is not identical with the
retentive or plastic .operation. The laws of this peculiar phase
of our intelligence are best obtained by studying it as a purely
mental fact. Yet there is a physiological way of looking at it
that is strongly confirmative of our psychological observations.
On the physical or physiological side, memory or acquisition is
a series of new nervous growths, the establishment of a number
of beaten tracks in certain lines of the cerebral substance. Now
the presumption is, that as regards the claim for nourishment
this is the most costly of all the processes of the intelligence.
To exercise a power once acquired should be a far easier thing,
much less expensive, than to build up a new acquirement. We
may be in sufficiently good condition for the one, while wholly
out of condition for the other Indeed success in acquirement,
looking at it from the physiological probabilities, should be the
work of rare, choice and happy moments : times when cerebral
vigour is both abundant and well-directed.
BEARINGS OF PSYCHOLOGY.
The largest chapter in the Science of Education must be the
following out of all the psychological laws that bear directly or
indirectly upon the process of mental acquirement. Every
branch of Psychology will be found available; but more
especially the Psychology of the Intellect. Of the three great
functions of the Intellect, in the ultimate analysis Discrim-
ination, Agreement, Eetentiveness the last is the most
completely identified with the educative process ; but the others
enter in as constituents in a way peculiar to each. I will
Education as a Science. 9
select, for my present paper, DISCRIMINATION and KETENTIVE-
XESS ; and will endeavour to extract from the discussion of
these great intellectual functions everything that they appear
to yield for the ends of the educator. Although I can impart
no novelty to the general statement of these functions, it is
possible to make some unhackneyed remarks on their educational
consequences.
Discrimination.
Mind starts from Discrimination. The consciousness of
difference is the beginning of every intellectual exercise. To
encounter a new impression is to be aware of change : if the
heat of a room increases ten degrees, we are awakened to the
circumstance by a change of feeling ; if we have no change of
feeling, no altered consciousness, the outward fact is lost upon
us ; we take no notice of it, we are said not to know it.
Our intelligence is, therefore, absolutely limited by our power
of discrimination. The other functions of intellect, the
Retentive power, for example, are not called into play, until we
have first discriminated a number of things. If we did not
originally feel the difference between light and dark, black and
white, red and yellow, there would be no visible scenes for us
to remember: with the amplest endowment of Retentiveness,
the outer world could not enter into our recollection; the blank
of sensation is a blank of memory.
Yet farther. The minuteness or delicacy of the feeling of
difference is the measure of the variety and multitude of our
primary impressions, and, therefore, of our stirred-up recollections.
He that hears only twelve discriminated notes on the musical
scale, has his remembrances of sounds bounded by these ; he
that feels a hundred sensible differences, has his ideas or
recollections of sounds multiplied in the same proportion. The
retentive power works up to the height of the discriminative
power ; it can do no more. Things are not remembered if they
have not first been discriminated.
We have by nature a certain power of discrimination in each
department of our sensibility. We can from the outset dis-
criminate, more or less delicately, sights, sounds, touches, smells,
tastes ; and, in each sense, some persons much more than others.
Tins is the deepest foundation of disparity of intellectual
character, as well as of variety in likings and pursuits. If, from
the beginning, one man can interpolate five shades of discrimina-
tion of colour where another can feel but one transition, the
careers of the two men are foreshadowed and will be widely
apart.
To observe this native inequality is important in predestining
10 Education as a Science.
the child to this or that line of special training. For the actual
work of teaching, it is of more consequence to note the ways
and means of quickening and increasing the discriminating
aptitude. Bearing in mind the fact that until a difference is
felt between two things intelligence has not yet made the first
step, the teacher is bound to consider the circumstances or
conditions favourable and unfavourable to the exercise.
(1.) It is not peculiar to discrimination, but is common to
every mental function, to lay down, as a first condition, mental
vigour, freshness and wakefulness. In a low state of the
mental forces, in languor, or drowsiness, differences cannot be
felt. That the mind should be alive, awake, in full force and
exercise, is necessary for every kind of mental work. The
teacher needs to quicken the mental alertness by artificial
means, when there is a dormancy of mere indolence. He has to
waken the pupil from the state significantly named indifference,
the state where differing impressions fail to be recognised as
distinct.
(2.) The mind may be fresh and alive, but its energies may
be taking the wrong direction. There is a well-known antithesis
or opposition between the emotional and the intellectual
activities, leading to a certain incompatibility of the two.
Under emotional excitement, the intellectual energies are
enfeebled in amount, and enslaved to the reigning emotion. It
is in the quieter states of mind that discrimination, in common
with other intellectual powers, works to advantage. I will
afterwards discuss more minutely the very delicate matter of
the management of the various emotions in the work of
teaching.
(3.) It must not be forgotten that intellectual exercises are in
themselves essentially insipid, unattractive, indifferent. As
exertion, they impart a certain small degree of the delight that
always attends the healthy action of an exuberant faculty ; but
this supposes their later developments, and is not a marked
peculiarity in the child's commencing career. The first circum-
stance that gives an interest to discrimination is pleasurable
or painful stimulus. Something must hang on a difference
before the mind is made energetically awake to it. A thoroughly
uninteresting difference is not an object of attention to any one.
the transitions from cold to hot, dark to light, strain to relief,
nger to repletion, silence to sound, are all more or less
nteresting, and all more or less impressive. But then they are
vehement and sensational. It is necessary in order to the
mushing of the intelligence, that smaller and less sensational
itions should be felt ; the intellectual nature is characterised
by requiring the least amount of emotional flash in order to
Education' as a Science. 11
impress a difference. A loud and furious demonstration will
certainly compel attention and end in the feeling of difference,
but the cost is too great to be often repeated.
(4.) The great practical aid to the discovery and the reten-
tion of difference is immediate succession or, what comes to the
same thing, close juxta-position. A rapid transition makes
evident a difference that would not be felt after an interval,
still less if anything else were allowed to occupy the mind in the
meantime. __ This fact is sufficiently obvious, and is turned to
account in easy cases ; but is far from thoroughly worked out
by the teacher and the expositor. Any trifling diversion will
suffice to blind us to its importance.
We compare two notes by sounding them in close succession ;
two shades of colour by placing them side by side ; two weights
by holding them in the two hands, and attending to the two
feelings by turns. These are the plain instances. The com-
parison of forms leads to complications, and we cease to attempt
the same kind of comparison. For mere length we lay the two
things alongside ; so for an angle. For number, we can place
two groups in contiguous rows three by the side of four or five
and observe the surplus.
Mere size is an affair of simple juxta-position. Form, ir-
respective of size, is less approachable. A triangle and a
quadrangle are compared by counting the sides, and resolving
the difference of form into the simpler element of difference of
number. A right-angled, an acute-angled, an isosceles triangle,
must be compared by the juxta-position of angles. A circle
and an oval are represented by the alternatives of curvature
and diameters; in the one the curvature uniform, and the
diameters equal, in the other, the curvature varying and the
diameters unequal. The difference between a close and an open
curve is palpable enough.
The geometrical forms are thus resolvable into very simple
bases of comparison : and the teacher must analyse them in the
manner now stated. For the irregular and capricious forms, the
elementary conceptions are still the same lineal size, number,
angular size, curvature but the mode of guiding the attention
may be various. Sometimes there is a strong and overpowering
similarity, with a small and unconspicuous difference ; as in our
ciphers (compare 3 and 5), and in the letters of our alphabet
(C, G), and still more in the, Hebrew alphabet. For such com-
parisons, the difference, such as it is, needs to be very clearly
drawn or even exaggerated. Another method is to have
models of the same size to lay over one another, so as to bring
out the difference through the juxta-position. By a distinct
effort, the teacher calls on the learner to view, with single-
12 Education as a Science.
minded attention, the differing circumstance, and afterwards to
reproduce it by his own hand. One express lesson consists in
asking the pupil what are the ciphers, or the letters, that are
nearly alike, and what are the points of difference.
The higher arts of comparison to impress difference are best
illustrated when both differences and agreements have to be
noted. They would have to be resumed after the discussion of
the intellectual force of Agreement or Similarity. The chief
stress of the present explanation lies in regarding Discrimina-
tion as the necessary prelude of every intellectual impression,
as the basis of our stored-up knowledge, or memory. Agree-
ment is pre-supposed likewise; but there is not the same
necessity, nor is it expedient, to follow out the workings of
Agreement, before considering the plastic power of the intellect.
The Retentive Faculty.
This is the faculty that most of all concerns us in the work of
Education. On it rests the possibility of mental growths or
capabilities not given by nature.
Every impression made upon us, if sufficient to awaken con-
sciousness at the time, has a certain permanence ; it can persist
after the original ceases to work ; and it can be restored after-
wards as an idea or remembered impression. The bursting out
of a flame arouses our attention, gives a strong visible impres-
sion, and becomes an idea or deposit of memory. It is thought
of afterwards without being actually seen.
It is not often that one single occurrence leaves a permanent
and recoverable idea; usually, we need several repetitions for
the purpose. The process of fixing the impression occupies a
certain length of time ; either we must prolong the first shock,
or renew it on several successive occasions. This is the first
law of Memory, Retention or Acquisition : " Practice makes
perfect " ; " Exercise is the means of strengthening a faculty,"
and so forth. The good old rule of the schoolmaster is simply
to make the pupil repeat, rehearse, or persist at, a lesson, until
it is learnt.
All improvement in the art of teaching consists in having
trd to the various circumstances that facilitate acquirement,
or lessen the number of repetitions for a given effect. Much is
il-lc in the way of economising the plastic power of the
human system; and when we have pushed this economy to the
utmost, we have made perfect the Art of Education in one lead-
ing <i<'i>artment. It is thus necessary that the consideration of
all the known conditions that favour or impede the plastic
growth of the system, should be searching and minute.
Al though some philosophers have taught that all minds are
Education as a Science. 13
nearly equal in regard to facility of acquirement, a schoolmaster
that would say so, must be of the very rudest type. The in-
equality of different minds in imbibing lessons, under the very
same circumstances, is a glaring fact ; and is one of the obstacles
encountered in teaching numbers together, that is, classes. It
is a difficulty that needs a great deal of practical tact or
management, and is not met by any educational theory.
The different kinds of acquirements vary in minor circum-
stances which are important to be noticed after exhausting the
general or pervading conditions. The greatest contrast is
between what belongs to Intelligence, and what belongs to the
Feelings and the WilL The more strictly Intellectual depart-
ment comprises Mechanical Art, Language, the Sensible World,
the Sciences, Fine Art ; and to each of these heads may attach
specialities not hard to assign.
General circumstances favouring Eetentiveness.
(1.) The Physical condition. This has been already touched
upon, both in the review of Physiology, and in the remarks on
Discrimination. It includes general health, vigour and fresh-
ness at the moment, together with the farther indispensable
proviso, that the nutrition, instead of being drafted off to
strengthen the mere physical functions, is allowed to run in
good measure to the brain.
In the view of mental efficiency, the muscular system, the
digestive system, and the various organic interests, are to be
exercised up to the point that conduces to the maximum of
general vigour in the system, and no farther. They may be
carried farther in the interest of sensual enjoyment", but that is
not now before us. Hence a man must exercise his muscles,
must feed himself liberally and give time to digestion to do its
work, must rest adequately all for the greatest energy of the
mind, and for the trying work of education in particular. Nor
is it so very difficult, in the present state of physiological and
medical knowledge, to assign the reasonable proportions in all
these matters, for a given case.
Everything tends to show that, in the mere physical point of
view, the making of impressions on the brain, although never
remitted during all our waking moments, is exceedingly unequal
at different times. We must be well aware that there are
moments when we are incapable of receiving any lasting im-
pressions, and there are moments when we are unusually
susceptible. The difference is not one wholly resolvable into
more meatal energy on the whole; we may have a considerable
reserve of force for other mental acts, as the performance of
routine offices, and not much for retaining new impressions ; we
14 Education as a Science.
are capable of reading, talking, writing, and of taking an interest
in the exercises ; we may indulge emotions, and carry out pur-
suits, and yet not be in a state for storing the memory, or
amassing knowledge. Even the incidents that we take part
in sometimes fail to be remembered" beyond a very short time.
What, then, is there so very remarkable and unique in the
physical support of the plastic property of the brain ? What
are the moments when it is at the plenitude of its efficiency ?
What are the things that especially nourish and conserve it ?
Although there is still wanting a careful study of this whole
subject, the patent facts appear to justify us in asserting, that
the plastic or retentive function is the very highest energy
of the brain, the consummation of nervous activity. To
drive home a new experience, to make an impression self-
sustaining and recoverable, uses up (we are to suppose) more
brain force than any other kind of mental exercise. The
moments of susceptibility to the storing up of knowledge, the
engraving of habits and acquisitions, are thus the moments of
the maximum of unexpended force. The circumstances need to
be such as to prepare the way for the highest manifestation of
cerebral energy ; including the perfect freshness of the system,
and the absence of everything that would speedily impair it.
To illustrate this position, I may refer to the kind of mental
work that appears to be second in its demand on the energy of
the brain. The exercise of mental constructiveness the
solving of new problems, the applying of rules to new cases, the
intellectual labour of the more arduous professions, as the law,
where a certain amount of novelty attends every case that
occurs demands no little mental strain, and is easy according to
the brain vigour of the moment. Still, these are exercises that
can be performed with lower degrees of power ; we are capable
of such professional work in moments when our memory would
in t take in new and lasting impressions. In old age, when we
cease to be educable in any fresh endowment, we can still
perform these constructive exercises ; we can grapple with new
questions, invent new arguments and illustrations, decide what
should be done in original emergencies.
The constructive energy has all degrees, from the highest
Mights of invention^ and imagination down to the point where
construction shades off into literal repetition of what has formerly
ii done. The preacher in composing a fresh discourse puts
i more or less of constructiveness: in repeating prayers and
formularies, in reading from book, there is only reminiscence.
This is the third and least exigent form of mental energy; it is
-iU-, in the very lowest states of cerebral vigour. When
acquisition is fruitless, construction is possible; when a slight
Education as a Science. 15
departure from the old routine passes the might of the intelli-
gence, literal reminiscence may operate.
Another mode of mental energy that we are equal to, when
the freshness of our susceptibility to new growths has gone off,
is searching and noting. This needs a certain strain of atten-
tion ; it is not possible in the very lowest tide of the nervous
flow ; but it may be carried on with all but the smallest degrees
of brain power. When the scholar or the man of science ceases
ta trust his memory implicitly for retaining new facts that occur
in his reading, observation or reflection, he can still keep a
watch for them, and enter them in his notes. So in the hours
of the day when memory is less to be trusted, useful study may
still be maintained by the help of the memorandum and the
note-book.
The indulgence of the emotions (when not violent or exces-
sive) is about the least expensive of our mental exercises, and
may go on when we are unfit for any of the higher intellectual
moods, least of all for the crowning work of storing up new
knowledge or new aptitudes. There are degrees here also ; but,
speaking generally, to love or to hate, to dominate or to worship,
although impossible in the lowest depths of debility, are within
the scope of the inferior grades of nervous power.
From this estimate of comparative outlay, we may judge what
are the times and seasons and circumstances most favourable to
acquirement. It may be assumed that in the early part of the
day the total energy of the system is at its height, and that
towards evening it flags; hence morning is the season of improve-
ment. For two or three hours after the first meal, the strength
is probably at the highest ; total remission for another hour or
tovo, and a second meal, (with physical exercise when the
labour has been sedentary), prepare for a second display of
vigour, although presumably not equal to the first ; when the
edge of this is worn off', there may, after a pause, be another
bout of application, but far inferior in result to the first or even
to the second. No severe strain should be attempted in this
last stage ; not much stress should be placed on the available
plasticity of the system, although the constructive and routine
efforts may still be kept up.
The regular course of the day may be interfered with by
exceptional circumstances, but these only confirm the rule. If
we have lain idle or inactive for the early hours, we may of
course be fresher in the evening, but the late application will
not make up for the loss of the early hours ; the nervous energy
will gradually subside as the day advances however little
exertion we may make. Again, we may at any time determine
an outburst of nervous energy by persistent exercise and by
16 Education as a Science.
stimulation, which draws blood to the brain, without regard to
circumstances and seasons, but this is wasteful in itself and
disturbing to the healthy functions.
As a general rule, the system is at its greatest vigour in the
cold season of the year ; and most work is done in winter.
Summer studies are comparatively unproductive.
The review of the varying plasticity in the different stages of
life might be conducted on the same plan of estimating the col-
lective forces of the system, and the share of these available for
brain work, but other circumstances have to be taken into the
account, and I do not enter upon the question here.
There are many details in the economy of the plastic power
that have a physical as well as a mental aspect. Such are those
relating to the strain and remission of the Attention, to the
pauses and alternations during the times of drill, to the modera-
ting of the nervous excitement, and other matters. These should
all find a place under the head of the Eetentive function. It is
expedient now to take up the consideration of the subject from
the purely mental side.
(2.) The one circumstance that sums up all the mental aids to
plasticity is CONCENTRATION. A certain expenditure of nervous
power is involved in every adhesion, every act of impressing the
memory, every communicated bias ; and the more the better.
This supposes, however, that we should withdraw the forces, for
the time, from every other competing exercise ; and especially,
that we should redeem all wasting expenditure for the purpose
in view.
It is requisite, therefore, that the circumstances leading to the
concentration of the mind should be well understood. We
assume that there is power available for the occasion, and we
seek to turn it into the proper channel. Now there is no doubt
that the will is the chief intervening influence, and the chief
stimulants of the will are, as we know, pleasure and pain. This
is the rough view of the case. A little more precision is attain-
able through our psychological knowledge.
And first, the Will itself as an operating or directing power,
that is to say, the moving of the organs in a given way under a
motive, is a growth or culture ; it is very imperfect at first, and
improves by usage. A child of twelve months cannot by any
inducement be prompted readily to clap its hands, to point with
its forefinger, to touch the tip of its nose, to move its left
shoulder forward. The most elementary acts of the will, the
alphabet of all the higher acquisitions, have first to be learned
in a way of their own ; and until they have attained a sufficient
advancement, so as to be amenable to the spur of a motive, the
teacher has nothing to go upon.
Education as a Science. 17
I have elsewhere described this early process, as I conceive it,
in giving an account of the development of the Will. In the
practice of education, it is a matter of importance as showing at
what time mechanical instruction is possible, and what impedes
its progress at the outset, notwithstanding the abundance of
plasticity in the brain itself. The disciplining of the organs
to follow directions would seem to be the proper province of
the Infant school.
Coming now to the influences of concentration, we assign the
first place to intrinsic charm, or pleasure in the act itself. The
law of the Will, in its side of greatest potency, is that Pleasure
sustains the movement that brings it. The whole force of the
mind at the moment goes with the pleasure-giving exercise.
The harvest of immediate pleasure stimulates our most intense
exertions, if exertion serves to prolong the blessing. So it is
with the deepening of an impression, the confirming of a bent
or bias, the associating of a couple or a sequence of acts ; a
coinciding burst of joy awakens the attention and thus leads to
an enduring stamp on the mental framework.
The engraining efficiency of the pleasurable motive requires
not only that we should not be carried off into an accustomed
routine of voluntary activities, such as to give to the forces another
direction, as when we pace too and fro in a flower garden; but also
that the pleasure should not be intense and tumultuous. The law
of the mutual exclusion of great pleasure and great intellectual
exertion forbids the employment of too much excitement of
any kind, when we aim at the most exacting of all mental
results the forming of new adhesive growths. A gentle
pleasure that for the time contents us, there being no great
temptation at hand, is the best foster-mother of our efforts at
learning. Still better, if it be a growing pleasure; a small
beginning, with steady increase, never too absorbing, is the best
of all stimulants to mental power. In order to have a yet
wider compass of stimulation, without objectionable extremes,
we might begin on the negative side, that is, in pain or priva-
tion, to be gradually remitted in the course of the studious
exercise, giving place at last to the exhilaration of a waxing
pleasure. All the great teachers from Socrates downwards
seem to recognise the necessity of putting the learner into a
state of pain to begin with ; a fact that we are by no means to
exult over, although we may have to admit the stern truth that
is in it. The influence of pain, however, takes a wider range
than here supposed, as will be seen under our next head.
A moderate exhilaration and cheerfulness growing out of the
act of learning itself is certainly the most genial, the most
effectual means of cementing the unions that we desire to form
2
18 Education as a Science.
in the mind. This is meant when we speak of the learner
having a taste for his pursuit, having the heart in it, learning
con, amore. The fact is perfectly well known ; the error, in
connection with it, lies in dictating or enjoining this state of
mind on everybody in every situation, as if it could be
commanded by a wish, or as if it were not itself an expensive
endowment. The brain cannot yield an exceptional pleasure
without charging for it.
Next to pleasure in the actual, as a concentrating motive, is
pleasure in prospect, as in learning what is to bring us some
future gratification. The stimulus has the inferiority attaching
to the idea of pleasure as compared with the reality. Still it
may be of various degrees, and may rise to a considerable pitch
of force. Parents often reward their children with coins for
success in their lessons ; the conception of the pleasure in this
case is nearly equal to a present tremor of sense-delight. On
the other hand, the promises of fortune and distinction, after a
long interval of years, have seldom much influence in con-
centrating the mind towards a particular study.
Let us now view the operation of Pain. By the law of the
will, pain repels us from the thing that causes it. A
painful study repels us, just as an agreeable one attracts and
detains us. The only way that pain can operate is when it is
attached to neglect, or to the want of mental concentration in a
given subject ; we then find pleasure, by comparison, in sticking
to our task. This is the theory of punishing the want of applica-
tion. It is in every way inferior to the other motives ; and this
inferiority should be always kept in view in employing it, as
every teacher often must with the generality of scholars. Pain
is a waste of brain-power ; while the work of the learner needs
the very highest form of this power. Punishment works at a
heavy percentage of deduction, which is still greater as it
passes into the well-defined form of terror. Every one has
experienced cases where severity has rendered a pupil utterly
incapable of the work prescribed.
Discarding all a priori theories as to whether the human
mind can be led on to study by an ingenious system of plea-
surable attractions, we are safe to affirm that if the physical
conditions are properly regarded, if the work is within the
compass of the pupil's faculties, and if a fair amount of
assistance is rendered in the way of intelligible direction, although
some sort of pain will frequently be necessary, it ought not to
be so great as to damp the spirits and waste the plastic energy.
The line of remark is exactly the same for pain in prospect,
with allowance for the difference between reality and the idea.
It is well when prospective pain has the power of a motive,
Education as a Science. 19
because the future bad consequences of neglect are so various
and so considerable, as to save the resort to any other. But
since the young mind in general is weak in the sense of futurity,
whether for good or for evil, only very near, very intelligible
and very certain pains can take the place of presently acting
deterrents.
In the study of the human mind, we need, for many purposes,
to draw a subtle distinction between feeling as Pleasure or
Pain, and feeling as Excitement not necessarily pleasurable or
painful. This subtlety cannot be dispensed with in our present
subject. There is a form of mental concentration that is pro-
perly termed excitement, and is not properly termed pleasurable
or painful excitement. A loud or sudden shock, a rapid whirl-
ing movement, stirs, wakens or excites us ; it may also give us,
pleasure or pain, but it may be perfectly neutral : and even
when there is pleasure or pain, there is an influence apart from,
what would belong to pleasure or pain, as such. A state of
excitement seizes hold of the mind for the time being and shuts
out other mental occupations ; we are engrossed with the
subject that brought on the state, and are not amenable to
extraneous influences, until that has subsided. Hence, excite-
ment is pre-eminently a means of making an impression, of
stamping an idea in the mind : it is strictly an intellectual
stimulus. There is still the proviso (under the general law of
incompatibility of the two opposite moods) that the excitement
must not be violent and wasting. In well-understood modera-
tion, excitement is identical with attention, mental engrossment,
the concentration of the forces upon the plastic or cementing
operation, the rendering permanent as a recollection what lies
in the focus of the blaze. Excitement, so denned, is worthless
as an end, but is valuable as a means ; and that means is the
furtherance of our mental improvement by driving home some
useful concatenation of ideas.
Another subtlety remains a distinction within a distinction.
After contrasting feeling as excitement with feeling as pleasure
or pain, we must separate the useful from the useless or even
pernicious modes of excitement. The useful excitement is what
is narrowed and confined to the subject to be impressed ; the
useless, and worse than useless, excitement is what spreads far
and wide, and embraces nothing in particular. It is easy to get
up the last species of excitement the vague, scattered, and
tumultuous mode but this is not of avail for any set purpose ;
it may be counted rather as a distracting agency than as a
means of calling forth and concentrating the attention upon an
exercise.
The true excitement for the purpose in view is what grows
20 Education as a Science.
out of the very subject itself, surrounding and adhering to that
subject. Now for this kind of excitement, the recipe is con-
tinuous application of the mind in perfect surrounding still-
ness. Eestrain all other solicitation of the senses, keep the
attention upon the one act to be learnt; and, by the law of
nervous and mental persistence, the currents of the brain will
become gradually stronger and stronger, until they have reached
the point when they do no more good for the time. This is
the ideal of concentration by neutral excitement.
The enemy of such happy neutrality is pleasure from with-
out ; and the youthful mind cannot resist the distraction of a
present pleasure, or even the scent of a far-off pleasure. The
schoolroom is purposely screened off from the view of what is
going on outside; while all internal incidents that hold out
pleasurable diversion are carefully restrained, at least during the
crisis of a difficult lesson. A touch of pain, or apprehension, if
only slight, is not unfavourable to the concentration.
A very important observation remains, namely, that relation-
ship of ^Retention to Discrimination which was stated in intro-
ducing the function of Discrimination. The consideration of this
relationship illustrates with still greater point the true character
of the excitement that concentrates and does not distract nor
dissipate the energies. The moment of a delicate discrimination
is the moment when the intellectual force is dominant ; emotion
spurns nice distinctions, and incapacitates the mind for feeling
them. The quiescence and stillness of the emotions enables the
mind to give its full energies to the intellectual processes
generally ; and of these, the fundamental is perception of differ-
ence. Now the more mental force we can throw into the act
of noting a difference, the better is that difference felt, and
the better it is impressed. The same act that favours discrimina-
tion, favours retention. The two cannot be kept separate. No
law of the intellect appears to be more certain than the law that
connects our discriminating power with our retentive power.
In whatever class of subjects our discrimination is great
colours, forms, tunes, tastes in that class our retention is great.
Whenever the attention can be concentrated on a subject in
such a way as to make us feel all its delicate lineaments, which
is another way of stating the sense of differences, through that
very circumstance a great impression is made on the memory ;
there is no more favourable moment for engraving a recollection.
The perfection of neutral excitement, therefore, is typified by
the intense rousing of the forces in an act or a series of acts of
discrimination. If by any means we can succeed in this, we
are sure that the other intellectual consequences will follow.
It is a rare and difficult attainment in volatile years : the con-
Education as a Science. 21
ditions, positive and negative, for its highest consummation
cannot readily be commanded. Yet we should clearly compre-
hend what these conditions are ; and the foregoing attempt has
been made to seize and embody them.
Pleasure and pain, besides acting in their own character, that
is, directing the voluntary actions, have a power as mere excite-
ment, or as wakening up the mental blaze, during which all
mental acts, including the impressing of the memory, are more
effective. The distinction must still be drawn between concen-
trated and diffused excitement, between excitement in, and
excitement away from, the work to be done. Pleasure is the
most favourable adjunct, if not too great. Pain is the more
stimulating or exciting ; under a painful smart the forces are
very rapidly quickened for all purposes, until we reach the
point of wasteful dissipation. This brings us round again to the
ISocratic position, the preparing of the learner's mind by the
torpedo or the gad-fly.
The full compass of the operation of the painful stimulant is
well shown in some of our most familiar experiences as learners.
In committing a lesson to memory, we con it a number of times
by the book : w r e then try without the book. We fail utterly,
and are slightly pained by the failure. We go back to the book,
and try once more without it. We still fail, but strain the
memory to recover the lost trains. The pains of failure and the
act of straining stimulate the forces; the attention is roused
seriously and energetically. The next reference to the book
finds us far more receptive of the impression to be made ; the
weak links are now re-inforced with avidity, and the next trial
shows the value of the discipline that has been undergone.
One remark more will close the view of the conditions of
plasticity. It is that Discrimination and Retentiveness have a
common support in rapidity and sharpness of transition. A
sharp and sudden change is commonly said to make a strong
impression: the fact implied concerns discrimination and reten-
tion alike. Vague, shadowy, ill-defined boundaries fail to be
discriminated, and the subjects of them are not remembered.
The educator finds great scope for his art in this consideration
also.
A. BAIN.
II.AN INTROSPECTIVE INVESTIGATION.
I commenced more than twenty years ago an introspective
investigation in reference to a disputed point in mental science
whether or not man is a personal agent in the forming or
producing of his will-to-act, or, as some call it, his act of will.
" I never yet caught myself," says Jonathan Edwards (in his
Dissertation concerning Liberty and Necessity, p. 171), " in the act
of making a volition, if this mean anything more than having a
volition, or being the subject of it. If any man be conscious
that he makes his own volitions, he is doubtless conscious of
two distinct acts in this ; one the act made by himself, another
the act making or by which he makes the act made. Now will
any man profess to the world, that he is or ever has been con-
scious of these distinct acts ? " (The italics are in the original.)
The volition the will-to-act is here spoken of, first as a mental
state, of which man is " the subject," and then as a mental act,
the act by which man makes his acts.
In common with Jonathan Edwards, and wdth many others,
I had never yet caught myself making a volition, and therefore
I did not believe that man has any " power efficiently to cause
a volition in himself," or to form his will-to-act, or his determi-
nation (p. 170). My opinion upon this point was very plainly
stated by Mr. J. S. Mill, when, in his Logic, he said that
our will-to-act is " given us, not by any efforts of ours, but by
circumstances which we cannot help " ; and when, speaking of
the idea that man has a " power over his volitions," in his Exa-
mination of Sir William Hamilton's Philosophy, he said, " in
common with one-half of the psychological world, I am wholly
ignorant of my possessing any such power ".
I desired to ascertain, if I could, what it could be which caused
the common belief that man is a personal agent in the forming
of his determinations. What I believed upon this point was, that
our will-to-act is the effect of the strongest motive-feeling, and
that our motive-feelings and their relative strength, upon every
occasion, are effects of conditions within us and external to us
at the time ; and that, therefore, our motive -feelings and our
will-to-act are formed " for us, and not by us". I was persuaded
into this belief, with no little difficulty, some twenty years before,
being then more than twenty years of age, and having until
then believed vaguely, as persons do w r ho have never thought
particularly upon the subject, and as many do who have
thought particularly upon it, that our will-to-act is made by
ourselves. During the intervening more than twenty years I
often discussed the subject, verbally and in writing, and my
belief that man is not a personal agent in the forming of hi&
An Introspective Investigation. 23
determinations was confirmed by the knowledge that many dis-
tinguished writers upon mental science were of the same opinion,
and hy the inability of the opponents of this view to point out
the mental facts by which they were made conscious, as they
said, that this opinion is not correct. But I was often disap-
pointed to find that I was not able to convince the opponents of
this opinion that they were in error in denying it. They said
they were conscious they perceived irrespectively that they
did something in the forming of their determinations ; they were
conscious of a nisus or effort. And when I pointed out to them
that our motive-feelings and their relative strength are dependent
upon internal and external conditions, I was told by some of them
that they felt that they themselves produced the preponderance
of the motive-feeling from which they acted. But I asked them
in vain to describe or point out to me what they did, or how they
produced the final preponderance of the motive-feeling. They
could only say that they were conscious of a nisus or effort in
willing, or in the forming of their will-to-act. And from writers
upon the subject I could not obtain any more information upon
this point. I therefore at last set to work to try to ascertain
what there could be in their mental experience to excite in them
what I believed to be the illusory idea that they did something
in the forming of their determinations.
I. Knowing that the desired information could only be ob-
tained by examining into the facts of the subject, and that I
could only examine the facts of the subject, directly, by observ-
ing my own mental experience, I began to ask myself, " What
do we do in willing, or what is there in willing, to account for
the supposed consciousness of effort in connection with it ? "
I found that the will to do an act, in the strict sense of the
term, is the mental fact which immediately precedes an act.
It is not a wish or a desire ; because we may have a wish or a
desire to do an act, and not have a will to do it. And it is
not any other feeling or emotion which is not immediately fol-
lowed by the act to which it has reference. The will to do an
act is always followed immediately by the act. We cannot do
an act (we cannot move a finger, for instance) without having a
will to do it; and we cannot have a will to do an act (to move
our finger, for instance), and not do it. And to will to do an
act is to have a will to do it ; as to desire to do an act is to have
a desire to do it. The will-to-act, therefore, is a mental state ;
it is not an " act of will". We do not do a will to do an act ;
we have it. There is no action, therefore no nisus or effort
in willing. Voluntary nisus or effort is preceded by a will to
make it ; and to confound the effort with the will to make it,
and to imagine that a will-to-act is an act of will, is a funda-
mental mistake.
24 An Introspective Investigation.
II. My next question was, " What is a will-to-act?" Looking
again into the facts of my mental experience, I found, first,
that to have a will-to-act we must have a thought of the act
which we have a will to do. But I found that a thought of an
act is not a will to do it. In the will-to-act, therefore, there must
be the thought and something more. What is this something
more ? It must be emotion. What is this emotion, and how
shall we describe it ? It is the kind of emotion which we feel
when we have a strong impulse to do an act. And therefore
we may call it impulsive emotion. As a desire to do an act, for
instance, is a thought of the act, combined with the emotion of
desire ; and as in joy, hope, fear, &c., we have a thought in con-
junction with the peculiar emotion of these feelings ; so in a
will to do an act we have a thought of the act willed, in con-
junction with emotion. If we carefully observe the combination
of thought and feeling which immediately precedes an act (or
rather, if we carefully recollect it for the transition from the
will-to-act to the act is so instantaneous that we have no time
to observe the will-to-act we can only recollect it), we may
perceive distinctly that it is so. And we may perceive that a
will to do an act is a decisive impulse to do it, and that what is
commonly called an impulse, which is not followed by the act,
is an indecisive impulse. In the will-to-act, therefore, the im-
pulsive emotion is stronger than it is in the indecisive impulse.
I had thus obtained a second step in the investigation. I had
ascertained decisively, by distinctly tracing the facts of the
subject, first, that a will-to-act is the mental state which is the
immediate mental antecedent of action, and that it is not an
" act of will "; and secondly, that it is a combination of thought
and emotion, and that it is a decisive impulse to do an act.
III. The next question to be asked of the facts of our mental
experience was, " What is mental action ? " We do not do our
sensations, or our thoughts, or our emotions, or our volitions ; and
what more is there for us to do in our mental operations ? What
do we do, for instance, when we attend ? We are told by some
philosophers that we do nothing when we attend to a thought
that " to have an interesting idea and to attend to it are the
same". But we are conscious we perceive introspect! vely
that we do something, that we are not passive in attending to a
thought, however passive we may be at times in having thoughts.
And we are told by other philosophers that attention is a mental
act, but they do not tell us what we do in attending. If we
observe carefully the mental facts which occur in us when we
attend to a thought, we find that, when we do so, we keep up the
thought to which we are said to attend. Attention, then, is not
simply a mental act it is an active mental operation, in which
An Introspective Investigation. 25
we have thoughts and keep them up ; as looking (the mental
part of it) is an active mental operation, in which we have per-
ceptions of sight and keep them up. What we do, then, in
attending, and in other active mental operations, is, that we
keep up thoughts or perceptions. It is here, then, if anywhere,
that we shall find the nisus of which the philosophers are con-
scious who say that we are personal agents in the forming of
our determinations, or that we produce the preponderance of the
motive-feeling, or the impulse, which becomes decisive.
IV. I had next to ascertain whether by keeping up thoughts
we can in any way assist in the forming of our will-to-act, or in
producing the preponderance of one impulse over another, and
whether, therefore, there is the personal agency, or effort, in the
forming of our determinations, of which some philosophers say
they are. conscious, but of which, if they are so, their conscious-
ness is so vague or dim that they are unable to point out the
facts of the mental process. And I therefore sought to ascertain
what is the effect of keeping up a thought. And I found that
when we keep up a thought it becomes clearer or more distinct ;
as when we keep up a perception of sight, by looking at an
object, the perception becomes clearer or more distinct. And
that as the thought is kept up the emotion which is connected
with it becomes stronger. And that when one thought is kept
up other thoughts are kept down, more or less, and the emotion
connected with them is also kept down. This is what is done,
by instinct more than by intelligent intention, when men en-
deavour to " drive away sorrow ". They drive away the
thoughts with which their emotion of sorrow is connected,
by keeping up other thoughts ; and they succeed or do not
succeed in producing the desired effect, as they persevere and
are successful, or not, in their endeavours to keep away or to
modify the thoughts by which their grief is excited, and as
their endeavours are well or ill directed.
V. Applying the facts which had now been clearly ascer-
tained, in tracing the mental process by which our volitions are
produced, I found that when there are more impulses than one,
as when we are in doubt whether we will do this act or that, we
may, and in many cases we do, increase the strength of one of
the impulses by keeping up the thought which is the intellectual
part of it. This is what we do when we successfully resist a
temptation of any kind. In cases in which we merely form a
choice by ascertaining, so far as we are able to do so, the course of
action which will be the most beneficial, it is still by obtaining
and keeping up the thoughts or the perceptions by which we
are conscious of the advantages and the disadvantages of the
acts under consideration that we obtain the decisive impulse, or
26 An Introspective Investigation.
are personal agents in the forming of it. In such a simple case,
for instance, as in choosing an orange from a heap, we look first
at one orange and then at another, until we find one which
appears to us to be the best. And we thus form the determina-
tion to take that particular orange. It is evident, therefore,
when we know the facts of the subject, that it is a mistake to
suppose that our will-to-act is in all cases " given us without
any efforts of ours ". And if " we never yet caught ourselves in
the act of making a volition," it was not because we never did
make one it was because our ideas of the mental facts of the
case were so vague and erroneous that it was impossible that we
should know what we were doing when we did so. In some
cases, it is true, the forming of the decisive impulse is so instan-
taneous that our will to act may truly be said to be " given us
without any effort of ours ". As when, for instance, one orange
is offered to us and we take it. But even in such a case, there
is often a rapid keeping up of various thoughts before we decide.
And in very many cases we attend carefully to various con-
siderations before our decision is produced, and are therefore
distinctly personal agents in the forming of it.
The instinctive consciousness of the difference between form-
ing a choice or a determination, and having a choice or a deter-
mination when it has been formed, is shown in the common
language of men. To " elect," to " determine," to " decide " upon
a course of action, is to form an election, a determination, a
decision, a will-to-act. To " prefer " is to have a preference.
But the vagueness of the instinctive consciousness is shown by the
use of same word in both senses. To " choose," for instance, may
mean either to form a choice, or to have a choice or preference
when it has been formed. And the verb to " will," though it
can only be used correctly in the sense of having a will-to-act,
is often used in the active sense, or as if to will to do an act
were to do an " act of will " as in the quotation above from
Jonathan Edwards.
We have a curious illustration of the vague consciousness of
effort in the forming of our determinations, while in theory the
occurrence of effort is denied, in a remark of Mr. Mill, in his
Logic, when he says that " even in yielding to his temptations a
person may know that he could resist". But to "resist" a
temptation is to do something in the forming of our determina-
tion. Mr. Mill's explanation that in such a case " there would
not be required a stronger desire than the individual knows
himself to be capable of feeling!' is no description of what takes
place when we "resist" a temptation. When we resist a
temptation we do something to produce in ourselves the pre-
ponderating impulse to refrain from doing what we are tempted
Hedonism and Ultimate Good. 27
to do. And nothing of this kind could occur if our will to act
were at all times " given us without any efforts of ours ".
VI. We have thus obtained the object of our introspective
investigation. And the result turns out to be the reverse of
that which was looked for. It is, however, a result which may
be said to be scientifically certain ; for it has been obtained by
the process of observing and re-observing the facts of the sub-
ject, and its correctness is guaranteed by the facts, which may
be observed again and again, and have been so observed until
what may be called complete practical verification has been
obtained. While these facts were viewed and spoken of in
the confused and erroneous manner in which in various ways
they have been viewed and spoken of by philosophers and by
mankind in general, it was impossible that the mental process
by which we form determinations should be ascertained. It was
by obtaining step by step, and by slow degrees, correct and clear
perceptions of the nature of the mental facts which occur in this
process, that the process was analysed. And now that it is
analysed, the facts of it are seen to be extremely simple, although
they appeared mysterious and inscrutable before as all facts
are while they are not understood and cannot be pointed out.
Many highly important consequences follow from the correct
view of the subject which has thus been obtained, and many
comments upon it may be made. But the consideration of these
must be reserved. In the meantime, the reader has now before
him, so far, in a short compass, the result of years of careful in-
vestigation.
HENRY TRAVIS.
III. HEDONISM AND ULTIMATE GOOD.
IT has often been observed that systematic enquiry into the
nature of the Supreme End of human action, the Bomim or Sum-
mum Bonum, belongs almost exclusively to ancient ethical specu-
lation ; and that in modern ethics its place is supplied by an in-
vestigation of the fundamental Moral Laws, or Imperatives of
the Practical Eeason. While the ancients appear as chiefly
endeavouring to determine the proper ultimate object of rational
pursuit, the moderns are chiefly occupied in discussing the
basis and validity of a received code of rules, for the most part
restrictive rather than directive of human effort. But though
this difference has frequently been noticed, I am not aware that
any distinct explanation of it has ever been offered : while again
there are many s ; gns that ethical speculation in England has
reached a point at which this old question as to the nature of
28 Hedonism and Ultimate Good.
Ultimate Good again presents itself as fundamental. If these
si< T ns are not misleading, it will be interesting to ascertain, from
a comparison between ancient and modem thought, how far the
speculative excursion which has ended in conveying us back to
the old problem has brought us to face it from a new point of
view, and under new conditions.
When we compare the Greek investigation of Ultimate Good
with our own, we find an important difference in the very form
of the fundamental question. What we, as moralists, are
naturally led to seek, is the true account of general good ; for
most of us almost unhesitatingly assume that moral action, as
such, must have relation to universal ends. But for the Greek
moralist, the primary question as naturally and inevitably took
an egoistic form.* The Good which he studied was ' good for
himself/ or for any other individual philosophic soul, enquiring
after the true way of life. This difference is sufficiently obvious
and has been noticed by more than one writer; but it has
perhaps been somewhat obscured for modern readers by the
antithetical fact, to which more attention has been drawn, that
the political speculation of Greece differs from our own pre-
cisely in its non-individualistic character. There is really no
contradiction between the assumption in ethics of the agent's
private good as the ultimate determinant of rational action ;
and the assumption in politics of the good of the state without
regard to any ' natural rights ' of its component parts as the
ultimate end and standard of right political organisation.
Indeed it would not be difficult to show that the two assump-
tions naturally belong to the same stage in the development of
practical philosophy. Still they have somewhat tended to
confuse each other, through that blending of politics with ethics
in philosophical discussion which characterises the period from
Socrates to Aristotle ; and the confusion has been further
increased by the analogy between the Individual and the State,
which forms the basis of Plato's most famous treatise. This
very analogy, however, when carefully examined, brings out
most strikingly the characteristic which it, at first, tends to
obscure ; for the individual man being considered as a polity of
impulses, his good is made to consist essentially in the due
ordering of the internal relations of this polity, and is only
secondarily and indirectly realised in the relations of this
complex individual to other men. And in Aristotle's detailed
* This statement requires some qualification in so far as it concerns
Plato, on account of his peculiar ontology. Still this does not so much
affect the question Plato asked, as the answer he gave to it, and even
that only to a limited extent ; not (e. g.} in the Philebus, where the
a<ya6W investigated is just the av6pw7rivov a^nObv of Aristotle.
Hedonism and Ultimate Good. 29
analysis of the moral ideal of his age, the fundamental egoism
of the form in which it is conceived is continually illustrated,
in striking contrast to the modern tendency to regard " the
scope and object of ethics as altogether social ".* The limits
of Aristotle's Liberality are not determined by any consider-
ation of its effect on the welfare of its recipients, but by an
intuitive sense of the noble and graceful quality of expenditure
that is free without being too lavish; and his Courageous warrior
is not commended as devoting himself for his country, but as
attaining for himself, even amid pains and death, the peculiar
KctiCov of a courageous act.
No doubt we must bear in mind that this egoism is chiefly
formal. The orthodox moralist, from Prodicus to Chrysippus,
in recommending the preference of Virtue to Pleasure, is
substantially recommending the sacrifice of individual inclina-
tions to social claims ; and the explicit u communis utilitas
nostrte anteponenda" of later Stoicism, (which in this respect
forms a transition from the ancient point of view to the
modern), is no doubt implicit in the practical teaching of earlier
schools. Still the effect of the egoistic form is very clearly seen
in the actual course of ethical discussion. It rendered it
absolutely necessary for the orthodox moralist to settle the
relation of the individual's virtue to his Pleasure and Pain. A
modern moralist may leave this undetermined. He cannot of
course overlook the paramount influence of pleasure and pain,
in the actual determination of human actions ; and he must be
aware that the obtaining of future pleasure and the avoiding of
future pain constitute at least the chief part of the common
notion of ' happiness/ ' interest,' ' good on the whole/ or
whatever else we call the end which a prudent man, as such,
has in view. But he may regard the discussion of this as
bearing on the Sanctions of morality, not Morality itself ; that
is not on the theory of what duty is, but on the practical
question how a man is to be made to do his duty. The Greek,
however, who regarded the determination of the individual's good
as supplying the fundamental principle on which the whole code
of rules for reasonable conduct must ultimately depend, was
obliged at the outset to consider the popular view that this good
was Pleasure. He either, with the Cyrenaics and Epicureans,
accepted this view unreservedly, and held Virtue to be valuable
merely as a means to the enjoyment of the virtuous agent ; or,
with Zeno, he rejected it altogether, and maintained the intrinsic
valuelessness of pleasute ; or with Socrates, Aristotle, and Plato
in his soberer moods, he argued the inseparable connection of
the best and really pleasantest pleasure with the exercise of
*c/. MIND III., p. 341.
30 Hedonism and Ultimate Good.
virtue. The first position was offensive to the moral conscious-
ness ; the third imposed on it the necessity of proving what
could never be really proved without either dialectical tricks or
assumptions obviously transcending experience ; and it was not
surprising that the chief part of the moral earnestness of ancient
society was ultimately enlisted on the side of the second alter-
native. Still the inhuman severity of the paradox that ' pleasure
and pain are indifferent to the wise man/ never failed to have a
repellent effect ; and the imaginary rack on which an imaginary
sage had to be maintained in perfect happiness, was at any rate
a dangerous instrument of dialectical torment for the actual
philosopher.
Christianity extricated the moral consciousness from this
dilemma between base subserviency and inhuman indifference
to the feelings of the moral agent. It compromised the long
conflict between Virtue and Pleasure, by transferring to another
world the fullest realisation of both ; thus enabling orthodox
morality to assert itself, as reasonable and natural, without
denying the concurrent reasonableness and naturalness of the
individual's desire for bliss without alloy. Hence when in-
dependent ethical speculation recommences in England after the
Middle Ages, we find that the dualism if I may so say of the
Practical Reason, which Butler afterwards formulated, is really
implicit in all the orthodox replies to Hobbes. It is not denied
in these replies that man's ' natural good ' is pleasure, or that
the self-love which seeks the agent's greatest happiness is a
rational principle of action ; they are only concerned to maintain
the independent reasonableness of Conscience, and the objective
validity of moral rules derived from a quite other source than
the calculations of self-interest. Thus, for example, though in
Cumberland's view the ultimate end and rational basis of the
moral code is " commune bonum omnium ration alium," the
obligation of the code on each individual " rational " is imposed
" sub pcena felicitatis amittendae aut propter spem ejusdem
acquirendoe". And even Clarke, who is often thought to have
carried his argument for the independence of morality up to the
point of paradox, is yet after all found to make only the very
moderate claim " that Virtue deserves to be chosen for its own
sake, and Vice to be avoided, though a man was sure of his own
particular neither to gain nor lose anything by the practice of
either". But since in the actual world " the practice of vice is
accompanied with great temptations, and allurement of pleasure
and profit, and the practice of virtue is often attended with
great calamity, losses, and sometimes with death itself, this
alters the question," and, in fact, Clarke is of opinion, not only
that men under these circumstances will not always prefer
Hedonism and Ultimate Good. 31
Virtue to Vice, but also that " it is not very reasonably to be
expected that they should ". Butler, however, was the first to
give with perfect precision the differentia of what we may call
broadly the modern view of Ethics, in stating " reasonable
self-love and conscience" as the " two chief or superior princi-
ples in the nature of man " ; whereas it was a fundamental
assumption of all the schools of philosophy that sprang from
Socrates, that there is one naturally " chief or superior principle"
in every rational being which impels him to seek his own true
good.
It is true that, when any attempt is made to relieve Ethics of
its dependence on religion, the old difficulty as to the relation
of Virtue to Happiness recurs ; but it is no longer in the form
of a dispute as to the true nature of the object of rational
desire, but rather as the problem of reconciling the desire for
one's own Good good being more or less explicitly understood
to be pleasure, enjoyment, satisfaction, agreeable feeling of some
kind with the performance of what reason dictates as Duty.
This problem presents itself to most minds as of the very
profoundest importance ; and I cannot understand how any
moralist can turn aside from it, or treat it with indifference.
But I quite admit that its solution is not an essential pre-requi-
site of the construction of a moral code.
On what other principles, then, is this construction to be
attempted ? It appears to me that on this question there is far
more substantial agreement among English moralists than is com-
monly supposed ; and that the fundamental intuitions of con-
science or the practical reason on which one school have always
laid stress, are merely the expression in different aspects or
relations of that ideal subordination of individual impulses to
universal ends on which alone Utilitarianism, as a system of
ethics, can rationally rest. Thus the essence of Justice or
E<|uity, in so far as it is absolutely obligatory, is that different
individuals are not to be treated differently, except on grounds
of universal application : which grounds, again, are given in the
principle of Rational Benevolence, that sets before each man the
good of all others as an object of pursuit no less worthy than
his own ; while, again, other time-honoured virtues seem to be
fitly explained as special manifestations of impartial benevolence
under various normal circumstances of human life, or else as
habits and dispositions indispensable to the maintenance of
rational behaviour under the seductive force of various non-
rational impulses. I admit that there are other rules which our
common moral sense when first interrogated seems to enunciate
as absolutely binding ; but I contend that careful and systematic
reflection on this very Common Sense, as expressed in the
32 Hedonism and Ultimate Good.
habitual moral judgments of ordinary men, results in exhibit-
ing the real subordination of these rules to the fundamental
principles above given. Then, further, this method of syste-
matising particular virtues and duties receives very strong
support from a comparative study of the history of morality ;
as the variations in the moral code of different societies at
different stages correspond, at least generally, to differences in
the actual or believed tendencies of certain kinds of conduct to
promote the good of society. While, again, the account given
by our evolutionists of the pre-historic condition of the moral
faculty, which represents it as derived aboriginally from the
social instincts, is entirely in harmony with this view. This
convergence of several distinct arguments has had, I think, a
considerable effect on contemporary thought ; and probably a
large majority of reflective persons are now prepared to accept
' Common Good ' as the ultimate end for which moral rules
exist, and the standard by which they are to be co-ordinated
and their qualifications and mutual limitations determined.
There remains, no doubt, some difference of view between the
converging lines of speculation, as to the whole or community
of which the good is to be sought ; since from one point of view
we should state the end, in Cumberland's phrase, as the " Common
Good of Rational or Conscious Beings " ; while from another it
will be rather the good of the particular race of animals to
which we belong. But this difference is easily reduced to
latency in the idea of the Good of Humanity, and I do not
propose at present to dwell upon it.
But neglecting this, and fixing our attention on the notion of
Good, we have to ask whether this is less problematical in the
case of humanity generally than Socrates found it to be in the
case of the individual man. Have we not, after all, been simply
brought round to the point from which ethical speculation
started in Europe ? If we try to define the Good, how shall we
avoid revolving again through the old controversies ?
A little reflection will show that we have, at any rate, got rid
of one of the competing answers to the old question. We can-
not now explain the general Good to consist in general Virtue ;
that is in the general fulfilment of the prohibitions and prescrip-
tions of Common Sense morality. This would obviously involve
us in a logical circle ; as we have just settled that the ultimate
standard for determining these prohibitions and prescriptions is
just this general good.
Thus Pleasure, the other " competitor for the Aristeia," as Plato
says, is left without any rival of equally ancient prestige, and in
a far better position relatively to ordinary morality. For (1)
to regard Virtue merely as a means to the agent's private pleasure
Hedonism and Ultimate Good. 33
was undoubtedly offensive to the common moral consciousness of
mankind. But no similar offence is given by the explanation
of the Virtues as various forms and applications of Eational
Benevolence, or auxiliary habits (as Courage, Temperance, &c.),
necessary to the sustained and effective exercise of Eational
Benevolence, amid the various temptations and dangers of
human life ; while the exercise of Benevolence has always been
chiefly understood to mean giving pleasure to others and avert-
ing pain from them. And (2) we saw that when Self-love was
once clearly distinguished from Conscience, it was naturally
understood to mean desire for one's own pleasure ; accordingly
the interpretation of ' one's own good ' which was peculiar in
ancient thought to the Cyrenaic and Epicurean heresies, is
adopted among the moderns, not only by opponents of inde-
pendent and intuitive morality from Hobbes to Bentham, but
also by the most prominent and approved writers of the Intui-
tional School. Indeed, to many of these latter it never seems
to have occurred that this notion can have any other interpreta-
tion.* If, then, when any one hypothetically concentrates his
attention on himself, good is naturally and almost inevitably
conceived to be pleasure, it does not appear how the good of
any number of human beings, however organised into a com-
munity, can be essentially different.
This, then, appears to me to be, in outline, the case for modern
Utilitarianism or Universalistic Hedonism, as a study of the
history of ethical thought presents it to us. I must now
notice briefly the rival doctrines as to the nature of Good
which seem to be chiefly maintained at the present time. It
appears that Hedonism is attacked from two different points
of view, which we may, perhaps, without offence, distinguish
as Materialistic and Idealistic ; each claiming to substitute an
objective standard for the subjective criterion of 'amount of agree-
able feeling'. I use ' Materialistic ' to denote the view which
considers individual men and human societies as Organisms, the
condition and functioning of which can be ascertained by external
observation, and pronounced good or bad without reference to the
series of pleasurable or painful feelings whicli accompany such
functioning. We thus seem to obtain a notion of Well-being or
Welfare which may be substituted for Happiness as the ultimate
end and standard of right action. Perhaps the notion may be
more clearly explained by saying that it is obtained by extending
to a race or a community of animals the idea of Health, as com-
monly attributed to an individual man. In an article in MIND,
No. I., I mentioned that this view was incidentally adopted- by
Mr. Darwin in his chapter on the Moral Sense in his Descent of
* Of. Stewart, Philosophy of the Active and Moral I'owers, B. II., c. 1.
3
34 Hedonism and Ultimate Good.
Man ; and it seems to have been enthusiastically accepted and
more fully developed by some of Mr. Darwin's disciples, among
whom I may count Mr. Pollock, who replied to my article in
No. III. of this journal. I have studied Mr. Pollock's courteous
and carefully written answer, and am still unable to see exactly
how he deals with the following dilemma. Either this notion
of Well-being is entirely resolvable into ' conditions tending to
preservation,' or it includes something more. If the latter be
admitted, we have to ask what is this something more which
distinguishes well-being from mere being. In one place, Mr.
Pollock seems to say that it is something at present undefmable :
to which I can only answer, in Aristotle's words, that if we
cannot get even a proximate definition of it, we shall be " as
archers without a mark, rather unlikely to attain the needful ".
If, however, he falls back on the former alternative, as certainly
other writers of his school seem disposed to do, and says that
well-being is merely " Being with the promise of future being,"
he surely comes into irreconcileable conflict with common sense.
I do not wish to exaggerate this conflict. I admit that the
most important part of the function of morality consists in
maintaining habits and sentiments which seem necessary to the
continued existence, in full numbers, of a society of human
beings under actual circumstances ; and that this part may
easily be regarded as the whole, if w T e consider morality merely
as a code of restrictive regulations the aspect which has been
most prominent in modern times. But this maintenance of
preservative habits and sentiments surely does not exhaust our
ideal of good or desirable human life. We are not content witli
mere Being, however secured in continuance, for ourselves or
for those we love or, in so far as we are philanthropists, for
humanity generally. What we demand more, may be expressed
by the general notion of Culture ; and though some part of
what is included in this notion may fairly be interpreted as
Preservative Tendencies, there is surely much that cannot
possibly be so interpreted. If the Hedonistic view of Culture,
as consisting in the development of susceptibilities for refined
pleasure of various kinds, be rejected, it must be in favour of
what I have called the Idealistic view : in which we regard
the ideal objects on the realisation of which our most refined
pleasures depend Knowledge, or Beauty in its different forms, or
a certain ideal of human relations (whether thought of as
Freedom or otherwise) as constituting in themselves ultimate
Good, apart from the pleasures which depend upon their pursuit
and attainment. I do not propose at present to criticise this
view, chiefly because I am not acquainted with any philoso-
phical exposition of it sufficiently coherent and systematic
Hedonism and Ultimate Good. 35
to invite criticism ; though it seems to be pretty widely accepted
among cultivated persons, and more or less definitely suggested
in the anti-hedonistic arguments of certain philosophical writers.
But it may be well to define clearly the manner in which
Hedonism, as I conceive it, deals with this view.
The Hedonistic argument against the assumption of ' objec-
tive ' ultimate ends, just as that against particular moral rules
of absolute validity, seems to me to consist necessarily of two
parts. It appeals to the immediate intuition of reflective
persons ; and secondly to the results of a comprehensive com-
parison of the ordinary judgments of mankind. The second
argument comes in rather by way of confirmation of the first^
and obviously cannot be made completely cogent ; since, as
above stated, several cultivated persons do habitually judge that
certain ideal goods are ends independently of the pleasure
derived from them. But we may urge not only that all these
ideal goods are productive of pleasure in various ways ; but also
that they seem to obtain the commendation of Common Sense,
roughly speaking, in proportion to the degree of this productive-
ness. This seems obviously true of Beauty ; and will hardly be
denied in respect of any kind of social ideal, for it is surely para-
doxical to maintain that any degree of Freedom, or any form of
social order would be desirable even if it tended to impair,
instead of promoting, the general happiness. The case of
Knowledge is rather more complex ; but certainly Common
Sense is most impressed with the value of knowledge, when its
' fruitf ulness ' has been demonstrated. It is, however, aware
that experience has frequently shown how knowledge, long
fruitless, may become unexpectedly fruitful, and how light m;iv
be shed on one part of the field of knowledge from another
apparently remote : and even if any particular branch of scien-
tific pursuit could be shown to be devoid of even this indirect
utility, it would still deserve some respect on utilitarian grounds ;
both as furnishing to the enquirer the refined and innocent
pleasures of curiosity, and because the intellectual disposition
which it exhibits and sustains, is likely on the whole to produce
fruitful knowledge. Still in cases approximating to this latter^
Common Sense is somewhat disposed to complain of the
misdirection of valuable effort ; so that the meed of honour
commonly paid to Science seems to be graduated, though perhaps
unconsciously, by a tolerably exact utilitarian scale. Certainly
the moment the legitimacy of any branch of scientific enquiry
is seriously disputed, as in the recent case of vivisection, the
controversy on both sides is conducted on an avowedly utili-
tarian basis. Nor does it really make against Hedonism that
knowledge and other ideal ends are often most energetically
36 Hedonism and Ultimate Good.
pursued by persons who do not think of the resulting happiness ;
if, as experience seems to show, both the concentration of effort
needed for success, and the disposition most favourable to
enjoyment, are promoted by this limitation of aim. Nor, finally,
need the Hedonist be surprised that the enthusiasm of these
pursuits should occasionally prompt to the affirmation that their
ends are worthy to be chosen per se, even if the pursuits should
result in a balance of pain over pleasure. He is only concerned
to maintain that, when in a mood of calm reflection we distin-
guish these ideal objects from the feelings inseparably connected
with them, it is the quality of these latter which we see to be
the ultimate end of rational desire.
This last proposition I do not find exactly denied, in the
terms in which I have stated it ; but an answer is made to it by
some writers, which, if valid at all, is certainly conclusive,
though indirect. It is said, for example, by Mr. Green* that
" pleasure as feeling, in distinction from its conditions which are
not feelings, cannot be conceived " ; and therefore, of course,
cannot be taken as an end of rational action. Whatever
plausibility this argument possesses, seems to depend on that
ambiguity in the term ' conceive/ which has caused so much
confusion in recent philosophical debate. To adopt an old
comparison, Mr. Green's proposition is neither more nor less
true than the statement that an angle cannot be ' conceived '
apart from its sides. That is, we cannot form the notion of an
angle without the notion of sides containing it ; but this does not
hinder us from apprehending with perfect definiteness the
magnitude of any angle as greater, equal, or less than that of
any other, without any comparison of the pairs of containing
sides. Similarly, we cannot form the notion of any pleasure
existing apart from some " conditions which are not feelings " ;
but we can perfectly well compare a pleasure felt under any
given conditions with any other, however otherwise conditioned,
and pronounce it equal or unequal ; and we surely require no
more than this to enable us to take ' amount of pleasure ' as
our standard for deciding between alternatives of conduct.
Mr. Green, however has another argument against the ' great-
est happiness' doctrine, which it will be desirable briefly to
notice ; especially since it also supplies the heavy artillery in an
elaborate attack on Hedonism in Mr. Bradley's Ethical Studies
(noticed in the last number of this journal). I will give it in
Mr. Green's words taken from the passage quoted above :
* I quote this sentence from Mr. Green's Introduction to the YoL II. of
Hume's Trcntisc on Humdn Nature, p. 9 ; but I have found the same argu-,
inent used in almost the same words by other writers of the same school.
Of. (e.g.} Prof. Caird in Academy, June 12, 1874.
Hedonism and Ultimate Good. 37
"Happiness 'in its full extent,' as 'the utmost pleasure we are
capable of,' is an unreal abstraction, if ever there was one. It is
curious that those who are most forward to deny the reality of uni-
versals in that sense in which they are the condition of all reality,
viz., as relations, should yet, having pronounced these to be mere names,
be found ascribing reality to a universal, which cannot, without
contradiction, be supposed more than a name. Does this ' happiness
in its full extent' mean the ' aggregate of possible enjoyment,' of
which modem utilitarians tell us 1 Such a phrase simply represents
the vain attempt to get a definite by addition of indefinites. It has no
more meaning than ' the greatest possible quantity of time ' would
have. Pleasant feelings are not quantities that can be added. Each
is over before the next begins, and the man who has been pleased a
million times is not really better off has no more of the supposed
chief good in possession than the man who has only been pleased a
thousand times. When we speak of pleasures, then, as forming a
possible whole, we cannot mean pleasures as feelings."
We may admit that if any one supposed that his 'greatest
happiness ' was something that could be possessed all at once,
it would be important to explain to him that it was composed of
elements which could only be had successively. But I must
confess myself quite unable to see how it thereby becomes
impossible for him to aim at it. The paradoxical character of
Mr. Green's argument cannot be better shown than by taking
the very analogy which he selects to enforce it. In what sense
is it true that ' greatest possible quantity of time ' has no
meaning ? Since when has it been not merely wrong but
logically impossible to make prolongation of life an end of
voluntary effort ? And what is 'length of days,' but 'the greatest
possible quantity of time' relatively to the individual looking for-
ward ? If it is only meant that we cannot have time by itself,
without some filling of time, this is of course true; just as it is true
that we cannot have pleasure without the conditions on which
it depends. But because Time is an abstraction, it is not there-
fore unreal, nor incapable of furnishing an end of action ; we
can aim at living as long as possible, without any regard to
the manner of our living ; and if we turn out centenarians, we
shall commonly be thought to have succeeded in our aim. A
fortiori we can aim at living as pleasantly as possible, without
any regard to the inseparable concomitants of our 'greatest
possible happiness.' Mr. Green seems to assume that because
the parts of Time, and of whatever has Time for its fundamental
form, must exist successively, it is therefore illegitimate to
conceive them as parts at all ; that a ' happy week,' or a
' miserable month/ is something " which cannot without contra-
diction be supposed more than a name," merely because we
cannot have a happy week all in one moment ! Surely this is
38 Kant's Space and Modern Matlicmatics.
as singular a metaphysical whim as ever entered into the head
of a scholastic philosopher.
I have selected these two arguments for discussion, because
they are of a kind that admits of summary treatment. They
are either completely cogent or totally valueless ; and it does
not require many words to enable the reader to decide which
view to take. The case is different with other anti-hedonistic
topics, such as the difficulties of estimating the amount of pleasure
or pain, comparing the amount of different pleasures, &c. It is,
on the one hand, impossible not to allow a certain weight to
such objections : on the other hand, they hardly even claim to
be decisive ; and, in fact, seem rather directed against the prac-
ticability of .constructing a Hedonistic Calculus, than against the
truth of the Hedonistic doctrine as to the nature of Ultimate
Good.
H. SIDGWICK.
IV. KANT'S SPACE AND MODERN MATHEMATICS.
The remarkable modern speculations concerning non-Euclidean
sorts of space, of which Prof. Helmholtz gave some account in
No. III. of MIND, are likely to be hailed as one of the chief
difficulties with which the Kantian theory of space will have to
deal. " If we can imagine such spaces of other softs," that
learned writer tells us, "it cannot be maintained that the
axioms of geometry are necessary consequences of an a priuri
transcendental' form of intuition, as Kant thought ".
Before attempting to answer this argument, let me briefly
point out a fundamental error that appears to hinder many
adepts of positive science from realising the true nature of
problems belonging to the theory of knowledge, or critical
metaphysics.
In our wanderings on the border between science and
philosophy w r e are apt to forget that it is impossible to move
on both sides of the boundary line at once, and that whoever
crosses it shifts his problem as well as his method. In physics
(taking the word in its widest sense) we must adopt a standard
of truth, which in philosophy is the very thing to be settled.
When a sufficient amount of accurate observation has been
digested by correct reasoning, we hold the result to be the
adequate expression of real existence. We admit a real
world, independent of all appearance to anybody's sense or
reason, and take for its exact counterpart the world that offers
itself to the mens sana in corpore sano after exhausting all
the means of research at the command of mankind. Science
Kant's Space and Modern Mathematics. 39
has no suspicion of a distinction between 'objectivity' and
' reality'.
Of course the object of science is not altogether the same
with that of popular belief. In every-day life we consider as
real objects such things as appear to our senses, corrected by
reasoning in the rough, as the blue firmament, the earth at rest,
&c. In science the real object is what appears to be to the
experienced mind attaining the very limit of its powers, and
sensible phenomena sink into mere signs of the presence of
certain objects. By interpretation of these signs the real
object is attained. And if many a theory of the present day
will probably be modified by ulterior investigation, still we are
moving towards the end of representing the real object as it is.
Yet the real object of science has so much at least in com-
mon with that of ordinary life as is wanted for the purposes of
measuring and calculation. It retains the space and time, the
motion and, to a certain extent, even the matter and force of
popular belief. It is not the object of pure thought, evolved
from principles presupposed by necessity in every act of
tlii nking, but of thought as applied to data of sense. However
simplified by abstraction, it always bears the traces of its
sensible origin.
In geometry proper, or constructive geometry (including
stereometry), a great many qualities of things are disregarded,
while it only attends to the space in which bodies appear to
exist and move. But, however shorn of qualities, its object is
imagined as something to a certain extent analogous to what we
see and touch. Hence its teachings may be assisted by diagrams
and models, not mere conventional signs like those of arith-
metic or logic. Because it takes from sense-intuition only the
very first data, which are the same whatever part of our experi-
ence we proceed from, it assumes the aspect of a purely deductive
science like arithmetic. Nevertheless its empirical basis may
be shown by its inability to construct, for instance, an aggregate
of four dimensions. Its real object is that of physics and of
common life, considered exclusively as to the metrical propor-
tions of figures imaginable in its space. To demand logical
proof for genuine geometrical axioms is a mistake, because every
proof must proceed from some ultimate premisses, which in this
case must concern space. There are no data about space either
in logic or arithmetic, but only in our sense-intuition, and
precisely the data expressed in those axioms.
The algebraical geometry of modern science is algebra, a
more general form of arithmetic, a series of speculations con-
cerning quantities. Its sole connection with geometry is the
understanding that the quantities it considers are meant as
40 Kant's Space and Modern Mathematics.
quantities of geometrical data; but this understanding is not
embodied in the algebraical symbols themselves. As we learn
from Prof. Helmholtz (I.e. p. 309), time as well as a line may
be regarded here as an aggregate of one dimension, and the
system of colours as an aggregate of three dimensions. The
formulae and their analysis remain the same whether the aggre-
gates be assumed to be spatial ones or of a different nature.
Hence it is possible to pursue the chain of inference far beyond
the limits of any geometrical interpretation, and even, by vary-
ing the premisses in which we express certain geometrical data,
to prepare formulae that would apply to spaces foreign to our
experience, provided any such could be conceived by the human
imagination. The proof in this case is entirely logical : sup-
posing certain relations of quantities, certain other relations
must be admitted also, or there would be an end to all our
thinking. However, the link between such a system of infer-
ences and its application to qualities of either objective or
assumed space is not comprehended in the system itself, but
supplied from without, and it remains to be seen how much of
the algebraical system will bear translation into geometry.
Now, when we aim at a theory of knowledge and enter into
discussion with such thinkers as Berkeley, Hume or Kant, we
find ourselves on a ground quite different from that of either
physics or geometry. The notions of ' objectivity ' and
' reality/ hitherto equivalent, must be carefully kept asunder,
or else it becomes impossible even to understand the questions
at issue. We must be prepared to examine opinions like these :
that there is nothing real except mind, whereas space and bodies
are merely its object ; or that besides mind there is a reality,
impressing it so as to produce an object wholly dissimilar from
the reality itself. Again, if admitting impressions from without,
we may have to enquire in how far the object is dependent on
these and on. the constitution of the mind respectively. If it
were established beyond all doubt that the ' object ' and the
' real ' are one and the same, all examination of such questions
and theories would become an empty ceremony, and the para-
doxes of Idealism absurdities unworthy of our notice. But as
things are now, results of scientific research involving that as-
sumption cannot be rightly employed as evidence against philoso-
phical tenets that disclaim its validity.
For a scientific man fresh from physiology of the senses, it is
hard to keep in mind that the perceiving, imagining and think-
ing ' subject ' of philosophy is not altogether the same as that
with which he had to deal in his former pursuits. There he
considered it as a unity of body and mind, one of a class of
objects in the World we observe. Here it is nothing more titan
Kant's Space and Modern Mathematics. 41
the correlative of every object whatever, the observer and
thinker opposed to them all. Unaccustomed to this kind of
abstraction, the student of nature speedily rounds it off into the
full anthropos of physiology, not being aware that he has crossed
the fatal border; and much of the reasoning current in his own
domain is no longer acceptable as lawful tender.
From geometry proper, there is an easy transit into meta-
physics, by the road of analytical geometry, which science has
but a conventional connection with the data of intuition, and
merges into pure arithmetic. In order to determine the rela-
tions between construction and analysis, some will attempt to
reduce the latter to an abstraction from the sensible object like
geometry, while others try to explain the foundations of
geometry as necessities of thought unassisted by the senses.
Both theories belong to the province of Philosophy ; but from
the familiar intercourse between mathematics and natural
science, it is evident that Science has a great chance of being
called in as arbiter and usurping the office without suspicion.
In the present case, the first question is whether any sort of
space besides the space of Euclid be capable of being imagined.
More than three dimensions, it is allowed, we are quite unable
to represent. But we are told of spherical and pseudospherical
space, and non-Euclideans exert all their powers to legitimate
these as space by making them imaginable. We do not find
that they succeed in this, unless the notion of imaginability
be stretched far beyond what Kantians and others understand
by the word. To be sure, it is easy to imagine a spherical
surface as a construction in Euclid's space ; but we vainly
attempt to get an intuition of a solid standing in the same
relation to that surface as our own solids stand to the plane. A
pseudospherical surface we may imagine ; but then it is bounded
by one or two edges. Nor is it of any avail to draw (as we are
told) a piece from the edge back to the middle, and then continue
it. This very operation betrays that the continuity of such a sur-
face beyond the edge is not imaginable. We may cloak our per-
plexity by special phrases, saying that only limited strips of the
surface can be " connectedly represented in our space," while it
may yet be "thought of as infinitely continued in all direc-
tions". The former is just w r hat is commonly understood by
being 'imagined,' whereas being 'thought of does not imply
imagination any more than in the case of, say, V 1. And
when we are assured that Beltrami has rendered relations in
pseudospherical space of three dimensions imaginable by a
process which substitutes straight lines for curves, planes for
curved surfaces, and points on the surface of a finite sphere for
42 Kant's Space and Modern Mathematics.
infinitely distant points, we might as well believe that a cone is
rendered sufficiently imaginable to a pupil by merely showing
its projection upon a plane as a circle or a triangle. Just the
characteristic features of the thing we are to imagine must be
done away with, and all we are able to grasp with our intuition
is a translation of that thing into something else. As to the
image in a convex mirror, referred to by Prof. Helmholtz in
his article, we do not mentally contrast it with our objective
world in Euclidean space, but only with the habitual
aspect of that world as seen from a given point of view.
In the latter also things appear to contract as they retire
to a distance. Only we have learned to conceive the objec-
tive space as one in which we ourselves are able to move
in all directions and shift our point of view at pleasure. So
with some practice we actually see those things not growing
smaller, but moving away from the place where we may happen
to be. The world in the mirror offers itself as a novel aspect of
the same world, needing a larger amount of practice for its
interpretation, because complicated by unwonted circumstances.
As a form of the objective world, which remains the same from
whatever point we inspect it, we can imagine, not any space in
which motion implies flattening or change of form of any kind,
but only the space known from our sense-experience, the space
of Euclid. All other 'space' contrived by human ingenuity
may be an aggregate with fictitious properties and a consistent
algebraical analysis of its own, but space it is called only by
courtesy.
Even admitting for a moment that our mind is capable of
imagining different sorts of space, it might still be maintained
that the only possible form of actual intuition for a mind like
ours, as affected by real things outside of it, is Euclidean space.
When we hold the origin of our geometrical axioms to be em-
pirical, it does not follow that a real space must be assumed as
being transported in some way through organs of sense into the
percipient mind. Of experience itself there are different ex-
planations, as far as explanations go. Granted that I take
my ' flat space ' from my perceptions, and these are forced upon
me by something not myself, variety of perceptions ought to
originate in a variety of outward impulses. But then percep-
tion may be, for aught I know, wholly dissimilar in nature from
both the impulse and that which produced the impulse, as the
perception of red or blue is believed to be the effect of certain
undulations in the optic nerve, produced in their turn by the
waves termed light, and yet not to be compared with either.
Our intuition of space may be empirical without a real space to
correspond, provided there be any reality whatever compelling the
Kant's Space and Modern Mathematics. 43
mind to exert its native powers in constructing space as we
know it, which the mind would not do unless so compelled. In
that case space, Euclid's space, would remain a form of intuition,
a priori and transcendental.
We read that " geometrical axioms must vary according to
the kind of space inhabited ". Why this must be, one cannot
understand, unless it be proved first, which is not proved at all,
that space as represented by a sentient being is necessarily a
copy of a space in which it lives and moves. Even if we
suppose that the subject resides in a real space, and that its
intuitions of space depend entirely on what it perceives, the
question remains, how much of its perception is due to the
constitution of the subject itself, and how much to impressions
from the outer world ? Also, what is the relation between those
impressions and the spatial arrangement of that world ? The
space represented on the faith of perception might yet be
different from the real space. Nay, on the popular empirical
ground taken by physiology, the proposition is a disputable one.
Dr. Mises (Prof. Fechner), in one of his witty paradoxes of
thirty years ago, reprinted last year in his Kleine Schriften,
supposed reasoning beings of two dimensions only, like the men
we see in the camera obscura, who move together with the
plane which they inhabit through a third dimension, and per-
ceive that movement only as a continued series of changes in
their superficial universe. By analogy he started the hypothesis
of a fourth dimension through which we might be moving our-
selves. Now we know that analytical geometry is ready to
grapple with any number of dimensions,* though they can never
be imagined. These plane-people of Mises are quite as imagin-
able as the sphere-dwellers of Prof. Helmholtz. They would
really exist in a space of three dimensions, inhabiting two of
them and moving through the third, yet perceiving but two of
them as dimensions. So would the sphere-dwellers ; for the
surface of a sphere means either nothing at all, or the boundary
of a solid of three dimensions. Only in their case the third
dimension would influence their intuition by preventing them,
for instance, from ever gathering experience of parallel lines and
geometrical similarity between figures of different size.-f- How-
ever, as our mathematicians succeed in explaining properties of
spaces unknown to our experience, even of those of four and
* Of. the Ausdehnungtlelm of Hermann Grassmann.
t Unless, indeed, they were small enough to perceive only a very
limited portion of their surface, which might easily impress them as flat,
as our earth did the first Greek philosophers. We need not stop to
inquire whether we ourselves ever get sen* e- experience of undoubtedly
parallel lines. Nevertheless such are constructible out of primary
elements supplied by sense-intuition.
44 Kant's Space and Modern Mathematics.
more dimensions, there is no reason to deny the same faculty
to our imaginary surface-men. As all straightest lines on a
sphere end by meeting somewhere, why should they not for
once suppose a different surface, on which straightest lines
might be drawn in any direction so as to retain the same
distance to infinity, and, reasoning on this and a few more sup-
positions, discover the analytical geometry of the plane ? Com-
bining this with their original spherical theorems, some genius
among them might conceive the bold hypothesis of a third
dimension, and demonstrate that actual observations are per-
fectly explained by it. Henceforth there would be a double set
of geometrical axioms ; one the same as ours, belonging to
science, and another resulting from experience in a spherical
surface only, belonging to daily life. The latter would express
the ' object ' of sense-intuition ; the former, ' reality,' incapable of
being represented in empirical space, but perfectly capable of
being thought of and admitted by the learned as real, albeit
different from the space inhabited.
The ' rigidity ' ascribed to geometrical figures is hardly to be
considered as a physical quality. A physical solid, say an india-
rubber ball, may be thought of as being flattened to a spheroid
or a disc, and still retain its identity, because the matter remains
the same. It would be perfectly rigid in a physical sense, if its
form were unchangeable by any external force whatever. But
a geometrical sphere is the same only as long as both its form
and size remain what they are. The rigidity is not resistance
against force, but simple identity with itself. We might con-
ceive a spheroid of the same volume, and an unbroken series of
spheroids between it and the sphere ; so by analogy with the
physical body we might say that the sphere was gradually
flattened to the ultimate form in the series. Still in the geo-
metrical sense there would be no identity between the sphere
and any of the spheroids, because here matter is wanting, but
only a successive substitution of something else instead of the
primitive figure. If we apply one sphere to another, and find
out their congruence or the reverse, the meaning is not that a
physically rigid body is to be transported through all the inter-
vening parts of space. The purpose is answered as well by
mentally cancelling the old sphere, and constructing a new one
on the same principle and with the same radius, so that its
centre coincide with that of the sphere to be compared with it.
In the case of mechanical science deciding that two bodies
must have varied in the same sense during such an operation,
the inference would be that the consequences of geometrical
application of figures to each other can never be verified by
actual experience on physical bodies for that reason, to say
Kant's Space and Modern Mathematics. 45
nothing of their impenetrability. But geometry would declare
bodies liable to vary, to be different from its own solids. Of
course, its own abstract notions of space and figure may be
supplemented at pleasure by taking into account time of move-
ment, or a concept of matter just sufficient to distinguish a
filled part of space from an empty one. In the former case we
come to phoronomy, in the latter to mixed geometrical specula-
tions about bodies capable of contractions and distensions.
Such speculations are as lawful as what most people understand
by geometry, and it appears that physicists find them useful
for their ulterior purposes. Only they must not be confounded
with the doctrine of space and its measures, in which a solid is
simply a part of space of a certain form and size, a surface the
boundary between such parts and so on. These parts of space
it would be absurd to consider as changeable, whatever experi-
ence may affirm concerning physical bodies that move< in space.
It is certainly true in one sense, that the axioms of geometry
"merely define what qualities and deportment a body must
have to be recognised as rigid ". But this regards geometry as
applicable to bodies or material things ; its own solids are not
meant either to have or to lack physical rigidity.
Nevertheless geometrical axioms are synthetic propositions,
because they are not to be deduced by pure logic from the de-
finition of their subject-terms, but are found by intuition of the
space offered to us as a form of our objective world. As far as we
know, that world audits space could be quite different from what
they are, were it not for sense-experience which supplies the first
elements of construction, and reflection which constructs figures
and examines them as if actually seen. The axioms of geometiy
proper are discoveries resulting from the contemplation of objec-
tive space by itself; as soon as we add the empirical elements
of movement, properly so called, of bodies filling space, &c., we
stand upon another ground.
To conclude these observations, the Kantian theory of space, 1
as defined by Prof. Helmholtz himself, contains three distinct
assertions :
(.) Space is a form of intuition : any conception of ours must
be imaginable to be what we call space. [This is admitted by
the opponents ; only non-Euclideans try to make imaginable
that which is not so in the sense required for argumentation in
this case.]
(6.) Space is a form a priori : a native form of our perceptive
faculty, not a datum passively received from without. [The
opponents attempt to refute this by proving the empirical origin
of our notions of space. Between this proof and the refutation
46 Kant's Space and Modern Mathematics.
of Kant's assertion there is wanting the proof that empirical
knowledge is acquired by simple importation or by counterfeit,
and not by peculiar operations of the mind solicited by varied
impulses from an unknown reality.]
(c.) Space is a transcendental form : belonging to our own object
by some necessity arising from the unknown constitution of our
mind ; but not therefore belonging to the real world as well.
[The opponents overlook the distinction between ' objectivity '
and ' reality/ and reason, as they would do in physical science,
on the tacit supposition of the two being identical, and Kant's
assertion disproved beforehand.]
After this, the final propositions of the article in question
would have to be modified as follows :
(1.) The axioms of geometry, taken by themselves out of all
connection with mechanical propositions, represent no relations
of physical objects. When strictly isolated, if we regard them
with Kant as forms of intuition transcendentally given, they con-
tribute a form into which any empirical content whatever will fit,
and which therefore does not in any way limit or determine be-
forehand the mature of that content. In other words, axioms con-
cerning parts of space do not determine the deportment of bodies
filling such parts at a given moment. We may admit that this
would hold true if the axioms given were those of spherical or
pseudospherical geometry ; however, the (possibly transcendental)
form of intuition actually given is that analysed in Euclid's
axioms.
(2.) As soon as certain principles of mechanics are conjoined
with the axioms of geometry, we obtain a system of propositions
which has full objective or physical import, and which can be
verified or overturned by fresh sense-observations, as from
sense-experience it can be inferred. If such a system were to
be taken as a transcendental form of intuition and thought,
there must be assumed a constancy of laws determining the
relations between the mind's objects and the impulses which it
receives from an unknown reality.
J. P. K LAND.
LEYDEN, Sept. 30, 1876.
V._ FUNDAMENTAL LOGIC.
AT least three distinct views are possible of the relation
between logic and mathematics. Mathematics may be regarded
as a special application of logic ; or logic may be regarded as
a branch of mathematics * ; or the two may be regarded as co-
ordinate sciences.
I regard the ordinary logic as a co-ordinate science with
mathematics : but I further maintain that the ordinary logic
on the one hand, and mathematics on the other, are two sepa-
rate developments of a simpler logic than any which has been
usually recognised.
It appears to be admitted by all, that the fundamental rela-
tion in mathematics is equality ; and it appears to be generally
thought that the fundamental relation corresponding to this in
the ordinary logic is identity. I dispute this latter position.
I maintain that the fundamental relation of the ordinary logic
is not identity, but co-existence. But mathematics, or the logic
of equality, and the ordinary logic, or the logic of co-existence,
both rest on the simplest and most elementary logic, which is
that of identity.
John Stuart Mill is the only writer known to me who has
clearly seen that the ordinary logic rests not on identity but on
co-existence. His system is, in substance, an application of the
principles of the ordinary logic to the actual work of discovery
and proof; and, seeing that the axioms of identity and contra-
diction are by themselves able to carry the reasoner but a little
way, he proposes as the canon of his logic the axiom that
" things which co-exist with the same thing co-exist with each
other". His treatment of formal logic is, however, unsatisfac-
tory, t>r at least incomplete, and I must say a few words in
defence of the position that the syllogistic reasoning of the
ordinary logic really depends on this axiom.
The relations with which the ordinary logic deals are those
of the inclusion of one class in another, and of individuals in
classes; and when it is reconstructed by treating propositions
as equations, the relations with which it deals are those of the
total or partial identity of classes.
For my present purpose it will be best to instance a case of
* Mr. Venn, in his very lucid exposition of Boole's Logical System in
MIND No. IV., says (p. 480) : " The prevalent notion about Boole pro-
bably is, that he regarded Logic as a branch of Mathematics ; that, in
fact, he simply applied mathematical rules to logical problems. This
is a very natural mistake." If it is a mistake, Boole is himself answer-
able for it. The full-length title of his great work is An Investigation of
ike Laws of Thought, on which are founded the mathematical theories of
Logic and Probabilities.
48 Fundamental Logic.
total identity. In the ordinary logic, as modified by ' quanti-
fying the predicate/ the following would be regarded as a
proposition of total identity : " The things having inertia are
the same as the things having gravity." But it may be much
better stated as a proposition of co-existence, thus : " Inertia
and gravity always co-exist." I do not lay any stress on the
evident truth that the latter mode of expression appears much
more natural; but I say that the proposition, though it may
with perfect accuracy be stated as one of identity, is essentially
and primarily one of co-existence. Inertia is in no sense iden-
tical with gravity.
All propositions asserting the inclusion of one class within
another, may in like manner be shown to be really propositions
asserting co-existence. Thus the proposition, " Chlorine is an
imperfect gas," according to the view of the ordinary logic,
asserts that " The species chlorine is included in the class of
imperfect gases ". But if we make no postulate as to the exis-
tence of such a class, and state the proposition in its utmost
possible simplicity, it becomes the following : " With the
differentia of chlorine (consisting in its colour and its chemical
reactions) the (physical) properties of an imperfect gas co-exist."
In Boole's and Jevons's logical systems, propositions are
written as mathematical equations, and the co-existence of
qualities is symbolised by the combination of terms. If we
call inertia x and gravity y, the identity of the things having
inertia and those having gravity is asserted by the equation,
x = y : but if we interpret x and y to mean, not the things
having the qualities, but the qualities themselves, then the
copula = will mean not identity but co-existence, and the
equation will assert the invariable co-existence of the qualities.
In Jevons's notation,* which for its purpose appears abso-
lutely perfect, if x means chlorine and y an imperfect gas, then
the equation x = xy asserts that chlorine is an imperfect gas.
If, further, z means freely soluble in water, the equation y = yz
asserts that imperfect gases are freely soluble in water ; and the
syllogism whereby, from these two premisses, we infer that
chlorine is freely soluble in water, is expressed as follows :
x = xy ; y = yz ; therefore, x = xyz = xz.
Boole appears to recognise the existence of no simpler logic
than that of co-existence, for he begins his system by stating
the laws of the combination of terms. He uses 1 as the symbol
for " all," and 1 a; is consequently his expression for whatever is
* See his Principles of Science. Jevons, however, uses the capitals
A, B, nnd C, where I follow Boole in using the small italics x, y, and z.
I prefer to make logical equations look as like mathematical ones as
possible.
Fundamental Logic. 49
not-#. In logic, as in mathematics, the equation \x = x is thus
true of all values of x. He places at the commencement of his
system the two following equations, which are his expressions of
the laws of identity and contradiction: x 2 = x, anda; (1 x) = 0.
The first of these asserts that, if a term be combined with itself,
the result is the same as if it remained uncombined : thus,
" heavy, heavy things " are the same as " heavy things". The
second asserts that a term and its negative cannot be combined :
thus, things which are at once heavy and not heavy cannot
exist. These two equations, which in logic are true of all
terms whatever, are in mathematics true only of terms having
the values of 1 and 0.
Boole (Laws of Thought, pp. 49, 50) calls attention to the fact,
that these equations, expressing the fundamental laws of thought,
are equations of the second degree. This is so surprising a
result, that it ought to excite a suspicion, not indeed of the
accuracy of Boole's expression of these laws, but of the truth of
the assumption that they are what is simplest and most elemen-
tary in logic. I maintain that there is a more elementary logic
than Boole's : a logic in which there are no combined terms, and
consequently no equations except those of the first degree ; no
operations except addition and subtraction ; no interpretation of
the copula except simple identity ; and of which the axioms are
true not only in logic but in mathematics.
In what follows I must request the reader to bear in mind
that the word identity is used in the sense not only of total but
of partial identity, so as to include the relation of a part to
the whole.
When expressed in language, the propositions and syllogisms
of the logic of identity are similar in form to those of the old
logic. The old logic deals chiefly with such cases as the inclu-
sion of class within class ; but the same or similar forms will
express the inclusion of a part in the whole, or of a constituent
in the compound. The following are examples : " The anther is
a part of the flower ; the flower is a part of the tree ; therefore,
the anther is a part of the tree." " Hydrogen is a constituent of
water ; water is a constituent of albumen ; therefore, hydrogen
is a constituent of albumen." It may be thought that the
distinction between propositions of co-existence and of identity
is one of interpretation only, and does not belong to formal
logic; and in fact this distinction, so far as I am aware, has
not been seen till now ; the purpose of this paper is to insist
on it. In proof of the really logical nature of the distinction,
it is to be observed that, though propositions of co-existence
may no doubt be stated as propositions of identity, the converse
is not true propositions of identity cannot be stated as propo-
4
50 Fundamental Logic.
sitions of co-existence. The two syllogisms last stated have
propositions of partial identity for their premisses and their
conclusions, and none of these can be stated as propositions of
co-existence; and the forms of proposition and syllogism by
which, as we have seen, Jevons so admirably expresses the logic
of co-existence, cannot, without an unwarrantable strain on
their meaning, be made to express the logic of simple identity.
There is another peculiarity of the logic of co-existence
which confirms me in the belief that it is fundamentally distinct
from that of mere identity. Sir William Hamilton has shown,
though I believe he was not the first to discover, the double
interpretation, in extension and in comprehension (or intension),
which the terms of the ordinary logic admit of. The extension
and the comprehension of the meaning of terms, or, in other
words, the denotation and the connotation of class-names, vary
inversely as each other that is to say, the number of species
included in a class is greater as the number of attributes con-
noted by the name of the class is less. Thus, if the syllogism
above-stated respecting chlorine is interpreted in extension, its
meaning will be : " Chlorine is one of the class of imperfect
gases ; imperfect gases are part of the class of substances freely
soluble in water; therefore,chlorine is one of the class of substances
freely soluble in water." But if interpreted in comprehension,
its meaning will be : " The properties of chlorine include those
of imperfect gases ; the properties of imperfect gases include
those of substances freely soluble in water ; therefore, the pro-
perties of chlorine include those of substances freely soluble in
water."
When we interpret terms and propositions in comprehension,
we are really treating them as belonging to the logic of co-
existence ; when we interpret them in extension, we are treating
them as belonging to the logic of identity.
Now, in the logic of identity, no interpretation in compre-
hension is possible ; its terms and propositions are interpretable
in extension only. This will be made evident by referring to
either of the two syllogisms already given as examples of that
logic.
Moreover, in propositions asserting the inclusion of class
within class, which I regard as really propositions of co-exis-
tence, we have seen that the more species a name denotes, the
fewer attributes it connotes. But this is reversed in propositions
asserting the inclusion of a part in the whole, which I regard
as really propositions of mere identity ; the name of the whole
connotes more attributes than the name of the part. The tree
has a greater variety of attributes than the anther, and the
compound than the element.
Fundamental Logic. 51
The distinctness of the logic of co-existence from that of
identity seems to be proved by these two closely-connected
facts, that propositions of co-existence may be stated as propo-
sitions of identity, but not the converse ; and that propositions
of co-existence may be interpreted either in extension or in
comprehension, but propositions of identity can be interpreted
in extension only.
It has not, I think, been sufficiently noticed, that proposi-
tions are possible respecting a class which do not make any
assertion respecting the members of the class. For instance:
Insects are the largest class of animals Birds are the most
sharply defined class of animals.
The laws of identity and contradiction are fundamental in
logic, and, so far as they can be expressed without combined
terms, they may be expressed by the equations x = x ; an I
x x = 0. To these it has been usual to add, as a third and
co-ordinate law, that of excluded middle, or, to use Jevons's
much better phrase, the law of duality. This law, as generally
stated, is that every thing must either possess or not possess
any given property ; but this statement belongs to the logic of
co-existence ; in the logic of identity its statement is, that any
total of which x is a part consists of the sum of x and not-.' ;
and, 1 being the symbol for " all," it may be expressed by the
equation 1 = x + (1x). When thus stated, it is seen to be,
riot a co-ordinate law with the two preceding, but a corollary
from them. This, I think, agrees with Boole's view.
There are, however, two other laws which appear to be co-
ordinate axioms with those of identity and contradiction. One
is that two negatives form an affirmative or positive : this law
may be expressed by the equation ( x) = x, or what is per-
haps a better expression, as not suggesting that a negative term
can have any independent meaning, x (y z) x - - y + z.
The other is the law that the order in which addition takes
place is indifferent : it may be expressed by the equation
(x + y) + z = (y + z) + x. This is the form of the equations
of chemical transformation, as will be seen if y is taken to mean
oxygen and x and z two oxidisable substances. Such equations
really belong to the logic of identity, assuming, however, the
physical truths that matter can neither be created nor destroyed,
;r.:d that every compound may be resolved back into its elements.
Perhaps we ought to enumerate yet another law, to the effect
that an equation may be read either way, so that, if x = ?/, it is
equally true that y = x. It is not unlikely, however, that the
statement here made of the laws of the logic of identity may be
found to admit of improvement.
52 Fundamental Logic.
It will be observed that all these laws are true, not only in
the logic of identity, but also in the logic of co-existence and
of equality, that is to say in the ordinary logic and in mathe-
matics.
It is worth while to show that a complete though very simple
symbolic method is possible in the logic of identity, without
any combination of terms, and with no operations except
addition and subtraction.
I propose to express the proposition " all x is y" or " x is a
part of y" by the equation x = y p, p being so much of y as
is not x : and the parallel expression for " no x is y" is x =
C 1 y*)p = i y p-
We will speak first of conversion. The problem of logical
conversion may be thus stated in its utmost possible generality :
Having described x in terms of y t to describe y in terms of .'/'.
The affirmative proposition " all x is y" or x = y p, is con-
verted by simply transposing p, when it becomes x + p = ?/.
The negative proposition, " no x is y" or x = 1 y >, is
converted by subtracting both sides of the equation from unity
and transposing p, when we get 1 x p = y.
The forms of syllogism may be expressed with equal facility.
An ordinary syllogism will read thus : x = y p; y ~z <? ;
therefore, x = z q p : or, by transposing p and q,x + p = y t
y 4- q = z ; therefore, x + p 4- q = z.
If we assign to these symbols the same meaning that we
assigned when speaking of interpretation in comprehension, this
syllogism will mean, " Chlorine is one of the class of imperfect
gases ; imperfect gases are part of the class of substances freely
soluble in water ; therefore, chlorine is one of the class of sub-
stances freely soluble in water " :
Chlorine = x = x
Imperfect gases = y = x + p.
Substances freely soluble in water = z = x + p + q.
But if we interpret the same syllogism in comprehension, and
use Jevons's notation accordingly, as explained above, then
Chlorine =x = xyz
Imperfect gases =y= yz
Substances freely soluble in water = z = z
The increasing number of letters in the one notation shows the
increased magnitude of the classes, while the decreasing number
of letters in the other shows the decreased number of attributes
in their description : thus, we may almost say, showing to the
eye how extension and comprehension vary inversely as each
other.
Fundamental Logic. 53
"We have now to see how the transition is made from the
logic of identity to the ordinary logic and to mathematics.
A glance at the algebraic form of syllogism given above for
the logic of identity, will show its canon to be that things
identical with the same thing are identical with each other : or,
in other words, that identical terms may be substituted for each
other. This is not a distinct axiom, but an immediate corollary
of the principle of identity. The axioms that things which are
equal to the same thing are equal to each other, and that things
which co-exist with the same thing co-exist with each other, are
also corollaries from the same. In order to make this clear, we
have to state the following definitions : (1) Similars are things
concerning which the same predications can be made ; in other
words, similars are things whereof the symbols may be substi-
tuted for each other.* (2) Equality is similarity of magnitude.
(3) Co-existence is identity of position either in space or in time.
From these definitions, the truth of the reasoning x = y ;
y = z ; therefore, x = z, follows without any other axiom being
needed than that of identity ; and this is equally true, whether
the copula = is taken to mean identity, co-existence, or equality.
The only distinction between the subject-matter of logic and
that of mathematics appears to be that the copula, which in
mathematics means equality, in logic means either identity or
co-existence.
In the notation which I have proposed for the logic of iden-
tity, we have seen that there are no operations except addition
and subtraction, and these have exactly the same meaning as in
mathematics. But in the logic of co-existence there is another
operation on the symbols, namely combination, symbolising the
co-existence of qualities, to which there is nothing in mathe-
matics precisely analogous. This appears to support the view
that the logic of identity is the fundamental logic.
The following are the principal points which I have endea-
voured to bring out in this paper.
The ordinary logic is not primarily a logic of identity, but
of co-existence ; but the logic of co-existence and mathe-
matics, which is the logic of equality, rest on a more elementary
logic of identity.
In this logic there is no combination of terms, and no opera-
tion except addition and subtraction.
The axioms of this logic are true also in the logic of co-
existence and in mathematics. The fundamental axioms of
Boole's logic of co-existence, a; 2 = x, and x (1 - x) = 0, are 011
* See Jevons's Substitution of Similars. He states the definition, how-
ever, as au axiom, that " what is true of a thing is true of its like ".
54 ! Fundamental Logic.
the contrary inapplicable to the logic of identity, and are not
generally true in mathematics.
Propositions of co-existence may be reduced to the form of
propositions of identity, but the converse is not true.
The terms and propositions of the logic of co-existence may
be interpreted in either extension or comprehension, but those
of the logic of identity in extension only.
I have, in conclusion, to make a few remarks on the " logic
of relatives ". This will probably be found to be an extension
of the logic of co-existence. The combination of logical terms,
symbolising co-existence, is analogous, though not closely so, to
the combination of mathematical terms, symbolising multiplica-
tion; at least such an analogy is implied throughout Boole's
system. It will probably be found that the relation of x to y
in logic may be appropriately symbolised by ; and that rela-
./
tion in logic is to ratio in mathematics, what co-existence in
logic is to multiplication in mathematics.
We have seen that in Boole's system 1 is the symbol for " all,"
or " universe " ; so that the equation 1x = x is true in logic, as in
ry*
mathematics, for all values of x. The equation = x is also
true in mathematics for all values of x. Is it so in logic ? and
if so, what is its interpretation ? I venture to suggest that it
is true in logic, and that it is the logical expression of the truth
of the relativity of knowledge that is to say, as I understand
it, the truth that only relations can be the objects of knowledge.
If relation in logic is analogous to ratio in mathematics, the
3"
expression-^- means the relation of x to the universe, and the
equation in question means that, for all purposes of knowledge,
a tiling is identical with its relation to the universe ; including,
as part of the universe, the mind which knows the relation.
Another indication of the same or a kindred truth is afforded
by the fact, that the same symbol may either be interpreted in
comprehension to mean a quality, or in extension to mean the
things having the quality. This may be regarded as an expres-
sion of the truth, that for all purposes of knowledge a thing
is identical with the sum total of its qualities.
I make these suggestions with much diffidence, and the more
so because I am inclined to dread mixing up metaphysics with
logic ; nevertheless, I think them worth making.
It will be perceived that I adhere to the doctrine of the
" quantification of the predicate " ; and I have to add, that I
Lord Amberley' s Metaphysics. 55
regard the science of logic as primarily conversant neither with
names nor with concepts, but with things. This view of the
subject of logical science is the justification I offer for what
will to some appear an illegitimate treatment of the inclusion
of a part in the whole as a similar though not identical case to
the inclusion of a species in the class.
It is in my opinion a profound error to think that logic
depends on psychology. It is a misleading expression to call
the laws of logic the laws of thought. No doubt they are so,
but only in the same sense in which any truths whereof the
contrary is unthinkable may be called laws of thought. The
laws of logic, unlike the laws of the association of ideas, do
not depend on the structure of the mind they are laws of
thought because they are laws of the universe.
JOSEPH JOHN MURPHY.
VI. LOED AMBEPvLEY'S METAPHYSICS*
THE only portion of the late Lord Amberley's Analysis of
Religious Belief which is of special interest to the student of
philosophy, is the Second Book, which, treats of "The lleligious
Sentiment Itself". This occupies little more than a hundred
pages of the thousand or so of which the work is composed ;
and all that is of peculiar value in it might have been com-
pressed within narrower limits. A few pages will be sufficient
to show what it amounts to, and what is its significance for us
at the present time. I do not express any opinion upon the value
of his collection of data. It is sufficiently complete to supply
a basis for the analysis of the religious sentiment into its
"ultimate elements," though it may be that it was scarcely
needed for that purpose. The " ultimate elements " which Lord
Amberley finds are the components of the religious sentiment
may be discovered by every individual for himself, if he will
only question his consciousness when turned upon religion.
Lord Amberley, as the result of his elaborate investigations,
finds that all religions have certain features in common. They
are all concerned with consecrated actions and consecrated
places, and nearly all have to do with consecrated persons and
a consecrated class. These are assumed to be the means, or
media, through which man communicates with God. But as
religions also imply that God addresses man, there are means
* An Analysis of Religious Belief, by Viscount AMBERLEY, 2 vols., 1876.
Trubner & Co.
56 Lord Amberley' s Metaphysics.
of communication " downwards " as well as " upwards " ; and
the Deity makes Himself known by means of holy events, holy
places, holy objects, a holy class (who perform the ceremonies
of religion with peculiar efficacy), holy men (who have authority
to teach infallible truth), and holy books, written by persons
inspired to write as He desires them to do. Now, although the
fact that rival religions exhibit the same phenomena may be
used as an argument to prove that they are all false equally,
since they may be said to cancel each other, yet comparative
religion suggests to us another procedure. Since everywhere,
at all times, there is the manifestation, under however great
variety of forms, of the religious sentiment, must there not be
an element of truth in what is thus the universal possession of
man? Is there, amid the variety of religions, any universal
faith ? and if there be, does it indicate any objective reality cor-
responding with itself, or is it merely a phantom the play of our
misleading imaginations ? This is the philosophical question
Lord Amberley deals with. He finds three fundamental pos-
tulates in the religious idea: "First, that of a hyperphysical
power in the universe ; secondly, that of a hyperphysical entity
in man ; thirdly, that of a relation between the two," or, ex-
pressed in other terms, the objective and the subjective elements
in religion, and their co-relation; and he examines these to
ascertain whether they are "a necessary and therefore per-
manent portion of our mental furniture," and, if they are,
whether we must conclude that they indicate more than their
existence in the human mind whether they point to a reality
which is outside and independent of man.
So far as we have gone, there seems no necessity in analysing
the religious idea for any wide induction of religious phenomena;
for the idea is present to every one. The foundations so
laboriously dug by Lord Amberley are certainly not essential
as a propaedeutic to an analysis of the religious idea into the
ultimate elements of an objective cosmic cause, a subjective
spiritual entity, and the co-relation of these two factors. There
is a great work waiting to be done in comparative religion, and
Lord Amberley's example may prove useful in leading the way ;
but if it is to accomplish anything of importance, it must be
undertaken for wider ends than to furnish the materials for an
analysis that may be as effectively performed without them.
Under " The Objective Element," indeed, Lord Amberley re-
capitulates what he had said in the body of the work regard-
ing the conceptions of Deity entertained by different races at
different periods, and finds that, with the lapse of time and the
progress of the human race, man's conception of God has
become more spiritual and more humane. This fact, which is
Lord Atnberleys Metaphysics. 57
testified to by the history of Christianity in the idea of the
successive ages or dispensations of the three Persons of the
Trinity, might have supplied food for reflection ; but all Lord
Amberley takes out of his historical survey is " that religion
everywhere contains, as its most essential ingredient, the concep-
tion of an unknown power ". This power is not perceived by
the senses, nor can its nature be defined by the intellect, which
only acts through comparison and classification ; must we then
accept it as a real existence, or is it a figment of the human
brain ?
To help in answering this question, which raises the point of
the validity of our mental deliverances, Lord Amberley enters
on a brief examination of the various theories of the universe,
held by different classes of thinkers. Without the conception
of some power as an objective reality, it is hard to see how
there can be any consistent and stable idea of anything. The
various points of view may be generally classified as Eealism
and Idealism, and the former may be distinguished into Crude
and Metaphysical Eealism, whilst we divide the latter into
Moderate and Extreme Idealism. Lord Amberley accepts en-
tirely no one of these views, but attributes to each of them a
certain element of truth. The outcome of his examination is
that there is an unknown Power, Origin, or Cause, external to
us the same conclusion as we are shut up to in dealing with
Eeligion. " Philosophy or Eeasoned Thought," says Lord Arn-
berley, " and Science or Eeasoned Observation, have both led us
to admit, as a fundamental principle, the necessary existence of
an unknown, inconceivable, and omnipresent Power, whose
operations are ever in progress before our eyes, but whose
nature is, and can never cease to be, an impenetrable mystery.
And this is the cardinal truth of all religion. From all sides,
then, by every mode of contemplation, we are forced upon the
same irresistible conclusion." Of course we have not trans-
cended the subjective sphere ; for we have only found that the
belief in this objective cause is necessary to us that is to say,
that we cannot help believing it ; and if our minds are records
of stages of illusion (as Yon Hartmann has maintained), it
may have none but this subjective existence. Lord Amberley
will not listen to this conclusion. He believes in the objective
reality of what is subjectively affirmed to be necessary, and he
does so on the old grounds held by those who tested necessary
truths by their necessity and universality. He claims that the
fundamental postulate of religion is true, because wherever human
intelligence has reached the stage above the lowest savagery, it
always does, and cannot but (owing to the conditions of thought)
take possession of the mind ; and that whenever it has done
58 Lord Amberley'' s Metaphysics.
so, it retains ' its place for ever. " It persists, in spite of every
attempt to do without it, and the highest philosophy is com-
pelled to give it the place of honour in the forefront of its
teaching." But all words or terms by which we seek to
designate this ultimate reality are only symbols, and though
with the progress of the human race the symbolism has become
more comprehensive, it remains symbolism still.
" Name ist Schall und Rauch,
Umnebelnd Himmelsgluth."
" All that we can say is, that while we know nothing but that
which our senses perceive or our minds understand, we feel that
tli ere is something more. Both the world without and the
world within, both that which is perceived and that which
perceives, require an origin beyond themselves. Both compel
us to look, as their common source, to a Being alike unknown
and unknowable, whose nature is shrouded in a mystery no eye
can pierce, and no intellect can fathom." *
Lord Amberley deals cursorily with the subjective element.
He shows the universality of the belief in an entity in man,
which, though working through, is distinct from, his body, and
then, in a brief analysis, suggests the impossibility of resolving
the phenomena of consciousness into matter or terms of heat or
motion. The gulf between that which feels, perceives, thinks
and reasons, and that which is felt, perceived and reasoned on,
is so great that no community of nature between them has been,
or probably can be, discovered. Whether or not the distinction
between them is ultimate in the nature of things, it is ultimate
in the order of thought and in reference to us. What, then, of
the relations between the unknowable cause and the unknown
entity we call consciousness ? As the religious sentiment in
the mind of man perceives its object, the Ultimate Being, so
that Being is conceived as making itself known to the mind of
man through the religious sentiment. A reciprocal relation is
thus established ; the Unknowable causing a peculiar intuition,
the mind of man receiving it. " And this," says Lord Amberley,
" is the grain of fact at the foundation of the numerous state-
ments of religious men that they have felt themselves inspired
* Those who are curious in such matters may be interested at seeing
an analogous view put in similar words by David Hume. In the
Dialogues concerning Natural Religion, Hume puts into the mouth of
Bemea these words : "The question is not concerning the Being, but
the Nature of God," which is "altogether incomprehensible and un-
known to us ". The essence, attributes, manner of existence, and nature
of duration of the Supreme " are covered in a deep cloud from human
curiosity; it is profaneness to attempt penetrating through these sacred
obscurities. And next to the impiety of denying his existence, is the
temerity of prying into his nature and essence, decrees and attributes."
Lord Amberley's Metaphysics 59
by God, that He speaks to them and speaks through them, that
they enter into communion with Him in prayer, and obey His
influence during their lives." These feelings are not all illusion,
however fanciful and unreal the forms they mostly assume.
There is a real communion between the objective ultimate and
the subjective ultimate, for the latter is the medium through
which the former acts. Further, our analysis of perception
whatever the theory to which it leads us leaves us with con-
sciousness as the one reality directly and indirectly known by
us to exist, and nothing is conceivable as existent except
under the conditions of consciousness. It is impossible for us
to conceive existence except as co-relative to some consciousness ;
and this consideration leads Lord Amberley to the further
inference that our affirmation of the existence of the unknown
cause implies tjiat it is akin to consciousness, since conscious-
ness is " the ultimate substance of the mind, from which alone
our conception of absolute existence is derived ". Therefore the
two Ultimates are in some unknown sense alike, though the
likeness cannot consist in any analogy to those thoughts, feel-
ings, and conscious moods which in man are constantly flit-
ting and varying. It must have a deeper root beyond our
ken ; and the Unknown Cause which is thus near and like to
us, must include our consciousness as the source from which
that has come ; for we cannot think of two ultimate causes
one of nature, and the other of thought one of the outer, and
the other of the inner world. We are, then, as produced by or
emanating from the universal fount of being, in the relation to
it of a part to the whole ; and in it we live, and move, and have
our being. Consequently in all our actions, even when we
deem ourselves to be most free, we are the agents of the
Universal Cause. We feel as if we were reservoirs of individual
force ; but the force is not ours but its, and our conditional and
qualified independence does not therefore contradict the great
scientific law of the persistence of force, since all tilings are
rooted in the one universal force. The distinction between
mind and matter, feeling or thought, and that which is felt or
thought about, though real and to our consciousness absolute,
is not absolute in the nature of things, seeing that all things are
one in the Ultimate Being, and there is " one law, one faith,
one element," while all things are moving towards " one far off
divine event ". There is no real distinction between the uni-
versal life manifested in the inanimate forces of our system, and
the fragmentary life which comes to light in animated creatures.
All things are one, and all things are the same. All things
have been and are being educed in the majestic order of
universal evolution, and we are able to see how it is that we
60 Lord Aniberleifs Metaphysics.
cannot comprehend that of which we are parts ; " for the part
cannot comprehend the whole it can only feel that there is a
whole".
The God which (who ?) is thus the object of worship for
religion, as of acceptance by the philosopher, is not, it is scarcely
necessary to say, a personal being. Lord Amberley is as candid
on this point as upon others. The "dim figure of an incon-
ceivable and all-embracing ultimate existence " is not reconcil-
able with the idea of either the abstract Divinity of the
pure Deist, or the self-communicative Divinity worshipped by
Christians as the Three in One. Consequently to Lord Am-
berley, Father, Son, and Holy Ghost represent successive stages
of illusion through which the human mind has passed. To
him, the impersonal is the highest ; for all efforts to represent
God as a person he declares to be mere " hankerings after an
incarnation of an idea which does not by its nature admit of
representation by incarnate forms ". Religion, however, he con-
tends, does not lose its object because it becomes an unknown
and unknowable Power, or Force, or Cause, or however we may
name it. On the contrary, instead of being fitful and occasional,
Eeligion is found to be in everything and everywhere. Men
are always, and not at merely exceptional times, the agents and
organs of the mighty soul of the universe, and religion <; becomes
a calm, all-pervading sentiment, shown (if it be shown at all) in
the general beauty and spirituality of the character, not in the
stated exercises of a rigorous piety, or in the passionate out-
bursts of an enthusiastic fervour". With the loss of a personal
God, we also lose the faith in an individual immortality, in resign-
ing which Lord Amberley is forced to admit he surrenders " a balm
for the wounded spirit, for which it would be hard to find an
equivalent in all the repertories of science, and in all the
treasures of philosophy ". Progress from a lower to a higher
stage, however, (he says) necessarily involves loss ; and if we
are deprived of the hope of rejoining those who have gone before
us, when life's fitful fever is over, we find in the very fact that
our all of life is here incentives to duty, and motives to ever-
deepening sympathy with our fellow-men, which point onwards
to the brighter time when to minister to humanity shall be the
glad service of all, and when the consolations of the new
religion will surpass in strength and perfection all those
offered by the old. Pious resignation to whatever comes,
helpful alacrity in doing all duty in the present for the sake
of our brethren of mankind, calm, self-confident, because fear-
less facing of the future where all must be well, seeing that
progress is the law of life these are some of the consolations,
as they are the fruits, of the new faith, which claims to
Lord Amlerleys Metaphysics. 61
have a scientific basis and to be able to justify itself against
sceptics and cavillers, because it only aims at making men wiser
and better, more courageous and more enlightened.
In reflecting upon the outcome of Lord Amberley's meta-
physics, it becomes plain that there is a good deal more in it
than has a right to be there. His Absolute, which is the
source whence all things have come, and the fount to which
presumably they return after the process of evolution is com-
pleted, is akin to, but is not, and has not, consciousness. Either,
then, this Absolute is not the highest of existences, since it is
non-conscious ; or consciousness ia not the highest mode of
being. We have seen, however, that Lord Amberley felt under
irresistible compulsion to treat consciousness as " the one reality
which is known to exist " ; and in consequence to attribute
some sort of vague kinship with consciousness to his Absolute.
But vagueness here can least of all be permitted. Personality is
the nerve of consciousness, the indispensable and essential con-
stituent and co-relative of thought. Existence is only conceivable
in conneotion with the antithesis of subject and object which is
the root-form of consciousness. It is idle to talk of the " sub-
stance of consciousness" as if it were something different from
consciousness itself a kind of substratum in which that
inheres. We know the substance, and it is consciousness we
cannot transcend this ultimate, which is to us the measure of
all things, while itself is measured by none. If all explanation be
translation into terms of thought, the only Absolute we can
think of, or attribute existence to, is God as Absolute Ego the
nature of whose personality is inconceivable by us, but who must
be the source of thought, of consciousness, and whose inclusion of
all thought within His own being does not exclude the conscious-
ness of Himself. It is impossible for us to give any defiuiteness
to that feeling of a universal presence which religion supplies,
unless we attribute to it (whatever more it has) the highest
thought by which alone we are able to construe existence.
Feeling or sensation is our ultimate, so far as we are affected by
anything ; and our analysis of that which excites feeling, forces
us to attribute to its cause a mode of existence not inferior to
the effect produced. It is a mere assumption which we cannot
even make intelligible to ourselves that the conscious may
have flowed from that which is non-conscious that there can
be in the effect what has never been in the cause.
If it be objected that in all this we are accepting the deli-
verance of subjective thought as a valid ground for affirm-
ing objective existence, the obvious answer is that it could not
lie with Lord Amberley to make such an objection. If con-
sciousness be the ultimate of existence to us, and the Unknow-
62 Lord Amberleys Metaphysics.
able be akin to consciousness, we are driven to the conclusion
that the Unknowable whatever else it includes does include
thought and feeling as the essence of consciousness. Lord
Amberley, we have seen, is compelled to accept the reality of
the existence of an objective something which corresponds in
some way to the subjective feeling that reveals it. He treats
as self-contradictory and as the parent of universal scepticism,
which would sweep away thought and being alike, the assertions
of those who deny the validity of what are felt to be the
necessary deliverances of thought. Thought, then, is ultimate
to him, the one unassailable foundation of certainty and
knowledge ; and having accepted that, he cannot refuse to be
bound by the consequences : one of which is that the unknow-
able cosmic Cause is to be represented as including within itself,
though we know not how, active self-conscious Personality.
That he does so, even when he seems most to avoid it, can be
proved from the ideals he cherished regarding the future. Lord
Amberley's faith in time was great. He believed in the brighter
future to which he is always pointing us onwards. He be-
lieved in the progressive education of the human race, and its
final advance to an ethical condition when men would partici-
pate in a nobler state of existence than any before experienced.
This advance, this progress, was not and could not be the result
of man's fitful and unaided efforts only ; for man was in all
things, and mostly here, the agent of a higher power. It must
be regulated and controlled, then, by that higher power which
is working towards the highest conceivable ends. What does
this process, this progress from a lower to a higher, from the
barrenness and poverty of even such beginnings as we are able
to trace back to, imply ? We may be unwilling to use the
term purpose, in particular, ethical or moral purpose ; but where
there is process that involves such progress as justifies the faith
that good, if not the highest good, is to be the final goal of ill, is
there not an attribution of intelligence, of thought ; and of
intelligence and thought that are distinctly moral to the ulti-
mate being ? Good for its own sake is presumably the end to
which all things have been working from the beginning ; and
whatever seeming defeats may have been, are partial and tem-
porary the process is not interrupted, the evolution goes on to
its fulfilment. What higher conception can we have of a moral
world-order than this ; and, where it is cherished, is there not a
faith in something higher than a mere force outside of ourselves ?
It is a power outside of us which makes for righteousness, and
involves the best results of intelligence and moral freedom.
But there is more than this in Lord Amberley's Absolute
Force, which is everywhere working in and through all for the
Lord Aniberleys Metaphysics. 63
general good of all. With Mr. Herbert Spencer probably from
him Lord Amberley accepts the Unknowable as the Ultimate ;
and repeatedly speaks of it as an Unknowable Power, Force, or
Cause. He has not by the use of these expressions escaped the
necessity of interpreting the phenomena of the universe in the
terms of thought and feeling ; for the Force, Power, or Cause,
which is steadily at work through the ages, bringing order out of
chaos, good out of evil, the higher and better out of the lower and
worse, is as much an " incarnation " adapted to human ways and
weaknesses as the idea of a personal God. We cannot evade the
necessity, try how we may, of adopting the thought of man
as the final measure of the universe; since all things are in-
telligible to us in the last resort only as expressed in terms of
thought and feeling. When we ask what the Unknowable
involves, we find that what it has lost in definiteness, it has not
really gained in comprehensiveness ; and we are driven, if we
would include under it the elements given as actual factors in
our conception of it, to attribute to it powers and qualities that
are only conceivable under their human manifestations.
The education of the human race, we have seen, is tacitly
assumed by Lord Amberley as one of these factors. The Power
in which we live, and move and have our being, acts on men in
such a manner that they are guided towards higher levels of
thought and experience. There is actual contact between the
objective element and the subjective entity, with the result of
elevating even the individual, regarded individually. But it is
impossible for us, in trying to fix our estimate of what the
Power is which is thus over and through all, to leave out of
account the instruction regarding its acts and effects offered us
by the processes of history. History implies the idea of
Providence, as nature suggests that of Fate. The Power revealed
by nature as Fate, is exalted into Providence when we take his-
tory as our guide ; and the forces which were blind before,
now become impregnated with moral purpose. Comparative
religion cannot neglect this latter side of experience, in order
to give exclusive attention to the other ; especially if, as Lord
Amberley does, we accept the idea of the unity of origin of
nature and man. There is an arbitrary and capricious selection
of the kind of experience which alone we allow to determine
our views in regard to the Unknowable, when we exclude
the experiences of individuals and of nations, in so far as they
are evidently due to influences higher than lie within the
range of the action of the senses and the understanding. Com-
parative religion cannot proceed in this manner. It is bound to
accept, as the materials with which to work, the whole rich and
varied freight of phenomena in the spheres both of nature and
64 The Veracity of Consciousness.
of history, and to learn from them what they have to teach
regarding the Power which is so much more than a Nature-
force, since the highest testimony regarding its character is
derived from the region of moral purpose and spiritual sensi-
bility.
Thankful to Lord Amberley for what he has done (though
with faltering step he has only trodden the path in which others
before him have made steadier progress), the chief value of his
work for us of the present time seems to me to be that he takes
us to a point where we cannot possibly rest.
J. SCOT HENDERSON.
VII. THE VEEACITY OF CONSCIOUSNESS.
A point more vital than any in philosophy is the veracity of
the mind's revealing. But there are two ways of regarding this
veracity. The one is, with such inquirers as Reid and his im-
mediate followers, seeing that the primary deliverances are
irresistible and necessarily acted upon by all men, to deem it
" metaphysical lunacy," even in philosophy, to question their
truthfulness; the other, with Descartes and his school, while
admitting that in practice all men must have similar funda-
mental beliefs, to hold that these beliefs are not, in philosophy,
to be accepted as final, save in so far as they repel 'all doubt.
Those having the former tendency, the Natural Realists, contend
that the primary declarations possess both a subjective and an
objective veracity; while those who have the latter tendency,
the Idealists, with a bent of mind amounting to semi-scepticism,
maintain that such declarations simply possess subjective veracity.
In this paper, an endeavour is made to uphold Natural
Realism, or the Common Sense doctrine, which, let it be under-
stood, is, as here treated, not to be confounded with crude com-
mon sense. The former, as herein discussed, adheres as rigidly
to the full critical method as does the doctrine of Descartes,
of Berkeley, of Kant or of Fichte. There seems to be but one
true method for philosophy to observe, and that is, first, to take
note of our practical beliefs, then, to resolve these into their
primary elements, to test the truthfulness of these by comparing
them with each other, and finally by applying to them the ulti-
mate law of contradiction.
But when we arrive at the primary elements of knowing as
thus discriminated we are confronted by the fact, plain to Reid,
for example, as stars shining in the night, that it is impossible
either to prove or to disprove the integrity of consciousness as
The Veracity of Consciousness. 65
an ultimate source of evidence. For it must be very clear that,
unless there is already a truthful revealing power, the attempted
proof or disproof must be quite worthless, the proof must beg
the veracity it would prove, and the disproof the veracity it
would disprove. In the last resort, then, we must, in a certain
sense, as Hamilton states, " perforce philosophically admit that
belief is* the primary condition of reason, and not reason the
ultimate ground of belief. We are compelled to surrender the
proud Intellige ut credas of Abelard, to content ourselves with
the Crede ut iutelligas of Anselm."
True, demonstration must ultimately repose on primary data ;
but when reason is opposed to belief as above, are we to under-
stand by it demonstration simply ? Not exactly, but rather
that judicial act of mind which weighs all kinds of evidence
whether intuitional or inferential.
Philosophy is entirely the result of the more dependent, the
more comprehensive, the superior, the judicial intellect insist-
ing that the evidence in full shall satisfy its final craving for
certainty. This judicial function of the mind exercises the
final decision, sits in ultimate judgment upon the evidence, and
either accepts it as satisfactory, or rejects it as doubtful. Autho-
rity, according to the law of Evolution, does not increase the nearer
we approach the foundations of knowing. On the contrary, it
is on the authority of our judicial thinking we finally conclude
as to the value of all evidence. It must be very manifest that
if we were restricted to our spontaneous or unspeculative think-
ing, the idea, either with the sceptic of questioning, or with the
natural realist of vindicating, its integrity, could no more have
occurred to the human mind than the thought of immortality
can be presented to the intelligence of the elephant or the dog.
In philosophy, therefore, all that passes for truth must be veri-
fied by that ultimate criticism, on the existence of which
philosophy depends.
If, as Terrier contends, philosophy must be reasoned out
from the beginning, this beginning though it cannot be reasoned
out, yet may be reasoned upon with the view of satisfying
ultimate criticism as to the degree of veracity of which it is
possessed. How is this effected ? In the history of modern
philosophy two attempts to solve this question occur to our recol-
lection as of leading importance : the one is that of Descartes ;
the other that of Hamilton.
Descartes, it is well known, made doubt the starting point
of his speculative inquiry ; and what fully stood this trial, he
discovered, was the fact that he existed as a thinking, doubting,
agent. Cogito that fact I cannot doubt, therefore, so far I
exist. My consciousness of my existence as a conscious agent
5
66 The Veracity of Consciousness.
is to me beyond the reach of doubt. Wherefore, consciousness
Descartes pronounced to be the basis of certitude. But con-
sciousness, it is too well known, is also the source of much error
and deception. How are we to distinguish true from false
declarations of consciousness ? Descartes saw that doubt is
the criterion. It is a mistake to hold that consciousness in
general is the basis of certitude. All that Descartes can be
understood to claim, consistently with his doubt-test, is that
that message of consciousness which does not admit of being
questioned is the foundation of truth, that perception which is
so clear and obvious as to subdue all scepticism.
But again simply to state that doubt is the test of the
veracity of consciousness is about as indefinite as to say that con-
sciousness is the basis of certitude. We need to know what
kind of doubt serves this purpose. The doubt-test as applied
by Descartes does not keep him from falling into error, and
from framing fanciful hypotheses. Leibniz developed this
doubt-test into fuller proportions, but, in practice, it still fails
to exclude error. The law of contradiction still awaits its fully
explicit utterance.
There is indeed a large amount of truth in what J. S. Mill holds
in regard to the inconceivableness of the contradictory as the test
of necessary truth. Many beliefs firmly stood their ground for
a time when thus tested which have since been clearly proved
erroneous. The doubt-test could not have been effectual when
it thus failed to shake baseless beliefs ; it merely served to mea-
sure the force and obstinacy with which such beliefs cling to the
mind. A proposition may, from the absence of counter evidence
to the person who entertains it, appear true beyond contradiction,
which, at a later period, turns out to be false. We need, there-
fore, a more stringent test of truth in philosophy than that af-
forded by the law of contradiction, the doubt-test, as hitherto
understood. This deficiency we shall later on endeavour to supply.
The other instance of a test applied to the truthfulness of our
primary beliefs is that to which Hamilton has recourse.
The beginning from which it is contended philosophy must be
reasoned out cannot derive additional validity from any prior
source, more especially when it has successfully passed the
final examination. But the beginnings of knowing are many
and, being co-equal in authority, they admit of being compareid
with each other in order to discover whether they contradict
and by contradicting invalidate each other's authority. Were
they to do so, their mendacity, so Hamilton declares, would be
proved. This, however, as Mr. Herbert Spencer points out, is a
strange assertion for Hamilton to make ; for, as shown above,
any attempt either to prove or to disprove the veracity of our
The Veracity of Consciousness. 67
primary beliefs must take that veracity for granted. To state,
therefore, as Hamilton does, that were our primary beliefs in
conflict with each other their mendacity would be proved, com-
pletely begs the question. At the same time, such conflict, if
existing, would have the effect of making absolute scepticism
the goal of philosophical inquiry. As might be anticipated,
however, the results obtained by the mutual comparing of our
primary convictions is most favourable to the truth of Natural
Eealism, for it is found that such convictions, far from being in
a state of conflict with each other, form a most happy family.
Of this fact we shall presently have to greet the happy signi-
ficance.
But let it not be thought that this is the only test which
Hamilton recognises of the honesty of our primary beliefs. As
a natural realist he contends for the objective validity of such
beliefs ; and it is in vindication of them in this respect alone thtit
he applies the forementioned test. In relation to the subjective
validity of our fundamental beliefs, he adopts the Cartesian
doubt-test.
It is highly necessary to have a clear notion of the distinction
which subsists between the subjective and the objective report
of consciousness. Let us call knowing a revelation. It first of
all reveals its own existence as possessed of certain qualities,
that is, the knowing reveals itself to itself, and is, in this sense,
an object to itself. But here knowing and the object are identi-
cal, and this is the only case in which we are justified in de-
claring that knowing and its object are one and the same. Here
the declaration is clear arid forcible to the effect that the know-
ing knows nothing but itself.* In the instance of an external
object, however, the declaration is equally clear and forcible to
the effect that the knowing does not simply disclose its own
existence, but also the existence of something which does not
dwell in the mind at all. So far as knowing merely reveals its
own existence, we have the facts of the process ; so far as these
facts reveal the existence of something external to themselves,
we have to deal with the objective veracity of consciousness.
If these facts be compared to an African traveller narrating his
adventures, there cannot be a doubt that the traveller exists, and
that he declares his exploits to be of such and such a nature.
* It needs to be explained that knowing does not, at the outset,
reflectively kndw itself , i.e., know itself in such a manner that the psycho-
logist experiences no difficulty in describing its several processes ; en
the contrary, at first, it only knows itself to that extent which is indis-
pensable to its existence as knowing. Those who like Comte deny the
possibility of such a science as psychology are blind to the fact that
knowing quoad nos underlies everything, and that our objective world
is knowing to a greater extent at least than it is not-knowing.
68 The Veracity of Consciousness.
But is Ins narrative true ? As to the facts of consciousness,
certain of them report those that relate to the primary qualities
that objects non-identical with these facts exist. There can
be no more doubt of the existence of this declaration than there
can be of the existence of the traveller and his narrative. But
what about the truthfulness of this declaration ? The object in
this instance not being identical, says consciousness, with con-
sciousness, the declaration is not self-verifying as in the instance
in which consciousness and object are one and the same. In
the one case, the mind reveals that something exists, and that
something is the revealing itself ; in the other case, the mind
reveals that something exists, and that something is not the reveal-
ing itself; so in the latter case the knowing is not self- verifying ;
and out of this fact emerges the great problem of philosophy, to
wit, Are primary declarations of consciousness when not self-
verifying truthful beyond the possibility of doubt ? This, which
has been called the cardinal question of philosophy, is the secret
to be won ; care, however, being taken that it be better under-
stood than it was by Eeid and his more immediate followers :
practical must not be confounded with speculative conviction,
for the former does not necessitate the latter. To cite a memor-
able instance of this fact In outward perception as relating to the
primary qualities, the declaration is most clear to the effect that
there is an external world existing independently of the perci-
pient, and, in practice, we are forced by our constitution to place
implicit reliance in this declaration. This, however, is only
practical conviction, and constitutional, irresistible, unchange-
able, and universal though it be, it is not, as respects its veracity,
considered by all to be beyond the reach of doubt. We lay the
more stress on this distinction, because Eeid and his imme-
diate followers seem wilfully to shut their eyes to it, and
to argue with the "vulgar" that if a man in the character
of a philosopher, cannot trust his senses, he should, to be
consistent, fall, heedless of their warning, into the fire, or leap
over a precipice.
It has already been mentioned -that Hamilton's guarantee
applies solely to the objective trustworthiness of our original
beliefs. The subjective integrity of these, he reckons to
be placed far beyond the range of scepticism. " The facts
of consciousness as mere phenomena," he affirms, " are by
the unanimous confession of Sceptics and Idealists, ancient and
modern, placed high above the reach of question." Descartes
could not 'doubt that in so far as he was conscious he existed.
Hume never brought his scepticism to bear upon the existence
of impressions and ideas ; and J. S. Mill affirms that there is no
appeal from the human faculties generally. Here, then, in the
TJie Veracity of Consciousness. 69
very centre of our intelligent being is a stronghold of certainty
which ever did and ever will continue to prove impregnable.
The subjective veracity of consciousness being, therefore, criticism-
proof, the problem remaining to be solved relates merely to the ob-
jective veracity of consciousness when it affirms the existence of
the primary qualities. Hamilton did much to establish this objec-
tive veracity, yet after all his efforts, he has to make the admis-
sion that to suppose the mendacity of the non-self-verifying is not
self-annihilating, as is the supposition that the self-verifying
is mendacious. " The Idealist," he remarks, " in denying
the existence of an external world as more than a subjective
phenomenon of the internal does not advance a doctrine ab
iniiio null, as a scepticism would be which denied the pheno-
mena of the internal world itself." After an admission of this
kind, it is not surprising that such a luminary as Terrier should
arise in the firmament of Scottish metaphysics, and^that he should
affirm " My philosophy is Scottish to the very core, it is national
in every fibre and articulation of its frame ". Now the peculiarity
of the present exposition consists in holding, in opposition to
Hamilton, that the idealist, in denying the objective integrity
of the primary conviction relative to the independent existence
of the non-ego, does advance a tenet ab initio null.
It is an admitted law in respect to the primary judgments as
revealing themselves, the self- verify ing, that they cannot have
their veracity called in question without involving a direct
subversio principii. Now an objective primary declaration must
have its basis in. a subjective declaration. Thus, the declaration
that the primary qualities have an esse which is not percipi does, at
all events, exist as a declaration, as a phenomenon, that is to say,
a base. But is this base, moreover, a truthful objective deliver-
ance ? The idealist says it is not. The csse of the primary qualities,
as of every other quality, he maintains, is percipi. Now this
is a statement, observe, in regard to the nature of the self-veri-
fying itself, and is in direct contradiction to what the self-
verifying reveals of itself, namely, that the esse of the primary
qualities is not a constituent part of the self-verifying, is not
percipi. This negativing by idealism of a self-verifying deli-
verance proves it to be, not merely a " baseless paradox," but a
subversio principii.
By way of illustrating the doctrine here advanced, let us
enter into a criticism of Ferrier's views as conveyed to us in
The Institutes of Mctaphysic. Terrier strongly insists that the
primary data of consciousness, even as explicated, criticised
and vindicated by Hamilton, are natural inadvertences ; that
philosophy assumes and must assume that man does not natu-
rally think aright, but must be taught to do so ; that truth does
70 The Veracity of Consciousness.
not come to him spontaneously, but must be brought to him
by his own exertions; that philosophy must be reasoned out
irom the beginning. Yes, from the beginning certainly, if it is
to be reasoned out at all, but what is this beginning, and how
does it in the ultimate judicial scrutiny certify us of its
integrity? Terrier's datum is this: "Along with whatever
any intelligence knows, it must, as the ground or condition
of knowledge, have some cognisance of itself." In further
explanation of this principle, Ferrier states " that the object
of knowledge, whatever it may be, is always something more
than what is naturally or usually regarded as the object.
It always is and must be the object plus subject, thing or
thought mecum. Self is an integral and essential part of every
object of cognition." Yes, of every self- verifying object, of
the object that is identical with knowing. But there is an
object which is non-identical with the knowing, so says the
knowing itself, and if this assertion cannot be doubted without
the doubt being self-contradictory, what then ?
The most obvious objection to which Terrier's first principle
lies open is that which has been urged with so much feeling by
Eeid and similar inquirers it is in contradiction to the very
clear and universal belief that objects proper exist. Here, then,
are two declarations of consciousness in fierce antagonism to
each other, and one of them constitutional, irresistible and un-
changeable. But is it not highly improbable that there should
be an unavoidable feud between two states of mind ? " Nature,"
as Hume confesses, " is always too strong for principle ; "
and Ficlite admits that " How evident soever may be the
demonstration that every object of consciousness is only
illusion and dream, I am unable to believe it." Here we have,
for the philosopher, then, as a cruel and monstrous necessity,
a mind divided against itself. blissful ignorance of the many,
if this be the result of knowing philosophy !
But seeing that our primary beliefs cannot be extinguished
even when proved, as held by some, to be natural inadvertences,
how conies it to pass that so much reliance is placed by the
idealist on what gives them the lie ? The reply to this query
will most likely be as follows. The subjective authority of
consciousness is more to be respected than its objective autho-
rity. Ferrier's datum is a subjective disclosure, a fact of con-
sciousness ; whereas, the objective deliverance which it negatives
is of lower authority, and only to be accepted as a phenomenon.
Now, mark well that such antagonism as is here indicated exists
neither between any objective deliverance and its base ; nor, as
Hamilton has shown, by means of the test noticed above, be-
tween any primary belief and its fellow. Where, then, seeingr
The Veracity of Consciousness. 71
that Ferrier's first principle possesses neither of these peaceable
characteristics, are we to seek for its origin ?
When data purporting to describe laws of mind are mutu-
ally contradictory, it is more reasonable to conclude that some
of them must be faulty, than that the mind should be cruelly
divided against itself ; and, indeed, when the several data are
minutely examined it is found that, as " God made the country
but man made the town," so the primary data of consciousness
are the inherited mental groundwork of all mankind, while
other data are acquired by observation and experiment, and
frequently by anticipation. The one forms Nature's capital ;
the other, the acquired possessions which necessarily imply the
pre-existence of such capital. Now acquired data are frequently
found wanting when weighed in the balance of exact inquiry.
This being the case, there is but one sound conclusion at which
to arrive, namely, that the acquired data are more likely
to be at fault than the fundamental and universal assur-
ances of the mind. This rule is set at nought by Terrier, who
argues that philosophy assumes and must assume that man does
not naturally think aright, but must be taught to do so ; which
is as much as to say that Nature's declaration as to the inde-
pendent existence of the primary qualities is to be corrected by
an acquired datum ; for, as has been shown, a self- verifying
declaration, or a subjective fact of consciousness, Terrier's datum
is not. Where, then, is its origin to be sought ?
In order to answer this question, it is needful briefly to refer
to the " ideal hypothesis ". Keid slew this hybrid obstruction to
the truth, and thus bodily made a clearance of it. Its ghost,
however, still remains to haunt and bewilder the mind of meta-
physicians ; and it is now high time, if Philosophy is to take
her fitting place in popular regard, that this ghost should be
laid for evermore. The essential feature of the ideal hypothesis,
it need not be stated, is holding that the mind cognises external
objects through a medium or tertium quid. Now the idealist
pretends successfully to have proved that such medium is the
only object of cognition. With him, the representing object of
Descartes and of Locke is made to displace the represented
object, and is constituted the only object. An object is neces-
sarily retained, but instead of admitting it to be external, not in
the mind, as Eeid and consciousness declare, it is held to be
simply a modification of our subjectivity Being is merely a
phase of Knowing.
This view, for the reasons herein adduced, we feel convinced,
is erroneous. No object proper forms a constituent part of the
fact of consciousness of that which is self-verifying of that
which declares that an object proper is not per dpi of that
72 The Veracity of Consciousness.
which cannot be thought mendacious without such thought
being self-subversive.
In further explanation of this problem it is desirable to state
that when we know the qualities of the material self in correla-
tion with those of the not-self, the consciousness is double,
forming one whole, the two parts of which are similar indeed,
but distinguishable. Thus, when in touch we feel the organism
as resisted over an extended surface, we also feel that it is re-
sisted by a co-extended resisting externality. This fact seems to
have led to the notion that in touch, an impression is made as
by a seal upon wax, and that the impression thus made reveals
the existence of the external object by corresponding with it.
But this is the representative doctrine, which is not proof against
scepticism. According to that hypothesis one part of the double
process only is immediately known, and serves to suggest to the
imagination that which makes the impression. This is not the
doctrine of a double consciousness in perception ; according to
which doctrine both parts of the double consciousness simultan-
eously exist forming a single act of knowing, a relation between
ego and non-ego.
It has to be explained that the double consciousness of which
we are treating exists solely in the case of touch and the
motor sense, the perception of the primary qualities. In the
case of the other senses, consciousness is single. Colour does
not involve a co-extended colour, nor sound a corresponding
sound. In these instances, the external cause of the sensation
is not directly known, it is inferred. The object of touch and
the motor sense being perceived at one and the same mo-
ment as we experience sensation's of colour, sound, scent, an
association is formed between the latter and the former, and
the inference comes to be made that the exciting causes of the
latter issue from the objects revealed by the double consciousness,
these objects being the substratum to which the secondary
qualities or external excitants of the single consciousness are, by
inference, attributed.
The conclusion which has now been arrived at is this : While
the single consciousness (regarded as a primary deliverance)
reveals simply its own existence as the self-verifying, the
double consciousness (regarded as a primary deliverance) di-
rectly and clearly reveals the existence of the non-self-verifying.
Then the self-verifying base of the double consciousness declares
that the non-ego is not a constituent part of such base, is not
percipi; and to negative this subjective declaration, as idealism
seeks to do, is to commit a subversio principii.
There is one other point which it is highly desirous to notice.
In the Order of Evolution, the Category of Difference is prior to
The Veracity of Consciousness. 73
the Category of Eesemblance. It is the condition of a general
notion that it must be founded on the similarity to each other
of individual cognitions. Discrimination, or the cognition of
objects as mutually differing in individuality or number, is prior
to the cognition of the same objects as mutually resembling.
Now idealism is founded on a complete violation of this order.
Let us select for criticism, as an illustration of this statement,
the view expressed by J. S. Mill in the following words :
" There is not the slightest reason for believing that what we call
the sensible qualities of the object are a type of anything in-
herent in itself, or bear any affinity to its own nature. A cause
does not, as such, resemble its effects ; an east wind is not like
the feeling of cold, nor heat like the steam of boiling water ; why
then should matter resemble our sensations ? why should the
inmost nature of fire or water resemble the impressions made
by these objects upon our senses ? And if not on the principle
of resemblance, on what other principle can the manner in which
objects affect us through our senses afford us any insight into
the inherent nature of those objects ? It may, therefore, safely
be laid down as a truth both obvious in itself, and admitted by
all whom it is at present necessary to take into consideration,
that, of the outward world, we know and can know absolutely
nothing, except the sensations which we experience from it."
We submit that the argument by which Mill here supports
his position is fallacious. When an organ of sense is excited
into activity, and this excitation is continued by the afferent
nerves to the related sense-centres, and so on till the final
result is reached the revealing, by the double consciousness,
of the primary qualities as external to the organism, what
meaning can there be in the intimation that unless this revealing
resembles the object proper, we can have no knowledge of such
object ? The judgment which determines the existence of
resemblance or non-resemblance involves prior knowing, know-
ing, which, in the Order of Evolution is at the root of all other.
The consequence is, that whenever an attempt has been made
to explain the primitive act of knowing a petitio principii has
been committed ; for these explanations are all based on the
supposition (or the denial) that something in the mind resembles
the external object, and thus alone reveals its existence. To
assert, therefore, that we can know nothing of non-self-verifying
objects because our knowing bears no resemblance to them is
on a par with saying that we cannot learn the alphabet because
we have not learnt to read. The double consciousness reveals
to us that non-self-verifying objects exist, namely, the extended
ego in relation with the co-extended non-ego, and the resisting
ego in relation with the counter-resisting non-ego. To ask how
74 Philosophy in the Scottish Universities.
it does this is to seek an explanation of the inexplicable, to
seek a beginning beyond the beginning ; and to ask whether
the double consciousness can in philosophy be relied upon
is to raise the question which in this contribution has been
answered in the affirmative. Indeed, when we behold in man
a series of nervous systems, one evolved out of the other, a
complete microcosm ; when we turn our thoughts to the dif-
erent grades of the animal and the vegetable kingdoms, each
higher grade implying the pre-existence of a lower in speciality
and dignity ; when we turn our thoughts to the several geolo-
gical eras, to the sedimentary strata, still further back to the
rocks of eruption, further back still to the nebular period of
planetary formation, how can we, with so able an interpreter of
the Order of Evolution as Mr. Herbert Spencer, avoid coming to
the conclusion that idealism is, as we have attempted to demon-
strate, a doctrine db initio null.
W. G. DAVIES.
VIIL PHILOSOPHY IN THE SCOTTISH
UNIVEKSITIES. (I.)
SOME people, both south and north of the Tweed, are found
in these days not unfrequently to talk and write as if the
Universities of Scotland were simply large Public Schools of
the English type, and of rather an inferior sort. They look to
the school-subjects that are taught Latin, Greek, and Mathe-
matics and disregard, or have a very vague idea of, any other
kind of instruction given in them. The discussions about the
Scottish Universities are thus very apt to take a one-sided
course, and to be restricted to questions regarding the degree
of classical preparation with which students enter or ought to
enter them. All through those discussions there is little per-
ception or recognition of the fact that these Universities have been
from their foundation and throughout their history seminaries
of Mental Philosophy, of Logic, Psychology, Metaphysics, and
Ethics. This holds especially true of the three oldest of them
St. Andrews, Glasgow,- and Aberdeen. In these, the first
constituted Faculty was that of Arts ; it was the fundamental
Faculty in them and in all the medieval Universities, and it
was made up of the three departments of Logic, Physics, and
Ethics. Even the Physics of that day included reference to
the phenomena of Mind ; and in some of the Universities we
find, until very lately, Pneumatology as a part of what is now
known as Natural Philosophy. Greek, Latin, and Mathematics,
Philosophy in the Scottish Universities. 75
came gradually to be added to the Faculty of Arts. Greek
was first known in Scotland, and first taught in the Univer-
sities of Glasgow, Aberdeen, and St. Andrews, about the
middle of the 16th century. The learned, zealous, and
vigorous Andrew Melville introduced the teaching of Greek
into the University of Glasgow in 1574, and into that of
St. Andrews a few years later. There is, however, some pro-
bability that Greek was known and taught in Aberdeen a
quarter of a century even before this date, for Greek orations
were made in that University before James V. and his Queen
in 1541. The teaching of Latin as a language was not a part
of the University curriculum until after the decline of learning
in Scotland which followed the lieformation. From the founda-
tion of the older Universities, a knowledge of Latin was im-
perative on the Intrant or Bajan student (Bee jaune, Yellow
Neb), such an amount of knowledge, at least, as enabled him
to follow the expositions of the Regents. We find in Glasgow
statutory prohibitions even of the use of the vernacular among
the students, and the requirement of Latin in their ordinary
intercourse.* A student was further interdicted from having a
servant in the college, or bringing in a friend, "nisi scholasticum
sermonem callentem ". The institution of the Latin Chairs
in the Universities in Edinburgh, 1583, St. Andrews, 1G20,
Glasgow, 1637 may be said to correspond with a continuous
decline in the school-teaching of the language.f The Chair
of Litcrce Humaniores was chiefly valuable as showing a recog-
nition of the new spirit and studies of the Reformation period.
There were disputes shortly after the foundation of these
Chairs between the Colleges and the teachers of the remaining
higher class Grammar Schools, as to the limits of their respec-
tive provinces.
Philosophy, especially Dialectic, was thus the characteristic
study of the Scottish student from the foundation of the Uni-
versities. In the olden times, as now, it was his strong and
cultivated faculty. During the latter part of the fifteenth,
through the whole of the sixteenth, and the greater part of the
seventeenth centuries, the errant ' Scot abroad ' was known as
much in the disputations of the continental Universities for
his skill in dialectic, learned at his native Schools, as he was
famous for his readiness and courage in following a military
leader native or foreign a Douglas or a Gustavus Adolphus
to the battle-fields of France, and the wars of ' Hie Germanie '.
* Munimenta Alrnce Universitatis Glasguensis, II., 41, temp. Jac. V.
t The Humanity Chair in Aberdeen was not instituted until 1839.
Was this because the teaching of the Grammar School was so good that
a Chair was not required in the University ?
76 Philosophy in the 'Scottish Universities.
As Erasmus said of the mediaeval Scots, "dialecticis argutiis
sibi blandiuntur ". Among those ' kniglit-errants ' of the
schools, we have several distinguished names. A short list
of the most prominent of them is not without interest. In the
15th century, Scotland sent from its native Universities to those
especially of France, as Eegent teachers of Philosophy, Thomas
Otterburne, Henry Leighton, Robert Fleming, Thomas Mushet,
Umfrid Hume, James Martin. In the 16th century, we have
the well-known Hector Boece, the ' first doctor ' or teaching
Eegent of Aberdeen, recalled from the Sorbonne by Bishop
Elphinstone, to help the young University. John Major, George
Lockhart, and William Gregory, of the College of Montacute,
are all distinguished names, and taught with great success in
the University of Paris. Gregory afterwards went, as Professor
of Philosophy, to Toulouse, where he died in 1527. Arch-
deacon Bellenden and Eichard Moryson, who taught abroad,
were Aristotelians reputed second to none in their time. Early
in the 17th century, we have George Eglisemmus (Eglesham),
John Walker (Vigilantius), and, greatest of all, the three names
of Eobert Balfour, Mark Duncan, and William Chalmers.
Eglesham, Walker, and Balfour, were all of St. Andrews.
Eglesham was Professor of Philosophy at Leyden, and is the
author of Animadversiones in Aristotelis Logicam. Walker
was Professor of Philosophy at Nimes, and is the author of
Prefationes in Aristotelem. Eobert Balfour, of Fife extraction,
was long Eector (Principal) of Bordeaux, and wrote Com-
mentaria in Universam Logicam, in Physicam et Ethicam Aris-
tofelis, commentaries which, for ability and learning, are in the
first rank. Mark Duncan was Professor at Saumur. His
Institutio Logica appeared there in 1612. It was a w r ork of the
very highest repute, and is even now of great value. William
Chalmers of Anjou is the author of Disputationes Philosophies,
and Introductio ad Logicam. Gilbert Jack of Marischal College,
Aberdeen, was Professor of Philosophy in Leyden. Even the
famous Burgersdick, who succeeded him, did nothing more than
sustain the reputation of his predecessor. Jack was distinguished
alike in Medicine and Philosophy. Bayle speaks of him as one
of the subtlest Peripatetics of the age. He was the author of
Primce Philosophic Institutions, Leyden, 1616. Walter Donald-
son, also of Aberdeen, was Principal of Sedan, and gave to the
world, in 1612, at Frankfort, his Synopsis Locorum Communium.
Then there is the name of David Buchanan, Eegent in Paris,
author of the Historia Animce Humance, 1636, and L'Histoire
de la Conscience, ] 638. The tendency to philosophical study
which had been encouraged by the native Universities and
grew to maturity abroad, re-acted on these Universities in turn ;
Philosophy in the Scottish Universities. 77
and in the middle of the 17th century, we have the distin-
guished name of Eobert Baron of Aberdeen, one of the
' Doctors ' who stood by Laud and the Service-book, a
metaphysician of wide continental reputation. By the side
of Baron, and even superior to him in originality, we must
place George Dalgarno, also of Aberdeen, the now well-known
author of the Ars Signorum, vulgo Character Universalis et
Lingua Ph ilosophica, London, 1661. Afterwards, Bishop Wilkins
took up the humble Aberdonian's idea, and made for himself a
name in his time.
In this connection I need not at present do more than refer
to the number and succession of original works contributed to
the literature of Philosophy by the occupants of philosophical
chairs in the Scottish Universities, since the old system of
Regenting was superseded by that of the Professoriate in the
first quarter of the last century. There is not a single Univer-
sity which cannot point to a name of some distinction in this
walk of literature, and the philosophical writings thus originating
have so many features of method and matter in common such
a general consensus in the development of doctrine that
they have appropriately been regarded as forming a distinctive
school of philosophical opinion. Those interested in the ' Kn-
dowment of Research ' might fairly be called upon to study
the philosophical literature of the last hundred and fifty years
which has emanated from the Scottish Universities. The views
of some of them regarding the province within which research
may profitably be conducted, might probably receive, some en-
largement. It might also be suggested that teaching and
research are by no means incompatible, rather mutually helpful.
In the Universities of Scotland at the present day, after all
the changes of constitution which they have undergone during
four hundred years, the subject of Mental Philosophy occupies,
if not an exclusive, at least a very prominent place in the
curriculum of Arts. For the degree of Master of Arts, this
department constitutes, as I shall afterwards show, a proportion
of requirements such as is not found in Oxford, Cambridge, or
Trinity College, Dublin. The teaching of Mental Philosophy is
addressed to a class of students of an age considerably higher as
a rule than that of those who undergo the classical training.
The Scottish Universities must, therefore, be judged as well by
the relative merits of Mental Philosophy as a study and a disci-
pline, and by the way in which it is taught, as by any compari-
son of them with Universities which aim exclusively, or even
mainly, at reaching a high standard in classics and mathema-
tics. Any criticism of the Scottish University system, or pro-
posed reform of it, which ignores or under-estimates the historical
78 Philosophy in the Scottish Universities.
and the actual place of Mental Philosophy as an essential part
of its discipline, is neither intelligent nor just.
In seeking to deal briefly with the course of Philosophy in
the Universities of Scotland, and the arrangements that have
been and now are in use for the teaching of it, reference must
be made to the changes of constitution which those Universities
have undergone, to the bearing of these changes on philosophical
instruction and to the progress of philosophical thought in the
Universities during the last four hundred years. It may
possibly be found that a review of those points has some
little instruction for us, now that a Eoyal Commission is dealing
with institutions, which have their roots deep in the past, and
which have grown up and been modified so as in the main to
suit the national requirements.
-The Scottish Universities were originally connected with the
Universities of the Continent, and their system of study. Al-
though the neighbouring English Universities were in existence,
they had no influence on the framework of those in Scotland ;
and while there is frequent reference to the constitution and
usages of Bologna, Paris, and Louvain in the records of the
Scottish Universities, there is none to Oxford or Cambridge.
The bright promise for Scotland which arose with David I. in
1124, had been darkened by the death of Alexander III. in 1286.
In the comparatively peaceful time before the death of Alexander,
John Baliol and his wife Devorgilla, the parents of King John,
had founded a college in Oxford, between 1263-68, with some
view to students from Scotland. And we find at least two
names of Scotsmen of historic and legendary mark who studied
at Oxford about this period. The one is Michael Scott, the
reputed ' Magus,' but really an able mathematician and learned
commentator on Aristotle. The other is his contemporary,
Joannes de Sacrobosco (Halywoode), whose treatise De Sphcera
Mundi was afterwards for long a text-book in the Scottish
Universities. Both of these, however, completed their studies
in Paris. The War of Independence which followed left no
leisure for the pursuits of learning. In it were destroyed or
crippled nearly all the abbeys and religious houses of the country
especially of the Lowlands which alone, by means of the
schools attached to them, had kept up any degree of learning
and culture in the country. The struggle between the Anglo-
Scot of the Lowlands and the Anglo-Norman of England the
spirit of individualism striving with that of feudal domination
which continued for many centuries onwards rendered it
almost impossible for the Scottish student, if indeed he existed
in those days, to repair to the neighbouring Universities of
England. Usually the northern aspirant after learning who
Philosophy in the Scottish Universities. 79
dared to brave the perils of a journey to Oxford, and the treat-
ment he met with there after he reached it, needed a special
safe-conduct from the English king. It was under such a safe-
conduct that John Barbour, the afterwards famous Archdeacon,
went to Oxford along with three students from Scotland. The
journeys thither were thus, doubtless, few and far between.
Usually it was a continental University, and especially that of
Paris, to which the future Scottish ecclesiastic or lawyer had
recourse. France during the Middle Ages was the natural ally
of Scotland. As early as the time of .Robert Bruce, when his
nephew Eandolph Murray was in Paris negotiating a renewal of
the Sco'to-French alliance, the patriotic Bishop of Moray, appre-
ciating the wants of the youth of his country, founded in the
University of Paris a College known as the Scots' College. This
and another College in the same University, that of Montacu^e,
were the favourite resort of the Scottish student down to 1411,
the date of the foundation of the oldest Scottish University,
that of St. Andrews. For Scotsmen to repair to the University
of Paris, both as students and Regents, was common even for
generations afterwards. The Scottish student was as familiar
in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries with the streets and
alleys of Paris, as he now is with those of Edinburgh or Glasgow.
The names and labours in Philosophy in the University of Paris,
in the early part of the sixteenth century, of John Major, " dis-
ceptator acutissirnus," George Lockhart, and William Gregory,
throw a lustre over the expiring day of Scholasticism.
The wave of continental learning at length reached the shores
of remote Scotland, and one century the fifteenth witnessed
the foundation of the three oldest Scottish Universities St.
Andrews first, as we have said, in 1411, Glasgow in 1450-1, and
University and King's College, Aberdeen, in 1494. Marischal
College and University, Aberdeen, was founded by George
Keith, Earl Marischal, about a century later, in 1593. The two
Colleges and Universities of Aberdeen were fused into one in
1860. Edinburgh, the creation of James VI., rose after the
Reformation in 1582. It cannot be said at any period of its
history to represent the model of the old European Univer-
sity. It never participated in the mediaeval organisation ; it
rose and it has won its fame and displayed its usefulness
as, what without disparagement may be named, a ' teaching
institution ' in the more modern period of the Scottish Univer-
sities. These, with the exception of Edinburgh, are a legacy to
the nation of the churchmen of the fifteenth century. That
they contributed to the overthrow of that Church which pro-
duced them, there can be little doubt. Until that fifteenth
century, the education and upbringing of the future Scottish
80 Philosophy in the Scottish Universities.
ecclesiastic and lawyer was foreign; he became associated in
feeling and culture with the great ecclesiastical and academical
unity of Europe ; a;id it is probable that, but for the institution
of the native Universities and the substitution of home influence
and associations for foreign training, the Scottish Reformation
an ecclesiastical revolution would not have been carried through
with so little upheaval of society as it was.
Those of the Universities of Scotland which were founded
before the Reformation, viz., St. Andrews, Glasgow, and Aber-
deen, thus carry us back to the continental Universities of the
twelfth and thirteenth centuries. In their earlier constitution,
they recall a foreign model, and in their subjects and manner
of teaching, they resemble the typical European University of
the Middle Ages. They were avowedly instituted as a part of
that great system of continental education, the head of which
was the Pope, and whose charter and license was a Papal Bull.
They were incorporated members of the great educational con-
federation of the Catholic world ; and their graduates had conse-
quently the privileges of continental graduates ; they were free,
as it was termed, of all the Universities of Europe. It was this
which made it easy for the Scottish students and Regents to flock
over Europe, and to pass restlessly from University to University.
" Sedem saepius commutavit " was said of George Buchanan.
It might have been said with equal truth of most Scottish
Regents and Professors abroad. The degree or license to teach,
the ready command of Latin, and the quick wit in dialectical
disputation, were all the poor Scottish scholar cared or needed to
carry with him from home. They were his passport through the
Universities of Europe, and they enabled him to work his way
to the highest offices of teaching in those seats of learning.
The two great Universities of Bologna and Paris the former
going back to a very remote time, the latter dating from the
twelfth century were the general models of the Scottish Uni-
versities. Directly, however, the exact constitution and most
of the arrangements in them were borrowed from Louvain.
And we know how Paris and Louvain arose. The oldest edu-
cational influence in Western Europe was a portion of the
logical treatises of Aristotle, translated by Boethius in the sixth
century. The Cloister-Schools of Charlemagne in the ninth
century rendered them directly available for purposes of educa-
tion, and those treatises, along with some sprinkling of ISTeo-
Platonism, afforded nearly all the intellectual nutriment of
Western Europe down to the twelfth century. In this century,
through the crusades, and especially intercourse with the Uni-
versities of Spain, the parts of the Organon not before known
to Western Europe and the other works of Aristotle psycho-
Philosophy in the Scottish Universities. 81
logical, physical, and metaphysical came within reach of the
cloister scholar in the form of Latin translations from the Arabic.
" Solus Aristotelis nodosa volumina novit
Corduba."
The scholars of Constantinople also contributed certain trans-
lations from the Greek originals. Out of this addition to the
scant treasures of learning arose, about 1142, shortly after the
time of Abelard's teaching, the beginnings of the second epoch
of Scholasticism. This is generally described as the fullest de-
velopment of the application of the dialectic method to theology ;
but in truth it was, through this application and the views
opened up in connection with it, a laborious working out of
thought to questions about reality of the deepest human interest.
To the possession at first of those portions of the Organon
known before and up to the time of Abelard, and to the
additions made in the twelfth century, we owe, in a great
measure, the foundation of most of the continental Universities,
especially Paris and Louvain ; and with the gradual discovery
and spread of the Aristotelic MSS. in Europe, grew up the
subjects of teaching in the Faculty of Arts the fundamental
Faculty of the mediaeval Universities, for to pass through it was
regarded as indispensable -to the study of law and theology.
Further in this twelfth century, the awakening intellect of
Europe was deeply interested by the discovery of the long lost
Pandects of Justinian. The same century was enriched by the
publication of the Decretals of Gratian, and the Sentences of
Peter Lombard. The study of those treatises soon came to
be eagerly pursued in an age deeply occupied with civil and
ecclesiastical organisation and theological dogma. They gradu-
ally came to be the subjects or text-books of instruction. In
the absence of printing, the books could not be spread over
Europe ; learners must come together from different nations to
hear them read and expounded ; hence teachers at common
centres became incorporated, and there thus arose over Europe
the mediaeval Universities, and in these the four Faculties of
Arts, Civil Law, Canon Law, and Theology. The Faculty of
Arts had for its aim instruction in the Aristotelic treatises ;
Civil Law had for its subject the Pandects of Justinian ; Canon
Law dealt with the Decretals of Gratian ; Theology taught, as its
Bible 1 , the Sentences of Peter Lombard. The pabaliim of the
mediaeval University was thus books, and its teachers were in
the main ' Eeaders,' whose obligation and duty it was
originally fixed by oath faithfully to expound the books, the
quodlibeta, prescribed by the annual committee of the Univer-
sity presided over by the Quodlibetarius.
This necessary historical sketch suggests two points for our
6
82 Philosophy in the Scottish Universities.
notice. The one is the method of instruction in the Scottish
Universities during these early centuries, and the other is the
material of instruction.
In theory, as is now generally acknowledged, every Master of
Arts was privileged to teach in the University. There was
even a period of two years after graduation of necessary regent-
ing. This was ultimately compounded for by the payment of
a fine. In the Italian Universities, before 1400, and in some of
the more western Universities, the practice of graduate teaching
had ceased, if, indeed, it ever was in general force. In Glasgow
and Aberdeen we find the salaried Eegent in existence from the
foundation of each University. There seems to be no evidence
of free graduate teaching in the Scottisli Universities. Salaried
Eegents, or Eegents having Church benefices, were the earliest
academical instructors. These were followed by unbeneficed
Eegents, who depended on the voluntary offerings of t&e
students. It was indeed owing to a provision of endowment
for the Eegents in Arts that the Faculty came alone to be fully
constituted in the Scottish Universities. Neither Civil Law
nor Canon Law appears ever to have reached the maturity of a
Faculty. In the pre-Eeformation Universities St. Andrews,
Glasgow, and Aberdeen and in Edinburgh during the seven-
teenth century, the practice of teaching by Eegents prevailed.
The system implied that the same teacher carried on his
students from the first year of their course to its close a period
of three years and a half when they were presented for the
degree of Master of Arts, having previously taken those of
Bachelor and Licentiate in Arts. One Eegent, therefore, in-
structed the same class of students in all the departments of
academical study.
Eegenting was essentially a method of teaching by means of
approved books. The Eegent read, expounded, and dictated to
the student, who was called upon to write carefully and at full
length the dictata of the Master. On these he was examined
and exercised, chiefly by means of the practice of disputation.
This, in its most public form, was known as ' determining '.
It took place in presence of the whole University. The meeting
was presided over by one of the Masters, who proposed the
questions, in Ethics or Metaphysics. The youthful students
of Logic (juvenes Logicse studiosi) showed their proficiency in
the art by there and then giving their opinions on the question.
The system had the advantage of a close personal supervision
of the student by the master, who was thus able to study and
influence the character of those under him, as well as watch
their intellectual progress. And so far as classical learning was
concerned, there can be no doubt that it issued in accurate
Philosophy in the Scottish Universities. 83
scholarship. Through the regenting system in the Universities
and the high standard of teaching in the Granynar Schools of
the country, Scotland, especially during the sixteenth century,
produced men whose Latin scholarship was as high as any in
Europe, and not to be paralleled at the time by any in Eng-
land. The names of George Buchanan, Florence Wilson, Henry
Scrimger, Arthur Johnston, and several others testify to this.
In Philosophy, however, the system of regenting cannot be
said to have acted so well. The teaching of Philosophy by
means of approved books is better than none ; but it is not a
good arrangement. Its tendency is to make little demand
either on the research or the power of active thought of the
teacher, and thus to repress originality. However much it may
conduce to accuracy in the mastery of the books, it is not likely
to promote the habit of original speculation either in master or
pupil, or to lead to progress in philosophical science. The
system, accordingly, though greatly fostering dialectic skill in
the mediaeval student, proved generally barren in respect of
original works in Philosophy. It certainly produced very able
and learned treatises particularly in Logic, and in dogmatic and
polemical Theology. The names of Major, Lockhart, Mark
Duncan, and Robert Balfour, alone testify to this, though it
should be remembered, that these men were not products ex-
clusively of the Scottish Universities, having passed into the
wider circle of European thought, and being frequently teachers
of Philosophy exclusively in fact, Philosophical Professors.
In Scotland, the regenting system continued witli some slight
breaks and attempts at reform, until the first quarter of the
last century, and even later. In St. Andrews, the system was
exchanged for that of the Professoriate at the union of the
Colleges there in 1747. In Aberdeen, it lasted down to 1754.
In Glasgow, a Professoriate was instituted in 1577. The Eegent
Morton carried out the ideas of Melville ; but regenting was
resumed in 1642. The professorial system was finally consti-
tuted there in 1727. The Edinburgh regenting gave place to
the professoriate in 1708.
The first point in the professorial system, as compared with
that of the Regents, is the restriction of the teaching of the
Professor to a definite subject one out of the many which
each Regent was called upon to teach. This leads to a con-
centration of energy on the part of the Professor, to a fuller
and more consecutive study of his subject, and it avoids the
distraction arising from the necessity of mastering, in probably
a general way, several subjects of instruction.
The second point is, that there is no restriction in the teach-
ing to specific books. The Professor is left free to arrange and
84 Philosophy in the Scottish Universities.
develop his subject as he chooses, and to contribute, if he can,
to its progress- in his lectures. He is thus able to give a
comprehensive and systematic view of the various points of
his subject, as opposed to that afforded by an ill-assorted
congeries of books. The greater concentration upon the de-
partment of which he treats, the freer spirit of research and
independent thought thus engendered, have certainly left
their mark on Philosophy in the Scottish Universities. Since
the institution of the Professoriate, upwards of one hundred
and fifty years ago, there has arisen (as said above) in Scotland,
and most of all in the Universities, a course of independent philo-
sophical thought continuous, yet with a common character and
tendency so marked as to entitle it to the name of a school,
and to make it influential in other countries, as, for example,
in France and the United States of America. In this particular,
the contrast between the comparative barrenness of the three
hundred years of the system of Regenting and the productive-
ness of the Professoriate does not admit of dispute ; and it
might be added that, so far as the discipline of the student in
Philosophy is concerned, there can be nothing more influential
than a lucid lecture and the following, from day to day, of a
clear, orderly, and consecutive train of thinking.
It is not my purpose to make any invidious comparison
between the English and Scottish Universities; but I may
point in this connection to the retention, almost exclusively, of
the tutorial or regenting system alike in Oxford and Cambridge.
As has been said, " down to the present day the College tutor
at Oxford and Cambridge is theoretically instructor in all sub-
jects, however heterogeneous and dissimilar ".* If, instead of
theoretically, we read actually, for the tutor is not de jure the
instructor the common or public instructor of the University
this statement is indisputable. We may add that the English
system retains also the material of book-teaching for the Degree,
which was a main feature of the old regenting arrangement.
It would not be straining an inference if we were to connect as
an effect with these two causes, the admitted absence of original
thought in the form of contributions to the progress and the
literature of Philosophy in the history of those Universities.!
The system of the Tutor or Regent is one that must always be
dependent for its pabulum its thoughts, in a word on sources
extraneous to itself ; and it is likely to be wholly satisfied with
* Westminster Review, No. xcviii., p. 342.
t Of late, in both Universities, there have been signs of awakening
original power in Philosophy. It has no. root, however, in any fore-
going thought in either University ; its inspiration is entirely foreign,
and it is the outcome of individual force, not of the system.
.Philosophy in the Scottish Universities. 85
tin's supply. What will 'pass' men for the Degree^ or get
them Honours, is the goal of its ambition. It looks simply to
what ' pays ' in the form of University imprimatur.
But a very important question arises, affecting the history
alike of Philosophy and Theology in Scotland, viz., What
were the materials of this system of Eegenting ? What were
the books and treatises, the ideas of which were constantly,
persistently, and even authoritatively impressed on the youth
of the country for nearly three hundred years ?
The ancient record of the Faculty of Arts in Glasgow gives
us an interesting glimpse into the subjects of instruction in
Philosophy at an early period after the constitution of the
University, in the reign of James II. In ' the old art of Logic,'
the ordinary treatises were "Liber Universalium Porphyrii,
liber Praedicamentorum Aristotelis, duo libri peri Hermeneias "
[Ilepl ( EpfjLrjvia<;, in a Latin translation] ; in ' the new Logic ',
" Duo libri Prior um [Analyticorum], duo Posteriorum [Analyti-
corum], quatuor ad Minus Topicorum, scilicet primus, secundus,
sextus et octavus, duo Elenchorum". In ' Philosophy,' they were
"Octo libri Physicorum, tres de Coelo et Mundo, duo de Genera-
tione et Corruptione, tres libri de Anima, De Sensu et Sensato,
De Memoria et Kemmiscentia, De Somno et Vigilia, septem
libri Metaphysicae ".* Among the extraordinary books, with
regard to some of which the Faculty might exercise discretion
in the examination, there are : The text of Peter Hispanus
" cum Syncathegorematicis, tractatus de Distribucionibus, liber
Gfilberti] Po[rretani] Sex Principiorum " ; in Philosophy, " Tres
libri Metheorologicorum, tractatus de Sphaera sine dispensacione,
sex libri Ethicorum, si legantur perspectiva, algorismus et prin-
cipia geometric," &c.f
A scrutiny of the list indicates exactly the progress of
Philosophy in Europe at the time. The Veins Logica here
referred to comprised the Isagoge of Porphyry and those portions
of the Orgn.non of Aristotle which were known and studied in
Western Europe up to the middle of the twelfth century (about
1 142). They were all that were known even to Abelard, at least
in his days of lecturing ; and they were known to him only in the
Latin translations of Boethius. They referred mainly to Terms
and to the Predicables, to Definition, Division, and Classifica-
tion, and certain grammatical analyses. The Nova Logica was
an advance' on the old, and eagerly hailed by the scholars of
Europe. It represented the other parts of what was afterwards
named the Organon, recently brought to Western Europe as
translations into Latin from the Arabic of the Moorish Univer.
* Munimenta, II., 25, temp. Jac. II.
t Munimenta, II. , p. 26.
86 Philosophy in the Scottish Universities.
si ties of Spain, and partly also from Syria and the East. To
the theory of Terms and Classification, it added the valuable
principles of Syllogistic and Demonstration, and a theory of
Fallacies. These were properly regarded as parts of Logic, or
the Science of Method the Instrumental Science and marked
off from ' Philosophy,' which comprised Physics, Astronomy,
and what we should now call Psychology, and Metaphysics. The
whole works of Aristotle were thus comprehended in the
curriculum of study, a body of thought and knowledge which
was not within the reach of any one in Western Europe until
the time of Alexander de Hales (1245), and which was not
spread over the continent until the period of the writings of
Albertus Magnus (d. 1280).
The reference to the text of Petrus Hispanus with the Syn-
categorematics is also significant. The text is, of course, the Sum-
midae Logicales, a work of the thirteenth century. It is divided
into seven tractates, the first six of which may be regarded as
representing both the 'old' and the 'new' Logic; while the seventh
section or tractate, on the properties of Terms, contained an
addition to these in the shape chiefly of grammatical discussions,
and was known as Loyica Modernorum, or Modern Logic, as
opposed to the Logica Awtiqua, which included both the Loyica
Veins and the Logica Nova. For the close student of the de-
velopment of Philosophy and Theology in the Middle Ages and
we are now in great measure the heirs of the language and the
discussions of that epoch these points, small as they appear,
are of deep interest. The grammatical discussions introduced
into Logic by Hispanus indicated the new nominalistic tendency
a protest against an abstract notionalism which, developed
subsequently through Duns Scotus and William of Occam, led
to the severance of Philosophy and Theology. This meant the
setting up of a portion of knowledge, that regarding the Trinity,
the Incarnation, Immortality, &c., as truths of Faith indemon-
strable by Reason ; and this led to new efforts to bring
Philosophy and Theology into unity. As Nominalism naturally
resulted in sense-impression as the last criterion of reality and
truth, the question at once arose as to wh ether these truths of
Faith had any warrant but that of dogmatic authority whether
they were to be regarded as having a scientific or philosophical
basis. We can readily see here the forecasting of that Modern
Philosophy and Theology which began with Descartes.
The Organon and the other works of Aristotle continued to
be the staple of instruction in the Universities of Scotland, all
through this and the succeeding century. In fact, the prevail-
ing influence of Aristotle continued through the whole time of
the Regents down to the final institution of the Professoriate at
Philosophy in the Scottish Universities. 87
the commencement of last century. But it gradually ceased
to be exclusive. Up to the period of the Scottish Reformation
it was absolutely dominant, and its power was only partially
broken by that event. The Universities themselves with which
Aristotle and the old Church were associated, suffered greatly
both before and after 1560. Indeed, the type of the old
medieval University may be said to have ceased to exist in
Scotland after the Eeformation. The system of regenting as
opposed to the professoriate was nearly all that remained of the
old organisation. When Glasgow and Aberdeen were restored,
there was a considerable change for the better in the subjects of
instruction. Through the influence of Andrew Melville and
Arbuthnot, a new life was breathed into Glasgow, St. Andrews,
and Aberdeen. Melville inspired Arbuthnot ; and Melville
may be taken as the type of the new spirit of the time. He
represented the new religion, the reviving classical culture, know-
ing Greek, Latin, and Hebrew, and while he was alive to the
new influences in Philosophy, he was considerate enough to
recognise the value of the old. Into Glasgow, in 1574, he intro-
duced Greek, and in " Morall Philosophic " he taught besides the
Logic of the time, the Ethics and Politics of Aristotle, the
new Dialectic of Kamus, the Rhetoric of Talaeus, the Offices and
Tusculans of Cicero, and certain of the Dialogues of Plato.*
Henceforward, Philosophy in the Scottish Universities meant
a greater breadth of study and culture. We see the begin-
ning of those sesthetical inquiries which afterwards resulted
in such books as Campbell's Philosophy of Rhetoric, and the
writings of Gerard, Hutcheson, and Blair. James Melville,
who continued the teaching of his uncle in Glasgow, tells us
that he himself was the first Regent in Scotland who read
Aristotle in the original. Up to that period, 1575, the philo-
sopher was known only in the translations of Boethius, and
in the Latin versions from the Arabic and partly from the
Greek of the scholars of Constantinople. After the time of
James Melville, we find express injunctions for the reading of
Aristotle in the original, and its viva voce exposition by the
Eegents. The influence of Melville and Arbuthnot on Glas-
gow and Aberdeen was felt in those Universities for the best
part of half a century ; but there can be no doubt that the
Scottish Reformation was not favourable to the progress of
letters or philosophy either in the Universities or the country.
The leaders of the Reformation were learned alike in Classics
and in Scholastic Philosophy. But their successors gradually
narrowed to a form of religious thought, which set authority
as high as the old Church itself, and re-acted badly on the cul-
* See James Melville's Diary, p. 38.
88 Philosophy in the Scottish Universities.
ture of the times. The Universities were ' purged ' of all ad-
herents of the old faith, and manj; cultured men were sacrificed,
probably as a rough necessity, to The cause of civil liberty. Yet,
had the scheme of Knox been carried out, and any considerable
part of the endowments of the old Church been given to the
Universities at the Eeformation, letters and philosophy would
have suffered but little in the long run. As it was, the lands of
the Church which were truly national property, the offerings of
the piety and the fears of four centuries, were appropriated under
the convenient process of ' Commendation,' by a rapacious and
illiterate baronage to their own purposes, in a self-constituted
Parliament. The only endowments of the Eegents, while acting
as teachers, had been their Church benefices ; and as these were
no longer available, the University offices fell in emolument and
in attraction for capable instructors.
Then in the succeeding century, during the time of Charles
I., there arose those civil and theological contentions under
which neither letters nor philosophy could be expected to
thrive. Yet to the Assembly of Divines at Westminster (1643),
where the theological debates culminated, and fermenting ideas
were crystallised, Scotland sent its fair proportion of able and
learned men. There Henderson and Gillespie showed, as Euther-
furd did at home, that the characteristic tendency of Scholastic
Philosophy the application of Dialectic to Theology was still
vital in Scotland. For the fervid zeal which inspired the great
and subtle debaters of the period from 1638, through the West-
minster epoch, and down even to the Eevolution of 1688, the
Covenanters, the Engagers, the Eemonstrants, the Eesolutioners,
was pointed to a sharp edge by the Dialectic of Aristotle, as
it had been learned in the Universities of the country. Nor
can it be disputed that the theological formulas, adopted by the
Scottish Church and Estates of the time, show evident marks of
the application to Christian doctrines of the dominant and
somewhat verbal metaphysics of the age.
In the General Assembly of 1639, in which the Covenant
was re-affirmed and the covenanting party was for a second
time triumphant, it was resolved that " all masters of Univer-
sities, Colleges, and Schools, all scholars at the passing of
their Degrees, &c., subscribe the same".* This was pretty
thoroughly carried out by a Commission of Visitation between
1639 and 1642, which was employed to ascertain " how the
doctrine is used by their Masters and Eegents, and if the same
be correspondent to the Confession of Faith and Acts of this
Kirk ". But in truth each dominant party and government in
turn applied its test to the Universities ; and there was a
* Peterkin's Records, p. 208. Burton's History of Scotland, VII., p. 81.
Philosophy in the Scottish Universities. 89
similar ' purgation ' and deprivation from office of the teaching
Masters, by means of the test of the Assurance and Confession
of Faith, under William and Mary, as under the party of 1639.
Both the Church and the Parliament sought to control the
subjects and matter of teaching especially in Philosophy.
There was no doubt a profession of consulting with the Masters
as to course and subjects of study ; but the real power lay with
the General Assembly and the Estates. They reserved the
right, real or assumed, of final judgment and determination both
as to subjects and doctrines of Philosophy.
The Commission of Visitation of the General Assembly, of
date 3rd August, 1640, recommended, on the suggestion of the
Masters of the University of Glasgow, " that, the first year,
beside the Greek tongue, there be a compend of Logic taught ;
the second year, beside the ordinary task (i.e., Logic), Tlepl
'Eppriveias be taught, with the elements of Arithmetic; the
third year, with what used to be taught (i.e., Ethics), that the
fifth and sixth Books of Aristotle's Ethics be gone through,
with a compend of Metaphysics, and that Arithmetic be pro-
ceeded with, and Geometry taught ; the fourth year, with the
ordinary task (i.e., Physics), Aristotle's book De Anima ".*
In 1647-48 the Universities, feeling apparently the incon-
venience of the power, nearly absolute, which the Assembly of
the Church assumed over them, and put sharply into practice,
formed themselves into a sort of common University Court for
the country, to which each University sent commissioners.
They met at Edinburgh, and, among other points, resolved that
" it was found expedient to communicat to the Generall Assem-
blie no more of our Universitie afaires, but such as concerned
religion, or that had some evident ecclesiastick relatione ". The
same commissioners adopted measures for promoting a corres-
pondence among them, and a uniform course of study. On
the 30th August, 1647, they resolved as follows : " It is fund
necessar that there be a cursus philosophicus drawn up by the
four Universities and printed, to the end that the unprofitable
arid noxious paines in writeing be shunned ; and that each
Universitie contribute thair travellis thairto, and it is to be
thocht upon, against the month of March ensewing, viz., that
St. Andrews tak the Metaphsiciks ; that Glasgow tak the
Logieks ; Aberdine the Ethicis and Mathematickis ; and Edin-
burgh the Physicks ".
Nothing seems to have come of this proposal at this time, or for
some years afterwards. The thirteen years of civil and ecclesias-
tical struggles which followed marked by the execution of the
King, the battle of Preston, the death of Montrose, the battles
* Muiiimejita, I., p. 454.
90 Philosophy in the Scottish Universities.
of Dunbar and Worcester turned men's minds from Cursus
Philosophici to matters of another sort. Shortly after the Kes-
toration, in 1664, the idea of a common course of Philosophy
was revived. After various negotiations between the Commis-
sioners of Parliament and those of the Universities, a final
agreement was come to in 1695. But the Commissioners of
the Universities were resolved that none of the compends
should be of foreign origin. They tell the Commissioners of
Parliament : " It is altogether dishonourable to the Univer-
sities, and the famed learning of the natione, that a course of
Philosophy shall be made the standard and course by authority
established, which non belonging to any of the Universities
have composed ".* They further criticise very sharply the
existing books and systems of Logic and Philosophy. The
existing courses of Philosophy are either not intended and
suited for students, or they are in themselves objectionable.
" The course that runs fairest is Philosophia Vetus et Nova,-(-
which is done by a popish author, and smells rank of that
religion ; but therein the Logicks are barren, and nothing of
the Topics, the Metaphysicks barren, the Ethicks erroneous,
and the Physicks too prolix." Neither the Logic of Derodon
nor of Burgersdick is to their mind. " Henry Moor's Ethicks "
cannot be admitted. They are " grossly Arminian, particularly
in his opinion de libero arbitrw". The Determinationcs and Pneu-
matologia of De Frize [Vries] are too short. Le Clerc is " merely
scepticall and Socinian ". " For Cartesius, Eohault, and others of
his gang, beside what may be said against their doctrine, they all
labour under this inconvenience that they give not any sufficient
account of the other hypotheses, and of the old philosophy,
which must not be ejected." J
Accordingly, the University of St. Andrews was appointed
to draw up the " Logicks and General Metaphysicks " ; to
Edinburgh was assigned the " Pneumatologia or Special Meta-
physics " ; to Glasgow was given the " General and Special
Ethics," including Economics and Politics ; the two Colleges of
Aberdeen had charge of the " General and Special Physicks ".
The treatises were completed and given in to the Commissioners
of Parliament in 1697, who were to have the power of revising
and adjusting them. Two of the treatises at least were printed
in London in 1701. The one prepared by Edinburgh is entitled
An Introduction to Metaphysicks (pp. 56) ; the other by St.
* Printed in Munimenta, Un. Glas., II., 530.
t This, I presume, is the Philosophia Vetus et Nova ad usum Scholae
accommodata in regia Burguridia oliin pertractata. Parisiis, 1681.
In four volumes.
| Printed in Mun., Un. Olas., II., 531.
Philosophy in the Scottish Universities. 91
Andrews, An Introduction to Logicks (pp. 56). The former,
like the metaphysical digests of the period, does little more
than arrange and define a series of notions. It contains, how-
ever, some acute remarks, especially on the terms Finite, In-
finite, and Indefinite. The logical compend is based chiefly on
the Logic of Port Royal. It is fresher and abler than the
corresponding tractate on Metaphysics, and discusses well the
accepted doctrines regarding Propositions, especially the rules
of Quantity and Conversion. After 1701, nothing more is
heard of the project ; and it had no practical effect on the
course of philosophical teaching in the Universities. It failed,
a^ it deserved to do.
These opinions and compends may be taken as the last word
of the Regenting system, and of the older philosophical teaching
of the Scottish Universities. This system had given a high
dialectic culture, and led to accuracy, precision and consecution of
thought. That the sensibility was not largely cultivated, or the
imagination enriched, was no inherent fault of the system itself.
The branches of studies which should have provided for these
important purposes, were either not existent, or they were not
fully recognised. It accomplished at least what was its proper
aim : that it was too exclusive, was to be charged to the general
arrangements of the Universities. Its defect as a system of
thought was that it had gone chiefly in one groove of study
a circle without forward progress. Advance of theory upon
theory there was none ; and many of the philosophical
questions of deepest human interest liad been left really un-
touched. The first half of the eighteenth century witnessed
the introduction of the Professoriate, and with it there arose a
freer, larger, more philosophical spirit. Ethics obtained a scien-
tific basis and treatment at the hands of Gerschom Carmichael
and Hutcheson ; and Psychology and Metaphysics assumed a
new form in the writings of Reid. This modern period must,
however, be left for another opportunity of discussion.
JOHN VEITGH.
(To le continued.)
IX. CRITICAL NOTICES.
The Functions of the Drain. By DAVID FERRIER M.D., F.R S. With
numerous illustrations. London, Smith, Elder & Co., 1876.
Ix this eagerly looked for work Dr. Ferrier gives a systematic expo-
sition of his own experiments on the functions of the brain, with a
critical digest of the results of inquiry into the cerebro-spinal system
generally. Struck, as every one must be, with the discrepancy and
even glaring contradiction among the results obtained by different
inquirers, he yet contends that by carefully directed experiments on
animals the foundations of a sure knowledge of the brain-functions
can be laid. Accordingly, though he allows that much still remains
to be done, he does not hesitate to put forward a body of results,
original and collated, which are by no means wanting in definiteness.
The book as a whole cannot but enhance Dr. Ferrier's reputation as
an investigator of remarkable acuteness and power. While following
with great pertinacity his own very engrossing line of enquiry, he
has managed to keep his eye upon the work of contemporary investi-
gators at home and abroad, at least such as bears most directly upon
his own. He has, moreover, by intelligent psychological study, fitted
himself to probe questions which the most accomplished physiologists
that are nothing more are apt to pass by or misunderstand. His
physiological results have been obtained with great skill, and, what-
ever may be said against his interpretations, they are at once clearly
conceived and forcibly argued. It is little to say of both that
they must henceforth be reckoned with, by psychologists as well as
physiologists, for any doctrine of brain in relation to mind.
The first three chapters, dealing with the structure of the brain and
spinal cord and the functions of the cord and medulla oblongata,
contain nothing particularly new, and may be passed over with ihe
single remark that the author by decisively rejecting the notion that
up to the medulla there is anything but " non-sentient, non-intelligent,
reflex mechanism," enables the reader to anticipate with some pro-
bability his view of the working of higher centres short of the highest.
He does, in fact, as the occasion arises, conclude of each higher centre
in succession that there is no evidence of its action having a subjective
phase till we come to the cortical substance of the brain itself, where
the subjective concomitant seems too apparently present for any
argument to be thought needful. It should, however, be noted that
in his arguments he takes little or no account of the view that there
are unconscious and semi-conscious states that may still be called
mental or subjective, and are presumed to be in relation with the
neural processes of lower centres. In so doing he might, doubtless,
plead the example of not a few psychologists ; still one could wish that
a view which has received not a little support from physiologists had
been considered by the way.
When he reaches the mesencephalon (corpora quadrigemina with
pons) and cerebellum, Dr. Ferrier is first called to compare the varied
researches of others with original (not merely testing) experiments of
Critical Notices. 93
his own. The centres just named are in relation not only with the
multitude of efferent nerves ending under the skin or in deeper-seated
parts, but also with the visual and auditory nerves of special sense : and
there is given (in ch. iv.) a very careful and distinct account of the
variety of impressions that are received and transformed into compli-
cated motor impulses after removal of the cerebrum in animals. It is
true that, as the grade of animal life is higher, the action of the lower
centres is less independent, and the disturbance of their function on
removal of the hemispheres is greater. Still the evidence forthcoming
from experiments on animals, supported as they are by clinical obser-
vations on man, leaves little doubt that the mesencephalon and cere-
bellum are specially involved in the three great motor functions of
equilibration, co-ordination of locomotion and instinctive expression
of feeling. Dr. Ferrier's own experiments, by electrical irritation of the
optic lobes in animals, seem to establish that the corpora quadrigemina
(with the pons) are concerned in all these functions, but more especi-
ally the last two. The cerebellum, by the same means, appears as the
great centre of equilibration, dependent as this function is on the
reception of extremely varied impressions, tactile, visual and auditory
(from the semi-circular canals). At the same time, the cerebellum is
not so exclusively possessed of this function as that the cerebral
hemispheres do not participate in it, and thus equilibration may be
maintained in spite of cerebellar decay, especially when this is gradual
There is no evidence (any more than for still lower centres) that the
cerebellum, great and developed as the organ is, has for itself aught to
do with conscious sensation or voluntary emotion. Neither has it any
relation (as was supposed) to the sexual function.
Passing now to the cerebral hemispheres, the treatment of which
occupies two- thirds of the whole work, Dr. Ferrier first explains the
methods which, as practised by Hitzig and himself, may be said to
have opened a new era in the history of brain-investigations. He
sufficiently justifies his own method of faradisation by the side of
Hitzig's galvanisation, and then defends their joint conclusions
against the objections urged by various later experimenters. The
defence is too perfunctory considering the eminence of some of the
objectors, Hermann not being noticed at all and Dr. Burdon Sanderson
being only partially met; and this is the more to be regretted, because the
original position is one for which not a little can be said. When it is
uniformly found that electrical stimulation of contiguous small areas of
the cortical substance results in perfectly distinct movements of
limbs, &c., it seems impossible to doubt that the areas (or some of
them more exactly determined by a supplementary process) are quite
specially concerned in the actuation of the movements ; and they may
not improperly be called motor centres, as the ultimate seats whence
the different motor impulses proceed, if none higher can be assigned
in the whole nervous system and it is not denied that centrifugal
fibres conduct downwards from them to lower centres, and so to the
muscles. It is the fact, too, as Dr. Ferrier does not fail to urge, that
such an interpretation of the experimental phenomena only bears out
94 Critical Notices.
the clinical conclusions previously forced upon Dr. Hughlings Jack-
son in his protracted study of localised convulsive movements in man.
We need have no hesitation, then, at least in taking the experiments
as a clue to the resolution of the functions of an organ which else in
its complexity quite baffles scientific analysis, and may now proceed
to see how far Dr. Ferrier's methods carry him.
He first offers a simple record of the results of electrical irritation
applied to the hemispheres and to the basal ganglia (corpora striata
and optic thalami) in a great variety of animals from monkeys to frogs
and fishes. The irritation, it is now well-known, as applied at differ-
ent parts, more or less definitely limited in each animal and homolo-
gous in the various kinds, results in movements special or general, or
in nothing at all that is manifest. Then arises the question of inter-
pretation. Movements, as Dr. Ferrier says, " may be the result of
some conscious modification incapable of being expressed in physic-
logical terms, or they may be reflex, or they may be truly motor in
the sense of being caused by excitation of a region in direct connec-
tion with the motor parts of the cms cerebri." To decide then, in each
case, what is the real character of the movements determined from ex-
citable areas, or to judge what may be the function of the regions that
are not excitable, other experimental light is wanted. Dr. Ferrier
accordingly resorts next to localised extirpation (chiefly by cautery),
and in order to have results, as nearly as may be, applicable to the
human brain, he operates chiefly on monkeys with brains approxi-
mating to the human type.
He finds, then, from both processes together, that while there is a
region that may be described generally as bounding the fissure of
Rolando (more particularly the ascending frontal and parietal convolu-
tions with the postero-parietal lobule), the destruction of which causes
complete motor paralysis of the other side of the body without loss of
sensation, there are other regions the destruction of w r hich causes loss
of sensation without affecting the powers of movement. These
latter areas, or sensory centres as Dr. Ferrier calls them, lie for sight
and hearing (angular gyrus and temporo-sphenoidal convolution respec-
tively) just behind the great motor region .; for taste and smell (appa-
rently together at the base of the temporo-sphenoidal lobe) below the
others ; and for touch (hippocampal region) on the inferior convoluted
surface where it turns inwards. The "sensory centres" with the more
forward " motor centres " occupy the whole median region of the
brain, corresponding with the areas excitable under electrisation.
Behind are the occipital lobes bounding the hemispheres backwards,
and these yield no positive result upon stimulation, but destruction of
them appears to Dr. Ferrier to involve the loss of organic or systemic
sensibility. On the other hand the extreme frontal convolutions,
which also are not excitable by electrical stimulation, appear when
destroyed to carry with them the power of attentive and intelligent
observation or the controlling functions of intelligence. As for the
basal ganglia, the optic thalami prove to contain the upward paths of
sensory impressions, and the corpora striata the downward paths of
Critical Notices. 95
motor impulses ; and the two are so connected as to have a certain
independent action, apart from the hemispheres, especially in animals
lower than the monkey ; but they are in no case sensory and motor
centres like the convolutions.
In this summary statement, which seeks to bring together the
salient points of Dr. Terrier's view of the different parts of the brain,
it is the doctrine of definite sensory (and motor) centres that most
calls for remark. His view of the basal ganglia needs to be strength-
ened by farther research, anatomical and physiological, though it seems
not improbable, founded as it is on original experiments and acute
criticism of extant results. As regards the functions of the occipital
and frontal lobes, his views require much more elaboration before
their psychological import can be seriously estimated : indeed he does
little more than throw out a suggestion as to the occipital lobes, one
too that is contradicted, or at least not supported, in a striking instance
to which he very fairly gives prominence ; while his supposition as to
the working of the frontal lobes has none of the precision that marks
the corresponding doctrine of Attention (to which he refers) advanced
in Wundt's Physiologische Psycholoyie. But there is certainly no
want of definiteness in his assertions respecting the sensory and motor
centres lying between the two uncertain regions. Neither, it must be
said, is his method of procedure in determining which of the excitable
areas are properly motor, and which are only indirectly motor (thence,
by inference, sensory), at all wanting in circumspectness. If it is the
case that the motor powers remain intact when any part of the brain
except a certain region is destroyed, and that they vanish when this
region is destroyed and this only ; again, within this region, that
particular movements are maintained or lost as certain deh'nite areas
and these only are left intact or destroyed ; while, once more, direct
electrical stimulation of the same region and its included areas results
always in the very movements, general and special, that are lost by their
destruction ; one does not see how the conclusion is to be avoided that
this region and the areas within it are the true centres whence move-
ments generally and the particular included movements are, as move-
ments, originated. What meaning is there else in the notion of
* centre ' applied to the brain, when (as before said) there is
nothing higher upon which the cortical substance is dependent ? Take
now a particular area lying just behind. Let it be found that
stimulation of this results in certain movements involved in the nor-
mal working of a particular organ of sense say the ear. Let it then
be found that, this area and this area only being destroyed, complete
deafness ensues, but the animal retains all its other senses and its
powers of movement unimpaired. Again the conclusion is inevitable
that here is a part of the brain which is, to say the least, involved in
the sense of hearing as no other part can be, and which may even,
with some show of propriety, be called a centre for hearing because
there is no higher seat in the cortical substance to which the
sound-impressions are carried as they are carried to this one. Of
course it should only be after a most varied series of experiments that
96 Critical Notices.
any scientific mind could dream of making such an exclusive state-
ment, the circumstances that have to be eliminated being extremely
perplexing, whether as arising from the fact that there are two
hemispheres with a supplementary if not compensatory action in each
as regards the other, or from the fact that presence or absence of
sensation can after all only be inferred from motor re-actions as
present or absent. But a candid reader will hardly deny to Dr. Ferrier
the credit of having been fully aware of the experimental difficulties,
and of having at once honestly and skilfully faced them. What then
is to be made of his assertions 1 Does he prove his case either at all
or in the sense for which he contends 1
The very definiteness of the view that extreme simplicity which
will make its fortune is in truth what most arouses suspicion. Not
only do other inquirers find direct experimental evidence that the
cerebral functions are involved with one another over the hemispheres
in the most intricate fashion, but it also seems clear on a variety of
grounds that the brain cannot be the simple aggregate that Dr. Fer-
rier suggests. ]n the way of direct evidence we have, for example,
Goltz declaring, on the strength of new and careful experiments, that
removal of any considerable portion of the cortex in dogs is uniformly
and permanently attended by reduced skin-sensibility, impaired vision,
and weakened muscularity on the opposite side of the body.* If this
be so, either there is no special localisation of motor and sensory func-
tions, but they are mixed up over the cortex, or at least the different
localised areas are much less independent than they have seemed to
Dr. Ferrier in the ardour of new discovery. One cannot indeed, in
hesitating to go all lengths with Dr. Ferrier, straightway adopt the
former alternative and refuse to go with him at all, as Goltz seems
to do. His experiments are much too exact and varied to be over-
turned by a different class of experiments not as yet equally varied or
exact : they can be refuted experimentally, one would think, only by
some inquirer who will perform them all over again and show r that
they have been at every step misrepresented or misinterpreted by Dr.
Ferrier. And this is hardly to be expected, more especially as there
is no intrinsic improbability rather the reverse in the view, that
impressions received by any organ of sense are all carried up first to
a particular region of the cortical substance before they are brought
into relation with other impressions and with motor impulses, or are
otherwise elaborated in the brain. It may well be that there are
special sensory regions in the brain-cortex, and that Dr. Ferrier has
given the first rough indication of their locality. But even apart
from conflicting evidence, seeing what the brain is, and the work it
* Dr. Ferrier has a supplementary note (to chap, ix.) upon Goltz's ex-
periments and makes light of them, partly on the ground that Goltz
was evidently unacquainted with his researches on the brains of monkeys
as already published in abstract (Proc. Hoy. Soc., 162) early in 1875. It
certainly lessens the value of Goltz's paper (reported on infra, p. 108)
that he makes no reference to Dr. Ferrier's later researches, but that
these " satisfactorily account for the phenomena," described by Goltz
is more than can be allowed.
Critical Notices. 97
has to do, one must gravely doubt whether there are such sensory
centres as Dr. Ferrier supposes.
Let it be granted that destruction of the hippocampal region in one
hemisphere abolishes tactile sensibility in the opposite side of the body.
It is not therefore proved that only touch is thereby affected, or that
all tactile representations are blotted out of mental being, as Dr.
Ferrier conceives of his " sensory centre" (chap. xi. passim). Peri-
pheral impressions may be utterly prevented from coming into con-
sciousness by the cortical lesion ; but it does not follow that the last
act of the nervous process involved in a conscious sensation of touch
is naturally consummated there and nowhere else in the brain, or that
in all that region there is no work done but such as (subjectively) we
call touch. On the one hand, the cortical substance is thick and his-
tologically by no means uniform in the direction of its thickness : what
may be transacted in or through the hippocampal area besides what
there happens for touch, Dr. Ferrier's experiments do nothing to tell,
except only that other sense-impressions are not there directly cut off.
On the other hand, touch (especially if understood, as Dr. Ferrier un-
derstands it, to cover besides skin-sensibility of every kind all that
others mean by the muscular sense) is a function so extremely wide,
being commensurate with the whole of objective knowledge presenta-
tive and representative, that to think of it as localised in one single
convolution of the whole brain is almost ludicrous. Even to suppose
that all tactile impressions, coming by such a multitude of nerves, pass
first to this one place is a considerable draft on belief. But assuredly
the whole work of touch is not so transacced there as that the area can
with any propriety be called the exclusive centre of the sense. And
the like must be said of the other all-pervading sense of sight which
Dr. Ferrier would locate in the angular gyms as a definite centre ; as
also of the sense of hearing, related as this is, through being involved
in speech, to all that is most general in knowledge.
On the whole, then, it seems impossible to allow that Dr. Ferrier
has done more than take a first step towards discovering the relation
of different parts in the brain ; nor is it possible to say thus far that
much psychological insight is likely to be gained upon the new line of
inquiry. Certainly, although he gives us in chap. xi. a view of " the
hemispheres considered psychologically " which is much above the
level of common physiological opinion, it does not appear to depend
specially upon his own investigations. And that we are now put in
the way to obtain a truly scientific phrenology, embodying what was
true in the old phrenological doctrine (the notion of definite organ for
definite function) but based, as that was not, upon exact anatomical
and physiological inquiry in relation to exact psychological analysis
this, which is becoming a fond conviction with many, is, to say the
least, a very premature hope. In some respects, the old phrenology
was itself more scientific than that which would now be substi-
tuted for it. The ' faculties ' it supposed were, many of them, such
as might well be conceived to be distinctively organised in the brain ;
though psychological analysis had little difficulty in proving them to
7
98 Critical Notices.
be not ultimate functions but only varied aggregates of the true ele-
ments of psychical life. Far otherwise is it with the elements them-
selves, among which there need be no scruple to rank the various
kinds of sensation. Differentiated as the organs of the senses are at
the periphery, and distinct as the nervous channels of each must be till
the convolutions are reached, sensations themselves as conscious states
(each sort appearing at the presentative, representative, and re-repre-
sentative stages, and all being liable to be associated or fused in every
possible variety) can neither be supposed to be consummated at their
first cortical station, nor be either traced or thought likely to be traced
farther by any experimental means yet devised.
No space is left to deal with the many other points of psychological
interest raised in Dr. Ferrier's important work ; chief among them
being his treatment of the so-called Muscular Sense, where he takes
ground very decidedly against those who attach the consciousness of
activity directly to the outgoing of motor impulse from the brain, apart
from any backward report (by afferent nerves) of its effect in the
muscles. I do not think he overthrows this doctrine, or by any means
establishes the contrary one, which he advances in chap, ix., and then
not seldom surrenders at the most critical junctures in chap. xi. But
there is not a little force in some of his objections to the doctrine, and
both these and the new light he throws upon the subject by experi-
ment deserve the most careful consideration. This it may be possible
to give on some future occasion, and the rather because the subject has
become one of the first importance in the psychology of the present
day. EDITOR.
The Vocabulary of Philosophy, Mental, Moral, and Metaphysical ;
with Quotations and References for the use of Students. By
WILLIAM FLEMING, D.D., late Professor of Moral Philosophy in
the University of Glasgow. Third Edition. Edited by HENRY
CALDERWOOD, LL.D., Professor of Moral Philosophy in the
University of Edinburgh. London : Griffin & Co., 1876.
Professor Calderwood in a prefatory note says, " The fact that the
Vocabulary of Philosophy by the late Professor Fleming soon passed
through two editions, shows that it has supplied a want felt by those
entering upon philosophic study ". It would be difficult for any one
who had carefully inspected the work to understand what philosophic
want it can possibly have supplied. Vocabularies of Philosophy are
generally of little value. From the very nature of the subjects which
must be dealt with, absolute definiteness of statement is not to be
expected. In small compass controverted questions cannot be handled
to any purpose ; and, as to quotations, it is unfortunately the fact
that great writers seldom or never so arrange their doctrines as to
render it easy for a vocabulary-maker to extract leading passages.
The consequence of course is that the quotations are generally taken
from abridgments or inferior compendia, while it is at the option of
the compiler to insert passages which flatly contradict one another.
Critical Notices. 99
There seem then to be objections to any Vocabulary of Philosophy
but, waiving them, it is undeniable that the compilation of a vocabu-
lary which shall be of real service to students requires great care and
rare qualities in the compiler. Such a work should at least be
thoroughly accurate both in the all-important respect of philosophic
doctrine and in the minor respect of references whether to books or
authors. It should, further, be careful to give the definition of any
peculiar term in the words of its author, and should rigidly exclude
obsolete or unnecessary terms. In all these indispensable qualifica-
tions the present Vocabulary is singularly deficient. It is full of
inaccurate references and misprints ; it is absurdly wrong in the state-
ment of some historical facts and philosophical doctrines ; it seldom
or never quotes a peculiar definition in the words of its author ; and
it includes a multitude of terms that have no significance whatsoever
in philosophy. These are heavy charges and can only be substantiated
by detailed reference. The following are some of the principal
blunders that have come under my notice : many more might be
added under each head.
I. Misprints or minor Errors : P. 6, Dobrisch ; p. 28, Tyler ; p.
29, Sematologia; p. 31, Kant's Antinomies badly stated; p. 50,
Trendelenburg Notce in Arist. (and the note from Trendelenburg
wrongly translated) ; p. 59, Bain's [Bacon's] Works ; p. 66, Caenes-
thesis ; p. 69, "Whatley ; Eosencranz ; p. 84, Savary ; p. 93, Bouvier ;
Jaques; p. 103, privity; p. 213, Nov. Or<j I. ch. [aph.] ; p. 262,
Burke Defence \ Vindication] of Natural Society ; p. 322, Baden,
Pervill [Baden Powell] ; p. 334, Abailaird ; p. 391, universality, par-
ticularita; p. 441, Mackintosh's View, fyc. ; p. 474, Critique du Judg-
ment ; p. 479, Stoeudlin, Hist, des Opinions, $c., [Staudlin, Geschichte
fyc.] ; Tisset ; p. 498, Boeham [Boehme]. Let these few instances
suffice by way of sample.
II. Errors due to Dr. Fleming :
P. 27. " Analytics is the title which in the second century was
given to a portion of the Organon or Logic of Aristotle." Which
second century 1 Does not Aristotle refer to the Analytics by name 1
P. 27. " Animism is the doctrine of the anima mundi as held by
by Stahl." Can Stahl's Animism be identified with the doctrine of
an anima mundi ?
P. 41. "In the third century Porphyry wrote Eiffa^w^, or an
Introduction to Logic." Is Introduction to Logic the title of Por-
phyry's Isagoge ?
P. 51. "The other form of Atheism in ancient times was that of
Thales, Anaximenes, and Heraclitus, who accounted for all things by
the different, transformations of the one element of water." Did all
three hold the same principle, water] Can they fairly be called
Atheists 1
P. 53. The article Atomism is one of the worst in the volume. (1)
The theory is stated as if due to Leucippus : " Leucippus con-
sidered the basis of all bodies to consist of extremely fine particles."
(2) The followers of Epicurus are said to have been the first to call
100 Critical Notices.
these particles atoms. Is this correct 1 (See Arist. Phys. Ausc. 2G5,
b. 29.) (3) Epicurus is said to have added nothing to the doctrine
of Leucippus and Democritus.
P. 70. Category is nearly as bad as Atomism. The explanation of
what the Categories are is simply ludicrous, while the historical
notices are most inaccurate. To take only the latter : (1) The Stoic
Categories are wrongly given. (2) Descartes is said to have two
Categories, the absolute and the relative. (3) The Port Royal Logic
is said to establish seven Categories. On what this assertion is based
I cannot tell. The seven mentioned in the Port Royal Logic (I. c. 3)
are referred to "some philosophers," and are treated with ridicule
rather than approbation. (4) Kant's Categories are said to be well
known and are enumerated as follows Quantity, Quality, Relation,
Modality. Nothing more is said, but the Editor adds a passage from
the Kritilfj which apparently is thought to be a definition of the
Categories.
P. 118. We are told that "Aristotle gave the title of Organon to
his Logic ". Did he do anything of the sort ?
P. 131. Dialectic is a bad article, bad in every way. How can
students learn anything from a book which gives them the following 1
" The &.ia\cKTucrj of Plato was the method of analysis by means of
language, and comprised the field which his successor Aristotle separated
into two, viz., A<\6/cT/rjJ Logic, the enquiry concerning Method ; and
2o0/o, Metaphysics, the enquiry concerning being."
P. 132. We are told that "Aristotle says there are two kinds
Sia\eK7tKwv Xo'^oji', viz., 'Evwyiaiy^ KUI 2f\\o7/0yio's' ". To the best of
my knowledge Aristotle does not say so, and I should be glad to see
the opinion extracted from the passages here referred to, viz., Top. I.
10, and An. Pr. II. 23.
P. 235. Can any one understand the following explanation of what
Kant meant by Immanent 1 " We make an immanent and valid use
of the forms of the understanding, when we conceive of the matter
furnished by the senses, according to our notions of time and space."
What Prof. Fleming understood by this it would be hard to conjec-
ture.
P. 282. Logic is mangled to a frightful extent. To go over all the
errors contained in the article would be wearisome. We are told
" The word logica was early used in Latin ; while ?} \o<ytKr) and TO
Xory/voV were late in coming into use in Greek. Aristotle did not use
either of them ". On the following page we have the sentence : " At
the beginning of the prior analytics Aristotle has laid it down that
' the object of logic is demonstration ' ". Both pieces of historical
information are inaccurate ; how they are to be reconciled, supposing
they were correct, is hard to see.
P. 334. Universalia in re is said to be the watchword of the
Conceptualists.
P. 359. " Sir W. Hamilton employs perception to denote the
faculty, and percept the individual act of perceiving." Is this to be
found in Hamilton ?
Critical Notices. 101
P. 375. The following brilliant definition of Fetichism is given.
It is " the worship of anything that strikes the imagination and gives
the notion of great power, which prevails in Africa and among savage
nations in general ". If this be so, I fear we must come under the
wide category of " savage nations in general ".
P. 401. Surely the Scottish student might expect to have an
accurate account of the Quantification of the Predicate. There is not
a word in the article to explain Avhat is peculiar in the doctrine ; we
get only the old rules for the distribution of the predicate in affirma-
tive and negative propositions, while it is vaguely said: "The Quanti-
fication of the Predicate is much insisted on by Sir W. Hamilton,
Lects. on Logic, i."
The above are for the most part positive errors. For specimens of
absurdity the reader may be referred to the heads :
(1) Catalepsy where appears the following naive piece of criticism:
" The paradox of Berkeley may be confuted in two ways : first, by
a reductio ad dbsurdum ; second, etc." Surely this is better than the
1 grin '. If Berkeley's doctrine can be reduced to absurdity, no
further refutation is necessary. The second argument, it may be
mentioned, is a fine example of ianoratio elenchi.
(2) Parthenogenesis which runs verbatim thus: "Parthenogenesis,
or the successive production of procreating individuals from a single
ovum, is the title of a work by Richard Owen, F.R.S., Lond., 1849 ".
(3) Scholastic where a new cause is pointed out for the fall of
scholasticism. " The taking of Constantinople by the Turks, the
invention of printing, and the progress of the Reformation, put an
end to the scholastic philosophy. Philosophy was no longer confined
to the schools and to preelections. The press became a most extensive
lecturer, and many embraced the opportunities offered of extending
knowledge."
(4) Stoic ; (5) Suicide.
III. Xo care is taken to give explanations of particular terms in
the words of their authors. This is particularly noticeable in the cases
of Leibniz and Kant. On the words Apperception and Monad, why
is the student given Dr. Reid's account, and not referred to Leibniz
himself 1 ? For Kantian phraseology, Hay wood is generally quoted.
Surely a Vocabulary published in 1876 ought never to refer the
student to a book which was bad even for the time at which it was
written, and which is now completely set aside by other works. If
Kant himself is not to be consulted, there are very fair lexicons to
his works published in Germany. It should be added that it is no
uncommon practice with Dr. Fleming to give in French the Latin or
German titles of philosophical works. The reason is perhaps not far
to seek, but for the student English would be decidedly preferable, if
the originals must not be given,
IV. Of useless or obsolete words, the following may be taken as
specimens : Adage, Adept, Adoration, Adscititious, Affinity, Apologue,
Apology, Apophthegm, Autocrasy, Blasphemy, Brocard, Chrematistics,
Civility, Consanguinity, Divorce, Economics, Gnome, Metaphor, Me-
1 02 Critical Notices.
tonymy, Monogamy, Palsetiology, Parable, Paradox, Philosomatist,
Proverb, Sciolist, Sciomachy, Zoonomy.
It cannot be said that the errors are in all cases due to Dr. Fleming.
The Editor himself is too often at fault. I do not think that any
Kantian scholar would accept the account given (p. 72) of Kant's
doctrine of Cause ; certainly he could not accept the explanations of
the important terms Constitutive (p. 110), and Regulative (p. 418).
Constitutive, according to Prof. Calderwood, " is applied to knowledge
verified in experience, knowledge whose object is found in the
concrete ". I venture to say that no such doctrine is to be found in
Kant, and that such an opinion is wholly foreign to the Kantian
system. It is too much to be told that " space and time are only
mental forms regulative of the mind in its use of the sensory," and to
be referred to a passage in the Kritik which emphatically states that
they are not regulative, but constitutive. And what is to be made of
this statement (p. 504) ? " In Kant's sense, transcendental applies to
the conditions of our knowledge, which transcend experience, which
are a priori, and not derived from sensative (sic) reflection." I )ialectic
(p. 130) is defined in a most arbitrary way, in a way for which there
is not the slightest warrant. Spinoza's Ethics is called a Dialectic.
German philosophers are credited with a view of Logic (p. 282) which
a large proportion of them would reject : a clause is introduced into the
definition of Miracle (p. 307) which is certainly open to question ;
and I doubt if Utilitarians would quietly accept the dogma (p. 343)
that their moral theory involves necessitarianism.
If students are to have a Vocabulanj of Philosophy, such a work
ought to be drawn up with the utmost care. It is utterly worthless,
worse than useless, if it be inaccurate and slovenly like this one.
ROBERT ADAMSON.
Vorschule der JEsthetik, von GUSTAV THBODOR FECHNER, Leipzig,
1876.
The announcement in the year 1871 of a contribution to experimental
aesthetics from the pen of the author of the classic Elemente der
Psychophysik excited, as the present writer well remembers, a good
deal of curiosity in Germany. A people trained in an exclusively
metaphysical discussion of art-problems might naturally be a little
puzzled at the application to the subject of a method so thoroughly
positive and exact as that unfolded in the Elemente. This essay in
inductive aesthetics was a very modest one, being confined to the
testing, by means of a convergence among distinct methods of observa-
tion and experiment, of Zeising's law of the Golden Section (namely
that the division of a linear magnitude into two parts according to the
formula - = - is the one beautiful proportion for the eye).
o a -f- o
This law and its experimental verification are re-discussed in the
present work. Fechner concludes that the Golden Section has a
Critical Notices. 103
special value though not the unique rank among visual proportions
claimed for it by Zeising. Whatever significance the thoughtful
reader may have been disposed to give to this result, he could not
but be impressed by the excellence and promise of the method thus
introduced into the region of aesthetic discussion.
In the two volumes of the present work Fechner has carried on his
aesthetic researches to a much further point. The book does not
profess to be a systematic treatment of aesthetics, but, as its title
(borrowed from Jean Paul) suggests, to prepare the way for such a
systematic construction. The aim of the writer is well set forth in
the first two chapters. He defines his method of inquiry as that
which works from below upwards, whereas in the prevailing
German system of aesthetics the direction is exactly reversed. He
does not wish to exclude the latter mode of construction, he merely
contends that here as in physics the employment of the method from
below is " one of the most essential pre-conditions " of a construction
from above. With respect to the fundamental conceptions of aesthetic
phenomena, Fechner is quite clear in referring all value in beauty and
in art to a pleasurable effect, and he seeks to connect the idea of
aesthetic worth with that of good in general interpreted by a strictly
hedonistic, or, as he calls it, eudagmonistic formula. This part of the
work will probably interest English readers not so much on account
of its intrinsic qualities of clearness, penetration, and grasp of subject,
as because it expresses the unqualified adoption of a theory of life so
familiar in our own literature by a leading representative of contem-
porary German thought.
After thus paving the way for his researches, Fechner at once
enters upon his main problem, namely, the determination of general
aesthetic laws or principles. He clearly recognises that such laws if
attainable at all must be capable of being brought under psychological
principles. He begins by formulating six leading principles as a first
instalment to a science of aesthetics. The first is named the principle
of the " aesthetic threshold " or " lower limit," the second that of
" aesthetic support " or " intensification ". Then follow three laws
which may be classed together as the highest formal principles,
namely, that of "the unifying connection of the manifold," of
" truth," and of " clearness ". Lastly, we have a sixth aesthetic law
under the name of the principle of " association ".
The first of these, which might be termed the principle of a liminal
aesthetic intensity, is merely an application to the particular effects of
pleasure of a universal law of sensibility which the author has fully
expounded in his Psycliophys-ik. It finds an expression for the
familiar fact that conditions which are of a quality to produce a
pleasurable impression fail to do so if they are not at the same time
of a certain quantity. Yet though a stimulus may be " below the
threshold," if it is combined with other stimuli also pleasurable it
may contribute an appreciable element to the result. This fact is
expressed in the second principle of aesthetic support which is thus
stated : " From these non-conflicting concurrences of conditions of
104 Critical Notices.
pleasure which of themselves effect very little, there arises a greater,
often a much greater, pleasurable result than corresponds to the
pleasure-value of the single conditions, or than could be explained as
the sum of the single effects. More than this, through a combination
of this kind a positive result of pleasure may be reached when the
factors are singly too weak to pass the threshold."
It seems probable that this second law might be regarded as a
necessary consequence from the first, by supposing that the combina-
tion of different sets of pleasurable conditions is equivalent to additions
of intensity in one and the same set of conditions. Fechner makes
most important use of this second principle in explaining the whole
aesthetic effect of an object. More especially he points out that in
the case of painting, and still more in that of poetry, elements of
sensuous impression which of themselves would afford us but little
if any appreciable delight may, by co-operating with the many
associated ideas called up by the object, contribute a distinctly recog-
nisable ingredient of pleasure.
In his third principle, that of the unification of the manifold (to
which the following principles are very closely related), the writer is
dealing with a more familiar proposition in aesthetics. Yet he
manages to introduce considerable freshness into the exposition of it.
What is more, he gives much greater precision to the principle by
determining the extent to which each of its opposite aspects unity
and variety may be emphasised to the neglect of the other, the most
pleasurable ratio of the unity to the diversity, and the several modes
in which each factor may be secured.
The treatment of the sixth principle, that of association, will
interest English readers chiefly as placing the influence of association
much nearer the point assigned to it by our own writers than where
German aestheticians usually leave it. The author, not without
reason, accuses his countrymen (with one or two exceptions, as Lotze)
of almost wholly overlooking the part played by this " indirect
factor " in aesthetic intuition. He illustrates the effect of association
by a number of very interesting examples, travelling through the
principal regions of art-impression as colour, visual form and tone,
and devotes special sections to its influence in landscape and its
bearing on the relation between painting and poetry. This part of
the exposition is very attractive reading, showing the author's know-
ledge of art no less than his psychological insight. It is appropriately
supplemented by a chapter devoted to an illustration of the influence
of the direct or non-associative factor in the impression of music and
of the visual arts.
The remaining chapters of the first volume deal with the experi-
mental methods already spoken of, with the place of the idea of
fitness in aesthetic appreciation, with the source of pleasure in witty
comparisons, riddles, &c., and finally with taste, its varieties, and the
laws of its development. The discussion of this last subject is
particularly instructive. The conditions which favour the develop-
ment of taste are carefully laid down, and a very creditable attempt
Critical Notices. 105
is made to define good and bad taste in relation to the eudsemonist's
standard of value. This chapter may perhaps savour a little of an
inclination to subordinate art to a purely ethical conception of life.
Yet the idea is well reasoned and forcibly expressed.
The larger part of the second volume is devoted to the consideration
of a number of art-problems which admit of treatment by means of the
fundamental conception of art and the principles already defined. In
this application of his theoretic premisses to circumscribed regions of
art-discussion, the author is no less happy than in the construction of
the principles themselves. He shows a very intimate acquaintance
both with the points most ardently disputed among art-critics, and
with the details of art itself, more especially perhaps those of the
visual arts. In the opening chapter Fechner raises the question how
far a work of art is to be estimated and criticised by help of a fixed
conception of art, and makes the important distinction that, though
the critic may reason safely from a conception of the function of art
as a whole, he cannot safely reason from a notion of what a particular
art has to achieve. The one aim of all artistic production is an
immediate and adequate pleasurable impression, and even if " a work
of art were to be produced which could not be brought altogether
under any one of the separate arts, nevertheless so far as it satisfied
the general aim of art, one would have to see in it nothing but a
gain." Other rules for the guidance of criticism, no less valuable, are
arrived at by a similar method.
The bearing of clear and scientific ideas of art on the practical
problems which engage artists and their critics is well illustrated in a
chapter which deals with the dispute between the assertors of the
supreme value of form, and those who lay stress on the content or
matter of art. Here the various possible meanings of form and
matter in relation to art are carefully distinguished, with a view to
define the problem. The antithesis is shown to be at best a rough
and incomplete one, and ill-fitted for an adequate critical view of a
work of art. Moreover, as might be expected, each of the opposed
views is regarded as one-sided and misleading. The careful manner
in which both form and matter are defined and analysed into their
respective elements of pleasure with a view to assign each its right
place in art, can only be understood by a reference to the chapter
itself.
After disposing of the dispute between the champions of form and
of content, Fechner deals with the other vexed question in practical
aesthetics, that between realism and idealism. Has art to aim at a
faithful portraiture of nature, or at a representation of an ideal which
transcends nature 1 Here again the author is able by help of his
leading conceptions of art to expose the one-sidedness of each of the
rival views. The antagonism is bridged over and reconciled simply
by a careful and thoroughly scientific discussion of the sources of
value both in the imitation of nature and in ideal beauty. In other
words, art has to seek truth and to seek ideality just because, and
only so far as, each of these is a condition of a total pure and lofty
106 Critical Notices.
pleasure. The investigation of the psychological grounds of the value
of truth and imitation deserves the special attention of the reader.
It is a very valuable contribution to a scientific settlement of art-
problems.* On the other hand, the conception of ideality in art,
together with its precise value, is closely examined. Also, Fechner
discusses the different modes of deviating from nature, which he
reduces to three, namely, Idealisation, Symbolisation, and Stylisation,
or conformity to the ends of good style. The ambiguity attaching to
these terms is well set in light, and a very successful attempt is made
to give them a precise connotation, and so to arrive at their proper
value as functions of art. The result of this long and interesting
investigation seems to be that according to a hedonistic conception of
art, truth according to nature must be ranked much higher than is
commonly the case in contemporary art. Fechner will probably be
accused by many of having a decided bias to realism ; yet his argu-
ment seems to me perfectly impartial and on the whole thoroughly
convincing.
We must pass over certain chapters that invite delay, among which
is one on the Sublime not unprovocative of some adverse criticism, to
dwell on " a second series " of aesthetic principles too briefly ex-
pounded at the close of the work. These consist, like the first series,
of laws which have a bearing on pleasure in general quite as much as
on art-pleasure. They are psychological conditions of pleasure defined
in relation to the peculiar effects of art. First of all come three
principles relating to the best order of impressions, namely, that of
aesthetic contrast, of aesthetic sequence, and of aesthetic reconcilia-
tion. The meaning of contrast as something over and above the
result of the single contrasting impressions is well defined, and its
conditions laid down. The obvious but aesthetically important
observation is made that among sequent impressions the effect of
contrast can show itself only in the consequent not in the antecedent.
With this proposition there connects itself a second, namely, that a
sequence in a positive direction, that is from maximum pain to maxi-
mum pleasure, is attended with a secondary pleasure, the result of con-
trast, while one in a negative direction (from pleasure to pain), is
accompanied by a secondary pain : hence the aesthetic law that
impressions should proceed in a positive direction. The value of the
final reconciling impression, which is formulated under the third
principle, is closely connected with this second. Here, however,
Fechner seems for a moment to be forsaken by his customary com-
prehensiveness of view, since he makes no reference to the rather
obvious consideration that the concluding impression, say of a tragedy,
owes its importance not only to the effect of contrast and to its being
* The present writer will perhaps be forgiven for expressing his
pleasure at seeing his own line of investigation almost exactly repro-
duced by such an authority in method as Fechner. The reader will find
that Fechner' s treatment of this question, more particularly the deter-
mination of the value of imitation as a source of pleasure in art, follows,
unconsciously as it seems, the path roughly traced in the last Essay in
Sensation and Intuition.
Critical Notices. 107
anticipated throughout a part of the previous impressions, but also to
its being the impression which survives most vividly as an idea, and
so most distinctly colours the after-recollection of the whole chain of
impressions.
Next to these principles we have a number of others relating to the
intensity and duration of pleasurable impressions, namely, the duration
required for the full rise of an impression, the effects of repetition and
exercise in improving an impression, the blunting result of undue
prolongation and of too frequent repetition of impressions, the effects
of habituation in producing a recurring want or desire, and the limit
imposed on pleasure through the nerve's liability to exhaustion and
the attending sense of fatigue or satiety. These principles are given
as psychological truths, and not fashioned into special aesthetic laws.
Moreover, they are touched on much too lightly to be of very much
value, though the author succeeds in showing the way in which these
several influences cross and modify one another. In another chapter
we have, with somewhat more fulness of exposition, the important
conditions of a certain amount of persistence and of change in the
kind of mental activity, as well as a certain quantity of activity and
change of degree in activity. Here Fechner teaches that, quite apart
from the pleasurable character of the occupation, a certain amount of
persistence in an activity once commenced tends to be agreeable,
whereas beyond certain limits change becomes desirable. Also an
activity is at an advantage when it has a sufficient but not excessive
quantity or intensity, and a certain amount of change in the degree of
activity is desirable.
After these principles follow others relating to the effects of the
manifestation of pleasure and pain, and of what Fechner calls " the
secondary pleasure and pain of representation ". The " primary
pleasure of representation " is that which flows from the act of
representation itself, as a perception of unity, the secondary is that
which follows from a representation of a pleasure, as another's enjoy-
ment, our own past or future happiness. The conditions which limit
and complicate the fundamental effect of ideas of pleasure and pain,
namely, that to perceive or conceive pleasure is pleasurable, and so
with pain, are set forth clearly and with sufficient fulness. Passing
over a chapter on the principle of the aesthetic mean, which formu-
lates the familiar truth that a medium average magnitude in objects,
such as experience has rendered customary, is most pleasing, we
arrive at a chapter which discusses the question how far all the
conditions of pleasure can be reduced to one principle. Fechner
thinks that as yet this is impossible except in a very hypothetical
way. He is decidedly opposed to basing all pleasure on quantity of
nervous energy, and the argument by which he seeks to refute this
theory seems to me to be quite conclusive. He then briefly shadows
forth the idea worked out in his Einiye Idcen zur Schopfungs- und
Kntwicklungsr/e&chichte, that all pleasure may repose on harmonious
relations of form in the single nervous process or the combining
processes, and that this harmonious relation is but a part of those
stable arrangements which are the end of nature as a whole.
108 Reports.
To conclude, one may safely guarantee the reader no ordinary
pleasure in perusing a discussion marked alike by so much scientific
impartiality and insight, as well as general appreciation of the aims and
possibilities of art. His only regret will probably be that so much
that is deeply interesting is touched with a seemingly hurried hand
that lacks time to linger and do justice. Yet we must be grateful for
all that Fechner's large experience and ripe thought have here given
us, not murmur at what is wanting. To show the reader what
Fechner's style is like, and that he is not altogether unworthy as
a philosophic critic to follow his countryman Leasing, I cannot do
better than conclude by making one short quotation. Arguing
against the common tendency of artists at present to idealise or
prettify all their figures, he writes :
" In the wedding of a peasant girl, the bride may be represented as
a pretty woman ; for why exact from a painter to paint a marriage
with an ugly rather that with a pretty bride 1 One would rather
marry a pretty girl, one would rather paint such a one, and see her
when painted. Where no interest attaches to a scene, it should not
be painted at all, and for the most part the interest in a scene cul-
minates in a person as a centre of relations. l^ow if the bride
is pretty, not only she herself but all her surroundings gain in
interest and charm. When however the peasant girl looks not only
pretty but also fine, when the bridesmaids and the women looking on
are all pretty, or at least have interesting faces, we have no longer a
peasant wedding but only the masquerade of one, and all the relations
lose in interest and charm through the feeling of unreality."
JAMES SULLY.
X. EEPORTS.
Functions of the Cerebrum. In Pfliiger's Archiv xiii. 1, Prof.
Goltz of Strassburg gives an account (pp. 43) of an elaborate series
of experiments he has recently conducted (with his assistant, Dr.
Gergens) on the effects of extirpation in the region of the cerebral
hemispheres. The special object of the research was to determine
how far and in what way there ensues a compensation of function
after the removal of parts of the hemispheres. Among previous
inquirers the difference of opinion on these points is notorious.
While Flourens went so far as to suppose that the least remnant of
the cerebrum might suffice for the discharge of the functions of the
whole mass, Carville and Duret maintain that the compensation is
limited to parts of the same hemisphere, and Soltmann contrariwise
declares that loss of the function of one part is made up at the cor-
responding part of the other hemisphere. Hitzig, again, differs from
them all. Ascribing absolutely special functions to quite limited
areas of the cortical substance, and these different for the two hemi-
spheres, he can only suppose that restoration of lost function (which
supervenes often with great rapidity) is due to the presence of some
Reports. 109
unsuspected relic of the original area ; thus denying symmetrical
compensation between the hemispheres, and denying all but the most
strictly limited compensation within the same hemisphere.
Goltz confined his research to dogs, and practised a new mode of
experiment (detailed at length in the paper) whereby he avoids exces-
sive hemorrhage, and can maintain an animal alive for months. It
consists in washing out by a strong jet of water part after part of
the cortical substance, the animal all the while being under chloro-
form ; the greater blood-vessels thus escape rupture, and the animal
recovers very quickly from each operation. In this way Goltz has
been able to get rid gradually of the whole cortex of one hemi-
sphere and keep the animal alive comfortably for weeks afterwards,
while the effects, immediate and remoter, were under observation.
These he disposes under three heads : disturbances of (1) Sensation,
(2) Vision, (3) Movements. The degree of disturbance increased with
the size of the area extirpated, but its character did not, as far as
appeared, depend on locality, there being no difference whether the
operation took place within Hitzig's ' excitable ' region or far back
behind it.
(1) By Sensation is meant the skin-sensibility in all its phases, for
Goltz does not allow the distinction that Schiff and other physiologists
would make out between sense of pain and sense of contact or pres-
sure in the skin. This general skin-sensibility almost all inquirers
have believed to be unaffected by destruction of the cerebral convo-
lutions, though it is allowed to be temporarily disturbed by the
operation. Goltz, on the other hand, finds that after partial or total
extirpation of one hemisphere the animal never (at least as far as he
has yet gone) recovers full tactile sensibility on the opposite side of
the body, where just after the operation it appears wholly lost. The
sensibility may often seem to have returned from the general de-
meanour of the animal, but careful experiment with pressure of
weights shows that the skin on the side affected remains comparatively
insensitive. This was clearly manifest everywhere except only on
the side of the tongue.
(2) The effect upon Sight is distinctly marked, though it is peculiar.
It is known that complete extirpation of both hemispheres (in frogs)
does not prevent the performance of suitable movements upon visual
impressions, and partial destruction of one hemisphere has commonly
been supposed to have none but a temporary effect on vision (of the
opposite eye). Goltz finds a permanent effect of a serious kind. The
initial total blindness of the (opposite) eye, it is true, passes quickly
away, and this happens even if the whole cortex of the one hemi-
sphere has been destroyed ; wherefore it must be supposed that each
eye communicates with both hemispheres. But at the same time,
the experiments seem to prove that the sight of the opposite eye is
never quite recovered, if the whole or any considerable part of one
hemisphere is destroyed. The animal is able after a time with this one
eye to guide its movements well enough, and with the help of its other
senses it manages to hold its own among its fellows, but the character-
110 Reports.
istic emotional effects accompanying vision, e.g., the fury dogs show at
sight of strange objects, or fear on being held out of a window at a
distance from the ground, remain quite absent. Goltz supposes that
the sense of colour becomes faint and confused, also that the judg-
ment of distance, &c., is affected; the animal's experience becoming
something like ours in a mist. To note the effect of hemispherical
destruction upon one eye, Goltz wholly removed the other eye, and
his experiments strike one as well varied and carefully made. He
does not seem, however, to have varied the experiment in one way
that would have been useful leaving both eyes intact but affecting
each equally through the corresponding (opposite) hemisphere.
(3) Movements, as such, are seriously affected, but it is necessary
here also to distinguish between mere passing effects and such as
remain. The initial muscular helplessness on the side affected by the
hemispherical lesion is after a short time so far made good that noth-
ing unusual might be remarked, but it is easy to see when the animal
is on a slippery footing that there is real weakness on one side. It is
also found that the animal never uses the front paw on this side for
any of the many uses to which it would naturally be put. So in
dogs that are trained to present either paw at command, the power
of presenting one is lost, and though this may after small destruction
be slowly regained, it is lost altogether if this destruction be carried
far : one and the same paw is then always presented, whatever the
demand. Similar weakness is shown in all the muscles of the same
side (except the tongue) \ nor, if the destruction is considerable in
extent, does it matter whereabout in the hemisphere it is. Some of
the phenomena seem due to the general loss of sensibility noted under
(1), but the inability, in spite of evident effort, to present the paw
asked for, points to a real break between the organ of the will and
the nerves that execute special volition. This must be so, although
the muscles of the limbs, &c., are found to work effectively enough
in the regular mechanical functions of walking, running, &c. As
regards the one whole side of the body, it seems that there is a
weakening of all the efferent processes under the control of the organ
of conscious volition, because this organ, in as far as it is still present,
appears to be connected with that side by less convenient channels
than it is with the other side.
Goltz is thereby led to reject the theories of all his predecessors,
and he believes that they in truth dispose of one another. Hitzig
(and Ferrier, to whom he just refers) he especially charges with
neglecting the difference between transitory and permanent effects :
the permanent effects, as far as they are established, are of a kind not
to be reconciled with the assumption of definite localised motor
centres, however the limits of these be construed. Goltz's own view
is that the restoration of function, after greater or less destruction of
the hemisphere, is due to the cerebellum (which normally contributes
to the action of the hemisphere) recovering from the stoppage tempo-
rarily caused by the operation and resuming its previous action. Thus
is explained the fact that it is the mechanical movements of walking,
Reports. Ill
&c., which are chiefly recovered, these being the ones to which the
cerebellum and related parts mostly contribute. But how as to the
temporary stoppage of function ? Here Goltz adduces a great number
of facts and considerations to show that in all cases where higher
centres are violently excited there is an inhibitory effect upon lower
centres ; but, if the higher centres be cut off from the lower ones,
the inhibitory effect arising from the wound gradually passes away
and the lower centres recover their normal function. It is such an
inhibitory influence then that the cerebellum, &c., suffer from the
cerebral lesion. Not till it passes away and these have begun again
to function normally, can it be seen what is the actual loss from the
hemispherical destruction. That this is very real appears from the
experiments detailed above ; and that it is ever compensated there is
no reason to suppose. A new growth of brain-substance to supply
the gap made does not take place in the higher animals ; though what
remains of the original cortex tends to spread out into the space
left free.
Goltz promises to deal with the psychical effects of his experiments
in another paper, but his present communication has no small psycho-
logical import in as far as it indicates the wide-spread character
practically the omnipresence over the hemispheres of the nervous
connections involved in touch, sight, and movements. As far as it
goes, the research bears decidedly against the views of Hitzig and
Ferrier, especially as now developed by the latter. And it is not less
but rather more decisive that the AiLsfallserscheinangen (as Goltz
calls them) or permanent deficiencies of function are demonstrated
always supposing them really established in dogs whose lower motor
centres (as Dr. Ferrier argues, Functions of the Brain, p. 73) are
much more independent of the hemispheres than in monkeys.
EDITOR.
The Laws of Dream-Fancy. In the November number of the
Cornhill Magazine the present writer has endeavoured to carry the
physiological explanation of dream-phenomena as far as can be done
in the present state of the science. Three problems arise in connection
with the subject: (1) Whence come the vividness and apparent
reality of dream-images 1 (2) What are the sources of stimulation
from which the various contents of our dreams are derived 1 (3)
What gives to our dream-combinations their peculiar form and order 1
(1) The reality of dream-images is accounted for through the absence
of what M. Taine calls the ' corrective ' of a present sensation. It is
possible also that absolutely as well as relatively our dream-images
are more lively than our waking imaginative representations. (2)
The sources of .dream-excitation have been investigated on the psy-
chological side by Hartley, on the physiological by Maury, Wundt,
and others. They may be divided into peripheral and central. The
former include (a) objective sensations, properly so called (as illus-
trated by M. Maury's interesting experiments), (b) subjective sensa-
tions, together with (c) the feelings arising from the position and
112 Notes and Discussions.
condition of the muscles, and not least (d) those connected with the
several organic processes. The central stimulations, again, may be
divided into (a) the direct, which appear to arise immediately from
some unknown influence excited by the contents of the blood-vessels
on particular tracts of the brain, and (b) the indirect, or those effected
through acquired cerebral connections or the bonds of mental associa-
tion. (3) As to the form of dream-combinations, the least perfect
and passive dreams owe their peculiar incongruity to the number and
variety of the wholly disconnected sources of stimulation which
simultaneously supply images to consciousness. More particularly
the various degrees of irritability of the cerebral elements at the time
serve very much to complicate and confuse the grouping of images
and to explain why the ordinary paths of association traversed in
waking hours are so seldom followed. In the case of the more
elaborate and closely connected dreams, much of the verisimilitude
arises from the action of organic dispositions or general tendencies of
association which serve as so many rough forms of dream-thought.
Such a general disposition would account for our attributing some
kind of words and actions to the image of a man or woman which
presents itself, though what the particular words are to be depends on
the co-operation of the several existing causes already spoken of.
Hence the mixture of a general reasonableness with a particular incon-
gruity which marks so many of these dreams. Next to these in-
fluences, one must reckon the play of attention under the sway either
of an impulse for rational unity, or of a dominant emotional tone
somehow excited at the time, which tends to harmonise all inflowing
images with itself. In the act of fixing attention on the internal
imagery of our dreams we unconsciously modify it, selecting, adapting
and fusing according to the pre-existent ideas or emotional tone. The
emotional key which dominates so many of our dreams is fed by the
effect of previous images and still more largely by the pleasurable and
painful organic sensations of the time. The essay concludes with an
attempt to explain, by a number of influences already touched on, the
power of gradual exaggeration into which dreaming is apt to fall, also
what the Germans (as Schemer and Volkelt) call the symbolic
function of dreams, and lastly our usual non-recognition of the bodily
sources of dream-impressions.
JAMES SULLY.
XL NOTES AND DISCUSSIONS.
On some alleged distinctions between Thought and Feeling. In
noticing the Psychology of Brentano in MIND, No. I., I dissented from
his explanation of the difficulty of distinguishing in a satisfactory manner
the ultimate generic facts of consciousness, and affirmed that the main
cause of the failure of the distinctions which had been attempted to
be drawn was not the impossibility of inner perception becoming
inner observation, but the immense variety of forms in which the
ultimate facts of consciousness manifest themselves. I referred in
Notes and Discussions. 113
illustration to the distinctions between Thought and Feeling laid
down in Fleming's Manual of Moral Philosophy, Pt. I., Introd., ch.
iii. I believe that Fleming has there brought together all the distinc-
tions that are currently recognised as discriminating the intellect
from the sensitivity, and that by indicating how superficial and unten-
able most, if not all, of them are. I shall show the necessity for a new
and more thorough investigation of the relationship of these two great
provinces of mind.
The first of the distinctions laid down by Fleming is, that " In
cognitions, or the phenomena of intellect, there is a dualism which is
not implied in feelings, or the phenomena of sensitivity. To know
there must be an object of knowledge, and the object known is different
from the object knowing. To feel is merely to experience a modifi-
cation of self. A state of feeling is subjective and one. An act of
knowing involves the antithesis of subject and object." Now, is this
distinction tenable ? It seems to me that it is not. Feeling no less
than thinking is a fact of consciousness, a form of consciousness, and
all consciousness involves a dualism. That is its primary condition.
An absolute unity in consciousness is inconceivable. The terms of
the relation may even in cognition be self and a modification of self ;
the object is not necessarily apart from or out of the Ego. But
wherever there is consciousness there is relation, and wherever there
is relation there is dualism, and to say that feeling involves no distinc-
tion of self and its modification is simply to deny that feeling is a
form of consciousness. We can no more feel without feeling that we
feel than we can know without knowing that we know. Feeling is
not a something independent of that dualism which is the necessary
condition of consciousness but a something superadded to it. It is
not a something absolutely one. Were it so, it could not be a mental
fact at all. If in any sense a unity, it is a unity which involves a
dualism, which depends on a dualism for its very existence.
The second distinction laid down is, that " Cognitions are character-
ised as true or false ; feelings as pleasurable or painful, agreeable or
disagreeable". This is supported by a quotation from Reid which
states merely that feelings cannot be expressed in propositions do
not affirm or deny, are not true or false, like judgments, have not
the qualities which distinguish judgments from all other acts of mind.
But that certainly says nothing for Fleming's distinction. Judgments
are one thing ; cognitions are another. Judgments are only a kind of
cognitions, and it is not correct to predicate of the genus, cognition,
what is true merely of the species, judgment. Reid says the qualities
of true or false distinguish judgments from all other acts of mind. If
so, they distinguish them from a great many kinds of cognitions, from
all varieties of simple apprehensions, and thus distinguishing judg-
ments from other cognitions, it is manifestly impossible that they can
distinguish these latter cognitions from feelings. It is, further, cer-
tainly not to be assumed that feelings are pleasant or painful, agreeable
or disagreeable, seeing that many psychologists have held that, owing
either to feebleness of impression or of the contact and counteraction
8
114 Notes and Discussions.
of pleasure and pain in an equal degree, they may be indifferent, and
Prof. Bain has argued that emotion may exist even as excitement not
pleasurable or painful.
The third distinction laid down is, that " Cognitions are permanent,
invariable, and uniform, while feelings are fugitive and variable, and
differ, not only in different individuals, but in the same individuals at
different times". This is likewise quite untenable as a general dis-
tinction. There is a little truth in it but there is more error. Know-
ledge in the form of science may be, at least comparatively, "permanent,
invariable, and uniform," but the cognitions of the individual are
certainly not always so. Opinions like tastes are various. What
seems true to one does not seem true to another, just as what pleases
one does not please another. What seems true now may hot seem
true to the same person hereafter ; and what seems false to him now
may come hereafter to appear to him true. Perhaps cognitions are as
a general rule more permanent than feelings. But that is all that can
be said. Some feelings are more permanent than some cognitions.
Nothing about us is more permanent than some of our feelings, some
of our cognitions. This distinction, like the previous one, ignores the
essential fact that feeling is not to be discriminated from thought by
contrasting it only with some special form of thought, and especially
not by contrasting it with the higher forms of thought. It is a dis-
tinction which may hold between feeling and scientific demonstration
but it will hold equally between many kinds of thought and such
demonstration. Fancy and imagination are exercises of intellect but
they are as little permanent, invariable, and uniform, they are as essen-
tially variable as any feelings can possibly be. Fleming has even gone
further astray. " Knowledge may admit of increase, but not of vari-
ation. It may alter in amount, but not in nature. What is true now,
remains a truth for ever. What is true to one, is true to all. It is
the fixed and certain nature of knowledge which is the ground of all
progress and improvement. But Feeling is unstable." In writing
thus he obviously forgot that he had nothing to do in the investiga-
tion on which he had entered either with knowledge in itself or with
truth in itself, but merely with the act or exercise of intellect called
kno\ving or cognition. The question is, How does the mental state
termed feeling differ from the mental state termed knowing, how
does emotive experience differ from intellectual action 1 It is not
how does feeling differ from truth, which is a something independent
of the mind, nor how does emotive experience differ from knowledge,
which is the reward of intellectual exertion, and a reward even which
it may fail to attain. Apart, however, from this, the distinction, as I
have indicated, breaks down. It is no distinction between thought as
such and feeling as such.
The next distinction attempted to be drawn is, that " The opera-
tions of the intellect are confirmed, while the exercise of the sensitivity
is weakened, by familiarity and reflection ". It is a distinction still
less tenable, if possible, than the preceding ones. Pass in review the
different principles of action, the appetites, emotions, desires, affections,
Notes and Discussions. 115
and passions, and it will be found that with few exceptions they are
intensified and confirmed by indulgence, and that the exceptions can
be accounted for. Mere passive impressions weaken and deaden the
intellect as well as the sensitivity, and real indulgence intensifies the
sensitivity no less than it strengthens the intellect. Fleming admits
that " the feelings connected with the affections of country, and kin-
dred, and friendship, " are confirmed by being long cherished, but
accounts for it on the ground that " the elements which go to consti-
tute these affections partake more of the intellect than of the sensiti-
vity". The admission is, however, inadequate and the explanation
incorrect. The fact admitted is just as true of the grossest and most
brutal passions as of the honourable and generous affections mentioned.
Does the drunkard's passion for strong drink not grow in intensity
and strength with indulgence 1 And is his infatuated desire one the
elements of which partake more of the intellect than of the sensiti-
vity 1 The mere feeling accompanying its gratification may decrease,
but the desire for gratification increases, and desire is a form of the
sensitivity, just as much as the feeling. This distinction takes no
note of that. The two previous ones erred by taking a species of
of cognition, the highest kind of cognition, for the entire genus,
cognition ; this one errs by taking a species of feeling, the lowest *
stage of feeling, or feeling proper, for the entire genus, feeling.
The fifth alleged distinction is, that " Cognitions are more firmly
retained, and more easily and fully recalled and revived, than feel-
ings ". " An object of sense perceived," says Fleming in illustration,
"a relation discerned, a conclusion come to, can be reproduced and
represented to the mind, and made the means of increasing our
knowledge. Feelings often pass away without leaving any trace
behind them. When they are revived, it is very much in virtue of
their being connected with cognitions. And they are revived in a
form much less vivid than when first experienced." Now, it must
again be remarked, that while we have to contrast feelings with
cognitions we have not to contrast them with objects of sense per-
ceived, relations discerned, or even conclusions come to, but only
with the perceiving, discerning, concluding. But, apart from the
inaccuracy which there is in what Fleming says from overlooking
this, it is obvious that, even if all that he says were true, it would
only be the statement of a difference not of nature but of degree.
That is not, however, what it is presented as being, and it is not what
is required. Thoughts differ from thoughts, feelings from feelings, in
the same way in which thoughts and feelings are here said to diffi r.
Some thoughts are much more firmly retained and more easily and
fully recalled and reviewed than other thoughts, some feelings than
other feelings. What thus distinguishes thoughts from thoughts,
feelings from feelings, cannot distinguish thoughts from feelings. It
is only, in fact, a distinction of nature that can have any relevancy
or worth. The question is not one of more or less but of kind.
Even as expressive of a difference of degree, what is said, if it hold,
holds only in a very loose and general way. If feelings often pass
116 Notes and Discussions.
away without leaving any trace behind them, so do thoughts. Tt is
.our feelings, it may be even contended, which leave most trace behind
them. And certainly there are feelings, I cannot but think, which
exert a far more potent influence in determining what thoughts and
emotions shall be experienced by us, a far more potent influence on
the laws of association, than, perhaps, any cognitions. The influence
of our general dispositions and tempers, and even of our varying
moods of mind, in originating and directing, in shaping and colouring
our trains of thought, is so vast and manifest that all observers of
human nature have had their attention drawn to it. Hence, if it be
true that " when feelings are revived, it is very much in virtue of
their being connected with cognitions," it is equally true that when
cognitions are revived, it is very much in virtue of their being con-
nected with feelings. And there is nothing exceptional in feelings
being " revived in a form much less vivid than wheii m first experienced".
The memory of a thing is never so vivid as the perception of it.
Perception and memory, however, are both cognitive acts.
The sixth distinction laid down is, that " The intellect can enter-
tain opposite ideas at the same time; but the sensibility cannot at
the same time experience contrary feelings. The knowledge of con-
traries is one. He who knows what motion is, knows also what rest
is ; and the contrariety between them does not prevent us from think-
ing of them at the same time, but has the effect of bringing them
into our thoughts together. But we cannot, at the same time, feel
joy and grief, love and hatred ; one feeling displaces another,
feelings succeed one another rather than co-exist." This likewise,
even if true, tells us little or nothing as to the distinction between
thought and feeling. To say that two contrary thoughts may come
together but that two contrary feelings cannot, gives us almost no
information as to wherein the contrariety of any one thought to any
one feeling consists. But there is a more serious objection. It is
only in abstract thought that contraries are known as one. In any
single direct cognition, in perception, for instance, or internal intui-
tion, contraries unite no more than they do in feelings. It is as
impossible to have a perception of contraries at the same time as to
have a sensation of them. There are, then, since perception belongs to
the intellect and sensation to the sensitivity, a cognition and a feeling
which this distinction is utterly incapable of discriminating. It does
not enable us to distinguish every form of feeling from every form of
cognition. There is another objection. If simple feelings are com-
pared to simple cognitions, contraries will, as has just been stated, be
found united in neither ; but if complex feelings are compared with
complex thoughts they may be found in both. It is contrary to the
commonest experience to say that " the sensitivity cannot at the same
time experience contrary feelings". There can be pleasure commingled
with pain. There can be joy in the midst of sorrow. It is what
poets without number since Homer, and philosophers since Plato have
described. Children are both frightened and fascinated when listen-
ing to a ghost-story ; the more ' tear-compelling ' a tragedy or novel
Notes and Discussions. 123
to solve the problem of individuality in general ; and in particular
that of the origin of the Self in time, and the beginning of volition.
But so far as I have said anything, I will endeavour to show that it
is not incoherent, as soon as objections against it are distinctly formu-
lated. I can not do so before. However, 1 may say that -I have no
quarrel with Determinism if only that view will leave off regarding
the Self as a collection, and volitions as ' resultants ' or compositions
of forces, and will either reform or cease to apply its category of cause
and effect. The problem, as Mr. Sidgwick states it, on p. 46 of his
Methods of Ethics, I consider to involve a false alternative.
(2) The fact that when I speak of self-realisation " we naturally
think of the realisation or development into act of each one of the
potentialities constituting the definite formed character of each indi-
vidual " is not surprising, until we have learnt that there are other
views than those which appear in the Met hex Is of Ethics (p. 72 foil.).
And this we very soon do if we proceed. I have written at some
length on the good and bad selves (Essay VII.) ; and on p. 146, 1 have
repudiated distinctly Mr. Sidgwick's understanding of the term. I
thought that I had left no doubt that characters might be pirtly bad,
and that this was not what I meant by self-realisation, as = end.
(3) " We may at least say that a term which equally denotes the
fulfilment of any of my desires by some one else and my own accom-
plishment of my duty, will hardly avail us much in a definition of the
Highest Good." Perhaps. But I emphatically repudiate the doctrine
that the mere bringing about by some one else of anything desired by
me is my self-realisation. If the reviewer wishes the reader and my-
self to believe that I put this forward, he owes us a reference. If it
be meant as a dedttction from my premisses, he owes us an argument.
He has given us neither ; and as I think, nothing but a sheer misun-
derstanding.
(4) Mr. Sidgwick must be aware that I have endeavoured to define
self-realisation, as = end. He proceeds to remark, " the question then
is whether we gain anything by calling the object of our search ' the
true whole which is to realise the true self ' ". I think we do : but
then I have not left the matter here as my reviewer seems to indicate.
That point of view is reached on p. 67, and the whole remainder of
the discussion down to p. 74 is quietly ignored by him. I call parti-
cular attention to this.
The passage on Hedonism which follows I will take hereafter.
(5) I do not know whether in what is said about Kant there is an
objection to my views, nor, if so, what that is ; but when the reviewer
says of me, " he accepts a merely relative universality as a sufficient
criterion of goodness," I must remark that this is what I do not say.
I say relative and absolute, (p. 174) ; and this appears even from my
reviewer's next page.
(6) " Mr. Bradley, I think, has not clearly distinguished this view
from his own ; and the effectiveness of his argument against Individu-
alism depends chiefly on the non-distinction." The view is "the old
doctrine . . . that the individual man is essentially a social
124 Notes and Discussions.
being ". But (a) if my view is partly the same as another, what is
that against it? (b) If Mr. Sidgwick will point out confusion, I will
admit it or answer it. I cannot do either until he does, (c) At any
rate, "that the individual man is essentially a social being" ? my view,
and is not my reviewer's. If it be " a vague and barren ethical com-
monplace," yet in his book he must be taken to deny it, for he finds
the end, and, I suppose, the essence of man by examining a supposed
" single sentient conscious being" (p. 374).
(7) " He allows . . . even that * open and direct outrage on the
standing moral institutions which make society and human life
what it is,' may be 'justified on the plea of overpowering moral neces-
sity'." Here I must earnestly beg the reader to consult the context in
my book (pp. 204-5). I cannot ask for space to quote it. The ques-
tion I was discussing was the extent to which in theory we must hold
that collisions may proceed (c/. p. 142). On p. 143 I distinctly denied
that ' moral theory' is ' meant to influence practice' (c/. p. 205 foot-note^.
And I do think this ought not to have been ignored.
(8) My reviewer continues " But here he plainly comes into
conflict with ; unsophisticated common sense * : and surely, if that
authority be thus found fcdstis in uno, it must be at least fallibilis In
omnibus : and thus we have still to seek for some criterion of the
validity of its dictates ". First, I must ask for a reference for
' unsophisticated common sense '. It is given as a quotation from
me, but I do not recognise it. Next, I have maintained that I do
not really come into collision with common morality, but, when
understood, am at one with it (p. 204, cf. 142-3). And my reasoned
exposition, ignored by the reviewer, may stand I hope against his
" plainly ". Thirdly, he argues, What is falsus in uno is falUWt*
in omnibus. The falseness in this one thing I deny. Next, if I
admitted it, I should like to see the steps by which the conclusion
follows. Next, I have never hinted that the moral consciousness is
not fallible in particulars. Mr. Sidgwick really should give references
for what he attributes to me. Next, I deny that it is fallible in all
points. Lastly, even if it were false throughout, I say we have not " to
seek for some criterion of the validity of its dictates " ; for none is
possible.
This is all I think it necessary to say in answer to that which my
reviewer has urged against the doctrine I have put forward. The
rest which I have not noticed, I must not be taken to admit. And
now, seeing that a large part of my book was directed against
Hedonism in general, and one or two pages even against Mr. Sidgwick
in particular, I naturally hoped for some discussion of the matter.
This is all I can find. " The notion of Maximum Pleasure is certainly
sufficient for systematising conduct, as it gives us a universally appli-
ca'^le standard for selecting and regulating our activities. But it does
not give us an end which can ever be realised as a whole, in Mr.
Bradley's sense, that is, all at once : for obviously there is and can be
no moment at which a ' greatest possible sum of pleasures ' can be
enjoyed."
Notes and Discussions. 125
First, as was said above, the reviewer ignores my interpretation of
self-realisation. Next, he suggests that my argument against Hedon-
ism is that pleasures cannot be enjoyed all at once. True, that is an
argument; but is it possible that Mr. Sidgvvick can really believe
that in other respects Maximum Pleasure answers to my conception
of the end ? This is so wholly at variance with the doctrine I hold
that I confess I was not prepared for it. Thirdly, that the notion of
Maximum Pleasure can systematise conduct and give a standard, is a
proposition I have formally contested. Mr. Sidgwick not only gives
me an assertion for an answer, but by the way he introduces the
assertion suggests to the reader that I believe it myself.
I can find no other defence of his opinions but the (unsupported)
charge against me that I use rhetoric for argument, and that my
apprehension of the views which I assail " is always rather super-
ficial and sometimes even unintelligent ". Those views I think
should be securely founded, if they are to bear being defended in
this way.
F. H. BRADLEY.
[Mr. Bradley seems to be under a strange impression that, while
professing to write a critical notice of his views on ethics, I have been
or ought to have been defending my own. I entertain quite a different
notion of a reviewer's " station and duties". In criticising his book (or
any other) I put out of sight my own doctrines, in so far as I am
conscious of them as peculiar to myself : and pass my judgments from a
point of view which I expect iny readers generally to share with me.
Hence the references in his reply to my opinions would be quite
irrelevant, even if he understood those opinions somewhat better than
he does. I passed lightly over his attack on Hedonism in Essay III. for
the simple reason which I gave that I thought it less interesting and
important than other parts of his work. Much of it, as he must be
perfectly aware, either has no bearing on Hedonism as I conceive it,
or emphasises defects which I have myself pointed out : the rest consists
chiefly of familiar anti-hedonistic commonplaces : the freshest argu-
ment I could find was one with whicli I had made acquaintance
some years ago in Mr. Green's Introduction to Hume. This, as stated
by Mr. Green, I have taken occasion to answer in the course of an
article in the present number of this journal. The attack on my book
appended to Essay III., though not uninstructive to myself, is far too full
of misunderstandings to be profitable for discussion. It is criticism of
the kind that invites explanation rather than defence : such explanation
I proposed to give in its proper place which was certainly not my
notice of Mr. Bradley.
On the special points which he raises, the very briefest reply will
suffice.
(1) (2) (3) He scarcely attempts to answer my charge of 'want of
clear coherence' in his exposition of 'Self. He does not deny that
the ' self ' presented in Essay I. is dropped without explanation when
we pass to 'Essay II., and other accounts are given of the same] notion.
Among them is the statement that "all we can desire is self"; from
which I drew the immediate inference that the fulfilment of any desire
is a kind of self-realisation : if he did riot intend this inference, pp. 61, 62
are confusing and somewhat irrelevant.
(4) The discussion on 'finite' and 'infinite* (pp 68-73) is a part of
the metaphysics of which, in general terms, I notified my omission. I
126 Notes and Dismissions.
thought, and think still, that it was comparatively unimportant to the
ethical discussion. A critical notice does not profess to be a table of
contents.
(5) He misunderstands iny 'relative universality'. I say that the
social organism, of which the individual in Essay V. is explained to be
essentially a part, is a relative and not an absolute whole. That is, it is
not the universe : and we have no reason to identify its will granting
this to be real and cognisable with the universal or Divine Will to
which our wills should conform.
(6) I did not absurdly complain that he combined in his positive
doctrine the common view of society as a natural organism with his
peculiar view of this organism as possessing a reasonable will : I
criticised him for not distinguishing them in his polemic against
Individualism. The result of the non-distinction is that much of this
polemical argument as far as I can trace it through its folds of
rhetoric is directed against an individualism which will find no
defenders : the individualism, namely, to which the ' Social Compact,'
belongs, and to which Utilitarianism long since gave the coup de grace.
(7) (8) I still maintain that the non-theoretical unreflective person
who is exalted in Essay V. as furnishing the moral standard will be
considerably startled to find his encomiast justifying, with whatever
qualifications, " open and direct outrage on the standing moral institu-
tions which make society and human life what it is ". He will regard
Mr. Bradley as almost a "thinker," and at least "on the threshold of
immorality". And I doubt whether he will be quite consoled by
learning that this justification is not " meant to influence practice " :
though I admit that the consolation is well adapted to the average
philosophical capacity of the non-theoretical person.
But I need not press this point : because Mr. Bradley, as I under-
stand, admits the possibility of a conflict between common sense and
his private moral consciousness; and is prepared, in case of such
conflict, to rely entirely on his own particular moral intuition, allowing
no appeal to any express principle or external standard. If this be so,
his apparent reference to an external standard in Essay V, is found (as I
said) to be devoid of precise meaning or scientific value.
To sum up, then, I have nothing to retract or qualify on any of the
points raised by Mr Bradley except a pair of inverted commas which
were accidentally attached to a phrase of my own. But I should
prefer to part from him in a friendly manner ; and therefore I am glad
to find something to concede to him in the phrase in which I
characterised his style as over-rhetorical. I still dislike the quality of
his rhetoric, whether it be satirical, pathetic or declamatory : and I
think it is sometimes introduced, at important points, so as to interfere
with the closeness of his reasoning. But I find that the sentence in
which I combined these two judgments was too strongly worded : and
am glad to substitute for it the milder phrases just given.
HENKY SIDGWICK.]
Mr. Hodgson on 'Cogito ergo sum'. Assuming that Descartes' first
principle really means what Mr. Hodgson (MiNDlV.) says it does that
my being and my consciousness are one, that my being is my con-
sciousness and my consciousness my being what are we to make of
a sentence like the following ? " If the true sense of ' Cogito ergo
sum' is what I contend, My existence means my consciousness, we can
go on to generalise this in application to other things : their existence
Notes and Discussions. 127
means the consciousness which I or others have of them ; esse means
percipi." Is there not something very far wrong here ] When I say,
1 exist, I mean, I am conscious ; but Mr. Hodgson declares that this
statement generalised runs so The existence of other things means,
not their consciousness, but my consciousness of them. Now, it ap-
pears to me that this is a generalisation in which the essential element of
the particular has been left out of the general, that there is, in fact,
absolutely nothing in common between the particular proposition
started with and the generalised result. If the fundamental truth of
philosophy were, My existence arises in my consciousness, existence
and consciousness might be regarded as possibly different ; in any case,
the nature of existence would be an open question. But if the ulti-
mate fact is, My existence arises as my consciousness, then existence
and consciousness are indissolubly one, and conceivable only as differ-
ent names for the same thing. When, therefore, I generalise the con-
ception of my existence, and apply it to that of other things, the gene-
ralisation ought to be The existence of other things means their con-
sciousness. This seems so obviously the only fair logical extension of
Descartes' deliverance as interpreted by Mr. Hodgson, that I am half
disposed to believe that I am somehow misunderstanding the very
plain-looking words of the sentence just quoted. If all that I know
of existence at first hand that is, in my own case is, that it is always
a mode of consciousness, then, when I extend this unvarying expe-
rience to other existences, real or conceived, is it lawful for me to
strike out of the idea of existence as thus extended its inseparable
other-half, consciousness 1 Surely this would be no extension of my
own individual experience at all no generalisation in any proper
sense of the word. In my own case, existence and consciousness stand
or fall together ; but the existence of Peter and James and John, and
stocks and stones, is secure enough, it appears, if somebody else is con-
scious of them. The logic here looks alarming, but Mr. Hodgson is
responsible for it, if I have not grossly misunderstood his language.
The existence of other things being supposed, it seems clear that,
if we are entitled to extend to them that conception which is given in
every one of our own conscious acts, we must attribute to all conceived
existences some form of consciousness a generalised form, of course,
but still a consciousness. Otherwise, there will have been no true
logical extension of Descartes' primary conception. If esse means
percipere in the particular, it cannot be transformed into percipi in the
general. It is absurd to represent the passive voice as a generalised
form of the active.
Mr. Hodgson remarks that Descartes' deliverance " does not tell us
what existence in general is ; that would disqualify it at once for a
beginning of philosophy it speaks only of a particular case, the case
of ourself ". But existence in general must be the same in kind as
existence in particular, else generalisation would signify metamorphosis ;
and if consciousness is the very essence of existence in each particular
case, it must be conceived as present in all cases. And there is the
more need for extreme watchfulness as to the use made of this root-
128 Notes and Discussions.
proposition, because maiiy things just now seem pointing to the con-
clusion, that on Descartes' ' Cogito ergo sum,' rightly understood, the
philosophy of the future can find its only firm footing ; that his first
principle, boldly carried to its farthest logical issues, can be shown to
possess that necessity and universality without which no system of
thought can be other than an unenduring cloud-world of more or less
consistency. If consciousness were clearly seen to be co-extensive
with existence (actual and conceivable), that hitherto fruitless and
painful search for the Ding-an-sich would cease for the " thing in
itself " would then have been found ; the Kantian dualism, with all its
perplexing inconsistencies, would fall to pieces ; and the incorrigible
Hegelian even would acknowledge that all the unquestionable truth
in his master's system had been embraced in the one dictum, Exist-
ence is Consciousness. Whether or not Descartes himself saw to the
end of the road along which his principle points, this is not the place
to inquire ; the intention here is simply to note the fact that Mr.
Hodgson, at all events, would appear to have missed the path alto-
gether.
As against Mr. Arnold's reading of the famous * Cogito ergo sum,'
the passage quoted by Mr. Hodgson seems decisive, though it is more
than questionable whether it will appear so to the author of God and
the Bible. Mr. Arnold's own contributions to philosophy having
hitherto, most of them, taken the form of contemptuous remarks
upon philosophers, expressed in the choicest of English, and with all
the graces which culture can bestow, he is not likely to be greatly
moved by this note or that of Mr. Hodgson. But all those who make
philosophy a serious study will be disposed to admit that the signifi-
cance of the Cartesian First Principle is, even in these advanced times,
worthy of the strongest possible emphasis.
ALEXANDER MAIN.
[Mr. Main's note is opportuneness itself. I was quite aware that
many might require to have the grounds of my generalisation of the
' cogito ' fully drawn out before accepting it, but I was withheld from
saying more by the fear of travelling out of the record. Now, however,
Mr. Main comes to my aid, and that by so clear and forcible a state-
ment of the opposite alternative as to save me from all need of restating
it, as I must have done if I had explained the whole case myself.
Assuming, then, that my existence means my consciousness expresses the
true sense of the ' cogito,' I argue that Mr, Main's generalisation of
that statement, viz., that the existence of other things means their con-
sciousness, and that esse means percipere, is inconsistent with its true
sense. In my existence means my consciousness, my consciousness may
primd facie be taken to signify one of three things, either (1) myself
being conscious, or having my states of consciousness; or (2) my states
of consciousness as coming from existing things; or (3) my states of
consciousness alone. (The word my, in all three cases, is merely a word
of designation, to make it clear to the reader that I am not passing
beyond the limits of the subject, my consciousness). Now the two first
of these meanings are excluded from being the true meaning, because
each of them assumes existence as known, the existence of myself in the
first case, of things in the second, and thus nullifies the statement my
existence means my consciousness, and disqualifies it as an explanation of
Notes and Discussions. 129
my existence. It is no explanation of my existence to say that it means
myself having consciousness, for that assumes that I already know myself
as having something, that is, as existing.
It is this meaning of my consciousness which is involved in Mr. Main's
generalisation. It would make Descartes' l cogito' say, / exist because
I exist thinking ; it would simply unsay the ' cogito' '. The only admissible
sense of the ' cogito ' is the one in which my consciousness means my
states of consciousness alone, states which become objects to me in the
' cogito ' moment, which is the moment of self-consciousness or reflec-
tion. They and they alone, in the first instance, are the explanation of
my existence ; my esse is not my percipere but my percipi.
Adopting this, the sole admissible, meaning of my existence means my
consciousness, I then generalise it by dropping the particular circum-
stance that it is mine. The esse of anything means that it is an object in
some consciousness, its own or other. As Mr. Main truly remarks,
" existence in general must be the same in kind as existence in
particular".
I cordially concur also in the necessity for extreme watchfulness in
the use made of this " root-proposition " ; and also in the belief that it
offers the only firm footing for philosophy. But I cannot agree that
Mr. Main's generalisation of it necessarily precludes a Ding-an-sich.
On the contrary, the interpretation on which it rests apparently
introduces a Ding-an-sich as Subject ; for by that interpretation a
percipient Subject is assumed without the explanation of a predicate.
But by my interpretation a predicate is given to the supposed Subject.
Some other consequences too of Mr. Main's interpretation, if the
* cogito ' is also made the basis of philosophy, are familiar to us. It is
the conception which is at the root not of Fichte, Schelling and Hegel
only, but of all the forms which are or may be included in the now
fashionable philosophy of Monism, the latest importation from chimera-
land. The last outcome of philosophy would be evidently necessary
from the very first step in it, on Mr. Main's interpretation of Descartes.
If to be endowed with consciousness is a condition of existing, it follows
at once that whatever exists is, or has been endowed with consciousness,
for instance, the Universe. Philosophy is not so royal a road as this
syllogism would imply.
Another side of the question remains to be considered. No genera-
lisation of the ' cogito ' can be true which contradicts or unsays the
' cogito '. The true sense of the ' cogito ', when once established, is a
test to which we must bring any proposed generalisation. The con-
sequence in the ' cogito,' its ergo, may primd facie be taken as one of
three different kinds, namely, as introducing and assigning either (1)
the condition of existence of my existence ; as, my existence results from
my consciousness; or (2) the condition of my knowing that I exist; as,
the fact that I exist is shown by my being conscious; or (3) the condi-
tion of my knowing what my existence is ; as, my existence means my
consciousness. There are three possible alternatives, because there are
three ultimate sorts of conditions, existendi, cognoscendi, and essendi.
The last of the three alternatives has been shown to be the true one.
I argue, therefore, that any proposed generalisation of the ' cogito'
which either assigned a condition of existence for existence at large, or
assigned a condition of knowing the fact of existence at large, would
not be true as a generalisation of the ' cogito '.
But Mr. Main, in his first sentence, puts my intrepretation of the
'cogito' thus: "that my being and my consciousness are one, that my
being is my consciousness and my consciousness my being". The word
9
130 New Books.
ts, when standing as copula, gives no indication which kind of condition
is intended by the proposition. And therefore I was careful to interpret
the is in the ' cogito' by the word means, having shown the ' coyito* to
express only what existence was, and not how it arose nor how it was
inferred. Mr. Main, in recurring to the unanalysed use of is, really
unsays Descartes' proposition.
SHAD WORTH H. HODGSON.]
XII NEW BOOKS.
History of English Thought in the Eighteenth Century. By LESLIE
STEPHEN. 2 vols. London : Smith, Elder & Co. Pp. 466, 469.
This very important work will be reviewed at length in a future
number. It is first of all, as the preface tells, a history of the
Deistical movement ; but for this it " seemed necessary to describe
the general theological tendencies of the time, and, in order to set
forth intelligibly the ideas which shaped those tendencies, it seemed
desirable, again, to trace their origin in the philosophy of the time
and to show their application in other departments of speculation ".
The author therefore begins with an account of the contemporary
Philosophy, and seeks besides " to indicate the application of the
principles accepted in philosophy and theology to moral and political
questions, and their reflection on the imaginative literature of the
time " ; though in dealing with political theories he tries to keep as
far as possible from the province of political or social history.
A Treatise on the Moral Ideals. By the late JOHN GROTE, B.D.
Edited by Joseph Bickersteth Mayor, M.A. Cambridge :
Deighton, BeU and Co. 1876. Pp. 519.
Professor Mayor, continuing his work as editor, here prints the
constructive treatise on Ethics which the late John Grote turned to
write on resigning his original intention of publishing a controversial
answer to Mill's Utilitarianism. The controversial treatise, which
had been partly printed when laid aside, after all saw the light first,
being published six years ago by Prof. Mayor, in the exercise of his
editorial discretion, under the title of An Examination of the Utili-
tarian Philosophy. The present work will be reviewed in the next
number of MIND, and all reference to its contents may therefore be
deferred. As in the case of the former work, the editor's duties
have been very onerous. He now proceeds to prepare for the press
the second part of the Exploratio Philosophica, of which Part I.
appeared in 1865, the year before Professor Grote died.
A Philological Introduction to Greek and Latin, translated from the
German of FERDINAND BAUR by C. Kegan Paul and E. D. Stone.
London : King & Co. 1876. Pp. 153.
This little work, however technical, calls for notice in MIND by
reason of the remarkably clear psychological conceptions underlying
New Books. 131
the author's treatment of his special subject. The exposition falls
into three parts, from the division of Philology or the science of
Language (as the phonetic representation of Thought) into Glottology,
dealing with Vowels and Consonants as the matter of language (1),
and Grammar or the science of linguistic form in the two phases of
(2) Root and Stem formation, and (3) Word formation or Inflexion.
How the Root arises originally as the expression of a general idea
and passes into the fully developed Word through the Stem, is very
accurately conceived in point of psychology, and the philosophical
student may follow even the technical details of the book for illus-
tration of the principles which he will find (for his purposes) only
too briefly expounded.
An Introduction to the Principles of Morals and Legislation. By
JEREMY BEXTHAM. Oxford : at the Clarendon Press. 1876.
Pp. 336.
A timely and handy reprint, for the use of students, of this classi-
cal work (first published in 1789), according to the 'New Edition,
corrected by the Author,' which appeared in 1823.
Behind the Veil. An outline of Bible Metaphysics compared witJt
ancient and modern thought. By THOMAS GRIFFITH, A.M.,
Prebendary of St. Paul's. London : Longmans, Green and Co.
1876. Pp. 230.
The work is divided into four parts : I. Invisible Realities. II.
The Realities in Mature. III. The Reality in Man. IV. The Su-
preme Reality. The present age demands facts. But we cannot rest
there. Facts are phenomena in the human mind. But phenomena
suggest the questions Phenomenal of what 1 Phenomenal to what 1
Hence the faiths of mankind, the reaching beyond the known. Three
Realities must in short, be believed, although not beheld a Reality
beneath nature, a Reality at the base of all mental phenomena, and
a Reality underlying the universe or nature and mental phenomena.
With regard to the first all philosophy testifies that things are not
what they seem. Nature is summed up as matter and. force, and as
matter is only known to us as force, our system of the universe is an
orderly arrangement of forces ; for which we are entitled to read
" Realities which put forth force," even as the energy exerted by our-
selves wells up from an unfathomable depth below. For secondly,
Man is not all that he seems. There is an unrevealed " inward " man
or true self, the recognition of which is not only spontaneous with the
common mind, but emerges through the contradictions of thinkers
who would deny it. The Ego cannot be eliminated from our psy-
chological statements, as at once a Recipient of impressions, a Per-
cipient of thoughts, an Incipient of actions distinct from impres
sions, thoughts, and actions, Lastly, the hidden realities in nature
and in man are obviously not unconditioned realities. They are inter-
dependent and limited. They, too, must have a ground, an Un-
conditioned Reality of realities. The Being, Character, and Proce-
132 New Books.
dure of God are the titles of the closing chapters, occupying a large
portion of the volume. The work is enriched with references, indicat-
ing a catholic range of reading.
Studies in Ancient History, comprising a Reprint of ' Primitive
Matriage'. By JOHN FERGUSON M'LENXAN, M.A., LL.D. Lon-
don : B. Quaritch, 1876.
Mr. M'Lennan here reprints his well-known and much sought-for
essay on Primitive Marriage (1865) in its original form, rather than
keep it longer out of print for the revision he has hitherto been
unable to make and could now not make in a short time. By
appending, however, some essays on related subjects, his publication
now assumes the wider scope indicated by the new title. The first
of the appended essays, ' Kinship in Ancient Greece,' is itself u
reprint, being the author's reply in 1866 to a challenge from Mr.
Gladstone to show proof that kinship through mothers ever existed
among the Greeks. The new essays are four in number: (1) 'The
Classificatory System of Relationship,' against Mr. Morgan; (2)
' Bachofen's Das Mutterrecht'- a work that anticipated by four
years the author's discovery of the fact of female kinship, though on
very different grounds from his ; (3) ' Communal Marriage ' against
Sir J. Lubbock ; (4) ' Divisions of the Ancient Irish Family ' against
Sir H. Maine.
Winds of Doctrine : being an Examination of the modern theories of
Automatism and Evolution. By CHARLES ELAM, M.D. London :
Smith, Elder & Co. 1876. Pp. 163.
Dr. Elam here "reprints some essays on Automatism and Evolution
which have recently appeared in a serial form. They were written for
the most part in 1874 after the meeting of the British Association at
Belfast, where Professors Tyndall and Huxley held forth in the way
known to all men. The somewhat ' question-begging ' title now pre-
fixed to the essays indicates their drift : the doctrine of Automatism
depends on the doctrine of Evolution, and the doctrine of Evolution
is a sheer figment of the intellect, unsupported by the least direct
evidence and in its outcome flatly contradicting all the deepest con-
victions, intellectual, moral and religious, of human nature. Like
wind, it will pass.
PhUosophische Consequenzen der Lamarck-Darwimchen Entmcldungs-
fheorie. Ein Yersuch von Dr. GEORG VON GIZYCKI. Leipzig u.
Heidelberg : C. F. Winter. 1876. Pp. 97.
The author (who professes himself to be a disciple of Zeller in
philosophy) takes exactly the opposite view of Evolution from Dr.
Elam, and holds that the doctrine is not only verified as much as a
doctrine of such comprehensive scope can be, but has full possession
of the scientific field : " this or nothing ". At the same time he is
no less concerned than Dr. Elam for philosophic truth and for the
New Books. 133
practical interests of morality and religion, and his little book is
written to show that the theory of Evolution, when truly conceived,
does not turn, as commonly supposed, in majorem materialism* et
atheismi gloriam. The philosophical consequences of the theory are
drawn out under the four heads of Psychology, Epistemology, Morals,
Eeligion.
Die Philosophic Shaftesbury's, dargestellt von Dr. GEORG VON GI^YCKI.
Leipzig 11. Heidelberg : C. F. Winter. 1876. Pp. 200.
The author is of opinion that no extant ethical doctrine comes so
near as Shaftesbury's to meeting the requirement now imposed upon
philosophy, namely, that it conform to the spirit of positive scientific
inquiry. He is therefore concerned to set it forth at the present time,
more especially in opposition to the " contranatural " ethical system
of Kant. Shaftesbury's works were translated into German in the
course of the 18th century, and made no small impression on Herder
and others ; but, according to the author, their philosophical import-
ance has never been sufficiently recognised, while by Schlosser their
true character was grossly traduced. Xeither in his own country has
Shaftesbury received justice, his " idealistic " philosophy appearing
like an exotic plant upon English soil. The author is wholly at one
with Shaftesbury in conceiving ethics as having for its subject Virtue,
not Duty, and he holds that an ethical doctrine should in particular
include (1) a theory of the springs of human action, (2) a theory of
virtue or moral excellence, and (3) a theory of moral progression and
decline. Shaftesbury's doctrine lends itself naturally to exposition
under* these three heads, and the work ends with a chapter on his
religious philosophy.
Kant's Analogies der Erf alining. Von ERNST LAAS. Berlin, Weid-
mannsche Buchhandlung, 1876. Pp. 363.
The Analogies of Experience seem to the author the central point of
Kant's philosophy in its theoretical aspect, and a concentrated exami-
nation of them is believed by him to throw more light on the Critical
Philosophy generally than can be had by following all the turns of
thought and scholastic argumentation with which Kant perplexes his
reader. The Analogies of Experience seek to prove that previously to
experience we are able to affirm of all experience, that it must contain
a permanent element as Substance, and be subject to the laws of
Casuality and Reciprocity ; and of these points there can be no suffi-
cient exposition without drawing in all the most characteristic philo-
sophical ideas of Kant. Among later thinkers, J. S. Mill and Scho-
penhauer chiefly engage the author's attention. With Mill he has
much in common, but he justly blames him for contending with think-
ers like Whewell or Hamilton, instead of meeting Kant at first hand.
Die Philosophic seit Kant. Von Dr. FRIEDRICH HARMS. Berlin,
1867. Pp. 603.
In the development of recent German philosophy the author notes
134 New Books.
four distinct stages. The labours of Lessing, Herder, and Jacobi
mark the beginnings of what is most characteristic of the philo-
sophy of Germany, the setting-up a historical view of the world
by the side of the physical. The second division contains the
foundation of German philosophy by Kant. The positive result
of Kant's endeavours was the establishment of an ethical theory
of the world. The Critic of Practical Reason and the Critic of
Judgment contain the ripest fruits of the Kantian thinking.
Thirdly comes the great systematisation of German thought by
Fichte, Schelling, and Hegel. Fichte sees the determining principle
in Moral Purpose, Schelling in the Nature of Things, Hegel in Logical
Thought. The systems of these thinkers were the necessary historical
development of the doctrines of Kant. In the fourth place, we have
the limitation of philosophy, determined by Schleiermacher, Herbart,
and Schopenhauer. Of these, Schleiermacher stands as the represen-
tative of careful and sober criticism of the philosophy of the Absolute.
In conclusion, the author devotes a few pages to the consideration of
German philosophy in its most recent phases. The author sees at the
present time two divergent tendencies as logical extremes of pre-
vious doctrines and systems. The one is represented by the journal
founded by the younger Fichte, by Trendelenburg, and by Lotze. Here
the stand-point is theistic, an Absolute being recognised as the last
ground of Being and Becoming, of Action as well as of Thought. The
other tendency may be styled Anthropologism, Man being taken as at
once principle and end of Nature. This latter tendency is to be found in
germ in Kant's Critic of Pure Reason, and more developed in Hegel's
Natural Philosophy and in his conception of the essence of Eeligion.
The claim of Anthropologism to be the whole of Philosophy is
not however found previously to Feuerbach, the Materialists, and
Schopenhauer. Whether this claim be justifiable or not is the philoso-
phical question of the present.
Das Gesetz der Causal-licit in der Natur. Von EGBERT SCHELLWIEN.
Berlin, 1876. Pp. 271.
The author compares the Kantian Metaphysic with the ground-
principles of modern science. The former assumed a real unknowable
world, furnishing the matter of our sense-consciousness ; the latter
posits a world of atoms whose movements are the anterior causes of all
nervous changes. Assumptions in both cases are the ground of certain
subjective phenomena. But Kant's Thing-in-itself implied a contra-
diction as being a known unknowable. Modern science is even
more irrational, as its unknowable is clothed with the attributes
of indivisibility, impenetrability, and activity. What way out of
these contradictions 1 None but the identification of the Pheno-
menon with the Thing-in-itself. The real world is the known world,
and Consciousness and Existence are one. This is not to de-
grade the world into a merely subjective presentation. Things are in
themselves as they appear to us, but all does not appear. It is the
task of the higher functions of consciousness to fill up what is wanting
New Books. 135
in sensible perception, a method which is only scientifically justified on
the principle of continuity, what is underivable from sense or not to be
referred thereto being devoid of authority. The sensible objective
world or Mature consists of distinct things having a multiplicity of re-
lations presented in space. The way in which one thing is related to
other things determines either its position of equilibrium, or its passage
into another stats of equilibrium. This relation of thing to thing is
natural causality. The element of time disregarded, it is asserted that
the fact of the difference of things is the first member in their causal con-
nection and the presupposition of all their possible relations. The
Law of Causality runs as follows : Natural Causality consists in such
a relation between things that their difference is abolished, and they
become related to each other as same or identical. The author illus-
trates and developes this thesis at considerable length. Coining finally
to a special treatment of consciousness, he says, Nature and Mind are
not different things, but different functions. The function of conscious-
ness, like every natural function, is movement in which difference is
expressed in the form of identity, but the form of identity of conscious-
ness is higher than any natural one, because it is not relation of thing
to thing, but absolute relation of the conscious essence to itself, and
therefore has no longer difference or distinction as something foreign
outside itself, but as its own in itself.
Bernardi Silvestris De Mundi Universitate Libri Duo, sive Megacosmus
et Microcosmus. Nach handschriftlicher Ueberlieferung zum
ersten Male herausgegeben von C. S. BARACH und J. WROBEL.
Innsbruck, 1876. Pp. xxi. 71.
This is the first of a series of reproductions of philosophical works
of the Middle Ages, hitherto unprinted or become rare, which will ap-
pear from time to time under the supervision of Prof. Barach of Inns-
bruck, entitled Bibliotheca Philosophorum Medice Acted is, and de-
signed to fill the gaps in our present knowledge of the literature of the
time. " Bernard Silvester, generally known from the place where he
taught as Bernard of Chartres, belongs to the most eminently cul-
tured and influential personalities of the 12th century." The judg-
ment of Prantl seems to the editor fully justified that the stand-point
of Bernard was extreme Eealism, a Realism which confronted the
then rising Nominalism with the assertion of the singularity of indi-
viduals in the intelligible world. Bernard was at once poet and philo-
sopher. De Mundi Universitate is written partly in prose, partly in
verse. The philosophical ideas are conveyed under a mythical repre-
sentation of the creation of the world and man.
SEBASTIANO TURBIGLIO : Benedetto Spinoza e le Transformazione
del suo Pensiero. Roma, 1875.
This work, although of marked ability, is one of the strangest which
has ever been written on the philosophy of Spinoza. It passes com-
pletely over what, from the title, we naturally look for, and describes
to us instead a discovery which, if true, is certainly very remarkable.
136 New Book*.
It says nothing about the various phases through which the system of
Spinoza passed in its author's rnind during the fifteen or twenty years
which elapsed between the first written sketch the Korte Verhan-
deling van God, de Mensch, &c. and the final form of the Ethica, but
is exclusively occupied with tracing the transformations of thought in
the Ethica itself. Its general finding is that there are in that work
two Spinozas, one who proceeds by syllogisms, and another who pro-
ceeds by intuitions, an apparent or phenomenal Spinoza who has
hitherto been mistaken for the real Spinoza, and a true or noumenal
Spinoza, who was an unconscious Leibniz, and a powerful defender of
the spirituality and immortality of the soul. How has a critic of the
industry and intellectual vigour and sublety of Signor Turbiglio arrived,
after five years of special study of his author, at this extraordinary re-
sult 1 By arbitrarily, although most ingeniously, rearranging the
thoughts of Spinoza, and giving the words in which Spinoza expressed
them a new meaning in their new connection. Although we cannot
but think his work a failure on the whole, we cordially admit that it
abounds in most suggestive combinations, and contains much excellent
criticism.
GIUSEPPE DESCOURS Di TOURXOY. Del Vero, del Bello, e del Bene.
Volume Primo. Milano, 1876.
This volume treats merely of the True, but comprehends an intro-
duction, in which the genesis, method, and utility of philosophy are
discussed, an Ideology or doctrine of the formation of notions, a Logic
or doctrine of the combination of notions, a Metaphysics or doctrine of
the objective conditions of truth, and an Appendix on the principles of
Psychology. It is designed for general readers fully as much as for
special students of philosophy. Prof. Di Tournoy has, perhaps, at-
tempted to do more than was possible in the space he has allowed him-
self, especially as he has not always strictly economised it, but he is a
clear writer and independent thinker. He belongs to no ' school '.
GIACINTO FONTAXA : Idea per una Filosofia della Storia. Firenze,
1876.
The author of this work must not be confounded with Bartolorneo
Fontana, whose Filosofia della Storia nei pensatori italiani is written
from a very different point of view. He has been of late a diligent
contributor to the Filosofia delle scuole italiane, and his book is through-
out an application of the spirit and principles of the philosophy which
is represented by that journal to the explanation of history. He starts
with 'the idea,' the Absolute Being, and endeavours to show in
what manner and measure the idea, as the highest object of thought
and the ultimate end of action, has been apprehended by, and realised
in, humanity. The course of its apprehension, the development of
what he calls the contemplative principle, must be traced, he thinks,
in the history of religion and science, while the course of its realisa-
tion, the development of the active principle, must be traced in the
history of art, industry, and commerce. Such is the central idea of a
News. 137
book which fortunately contains many other ideas of a less doubtful
character, which displays a wide range of learning, which shows its
author to be a man of considerable speculative capacity, and which is
written in an interesting, although a somewhat too rhetorical, style.
The distribution of contents made in it is : (1) Introduction; (2) The
ideal in history; (3) The two principles the contemplative and active;
(4) Development of the two principles ; (5) Religions and Legislations ;
(6) Humanity ; (7) Nations ; (8) Civilisation ; (9) Conformity of his-
tory to the speculative plan ; (10) The progress of liberty ; (11) Reli-
gious and civil liberty ; (12) Conclusion.
XIIL NEWS.
Mr. Philip Magnus, B. Sc., writes as follows :
In the last number of MIND, attention is drawn to the fact, that
according to the new Regulations issued by the Senate of the University
of London for degrees in Science, Psychology and Logic are no longer
compulsory subjects. To many who have been looking forward to the
appearance of these Regulations, the intelligence that Logic as well as
Psychology have been made optional subjects will be a matter of regret.
To me, personally, it was a disappointment; for, at a meeting of the
Committee of the Senate, which I had the honour to be asked to attend,
I urged, as strongly as I could, and I had hoped with some success, the
advisableness of retaining Logic among the indispensable requirements
from all candidates for the B. Sc. degree.
Considering the importance of accurate thinking in all scientific
pursuits, and the assistance that is obtained both in acquiring knowledge
and in expressing it from an acquaintance with the principles of Logic,
it is greatly to be regretted that this subject should not even have been
included in the former or preliminary examination, which is, I imagine,
intended to test the general scientific discipline of the student. The
same importance can hardly be said to attach to Psychology, which till
now formed one of the subjects of examination. But seeing that Logic,
as developed by Herschell, Whewell, Mill, and Jevons, may now, per-
haps, with more propriety than ever be styled Scientia Scientiarum, it
appears somewhat anomalous that a degree in Science can be gained by
uif-n who may be wholly ignorant of the fundamental principles of this
subject.
I do not wish to enter into detail with respect to the advantages
which the student of Science gains from an elementary knowledge of
Logic. But to the science-teacher the intellectual discipline which this
study affords is of the greatest value. Even granting that facts may be
accurately observed and registered, and inductions carefully drawn from
them, by men who have never heard of an experiment am crucis or the
Method of Concomitant Variations, I doubt very much whether any one
who knows nothing of the laws of thought, or the principles of classifi-
cation, can ever be made a good scientific teacher. Now, one of the
chief uses of our B. Sc. degree is to give teachers a qualifying certificate.
With this object it is principally sought after; and it commands no
mean value. But I cannot help thinking that the London Science
Degree will, for the future, be deprived of one of its chief merits ; and
that the certificate will be less likely than heretofore to indicate the fact
that the holder of it has undergone some kind of training which may
qualify him to become the teacher of others.
138 News.
With the general character of the new Regulations I am not now con-
cerned : but there can be little doubt that they are a great improvement
on the former scheme. Looking over the list of subjects a knowledge of
which will now be required from candidates for the Science Degree, it
is, I admit, now difficult to say what subject should be displaced to
make room for Logic ; but I am inclined to think that it might have
been better to have given three hours only to Experimental thysics, or
to have omitted Mixed Mathematics from the preliminary examination,
than to have excluded Logic altogether from the curriculum.
According to the new Regulations, candidates who choose Logic
and Psychology as one of the three special subjects at the 2nd B. Sc.
examination, will have three papers set to them instead of the two
formerly set for B.A. and B.Sc. alike; and this is, so far, well.
Presumably, however, if one may judge by dates, two of the three
papers will still be common to the two Degrees ; while it is expressly
stated that the examination for Honours will be common. The
arrangements altogether are open to much criticism, but the really
serious matter is the question of principle reverted to by Mr. Magnus.
By the surrender of Logic as a compulsory subject for the Science
Degree, the credit of the University is gravely affected ; and, if the
authorities would but see this, no fear that a way of recovery could
be found from the retrograde step.
We have received from the publisher (J. Baedeker, Iserlohn), Vol. I.
of the third edition of Lange's Geschichte des Materialismus. It con-
tains, besides a portrait of the lamented author, a short sketch of his
life. He was only 47 when he died, on the 27th November, 1875.
Till three weeks before his end he was busy with anew work, Logische
Studien, which will shortly -appear. He began this work on completing
the revised second edition of his Geschichte in 1873. The History, now
become so celebrated, appeared originally in 1865, when Lange, after
having been privat-docent in Bonn (1855-57) and then gymnasial
teacher in Duisburg, was in business as a printer and publisher :
earlier in the same year had appeared his Grundlegung der Mathema-
tischen Psychologie. After other changes of occupation, but always
busy with philosophy, he resumed the academic life in 1870, as
professor in Zurich, whence he passed to Marburg in 1872. He
was also a writer of note on social and political questions, both as
journalist and author. An English translation of his great work
is now announced as in the press.
The hope of attaining a scientific phrenology, excited by recent
physiological work on the brain, has led some French medical men
and others to form a 'Society of mutual (!) Autopsy'. They say,
truly enough, in their articles of foundation, that experiments on
animals throw but little light on the phenomena of intelligence, and
that if anything definite is known of the cerebral functions in man
it has been learned by way of post mortem examination in hospitals.
Here, however, the autopsy is marred through ignorance of the
patients' antecedents, and by the fact that they belong generally to
the uncultivated classes. To be in any way effective, it should be
News. 139
inn de on the brains of men of culture and repute ; and such examin-
ation, it is urged by the founders of the Society, besides increasing
knowledge, would be of signal benefit to a man's descendants, as
indicating weakness or morbid tendencies that might in them be
checked. The members therefore bind themselves to make express
disposition of their bodies, so that after death these and especially the
brain and skull shall be subjected to investigation in ' the laboratory
of anthropology ' ; interment of the remains afterwards to take place
strictly according to the written directions of each person.
The Rev. John Eyfe, librarian of the University of Aberdeen, has been
appointed by the Crown to the vacant chair of Moral Philosophy there.
The new German philosophical quarterly, referred to in our last
number, has now appeared (in October) under the title of Viertel-
jahrschrift der Wissenschaftlichen Philosophic. It is edited by Dr.
Avenarius not, as was formerly stated, by Prof. Wundt, who with
Drs. Goring and Heinze will only co-operate. The key-note of the
journal is struck in the title. It starts from the position that Science
is possible only on a basis of experience, and it will occupy itself with
no Philosophy that is not in this sense scientific. Its range of topics
will practically coincide with that of MIND. One feature in its
scheme is original. Authors of philosophical works are invited to
send in short statements (from a third to half of a page in length) of
what they consider to be the new or characteristic ideas in their works :
these notices will be printed, on the responsibility of the writers, if
they appear of sufficient importance. The advantages of the plan to
authors is obvious, and we shall gladly adopt it in MIND as a means
of overtaking the great variety of native and foreign literature in
philosophy.
Among existing philosophical journals, there is one, La Critique
Philosophique, appearing weekly under the direction of M. Renouvier,
which has not yet received from us the attention it deserves, though
it was mentioned in No. III. (p. 437). This journal, which succeeded
after a break to the yearly publication of V Annee Philosophique by
M. Pillon (a disciple of M. Renouvier's), is now in its fifth year. M.
Renouvier's position will be explained to English readers in an article
on the present state of Philosophy in France which will appear in a
forthcoming number of MIND, and for the present we must be content
to mention below (as we hope to do regularly henceforth) the chief
philosophical articles in the numbers of his journal for the last quarter.
The journal discusses also political questions of the day.
JOURNAL OF SPECULATIVE PHILSOSPHY. Vol. X. No. 1. G. S.
Morris ' The. Philosophy of Art '. J.Watson ' Empiricism and Com-
mon Logic'. . . . K. Th. Bayschofier ' The Idea of Matter (Tyndall's
Problem solved) '. Notes and Discussions. Book Notices. No, 2. J.
"Watson ' Kant's reply to Hume '. J.'H. Pepper ' Darwin's Descent of
Man'. . . . L. P. Hickok ' The two kinds of Dialectic'. H.
Haanel ' Herbart's Ideas on Education '. . . . W. T. Harris (Editor)
' The Relation of Religion to Art ' . Book Notices. No. 3. Editor
140 News.
* History of Philosophy in Outline'. J. Watson 'Hedonism and
Utilitarianism'. T. Gray 'Science in Government'. J. Lachelier
' The Basis of Induction ' (transl.). Kant's Anthropology'' (section transl.).
REVUE PHILOSOPHIQUE. No. X. James Sully ' L'Art et la Psycho-
logie '. J. Delboeuf 'La Logique Algorithmique ' (ii.). E. Gazelles
'La Morale de Grote '. L. Ferri ' Le Proces de Galilee d'apres des
documents inedits'. Observations et documents 'La continuite et
1'identite de la conscience du inoi,' par A. Herzen. Analyses et comptes-
rendus. Revue des Periodiques, &c. No. XI. L. Tannery ' La
Geometrie Imaginaire et la notion d'Espace '. L. Dumont ' M. Del-
boeuf et la Theorie de la Sensibilite '. J. Soury ' L'Histoire du
Materialisme de Lange (ii.) Observations et documents' De la trans-
formation du sens de certains mots,' par A. Darmesteter. Analyses et
comptes-rendus. Revue des Periodiques, &c. No. XII. J. Delboeuf
' La Logique Algorithmique ' (fin.). Th. Ribot ' La Psychologic Eth-
nographique en Allemagne'. J. Soury 'L'Histoire du Materialisme
de Lange ' (fin.). Analyses et comptes-rendus, &c.
LA CRITIQUE PHILOSOPHIQUE. Vine. Aiinee, Nos. 36-45. C. Renou-
vier ' Un point d'histoire uaturelle mentale' (36) ; ' Les labyrinthes de
la metaphysique : L'infini et le continu, Stuart Mill' (37), ' Herbert
Spencer' (42), ' Hegel et M. Shadworth Hodgson' (44) ; ' De la resem-
blance mentale de 1'homme et des autres animaux selon Darwin ' (38).
Bibliographic: Spencer, Social Statics (43); Michaut, De I 9 Imagina-
tion (45).
LA FILOSOFIA DELLE ScuoLE ITALIANS. Vol. XIV. Disp. 1. F. Bona-
telli ' La Filosofia dell Inconscio '. T. Mauiiani ' Delia Evoluzione'.
Bulgariiii ' Sul trattato della Coscienza del Prof. Ferri'. Bibliografia, &c.
Disp. 2. T. Mamiani ' Delia Evoluzione'. L. Ferri ' II metodo psi-
cologico e lo studio della coscienza'. Mamiani 'Filosofia della reli-
gione'. A. Valdarnini ' Effetti delle moderne teorie filosofiche nelle
scienze morali e sociali'. Bibliografia.
VlERTELJAHRSCHRIFT FUR WlSSENSCHAFTLICHE PHILOSOPHIE. I.
Heft i. R. Avenarius ' Zur Einfuhrung '. Fr. Paulsen ' Ueber das
Verhaltniss der Philosophic zur Wissenschaf t '. A. Riehl ' Die Englische
Logik der Gegenwart '. W. Wundt ' Ueber das Kosmologische Pro-
blem'. J. Kollmann ' Aus dem Leben der Cephalopoden'. Selbstan-
zeigen. Bibliogr. Mittheilungen.
ZEITSCHRIFT FUR PHILOSOPHIE, &c. Bd. LXIX. Heft 1. Steffens
' Gewinn fiir die Kenntniss der Gesch. der griech. Phil, aus den Schriften
des Aristoteles ' (Schluss). Richter ' Kant als A.esthetiker '. Rehnisch
' Untersuchungen u. Ergebnisse der Moralstatistik ' (ii.). Recensionen.
Heft 2. Spicker ' Mensch u. Thier '. Milliner' W. Rosenkrantz ' Phil-
osophie ' (i.). Receusionen. Bibliographic.
PHILOSOPHISCHE MONATSHEFTE. Bd. XII. Heft 6, 7. E. Bratus-
check ' Sumini in philosophia honores'. Krohn, Studien zur sokratisch-
platonischen Lite-rat ur (recens.) ; I. H. Fichte, Fragen u. Bedenken ilber die
ndchste Forte ntwicklung deutscher Speculation (recens). Bibliographie.
Heft 8. Spicker, Kant, Hume u. Berkeley (recens.) ; Hermann, Aestheti-
sche Farbenlehre u. Die Aesthetik in ihrer Geschichte u. als wissenschaftliches
System (recens.) ; Heppe, Geschichte der quietistischen Mystik (recens.).
Bibliographie, &c. Heft 9. H. F. Muller ' Plotin u. Schiller iiber die
Schonheit '. Paulsen, KantiscJie Erhenntnisstheorie (recens.) ; Hume, Unter-
suchung in Betreff des mensch. Verstandes, iibers. von Kirchmann (recens.).
Todtenhaupt 'Mechanismus u. Teleologie '. Bibliographie, &c.
ERRATUM. In No. IV., p. 562, 1. 4, for when read where.
No. 6.] [April, 1877.
MIND
A QUARTERLY REVIEW
OF
PSYCHOLOGY AND PHILOSOPHY.
I. ME. SPENCER'S PRINCIPLES OF SOCIOLOGY.*
MR. HERBERT SPENCER has now set himself to " crown the
edifice " of Evolutionary Philosophy, the present volume being
the first of two devoted to systematising the principles of man's
social development. It is to be regretted that weak health has
made it expedient for him to publish this first volume in a
slightly incomplete state, rather than keep his readers waiting
for months till he should be able to add some final pages. Prac-
tically, however, this deficiency has no ill effect, for Mr. Spencer's
arguments are usually complete so far as they go, and the sepa-
rate departments of this volume may be criticised without fear
of the author's conclusions being altered in later chapters.
In acceding to the wish of the Editor of MIND that I should make
such comments as occurred to me on Mr. Spencer's system of
Sociology, I do not undertake a formal review of it as a whole.
But as a worker for many years on the ground where Mr. Spencer
is now engaged, I am desirous of noticing where he has followed
lines already traced, where he has gone farther and excavated
deeper than -those who went before him, and where he has been
led, as the ablest men are at times, to waste his labour in blind
cuttings. To me such examination is particularly interesting
with regard to the chapters occupying about half this volume, in
* The Principles of Sociology, by HERBERT SPENCER. Vol. I., 1876.
Williams & Norgate.
10
142 Mr. Spencer's 'Principles of Sociology*.
which Mr. Spencer treats of the evolution of religious doctrine
and worship. These chapters may, I think, be properly described
as a new statement, with important modifications and additions,
of the theory of Animism which (to pass over less complete
statements in previous years) was given by me in summary in
the Journal of the Ethnological Society for April 26th, 1871, and
was worked out with great fulness of detail in my Primitive
Culture, published in 1871. Stated shortly, this theory is,
in the first place, that a conception of the Human Soul is a
crude but reasonable inference by primitive man from obvious
phenomena. Man has two things belonging to him, his
phantom and his life. The human shapes which appear in
dreams and visions seem to the savage to be real objects, con-
nected with the bodies whose image they bear, but separable
from them so as to be capable of presenting themselves to people
at a distance. The life which seems to be present in the
active waking healthy living man, but absent or lessened in
sleep, lethargy, disease, and death, is also something connected
with the body, but separable from it. The outcome of these two
sets of considerations is the primitive and savage doctrine of a
ghost-soul, which accounts under one head for dreams and visions
and for life and death. In the second place, the notion of a ghost-
soul as the animating principle in man, being once arrived at, is
extended by easy steps to souls of lower animals, and even of
lifeless objects, as well as to the general conception of spirits and
deities, who are as it were souls of nature, and the belief in whose
presence furnishes the savage with a rational explanation of facts
and events which require accounting for. On this view of Primitive
Animism, the general belief in souls and deities is not ultimately
derived from occult tendencies in man or revelations to man,
but is based on the philosophy of remote rude ages, whose doc-
trine has been only more or less modified in modern theologies.
It need hardly be said that such a view of the origin of funda-
mental theological ideas is revolutionary. If it, or anything like
it, can be proved to the satisfaction of the educated world to be
the true view, then the generally received systems of theology
must either be developed into systems more in harmony with
modern knowledge, or they must after a time be superseded and
fall into decay. It is thus a matter of importance to the world
that Mr. Spencer, a philosopher whose systematic thought and
persuasive argument act forcibly on the world's opinion, should
treat the development of religious ideas on the animistic line.
Though he does not adopt the term Animism, his system agrees
with it, not merely in some special conclusions, but in its two
fundamental positions, the origination of the idea of a human
soul and the evolution from this of all other ideas of spirits and
Mr. Spencer's 'Principles of Sociology '. 143
deities. How far his conclusions have been arrived at inde-
pendently of mine I cannot say, nor is this a matter of much
consequence. Indeed it seems to me that, in its main
principles, the theory requires no great stretch of scientific
imagination to arrive at it, inasmuch as it is plainly suggested
by the savages themselves in their own accounts of their
own religious beliefs. It is not too much to say that, given
an unprejudiced student with the means (only of late years
available) of making a thorough survey of the evidence, it is
three to one that the scheme of the development of religious
doctrine and worship he draws up will be an animistic scheme.
But as yet both the. evidence and the arguments are very imper-
fect, and those who agree in the main theory may diverge widely
in its subordinate branches. In comparing Mr. Spencer's system
with my own, I am naturally anxious to see where the later
writer differs from the earlier, and where for the better and
where for the worse.
Before entering on the problem of the origin of religion, Mr.
Spencer prepares the way by an interesting study of the mental
condition of primitive man, whose vagueness of ideas and loose-
ness of reasoning must be taken well into account in investiga-
ting ancient phases of theology. Here, however, there already
comes into view a tendency of the author's for which readers must
be warned to make allowance. In dealing with the phrases
by which rude races convey their thoughts, he is prone to a
tightness of interpretation which their loose, unscientific lan-
guages will not bear, and which may give wrong notions of what
actually passes in their minds. Thus the following passage is
quoted by him (p. 118) as proof of extreme inconsistency in the
minds of the natives of Madagascar " In almost the same breath,
a Malagasy will express his belief that when he dies he ceases
altogether to exist . . . and yet confess the fact that he is
in the habit of praying to his ancestors ". But even among
modern Englishmen we hear it said that " It is all over with
poor So-and-so he is no more well, perhaps he's better off
where he is ". We know well enough what is meant by this,
and that it really involves no gross inconsistency. Curiously
enough, Mr. Spencer has overlooked the fact that the very pas-
sage he quotes (which is taken from Ellis's History of Madagascar,
vol. I., p. 393) is there followed by a sufficient explanation of
what the Malagasy actually means. " If asked, were his an-
cestors not human beings like himself, and did they not cease
altogether to exist when they died how then can it be consis-
tent to pray to them when they have no longer any being, he will
answer, ' True, but there is their matoatoa,' their ghost ; and
this is supposed to be hovering about the tomb when the body
1 44 Mr. Spencer's 'Principles of Sociology '.
is interred," &c. The whole account goes to prove that the
Malagasy really holds his animistic belief about as consistently
as do our own theologians. It may here be remarked that the
besetting sin of us all who study primitive ideas is to treat the
savage mind according to the needs of our argument, sometimes
as extremely ignorant and inconsequent, at other times as ex-
tremely observant and logical, there being abundant statements
of travellers forthcoming which can be used in support of either
view. Mr. Spencer, with all his evident desire to be impartial,
has not always shaken himself free of this tendency. Thus (in
Appendix B) when he is arguing against Prof. Max Miiller's
views of the sources of myth in the minds of uncultured men,
Mr. Spencer insists on their minds being devoid of rational
curiosity as to nature, and argues that in early stages the intel-
lectual factor required for myth-making is wanting till long
after the ghost- theory has originated a mechanism of causation.
In this connection he cites a remark by Dr. Rink as to the
Esquimaux, that " existence in general is accepted as a fact,
without any speculation as to its primitive origin ". Now this is
rather hard on the Greenlanders (who are Dr. Rink's Esquimaux),
seeing that they not only have a well-developed mythology but
a well-developed animistic theology ; and in other places (pp.
131, 157, 164, 192, &c.) Mr. Spencer himself cites their notions
of dreams, shadows, ghosts, &c., as evidence of the very develop-
ment of such speculative ideas as he here denies to them. He
even attributes to them a philosophical subtlety which seems
beyond what they can claim. Referring to their well-known no-
tion that man has two souls, his shadow and his breath, and that
the soul goes out hunting and visiting in dreams, he brings in the
additional refinement that the shadow, which becomes invisible at
night, is that soul which at night wanders away and has adventures.
This he states on the authority of Cranz, but it seemed to me
too good to be true, and on referring to my copy (the original
German edition of 1765) I find that the words of the old mis-
sionary do not justify it. On the whole it appears that Mr.
Spencer, in handling the evidence of savage ideas, is apt to find
the utmost strictness and coherence in their philosophy, while
unduly pushing aside proofs of their mythic and poetic fancy,
which are really not less forcible.
In carrying on the consideration of the savage state of mind,
Mr. Spencer introduces (p. 119) an important element which
has hardly been brought into notice before. On few subjects
must primitive views of nature have suffered more alteration
than as to the possibility of transformation or metamorphosis.
The savage watches a cloud drifting away and vanishing in the
sky; he sees the stars appear and disappear; flashes of lightning
Mr. Spencer's 'Principles of Sociology '.. 145'
cross the heavens for an instant and are gone; the raindrops
form pools of water which in a few hours gradually depart;
shadows and dreams are beheld for a time and then all at once
they are not. Growth shows changes hardly less great : from the
seed springs the shoot,and then. the flower; out of. eggs come chicks ;
the caterpillar turns into- the chrysalis and thence issues the but-
terfly ; every carcase and mudbank show spontaneous generation
of animals; while fossils- seem to prove .that animals and plants
may be turned into stones. Such phenomena, without the expla-
nation which the world owes to later science, must impress on
the uncultivated man a scarcely limited belief in transformation.
Thus it does not strike a barbarian as at all incredible that a
man should turn into a rock or a tree, or that his personality
should become invisible yet still go to and fro, like the wind
which he cannot see even when he is struggling in its violent
grasp. This argument of Mr. Spencer's will do much to clear
a way in the minds of unprepared readers for a fair appreciation
of what the belief in spirit-life must mean in savage or primi-
tive thought.
Of even more consequence is the treatment (p. 143, &c.)
of the opinion that the primitive mind tends to ascribe life
to things which are not living. This is the assumption which
lies at the basis of Auguste Comte's famous theory (founded
on that of De Brosses in the last century) of Fetishism
as the primitive phase of religion, in which man con-
ceived of all external bodies as animated by a life analogous
to his own, and accordingly could deify and worship not only
animals, but even trees and stones, in fact any object whatso-
ever. Anthropologists of the present generation owe much to
Comte, whose theory of the origin of religion must, however, be
displaced by the very inquiries it has led to. Mr. Spencer, as
his earlier essays show very fully, was one of those who ac-
cepted Comte's doctrine of primitive Fetishism. In the present
\vork, however, not only does he discard Comte's idea of the
primitive conception of Fetishism, which he reduces (as I had
June) to a secondary development of the doctrine of spirits,
but he now attacks Comte's position at its very basis, by
disputing the assertion that children do seriously suppose life
in the dolls or chairs which they treat as alive in play. This
is, as he argues, mere dramatising, and the child would be as
utterly astonished as we should be, if the doll were really to
bite. Following this up at p. 343, he argues that the primeval
man would be as little likely to gratuitously confuse a mere
fetish object with a living creature. Mr. Spencer's reasoning
is most forcible and will strengthen the position of the doctrine
as the underlying cause not only in fetish-worship but in nature-
146 Mr. Spencer's 'Principles of Sociology \
worship with its great deities. One may doubt, however, whether
lie does not go too far in cutting away from primitive life the
personifying faculty to which both mythology and religion owe
SD much. To both the child and the savage, human will is the
first-conceived source and reason of action, and the early myth-
maker probably found it as easy as a modern child does to
invest sun and stars, clouds and rivers, rocks and trees, with a
personality drawn from human life. Many readers who go on
to find what artificial devices Mr. Spencer is driven to in ex-
plaining the origin of nature-myths, will come to the con-
clusion that his criticism of Comte's doctrine has gone too
far in sweeping it away, good arid bad together. He has
emptied out the bath with the baby in it, as the German
proverb says.
It is not necessary to go into details as to the chapters on the
origin of the doctrine of the human soul, as founded on a rational
interpretation of phenomena such as sleep and dreams, trance
and death, &c., except on special points. It is to be noticed that,
in stating the effect of dreams in proving to the savage that man
has beside his body a second self or soul, Mr. Spencer (p. 151)
strengthens the case by pointing out that somnambulism tends
to confirm the belief, as proving that men may really go away
during their sleep and do the things they dream of doing. Also
(p. 154) he draws attention to the effect which a belief in dreams
being real events must produce on the uncultivated man's notion
of the possibilities of nature. In his dreams he finds himself
flying through the air, or sees his companion suddenly turn into
a wild beast ; thus it is not strange that he should believe that
such things really happen in life. I have argued (Prim. CuL,
vol. I., p. 496), that the philosophical notion of ideas is directly
derived from the savage notion of the souls of animals and
tilings, itself mainly derived from the appearance of their
phantoms in dreams. Mr. Spencer (p. 156) goes further,
endeavouring to trace from the experience of dreams the de-
velopment of the whole conception of mind. The primary
hypothesis which grew up to account for dreams was the hypo-
thesis of two entities in man ; transform the second entity (or
soul) by dropping physical characters irreconcilable with the
facts, and the modern hypothesis of a mental self or mind
becomes established. It is to be desired that Mr. Spencer
should expand this daring (but I venture to think highly
reasonable) argument beyond its present short statement, and
put it in full fighting order to receive the blows which the
metaphysicians will aim at it.
The well-known evidence from . the beliefs of uncultured
Mr. Spencer's 'Principles of Sociology '. 147
nations is next adduced by Mr. Spencer to show how the savage
conception of the soul serves its purpose in accounting for such
vital phenomena as trance, lethargy, &c., when the soul is
supposed to be out of the body, and for the recovery of the
patient to normal life by the soul's supposed return. Death is
of course looked on under this animistic theory as the result of
the soul's permanent departure. It is to be noticed, however,
that Mr. Spencer, in following up the course of these ideas,
gives the argument several new turns. The fact of death is not
at once certainly apparent even to our modern medical know-
ledge, and to the savage it must remain doubtful for an indefinite
time whether the cessation of vital functions is only a prolonged
insensibility, which may be put an end to by the other self or
soul returning. To the practices which would arise during this
doubtful interval, while the bystanders were still uncertain
whether to treat the body as alive or not, Mr. Spencer refers the
origin of a number of funeral rites, as where among the Ami
(not Assu) islanders, several times during the few days after
one has died, they try to make him eat, filling the corpse's
mouth with food and arrack till it runs over the floor. That
this matter-of-fact proceeding should have been the first stage
of the ceremony of offering food to the dead, afterwards carried
on less materially in sacrifice, is a suggestion of great interest.
That the preservation of the corpse by drying and embalming
has often been intended to keep the body for the life or soul to
return to, is well known by direct historical evidence. But Mr.
Spencer's remarks on the subject make much clearer than here-
tofore the intimate connection between the primitive notion of
death being only a temporary departure of the soul from the
body, and the theological doctrine of bodily resurrection, which has
been so little affected by the growth in our knowledge of biology
and chemistry, that " on 5th July, 1874, the Bishop of Lincoln
preached against cremation, as tending to undermine the faith
of mankind in a bodily resurrection ". To the primitive savage,
however, the notion of the corpse being resuscitated a few
days hence was a practical probability of present concern, while
after many ages the civilised man transferred it into the indefinite
future, and it passed into a theological tenet referring to a future
life. In connection with the doctrine of bodily resuscitation,
Mr. Spencer refers to the well-known savage or barbaric rite of
the survivors mutilating themselves as an act of mourning or
propitiation, as by cutting off finger-joints, clipping locks of
hair, or lacerating themselves to draw blood. It has for many
years been well understood by writers on the history of religions,
that at least part of these proceedings are sacrifices of a part of
148 Mr. Spencer's 'Principles of Sociology \
the mourner's body to represent the whole, and this view Mr.
Spencer adopts. But how he makes out (p. 180) that such rites
imply the belief in bodily resurrection rather than some more
spiritual phase of the belief in future life, does not seem clear,
and one would think some part of the argument may have been
left out. Passing "on (p. 201) to the practices of placing near or
burying with the corpse a supply of food, weapons, garments, &c.,
Mr. Spencer seems to take as their original intention that they
were to be materially used by the dead on resuscitation. This must
be admitted as at least possible, and indeed the idea, so far as it
existed, would serve as a stepping-stone to the more prevalent
barbaric intention, that the soul of the dead man should use on
his journey to the spirit- world, or after he got there, what may
be called the souls of the weapons and garments and other things
sacrificed. There is proof enough that this came in at a very
early stage of thought, and indeed it seems involved in the
common habit of the lower races to break or bum the objects
offered, an act which flatly contradicts the idea of the corpse
coming to life again and using the things themselves, while it is
fully consistent with the idea of dispatching their souls for the
use of the man's soul. As for the funeral sacrifice of animals
and men with the dead, this is so rational an outcome of
the notion of the soul departing from the body at death,
that there seems ground for referring it to the fully developed
animistic stage. It is indeed a necessary corollary from the
primitive dream-theory of souls, that mere things should have
souls (object-souls as I have called them), inasmuch as their
phantoms actually appear in dreams or visions, as obviously as
men's own phantoms. Mr. Spencer of course admits the exist-
ence of stages of religion when people not only believed in the
existence of souls of men, animals, and things, but when they
dispatched all sorts of such souls by funeral sacrifice for the use
of the dead man's soul. The question between us is this, that
Mr. Spencer brings the notion of wife and slave-sacrifice into
close connection with the putting of food or other things, to be
materially used by the returning dead, while this, it seems to me,
is anticipating the actual course of belief. But the subject will
require more sifting.
Savage religions, as they assume the existence of the ghosts of
the dead who appear to the living in dreams, have to deal with
the question where is the land of souls, the abiding-place - of
these ghosts. This question they answer in a number of ways.
Perhaps the most primitive may be that the ghosts continue
near the corpse, or hover about among the living, who indeed
often desert the house of the dead and leave it to the ghost.
But it is also believed by many tribes that the land of souls is
Mr. Spencer s 'Principles of Sociology '. 149
in some distant part of the country, or on mountain- tops or
remote islands, or down in some cavernous recess or under-world
below the earth, or up in the sky. In fact, the ghost-land is
located by the savage theologian in almost every possible region
he can think of, and there is some difficulty in assigning the
reasons which may have led him to the choice of each. Mr.
Spencer's contribution to this subject in several points advances
it, but sometimes his suggestions seem less reasonable than those
of previous writers. No doubt, for instance, savages who have
migrated from some distance often suppose their ghosts to return
to the home-land, which thus becomes, in their tradition, the
land of souls. But savage tribes, who, it should be remembered,
appreciate geographical direction with tolerable accuracy, give
accounts of the direction of the spirit-land, which show the in-
sufficiency of any attempt to explain them as due to mere re-
collection of migration. Mr. Spencer's own instances (p. 221)
are enough to prove that he has neglected some important
factor in the case. Tribes hardly migrate from the west rather
than from the north or south, or from intermediate points such
as north-west. Yet of the fourteen localities he gives for the
land of souls, seven are in the west against three in the east,
three in the north and only one in the south. This does not at
all exaggerate the actual preponderance among mankind of the
belief that the land of souls or its entrance is in the west where
the sun goes down. And if we ask where the sun goes down
to, there are plenty of tribes ready with the answer that there is
below the earth an under-world into whose cavernous recesses
the sun descends. When Mr. Spencer has to account for the
world-wide belief in a subterranean Hades peopled by the
ghosts of the departed, all he has to offer is the suggestion that
it arose from dwelling and burying the dead in caves. This
latter idea has been suggested by several writers, and is reason-
able enough as an accessory cause of the belief in Hades, but is
no more equal to explaining the whole belief in an under-world
of the dead, than the notion of migration is equal to explaining
why the land of Hades is entered from the west. To understand
the mass of different beliefs on this subject, it is necessary to give
proper weight to the distinct notions of primitive cosmology,
that there is an under-world into which the sun goes down at
night, and to this must be attached the natural inference known
among the. lower races, that in this subterranean Hades the
ghosts, invisible in the daytime, have their home, rarely coming
up to earth except in the night, when ghosts appear and when
the time is for dreams. One cannot but think that Mr. Spencer's
omission of these well-known points may be due to a dislike of
anything like sun-myth. But such solar ideas, whether belong-
150 Mr. Spencers 'Principles of Sociology '.
ing to myth or to rude science, do indisputably arise in the
primitive mind, and exercise an influence on the formation of
belief which cannot be ignored. Again, some other explana-
tions which Mr. Spencer resorts to seem hardly strong enough
to bear the stress laid on them. Thus the practice of burying
the dead on mountain-tops is no doubt sometimes connected
with the idea of these places being the resort of ghosts (p. 218).
But the author goes on to argue (pp. 229-32) that this may have
led by confusion of ideas to the notion of the spirit-world being
in the heaven itself, so that the mountain-stronghold of a con-
quering race may have led the inferior tribes around to belief in
a heavenly paradise of divine beings, the chief of the tribe being
promoted to divine dignity as the thunder-god. Of course there
is a possibility of such ideas having sometimes arisen in such
ways, but it would require strong evidence to persuade us that
mountaineers ever really came to be taken for spirits dwelling
in the sky ; and it is unfortunate that Mr. Spencer, who offers
fair evidence in support of notions comparatively easy of
belief, should here draw so largely on his reader's imagina-
tion. Before quitting the subject of primitive ideas of a world
after death, notice should be taken of an ingenious hypothesis,
though this is not the place to discuss it properly on the evi-
dence. It is well known that the religions of numerous nations,
savage and cultured, recognise the notion of a river which the
departed soul has to cross by bridge or ferry or otherwise, to
reach the land of souls on the other side. How did this idea of
a river of death occur so often to the savage imagination ? Mr.
Spencer suggests (p. 224) that it was started among tribes by
the tradition of an actual migration from the country of their
forefathers. As they had no boats with them, some large river
to be crossed was naturally a chief obstacle to overcome, and the
re-passing it would be regarded as a chief obstacle on the journey
made by the dead back to the home-land of their nation, now
become their spirit-land. It is not impossible, he continues,
that the conceived danger of this river-crossing may have led to
the idea that spirits cannot pass over running streams.
The argument of the present work (ch. xvi., &c.) as to the
development in primitive belief, by which the original human
ghost-souls gave rise to the class of pervading spirits or
demons, runs nearly parallel with my own (Primitive Culture,
chap, xiv., &c.). A vast proportion of the spirits imagined by
men never even lose their original quality of being human
ghosts or manes; as such they enter or possess men, causing
madness, disease, or inspiration, persecuting them or tending
them as guardian spirits, killing them or saving their lives.
Beliefs ancient and modern in demoniacal possession and beset-
Mr. Spencer's 'Principles of Sociology 1 . 151
merit, in inspiration by deities and accompaniment by guardian
spirits, as well as exorcism and kindred rites resulting from
such beliefs, are developed from the primitive animistic
conception, and these phantom-beings pervading the universe
become the personal causes of events. Thus the spiritual
series, beginning with human souls, extends on into other
special classes of spirits, of whom some are mere minor
demons, angels, elves, &c., while some few rise to the rank of
great deities, controlling man and nature. There is no real
break in the whole series of conceptions which begins with the
human ghost and ends with the highest divinity ; nor is there
the least difficulty in understanding how the prayer and worship
and offering, at first addressed to the human ghost who is pro-
pitiated by them in the most absolutely human way, came to
be addressed with more or less change of meaning and expansion
of ceremonial by the priest to the divinity in his temple. But
though the general course of development seems clear enough,
there are many open points in the details which will require
years of careful study to settle. One part of the matter is
brought into new clearness by Mr. Spencer when (p. 272, &c.)
he sketches the probable transition from the burial-place, whi-
ther the survivors came with food to propitiate the ghost still
lingering there, to the stately temple, the abode of a ghost-like
deity, who received there his solemn sacrifices. I think, how-
ever, that Mr. Spencer scarcely recognises enough the develop-
ment of the idea of spiritual beings, in which the primary
ghost-nature is almost lost, and the demon or nature-spirit
assumes an independent character distinct from humanity. Not
to dwell on other parts of the exposition, which will be approved
as a matter of course by readers who accept the general principles
of animistic development, I wish to devote my remaining re-
marks to two subjects where Mr. Spencer may seem to others,
as he does to me, to extend parts of the theory till they stand
on unsafe ground. I refer to his scheme of the origin of animal-
worship, and of the great polytheistic divinities.
Taking animal-worship in general as a disguised form of
ancestor-worship, Mr. Spencer assigns (ch. xxii.) the causes
which, in his opinion, have led men to worship such lower
creatures. Due importance is given to the effect of beliefs in
animal transformation (as in the familiar cases of were-wolves
and man-tigers), as also of the doctrine of transmigration of
souls into animal bodies, which are often recognised as incarna-
tions of the dead by their frequenting their old homes (as in the
case of tame house-snakes thought to be returned ancestors), or
by their being found near the burial-place. All this is plain
enough, but Mr. Spencer lays much greater stress on another
152 Mr. Spencers 'Principles of Sociology'.
cause the misunderstanding of personal names. A man is
called Tiger ; he dies, his great-grandchildren hearing from their
parents in their rude indefinite phrases the name of this ances-
tor, suppose themselves to be descended from an actual tiger,
and thence arises the belief in a divine tiger-ancestry, and a
worship of tigers. Now, though Mr. Spencer seems to have no
actual proof that anything amounting to this has ever actually
happened, yet it must be allowed that such proof would be
difficult to get at. So let us admit at least the possibility of
its having sometimes happened, thus accepting it as one of the
various mythical processes which may have contributed to
animal-worship. But the question is, whether such a possible
cause is at all commensurate with the great place in the religion of
the world ascribed to it by Mr. Spencer. Look at such a case as
that of the Patagonians, divided into animal castes or families,
such as the caste of the tiger, the lion, the guanaco, and the ostrich,
each of these castes being presided over by a particular deity-
its creator. Is it in accordance with probability that such a
systematic division should have arisen from chance-misunder-
standing of the names of four ancestors, who happened by
chance to be provided with convenient names to make up a
neat symmetrical set of animal-totems ? Moreover, it is not
once, but a number of times, and in distant regions of the globe,
that such symmetrical sets of clan-names have to be accounted
for, as, for instance, among the Bechuanas with their division
into the clans of the crocodile, fish, lion, wild vine. This hardly
looks like the result of chance verbal misunderstanding of one
particular class of personal names, which happened to be taken
from animals and plants. The present theory was published by
Mr. Spencer in his paper " On tlie Origin of Animal- Worship "
in the Fortnight 1 1/ Review, May, 1870. Mr. A. Lang, in the same
periodical, 1873, objected that early man knew too little as to
who his progenitors were. It is a point which any ethnologist
would notice, that the very tribes most distinguished for their
division by animal-totems reckon descent not on the male but
011 the female side. Thus a North American who belongs to
the clan of Wolf, inherited this totem not from his father, or
grandfather, or great-grandfather, but from his mother ; yet, if
a personal name at all, it was a man's and not a woman's. A
remark of Mr. Spencer's (p. 667) meets this, though in a way
which seems to me to show how artificial his hypothesis is :
" Commonly the names of the clans which are forbidden to
intermarry, such as Wolf, Bear, Eagle, Whale, &c., are names
given to men; implying, as I have before contended ( 170-3),
descent from distinguished male ancestors bearing those names
descent which, notwithstanding the system of female kinship,
Mr. Spencer's 'Principles of Sociology \ 153
was remembered when there was pride in the connection ". For
my own part, I cannot think that Mr. Spencer's ingenious guess
has solved the mystery which still hangs over the origin of the
totem-system, and over that large part of animal-worship which
cannot be explained as resulting either from direct worship by
savages of powerful, dangerous beasts like the bear or tiger, or
from the notion that beasts are transformed men, or inhabited
by human souls, or fetishes, or incarnations of other spirits.
Turning now to Mr. Spencer's explanations of the great deities
of polytheistic religion, it is well known that many of them
simply result from expansion and idealisation of divine ancestors,
actual or imagined. Even in our own time, in India or South
Africa, the soul of a deceased warrior or sorcerer may pass into
a local deity of some importance, and the apotheosis of a Eoman
Emperor may be paralleled among the modern Polynesians whose
kings were talked of with divine attributes even in life, and be-
came great celestial potentates at death. And when barbaric
theology works back in imagination to first ancestors, it readily
produces for belief and worship such great divine beings as the
Unkulunkulu of the Zulus, the Old-old-one, ancestor, god, and
creator. Nor is there any difficulty in believing that a real
man distinguished for any particular art or power should become
a patron god of his particular department, much as St. Peter is the
patron saint of fishmongers. All this is part and parcel of the
animistic theory of religion. But Mr. Spencer seems to stretcli
the principle of deities being actual ancestors deified somewhat
far. Thus (p. 417) he treats the Kamchatkan legend of Kutka,
maker of heaven and earth and first father of men, as founded
on recollection of a real early ancestor. Maybe ; but the stories
the natives tell of him are mostly the wildest of fables, and it is
quite as easy to invent names for the inferred first pair of an-
cestors, the Adam and Eve of a race, as to remember actual
ancestors for many generations. Some cases where Mr. Spencer's
view admits of being tested, hardly look encouraging. Thus
(p. 313) he treats as a real remembered ancestor the divinity
named Quiateot, who the Nicaraguans said sent them the rain,
their account of him adding that he is a man and has father and
mother, and those dwell where the Sun rises in heaven. If,
however, we look at the etymology of the name Quiateot, it is
seen simply to mean Rain-god (Mexican quiahuitl rain, teotl
god), which much lowers the probability of its having been a
real ancestor's name. Mr. Spencer's theory leads him (p. 422)
not only to introduce seriously the so-called "historical" Odin,
who is written of in the Heimsk ringlet as an ancient invader-king
and sorcerer in Scandinavia, but he even treats him as the real
personage from whom the process of ancestor-worship de-
154 Mr. Spencer's 'Principles of Sociology '.
veloped the Scandinavian deity, Odin the All-father. That is
to say, a legend which rests on the authority of a chronicle of
the 13th century, and which, from a historical point of view,
stands about on a par with the legend of Brutus of Britain, is
offered as explaining the existence of a divinity whose real
antiquity is shown by his belonging to both the Teutonic and
the Scandinavian nations, as far back as there is distinct record
of their pantheon, and notwithstanding their long-diverged his-
tory and languages. Mr. Spencer here engages his theory in
conflict not merely with the speculations of mythologists, but
with the canons of sober historical criticism.
A scarcely less weak point, it must seem to many students, is
exf)osedj by Mr. Spencer in chap, xxiv., where he constructs a
general theory to account for the great nature-gods of polytheism,
from misunderstanding of personal names of real ancestors, and
other mere verbal misunderstandings which, when repeated on
authority, are supposed to have passed into religious beliefs.
For instance, people reaching a foreign shore in boats may be
called " men of the sea," or by an easy transition, " children of
the sea," whence legend may evolve a conception of the Sea
itself as a divine parent (p. 395). Or if a tribe migrates from the
east and hence conies to be called " children of the sun," this is
a source out of which the conception of the Sun as a divine
ancestor may arise (p. 406). Or some noted warrior may be
called Sun (as Pedro de Alvarado was by the Aztecs from his
frank, fair countenance, and golden hair), or a king may be com-
pared metaphorically with the sun, as many indeed have been ;
and hereby again later generations may be led to believe in a
divine Sun or Sun-god. Or when a man is named Dawn (a real
instance is given of a New Zealand chief called Heavenly Dawn,
from his having been born at sunrise), and such a man becomes
noted and traditions of him are handed down in which uncritical
savages identify him with the real dawn, then the adventures
would be interpreted in such a manner as the phenomena of the
dawn made most feasible (p. 399), and thus would be produced
one of those legends which mythologists call dawn-myths. Now
Mr. Spencer of course never adduces as a cause anything that is
actually impossible, and divine myths and beliefs may have at
times grown up in such ways. To take the most probable case
here given, it is mentioned (p. 394) that the Santals worship as
their national god, Marang Buru, the great mountain (the name is
misspelt Nurang), and his explanation of this is that the people,
who regard the eastern Himalayas as their natal region, have con-
founded the notion of a mountain being the source of their race
with that of a mountain being a personal parent, a divine
ancestor. It may be so, though one would like rather stronger
Mr. Spencer's 'Principles of Sociology '. 155
evidence. But when we look at the polytheistic systems of the
world at large, it is seen how consistently the same great divini-
ties re-appear among remote tribes ; in all quarters of the world
are found representatives of the Heaven-god, the Earth-god, the
Sea-god, the Sun-god, the Moon-god, the Wind-gods, &c. The
question at once suggests itself : Did concatenations of verbal
blunders happen scores of times among scores of different
nations, so as after all to work round to the simple result that
savages and barbarians are apt to recognise among their chief
gods certain personal divinities who are attached to or embodied
in the great obvious phenomena of nature ? I cannot but
think that on comparison of the verbal misunderstanding-
theory with the facts of polytheism which it has to account for, it
will be rejected as having the doctrine of chances against it.
To account for the prevalence of polytheistic nature-worship,
we must ascribe it to some consistent common cause acting on
men's minds. For my own part, I fail to see anything to object
to in the ordinary notion that savages do directly personify the
Sun or the Sky, the Winds or the Itivers, treating them as great
beings acting by will, and able to do good or harm to men. It
is the easiest way in which rude minds can contemplate them.
It is favoured by the ambiguity of language which arises from
speaking of inanimate objects in the terms applied to persons,
as in an example of Mr. Spencer's own, where a child seeing a
great meteor, exclaims, " 0, mamma, there's the moon rinnin'
awa' ". And when in early stages of religion the notion gained
ground of nature-spirits made after the likeness of human souls,
the. great powers of nature would be more and more identified
with divine personal beings, glorified developments of the same
original human type. While fully agreeing with Mr. Spencer
in thinking that many of the current speculations on the origin
of " nature-myths " to be met with in modern books on com-
parative mythology are mere fancies, as mythical as the myths
themselves, I cannot but think he has gone too far in the
opposite direction by so far ignoring the myth-making tendency
of primitive man. This is too large a subject to discuss at the
end of a notice like the present, but it is needful to mention it,
as it is in rivalry with this theory of mythic personification of
nature that Mr. Spencer brings into such prominence the hypo-
thesis of verbal misunderstandings.
In conclusion, it is proper to mention the reason which has
led me to dwell so much more on the points where Mr.
Spencer's views differ from my own, than on the branches of
the subject, really more both in number and consequence, as to
which I have the high satisfaction of finding my own inferences
from the facts to be in unity with those arrived at by so
156 Consciousness and Unconsciousness.
eminent a thinker. My object in so often taking the line of a
fault-finder is mainly this. As yet there is but a limited
number of students who seriously occupy themselves with the
problem of the development of religious ideas as viewed from
the ethnological standing-point. Probably in a few years' time
public interest in this great problem will be much wider and
deeper, a result to which the present work must largely contri-
bute. When this happens, a vast controversy will no doubt set
in, for which it will be advantageous to ethnologists to be well
prepared beforehand. The previous interval may therefore be
well turned to account in settling discrepancies as to sub-
ordinate points, so that the weaker parts of the theory of
animistic development may be cut out and their places supplied
with stronger evidence and reasoning. Mr. Spencer's work
seems to me to do this in several branches of the subject, arid
notably as to ancestor-worship and fetishism. It is the best
acknowledgment of the importance of the work at once to raise
objection to the points which seem objectionable, that it may be
settled as soon as possible whether the author will be able to
maintain them or not.
EDWARD B. TYLOR.
II CONSCIOUSNESS AND UNCONSCIOUSNESS .
SCIENCE demands precision of terms ; and in this sense Con-
dillac was justified in defining it " unc langue bienfaite". The
sciences of Measurement are exact because of the precision of
their terms, and are powerful because of their exactness. The
sciences of Classification cannot aspire to this precision, and
therefore, although capable of attaining to a fuller knowledge of
phenomena than can be reached by their rivals, this advantage
of a wider range is accompanied by the disadvantage of a less
perfect exposition of results. While physicists and chemists
have only to settle the significance of the facts observed, biologists
and social theorists have over and above this to settle the
significance of the terms they employ in expressing the facts
observed. Hence more than half their disputes are at bottom
verbal.
This is markedly the case in the question of Automatism. One
man declares that animals are automata ; another that they are
conscious automata ; and while it is quite possible to hold these
views and not practically be in disagreement with the views
* From a forthcoming volume on The Physical Basis of Mind.
Consciousness and Unconsciousness. 157
of ordinary men, or indeed with the views of spiritualist and
materialist philosophers, we can never be sure that the advocates
of Automatism do not mean what they are generally understood
to mean. If a man says that by an automaton he does not
here mean a machine, such as a steam-engine or a watch, but a
vital mechanism which has its parts so adjusted that its actions
resemble those of a machine ; and if he adds that this automaton
is also conscious of some of its actions, though unconscious of
others, we can only object to his using terms which have misleading
connotations. If he mean by "conscious automata," that animals
are mechanisms moved on " purely mechanical principles," their
consciousness having nothing whatever to do with the production
of their actions, then indeed our objection is not only to his use
of terms, but to his interpretation of the facts.
The questions of fact are two : Are animal mechanisms right-
fully classed beside machines ? and, Is consciousness a coefficient
in the actions of animal mechanism ? The first has already been
answered ; the second demands a preliminary settlement of the
terms " conscious," " unconscious," " voluntary," and " invol-
untary ". The aim of Physiology is to ascertain the particular
combinations of the elementary parts involved in each particular
function in a word, the mechanism of organic phenomena ; and
the modern Reflex Theory is an attempt to explain this mechan-
ism on purely mechanical principles, without the co-operation of
other principles, especially those of Sensation and Volition. It
is greatly aided by the ambiguity of current terms. We are
accustomed to speak of certain actions as being performed
unconsciously or involuntarily. We are also accustomed to say
that Consciousness is necessary to transform an impression into
a sensation, and that Volition is the equivalent of conscious effort.
When, therefore, unconscious and involuntary actions are re-
corded, they seem to be actions of an insentient mechanism.
The Reflex Theory once admitted, a rigorous logic could not fail
to extend it to all animal actions.
I reject the Reflex Theory, on grounds hereafter to be urged,
but at present call attention to the great ambiguity in the terms
" conscious " and " unconscious". In one sense no definition of
Consciousness can be satisfactory, since it designates an ultimate
fact which cannot therefore be made more intelligible than it is
already. In another sense no definition is needed, since every
one knows what is meant by saying, " I am conscious of such a
change, or such a movement". It is here the equivalent of
Feeling. To be conscious of a change, is to feel a change. If
we desire to express it in physiological terms, we must define
Consciousness -"a function of the organism"; and this definition
we shall find eminently useful, because the organism being a vital
158 Consciousness and Unconsciousness.
mechanism and the integrity of that mechanism being necessary for
the integrity of the function, while every variation of the mechan-
ism will bring a corresponding variation of the function, we shall
have an objective guide and standard in our inquiries. Organisms
greatly differ in complexity, yet because they also agree in the
cardinal conditions of Vitality, among which Sensibility is one,
we conclude that they all have Feeling ; but the Feeling of the
one will differ from that of another, according to the complexity
of the sentient mechanism in each. The perfection of this me-
chanism lies in the'co-ordination of its parts, and the consensus
of its sentient activities; any disturbance of that consensus must
cause a modification in the total consciousness ; and when the
disturbance is profound the modification is marked by such
terms as " insanity," " loss of consciousness," " insensibility ".
These terms do not imply that the sentient organs have lost
their Sensibility, but only that the disturbed mechanism has no
longer its normal consensus, no longer its normal state of Con-
sciousness. Each organ is active in its own way so long as its
own mechanism is preserved ; but the united action of the organs
having been disturbed, their resultant function has been altered.
Hence in a fit of Epilepsy there is a complete absence of some
normal reactions, with exaggeration of others. In a state of
Coma there is no spontaneity none of the manifold adaptations
of the organism to fluctuating excitations, external and internal,
observable in the normal state. The organism still manifests
Sensibility but this is so unlike the manifestations when its
mechanism is undisturbed (and necessarily so since the Sensibi-
lity varies with the mechanism) that it is no longer called by
the same name. In the normal organism Sensibility means
Feeling, or Consciousness ; but in the abnormal organism there
is said to be a " loss of Consciousness ". What the physiologist
or the physican means by the phrase " loss of Consciousness " is
intelligible, and for his purpose unobjectionable. He observes
many organic processes going on undisturbed the unconscious
patient breathes, secretes, moves his limbs, &c. These processes
are referred to the parts of the mechanism which are not dis-
turbed ; they are obviously independent of the adjustment of the
mechanism which, by its consensus, has the special resultant
named Consciousness ; he therefore concludes that these, and
many other organic processes, which are neither accompanied
nor followed by discriminated feelings, are the direct conse-
quences of the stimulated mechanism. He never hesitates to
adopt the popular language, and say, " We sometimes act uncon-
sciously, perceive unconsciously, and even think unconsciously,
all by the simple reflex of the mechanism ".
Now observe the opening for error in this language. The -actions
Consciousness and Unconsciousness. 159
are said to go on unconsciously, and, because unconsciously, as
pure reflexes, which are then assigned to an insentient mechanism,
and likened to the actions of machines. But, as I hope here-
after to make evident, the reflex mechanism necessarily involves
Sensibility ; and therefore reflex actions may be unaccompanied by
Consciousness in one meaning of that term without ceasing
to be sentient : the feelings are operative, although not discrimi-
nated. On the other hand, there is another and very general
meaning of the term Consciousness, which is the equivalent of
Sentience.
In discussing Automatism, or the Eeflex Theory, it is abso-
lutely necessary that we should first settle the meaning we assign
to the term Consciousness. The laxity with which the term is
used may be seen in the enumeration occupying six pages of
Professor Bain's account of the various meanings. Psychology
is often said to be " the science of the facts of Consciousness ";
and the Brain is often assigned "as the organ of Conscious-
ness ". Yet there are many mental processes, and many cerebral
processes, which are declared to be unconscious. Obviously if
Consciousness is the function of the Brain, there can be no
cerebral activity which is unconscious ; just as there can be no
activity of the lungs which is not respiratory. Usage therefore
points to a general and a special sense of the term. The general
usage identifies it with Sensibility, in its subjective aspect as
Sentience, including all psychical states, both those classed under
Sensation, and those under Thought. These states are the " facts
of consciousness " with which Psychology is occupied. In the
special usage it is distinguished from all other psychical states
by a peculiar reflected feeling of Attention, whereby we not
only have a sensation, but also feel that we have it ; we not only
think, but are conscious that we are thinking ; not only act, but
are conscious of what we do. It is this which Kant indicates
when he defines it " the subjective form accompanying all our
conceptions (Begriffe) "; and Jessen when he defines it " the
internal knowing of our knowing, and in itself reflected know-
ing ".*
We shall often have to recur to this general and this special
meaning, both of which are too firmly rooted for any successful
attempt to displace them. The fact that some organic processes
and some mental processes take place now consciously and now
unconsciously, i.e., now with the feeling of reflected attention,
* " Das Bewusstwerden 1st nichts Anderes als ein weiter fortgeschrit-
tenes Erinnern oder Neuwerden des von aussen aufgenonimenen Wis-
sens, ein irmerliches Wissen dieses Wissens oder ein in sich reflectirtes
"Wissen." JESSEN : Versuch einer Wissenschafthchen Begriindung der
Psychologic, 1855, p. 477.
160 Consciousness and Unconsciousness.
and now with no such feeling, assuredly demands a correspond-
ing expression ; nor, in spite of inevitable ambiguities, is there
ground for regretting that the expression chosen should be only
an extension of the expression already adopted for all other
states of Sentience. A sentient or conscious state can only be
a state of the sentient organism, itself the unity of many organs,
each having its Sensibility. There is more or less consensus,
but there is no introduction of a new agent within the organism,
connecting what was physical impression into mental reaction.
From first to last there has been nothing but neural processes,
and combinations of such processes which, viewed subjectively,
are sentient processes. Thus the gradations of sensitive reaction
are Sentience, Consentience, and Consciousness, which are repre-
sented in the Logic of Feeling and the Logic of Signs. The
familiar term Conscience will then represent the Logic of Con-
duct. Thus understood, we may say that a man sometimes acts
unconsciously, or thinks unconsciously, although his action and
thought are ruled by Consentience, as he sometimes acts and
thinks unconscientiously, although he is not without obedience
to Conscience on other occasions. The feeling which determines
an action is operative, although it may not be discriminated from
simultaneous feelings. When this is the case, we say the feel-
ing is unconscious ; but this no more means that it is a purely
physical process, that it takes place outside the sphere of Sen-
tience, than the immoral conduct of a man would be said to be
mechanical, and not the conduct of a moral agent. There is
undoubtedly a marked distinction expressed in the terms Con-
sciousness and Unconsciousness, but it is not that of Mental
and Physical, it is that of extremes such as Light and Darkness.
Just as Darkness is a positive optical sensation very different
from mere privation just as it replaces the sensation of Light,
blends with it, struggles with it, and in all respects differs from
the absence of all optical sensibility in the skin ; so Unconscious-
ness struggles with, blends with, and replaces Consciousness in
the organism, and is a positive state of the sentient organism,
not to be confounded with a mere negation of Sentience ; above
all, not to be relegated to merely mechanical processes,
llemember that, strictly speaking, Consciousness is a psycho-
logical not a physiological term, and is only used in Physiology
on the assumption that it is the subjective equivalent of an ob-
jective process. To avoid the equivoque of " unconscious sensa-
tion," we may substitute the term "unconscious neural process";
and as all neural processes imply Sensibility, which in the
subjective aspect is Sentience, we say that Sentience has various
modes and degrees sueh as Perception, Ideation, Emotion,
Volition, which may be conscious, sub-conscious, or unconscious.
Consciousness and Unconsciousness. 161
When Leibnitz referred to the fact of " obscure ideas," . and
modern writers expressed this fact as "unconscious cerebration,"
the one phrase did not imply a process that was other than
mental, the other phrase did not imply a process that was other
than physiological; both indicated a mode of the process known
as Consciousness under other modes. There are different neural
elements grouped in Ideation and Emotion ; there are different
neural elements grouped in Consciousness, Sub-consciousness,
and Unconsciousness; but one tissue with one property is active
in all.
The nervous organism is affected as a whole by every affection
of its constituent parts. Every excitation, instead of terminat-
ing with itself as is the case in most physical processes or
with the motor impulse it excites, is propagated throughout the
continuous tissue, and thus sends a thrill throughout the
organism. The wave of excitation in passing onwards beats
against variously-grouped elements temporary and permanent
centres disturbing their balance more or less, arid liberating
the energy of some, increasing the tension of others, but neces-
sarily affecting all. Those groups which have their energy
liberated set up processes that are either discriminated as
sensations, or are blended with the general stream, according to
their relative energy in the consensus. Thus the impulse on
reaching the centres for the heart, lungs, legs, and tail excites
the innervation of these organs ; but as these are only parts of
the organism, and as all the parts enter the consensus, and
Consciousness is the varying resultant of this ever-varying
consensus, the thrill which any particular stimulus excites will
be unconscious, sub-conscious, or conscious, in proportion to the
extent of the irradiated disturbance, which will depend on the
statical conditions of the centres at the moment. A sound
sends a thrill which excites emotion, causes the heart to beat
faster, the muscles to quiver, the skin-glands to pour forth their
secretion; yet this same sound heard by another man, or the
same man under other conditions, physical or historical, merely
sends a faint thrill, just vivid enough to detach itself as a
sensation from the other simultaneous excitations ; and the
same sound may excite a thrill which is so faint and fugitive
as to pass unconsciously. Physiological and psychological
inductions assure us that these are only differences of degree.
The same physiological effects accompany the conscious and
unconscious state. Every sensory impression, no matter whether
discriminated or not, affects the circulation and develops heat.
The blood-vessels of the part impressed expand, vessels else-
where contract a change in the blood pressure has been effected,
which of course implies that the whole organism has been
162 Consciousness and Unconsciousness.
affected. Delicate instruments prove that at the time a sensa-
tion is produced the temperature of the brain is raised. The
same is true of ideation. Mosso has invented a method of
registering the effect of thought on the circulation. He finds
ideation accompanied by a contraction of the peripheral vessels
proportionate to the degree of intellectual effort. A young man
translating Greek showed greater contraction than when he was
translating Latin. During sound sleep when we are said to
be unconscious sudden noises always cause contraction of the
peripheral vessels. Psychological observation assures us that
the conscious and unconscious states were both consentient,
and were both operative in the same degree. The absorbed
thinker threads his way through crowded .streets, and is sub-
conscious and unconscious of the various sights, sounds, touches,
and muscular movements which make up so large a portion of
his sentient excitation at the time ; yet he deftly avoids obstacles,
hears the sound of a hurried step behind him, recognises an
interesting object directly it presents itself, and can even recall
in Memory many of the uninteresting objects which he passed
in sub-conscious and unconscious indifference.
On all grounds, therefore, we must say that between conscious,
sub-conscious, and unconscious states the difference is only of
degree of complication in the neural processes, which by relative
preponderance in the consensus determine a relative discrimina-
tion. We can only discriminate one thrill at a time ; but the
neural excitations simultaneously pressing towards a discharge
are many ; and the conditions which determine now this, and
now the other excitation to predominate by its differential
pressure, are far beyond any mechanical estimate. I mention
this because the advocates of the Eeflex Theory maintain that
the neural processes are the same whether a sensation be
produced or not; and that since the same actions follow the
external stimulation whether sensation be produced or not, this
proves the actions to be purely mechanical. I reply, the neural
processes are not the same throughout in the two cases other-
wise the effects would be the same. You might as well say,
" Since the explosion of the gun is the same, whether shotted or
not, a blank cartridge will kill " ; but if you tell me that your
gun killed the bird, I declare that the cartridge was not a blank
one. Whether the explosion of the gun also produced terror in
one bystander, curiosity in a second, and attracted no notice
from a third, will be altogether another matter. In like manner
the sensory impression which determines a movement may or
may not be accompanied or followed by other sentient states ;
the fact of such movement is evidence of its sentient antecedent ;
and an external stimulus that will produce this neural process,
Consciousness and Unconsciousness. 163
and this consequent movement, must produce a feeling, although
not necessarily a discriminated sensation. Now since, for dis-
crimination, other neural processes must co-operate, we cannot
say that in the two cases the neural processes have been the
same throughout ; nor because of this difference can we say that
the process of the undiscriminated sensation is a mechanical, not
a sentient process.
The need of recognising Consciousness and Consentience as
degrees of energy and complexity in sentient states is apparent
when we consider animal phenomena. Has a bee consciousness?
Has a snail volition ? or are they both insentient mechanisms ?
All inductions warrant the assertion that a bee has thrills
propagated throughout its organism by the agency of its nerves ;
and that some of these thrills are of the kind called sensations
even discriminated sensations. Nevertheless we may reason-
ably doubt whether the bee has sentient states resembling other-
wise than remotely the sensations, emotions, and thoughts which
constitute human Consciousness, either in the general or the
special sense of that term. The bee feels and reacts on feelings ;
but its feelings cannot closely resemble our own, because the
conditions in the two cases are different. The bee may even be
said to think (in so far as Thought means logical combination of
feelings), for it appears to form Judgments in the sphere of the
Logic of Feeling TO VO^TLKOV ; although incapable of the Logic
of Signs TO ^iavQj]TiKov. We should therefore say the bee has
Consentience, but not Consciousness unless we accept Con-
sciousness in its general signification as the equivalent of
Sentience. The organism of the bee differs from that of a man,
as a mud hut from a marble palace. But since underlying these
differences there are fundamental resemblances, the functions of
the two will be fundamentally alike. Both have the function
of Sentience; as mud hut and palace have both the office of
sheltering.
The question of Volition needs a separate discussion. Re-
stricting ourselves here to that of Consciousness, and recalling
the distinction of the two meanings of the term, we now
approach the question of Unconsciousness. Are we to under-
stand this term as designating a purely physical state in
contrast to the purely mental state of Consciousness ; or only as
designating a difference of degree ? This is like asking whether
Light and parkness are both optical feelings, or one an optical
feeling and the other a physical process ? On the Reflex
Theory, no sooner does a vital and mental process pass from the
daylight of Consciousness, or twilight of Sub-consciousness, into
the darkness of Unconsciousness, than the whole order of
phenomena is abruptly changed, they cease to be vital, mental,
164 Consciousness and UncoTisciousness.
and lapse into physical, mechanical processes. The grounds of
this conclusion are, first, the unpsychological assumption that
the unconscious state is out of the sphere of Sentience ; and
secondly, the unphysiological assumption that the Brain is the
only portion of the nervous system which has the property of
Sensibility. Restate the conclusion in different terms and its
fallacy emerges: "organic processes suddenly cease to be organic,
and become purely physical by a slight change in their relative
position in the consensus; the organic process which was a
conscious sensation a moment ago, when its energy was not
balanced by some other process, suddenly falls from its place in
the group of organic phenomena sentient phenomena to sink
into the group of inorganic phenomena now that its energy is
balanced ". Consider the parallel case of Motion and Best in
the objective sphere. They are two functions of the co-operant
forces, one dynamic, the other static ; although markedly dis-
tinguishable as functions, we know that they are simply the co-
operant forces now unbalanced and now balanced ; what we call
Rest is also a product of moving forces, each of which is operant,
and will issue in a definite resultant when its counter-force is
removed. Motion and Rest are correlatives, and both belong to
the sphere of Kinetics. In like manner Consciousness and
Unconsciousness are correlatives, both belonging to the sphere
of Sentience.* Every one of the unconscious processes is
operant, changes the general state of the organism, and is
capable of at once issuing in a discriminated sensation when the
force which balances it is disturbed. I was unconscious of the
scratch of my pen in writing the last sentence, but I am
distinctly conscious of every scratch in writing this one. Then,
as now, the scratching sound sent a faint thrill through my
organism, but its relative intensity was too faint for discrimina-
tion; now that I have redistributed the co-operant forces, by
what is called an act of Attention, I hear distinctly every sound
the pen produces.
The inclusion of Sub-consciousness within the sentient sphere
is obvious ; the inclusion of Unconsciousness within that sphere
may be made so, when we consider its modes of production, and
compare it with the extra-sensible conception of molecules and
atoms. The Matter which is sensible as masses, may be divided
into molecules, which lie beyond the discrimination of sense ;
and these again into atoms, which are purely ideal conceptions ;
but because molecules are proved, and atoms are supposed, to
* In conmon language a stone or a tree is said to be unconscious; but
this is an anthropomorphic extension of the term. In strictness we
should no more speak of unconsciousness outside the sphere of Sentience
than of darkness outside the sphere of Vision.
Consciousness and Unconsciousness. 165
have material properties, and to conform to sensible canons of
the objective world, we never hesitate to class them under the
head of Matter ; nor do we imagine that in passing beyond the
discrimination of Sense they pass into the subjective region.
They are still physical, not mental facts. So with Sentience.
We may trace it through infinite gradations from Consciousness
to Sub-consciousness, till it fades away in Unconsciousness;
but from first to last the processes have been those of a sen-
tient organism ; and by this are broadly distingushed from
all processes in anorganisms. The movement of a limb has
quite different modes of production from the movement of a
wheel ; and among its modes must be included those of
Sensibility, a peculiarly vital property. Oxidation may be
slow or rapid, manifesting itself as combustion, heat, or flame,
but it is always oxidation always a special chemical pheno-
menon. And so the neural process of Sentience, whether
conscious, sub-conscious, or unconscious, is always a state of the
sentient organism. If a material process does not change its
character, and become spiritual, on passing beyond the range of
sensible appreciation, why should a psychical process become
material on passing beyond the range of discrimination ? If we
admit molecules as physical units, sentient tremors are psychical
units. The extra-sensible molecules have indeed their subjective
aspect, and only enter perception through the " greeting of the
spirit ". The sentient tremors have also their objective aspect,
and cannot come into existence without the neural tremors,
which are their physical conditions.
It is only by holding fast to such a conception that we can
escape the many difficulties and contradictions presented by
unconscious phenomena, and explain many physiological and
psychological processes. Descartes followed by many philo-
sophers identified Consciousness with Thought. To this day
we constantly hear that to have a sensation, and to be conscious
of it, is one and the same state ; which is only admissible on the
understanding that Consciousness means Sentience, and Sentience
the activity of the nervous system viewed subjectively. Leibnitz
pointed out that we have many -psychical states which are
unconscious states to have an idea and be conscious of it,
are, he said, not one but two states. The Consciousness by
Descartes created into an essential condition of Thought, was
by Leibnitz reduced to an accompaniment which not only may
be absent, but in the vast majority of cases is absent. The
teaching of most modern psychologists is that Consciousness
forms but a small item in the total of psychical processes.
Unconscious sensations, ideas, and judgments are made to play
a great part in their explanations. It is very certain that in
166 Consciousness and Unconsciousness.
every conscious volition every act that is so characterised
the larger part of it is quite unconscious. It is equally certain
that in every perception there are unconscious processes of
reproduction and inference there is much that is implicit,
some of which cannot be made explicit a " middle distance "
of sub-consciousness, and a " background " of unconsciousness.
But, throughout, the processes are those of Sentience.
Unconsciousness is by some writers called latent Conscious-
ness. Experiences which are no longer manifested are said to
be stored up in Memory, remaining in the Soul's picture-gallery,
visible directly the shutters are opened. We are not conscious
of these feelings, yet they exist as latent feelings, and become
salient through association. As a metaphorical expression of
the familiar facts of Memory this may pass, but it has been
converted from a metaphor into an hypothesis, and we are
supposed to have feelings and ideas, when in fact we have
nothing more than a modified disposition of the organism -
temporary or permanent which when stimulated will respond
in this modified manner. The modification of the organism
when permanent becomes hereditary ; and its response is then
called an instinctive or automatic action. And as actions pass
by degrees from conscious and voluntary into sub-conscious and
sub-voluntary, and finally into unconscious and involuntary, we
call them volitional, secondarily automatic, and automatic. If
any one likes to say the last are due to latent consciousness, I
shall not object. I only point to the fact that the differences
here specified are simply differences of degree all the actions
are those of the sentient organism.
Picture to yourself this sentient organism incessantly stimu-
lated from without and from within, and adjusting itself in.
response to such stimulations. In the blending of stimulations,
modifying and arresting each other, there is a fluctuating
" composition of forces," with ever- varying resultants. Besides
the stream of direct stimulations, there is a wider stream of
indirect or reproduced stimulations. Together with the present
sensation there is always a more or less complex group of
revived sensations, the one group of neural tremors being
organically stimulated by the other. An isolated excitation
is impossible in a continuous nervous tissue ; an isolated feeling
is impossible in the consensus or unity of the sentient organism.
The term Soul is the personification of this complex of present
and revived feelings, and is the substratum of Consciousness
(in its general sense), all the particular feelings being its states.
To repeat an illustration used in my first volume, we may
compare Consciousness to a mass of stationary waves. If the
surface of a lake be set in motion each wave diffuses itself over
The' Suppression,' of Egoism. 167
the whole surface, and finally reaches the shores, whence it is
reflected back towards the centre of the lake. This reflected
wave is met by the fresh incoming waves, there is a blending
of the waves, and their product is a pattern on the surface.
This pattern of stationary waves is a fluctuating pattern, because
of the incessant arrival of fresh waves, incoming and reflected.
Whenever a fresh stream enters the lake (i.e., a new sensation
is excited from without), its waves will at first pass over the
pattern, neither disturbing it nor being disturbed by it ; but
after reaching the shore the waves will be reflected back towards
the centre, and there will more or less modify the pattern.
GEORGE HEXRY LEWES.
III. THE ' SUPPRESSION ' OF EGOISM*
As Mr. Sidgwick's book on The MctJwds of Ethics seems
thought to have cast some discredit on the system which he
calls 'Egoistic Hedonism,' and which indeed he himself distinctly
claims to have ' suppressed/ I propose in this paper to consider
his treatment and non-treatment of that system.
Of the principle that the Ethical end of Action is Pleasure of
the Actor, there are three distinct and independent proofs, which
I may call respectively the Physical, the Introspective, and
the Intuitional. My aim will be to show that of these Mr.
Sidgwick has omitted the first, has not disproved the second, and
has established the third. If any one of these propositions be
accurate, then, since one proof is sufficient to prove, and truth
is not made doubtful by the possibility of reaching it falsely,
Egoism will be untouched by Mr. Sidgwick's attack. In-
stead of the ' suppressor' of Egoism, I hope to show him
its unwilling prophet. Let me remark at the outset that
it is the Science, not the Art, of Morality that I am con-
cerned with ; the truth of principles, not the method of using
them. If a man can establish a thing to be true, he need not
care for its practical application : that will take care of itself.
* Notwithstanding that so much space has already been given in
MIND to the criticism of Mr. Sidgwick's work, I do not hesitate to print
the following article, written as it is from a fresh point of view. The
interest that continues to be excited by The Met/tods of Ethics, shown
also in the recent appearance of Mr. F. H. Bradley's pamphlet (Mr.
Sidgwick's Hedonism, King & Co.), is a notable fact in English philosophy
at the present dny, and there should remain due record of it in the
pages of this Journal. EDITOB.
168 The l Suppression ' of Egoism.
I. The title of Mr. Sidgwick's book should have been TJie
Introspective Method of Ethics. For starting with the assump-
tion of a Moral Faculty, into the origin of which it refuses to
enquire, the whole book is an elaborate analysis of the dicta of
this ' Faculty'. There is therefore but a single method ex-
amined, the Introspective ; and the various so called ' methods'
are distinguished by the different axioms or principles which
Reason dictates, and not by the method of arriving at them
which is throughout the same, viz., self-interrogation. They
are in fact not different ' Methods of Ethics' but different results
of the same method.
Of course an author is perfectly justified in confining himself
to any branch of a subject which he may select, and so impartial
and thorough an investigation of any single method as that
which Mr. Sidgwick has given to the Intuitive method of Ethics
cannot fail to be of great value, if the only result were to bring
into clear relief the divergent results to which such method
leads and its consequent uselessness for scientific purposes.
But it is hardly fair to take arbitrarily a single method, and
treat it as the only one possible, or even as the only one worthy
of a particular name. A man who wrote a treatise on c The
Methods of Acoustics' and confined himself to an examination
of the various opinions as to the nature of sound held by
persons with ' a good ear,' and refused all enquiry into its
physical properties, and all aid from any sense except that of
hearing only, as foreign to his subject and of no practical import,
might compose a very instructive and valuable work, but would
hardly be thought to have exhausted the possibilities of a
Science of Sound. Yet he would be clearly more justified by
at least the etymological meaning of words in saying that
Acoustics has to do with the sense of hearing only, than Mr.
Sidgwick has in saying that Ethics has to do only with the Moral
Faculty. Mr. Sidgwick says (p. vi.) that " the investigation of
the historical antecedents of this cognition, and of its relation to
other elements of the mind, no more properly belongs to Ethics
than the corresponding questions as to the cognition of Space
belong to Geometry". But in the first place, Geometry does not
assume a Spatial Faculty and proceed simply to interrogate
that and chronicle the results ; it measures one sense against
another and so arrives at what we call 'objective' or what is in
fact consistent truth. And secondly, if Geometry assumes the
fundamental properties of space as axioms or postulates, that is
because there is no dispute about them ; they are indisputably
or at least undisputedly valid, and that is sufficient. But in
Ethics it is as to the axioms that the great dispute arises, their
application being scientifically of minor importance. And to
The ' Suppression ' o f Ego ism. 169
say that the latter only is the proper province of Ethics, is
clearly opposed to the ordinary use of the word, and as clearly
opposed to Mr. Sidgwick' s understanding of it, seeing that he
defines it as " the study of what ought to be done" (p. 4) and
that his whole book is a consideration of the relative value of
first principles and not only of their application to practice.
But Mr. Sidgwick may say : ' I do not object to your discussing
principles as much as you like, so long as you keep to the
Moral Faculty, but if you go behind that you get out of Ethics'.
To this I answer : In the first place, I doubt the validity of your
Moral Faculty, and in order to determine that I must compare
it with my other faculties. No doubt, as you say (p. 4) " if we
were only agreed as to what we ought to do, the question ' How
we come to know it' would be one of quite subordinate interest";
but we are not agreed, and the question therefore becomes
vital. But in the second place, suppose this moral faculty to
be valid, why should Ethics be confined to it alone, any more
than Acoustics is confined to the faculty of hearing ? There
can be no science which is confined to one sense, because there
can thus be no objectivity. From hearing alone how can we
know that sound means the same, that is, stands in the same
relation, to all men ? Similarly from the moral faculty alone
how can you distinguish " between what men think to be their
duty and what really is such" ? If the moral faculty be ultimate,
what is a man's duty is what the moral faculty says, i.e., to each
man is what he thinks his duty. So we get to the old sophistic
doctrine of individualism, which is plainly exclusive not only of
a science of Ethics but of all ethical reasoning. If on the con-
trary it be assumed as it is by Mr. Sidgwick (p. 6), that there
is an objective good, and that this can be knovtoi, interrogation
of the moral faculty can clearly not yield it, and therefore the
insufficiency of the Introspective Method is assumed in all
moral reasoning. To say that men know * objective' good, but
can give no reason for it or explanation of it, is really to say
that good is in the knowledge of it, or in other words is sub-
jective only.
I may here make a remark, the importance of which will be
seen hereafter, that there may be an objective good which is
still relative to the individual, if it bear the same relation to all
individuals : for instance, it may be Pleasure, which though
relative to the organism is in a universal relation, and therefore
satisfies the conditions of Science. Mr. Sidgwick is not accurate
here. He says (p. 6) : " If it be maintained that two men may
act in two different ways under circumstances precisely similar,
and yet neither be wrong because each thinks himself right :
then the common notion of morality must be rejected as a
170 TJie ' Suppression ' of Eyoism.
chimera. That there is in any given circumstances some one
thing which ought to be done and that this can be known, is a
fundamental assumption." Now if under ' circumstances' he
includes internal circumstances such as character and belief, his
hypothesis is self-contradictory, because different beliefs as to
what is right are different circumstances : if not, the conclusion
is false ; for common morality says that a man ought to act
not only according to his beliefs but according to the whole of
his nature, and that what is right for one man may be wrong
for another. The only fundamental assumption either neces-
sary for a Science of Ethics or warranted by common notions is
that morality conforms to the general law of uniformity, i.e., that
in the same circumstances, external and internal, the same thing-
is morally good : " ofjioiwv <yap ovrcov KCU TT/SO? aXA/?;Xa TOV avrov
rpoTrov e^ovrwv rov re TTO^TLKOV KOI rov TraOrrriKov, ravro
7re<f>vice ylveaOat, ". If this be so, then in any given circum-
stances " there is some one thing which ought to be done" ; one,
not in the sense that it is the same for each man, but that it has
the same relation to each man, and therefore is capable of being
known in the case of each man by all men.
But there is another reason why Mr. Sidgwick objects to
going outside the moral faculty and explaining its derivation,
namely, that " this would require us to prefer the coarsest and
lowest of our pleasures to those that are more elevated and
refined : which no one would maintain to be reasonable "
(p. 42). And again (p. 186) " Why should our earliest beliefs
and perceptions be more trustworthy than our latest, supposing
the two to differ 1 The truths of the higher mathematics aie
among our most secure intellectual possessions, yet the power of
apprehending these is rarely developed until the mind has
reached maturity." Now, inasmuch as Mr. Sidgwick has
defined ' Eeason ' as the faculty which prescribes moral rules, it
is a clear fallacy to argue in favour of these rules that they are
more ' reasonable' than others. But apart from this, Mr.
Sidgwick should not forget that a thing may be fyvaei irporepov,
but varepov rj^lv. He would surely not argue against the
Cosmogony of Laplace, that it is ' unreasonable ' and retro-
gressive, because it goes back to the ' mean and beggarly
elements ' of nature. Surely this is the very law and order of
knowledge, to return on nature's tracks, so that the farther back
it can get the more perfect it is ; and the truths of Mathematics
are secure for this very reason that they go back the farthest of
all. This is just what we wish to do with the Moral Faculty,
to carry it farther back into its elements and thus rest it on a
secure foundation. No one says that it is ' unreal ' or ' vanishes'
because it is found to be compound ; on the contrary its exist-
The ( Suppression ' of Egoism. 171
ence is more real because more known. No one wishes to
substitute the elemental pleasures for the compound, the earliest
beliefs for the latest, but to know or render self-conscious the
evolution of one from the other, and thus to understand our
present nature. A belief cannot be more valid than its data,
and therefore if we discover the origin of our present beliefs we
shall have at any rate a maximum measure of their validity.
In an article in MIND No. I., Mr. Sidgwick seems to have
intended to collect more systematically than he has done in his
book his reasons for excluding the history of the Moral Faculty
from the province of Ethics. He there repeats the arguments
which I have already noticed, with others which I may briefly
summarise as follows. ' True it is that Evolution is progress, and
that Morality aims at progress ; but how do you know that the
two kinds of progress are identical ? How do you connect ' is '
with 'ought to be,' ' being ' with 'well-being'?' To answer this
thoroughly would be to expound the Physical System of Ethics,
which I have tried to do elsewhere, but which it is not now my
business to attempt : suffice it for the present purpose to give
the answer which Mr. Sidgwick himself suggests that the con-
necting link is ' happiness ' or ' pleasure '. ' But if this be so '
says Mr. Sidgwick, ' it is easier to aim at this directly than
through development. No two even of your experts are agreed
as to where the latter is going, so that it is a very useless mark
to aim at.' To this I answer: At any rate it takes nothing
away ; you have the old mark of pleasure left, and you are no
worse off than before ; besides, if it is true, I do not care to ask
whether it is useful or not. But I answer chiefly that develop-
ment is not the mark which the scientific system of Ethics sets
up. In showing you the development of the organised search for
pleasure it does not bid you aim at development as such, but
shows you why you ought to aim at pleasure, by proving that
you do so aim and that ' ought to ' is compounded out of ' is '.
' But if you mean,' says Mr. Sidgwick, ' that evolution recon-
ciles the Instinctive and Utilitarian Morality, it can only do so
on a broad general gromnd, and inasmuch as their mutual agree-
ment in the main is self-evident, to show the reason of it is
ethically superfluous whatever historical interest it may have.'
To this I answer as before that nothing is scientifically ' super-
fluous ' that is true ; and that the whole interest of physical
science is in this sense ' historical/ for its aim is a conscious
retracing of the unconscious evolution of the universe. But to
give a less general answer : Would Mr. Sidgwick say that the
nebular hypothesis, supposing it to be true, is ' astronomi-
cally superfluous,' or that the laws of the formation of clouds
have only an ' historical interest' to Meteorology ? Or, to take
172 The ' Suppression ' of Egoism.
another instance, would a knowledge of the creation of mankind
by God have no bearing on its relations to him when once
created ? And has legal history no jural value ?
In another paper in MIND No. V., Mr. Sidgwick appears as
the champion of Hedonism against a supposed assault from the
side of Physical Science, but his arguments go only to establish
against a mere external .standard the necessity of a Hedonistic
criterion, and do not at all effect my position that Science proves
Hedonism, but proves it in the Eg )istic form.
Finally, I would remark that, supposing Mr. Sidgwick's
objections well founded, as I contend they are not, they furnish
no answer to the proposition which I am here concerned to
establish, viz., that the Physical or Scientific proof of Egoistic
Hedonism is nowhere examined, much less disproved, by Mr.
Sidgwick : for they are all not arguments against it but reasons
for its non-examination. This fact is not only a sufficient pro-
visional defence of Egoism, but marks a defect in the plan of
Mr. Sidgwick's book, if while professing to examine scientific
methods of Ethics he really excludes the only method which is
scientific at all. To talk of a ' science ' which " lies outside of
all investigation of the actual" (p. 2) may be called a mere
' verbal ' error, but only in the sense that all misstatements,
being made in words, are verbal mistakes. The object of true
or what Mr. Sidgwick calls " speculative " science is by com-
paring the data of different senses and so correcting their de-
ficiencies to arrive at ' objective ' truth ; and just as Physical
Optics or Acoustics takes light or sound and resolves them into
the simpler elements of vibration, so Physical Ethics resolves
Good into its constituent elements. It explains the Moral
Faculty and its judgments of ' right ' and ' good ' as the physical
result of Evolution, which objectively is perfection, subjectively
is pleasure-attaining, and self-consciously is pleasure-seeking ;
and thus it connects the sphere of morality with the physical
universe, gives a new meaning to the ethical dogma ' Follow
nature,'* and constitutes a true Science of Ethics. Of this
*At p. 356, Mr. Sidgwick says that this maxim involves a vicious
circle. How so ? Even to the Stoics it meant ' Consciously imitate the
unconscious striving of nature' ; to us it means * Be a self-conscious
agent in the evolution of the universe'. In another place (p. 63) he
seems to think that ' Follow nature ' means ' Go in the opposite direction to
nature,' ' C/ndevelope yourself '. Conformity to nature means conformity
to its dynamical laws of Evolution, and to its statical laws of Physics.
The former involves action, the latter knowledge; there is no real
ambiguity in either precept. I may notice that the Physical System of
Ethics reconciles Stoicism and Epicureanism by showing them to be the
inuer and outer expressions of the same law; the Stoic giving the
Physical element, the Epicurean the Ethical.
The ' Suppression ' of Egoism. 173
' Method of Ethics ' Mr. Sidgwick gives no account : he hardly
even says of it that it does not exist.
II. I said that Mr. Sidgwick's book should be called ' The
Introspective Method of Ethics ' : I had almost said ' Intui-
tional '. For it is . not even to the whole facts of our inner
consciousness but to the single consciousness of Duty that his
method is chiefly directed ; not to what actually are our
motives, but to what we think they ought to be. The larger
Introspective Method he does indeed hint at in a single short
chapter (Book I., ch. iv.) but only to put it aside ; and the
remainder of the book is devoted to ' Reason '. His position in
that chapter I take to be this : Admitting that if pleasure could
be proved to be the universal motive this would be binding on
Reason, necessity being evidently comprehensive of duty, he
argues that such proof is imperfect, and the mere generality of
motive which it establishes is not sufficient to displace or sub-
ordinate the motive which he assumes, viz., the " desire to do
what Reason dictates". To arrive at this position he has to
refute what I have called the Introspective proof of Hedonism,
mz. t that self-examination shows us that pleasures and pains
are as a matter of fact the only motives to voluntary action, and
act in proportion to their intensity. Let us examine his argu-
ments. The first (p. 31) is as follows : " It is a matter of common
experience that the resultant or prevailing desire in men is often
directed towards what (even in the moment of yielding to the
desire) they think likely to cause them more pain than pleasure
on the whole. ' Video meliora proboque, Deteriora sequor.' "
In other words Action does not always follow Knowledge. Of
course not ; but the doctrine does not require that it should, for
it says, not that we follow what is our greatest possible pleasure
or what we know or ' think ' to be so, but what at the moment
of action is most desired. In fact the only practical measure of
pleasures as motives at any moment, is in ourselves the result-
ant desire, in others the resultant action. But it may be
objected that to say that ' the pleasure which under any given
circumstance is the greatest moves,' and when asked for a
measure to say 'the pleasure which moves is under those circum-
stances the greatest ', is to argue in a circle. It is no more a
circle than to measure weights by their effect on the scales, or
temperatures by the position of the mercury in a thermometer.
The argument is at bottom this : I know pleasure to be a
motive, and I know no other ; I reasonably assume (having no
evidence to the contrary) that motives follow laws analogous to
those of other forces, or, in other words, the law of causation
(this is what Mr. Sidgwick really asserts under the ' objectivity'
of good) : therefore, just as, when two forces acting on a body in
12
174 The ' Suppression ' of Egoism.
opposite directions result in movement in one of these direc-
tions, we say that under those conditions the conquering force
was the greatest, so, when desire or action follows one .motive
rather than its opposite, we define the motive force of the first
under those conditions to be greater than that of the latter. In
eaclf of iTTese cases the absolute relation (if I may use~such an
expression) between the forces or motives may be very different
from their relation under the given conditions : for in order to
measure their absolute values the special conditions must be
eliminated. The ' condition ' which is most important is that of
position : in the case of mechanical forces, position in space ;
in the case of motives, position in time.* When I raise my
hand, I know that my muscular force is not absolutely greater
than the earth's attraction but only in that relative position.
Similarly when I act to secure a ' nearer good,' I may know
quite well that it is ' less valuable ' according to an absolute
standard. For the idea of a distant pleasure is far weaker than
that of an immediate one, but in theory this ' discount ' is not
considered, for theory ideally simplifies by eliminating the element
of time altogether, just as Algebra eliminates space from
Geometry. What is best in theory is what would have been
best in the end, but what moves is the resultant of the projec-
tions of pleasures on the plane of the present. Action looks at
life as we look at a landscape, knowledge maps it out to scale as
on a chart. This divergence is gradually remedied by habitually
acting on principle, and so making allowance for distance
automatically, as we do in the eye : but this takes time, " Bel
yap avfjifyvvai, TOVTU> Se ^povov Set" and in human beings is at
present very imperfect. To suppose that action could exactly
follow theoretic knowledge is to suppose a being in whom ideas
should be equally vivid however distant the anticipations, in
other words, should be equivalent to sensations ; to whom there-
fore there should be no distinction of present and future, fact
and knowledge, object and subject. But this is clearly not the
case with man, so that to him knowledge which compares between
ideas only, and ideas at equal distances, is necessarily at variance
\vith action, which has to do with both ideas and sensations,
and where perspective is everything.
But it may be answered that it is possible to act not only
against theoretical knowledge, which is what Mr. Sidgwick seems
to mean (cf. note to p. 112) but against practical knowledge, i.e.,
* We may perhaps conjecture that, as Time is extension in one dimen-
sion only, the law of motive force corresponding to the law of gravitation
in space will be found to involve a function of the simple inverse of the
distance in time of the origin of the force instead of the inverse square :
probably also a constant determined in the case of each individual by a
' personal equation '.
The ' Suppression ' of Egoism. 175
not only against experience that certain actions bring the moxt
pleasure, but even against experience that they are the most
pleasant at the time. This is explained by another ' condition '
of action which I have incidentally mentioned above, but which
has a wider operation than what I may call ' the Temporal law
of Motive/ viz., imperfection of machinery. If a man acted up
to his knowledge, whatever that might be, he would be qiia
practice, i.e., as a practical machine, perfect. But as a matter of
fact not only is knowledge expressed imperfectly, but not un-
frequently some knowledge does not emerge in action at all,
forms no constituent of the resulting act. A new line of com-
munication cannot enter into competition with one well used,
for the tissues acquire ' habits ' which take long to modify. In
other words, habit controls the practical effect of knowledge.
A man may either choose the wrong rule, the lower instead of
the higher, or (what comes to the same thing) he may not
perceive that the particular circumstance comes under its proper
rule ; or, as Aristotle says, the practical syllogism, which is the
expression of knowledge in action, may be vitiated either by
choosing the wrong major premiss or by the imperfect appre-
hension of the minor. In such cases therefore the effective
knowledge is what Plato calls in the Protagoras " a kind of
ignorance," i.e., as compared with the higher knowledge which
the man in a way has and has not : it is a less complete calcula-
tion of pleasure, a lower organisation of motive. But the
difference is only in the completeness of the calculation, the
nature of it is the same ; and the fact of such difference means
only that the machine is not perfect.
These considerations seem to me to dispose of Mr. Sidgwick's
objection that action does not follow knowledge, whether by
knowledge be meant ideal comparison of pleasures or belief as to
the actual pleasantness of particular actions ; and tc show that,
though desire may not be directed to the greatest pleasure within
our reach or even to what we c think ' such, this does not
involve (as Mr. Sidgwick thinks it does) the abandonment of
the strict proportionality between pleasure and desire, any more
than the fact that two equal weights at opposite ends of a stiffly
working lever with unequal arms do not balance one another,
disproves the strict proportionality between weight and active-
force. But the Introspective proof as I have stated it, involves
the fact that we have no other motive than pleasure. Mr. Mill
tl links this is so obvious as to be beyond dispute, but Mr.
Sidgwick argues that this is due to a confusion between pleasure
as " signifying the mere fact of preference " and pleasure as an
" agreeable sensation" the former being identical with motive
and the latter being the rj&ovrj of Hedonism. Now it is curious
176 The ' Suppression ' of Egoism.
that, when Mr. Sidgwick comes later on (p. 114) to discuss
Hedonism and give " a more precise notion of pleasure," he says
that " it seems obvious to define it as the kind of feeling which
pleases us, which we like or prefer," and eventually concludes
that " we must define pleasure, if we are to estimate it exactly,
not as the kind of feeling which we actually seek and pursue,
but as that which we judge to be preferable ". * There-
fore the distinction which he makes seems to be between what
is actually preferred and what is judged to be preferable, and
the argument is that the two do not agree, which resolves itself
into that already considered, that practice is often at variance
with knowledge. Apart from this argument, it is Mr. Sidg-
wick's own definition of the ' pleasure ' of Hedonism that it is
" the kind of feeling which we prefer," or, even more definitely,
" which prompts us to actions tending to produce or sustain it " :
so that, even if our refutation of this argument is invalid, the
only change which he would make in the 'tautological assertion'
is that instead of ' we desire a thing in proportion as it appears
pleasant,' he would say ' we ought to desire a thing in proportion
as we know it to be pleasant * : he only prefers the Intuitive
proof to the Introspective.
Mr. Sidgwick's remaining arguments are all intended to show
that our active impulses are not always " consciously directed
towards the attainment of agreeable sensations as their end".
As this is not the doctrine of Physical Hedonism I shall
pass over these arguments shortly. Nobody denies that there are
' extra-regarding impulses ' in this sense that desire of an end
may become desire of means, so that it may seem to aim at
means for their own sake. This is the case with appetites, as
when a man takes a walk to ' get an appetite,' or pursuits such
as fox-hunting ; and it may often be true that a man is most
likely to attain the end if he aim only at the means and forget
the end. The extent to which this losing of end in means may
be carried is illustrated in Benevolence, which " even though it
may owe its origin to a purely egoistic impulse, is still essentially
a desire to do good to others for their sake, and not for our
own " : in other words, I may find pleasure in doing good to
others for their sake, and not for my own. We might go even
further and say: I may cut my finger because it gives me
pleasure to give myself pain. All this is part of Hedonism,
which asserts that original impulses were all directed towards
pleasure, and that any impulses otherwise directed are derived
from these by ' association of ideas '. But Mr. Sidgwick say*
(p. 41) that observation is against this, "as preponderant
* Of. p. 372, where he defines pleasure as " Preferable or Desirable
Feeling of whatever kind".
The ' Suppression ' of Egoism. 177
objectivity seems characteristic of the earlier stages of our
consciousness, and the subjective attitude does not become
habitual till later in life ". I answer that the earliest stage of
our consciousness is before the separation of object and subject,
and that the earliest motive and that which Hedonism asserts
to be fundamental is ' a pleasure,' not either a 'pleasant object'
or a ' pleased subject '. The first object of desire, a pleasant
state, becomes afterwards thought of as a union of subject and
object, and the desire may be transferred to either factor by
association. When we reflect, we say, ' /desire an apple' : but the
desire is for the union of object and subject, that the apple
should become I. Hedonism would be true though the ideas of
object and subject did not exist, and though no one had ever
formed the idea of ' self ' at all.
Mr. Sidgwick concludes with the argument that at any rate
" all men do not now desire pleasure, but rather other things ".
I answer : That is exactly what you have to prove, and what is
not proved by showing that means may be substituted for ends.
For this does not make men desire "other things-" than pleasure,
but only makes them desire one pleasure instead of another, or
(as it may be put otherwise) call an old pleasure by a new
name.
In a subsequent chapter (at p. 115) Mr. Sidgwick asks the
following question: How is non-hedonistic preference (which
is commonly thought to be of frequent occurrence) possible,
unless there is something preferable (i.e., which can be preferred)
besides pleasure, and if there is some such thing, what is it ?
The answer comes to this, that it must lie in the circumstances
under which the state of consciousness arises, or the objective
relations of the sentient individual. " For," he says, " if we se-
parate in thought any state of consciousness from all its objective
circumstances and conditions (and also from all its effects on the
consciousness of the same individual or of others) and contem-
plate it merely as the transient feeling of a single subject; it seems
impossible to find in it any other preferable quality than that
which we call its pleasantness, as to which the judgment of the
sentient individual must be taken as finally valid." This seems
to me practically to yield the point at issue, if we remember
that to the sentient individual the objective circumstances and
conditions and also the effects of one of his conscious states are only
modifications of that or some other of his conscious states, so
that to him the only thing which is preferable, i.e., which he can
prefer, is a pleasant state, or that which produces a pleasant
state. Consequences come in (and this is the explanation of
preferring a ' higher ' or more ' refined ' to an immediately
greater pleasure) ; but to each individual it is the consequences
178 The ' Suppression ' of Egoism.
to himself alone and in judging of them pleasure is the only
ground of preference. That this is true Mr. Sidgwick seems
really to admit : for he says (p. 371) : " If I have any intuition at
all respecting the ultimate ends of action, it seems to me that I
can see this : that these objective relations of the conscious
subject, when distinguished in reflective analysis from the
consciousness accompanying and resulting from them, are not
ultimately and intrinsically desirable : any more than material
or other objects are, when considered out of relation to conscious
existence altogether ". If then nothing but conscious states of
the conscious subject is ' ultimately desirable/ and the only
' preferable quality ' in these is " that which we call pleasant-
ness, as to which the judgment of the individual must be taken
to be finally valid," this is at least Intuitive Egoism. I say at
least because I am not sure whether Mr. Sidgwick here means
by ' desirable ' what he must have meant in the former passage,
' capable of being desired', or rather, ' which ought to be
desired '. If he means the latter, I go on to say that conscious
states alone are rationally desirable for this reason, that nothing
else is or can be actually desired, seeing that a thing is to us its
relations to us, or in other words, the states of consciousness
which 'it produces' in us; so that any existence it may have
in itself is at least indifferent to us, and incapable of exciting
desire or preference. If this be true, the Introspective proof of
Egoistic Hedonism is complete.
III. Having omitted the Physical and negatived the Intro-
spective method, Mr. Sidgwick proceeds at once to the Intuitive.
" To ascertain what Eeason dictates " is, he says, " the aim of all
ethical discussion." Of course it dictates all kinds of tilings ;
but on the whole Mr. Sidgwick gathers that Eational ends (for
it is ends, not methods, which he uses as divisions) " are limited
in number" and " seem to be" Perfection and Happiness, either
individual or universal, and Eightness or Goodness for its own
sake. These ends or methods he proceeds to consider seriatim.
First he deals with Egoistic Hedonism. As to its fundamental
principle he says that there seems to be more general agreement
among reflective persons as to its reasonableness than for any
other, such reasonableness being admitted by Utilitarian and
Intuitionist alike : and that " the onus prolandi lies with those
who maintain that disinterested conduct as such is reasonable "
(p. 108). Then follows an examination of its different
methods of application, or of what Plato calls the fjbeTprjTifcrj
rexyT), such as the empirical comparison of pleasures, common
sense judgments, notions of duty, divine law, natural impulses,
self-development. All of these are found to lead back to the first,
and that seems unworkable. These objections as to impracti-
The 'Suppression' of Egoism. 179
cability do not seem, however, to be thought much of by Mr.
Si do- wick, as he eventually adopts a system to which they apply
with far greater force. At any rate they do not touch the truth
of the principle, with which we are here concerned ; nor, so far
as I can see, its ' reasonableness ' in the sense in which Mr. Sidg-
wick uses the word Reason, viz., as "the faculty of apprehending
universal truth ". Egoism is made to seem unreasonable only
by a confusion with the other sense of ' reason/ as reasoning,
which seeks means to an end. For of course in that sense
Egoism would be unreasonable if there were no means to it.
But Mr. Sidgwick's Reason seems so called on this very account,
because it makes affirmations for which no reason can be given.
The result is that Reason says that Egoism is primd facie
proved. If Mr. Sidgwick, notwithstanding, feels " aversion " to
it, and regards it as " ignoble " and " despicable," he should
remember that there is at least nothing noble in an unreasoning
aversion.
Next we proceed to Intuitionism, which takes three forms,
according as it is held to give particular judgments, general
axioms, or a philosophic basis. The last, though nominally a
sub-class, seems to include all ' methods of Ethics ' recognised
by Mr. Sidgwick not included in the two former : so that when
the two former are disposed of as not capable of supplying
measures sufficiently precise to be elevated into scientific
axioms, the chapter on ' Philosophical Intuitionism ' is really
an enquiry whether our Moral Faculty can supply any ethical
axioms (besides that of Egoism) which have at once scientific
precision and positive content. Mr. Sidgwick believes that it
can supply two such, and that one of these involves " the
suppression of Egoism ". He takes them from Clarke, and calls
them respectively the Rule of Equity and the Rule of Benevo-
lence.
The first is as follows : " Whatever I judge reasonable or
unreasonable that another should do for me, that by the same
judgment I declare reasonable or unreasonable that I should in
the like case do for him" (p. 358). This is the principle of the
" objectivity " (as Mr. Sidgwick calls it) of rightness. I have
already tried to show that it is either an assertion that morality
follows the physical law of uniformity (i.e., that mere difference
of individuality in moral agents, as in atoms, does not effect the
result, which is precisely similar under all similar conditions)
in which sense I gladly accept it as a testimony from conscious-
ness to the possibility of a Physical science of Ethics; or if "the
like case " does not include the like internal natures of agent
and recipient, that it is not only no axiom but plainly repugnant
180 The ' Suppression ' of Egoism.
to common sense. Mr. Sidgwick, if I understand him rightly,*
takes it in the latter sense, and yet holds it an axiom. Let me
put to him an illustration. He says that it is a duty to seek
one's own happiness (p. 304). But to determine what is a man's
happiness, you have to look at his character and disposition,
just as a meal fit for Milo is too large for an ordinary man.
How, then, can duty be independent of the character of the
agent ? Or to take the converse, on what principle is it allowable
(as Mr. Sidgwick says it is) to tell a He to a lunatic ?
The second rule, which as the supposed suppressor of Egoism
I approach with more awe, is stated by Clarke as follows (p. 3o9) :
" If there be a natural and necessary difference between Good
and Evil ; and that which is Good is fit and reasonable, and that
which is Evil is unreasonable, to be done : and that which is the
Greatest Good is always the most fit and reasonable to be
chosen : then as the Goodness of God extends itself universally
over all His works throughout the whole creation, by doing
always what is absolutely best in the whole : so every rational
creature ought, in its sphere and station, according to its res-
pective powers and faculties, to do all the Good it can to its
fellow-creatures : to which end, universal Love and Benevolence
is plainly the most certain, direct, and effectual means." The
premisses here seem three : (1) It is reasonable to do the greatest
good ; (2) There is a God, and His goodness is the greatest ; (3)
The goodness of God can be known apart from ours, and
comprises Benevolence to all His works. The second and third
would hardly now-a-days be accepted as self-evident truths.
Even if modified as far as possible to suit modern ' com-
mon sense,' they would at least involve the very contro-
verted hypothesis of a moral government of t 
