Mind

BINDING LIST NO V 1 5 1922

,

MIND

A QUARTERLY REVIEW

OF

PSYCHOLOGY AND PHILOSOPHY.

ABERDEEN: THE UNIVERSITY PRESS

MIND

A QUARTERLY REVIEW

OF

PSYCHOLOGY AND PHILOSOPHY.

EDITED BY

G. E. MOORE,

WITH THE CO-OPERATION OF PROFESSOR PR1NGLE-PATTISON, PROFESSOR
C. D. BROAD, AND F. C. BARTLETT, M.A.

NEW SERIES.

VOL. XXXI.-I922.

LONDON:

MACMILLAN & CO., LIMITED,

ST. MARTIN'S STREET, W.C.

1922.

CONTENTS OF VOLUME XXXI.

(NEW SERIES.)
ARTICLES.

PAGE

AVELING, F. — Is the Conception of the Unconscious of Value in Psycho-
logy? (Symposium] 423

CARE, H. WILDON. — Einstein's Theory and Philosophy .... 169
V^COLLINGWOOD, B. G. — Are History and Science different kinds of Know- s"

ledge? (Symposium) 443

EDGEWORTH, F. Y. — The Philosophy of Chance 257

FAWCETT, D. — Imaginism and the World-Process 154

FIELD, G. C. — The Psychological Accompaniments of Instinctive Action 129
„ „ — Is the Conception of the Unconscious of Value in Psycho-
logy? (Symposium) 413

GREGORY, J. C. — Visual Images, Words, and Dreams .... 321
HICKS, G. DAWES. — The Philosophical Researches of Meinoug (I.) - - 1-
LAIRD, J. — Is the Conception of the Unconscious of Value in Psycho-
logy? (Symposium) 433

LUTOSLAWSKI, W. — A Theory of Personality 53

RANDLE, H. N. — Sense-data and Sensible Appearances in Size-Distance

Perception - 284

• SCHILLER, F. C. S. — An Idealist in Extremis - - ... 144
^ ,, ,, — Are History and Science different kinds of Know-
ledge ? (Symposium) - 459

SELLARS, R. WOOD. — Concerning " Transcendence " and " Bifurcation " 31

STOUT, G. F.— Prof. Alexander's Theory of Sense Perception - - - 385

j^ STRONG, C. A.— Mr. Russell's Theory of the External World 307
^/TAYLOR, A. E. — Are History and Science different kinds of Knowledge ?

(Symposium) 451

TEMPLE, W., Bishop of Manchester. — Symbolism as a Metaphysical

Principle 467

TURNER, J. E.— Dr. Wildon Carr and Lord Haldane on Scientific

Relativity 40

DISCUSSIONS.

V^ AINSCOUGH, R. — Some Remarks on Relativity 489

BOSANQUET, B.—" This or Nothing " 178

„ —A Word about Coherence - 335

s GREENWOOD, T. — Einstein and Idealism - - 205

HIGHT, G. A.— Plato and the Poets - - - - 195

MACKENZIE, J. S. — Universal s and Orders 189

RUSSELL, B. — Physics and Perception - - .... 473

SCHILLER, F. C. S.— The Meaning of " Self " 185

VI CONTENTS.

PAGE

STRONG, C. A. — The Meaning of " Meaning " 69

x „ „ —Rejoinder 486

/ TURNER, J. E. — Relativity, Scientific and Philosophical - - - 337
/ WRINCH, D. — On certain Methodological Aspects of the Theory of

Relativity 200

CRITICAL NOTICES.

JOHNSON, W. E.— Logic : Part II. (C. D. Broad) 496

JONES, Sir H.— A Faith that Enquires (J. S. Mackenzie) - - - 343

KEYNES, J. M. — A Treatise on Probability (C. D. Broad) ... 72

MEYERSON, E. — De V Explication dans les Sciences (L. Russell) - - 510

RUSSELL, B. — The Analysis of Mind (A. Dorward) 85

NEW BOOKS.

ALEXANDER, S. — Spinoza and Time (H. F. Hallett) .... 221

Aristotelian Society, Proceedings of the, 1920-21 (H. Barker) - - - 223

BAILLIE, J. B. — Studies in Human Nature (L. Russell) - ... 98
BENGOECHEA, J. Z. — Contribucion del Lenguaje a la Filosofia de ios

Valores (F. C. S. Schiller) 239

BEVAN, E. — Hellenism and Christianity (A. E. Taylor) .... 352

BLONDEL, M.— L'Azione (H. Wildon Carr) 239

BOAS, G.—An Analysis of Certain Theories of Truth (F. C. S. Schiller) 362
BOURGUES, L., and A. DENEREAZ. — La Musique et la Vie Interieure

(H. J. Watt) 237

BRETT, G. &.—A History of Psychology, Vols. II. and III. (J. L. M.) - 525
BRIFFAULT, R.—The Making of Humanity (C. C. J. W.) - - 225
BROWN, W., and G. H. THOMSON. — The Essentials of Mental Measure-
ment (C. W. Valentine) 236

CARLINI, A.~La Vita dello Spirito (H. Wildon Carr) 239
GLAPAREDK, E. — Psychologic de V Enfant et Pedagogic Experimental

(F. G. B.) - - 109
COHEN, H. — Die Religion der Vernunft aus denQuellen des Judenthums

(H. R. Mackintosh) 227

DECOSTER, P.— Le Regne de la Pensee (L. Russell) .... 366
DENEREA-Z, A., and L. BOURGUES. — La Musique et la Vie Interieure

(H. J. Watt) 237

FIELD, G. C.— Moral Theory (J. Laird) 217

FLUGEL, J. G.—The Psycho-analytical Study of the Family ( W. Whately

Smith) 370

GALLI, E. — Alle Radici della Morale (B. Bosanquet) .... 220
„ ,,—Nel Dominio dell' "lo " ( „,)--- - 220
J} ,,—Nel Mondo dello Spirito ( ,, ) 220
GARNETT, J. C. M. — Education and World Citizenship (C. W. Valen-
tine) 210
GINSBERG, M.— The Psychology of Society (G. C. Field) 368
HEATH, A. G.— The Moral and Social Significance of the Conception of

Personality (R. F. A. H.) 100

HIRST, E. Vf.—Self and Neighbour (H. J. W. H.) .... 359

HOBHOUSE, L. T.—The Elements of Social Justice (P. V. M. Benecke) - 372
HOFFDING, H. — Bemerkungen iiber den Platonischen Dialog Parmenides

(A. E. Taylor) > 373

HOLLING WORTH, H. L. — The Psychology of Functional Neuroses (W.

Whately Smith) ... 107

HOWLEY, J. — Psychology and Mystical Experience (J. W. Scott) - - 105

JOAD, C. E. M. — Common-Sense Ethics (J. Laird) 217

JONES, Sir H., and J. H. MUIRHEAD. — The Life and Philosophy of Ed-
ward Caird (B. Bosanquet) " 350

CONTENTS. Vll

PAGE

KEITH, A. B. — Indian Logic and Atomism (S. N. Dasgupta) - - - 231
LAMPKBCHT, S. P. — T}ie Moral and Political Philosophy of John Locke

(J. G.) Ill

LANGFELD, H. S.— The Aesthetic Attitude (C. W. Valentine) - - 371
LEON, X.—Fichte et son Temps, Vol. I. (J. E. McTaggart) 363
LEVF, A.— La Filosofia di Giorgio Berkeley (A. E. T.) - - 375
MATTHEWS, W. R. — Studies in Christian Philosophy (F. R. Tennant) - 229
MENTRE, F.—Especes et Varietes d' Intelligences (B. Bosanquet) - - 234
MORE, P. E.— The Religion of Plato (A. E. Taylor) 518
MUIRHEAD, J. H., and Sir H. JONES. — The Life and Philosophy of Ed-
ward Caird (B. Bosanquetj - 350

MULLER-FREIENFELS, R. — Persb'nlichkeit und Weltanschauung (F. C. S.

Schiller) 110

POYNTING, J. H. — Collected Scientific Papers (G. Dawes Hicks) - - 102

READ, C. S. — Military Psychiatry in Peace and War (W. L. M.) - - 109

RENSI, G. — Lineamenti di Filosofia Scettica (F. C. S. Schiller) - - 367

REYBURN, H. A.— The Ethical Theory of Hegel (J. S. Mackenzie) - 356

ROYCE, J. — Fugitive Essays (J. Laird) - Ill

RUIN, H.—Erlebnis und Wissen (F. C. S. Schiller) 240

SCHOLZ, H. — Die Religions2)hilosophie des Als Ob (F. C. S. Schiller) - 354

SELLARS, R. W .—Evolutionary Naturalism (H. F. Hallett) 360

SEMON, R.—The Mneme (A. D. R.) 233

SORLEY, W. R.— A History of English Philosophy (A. E. Taylor) - 208

STAGE, W. T.—A Critical History of Greek Philosophy (A. E. Taylor) - 238
STERN, W.—Die Differentielle Psychologie in ihren methodischen

Grundlagen (F. C. B.) - 374

THOMAS, E. E.— Lome's Theory of Reality (J. Laird) - - 365
THOMSON, G. H., and W. BROWN.— The Essentials of Mental Measure-
ment (C. W. Valentine) - - - 236

URQUHART, W. S. — Pantheism and the Value of Life (S. N. Dasgupta) 230

VARENDONCK, J. — The Psychology of Day-dreams (T. H. Pear) - - 213

WINDBLBAND, W. — An Introduction to Philosophy (H. Barker) - - 521

PHILOSOPHICAL PERIODICALS.

British Journal of Psychology (x., 4, July, 1920; xi., 1, Oct., 1920) - 115

,, ,, „ (xi., 2 and 3, Jan. and April, 1921) - - 243

,, „ ,, (xii., 1, June, 1921) 378

„ „ (xii., 2, Oct., 1921) 530

International Journal of Ethics (xxxi., Oct., 1920-July, 1921) - - 117

„ ,, (xxxii., 1, Oct., 1921) 252

( „ 2, Jan., 1922) .... 535

Journal of Philosophy (xviii. (1921), 11-26) 244

(xix. (1922), 1-2) 247

( „ (1922), 3-5) 379

( „ (1922), 6-9) 534

Logos (iv., 2-3, April-Sept., 1921) 248

„ (iv., 4, Oct.-Dec., 1921) 531

Revue Ne'o-Scolastique de Philosophic (xxiii., 91 and 92, Aug. and Nov.,

1921) 249

(xxiv., 93, Feb., 1922) ... 534

Revue de Philosophic (Jan. -Aug., 1921) 119

(Sept.-Dec., 1921) 251

Rivista di Filosofia (xiii., 2, April- June, 1921) 250

( „ 3 and 4, July-Dec., 1921) 533

Rivista di Filosofia Neo-Scolastica (xiii., 5 and 6, Sept.-Dec., 1921) • 532

Vlll CONTENTS.

NOTES.

BLONDEL'S " L'Action " 38Q

BOSANQUET, B. — Prof. Broad on the External World .... 122

BROAD, C. D.— „ „ „ - - - - 122

ERRATUM 124

LUTOSLAWSKI, W. — Intuition of Reality 331

MACKENZIE, J. S. — Imaginism ----.... 535

MIND ASSOCIATION : List of Officers and Members .... 125

,, ,, : Notice of Annual Meeting - - - - - 255

OBITUARY NOTICES : E. Boutroux x . 123

» „ - Miss E. E. G. Jones 383

,, ,, : Sir Henry Jones 381

SCHULE DER GEISTESKUNDE . 255

SOCIETAS SPINOZANA - 334

STEIN, LEO. — Dr. Lutoslawski's Theory of Personality .... 253

STOUT, G. F.— A Correction 255

NEW SERIES. No. 121.] [JANUARY, 1922.

MIND

A QUARTERLY REVIEW

OF

PSYCHOLOGY AND PHILOSOPHY

I.— THE PHILOSOPHICAL RESEARCHES OF
MEINONG (I.).

BY G-. DAWES HICKS.

I HAVE undertaken to give some account in this Journal of
Meinong's contributions to philosophy. It was a rash under-
taking. For the task is one of peculiar difficulty. Had
Meinong made any attempt to think out or develop a
comprehensive metaphysical theory, it would have been
comparatively easy to sketch the main features of that
theory, and perhaps to indicate where it seemed exposed to
attack. But his speculative genius lay not in the direction
of system-building ; and I suspect he distrusted the attitude
of mind which system-building frequently betokens. His
published work, and it is amazingly voluminous, is all of it of
an extremely detailed kind ; its value largely consists in its
resolute thoroughness, in the rare combination it shows of
unprejudiced observation with acute inference, and in the
minute care with which he tried to see all round and to get
to the roots of the problems he handled. Moreover, the
themes he selected for treatment were almost always those
at the growing-point of philosophical inquiry ; he had an ex-
traordinary facility of discerning precisely that which required
to be wrestled with in order to make headway in philosophi-
cal research. As a writer he was lucid and clear; but his
very persistency in tracking a subject through its ramifications
gives to his mode of exposition a certain prolixity, which
those who like to have their philosophy served up to them in
imagery and metaphor will be ready enough to decry as dul-
ness. Yet his intellectual honesty in describing the data with

Z G. DAWES HICKS :

which he was concerned, his snbtlety of analysis, his keenness
of criticism are sufficiently exemplified in everything he wrote.

In spite, however, of its difficulties, there is more need of
such a task as has been set for me being undertaken in the case
of Meinong's work than in the case of that of most philoso-
phers. For it is true to say that the different investigations
upon which he was engaged, independent of one another
though at first sight they appear to be, are not in fact
unrelated, and that his various lines of reflexion have
principles in common which it would certainly be worth
while to drag to light. I can hardly hope to succeed in
doing so; but I may perhaps contrive to furnish such an
outline of Meinong's ways of thinking as may be serviceable
to those who have not as yet made acquaintance with his
writings. Of their importance no one who is familiar with
them can be in doubt ; they are important as profound in-
quiries into the most fundamental of philosophical questions ;
they are important no less as illustrating the method by
which philosophic truth is won.

By way of preface, I prefix a few words of biographical
import. Alexius Meinong was born at Lemberg on 17th
July, 1853. His family was of German extraction, and
his father had settled on Polish soil on account of his pro-
fessional duties. Meinong's student years were all spent in
Vienna. After being six years at a private school there, he
became a scholar of the academic gymnasium ; and it was
due in particular to two of his teachers in the latter institution
that, contrary to the original plan of his parents, who had
destined him for the law, and despite a strong inclination on
his own part to devote himself to music, he decided in the end
upon a scientific career. He entered the University in the
autumn of 1870, matriculating in the Faculty of History. In
the summer of 1874 he took his degree, having submitted for
it a dissertation on Arnold of Brescia. From his gymnasium
days he had, however, imbibed an interest in philosophy ; and
he chose philosophy as his Nebenfach, offering himself for
examination in the first two of Kant's Critiques which, in
blissful ignorance of their pitfalls, he had striven to master
by his own unaided reading. The results of his criticism of
Kant, animated, he tells us, by a very naive radicalism, must,
he confesses, have been primitive enough; but, without
suspecting it, he had thus commenced his life's work. For
a while he attended lectures on law ; but early in 1875 he
resolved to give himself entirely to philosophy. He sought
naturally the guidance of Brentano, then at the height of
his influence. That guidance was unstintingly placed at

THE PHILOSOPHICAL EESEAECHES OF MEINONG. 6

his disposal ; and Meinong never ceased to speak in the
warmest terms of his indebtedness to his teacher,1 although
he had occasion to disclaim the description of himself and
Ehrenfels as belonging to the Brentano school. The first of
the Hume-Studien was the outcome of a line of investigation
which Brentano proposed to him ; and it served as Habilita-
tionsschrift by which he became a Privatdozent in the Philo-
sophical Faculty of Vienna in 1878. In that capacity he
continued in Vienna four more years, during which period
Hofler, Ehrenfels and Oelzelt-Newin were his pupils. He was
appointed in the autumn of 1882 (when the second of the Hume-
Studien was published) Professor extraordinarius of Philo-
sophy at Graz ; and in Graz he remained for the rest of his life,
refusing repeated calls to larger fields of labour (such as Kiel
in 1898 and Vienna in 1914), because it seemed to him that
here he would best succeed in accomplishing the scientific work
he had prescribed for himself. He started at the University
in 1886, through apparatus provided by private means, ex-
perimental research in psychology ; and in 1894 there was
instituted in Graz the first psychological laboratory estab-
lished in Austria. In the spring of 1889, Meinong was
appointed Professor ordinarius; and in the autumn of that
year he married. During the thirty years that followed, an
extensive series of investigations occupied his activity —
investigations some of which had to do with fundamental
epistemological issues, others that were of a psychological
nature, and others again which belonged to the field of
ethics, more especially to the theory of value, to which his
yearly recurring lectures on practical philosophy had, in a
certain measure, afforded the stimulus. Only by degrees
(scarcely, he tells us, before 1900) did he come to realise that
in all these researches he had been moving in a direction
which was new and of vital philosophical significance. To the
bulky volume that was issued in 1904 in celebration of the
tenth anniversary of the Graz psychological laboratory,
Meinong contributed an introductory essay in which he
definitely formulated, and endeavoured to determine the
scope of, what seemed to him entitled to be called a distinct
department of philosophical science, clearly demarcated from
either metaphysics, or epistemology, or logic, or psychology ;
and to it he gave the name of Gegenstandstheorie. After

JFor instance, in the last of his publications, he wrote : "Was etwa das
Leben nicht mehr zu schlichten vermochte, das hat der Tod geschlichtet,
und vor dem Auge meiner Erinnerung steht als unverlier barer Besitz, wie
einst, die Lichtgestalt meines verehrten Lehrers in durchgeistigter
Schonheit, ubergoldet durch den Sonnenglanz seiner und meiner Jugend ".

4 G. DAWES HICKS :

1904, much of his strength was concentrated upon what he
regarded as problems of this new field of inquiry, and upon
urging its claims to recognition. In 1914, he was elected a
member of the Austrian Academie der Wissenschaften (he
had been a corresponding member since 1906) ; and to its
Proceedings several of his latest papers were contributed.1
He died at the age of sixty-seven on 27th November, 1920,
of an ailment which for months he had patiently borne,
continuing his academic and scientific labours until a few
days from the end.

I.

One of Meinong's early writings2 was partly devoted to a
discussion of the nature and aims of philosophical inquiry and
the position of philosophy in respect to the other sciences.
Without unnatural limitation, he had there contended, philo-
sophy cannot be taken to denote a single comprehensive
science. It indicates rather a whole group of sciences, linked
together by a common characteristic. And the characteristic
in question is, he urged, that of being concerned, either ex-
clusively or at least in certain essential respects, with inner
experiences. Not only psychology itself, but likewise episte-
mology and logic, ethics and aesthetics, can readily be brought
under this point of view, embarrassing though it may be to
find an exact formula for the connectedness which is thus
implied. Even metaphysics, in virtue of the very generality
of its subject-matter, is constrained to bring non-psychical
into relationship with psychical facts, in order to maintain
an independent position alongside of the natural sciences.

It might seem, then, as though Meinong were here assign-
ing to psychology a dominant position among the parts of
philosophy as a whole ; and so in a manner he was. Any
attempt to proceed in philosophical reflexion by leaving out
of account the consideration of psychical processes is in itself,
he argued, a sufficiently convincing demonstration of the in-
herent unnaturalness of such an endeavour, and no meta-
physic elaborated without regard to psychological research

1 Apart from the scattered papers now collected together in the Gesam-
melte Abhandlungen (of which at the time of writing two out of the three
contemplated volumes have appeared), the following are Meinong's chief
publications : Psychologisch-ethische Untersuchungen zur Werttheorie (1894) ;
Ueber Annahmen (1902 ; a second and greatly altered edition in 1910) ;
Ueber die Erfahrungsgrundlagen unseres Wissens (1906) ; Ueber Moglichkeii
und Wahrscheinlichkeit (1915).

2 Ueber Philosophische Wissenschaft und Hire Propadeutik, 1885.

THE PHILOSOPHICAL RESEAKCHES OF MEINONG-. 5

and its results can be expected to stand.1 Such was his
contention to the last. But, as time went on, he came to
draw a very sharp line of demarcation between psychology
and psychologism, and to express himself as virtually in
accord with Husserl's well-known polemic against the latter
in the Logische Untersuchungen. Within the circle of a
certain set of problems, it is, Meinong declared, sufficiently
easy to see what is meant by the term psychologism; it
simply means psychological methods of treatment in the
wrong place. Since knowing is a mode of experience (ein
Erlebnis), epistemology cannot wholly dispense with psycho-
logical methods. Yet over against the act of knowing stands
the known ; knowledge, in other words, has a double-sided
aspect ; and whoever pursues an epistemological inquiry as
though there were only the psychical aspect of knowledge,
or persists in forcing the other aspect under the point of
view of psychical event or occurrence, cannot escape the re-
proach which the term psychologism carries with it.

Nevertheless, I am inclined to believe that Meinong ex-
posed himself to not a little misunderstanding by adhering as
he did throughout to that early contention of his that in
psychology is to be discerned the thread, so to speak, which
binds the different parts of philosophy into such whole as
they constitute. For he scarcely meant to imply more by
the contention than that in the notion of knowledge is to be
found the link of connexion between the several branches of
philosophy, theoretical or practical. In other words, what,
in truth, he was saying was that there is not one group of
objects specifically entitled to be called the subject-matter of
philosophy ; but that any part or the whole of what is vaguely
described as the field of experience may be handled philo-
sophically if treated from the point of view of its relation to
the human thinking subject. What light can it throw on
the relations in which the human mind stands to the sur-
rounding reality ? — such was the fundamental question which
philosophy has addressed to it. And, then, the special
branches of philosophy would seem to be determined by the
main differences of a general kind which disclose themselves
in those relations. These differences would, for example, be
not inappropriately classified under the three heads : (a) cog-
nitive, (5) practical, and (c) aesthetic. So conceived, it is

1 On the other hand, he was equally strenuous in maintaining that the
psychology, be it never so experimental, which ruthlessly brushes epistemo-
iogical and other philosophical considerations aside is bound to become
enbai gled in crudities and absurdities, which, in the long run, will mean its
undoing.

6 G. DAWES HICKS :

obvious that the treatment of knowledge in all its aspects
must form the central portion of philosophical science. For
it is only in and through the process of knowing that the
human mind has a place at all in the scheme of existence;
and, although the practical and aesthetic activities are dis-
tinguishable from the knowing activity, they nevertheless
imply the latter as an essential condition of their possibility.
Clearly, the investigation of knowledge divides into two
diverging lines of inquiry, according as it turns upon the
question as to the validity of knowledge or upon the question
as to the way in which knowing comes forward as a natural
process in the life of the individual mind. Furthermore,
inasmuch as in both these paths of inquiry the antithesis be-
tween the subjective and the objective presents itself, yielding,
in the one case, the problem of what meanwhile may be
described as that of the ' correspondence ' of our thinking
with reality, and, in the other case, that of the way in which
our mental processes are occasioned or influenced by external
conditions, the final issue is bound to be raised which has
been traditionally designated metaphysical. That issue may
perhaps be expressed thus : What conception of real fact are
we led to form in order to render intelligible, on the one
hand, the attainment of truth by human thinking, and, on
the other hand, the conjoint co-operation of mental and ex-
ternal conditions in the natural world ?

Such, at any rate, in broad outline, is what I take to have
been the essence of Meinong's view in respect to the function
and scope of the philosophical sciences. Most of his publica-
tions between the years 1882 and 1904 had to do with
questions which could not be exhaustively dealt with either
from the point of view of psychology alone or from that of
epistemology alone. And Meinong came gradually to see
how both modes of investigation could be combined, and
combined without committing the blunder, which can only
lead to hopeless confusion, of prematurely mixing up the
two methods and of drawing upon the one while ostensibly
engaged in carrying on an inquiry under the other.

II.

It was a fortunate circumstance that Meinong had been
induced to devote himself, at the beginning of his career, to a
thorough study of Hume's theory of knowledge. The out-
come of his patient examination of that theory was not only
a valuable piece of genuine philosophical criticism ; it was
also a clear discernment of the exact points in regard to which

THE PHILOSOPHICAL KESEARCHES OF MEINONG. 7

the adequacy of the empirical doctrine could best be tested.
The Hume-Studien disclose, in fact, the way in which the
crucial problems of knowledge originally shaped themselves
for Meinong ; it is, therefore, advisable to look at these Studien
somewhat in detail.

The first of them (published in 1877) is concerned with
abstract ideas and the process of generalising. The treat-
ment of the matter by Berkeley and Hume is submitted to a
scrutiny far more searching and penetrating than that which
T. H. Green, in his elaborate Introduction, had brought to
bear. Attention is drawn, for example, to the totally different
senses in which Berkeley employs the term "sign" when
dealing with ideas and words respectively and to the fact that
he leaves entirely unanswered the important question, how a
general name is related to a general notion. Berkeley, it is
argued, ought to have seen that he had not disposed of
abstract ideas by disposing -of Locke's account of their mode
of origin ; for the very concessions he makes, obviously in-
consequences in his exposition as it stands, would, if they
had been followed up, have forced him to that conclusion.
Indeed, in more than one place, Berkeley, it is pointed out,
was on the verge of a psychological theory that could have
been substituted for Locke's, in so far as he laid stress upon
the consideration that in observing an individual fact it lies
within our power to concentrate attention upon certain of its
characteristics, and that thus its remaining characteristics are
disregarded. Hume, it is shown, completely misconceived
what he described as " one of the greatest and most valuable
discoveries " made in his time " in the republic of letters".
But the nominalistic view, which he erroneously took to be
Berkeley's, was the view which he himself tried to put " be-
yond all doubt and controversy " ; and, by examining in turn
each of the negative and positive arguments employed in the
Treatise for this purpose, Meinong exhibits, in a convincing
manner, the failure of that attempt.

As regards the negative arguments, the very formulation
of the thesis they are advanced to support is, Meinong bids
us observe, in itself extraordinary. While Hume's intention
is admittedly to deny all abstraction, what he actually tries
to prove is that " the mind cannot form any notion of quan-
tity or quality without forming a precise notion of degrees
of each," as though it were not evident, on the face of it,
how many of the cases usually taken to be cases of abstrac-
tion are thereby left out of account. But, waiving this ob-
jection, no one of the three arguments by which the thesis
was to be put beyond the range of controversy will bear

8 G. DAWES HICKS :

examination. Take, for instance, the third of them. It will
be granted, Hume avers, that everything in nature is indi-
vidual, and that it would be absurd to suppose a really exist-
tent triangle which was without definite dimensions. And
if this be absurd in reality, it must also be absurd in idea.
Again, " to form the idea of an object, and to form an idea
simply, is the same thing." If, then, it be impossible to form
an idea of an object that is not possessed of definite quanti-
tative and qualitative degree, there must be an equal impos-
sibility of forming an idea, that is not limited in both these
particulars. Meinong has little trouble in convicting this
argument of either a formal or a material fallacy ; a formal
fallacy, if by ' everything ' be meant jedes Ding, for then the
word ' object ' is equivocal, since it is used both for an existent
thing and for a content of presentation, a material fallacy, if
by ' everything ' be meant alles, for then it is false that
everything in nature is individual. Furthermore, granted
that it is absurd to suppose there can be a thing in nature
without its definite degree of quality and quantity, granted
that each thing must accordingly be perceived as in this re-
spect a determinate thing, does it, then, in the least follow
that each idea of that thing must necessarily represent all
these determinations ? An assumption of that sort would be
no less ridiculous than to maintain that because an individual
existent has an indefinitely large number of characteristics,
the content of the notion of that existent must be indefinitely
great. In short, an idea of an individual thing is far from
being an individual idea ; and yet except on the ground that
the idea of an individual thing is an individual idea, no in-
ference can be drawn from the individuality of things to the
individuality of ideas.

The positive line of argument by which Hume sought to
come to the assistance of what he took to be Berkeley's theory
turns out, in Meinong's hands, to be no less unsatisfactory.
First of all, he would have us notice the singular want of
perspicuity characterising Hume's exposition. The problem
is to explain how a particular idea attains in our reasoning an
application such as it would have were it universal. The
explanation offered is that we apply the same name to similar
objects ; and, when that custom has established itself, the
hearing of the name revives the idea of one of these objects,
the one wrhich happens casually to make its appearance most
readily. Yet what about the other ideas, likewise associated
with the name? " They are," Hume replies " not really and
in fact present to the mind, but only in power." But, asks
Meinong, since when? Hume would appear to say, since

THE PHILOSOPHICAL EESEAKCHES OF MEINONG. 9

the act of mentioning the name. A disposition to revive the
ideas in question must, however, surely have been previously
there, if eventually, through aid of the word, they are repro-
ducible. The situation becomes the more perplexing when
Hume goes on to assert that the word raises up besides the idea
a " certain custom," and that this custom produces any other
individual idea, for which we may have occasion. Are we, then,
here to understand by " custom " a permanent indispensable
pre-condition of the last mentioned idea, and by " occasion " the
immediate cause of its appearance ? If so, the whole theory
stands or falls with what can be made out with respect to
this "occasion". Nevertheless, Hume vouchsafes no infor-
mation as to whether such an " occasion " must always be
present whenever we hear that wrord, nor is it easy to see
wherein the necessity of its presence could be supposed to
lie, although in its absence there can admittedly be no
question of generality. Hume's lack of precision just where
precision is necessary renders it difficult to come to close
quarters with the theory itself ; but the moment we try to
do so it becomes manifest, Meinong urges, how little mere as-
sociation without abstraction is able to achieve. We have be-
fore us, let us say, a round piece of paper or a mill-stone (see-
ing that, ex hypothesi, we cannot think of a circle in abstracto),
and we call this "shape". Now, it can safely be affirmed
that it would never occur to us, so soon as we happened to see
a square corn-field, to call to mind that " shape" and to give
the name " shape " likewise to the field. No doubt, if we were
in a position to think of shape in abstracto, all would be plain
sailing, but this is precisely what Hume is concerned to deny.
Naturally, the difficulty becomes the more glaring the greater
the generality attaching to the name. Moreover, as Hume
himself points out, the same thing may be called by a great
number of different names — e.g., mill-stone, a round thing,
a heavy thing, a material thing, etc. Yet he has offered no ex-
planation of how, under such unfavourable circumstances, it
cornes about that even the slightest appreciable association be-
tween word and idea could be formed. Once more, and assum-
ing meanwhile that objections such as the foregoing have been
surmounted, no sooner is the effort made to see how * general
ideas,' formed in the manner supposed, function in proposi-
tions than the theory breaks down hopelessly. A proposition,
such as " wolves are mammals," it would have to be said, is
in the first instance an assertion about words ; so far as actual
things are concerned, the statement could only express the
result of a perfectly general inference based on a similarity
which association with the word " mammal " presupposed.

10 G. DAWES HICKS :

But, since the same objects are also associated with many
other words — e.g., organic being — nothing would be gained
by the knowledge of that similarity. Finally, if account be
taken of all that is usually included under the head of ab-
straction, the inadequacy of the doctrine becomes strikingly
apparent. We speak often enough of family traits, of natural
types, of a literary style, and so forth ; and, in doing so, are
referring to characteristics which several individuals have in
common. The ideas of such attributes appear, therefore, as
general notions, in regard to which scarcely any one would
dispute that the common feature must first be recognised as
such before a name can be given to it. Here, then, quite cer-
tainly the name acquires its generality through the notion,
and not the notion through the name.

The two fundamental errors that, in Meinong's opinion,
vitiate Hume's theory are (a) his failure to take account of
the content or intension of a concept, and (6) his use of the
doctrine of association to explain the way in which the con-
cept acquires its extension or denotation. In ordinary usage,
the terms general and particular have reference to the exten-
sion, and the terms abstract and concrete to the intension,
of a concept. A concept that is or can be applied to many
objects is general; a concept that is obtained by an act of
abstraction is abstract. Every concrete object is an in-
dividual object. But the presentation of a concrete object
includes only such characteristics as can be apprehended by
sense at any one moment; consequently individual objects
are known, for the most part, in a form that is more or less
abstract. No doubt, it is as concrete that every empirical
datum comes at first into consciousness ; and, in so far, con-
crete data furnish the basis of knowledge. Knowledge,
however, is primarily concerned not with presentations but
with their objects. In knowing, we seek to liberate that
which we take to be peculiar to the object from the contin-
gent features introduced into it by the act of apprehending.
Bo that almost always just that which makes the presentation
concrete will fall away from it. It follows, therefore, so
Meinong argues, that while all general notions are abstract,
not all abstract notions are general. In respect to the ques-
tion whether a concept is universal or particular, the number
of attributes constituting its content is quite immaterial;
not so, however, the quality of those attributes, because it
will be according as, in view of such quality, the presence of
individual objects, corresponding to the concept in question,
be conceived as mathematically or physically impossible or
otherwise, that the concept must be held to be individual or

THE PHILOSOPHICAL EESEARCHES OF MEINONG. 11

general. On the other hand, however, in respect to the
question whether a universal concept is more or less universal,
the amount of content may, under certain circumstances, be
a relevant consideration, and the quality of the content al-
ways is ; but neither from the one nor the other nor from
both alone can any answer be given to the question, because,
in reference to extension, we are concerned with a relation,
while the content gives us only one term of the relation, and
the second term must be supplied by experience. Meinong,.
insists, then, that the extension is not, like the intension,
something definitely fixed or self-evident ; but that, on the
contrary, the real extension of a notion is no less independent
of our knowledge than is any fact of the external wrorld. Con-
sequently, to suppose that between general and individual
idea an association must first be contracted in order that the
latter should be subsumed under the former is, for this very
reason, absolutely precluded. In fine, Meinong's argument
is directed all through to bringing out what he conceives to
be the truth that not association but the self-conscious activity
of attention is the main function involved in abstraction and
generalisation.

The second of the Hume-Studien (published, as already
noted, in 1882), deals with the theory of relations, and is
much more constructive than the first had been ; Meinong
here elaborates a position of his own that, in view of his
subsequent work, deserves special notice. His method, how-
ever, is still the same as before. He still proceeds on the basis
of a critical discussion of what he finds in the writings of Locke,.
Hume, and the later empirical thinkers. As he had formerly
refused to recognise in Hume's nominalism a legitimate
development of Berkeley's doctrine, so here he is inclined to
defend Locke's common-sense treatment of the subject under
consideration against Hume's psychical atomism. But he
does not fall into Kant's mistake of supposing it was only in
reference to cause and effect that Hume had raised the issue
of necessary connexion ; indeed, it is not so much upon
Hume's handling of causality as upon his handling of the
more elementary relations of likeness and difference that
Meinong's scrutiny is concentrated. And he maintains that
Hume's whole theoretical philosophy is so essentially built
upon his Relationslehre that an exposition of the latter, with
any claim to completeness, would scarcely be justified in
leaving a single portion of the former out of account.

At the outset, Meinong resists the view (the view of Mill and
Spencer, but derived ultimately from Hume) that a relation,
such as that of likeness, is explicable from the mere presence

12 G. DAWES HICKS :

to consciousness of two or more presentations, in this case
like or resembling presentations. He takes his stand at once
on the principle laid down by Lotze. "Every comparison,
and in general every relation between two elements, pre-
supposes," so Lotze had asserted, " that both points of relation
remain separate, and that an ideating activity passes over
from the one to the other, and at the same time becomes
conscious of the alteration which it has experienced in this
transition. We exercise such an activity when, for example,
we compare red and blue, and thereby there ensues for us
the new presentation of a qualitative similarity, which we
ascribe to both."1 Meinong points out that the existence of
an activity of the kind indicated by Lotze had already been
virtually recognised by Locke, when he described relations
as complex ideas resulting from an act of comparison, al-
though Locke had left the nature of the act which he thus
'Specified undetermined. So much being granted, there is,
Meinong argues, already determined what alone, in any in-
telligible sense, can be called the fundamentum relationis of
the activity in question ; clearly it can be no other than the
•compared presentations themselves. No doubt, what, as a
rule, we have given are not single but complex presenta-
tions, complexes of presented attributes. If two dice, one
red and the other blue, be compared and found to be different,
the comparison, in the strict sense, has reference not to the
shape but to the colour ; and, accordingly, only the actually
'Compared features ought to be spoken of as fundamenta.
Yet, in such cases, we are wont to say not merely that the
two colours but that the two dice have been compared,
with the qualification, perhaps, "in respect to their colour ".
And in this usage may be discerned what Locke had in
mind when he insisted that in a relation there is always re-
quisite, on the one hand, the things to be compared, and, on
the other hand, the " occasion " for such comparison. In the
example just used, the dice are the things, the colour the
"occasion". Evidently, then, there can be no relation
without a fundamentum, or more precisely two fundamenta.
These may themselves be relations, for relations can, of
-course, be compared ; but we cannot go on making relations
the fundamenta of relations indefinitely; ultimately every
relation has for its fundamenta presentations which are not
relations, for otherwise there would be a comparison in which
there was nothing compared. Hume's initial error, an error
that ruined his classification of relations, consisted in his con-
iusing the notion of fundamentum with that of relation.

1 Grundzuje der Psychologic, p. 23.

THE PHILOSOPHICAL BESEABCHES OF MEINONG. 13

Two chief classes of relations are distinguished by Meinong
—relations of comparison (Vergleichunysrelationen) and re-
lations of compatibility (Vertrdglichkeitsrelationeri). (a)
Under the first class are included relations of likeness
(Gleichheif) and of unlikeness or difference (Verschiedenheit).
And here the view (e.g., Mill's) that likeness is only a special
case of resemblance (Aehnlichlceit) is decisively rejected.
Resemblance, it is argued, may be present in all conceivable
gradations, but in likeness there is no gradation — what is
like is completely like, and what is not completely like is not
like — so that it would be unnatural to bring the cases of
likeness and certain cases of unlikeness under the head of
resemblance, and the remaining cases of unlikeness under
the head of difference. Not only so ; it would be difficult to
imagine how, through determination of the notion of resem-
blance, the notion of likeness could have arisen. And finally,
the usage of language is altogether adverse to the view in
question, for in speaking of similarity one is almost invariably
conscious of difference as being likewise involved. Resem-
blance, then, is always a special case of difference ; in so far
as partial agreement or likeness is essential to resemblance,
it is still only likeness of elements, while the resemblance is
asserted of the whole. Spatial and temporal relations fall
within this class. The fundamenta of the former are like
and unlike space-determinations within the homogeneous
space-continuum, and of the latter time-determinations within
the homogeneous time-continuum. (5) Meinong was led to-
constitute relations of compatibility into a class by them-
selves through consideration of what Hume had meant by
' contrariety ' and Locke, in his familiar definition of know-
ledge, by 'repugnancy'. The notions compatibility and
incompatibility are not, he maintains, constituted after the
manner of the notions likeness and difference. The latter ad-
mit of no definition, and can only be explained by means of
examples ; the former do seem to admit of a kind of definition
— compatible is what can subsist together, incompatible what
cannot. In the long run, the question of compatibility can
only be raised with regard to attributes of like time- and
space-determinations. Here we seem to be face to face
with an ultimate fact, and a fact which belongs not to the
province of presentation but to that of judgment. When it is
said, for example, that the ' round ' and the ' square ' cannot
be simultaneously in the same place, there is no new pre-
sented content introduced by the phrase ' cannot ' ; it only
makes the statement an expression of a negative judgment,
and this judgment carries with it that peculiar, indescrib-

14 G. DAWES HICKS:

able, and familiar characteristic which it has long been
customary to describe as evidence. It would seem, therefore,
that relations of compatibility may be said, in a certain
sense, to be secondary formations, in so far as they are
based upon a special case of relations of comparison —
namely, on the case of like space- and time-determinations.
There is, however, a further feature to be noticed. The two
possibilities that come forward in regard to this second class
of relations do not stand independently side by side as like-
ness and unlikeness do. The one can only be characterised
as the negation of the other ; and, moreover, it is compati-
bility that is the negation of incompatibility and not vice
versa ; for compatibility seems to imply no more than that,
in a particular instance, one has before him a case where
evidence for an incompatibility of the kind indicated is
wanting. If it be asked why such different things as cases
of comparison and of compatibility should be grouped to-
gether under the title of relations between presented objects,
Meinong would here justify his doing so by pointing in the
first instance to the part played by the presented objects,
which seemed to him perfectly analogous in the two cases.
For these objects, the fundamenta, are invariably the basis
upon which rest, in the one case, the presentation of likeness
or difference, and the evident affirmation which attaches
itself thereto ; and, in the other case, the evident negation.
So that incompatibility and likeness may each be said to be
a relation between presented attributes.1

Meinong does not claim that his two-fold classification of
relations is an exhaustive classification, although it does, he
thinks, cover all the seven kinds distinguished by Hume in the
Treatise. There are, however, relations toto genere distinct
from any that were considered either by Hume or Locke. For
instance, in quite a legitimate sense, one may speak of a
relation between the act of presenting (vorstellen) and its
content, where we have to do not with presented contents
alone but also with the act in and through which those
contents have their being. And this relation is not the
product of a new activity ; on the contrary, in the appre-
hension of it we seem to be no less passive than we seem to
be in regard to the data described as fundamenta. So, too,

1 This contention was discarded in the later writings. In them, Meinong
maintains that relations of compatibility are based upon Objectives (see
below, p. 26 sqq.) ; and that, consequently, they are relations not between
presented attributes but between objects such as can only be apprehended
through judgments or assumptions (c/., e.g., Ueber Annahmen, 2te Aufl.,
p. 215 sqq.).

THE PHILOSOPHICAL EESEAECHES OF MEINONG. 15

the relations between the elements of a composite presenta-
tion are not in the least analogous to the relations between
the presented parts of a physical object. These, then, are
instances of what Meinong here calls "real relations " — real,
because, seeing they are not outcomes of a new activity,
they must really belong to the data, otherwise there could
be no awareness of them. At the same time, ' real,' in this
context, must not be understood as referring to anything
extra-psychical, for obviously the relations in question are
between psychical data, and are directly accessible to us in
a way in which relations outside the circle of psychical
phenomena never can be. As contrasted with these "real
relations," the relations previously considered may be called
" ideal relations " — ideal, because they are the products of a
specific psychical activity, and do not belong to the data apart
from such activity. But now, within the sphere of " ideal
relations " a further line of demarcation requires to be drawn.
Hume distinguished between relations that depend entirely on
the ideas compared and those that may be changed without
any change in the ideas. Through his failure clearly to
recognise the significance of fundamenta for a relation, Hume
was led wrongly to include contiguity and distance under
relations of the last mentioned kind. Yet his distinction
itself is an important one and coincides with the distinction
upon which Meinong thinks stress should be laid between
primary and secondary relations. The primary relations,
those of comparison and of compatibility, are obtained be-
yond question by an act of discrimination directed upon the
given fundamenta. There are, however, secondary relations,
combinations of special cases of primary ones, where relative
determinations without fundamenta come more or less to
the front. With respect to secondary relations the data
accessible to us are not sufficient, and if we connect the
assertion of such relations with these data, we must have
grounds for doing so outside the data themselves. The two
chief secondary or derivative relations are those of causation
and identity, both of which have been acquired originally
as the result of practical needs. Meinong's analysis of the
causal relation is virtually in agreement with Mill's. He
lays repeated emphasis, however, upon the consideration that
with respect to causality (and the same is true with respect
to identity) it is impossible to confine attention to presenta-
tions ; there is always involved a reference to external things,
to real existents. To ascribe causality to mere presentations
would, he says, be like ascribing a true biography to a prince
in a fairy tale. The relation of causality is invariably

16 G. DA WES HICKS:

" earned over " into the external world. And he tries to show
that there is nothing inexplicable in this reference to real
existents. When one says, for example, of two feelings,
that prior to the act of comparison by which they are judged
to be different they were in fact different, there has already
been such a " carrying over " of the ideal relation of differ-
ence from presented contents to existent entities. At the
same time, primary relations may be said to be "pure rela-
tions " in the sense that an Uebertragung of this kind is not
essential for their being as relations, whereas it is essential
for the being of secondary or " empirical" relations. The
pure relations are, therefore, a priori, and the judgments
asserting them are a priori judgments. But no judgment
about empirical relations can rest on a merely a priori
basis ; and just as little can a judgment about pure rela-
tions do so when it has reference not merely to presented
contents but also to existent fact. It is further clear that
none but "ideal relations" can be " carried over " into the
domain of extra-psychical reality.

III.

The foundation of Meinong's subsequent work is laid in
these early Studies. In them almost all the problems to
which later he devoted such unwearied intellectual industry
are, in one form or another, indicated, if not distinctly for-
mulated. Not a few of the positions which were here main-
tained came, it is true, in the course of time, to be abandoned,
and others to be radically revised ; and the reasons that led
to such changes often throw the clearest light upon the views
that were finally adopted. I shall have something to say
immediately upon some of the principal changes ; mean-
while I want to refer to one definite result which these
investigations yielded him, and from which he found no
occasion to deviate.

In his own way, Meinong had reached the principle which
may not inappropriately be said to be the starting-point of
the Kantian theory, — the principle, namely, that knowledge
involves a unique antithesis between knowing and the
known, and that any attempt, such as Hume had made, to
dispense with the former term of the antithesis must inevit-
ably prove futile and abortive. In other words, through grap-
pling with the crucial questions which the work of Hume and
Hume's followers had thrust upon him, Meinong came to
see the necessity of insisting upon the consideration that
an object known never can be identical with any act which

THE PHILOSOPHICAL RESEARCHES OF MEINONG. 17

is a knowing of it. And when once he had convinced him-
self that all knowledge involves recognition of relatedness
among the parts of what is known, the existence of cognitive
acts, as distinct from what Hume had called "impressions "
and "ideas," seemed to him to be indisputably established.
Let me try to illustrate his position in this respect. If it be
said that the two presentations A and B, having occurred,
somehow give rise to the new idea C — the idea, namely, of
their likeness or difference, such language only conceals the
want of explanation in what is said. For there must
obviously be some process, some operation of the mind,
through which the production of C has come about. A , it is
supposed, may and does occur separately, B occurs separately.
What is it, then, that takes place when A and B are held to-
gether so as to admit of what Hume himself had vaguely
called " comparison " ? Now it is possible — I think it is cer-
tain— that in stating the case in this way one is conceding too
much to the doctrine one is opposing, and I only do so in order
not to go beyond what Meinong himself would have said. But
the point is that even on the assumption that isolated con-
tents, presentations, are thus given, the inference is irresis-
tible that the simultaneous presence of these contents, their
peculiarities, their changes, and so on, furnish a new set of
conditions in response to which an inner activity of the mind
must have taken place, if so-called ideas of relation forthwith
make their appearance. In so far, Meinong was but reiterat-
ing Lotze's well-known contention ; and in this particular re-
ference, I do not know that he ever advanced any considerable
way from Lotze's position. He did not, I mean, ever call in
question the view of presentations as eo many separately
given units, or ask himself whether the separateness, the
singleness, the distinctiveness, which presentations, we will
say, come to have may not be due to that very activity which
he took to be involved in the comparison of them and in
discerning their relations. Had he done so, not a few of the
obscurities that beset, as we shall see, even his mature view
of cognition would, I believe, have been avoided, and he
would have emerged completely from the subjectivism of his
early days.

I pass now to consider the two main directions in which
Meinong was led to see that the view of knowledge he had
hitherto been taking required modification. These are not,
in fact, disconnected ; so soon as the one advance had been
made, it was well-nigh certain that the other would follow.

(a) In the Hume-Studien no distinction had as yet been
recognised between the ' content ' of an act of apprehension

2

18 G. DA WES HICKS I

and the ' object ' (Gegenstand} of that act. Throughout, the
former term had been employed as equivalent to the latter ;
and the act of apprehending had frequently been spoken of as
being ' directed upon ' the content. I think it likely that
Meinong was materially influenced in this regard by an
exceedingly acute piece of psychological analysis by Twar-
dowski, which was published in 1894.1 With admirable
lucidity, Twardowski pointed to the ambiguity that attaches
to the term Vorgestelltes — an ambiguity in its way no less
pronounced than that which admittedly attached to the term
Vorstellung. An object may be said to be 'presented ' in the
sense that, in addition to the many relations in which that
object stands to other objects, it also stands in a definite
relation to a cognising subject. And, in this sense, a ' pre-
sented object ' is a veritable object, just in the same way as
an extended object or a lost object is one. But, on the other
hand, by 'presented object ' may be meant what is a decided
contrast to a veritable object — namely, a ' mental picture ' of
an object — and then it is no longer a veritable object, is no
longer, in fact, an object at all. That which is presented in
a presentation is its content ; that which is presented through
or by means of a presentation is its object — so Twardowski
tried to bring out the contrast. In the paper (published in
1899), 2 in which Meinong himself first definitely insisted on
the importance of the distinction, Twardowski's little book is
specially alluded to and some of its illustrations are used.
The considerations that had weighed with Meinong were, he
tells us, such as the following. Nothing is more common
than to represent (vorstelleri) or to think of something which
does not exist. We may think of something that is con-
tradictory, a round square, for example, or of something that
does not happen to exist as a matter of fact, a golden
mountain, say, or of something which in virtue of its nature
cannot exist (likeness or difference is an instance), or of some-
thing which has existed or will exist but does not exist now.
Nevertheless, in all these cases a Vorstellung exists and exists
in the present. Now, argues Meinong, no unprejudiced per-
son would wish to maintain that the Vorstellung exists whilst
its content does not. That, however, is not the whole story.
' Content ' and ' object ' differ not only in respect to existence
but in respect to their nature or character. That which is
physical can be presented, but the content of a psychical act
can only be psychical ; so, too, qualities such as blue, warm,

1 Zur Lehre vom Inhalt und Gegenstand der Vorstellungen, Wien, 1894.

2 Ueber Gegenstande hoherer Ordnung, § 2, G. A., vol. ii., p. 379 sqq.

THE PHILOSOPHICAL BESEAECHES OF MBINONG. 19

heavy, can be presented, but neither the Vorstellung nor its
content by which these qualities are presented is blue or
warm or heavy ; attributes of this sort evince themselves at
once as totally inapplicable to the contents of mental acts.
As regards the relation of the mental act to its content, the
view which Meinong came to hold appears to have been that
they are inseparable but distinguishable constituents of one
existent fact or event. Whether it be a presentation (say) of
a steeple or of a causal relation, in each case an act of
presenting is involved, and qua act these presentations
resemble one another. On the other hand, in so far as the
presentations are presentations of different objects, they do
not resemble one another. And that wherein presentations
of different objects are unlike one another, notwithstanding
the circumstance that as acts they are not unlike, is their
content ; such content, no less than the act, being in each
case a psychical existent in the present, whereas the object
presented by means of it may be non-existent, not in the
present, not psychical.

" The chief argument against contents," Mr. Russell once
said, " is the difficulty of discovering them introspectively " ; l
and it seems often to be supposed that whoever speaks of the
content of a mental state is speaking of something purely
hypothetical, of which there can be no .direct experience.
But, in Meinong's sense of the term ' content,' it would be
nearer the truth to say that ' contents ' are the only things
which we do discover introspectively. For mental states can
become known to us introspectively not as mere bare states
or processes, but only as specific states, — the awareness of a
blue colour, for example, as contrasted with the awareness
of a pain or the awareness of a wraat. And if it be contended
that the common element, awareness, can, in all such cases,
be distinguished from the specific elements, the reply is, *' no
doubt it can ; but only in the way in which the common
characteristic ' human ' can be distinguished from the more
specific elements that belong to particular individual men —
that is, by an act of deliberate abstraction." Now, whatever
else it is, an act of introspection is certainly not an act of
deliberate abstraction ; and whoever is on the search for
mental states apart from their contents, or for ' contents '
apart from the states whose contents they are, may well find
that of either or both he can find no trace.'2 That, however,

1 Monist, vol. xxiv., 1914, p. 452.

2 As an interesting illustration, it seems worth while to mention that,
after having for a long time been assured of the existence of ' mental acts '
(cf , e.g., Problems of Phil., p. 65) and altogether sceptical of 'contents,'

20 G. DAWES HICKS:

is due to the fact that he has been looking for something
which no one ever supposed to be there.

(b) Throughout the Hume-Studien, Meinong had evidently
been proceeding on the assumption that relations must be
regarded as products of mental activity. They might indeed
be thought of as ' carried over ' into the physical world ; but
their essentially subjective character was not thereby called
in question. It is in the article which appeared in 1891 1 on
Ehrenfels' view of Gestaltqualitdten that Meinong is to be
seen for the first time freeing himself from this assumption.
In that article he acknowledges that he had himself fallen
into the 'psychologist's fallacy' of thinking that, because a
psychical act is requisite for the apprehension of relations, it
is necessary that reflexion should be directed on psychical
states in order that relations should be presented. But he
had now come to see that from an empirical point of view
the attempt to conceive the presentation of a relation (such
as that between a colour and extension) as based upon the inner
perception of an act of comparison instead of upon the com-
pared elements themselves is wholly unnatural and contrary
to fact. More particularly is the futility of such an Umweg
apparent when it is pursued with respect to relations of com-
patibility. To suppose, in the case of the round square, that
it is not ' round ' and ' square ' but the ' presentation of
the round ' and the ' presentation of the square ' which are
judged to be incompatible is surely perverse and non-sensical.
No doubt, under certain conditions, these presentations may
be judged to be incompatible ; but ' round ' and ' square '
are found to be incompatible under the presupposition of like
space- and time-determinations, whereas, to show that the
corresponding presentations are incompatible, account would
have to be taken of their mode of connexion. In the book
that was published in 1907, in defence of the Gegenstands-
theorie,2 Meinong's rejection of the doctrine in question is
still more emphatic. The most radical form of the subjecti-
vist interpretation of the relations of likeness and difference
would be, he thinks, that which took the former to be the
possibility of confusing one thing with another, and the latter
to be the absence of that possibility. Now, it may be quite
true that likeness does really indicate the possibility of such

Mr. Russell is now persuaded of the existence of ' contents,' at least in
the case of memory and thought, and cannot discover anything correspond-
ing to acts (cf. Analysis of Mind, pp. 17-18 and 20-21.)

1 Zur Psychologie der Komplexionen und Relationen, G. A., i., p. 281 sqq.

2 Ueber die Stellung der Gegenstandstheorie im System der Wissen-
schqften, pp. 143-145.

THE PHILOSOPHICAL BESEAECHES OF MEINONG. 21

confusion ; bat little consideration is required to see that like-
ness only indicates and is not this possibility. In point of
fact, one sees this neither better nor otherwise than one sees
that a water-cart is not a mountain-tarn, or anything else
that is obvious. And the best proof that likeness is not
identical with ' to find like ' is simply what a direct inspection
of the two things yields. But an indirect proof can easily be
provided by the reflexion that red and orange (say) are still
like one another when they are not being compared. The
argument is carried further in the volume, published in 1906,
on the empirical bases of knowledge,1 where it is contended
that relations possess not only validity for what are there
designated ' pure objects ' but are transferable from the
phenomenal to the real. While, in reference to our appre-
hension of relations, the influence of subjectivity need not be
disputed, yet, it is argued, what we, as we are now constituted,
are capable of knowing a priori is in no way rendered dubious
through such subjectivity. We are justified, therefore, in
asserting that things in themselves are like or unlike, etc., on
precisely the same grounds as we are justified in asserting
that colours are.

IV.

The two steps to which I have been referring having once
been taken, the road to the elaboration of a Gegenstandstheorie
was a fairly straight one. The next stage of Meinong's
advance towards it consisted in his coming to recognise a class
of objects which he called " objects of higher order,"2 a con-
ception, now sufficiently familiar, which was in fact only a
further working out of the position that relations are objective
in character. Objects of this class were found to be charac-
terised by a want of independence, by a sort of incomplete-
ness, such, for example, as attaches to the object 'difference,'
if the attempt be made to isolate it from the differing terms.
These objects are built, so to speak, upon other objects as
their indispensable conditions, the latter being the inferiora
of the former, and the former the superior a of the latter.
The class of objects in question comprises not only relations
but also complexes ; and, in the case of complexes, the con-
stituents, as in this sense analogous to the terms of a relation,
play the part of inferiora. But a complex is more than a

1 Ueber die Erfahrungsgrundlagen unseres Wisscns, § 21 sqq.

2 Ueber Gegenstdnde hoherer Ordnung, G. A., ii. , p. 377 sqq. The
phrase was not, of course, a new one. Meinong points out that Fechner
had previously used it. But Lotze also spoke of Vorstellungen of higher
order (cf. Grundzuge der Fsychologie, iii. , § 2).

22 G. DAWES HICKS :

collection of its constituents; it is not composed merely of
a relation and its terms, for the terms in being related by
the relation are at the same time related to it ; and, although
this involves a regress, the regress is not a vicious one, and
so creates no difficulty.

The monograph just cited, published in 1899, may not
inappropriately be said to be a preliminary survey of the
ground which Meinong spent the last twenty years of his life
in exploring. The preliminary survey was, however, suffi-
cient to convince him of the enormous extent of the field.
By * metaphysics ' had usually been understood a comprehen-
sive science having for its aim to form a conception of the
nature and ultimate ground of the universe; and numerous
as the deceptive hopes that have been and are associated with
the name may be, it is our intellectual shortcoming and not the
idea of such a science upon which the blame for the deception
must rest. Yet, in spite of the universality of its scope,
metaphysics falls far short of being a science of objects.
With the whole of what exists it has, indeed, to do. But
the whole of what exists, including what has existed and
will exist, is infinitesimal when compared with the whole of
the objects of knowledge ; and the fact that this has been so
easily lost sight of is due, so Meinong avers, to that " prejudice
in favour of the real " which has driven us to the extravagance
of supposing that the non-real is something too trivial with
which to concern ourselves. How absurd this prejudice is
Meinong's preliminary survey had already made clear to
him. Among the objects of higher order, he had discovered
a great sub-division of " ideal objects " — objects which, to
use his phraseology, subsist (bestehen), and many of which
are of tremendous moment for what exists, but which
themselves can, in no case, either exist (existieren) or be
real (wirklich sein). Similarity and dissimilarity are, for
instance, objects of this kind ; they may subsist between
realities, but they are not themselves bits of reality. Never-
theless, that in knowing we are vitally interested in these
objects goes without saying. So, too, number does not
exist alongside of the counted things, supposing the latter
to be existents ; and things that do not exist may be counted.
Pure mathematics has in fact solely to do with ideal objects ;
and our "prejudice in favour of the real" leads here to the
extraordinary, although, of course, not explicitly recognised,
dilemma : Either that to which my knowing refers exists in
reality, or it exists at least 'in my presentation'. And the
very word 'ideal/ in defiance of its history, has come to
stand for the latter. What does not exist outside of us

THE PHILOSOPHICAL EESEAECHES OF MEINONG. 23

must at any rate exist within us — this we take involuntarily
for granted, and it seldom occurs to us to reflect how futile
and meaningless the subterfuge is.

Here, then, was a huge Gebiet, constituting, as it seemed
to Meinong, that of a new science, of which only one portion,
the department of mathematics, had hitherto had justice done
to it. Gegenstandstheorie he defines as the science of objects
as such, or of objects without limitation to the special class of
those that exist, and of these latter only in so far as their
nature (their Sosein), irrespective of their existence, is con-
cerned. It has to inquire, one might, borrowing a favourite
expression of Shadworth Hodgson's, say, what an object is
' known-as ' ; about its ' what ' and not about its ' that '. Or
it may be said to be the science of what can be known a priori
about objects, understanding a priori in the sense in which
Meinong uses the term.1

What is meant here by Gegenstand ? A formal definition is,
we are told, precluded, seeing that both genus and differentia
are wanting ; alles ist Gegenstand. But etymologically the
term gegenstelien furnishes, at least, an indirect characteristic.
This term has reference, namely, to the experiences through
which the Gegenstand is grasped or apprehended (erfasst),
the experiences, however, not being looked upon as in any
way constitutive for the Gegenstand. Every inner experience
(Erlebnis), at least every sufficiently elementary one, has an
object (Gegenstand}, and in so far as the experience comes to
expression, ordinarily in words and sentences, there stands
normally over against such expression a significance or
meaning (Bedeutung), and this is the object.2 In so far as
all objects in order to be known must be grasped or appre-
hended (erfassfy, it is true that what is grasped or appre-
hended (Erfasstes) and object are the same. What is
apprehended can, however, either be thought of as such or
only as object. In the former case, the relation in which the
object stands to the apprehending subject is thought of along
with it. Yet it is by no means necessary that it should be.
What is grasped or apprehended can be thought of merely as
object, for, not only is the relation in question not contained
in the thought of the object, it belongs in no way to the
nature of the object. Every object stands in relations to
other objects ; the fact that along with these relations there

1 Judgments are said by him to be a priori when they (a) are grounded
on the nature of their objects, (6) evince themselves as of self-evidencing
certainty, (c) hold necessarily, and (d) are independent of existence. See
Erfahrungsgrundlagen, p. 10.

*Cf. Ueber Annahmen, 2<* Aufl., p. 26.

24 G. DA WES HICKS:

is that of being apprehended by a subject gives to the object
the character of being an apprehended object, but not that
of being an object. An object can be when the presentation
by which it would be apprehended is not ; and it can likewise
not be when this presentation is.1

As the notion of object in general may in some measure
be determined from the point of view of apprehension,
so Meinong thinks the chief classes of objects may be char-
acterised by reference to the chief classes of apprehending ex-
periences (der erfassenden Erlebnisse). Accordingly, the four
main classes of experiences — presentation (vorstellen], think-
ing, feeling, and conation — may be said to have corresponding
to them the four classes of Gegenstdnde — Objects,2 Objectives,
Dignitatives, and Desideratives — only the peculiar character
of these objects must not be assumed to be first constituted
by the peculiar character of the experiences by which they are
apprehended.

(a) The various species of Objects may be brought to light
by different modes of division, but meanwhile I confine
attention to the division of them into those which exist,
those which subsist, and those which neither exist nor subsist.

That there are non-existent Objects — that is to say, Objects
which only subsist — Meinong took to be indisputable. No
one would assert that the difference between red and green
exists as tables and chairs exist ; but equally no one would
doubt the being of this difference. The difference between
red and green is not, it is true, seen as the colours are seen,
but then perception 3 is not requisite for its apprehension ;
from the nature of red and green it is manifest that they are
different.4 Difference is, in fact, a superius which discloses
itself in an a priori manner from the inferiora ; 5 it is
founded (fundiert) through its inferiora.

Meinong was likewise convinced that a class of non-
subsistent Objects must be recognised. Impossible Objects,
such as a round square, do not subsist, nevertheless they are
Objects, so that we seem driven to the apparent paradox of
asserting the being of that which has not being. Meinong's
position in this reference is a difficult one ; but, then, the
problem which he was here up against is extraordinarily

1 For several reasons, it is, I think, unfortunate that Meinong should have
used the term Gegenstand in this all-inclusive sense. If he had employed
the term ' being ' with the comprehensive denotation it has become cus-
tomary to give to it, he might have spoken of " entities" instead of
" objects," and of a science of entities instead of a Gegenstandstheorie.

2 When translating the German Objekt, I will use a capital O.

3 Meinong's view of perception I leave over for discussion.

4 C/., Erfahrungsgrundtagen, p. 5 sqq. 5See above, p. 21.

THE PHILOSOPHICAL RBSEABCHES OF MEINONG. 25

difficult. He tried, however, to meet the various objections
that were raised against his view. Little weight could, he
thought, be laid on the argument that the Objects which he
regarded as non-subsistent must, in truth, be subsistent,
seeing that they can be the subjects of true and therefore
subsistent propositions. For obviously it is an argument
which cannot be used by those who deny that there are non-
subsistent Objects. If, as a matter of fact, a kind of being
must belong to the round square, because subsistence cannot
be denied to certain propositions based upon it, that is an argu-
ment/or Objects such as a round square and not an argument
against them. And to Mr. Kussell's contention that the ad-
mission of impossible Objects involves denying the law of con-
tradiction (the round square can be asserted to be both round
and not round), his answer was that the law of contradiction
had never been asserted except of the actual and the possible,
and that whether it holds likewise of the impossible requires
at least special scrutiny.1 Meinong saw, at all events, that
the problem is a real one and faced it seriously, whereas
usually it is conveniently thrust aside as though it were no
problem at all.

There is, however, a further difficulty with respect to this
class of objects, about which I should like to say a few
words. It arises in reference to the first division of them, of
which I have not as yet spoken. What reason is there, on
the view Meinong was taking, for supposing that there are
Objects which not only subsist but exist ? Meinong himself
distinguished between these two kinds of being by pointing
out that what exists must exist at some definite period of
time, whereas what merely subsists is timeless, although
existence as such is as timeless as subsistence.2 And his
pupil Ameseder, who usually follows him closely, adds the
further differentiation that " that only is real (or existent)
which can operate causally ".3 Meinong certainly seems to
imply that sense-data (Empfindungsgegenstande) do not exist.
These ' homeless objects ' (so described because hitherto they
had formed part of the subject-matter of no science) are, he

1 Ueber die Stellung der Gegenstandatheorie, p. 16. In his review of this
book (MiND, N.S., xvi., p. 439), Mr. Russell urges that the reply "seems to
overlook the fact that it is of propositions (i.e., of 'Objectives' in
Meinong's terminology), not of subjects, that the law of contradiction is
asserted ". I do not see that Meiuong's remarks give countenance to this
supposition. He appears to me to be saying that to suppose that two con-
tradictory propositions can both be true may not be inadmissible when
their subjects are impossible Objects.

2CY., Ueber Aniiahmen, 2** Aufl. p. 75.

3 Untersuchunye7i zur Gegenstandstheorie, p. 79.

2(5 G. DA WES HICKS :

insists, neither mental nor physical. Colours, for example,
are not mental ; acts of seeing them are, of course, mental,
and so likewise are the contents of these acts ; but colours
are quite distinct from presentations of colours. Nor are
they physical ; their substitutes in the material world are
vibratory motions or modes of energy.1 Ameseder definitely
affirms that " since a colour is, like every other object of
sensation, not capable of operating causally, its being is not
existence". Every sensation, he contends, has a cause, but
this cause is never identical with what, through the sensation,
is apprehended. The cause is physical, or, at any rate, not
psychical ; what is apprehended through the sensation, the
sense-datum, is neither physical nor psychical, and is not
an existent.2 Sense-data, then, being excluded, what are
the existents that can be said to be Objects, in Meinong's
sense of Vorstellungsgegenstdnde ? As instances of existents,
Ameseder mentions a quantum of water and a psychical
process. But the water, as distinct from the sense-data
erroneously, as he thinks, ascribed to it, is not presented,
and can only be known, if at all, through perception, per-
ception being in Meinong's view always an act of judging.
Physical existents, one would gather, therefore, never can
be Objects (Objekte). And the same would appear to be
true of psychical processes, for they, too, according to the
theory, cannot be presented. So that it would seem as
though we were driven to the conclusion that for human
knowledge, at any rate, there are no existent Objects. It is
here, I think, that we come upon one of the weaknesses of
Meinong's doctrine of Vorstellungen.

(6) His view of Objectives has become sufficiently familiar
from Mr. Russell's discussions of it. If by a " proposition "
be meant not a form of words which expresses what is either
true or false, but that which is expressed by the form of
words, that which is true or false, an Objective is equivalent
to a proposition. Meinong himself preferred to say that a
sentence is an expression of an act of thinking (an act of
judging or assuming) and has a meaning; and that the
meaning is the Objective, i.e., the object of the act of
thought. Just as it is a characteristic of every Vorstellung
to present an Object, so it lies in the nature of every act of
thought to think an Objective. By employing the term
' Objective ' Meinong wished to emphasise that what is
judged or supposed is not an ideal construction on the part of

1 Ueber die Stellung der Gegenstandstheorie, pp. 8-9.

2 Untersuchungen zur Gegenstandstheorie, pp. 94 and 481-482.

THE PHILOSOPHICAL EESEAECHES OF MEINONG. 27

the mind ; that it is not the content of an act of thought any
more than a presented object is the content of a presentation ;
that it is what thought discovers and not what thought may be
supposed to make or manufacture. Objectives must clearly be
''objects of higher order," and as such they are founded
(fundiert} upon other objects — that is to say, either directly
or indirectly l upon Objects. Confining attention at present
to acts of judgment (i.e., omitting Annahmen), we may say
that the Objective is what is judged (ivas geurteilt wird), and
the Object what is judged about (was beurteiltwird). If, for
example, it be asserted that the fire is bright, the Objective is
"that the fire is bright," and this Objective is founded upon
the Objects " the fire " and " brightness ". Objectives are, of
course, incapable of existence, but only false Objectives are
incapable of subsistence. In his latest writings, Meinong was
in the habit of saying that every object has being (or non-
being) ; that there are, however, objects which not only have
being (in this widest sense) but also are being, and that these
are Objectives, while what has being, and is not being, is
thereby characterised as Object. Or, expressed otherwise,
Objectives attach to Objects, and Objects stand in Objectives.
What exactly is to be understood by the non-being of false
Objectives is, he admitted, a matter that requires investiga-
tion. Naming it meanwhile Aussersein, what remains un-
decided is whether this Aussersein is a determination of
being or whether it denotes simply deprivation of being.
The principle of Occam's razor and the circumstance that
Aussersein has no negative seemed to him to favour the
latter alternative, although he recognised the difficulty of the
position.2

Being, taken in the widest sense as that which comes
before us in every Objective, evinces itself either as being in
the narrower sense, expressed in the form "A is"; or as
being so-and-so (Sosein), "A is B " ; or as co-being (Mitseiri),
"If A, then B ". These correspond more or less to the dis-
tinctions recognised by traditional logic between so-called exis-
tential, categorical, and hypothetical judgments. [Whether
there is any class of Objectives corresponding to the dis-
junctive judgment of traditional logic Meinong considered to
be doubtful ; it would rather seem, he suggested, that we
have here to do with complexes of Objectives, such as may be

1 The Objective of one act of thought can, of course, be founded upon
:m Objective of another, e.g., 'it is certain that A is J3,' where what is
judged to be certain is neither A nor B but ' that A is B '.

2 The difficulty is not, of course, peculiar to Meinong's view. On no
theory, so far as I can see, has any satisfactory explanation been given of
what Meinong called "false Objectives".

28 G. DAWES HICKS :

met with in each of the three classes mentioned.] Since
both S.osein and Mitsein necessarily involve a bifurcation of
inferiora, these inferiora exhibit themselves in characteristic
relations — the relation of predication in the case of Sosein,
that of implication in the case of Mitsein. Sosein, again,
falls into the sub-divisions of Wassein (e.g., " the horse is a
mammal ") and Wiesein (e.g., " snow is white ") ; and Mitsein
appears to be differentiated into the cases where the inferiora
stand in an " if-relation " and those where they stand in a
" because-r elation ".

Meinong held further that the peculiarity of the being of
Objectives is manifested in nothing more decidedly than in
the modal qualities which, as he maintained, belong to it.
Actuality (Tatsdchlichkeit) ,x the quality of being a fact, can
be ascribed only to Objectives, or to other objects only in
a derivative sense. And, on purely empirical grounds, Mei-
nong was convinced that when we are thinking of the
factual character of an Objective we need not be thinking of
the certainty and evidence in the judgment which grasps it.
Certainty and evidence are subjective characteristics, — the
one belonging to the act of judging and the other to its
content; and, although we may come to be aware of the
factual character of an Objective by reflecting on the
certainty and evidence of the judgment, we are usually
aware of it by direct inspection. Possibility is, so to speak,
actuality of a lower grade, actuality is the maximum of
possibility ; so that the various degrees of possibility might
be represented on a line the opposite ends of which would be
actuality and non-actuality. So, too, necessity is a charac-
teristic of many Objectives, a characteristic which is grasped,
Meinong maintained, by what he called rational evidence, but
which is in no sense constituted thereby. The characteristic
of necessity, when it belongs to an Objective, is knowable in
the most direct and immediate way;2 it is given as some-
thing essentially positive, so that the interpretation of it as
the inconceivability of the opposite is ruled out on this
account alone. Not only so. Necessity cannot be taken to
be an enhanced degree of actuality, as the latter is an en-
hanced degree of possibility, for actuality does not admit of
enhancement. And, on the other hand, it is, in strictness,
no less absurd to speak of a decrease of necessity, out of
which decrease actuality could, as it were, result. For even

1 If Tatsachlichkeit be rendered here by ' actuality,' actuality must not
of course be taken to signify existence.

2 Cf. the opening pages of Erfahrungsgrundlagen.

3 Ueber MogliMeit und Wahrscheinlichkeit, p. 122 sqq.

THE PHILOSOPHICAL EESEAECHES OF MBINOKG. 29

within the region of merely possible Objectives necessity is
likewise to be found.3

(c and d.) Presentation and thought are, however, far
from being the only means by which, as Meinong conceived,
objects (Gegenstdnde) can be experienced by a conscious mind.
No doubt the capacity of feeling as a medium of knowledge
falls a long way behind that of presentation. Yet when, for
instance, we pronounce a degree of warmth to be pleasant,
it is easily seen, he urged, how utterly foreign it would be to
experience to interpret the quality pleasant as being an ex-
perienced feeling produced in us by the warmth. So, too, he
contended, the heavens are called beautiful in no other sense
than that in which they are called blue, save that the ex-
perience (Erlebnis) through which the former of these qualities
comes to recognition does not play in the inner life merely
the part of being a mode of grasping or apprehending. But,
all the same, it does play that part ; and, consequently, there
stand over against the feelings special kinds of objects, pre-
cisely as there do over against presentations and thoughts.
These objects are always objects of higher order ; and are,
therefore, akin to Objectives. Meinong distinguished four
classes of feelings — namely, those accompanying (i) the act of
presentation, (ii) its content, (iii) the act of thought, and (iv)
its content ; and he tried to show that to each of these a
specific kind of object could be correlated — namely, the
qualities pleasant, beautiful, true, and good (provided that
not only a cognitive but a feeling significance be ascribed to
the term ' true '). These values, then, are distinctively objects
(e.g., when we say ' this ornament is pretty ' we imply that it
deserves to please, that it is worthy of being regarded as
pleasure-giving) ; they are grasped through or by means of
experiences, as all other objects are, but in their essence they
are independent of such experiences ; and as such they are
what he designated Dignitatives. So, too, in desire, that
which is desired is grasped through or by means of the con-
tent of the act of desiring, but it is not constituted thereby.
To this class of Desideratives, may be reckoned objects that
fall under the heads of Sollen and ZwecJc.

In the manner I have thus tried briefly to sketch, Meinong
contrived to map out broadly the province of Gegenstands-
theorie, and to carry out in several of its departments re-
searches of a far-reaching kind. It may be objected that a
province of these dimensions must certainly be co-extensive
with the whole of philosophy, if not with the whole of know-
ledge. Meinong thought otherwise. It is clearly possible,
he maintained, to deal separately with the general properties

30 G. DA WES HICKS : MEINONG'S PHILOSOPHICAL EESEAKCHES.

of objects, to consider what can be ascertained a priori from
their nature, without reference to their existence or non-ex-
istence. So regarded, it seemed to him that Gegenstands-
theorie belongs to philosophy as an essential part of it ; and
that it in no way encroaches upon those parts of philosophy
already recognised. That his investigation of its problems
led him to important inquiries in other fields, particularly in
the fields of psychology and the theory of knowledge, I shall
try to show in a second article.

(To be continued.)

IL— CONCERNING "TRANSCENDENCE" AND
"BIFURCATION".

BY KOY WOOD SELLARS.

AT the present moment, a division in the ranks of realism of
major significance is making itself increasingly apparent. On
the one hand, we have the advocates of neo-realism, which
is a form of naive realism ; on the other, the protagonists of
critical realism. Both groups agree on the primary principle
of realism that the object of knowledge is independent, as
regards its existence and nature, of the act of knowledge.
But they differ as to the location of the object and the char-
acter of knowledge. This difference is usually expressed by
the contrast between transcendence and immanence.1 The
critical realist holds that physical things and other minds
transcend the mind of the knower, while the neo-realist is
convinced that they are directly given to his mind.

It is impossible to make this contrast accurate apart from
detailed statements of the meaning given to such terms as
mind and experience. But I feel that I can take it 1'or
granted that the difference between the two groups in this
respect is well known. The neo-realist accepts a compresence
of knower and known in the cognitive experience and thus
makes experience literally include subject and object. The
critical realist, on the contrary, denies that the existent which
is made the object of knowledge can be brought into the field
of experience.

This contrast may be expressed by the terms epistemo-
logical dualism and epistemological monism; and, again, by
the distinction between knowledge as apprehension and know-
ledge as a claim made for ideas, a reference of ideas or pre-
dicates to an affirmed, transcendent existent.

The distinctive feature of critical realism is, accordingly,
its defence of transcendence and correspondence in the face
of the unanimous opposition of neo-realism, pragmatism and

1 1 note that Prof. Perry has adopted this contrast in a recent review of
Essays in Critical Realism.

32 EOY WOOD SELLAES:

idealism. It claims to have made new analyses which justify
it in this rather daring stand. Those who really desire to
see philosophy advance will surely take the trouble to make
a serious effort to understand the critical realist and will not
content themselves with saying that the refutation of Locke's
copy theory has settled the question once for all.

In his recent Gifford Lectures, Prof. Alexander has devoted
a few pages to a criticism of the form which the doctrine of
a transcendent existent conditioning presentations has taken
with Stout and Kiilpe. I shall concern myself with my own
reaction to Alexander's arguments, leaving Stout to defend
himself.1

Alexander quotes Stout as follows : "we must assume that
the simplest datum of sense- perception from which the cogni-
tion of an external world can develop consists not merely in
a sensuous presentation, but in a sensuous presentation appre-
hended as conditioned by something other than itself ".2 To
this assertion he replies that the " reference is to the object,
that is to the presentation itself ; for the theory under con-
sideration the reference is to something beyond and behind
it". Now my own analysis is nearer Alexander's than
Stout's. I find two elements in perception, the affirmation
of an object and the appearance of that object. I do not find
this sense of conditioning to which Stout refers. But my
objection to Alexander's attitude is that he is satisfied with
immediate experience. But why should philosophy be any
more satisfied with immediate experience than is science?
For science, immediate experience is the point of departure
and not the conclusion. All facts must be taken into con-
sideration before the final synthesis is made. In all my
writings, I have argued that naive realism is the point of de-
parture and that reflexion breaks it down and forces us to
make the distinction between presentation, or datum, and
thing. I believe that this was Kiilpe's position, and I know
that it is the position of the American group. The distinction
we have, and there is nothing self-contradictory in it.

Now Alexander does not believe that reflexion forces us to
make this contrast, and he, therefore, remains a nai've realist.
For the subtle way in which he carries through the distinction
between object and thing I have the greatest admiration ; but
I am convinced that the facts of science indicate that the
datum, or content, of perception is subjective or bound up
with the percipient organism and that the various appear-

1 1 understand that Kiilpe's more constructive work is in process of pub-
lication under Messer's editorship.

2 Alexander, Space, Time and Deity, vol. ii., p. 96.

CONCERNING " TEANSCENDENCE " AND " BIFUECATION ". 33

ances of things cannot be harmonised without reference to
this fundamental condition.1

The desperate attemps which nai've realists make to meet
the traditional objections is clearly motivated by the belief
that the choice is between naive realism and idealism. The
assumption that a non-presentative theory of knowledge
cannot be carried through controls the direction of their
thought. The American new realists have acknowledged
this, and Alexander makes essentially the same confession on
page 98: "How can experience warrant a reference to
this something conditioning presentation which we never
have experienced and which is only a symbol for the non-
mental? . . . But the supposed condition of presentation
cannot be further known for it is not known at all." But is
this not to assume that knowledge must be a presentation or
an experiencing? It is at this point that dogma enters.
Certainly, knowledge must be based upon experience ; but
what right has any thinker to assert that the thing known
must be given in experience, must be an existential component
of experience ?

Critical realism is an attempt to devolop a non-presentative
view of knowledge. It seems advisable to use this negative
phrase at the beginning in order to avoid the historical
associations which a term like " representative " inevitably
has. But, first of all, let me insist that there are different
kinds of knowledge. There is knowledge of what is immanent
in experience such as ideal objects, sense-data, feelings, etc. ;
and there is knowledge of what is transcendent to the in-
dividual knower. Without the first, we could not have the
second. There are, of course, many points of interest in
regard to the first kind of knowledge but I must neglect them
for the sake of concentration upon the second kind of know-
ledge, which has so often been denied and misunderstood —
denied, I believe, because misunderstood.

One reason for this misunderstanding of non-presentative
knowledge was the confusion of epistemology with meta-
physics so long prevalent. Epistemologicai dualism was
associated with metaphysical dualism and was actually hope-
lessly entangled with such assumptions as "mind and
matter" and "substratum with inherent qualities". Let
it be borne in mind, therefore, that the critical realist is
concerning himself with the individual's knowledge of
objects in his environment which are obviously not himself

1 This is quite obviously not the place to go into details in criticism of
naive realism. May I refer to my examination of it in Critical Realism >
ch. i., and to Drake's arguments in Essays in Critical Realism ?

3

34 EOY WOOD SELLAKS:

and yet not in another world in any metaphysical sense. To
use Whitehead's terminology, the critical realist maintains
that the " situation " of sense-objects is the percipient event,
the body of the percipient, the nervous system, while the
" situation" of physical objects is in the extra-bodily event.
I shall try to show later that this reflective assignment does
not involve either "bifurcation " or Aristotle's view of matter.
With Whitehead's philosophy of nature I have almost com-
plete sympathy but I do think that it can be separated from
naive realism.1

Lockian realism is a thwarted naive realism controlled by
scholastic metaphysics. There is in it no adequate attempt
to reinterpret the act and content of knowledge. He is con-
vinced that the physical thing and the ideas in the " mind "
of the percipient cannot be identical, that the situation of the
latter is not that of the former ; but his stress upon causal
relations leads him to forget the knowledge-claim and to fall
back on a mere statement of partial likeness. In my own
essay in our co-operative volume I have tried to explain this
point. Thus, though an epistemological dualist, I can heartily
agree with Whitehead when he says that science concerns
itself with nature as known. But is not nature a condition
of its being known ? We must supplement the physiological
theory of perception with an analysis of knowledge and its
claims, and that is what Locke failed to do in any adequate
way. Even for Whitehead, knowledge is an ultimate claim
and mystery. He simply knows that "nature is what we are
aware of in perception ".

The critical realist holds that he finds the act of knowledge,
whether at the level of perception or of critical scientific judg-
ment, is a claim to grasp in some measure the character and
relations of its object. Now this object is, as Stout holds, the
condition of the presentation in perception but knowledge does
not directly concern itself with that fact but with affirming
and grasping its object. The two things must not be confused.
They do not contradict each other ; they are simply different.

The difference between naive and critical realism as theories
of knowledge is accordingly this : naive realism believes that
the object affirmed or referred to is given — existentially or
literally given in the field of experience — while the critical
realist holds that the object to which his organism is re-
sponding and which he affirms is not so given but that the

1 May I in this connexion state that my Evolutionary Naturalism which
has been so long delayed in the press will come out this Fall ?

2 No critical realist has a naive, substantialistic, soul-like idea of mind.
It is a term for operations and contents with specific situations.

presentation which is given is both instinctively and re-
flectively assigned to the object. It is the cognitive reaching
out to or grasping of the object which the critical realist
stresses. And he believes that a cognitive grasping by means
of characters or universals is valid, that it is what we do, and
that it is the only thing we can do. In other words, his
position is a flat challenging of the dogma that knowledge
must be a presentation of the thing itself.

While we are analysing knowledge and pointing out the
difference between Lockianism and critical realism, another
fact needs emphasis. There is not in the immediate know-
ledge-claim the absurd attempt to compare idea and object.
I do not find in the knowledge-claim anything but predications
about the thing which is the object of reference or, at the
level of perception, assignment of characters to the thing.
And yet this comparison notion was one absurdity for which
non-presentative realism was discarded in that dogmatic and
blind way that is so common that it will be hard to get a fair
hearing for critical realism. The mistake of Locke, who had
not really analysed the knowledge-claim (note his definition
of knowledge as the perception of the agreement or disagree-
ment of two ideas), was fastened on, to the exclusion of other
possibilities. If we had both a cognitive idea and thing,
what would be the use of the idea ? And it must be
remembered that a cognitive idea as a part of a knowledge-
claim is quite different from a mere image as an object of
attention.

The act of knowledge is a distinct claim or assertion which
contains an idea or complex of universals as the content of
its assertion, as what is predicated of the object as that
object's character. Such a claim has its postulate and its
more or less instinctive basis. Its postulate — justified, I
think, by the situation of the percipient organism and the
guiding value of knowledge — is twofold : (1) the revealing
capacity of the presentational complex with its differential
pattern and (2) the ability of the mind to elicit by thought
the maximum of knowledge from this complex. The mind
discovers and quarries knowledge out of the material of
perceptual observation.

What can be revealed by the presentational complex?
Let me stress the fact that much of the objection to non-
presentative realism lay here. My answer will at least be
definite, and, I think, true. That will be revealed which cm
be reproduced. And the more that I reflect and the more I
study science, the more I am convinced that it is the deter-
minate order, structure and behaviour of the physical world

36 ROY WOOD SELLARS :

which is reproduced. It is a correspondence of static and
dynamic pattern in different media to the discovery of which
all sense-data and activities, like measurement, can act as
clues. We do not have here the idea of entitative likeness
of stuff against which Berkeley protested when he said that
a sensation could be like only a sensation, a view which
was inherent in the scholastic conception of properties in
a substratum. What we know, what is revealed, is the deter-
minate structure and behaviour of things and not attributes
in the old sense, whether primary or secondary. Thus our
theory of knowledge agrees with Whitehead's rejection of
the old substratum notion of matter while yet making all
sense-objects subjective together, that is, in the situation of
the percipient event, the organism. This is only a brief
indication of the entire reinterpretation of what knowledge
grasps and what is reproducible. It is the pattern of things
which is reproducible in experience, just as the structure of
an organ is reproduced by the histologist in wax. The
analogy is real, though the difference of medium must not
be overlooked.

My conception has been so inadequately grasped in the
past — largely my own fault, I have no doubt — that I wish to
be certain that I have at least made myself clear. My
fundamental concept is that there is between idea and thing
an identity of order and not of material. A thing is an
ordered material, and it is this order which may arise else-
where under its control with no identity of material. It is
a correspondence of pattern and not a likeness of stuff which
I have in mind. The difference between the old represent-
ative theory and my own can be indicated as follows :

X Substratum f I i i j

I— 4" — / / / Patterned thing
A B C D Primary qualities L J I I I

\ ' • ' f I /"™^™/^^"^r

resemble I I I I I (identity of

a I 'c d Ideas r~l — J I I pattern)

/ / / I J Patterned idea

/ / / / /

From this contrast, which could be still further developed
by bringing out behaviour as the temporal phase of pattern,
the marked difference in the conception of what knowledge

CONCEKNING- " TKANSCENDENCE " AND "BIFURCATION". 37

grasps comes out. We cannot grasp the stuff of our object
but only its form or pattern ; for the one can be reproduced
in the medium of experience, the other cannot, for it is the
existence of the thing. But I must not move too far into
my metaphysics.

Faulty as Locke's epistemology was, the nominalistic
psychology which succeeded it was still worse. Justice was
not done to thought, to distinctions and to cognitive refer-
ences. And the harm was done. It was not until practically
the twentieth century that realism again raised its head.
And then nai've realism rather than the more subtle critical
realism was path-breaking.

But we must press on to defend transcendence, a notion
which, as we saw, distinguishes the critical realist from all
other schools of philosophy. First of all, let us point out that
the term " object " is ambiguous. When Whitehead states
that nature is what we are aware of in perception, he is both
right and wrong. The terms "what" and " aware" need
analysis. In perception, reflexion forces us to make dis-
tinctions which make explicit what is already implicit.
" What " breaks up into object and its content or appearance ;
" aware " breaks up into reference and consciousness of datum
or appearance. Thus the critical realist is quite willing to
say that nature is what he is aware of; but he holds the
situation to be more complex than does the nai've realist.
Let us call the datum the object of intuition or what is given
(no mystical idea of intuition is assumed), and the physical
existent the object of perception, the thing to which the
organism is responding and adjusting itself. The point is
that, in perception, this external object of selective behaviour
is affirmed and automatically interpreted in terms of the
datum or object of intuition. It is this apparent coalescence
or identity of object of intuition and object of organic ad-
justment which furnishes the unanalysed point of departure
and strength of na'ive realism.

Because of this identification of object of intuition and
object of adjustment, without which consciousness could
have no guiding value, philosophy has assumed that an
object must be given in experience. But the truth is that
only the datum, or object of intuition is given. The auto-
matic coalescence or identification of the two kinds of objects
has misled philosophy. A physical thing is an object only in
the sense that it is made an object by the percipient organism.
That is what object means in this case. By its very nature
and situation it is outside the individual's experience-complex,
though not outside the reach of knowledge as a claim or

38 ROY WOOD SELLABS :

reference. The object of intuition, the datum, the appearance
is within experience. Once this distinction is thoroughly
grasped, it will be seen that there is no contradiction in the
thought of a transcendent object. The object of the per-
cipient organism is by its very nature transcendent, that is,
other than the organism. Perception is the natural identifi-
cation of object of intuition and object of response, or the
assignment of the one object to the other. Is the critical
realist making a new and more adequate analysis here than
has been done in the past ? I am persuaded that he is.

The existent which is selected as the object of reference
has its own determinate nature. It is a patterned or ordered
stuff. What character has the cognitive idea to enable it to
give knowledge of the object? I have argued that there is a
reproduced identity of pattern or order in the dimensions of
space and time. There is thus an identity between cognitive
idea and object, an identity of understood pattern with the
pattern of the physical existent. Put in other words, the
applicability of universals to the object is validated by this
identity. Since one member of the two terms is a complex
of logical characters or meanings, the identity itself may be
spoken of as a logical identity. But it must be remembered
that the object is reproduced only with respect to its deter-
minations and not existentially. To know a thing is not to
have the thing itself with its energies and creative activities
in the mind. Knowledge is as near to the thing as we can
get and is very valuable, but by its very situation and nature
falls short of being.

To guard against misunderstanding, I would emphasise
the fact that the data of perception assigned so automatically
to the object are rather the material for critical knowledge
which can employ all of it as the point of departure for
mature critical judgment.

When I assert that critical realism involves epistemological
dualism, I do so with my own critical notion of epistemo-
logical dualism in mind. In the act of knowledge, the ex-
istence of the idea is disregarded, only its content is held
before the attention. Yet reflexion must admit that the
idea which grasps the determinations of the object through
identity is yet existentially distinct from the object. This
existential distinctness forces us to speak of correspondence,
for in correspondence we have the two elements of numerical
difference and logical identity. But let us remember that in
knowledge the idea means the object and does not linger on
itself. We say that a thing is composed of cells, is of a
certain size, behaves in a certain way, etc. In knowledge,

there is no bifurcation and yet the data are in the situation
of the percipient event.

The mistake to be avoided is to think of something as pass-
ing back and forth between mind and thing. Aristotelianism
was not free from this mistake. There was, also, in Aris-
totelianism a tendency to metaphysical dualism between form
and matter. Both of these mistakes are quite unnecessary.
Form or pattern as against matter is a part within the whole
or, better yet because more complete, a logical distinction
and not an ontological entity. Yet because of its historical
associations in scholastic philosophy, I am inclined to fight
shy of the term " essence ".

While I have in this paper attacked Prof. Whitehead's
epistemology, I am no friend of bifurcation for either science
or metaphysics. But what, on an incomplete analysis, may
seem to involve bifurcation may not actually do so. I think
that I have pointed out enough to make it clear that none of
the bifurcative positions he attacks is identical with critical
realism. Prof. Whitehead extrudes mind from nature in a
very hasty fashion. Practically no philosopher on this side
of the water, be he pragmatist, new realist or critical realist,
would assert with Prof. Whitehead that action upon mind is
not action in nature. Mind is not alien. It is the nervous
system. And the nature known in perception is identical
with the nature which is one condition of the sense-objects
by means of which we know it. But let me hasten to add
that with the aim of Prof. Whitehead I have nothing but
agreement. The task of science is correctly put as the dis-
cussion of " the relations inter se of things known, abstracted
from the bare fact that they are known ". And yet a philo-
sophy of nature can hardly be separated from an epistemology.
There will be quirks in it which will reflect the assumptions
made.

III.— DR. WILDON CARR AND LORD HALDANE
ON SCIENTIFIC RELATIVITY.

BY J. E. TURNEB.

BOTH Dr. Carr and Lord Haldane appear to draw far too
heavily upon the scientific theory of relativity as an argument
for the philosophic principle. In this respect Einstein's
recent statement that " there was nothing specially, certainly
nothing intentionally, philosophical about it " L is highly
significant ; for it is extremely improbable that its philosophic
bearings should always, during his long investigation, have
been altogether absent from his mind ; and, further, such
speculative suggestions as he has advanced have taken a
wholly different direction.2

It is therefore, I think, fundamentally important to re-
cognise that the scientific theory in itself has at bottom very
little bearing on any form of the philosophic principle of
relativity; so little indeed that it is even doubtful that it "is
only an illustration of its application to a special subject,"3
moderate though this position is as compared with other
recent interpretations. For the scientific theory is concerned,
and is concerned only, with certain definitely limited aspects
of space and time — with what Einstein has called " an
analysis of the physical conceptions of time and space " 4—
a limitation which is, of course, perfectly legitimate from the
scientific standpoint, but which must none the less be
carefully borne in mind in any discussion of the theory's
philosophic implications. To pass from these "physical
conceptions" to the philosophical aspects of time and space
is to " cross the Rubicon " ; and much of the prevailing con-
fusion is due to the transition being undertaken as though it
were of no significance, so that what is true of the scientific
concepts is also regarded as true of time and space within
philosophy. Thus while Dr. Carr and Lord Haldane refer

1 JReport of lecture, Nature, 16th June, 1921, p. 504.

2 Cf. below, p. 45, n. 3.

3 Haldane, The Reign of Relativity, p. 34. Cf. p. 39.

4 The Theory of Relativity, p. 19. Cf. p. 23, "a definition of time in
physics ". (My italics.)

J. E. TUENEK : SCIENTIFIC EELATIVITY. 41

to them as distinguishable,1 neither appears adequately to
recognise the crucial importance of the distinction.

This impression is confirmed, I think, by a curiously inter-
esting passage in Einstein's Theory of Relativity. " We
entirely shun," he says, " the vague word space, of which,
we must honestly acknowledge, we cannot form the slightest
conception, and we replace it by motion relative to a prac-
tically rigid body of reference."2 It is difficult to appreciate
the exact value of this statement, because it is not strictly
adhered to by Einstein himself ; 3 it seems to me to indicate
his emphasis on the " physical interpretation of space and
time data " (p. 79), and his explicit exclusion of any wider
reference ; 4 which again warns us that in going beyond the
scientific field of enquiry we cannot interpret scientific con-
clusions without further analysis and qualification.

It is in consonance with this that Cunningham maintains
that " The principle is not a metaphysical doctrine based on
the supposition that it is impossible to conceive of an absolute
standard of position in space. Dynamical relativity is a
different thing from a statement as to what is within the
power of the mind to conceive about position and motion." 5
While therefore it may be true, it is irrelevant to the bearing
of scientific relativity upon philosophy to assert that " the
idea of an absolute motion is a metaphysical invention of the
school of classical mechanics," or that " absolute position,
shape, and measurement are all unmeaning " ; 6 for in so far
as " absolute entities " (or concepts) are criticised by Einstein
they are regarded not as metaphysically, but purely as physic-
ally, "absolute"; the "absolute time," e.g., of classical
mechanics is ''absolute," not metaphysically, but as "inde-
pendent of the position and the condition of motion of the

1 The Reign of Relativity, pp. 55, 59, 70. The Principle of Relativity,
chaps, i. and vii.

2 P. 9. My italics.

3 He speaks, e.g., of " relative orientation in space of co-ordinate systems "
(p. 32) ; " the law governing the gravitational field in space " (p. 64) ;
again, "space is a three-dimensional continuum" (p. 55) and "the
geometrical properties of space are determined by matter" (p. 113).

4 Cf., "In respect of its role in the equations of physics, though not
with regard to its physical significance, time is equivalent to the space-
co-ordinates (apart from the relations of reality)" ; Nature, 17th Feb.,
1921, p. 783. (Italics mine.) Similarly Cunningham, "Space and time
co-ordinates are only means of specifying a single fact or occurrence " ;
Relativity and the Electron Theory, 1st ed., p. 73. Einstein's later
remarks seem to me to convey a suspicion that his standpoint has been
misinterpreted philosophically.

5 Op. cit., pp. 2, 3.

(! The Reign of Relativity, pp. 55, 88.

42 J. E. TUKNEE :

system of co-ordinates " ; l here, as always, we are concerned
with " physical conceptions". And when (further) we limit
ourselves to these, we find that absolute standards can never
be completely dispensed with, inasmuch as the Eigenzeit
and Eigenraum of any given reference system are (for that
system) absolute and invariant.2

(1) From this general standpoint, which I think expresses
Einstein's meaning in saying there is nothing philosophical
about his Theory,3 it appears to me that throughout Dr.
Carr's .volume no adequate distinction is maintained between
space and time on the one hand and our systems of measur-
ing these entities on the other ; we are carried from the one
to the other without any sufficient indication of the vital
importance (for Philosophy) of the transition.

The Theory that the results of observations which involve
spatio-temporal measurements are conditioned by the velocity
of the observer,4 involves a limiting case which has been too
much disregarded in philosophic discussion — the instance, i.e.,
of observers in one reference system, who obtain, therefore,
identical results. This identity is of subordinate importance
to scientists, because it is comparatively free from mathe-
matical difficulties ; but philosophically it is extremely signi-
ficant, for two reasons. First, because it proves quite
definitely that those discordances in the content of our
experience, from which so many important philosophic
conclusions have recently been drawn, are due to nothing
except either (a) differences in the velocities — not of the ob-
servers, as conscious observers, but — of their physical systems
of reference, or (&) certain conditions (again physical)
whose nature, though as yet far from being understood,
nevertheless presents aspects which have abstract mathe-
matical equivalents.5

These discrepancies, therefore, while they certainly affect
most materially the detailed content of knowledge, can have
no bearing whatever on the nature of knowledge, or of ex-
perience, or of reality, in general and as such ; unless, i.e., we
are going to base our epistemology on the rate at which we
happen to be moving, or on gravitational potentials. And

1 The Theory of Relativity, p. 56. Cf. Dr. Carr, op. cit., p. 20, at foot.

2 Cf., "A law of such change which is independent of such relativity,"
Reign of Relativity, p. 98.

3 In accordance with Einstein's distinction between the scientific prin-
ciple, and the scientific theory of relativity (The Theory o/ Relativity, pp.
19, 40) I shall denote these by capitals, reserving "principle" for philo-
sophic and general usage.

4 And further by acceleration, which brings in gravitational phenomena.

5 Cf. Dr. Carr, op. cit., pp. 21-23.

DK. WILDON CARR AND LORD HALDANB ON RELATIVITY. 43

the second reason is that the identity in question constitutes
what (as I have already mentioned) all scientists accept as
11 absolute " — the invariable Eigenraumzeit of observers with
identical velocity.1

But this " absolute " has been quite unduly neglected in
recent philosophy, perhaps because of its predilection for that
form of original sin manifest in all thought — its relativity.
It is, however, at least as important as the variability arising
from a mere physical difference in velocity or in gravitational
field. It is (further) a simple logical consequence of these
premises that the varying results can be exactly correlated,
and the formulae of one observer transformed into those of
another. The entire situation is a natural (physical) result
of the finite velocity of light, allied with our physiological in-
capacity to receive stimuli more basal than light signals are ; 2
and it is easy to conceive conditions which would altogether
exclude scientific relativity. This would be the case if gravi-
tational impulses have infinite velocity,3 and if we could,
through a special sense-organ, directly perceive changes in
gravitational intensity.

Quite apart therefore from Einstein's or Cunningham's
assertions to the contrary, it is altogether irrelevant to main-
tain that " the particular concepts with which the principle
[Theory] of relativity deals — space, time and movement — are
metaphysical, and the essential concern of philosophy ".*
Obviously we have here, at the very outset, that transition
from "physical conceptions" to metaphysical which is, I
would submit, as yet unjustified and illegitimate.5 But there

1 Cf., " The absolute in Nature is not abolished by the " Theory, Nature,
17th Feb., 1921, p. 781. Also Prof. Eddington in MIND, April, 1920, p.
145, and Haldane, "change in standpoint gives no change in the actual " ;
op. cit., p. 402.

2 1 may be psrmitted to refer to the Journal of Philosophy, 14th April,
1921, where I have attempted a simplified presentation of the facts. Cf. also :
" The difficulties and paradoxes associated with temporal conceptions arise
from the finite velocity of propagation of all signals," Campbell, Physics:
The Elements, p. 552. "We have not taken account of the inaccuracy in-
volved by the finiteness of the velocity of light," Einstein, op. cit., p. 10.

3 This point is at the moment, I think, undecided.

4 Principle of Relativity, p. v. Cf., Prof. Kddington — "World- wide time
s a mathematical system according to arbitrary rules ; it has not any

structural — still less any metaphysical — significance " ; Nature, loc. cit.,
p. 804.

5 As this point is fundamental I may quote Einstein's own account of
the history of his Theory. " The entire development starts off from, and
is dominated by, the idea of Faraday and Maxwell, according to which all
physical processes involve a continuity of action." He proceeds to trace
the enquiry through a number of similarly scientific concepts which in-
clude "the physical significance of space and time " and " the assumption

44 J. E. TUBNEE :

is a further ground for the charge of irrelevance. Space,
time and movement are not the only concepts that are meta-
physical. Every ultimate concept is metaphysical ; matter,
energy, life, mind e.g., in science alone ; and the Theory of
relativity has no more (and of course no less) connexion with
any philosophic conclusions than has, e.g., the quantum theory
of energy or the method of chromosome division. It is il-
logical, if not actually erroneous, to argue that because the
Theory asserts that certain results based on spatio-temporal
measurements are relative, and because further time and
space are metaphysical, therefore philosophic relativity is
either substantiated or disproved. I am not here contending
either for, or against, philosophic relativity ; I merely urge
that scientific relativity has but the slightest possible bearing
on the question. Scientific relativity is concerned with
purely physical conditions; philosophic relativity with the
relation between mind and its content, or between mind and
reality, within which of course space, time and movement are
included. But if it be argued that this inclusion furnishes the
required connecting link, the obvious reply is that philosophic
relativity is not limited to these, but applies universally ; l the
Theory, therefore, restricted as it is to physical spatio-tem-
poral concepts, can have no direct bearing on the general
philosophic problem. It no more follows that because all
such concepts are physically relative, therefore time and
space are philosophically relative, than that because currency
systems are all relative, therefore value, as a metaphysical
concept, is also relative.2

(2) Dr. Carr advances other conclusions for which it is
extremely difficult to find any basis within scientific research
itself. He regards the advance from the special to the
general form of the Theory as a sufficient ground for sub-
jectivism. " The general principle [Theory] is acknowledged
to concern the most fundamental philosophical concepts of
the nature of the universe. The essence of it is to introduce

that simulbaneity has a meaning independent of the state of motion of the
system of co-ordinates used ". Similarly Cunningham states that Newton's
" space and time are natural products of Nature's laboratory, to be puri-
fied, perhaps, but not to be rejected as spurious ". Nature, loc. cit., pp.
782, 785. (My italics.) Cf. Dr. Carr, op. cit., p. 3, on "rejection of space
and time ".

1 This is the fundamental principle of Lord Haldane's volume.

2 The mathematicians whose work lies at the base of the Theory have
duly emphasised the essential distinction between space and time, and
spatio-temporal measurement systems. Cf. Journal of Philosophy, loc. cit.,
pp. 214, 215. Also Mach, Space and Geometry, pp. 97, 98.

DE. WILDON CAKR AND LORD HALDANE ON RELATIVITY. 45

subjectivism into physical science."1 I have already dealt
with the character of the concepts here concerned ; but
further, both the general and the special Theories rest on pre-
cisely the same basis. The former has no peculiar connexion
whatever with subjectivism or with the " mind of the ob-
server ".

The special Theory deals with uniform rectilinear motion ;
the general with rotational and accelerated — and therefore,
through the Principle of Equivalence, with gravitational —
motion.2 But in what possible sense can this theoretical ex-
pansion be regarded as introducing subjectivism into science ?
Accelerated motion is no more subjective than is uniform,
nor is the " mind of the observer " more in evidence when
gravitation operates than when it does not. And if it is
argued that all motion is subjective, or the mind always
active, the reply is (once again) that these comprehensive
statements are too comprehensive, and are quite unaffected
by any change in the scope of the Theory ; their truth or
falsity rests on altogether separate grounds. Even such
speculative suggestions as Einstein has put forward have not
the remotest connexion with subjectivism, but are strictly
limited to physical enquiries.3

Thus it is not the "mind of the observer " that is directly
concerned by either form of the Theory ; it is merely his
velocity, or rather the velocity (or its equivalent) of his
reference-system. Mind is not active in any unique way in
relativity investigation, and relativity as such therefore can
confer no new and original status on mind which it does not
possess already. I consider this point further in connexion
with co-ordination, passing meanwhile to the "independence "
of observations.

"It is impossible," continues Dr. Carr, "to abstract from
the mind of the observer and treat his observations as them-
selves absolute and independent in their objectivity " ; 4 thus
positing a relation between observations and the mind, the

1 Op. cit., p. 21. Cf.t p. 20, " introduction . . . of a subjective element ".

2 " Einstein asks us to consider the result of supposing that the dis-
tinction between centrifugal force and gravitational is not essential . . .
his principle of equivalence " (Cunningham, Nature, llth Dec., 1919,
p. 374). "The general form of relativity is founded on the equality of
inertial and gravitational mass " (Brose, Theory of Relativity, p. 21).
" Can gravitation and inertia be identical ? This question leads directly
to the General Theory" (Einstein, Nature, 17th Feb., 1921, p. 783).

3 "Is the spatial extent of the universe finite ? Is inertia to be traced
to mutual action with distant masses ? " are questions to be decided by
"a dynamical investigation of fixed stars " ; Nature, loc. cit., p. 784.

4 Op. cit., p. 21.

46 J. E. TURNER :

character of which has now been finally determined by the
Theory. But just as we have seen that the " absoluteness"
of time repudiated by the Theory is a purely physical
characteristic, so here the independence that is denied sub-
sists in no sense as between the mind and observations, but
rather — again a radically different matter — between our
scales and units and the observed phenomena.

" The whole relativity doctrine asserts that the measure
relations of the phenomena perceived are incapable of deter-
mination on any absolute scale, independent of the pheno-
mena themselves. The gravitational field must be included,
and must affect the measure relations in every physical
aspect " ; l or as Dr. Carr himself expresses this, but without
noting its fundamental implications, " it requires us to give
up the assumption of an absolute standard of reference for
the measurement of the velocity of a system ",2 It is there-
fore always the phenomena and the scales that are here
interdependent and relative — not mind and its observations
in any direct and unique sense characteristic of physical
relativity but absent in other cases.

(3) This consideration applies to some degree to Dr. Carr's
later elucidation of his general position in Nature* There
we find that the reference to mind, which he regards as
finally substantiated by relativity, takes the form not (it is
needless to say) of any crude subjectivism, but of " a power
inherent in the monads to co-ordinate ever-varying points of
view. By monads I mean minds as metaphysical reals."
And, while, with Dr. Carr, mind is for myself one — if not the
sole — clue to the nature of Keality, both as being the highest
concrete real of which we have direct experience, and in
virtue of what its actuality transcendentally implies, still I
fail to see that this belief derives any support from the
results of the relativity Theory. The co-ordinating activity
of mind remains what it was before ; it is merely the co-
ordinated material that is different, together, of course, with
the formula that make possible the higher accuracy of the
co-ordination. If we survey the whole of the subject matter,
this seems to me to be obvious. Gravitation, spectral
phenomena, planetary motion, electronic vibration — these
have all been already co-ordinated, and most efficiently co-
ordinated, by the human mind in virtue of its " inherent
power," whether that implies monadism or not. And now
this same "inherent power" is supplied with fundamentally

1 Cunningham, with reference to Riemann, Nature, 17th Feb., 1921,
p. 786.

2 Op. cit., p. 22. My italics. * Loc. cit., p. 810.

DR. WILDON CARR AND LOBD HALDANE ON EELATIVITT. 47

new data ; with new assumptions as to the velocity of light
and the possibilities of interpreting gravitational phenomena 1
and geometrical principles. But, epoch-making as this ad-
vance undoubtedly is, it in no way concerns the status of
mind in its advance to reality ; it merely corrects — funda-
mentally of course — the details of that conceptual content
which enables mind to apprehend objective reality.

(4) These considerations apply also to Lord Haldane's treat-
ment of the question, in spite of his explicit exclusion of all
subjectivism. Even on this important point his position, so
far as his brief references go, is somewhat obscure. Analysis
of his epistemology would show, I think, that his objectivism
is by no means firmly based. "Perception," he asserts, " is in
itself chaotic and formless. It is only by interpretation that
we recognise. . . . Into the results apparently yielded by
direct sense-awareness concepts have entered with trans-
forming power."2 But what is perception itself except
"interpretation"? — an "interpretation," further, which is
the result of the transformation of " direct sense-awareness "
by means of concepts. Lord Haldane almost seems to posit
two independent agencies, " sense-awareness " or " sensa-
tions,"3 and concepts — the latter acting on the former like

1 This particular point, though of subsidiary importance as within the
whole investigation, seems to me to have been more radically misunder-
stood than any other. I can see no grounds for the widespread opinion
that Einstein has explained — in any final sens; — gravitation; much less,
of course, explained it away; and this applies to "forces" in general.
" Einstein's theory, though it helps us to discover the laws according to
which phenomena occur, cannot lay claim to provide a mechanical ex-
planation of them " (Nature, 31st March, 1921, p. 134) ; it is, in brief,
descriptive rather than explanatory, although a precise description of
phenomena has, of course, the highest possible value. The calculation of
planetary motion is more accurate ; kinematical.y, gravitational motions
may be regarded as accelerations ; and gravitation energy and inertia
may become in the end identified. On this point Dr. Carr seems to me
to be somewhat misleading. He speaks (p. 11) of "contradictory de-
scriptions of movement " ; but the descriptions are not necessarily con-
tradictory ; they are merely alternatives, one of which is, for certain
limited purposes, preferable to the other. But there still remain " the
energy tensor of matter " (Einstein) and "world-mass" (Weyl) ; — reals,
i.e., that are non-mental, and therefore not the product of the "power
inherent in the monads to co-ordinate" (Carr). Philosophy, then, is
not yet committed to subjectivism, and the "objectivity of the universe "
is still something other than " the perception-actions of infinite individual
creative centres in mutual relation" (Carr, p. 162).

3 Op. cit., pp. 40, 119.

3 Cf. pp. 41, 46, 152 on "sensations," "direct sensation," "isolated
impressions". I think no serious theory of knowledge sets off from these.
Lord Haldane's general position here is curiously similar to Croce's
throughout his Logic.

48 J. E. TUKNEE:

an acid on a base ; whereas the truth seems to be that some
degree of " interpretation " is present from the very beginning
of experience — a conclusion, further, more in consonance
with his volume as a whole.1 If, again, "our world begins
in sentience. We distinguish our sensations in relations
of time and space. Object and subject are phases within a
mental process," 2 we approach, to say the least, perilously
near to a subjectivism whose barriers no transforming
concepts whatever will surmount. "I cannot get beyond
my own senses in immediate apprehension," affirms Lord
Haldane ; 3 always the crucial test of an epistemology is its
treatment of perception ; a subject to which I shall return in
connexion with observation and experiment.

This however is not the main issue, which concerns the
bearing of scientific upon philosophical relativity. I think
we find Lord Haldane's fundamental argument expressed in
the statements : " Space and time disappear as self-subsistent,
and in their place we get a plurality of relative systems.
(Einstein claims) to have deprived space and time of their
supposed characters as self-subsistent and uniform frame-
works of existence, belonging to an altogether non-mental
world. Spatial and temporal relations depend on the situa-
tions and conditions of observers. The character of space
and time is therefore purely relative, and so is their reality." 4

It appears to me that Lord Haldane's " therefore" here is
highly questionable, and that it is neither put forward by
Einstein himself nor established by Lord Haldane. If we
remember that time and space are for Einstein "physical
conceptions" — that time is for him "time interval" and
space " space interval (distance) " 5 while the " situations and
conditions " are throughout also physical — and if also time
and space are given their fuller philosophic significance,6 it is
obvious that this "therefore" is merely taken for granted.
We cannot pass thus directly from Einstein's physical con-
cepts to time and space in any philosophical sense ; and the
philosophic principle which Lord Haldane's volume through-
out maintains is true or false wholly independently of the
results of scientific relativity.

1 Cf. p. 155 on thought and feeling. 2 Ibid., pp. 158, 197.

3 Op. cit.t p. 155. 4 Ibid., pp. 39, 83, 88.

5 Theory of Relativity, p. 30. Cf. p. 28, " relativity of conception of
distance ".

6 Unless this is done Lord Haldane's chapters sink into a mere epitome
of Einstein, instead of an interpretation. This wider significance again is
placed beyond doubt by the passage just quoted — •" we distinguish sensa-
tions in relations of time and space" — which cannot, at that level, be
" physical conceptions ".

DK. WILDON CARR AND LORD HALDANE ON RELATIVITY. 49

For what is the essential issue here? It is that reality
must become known under concepts — that knowledge, or
experience, or mind, is " f oundational of reality"; and I fail
to see that scientific relativity has the slightest bearing upon
this principle. For it is not concerned with categories as
categories ; it introduces no new ones and it dispenses with
none of our earlier ones ; l it merely accepts the basal
categories of space and time and then renders more precise
their application to natural phenomena — corrects our measure-
ments of time and space intervals, our estimates of mass and
energy. If, at the outset of experience, "sensations present
themselves as we distinguish them, in relations of time and
space," then science, for its more special and limited purposes,
must presuppose them; but its increased accuracy in the
employment of its fundamental categories is altogether in-
dependent of their nature and validity as categories. Apart
from its refinement and exactitude scientific relativity has in
this respect no more philosophical importance than had — to
choose an extreme but emphatic instance — the transition
from the moons of our ancestors to our calendar months.

(5) The fallacy of any identification of time and space,
philosophically considered, with "physical conceptions " be-
comes further apparent if we view the question from a
different angle. This term, from the scientific standpoint,
is perfectly justifiable, since science is in the main concerned
with concepts. But if we take this to be unqualifiedly true,
and if we proceed to argue that space and time are solely
concepts, then our philosophy must (in this respect at least)
become a merely conceptual Idealism — a " ballet of bloodless
categories ". Science is preserved from this by its inseverable
connexion with perception. " The concept (simultaneous)"
remarks Einstein, " does not exist for the physicist until he
has the possibility of discovering whether or not it is fulfilled
in an actual case ... he can decide by experiment . . ." '
Upon this underlying perceptual basis concepts may be reared
as high as we choose, even until time and space are wholly
dispensed with ; 3 but they must, in some way or other, be
included within our original content. This indispensable

1 Unless every fresh mathematical refinement is a "category".

2 Theory of Relativity, p. 22. Cf.t "The introduction of mathematical
conceptions must be postponed as long as possible. Integration leads to
physically significant results only because it corresponds step by step to
some physical process " (Campbell, Physics : The Elements, pp. 422, 523 ;
also Nature, 17th Feb., 1921, p. 804).

8 ' ' This arrangement does not even need to be such that we must regard
xlt x2, x3 as space co-ordinates and x4 as a time co-ordinate" (Einstein
ibid., p. 94. Cf. Reign of Relativity, pp. 96, 97.)

4

50 J. E. TURNEE :

condition seems to be completely ignored by Lord Haldane.
Perception, we have already seen, is " chaotic and formless " ;
but further, " physics does not deal with bare sensations, but
mainly with the coincidences of events, coincidences which
are not immediately presented in experience " .l This state-
ment, as it stands, directly contradicts the very basis of the
Theory, whose primary object is to correlate with absolute
accuracy the coincidences immediately presented to per-
ception.2

This misinterpretation of the role of perception leads in the
end to a complete inversion of the structure of experience or
of reality, which thus becomes a pyramid poised upon its
apex. I have quoted already the passage (p. 197), "our
world begins in sentience. Our sensations present them-
selves ... in relations of time and space." But elsewhere
a wholly discrepant account of the development of knowledge
is given.3 Here we start with " bare awareness of change,
in which space and time have not yet been discriminated,
the activity out of which we build up our conceptions of
them. We approximate to intervals neither spatial nor
temporal (which) express what lies at the foundation on
which we build up our ideas of space and time as relations " ;
and thus "intervals, neither spatial nor temporal," intervene
between the primal sentience and the later spatio-temporal
relations. This seems to be a direct reversal of the actual
course of mathematical procedure, both historically and logic-
ally ; for this starts from concrete perceptual experience,
and reaches its non-spatio-temporal concepts simply by
carrying abstraction farther and farther. These concepts,
having been thus attained, certainly constitute a basis for
further construction. But to regard them as "the founda-
tion" from which "knowledge is rendered at a later stage
particular, by observation and experiment" (p. 98), is a
completely different thing ; it is merely to reverse the process
by which they were first of all obtained.4 This is evident
from the statement (p. 98), "the characters of the relations
which we call space and time arise from the movements of
bodies changing their situations . . ." ; for these aboriginal

1 Reign of Relativity, p. 47.

2 " Coincidence is the only exact mode of observation and lies ab the
bottom of all physical measurements " (Brose, Theory of Relativity, p. 14).
But in this connexion it seems to me that philosophy cannot altogether
disregard Einstein's treatment of truth (Theory of Relativity, pp. 2, 124).

3 P. 96. Abridged, but I think not distorted.

4 Prof. Eddington also seems to have adopted this fallacious method.
Cf. Journal of Philosophy, 21st Oct., 1920, p. 609.

DE. WILDON CAEK AND LOED HALDANE ON EELATIVITY. 51

" movements, bodies and situations " are either all implicitly
spatio-temporal or they are meaningless.

(6) An analogous misreading of the character of mathema-
tical abstraction dominates Lord Haldane's treatment of
gravitation and inertia, and leads him first to confuse with
one another two distinct principles of equivalence — (a) of
inertia and gravitation, and (6) of gravitational and accelerated
motion — and secondly to set up an unfounded contrast be-
tween Newton's first law of motion and Einstein's law of
gravitation.

The Principle of Equivalence proper holds true in itself only
as a purely kinematical abstraction ; it expresses an equiva-
lence (for certain purposes) of motions, and nothing more ;
or postulates " that phenomena in a field of gravitation and
in a field produced by acceleration of the observer" are
equivalent.1 It certainly does not justify the categorical
statements : "of force physicists know nothing. The notion
of force had lost meaning for physicists." 2 Such a view is
of course permissible, but it is not incontestably implied by
the general Theory, except, as I have said, as a kinematical
abstraction.

Dr. Campbell, e.g., denies "that force is properly regarded
as a derived magnitude at all ; it is fundamental, as volume
is fundamental " ; j while Einstein's references to forces are
frequent. Even in his classical illustration of " the man in
the chest," a "being begins pulling at this with a constant
force " ; 4 but Lord Haldane, in the parallel instance on page
89, ignores both the "being" and the force, and thus loses
sight of the essentially abstract character of the Principle,
which, with the indispensable "if," is clearly presented on
page 57.

But when we turn from this equivalence between gravita-
tional and accelerated motion to the equivalence — or (perhaps
better) identity — of gravitation and inertia, quite other con-
cepts are involved. To be strictly accurate we should speak,
to begin with, of gravitational and inertial mass ; and mass,
further, as interpreted in terms of energy.5 From this stand-
point their identity can, I venture to think, be established on

1 Ecldington, /Space, Time, and Gravitation, p. 212. Like all other
principles it has of course important implications.

2 Reign of Relativity, pp. 57, 89.

3 Physics : The Elements, p. 392.

4 Theory of Relativity, pp. 51, 67, 80. Nature, 17th Feb., 1921, p. 783.
Cf. Weyl, ibid., p. 801 : " pondero-motive force of the electro- magnetic
field ".

5 Einstein, Nature, ibid. Brose, op. cit., p. 21. Reign of Relativity,
p. 57.

52 J. E. TUENEE: SCIENTIFIC EELATIVITY.

general principles quite independently of scientific relativity.1
But whatever its true basis may be, it does not bring Newton's
law into conflict with Einstein's.

In the first place, Lord Haldane's explication of inertia is
seriously defective. This is, I think, the direct result of his
repudiation of force. But in any case it is inaccurate to say
that " a body remains at rest or goes on in the path in which
it is moving in continuation of its actual motion ".2 A body
remains at rest only when no force acts on it. I grant that
we do not understand the nature of force ; but that the state
of rest here involved is strictly conditioned cannot thus be
ignored. "Actual motion" again is continued only when
rectilinear and uniform and (once more) under the action of
no force. So that it is meaningless to say " acceleration . . .
may be regarded as due either to gravitation or to inertia ".3
Given a force, the acceleration is determined by the inertia, —
a case wholly different. " The same quality of a body
manifests itself according to circumstances as inertia or as
weight";4 but here Lord Haldane has left the "circum-
stances " out of account altogether.

Similarly there is no conflict, such as seems to be implied
on page 98, between Newton's law and Einstein's. Newton's
law holds in a Galilean domain, wherein " isolated material
points move uniformly and in straight lines " ; 5 and upon it,
as a foundation, Newton based his law of gravitation. This
now proves to be merely approximate, not because his first
law is not true, but because he did not anticipate that " al-
most all physical quantities are functions of velocity," 6 and
that therefore mass and distance vary with systems of
reference.

All this implies, finally, that what philosophy has to re-
cognise in scientific relativity is simply an increased degree
of accuracy due to the greater exactitude of physical concepts ;
which means, again, that little, if indeed anything, truly
metaphysical is in question at all. The established conclu-
sions of the Theory will contribute to the future Philosophy
of the universe ; but this involves neither a complete revolu-
tion in fundamental concepts, nor any substantial advance in
the Idealist view of experience and knowledge. " Change in
standpoint," once more, "gives no change in the actual ".

1 Mach has advanced a view of this kind, but I have not read his work.

2 Reign of Relativity, p. 89. s Ibid.

4 Cf. again the chest illustration, Theory of Relativity, chap, xx., and p.
65 ; also Reign of Relativity, p. 57.

5 Ibid., p. 100. 6 Richardson, Electron Theory of Matter, p. 322,

IV.— A THEORY OF PERSONALITY.

BY WlNCENTY LUTOSLAWSKI.

I. SELF AND PEESONALITY.

MY first elementary knowledge of myself, when I began to
distinguish myself from others, was the ordinary representa-
tion of a body moving in space, and animated by mind.
Mind and body, however, were not yet clearly distinguished
from each other, and activities of the mind were credited to
the body or to its parts, as when we speak usually of a feeling
heart or of a thinking brain. Many educated persons, and
even distinguished thinkers, if their thought is chiefly directed
towards material appearances, have no deeper knowledge of
themselves than children.

Moral pain, the habit of contemplation, and, to a certain
extent, also the study of the history of human thought and
action, have led me, like many others, to distinguish more
clearly the body from the mind, and to recognise the think-
ing and feeling subject from within as a spiritual being, as a
real thing, or as philosophers say, a substance, and as the
first original model of every conception of other existing
things.

The great difficulty of expressing in any foreign language
the particular conception of one's own reality has been ex-
perienced by those who, writing in English on Sanskrit
thought, used the term Atman, as having another meaning
than the Self, the Ego, the spirit, or the soul. In the Polish
language we have the peculiar term ja£n, which also has no
exact equivalent in English, though it may be rendered by
Self. Here I shall use the term Self in the meaning of the
Polish term, in order to avoid the introduction into an Eng-
lish text of a foreign word containing two letters unknown to
the English alphabet. But this Self, as I understand it, is
much less abstract than the Self of English writers or the
Atman of Sanskrit thinkers. It is the full reality of a con-
scious subject, with all his thoughts, feelings, wishes, and

54 WINCENTT LUTOSLAWSKi:

perceptions. All these contents of consciousness are events
happening in me, in my own Self, not in my body, though I
perceive appearances through the organs of my senses, and
though I may will and produce external events in the material
world of appearances, perceived through the senses. I remain
myself despite all the variations of the contents of my con-
sciousness.

A further step in the development of my knowledge of my-
self was the absolute and indestructible certainty of the inevi-
table persistence of my Self after the dissolution of my body.
This certainty is different from mere beliefs as well as from
inferences obtained by discursive reasoning. Belief in im-
mortality is based on the personal testimony of those who
know somehow that they are immortal. This knowledge is
not similar to any other knowledge of facts or relations. In
my experience, as in the spiritual experience of many others,
it has been a sudden revelation (egatyvrjs, Plato, Symp., 210e),
coming after years of mere thinking on this matter, and of
believing the testimony of others. I knew at that time (1885)
most of the arguments for immortality advanced by thinkers
and believers. But they did not then appear to me to be
definitively convincing. Suddenly came immediate intuitive
certainty, with the evidence of mathematical axioms, and it
came to stay. My certainty that I am and shall be, whatever
happens to my body or my mind, since it came, has never dis-
appeared for a single moment, neither in the waking state,
nor in dreams, neither in health, nor in illness.

I know from books that this sudden discovery of the ab-
solute existence of one's Self as a Being independent of the
body has been made by many others. If it is genuine it leads
to a permanent and continuous consciousness of one's inde-
structibility. It has been called by the Polish philosopher,
Wroriski, autocr Nation, as it starts a new relation to one's
body and mind, different from the mental attitude of the vast
majority of men having mere beliefs, or endeavouring to
reach a knowledge of real existence by reasoning.

In 1894 I had a conversation on this subject with Prof.
Henry Sidgwick, who was so much impressed by my attitude,
that he attempted to give to the readers of MIND (October,
1894) an account of this talk (A Dialogue on Time and Com-
mon Sense). But he admits himself that when he tried to
write down this talk he had forgotten too much of it, so that
he had to allow imagination to supplement the defects of
memory " trying to preserve the general attitude of our minds
towards each other ". But to me his account of my attitude
proves that he did not understand me at all, and I was amazed

A THEORY OF PERSONALITY. 55

at the possibility of such a complete misunderstanding.1 If
such a highly intelligent thinker as Henry Sidgwick, with
his wide learning, could not understand a very common
young man, full of his discovery of concrete real existence,
then there is no hope of a general recognition of this experi-
ence, limited as it is to a minority of psychologists and theo-
logians.

The majority of my readers will consider my discovery as
a subjective illusion. But a persistent illusion, which lasts
throughout life, is at least a psychological fact, and deserves
the attention even of those who never had it. There is a
great difference between the mental attitude of those who
have such an absolute and lasting certainty of their own ex-
istence— (it seems to have been reached already by many dis-
ciples of Pythagoras and Plato) — and those who have no
such certainty.

However rare this certainty is, it is not yet the last stage
in the development of the intuitive knowledge of one's Self.
The final consecration of this continuous and permanent con-
sciousness of one's real existence is the further discovery of
our pre-existence. Pre-existence does not follow as a rational
consequence from immortality. Many believers in immortality
shrink from pre-existence as from a terrible heresy. Argu-
ments in favour of pre-existence are less decisive than the
usual proofs of immortality. There is a widely spread preju-
dice that pre-existence has been condemned by the Roman
Church, and the great majority of Catholic priests believe in
this condemnation, for which, however, I could not obtain
any proof from the most eminent professors of the Catholic
universities of Louvain and Fribourg.

For me the subjective certainty of pre-existence is parallel
to the certainty of immortality, and it is not a conclusion
from any line of argument. I know that I have existed be-
fore this life, either on earth as man, or elsewhere in similar
conditions. This knowledge is for me not less evident than
any mathematical axiom, and needs no proof. It is the
foundation for many other convictions, and the explanation
of many difficulties ; it does not contain the slightest difficulty
for my mind. I reached this certainty later than the certainty
of immortality, but since I reached it, more than thirty years
ago, I have never lost it for a single moment. And so far
as I know the number of those who share this certainty is
rapidly growing on earth. All the great Polish poets and
thinkers during the nineteenth century had it : Wroriski,

1 He did not even understand that it was not fair to call a Pole ft
Russian professor because he taught at a Russian university.

56 WINCENTY LUTOSLAWSTU:

Cieszkowski, Trentowski, Towiariski, Mickiewicz, Krasiriski,
Slowacki, Goszczynski, Wyspianski — to mention only the
greatest.

My eternal existence as a true Self has its experimental
limitations owing to my close connexion with a body. It is
not certain that a Self must always be incarnated in a body,
but it is highly probable that each human being has experi-
enced many incarnations. The incarnated Self lives in a set
of conditions ; and personality implies the sum of these con-
ditions. A person is an incarnated Self considered in all its
relations to the external world and to its own past and
destiny. A person owning body and mind depends for the
conditions of its existence on the total heredity of the chosen
body and on the acquired experience of the incarnated Self.
Whatever I have ever had as contents of my consciousness
may be under certain circumstances recalled to my memory ;
and, even when forgotten, the past experience of my Self has
an influence on my present state and on my ability to feel,
to think and to act in a certain way, which characterises my
individuality. Thus my actual condition is due to a double
line of influences : the succession of bodies from which
descends my body, and the succession of mental states which
my Self has experienced in past incarnations.

The Self is not by itself a person : it is only so in given condi-
tions of dependence on a part of the external world, with the
possibility of influence on the immediate environment. The
person has therefore not the same permanent identity of
substance as the Self. Each Self creates by incarnation a
succession of persons. Even within one incarnation, despite
the continuity of one and the same body, the same Self can
create different successive persons, like an actor who plays
different characters on the stage of a theatre. Something of
this kind happens in real life whenever an act of will or an
external influence causes a thorough change in the personal
conditions. Thus a girl sometimes completely changes her
personality by marriage, especially if she marries very much
above her rank, or if she gives up a creative original activity
in order to devote herself to her husband and her children.
She remains the same Self, but many personal conditions,
as for instance name, wealth and position, are changed.

Not all the personal conditions of the same Self can be thus
changed within one incarnation. For instance we cannot
change our physical sex, nor can a thoroughly stupid person
become clever or wise. A great poet like Dante or Shakes-
peare could not easily become a truly great statesman, though
both have said many true things on statesmanship. We

A THEORY OF PERSONALITY. 57

liave seen recently an eminent Polish musician fail completely
when he attempted to rule his country as Poland's Prime
Minister. Sometimes the same man succeeds in living several
different lives in the same incarnation, as for instance a gifted
painter who during the war became a famous general.

Personal existence has a variety of conditions which deter-
mine the activity of the Self. The classification and defi-
nition of these conditions or marks of personality is an
important problem of metaphysics, and if we wish to under-
stand thoroughly personal existence we must distinguish what
depends on the essential quality of the Self from what is
given to that Self by its particular place in space and time
and by its relations to other Selves and persons. A com-
plete characterisation of a person is only possible if we are
able to enumerate all the conditions or relations which cause
this person to differ from all other persons. Therefore we
have to ask what makes human beings different from each
other and how many kinds of human existence are possible ?
'The answer to this question will lead us to understand the
causes which determine the individual destiny of each Self
in each incarnation and the succession of different persons
animated by the identical Self.

A correct classification of human conditions or of the marks
•of human personality has, besides its mataphysical import-
ance, also moral and social applications. It enables us, for
instance, to judge the value of the current doctrine of class
warfare. Whether workmen and capitalists are really
different classes of mankind depends on what principle of
classification we adopt and what differences we consider as
the most important.

The conditions of personal existence depend either on the
Self and its past experience or on the body and its inherit-
ance. They may be permanent, as for instance sex, or
variable as for instance age, wealth, and health. Some of
them appear to be innate, as for instance genius, other con-
ditions seem to be the goal of many efforts, as for instance
education, or moral perfection.

A great variety of opinions is possible on the subject of the
true classification of men, based on the distinction of the
real conditions or marks of personality. I fail to find in
English a quite convenient term to design these qualities or
conditions of personal existence and I do not remember any
attempt at their complete enumeration, definition, and classi-
fication. Whenever I have asked anybody in how many
ways a human being may differ from others I have noticed
:fchat this probJem has escaped the attention of the students

58 WINCENTY LUTOSLAWSKI :

of human life. If I am mistaken, I shall be very grateful for
the indication of such investigations. My own classification
of sixteen chief marks of personality will be the final outcome
of this inquiry into the meaning which each particular mark,
condition or quality has for individual destiny.

II. SEX AS A MAEK OF PEBSONALITY.

The most obvious difference between human beings con-
sidered in their variety is the difference of Sex; the first
question to be asked about a person whose conditions of life
we wish to understand thoroughly, is whether it is a man or
a woman. A general theory of personality must therefore
explain the true meaning of sex.

At first sight it might appear that the whole difference of
sex depends only on the shape and function of the organs of
reproduction. Reproduction being one of the many functions
of life and not inevitable in every individual life, it would seem
that sexual difference is not essential, as many human beings
live without ever using their organs of reproduction and with-
out even being aware of them. When I pray or study, I seem
to be simply a human being, neither man nor woman. The
most properly human activities are common to both sexes.
There is not a single thought, no kind of emotion, no ideal of
human activity, which could not be common to persons of both
sexes ; and every possible experience of one sex can be fully
understood and assimilated by the other sex. The very
existence of reproduction can be entirely forgotten for weeks,
months, and years by those who are engaged in intense in-
tellectual work or in spiritual contemplation of the highest
realities.

From such a point of view the sexual difference seems to
disappear, or to be of the same secondary importance as any
other purely physical difference — for instance, the difference
of height or weight or muscular strength. For certain special
purposes all these differences are very important, but they are
not essential in the sense of a general classification of the
marks of human personality. Is not sex also such a difference,
which is only important for a special purpose, that of repro-
duction ? We may ask besides whether reproduction has to
be looked upon as an absolute and general necessity or merely
as a temporary remedy for the imperfection and decay of our
bodies, due to an ancient calamity known as the fall of man
or original sin in our religious tradition ?

Such questions might arise if we limit our knowledge of
sex to the facts of reproduction, which in themselves are not

A THEOEY OF PERSONALITY. 59

peculiarly human, as there is such a close analogy between
the reproduction of human beings and that of animals. But
outside the narrow limits of biology there is a vast field of
sexual experience which is properly human and we cannot
fathom the mystery of sex without referring to that wider
spiritual experience. One of the most manly men in human
history, Dante, met a woman a few times in his life, and
described his experience in his Vita Nuova. Much later,
towards the close of his life, in the ripest and greatest of his
works, he still considers Beatrice as more closely related to
him than his wife, by whom he had several children. His
marriage appears to him, when he speaks to the world at
large and to the most remote posterity in his immortal poem,
as an infidelity against his first love.

This contrast between the spiritual reality of love and the
material link of marriage is not an isolated experience
peculiar to the great Italian poet. It permeates the whole
of human life and literature and it shows that sexual ex-
perience is by no means limited to the facts of copulation
and reproduction.

Moreover, on the highest plane of spiritual life, in the
mystic experience of the immediate contact of men and
women with their Creator, again the sexual difference mani-
fests its power, even when we compare the confessions of
men and women so closely related to each other as, for
instance, Theresa of Avila and John of the Cross. Both
being equally indifferent to physiological reproduction they
still remain male and female, and every page written by one
or the other of these great Carmelites is easily recognised as
masculine or feminine. Both agree with Solomon and other
mystics in their habit of using images taken from sexual love
in order to explain their mystic experience of divine love.

If we look at the widest range of sexual experience, in-
cluding not only what has found an expression in literature
or art, but also the infinite variety of individual destinies
shaped by sexual relations or impressions, if we take into
consideration that there are many other sexual relations
than the intercourse between lovers or between husband and
wife, then we are led to the conclusion that sexual onesided-
ness is one of the most fundamental limitations of Self, con-
stituting its personality, and that every human being remains
under the spell of this strange onesidedness throughout life,
even though he be entirely unaware of it.

The body being an expression of the soul, a symbol of
spiritual reality, the bodily sexual difference corresponds to a
fundamental spiritual difference and cannot be limited to the

60 WINCENTY LTJTOSLAWSKI :

single function of reproduction. If our knowledge of the
human body were deeper, even a single hair taken from any
part of the body would betray the sex of the person to whom
it belonged. The difference between the organs of repro-
duction is only more evident and known because we have
had special motives to study it. But every other organ in
the human body will manifest its sexual character when
physiological investigation has gone far enough. For the
present we are unable to define these sexual differences
otherwise than, perhaps, by certain averages of the dimen-
sions of the whole body and its parts. Every dimension may
be found in both sexes, but the average will be different for
each sex.

In order to reach a definition of the spiritual aspect of
sexual difference we have first to decide whether we consider
this difference as a permanent state of the innermost Self, or
as only a condition resulting from incarnation. Am I a
man because my pre-existent and immortal Self received
from my parents a masculine body, or have I myself built
a masculine body out of the matter furnished by my parents,
because I am a masculine Self? And if I am a masculine
Self, is this masculinity something that can never be changed,
or only a passing phase of my spiritual existence ?

Such questions are not likely to be asked by everybody.
Most men do not care to know such things or they do not
admit the possibility of such knowledge. Most of us have
not even a clear reminiscence of onr own past lives and it is
still more difficult to ascertain the past lives of others. With-
out such a memory how could we pretend to know the
eternal destiny of our Selves and the mystery of sexual
differences in body and mind ?

We must here follow the same method as in every other
investigation of reality. Every science is based on intuitive
guesses which are verified by some kind of objective experi-
ence. Conformity with the experience of our senses is the
test of physical hypothesis. But there is a vast field of
spiritual experience not less evident than the experience of
the senses. Dante's love of Beatrice was to him a fact not
less than the colour of her eyes, though everybody could see
the colour of those eyes, while very few men can understand
such a love or have themselves experienced similar feelings.

It is true that only very few human beings obtain an
absolute certainty, first, of their immortality, then of their
pre-existence, and finally of their sexual destiny. But an
intuitive certainty as to their sexual past is possible for those
who earnestly strive to know the truth about themselves. I

A THEOKY OF PERSONALITY. 61

know for certain, and with the same degree of unchanging
certainty as I know of my immortality and pre-existence,
that my actual masculine sex is not imposed upon me from
without by the conditions of my conception in this particular
incarnation. It is my own work and corresponds to a pre-
existent state of my own Self, which, however, was not
always the same ; and I know that in my eternal past I have
experienced both sexes, though certainly not in such alter-
nation that after each masculine life a feminine life should
be the rule. I do not know whether I need ever be a woman
again, but I am certain that I have been many times a
woman. There is nothing in the life of woman totally
foreign to my own Self.

Such a subjective certainty is a psychological fact which,
as the testimony of a single individual, might be a personal
illusion. But if it is a genuine and spontaneous certainty it
is as permanent throughout life, when once reached, as the
similar certainties of immortality and pre-existence.

I distinguish the genuine experience of such certainties
from the ordinary belief in the testimony of others. Such
beliefs are opinions which may be imparted to suggestible
people but also lost by them. The genuine intuition is a
permanent acquisition reached by meditation and contempla-
tion which reveal to us the mystery of our own real being.
A definite knowledge of one's self is the metaphysical explan-
ation of the possibility of every other knowledge of anything
else, and it stands as open as the evidence of the senses to
all those who seriously endeavour to attain it. For those
who have no such experience the testimony of one who has
it is simply a hypothesis which can be tested by the wider
objective experience of sexual life.

Let us, therefore, formulate this general hypothesis which
will help us to account for the facts of sexual life. Each Self
experiences alternately, in phases which last much longer
than any single human life, two opposite spiritual states
which within our earthly existence manifest themselves in
bodies of opposite sex. These alternate phases of the spirit
follow each other according to an inward determination, as
the consequence of some original deviation from equilibrium,
like the oscillations of a pendulum. This original deviation
is what is called the fall of man. It has been brought about
by ourselves. At each stage we may be more or less distant
from equilibrium, and the process which tends towards the
opposite state goes on during incarnation, so that a male
spirit, having built a male body, may in its inward growth
during the same incarnation reach spiritual femininity, and

62 WINCENTY LUTOSLAWSKI:

the reverse. This explains how it happens that we know
women with a male spirit and men similar to women.

The difference of sex is known to us by intimate experience
and cannot be stated in terms of any other order. There is
no virtue or vice peculiar to one sex exclusively of the other ;
whatever can be said of men or women in general will in
particular cases apply to the opposite sex. Even the defini-
tion of masculinity as predominance of activity or of femi-
ninity as predominance of receptivity will not exactly fit all
the individual cases. There are very active women and very
passive men. Neither is courage the monopoly of man nor
purity the privilege of woman, though great courage is more
frequent among men and perfect purity among women. The
tendency to define sex by something else or to explain the
sexual difference by a combination of other qualities is not
compatible with a full and clear understanding that sex is a
fundamental mark of personality, rooted in an essential state
of the incarnating spirit.

The sexes are really different and opposite classes of man-
kind. There is an agelong opposition between them and a
real warfare, the most genuine class warfare in human life.
The predominance of muscular strength in primitive social
conditions has kept women terrified and enslaved. Every
growth of civilisation means emancipation of women from
sheer masculine brutality and increases their influence on
social and political life. Women, when they have obtained
in every respect equality of opportunities and of rights, will
still remain women and they will not avail themselves of all
their victories. For ages they have freely devoted more time
and industry to music and still they have not produced a
single musical composer equal to the greatest male musicians.
Even the most feminine musical genius (Chopin) has taken
a male body for his incarnation. If our parliaments were
filled with ladies, it is not likely that a great statesman
would arise out of their ranks. Whenever a spirit comes to
this life with original creative faculties, he appears as a male.
Genius is essentially masculine and even great talent is found
oftener in men than in women. We might explain this by the
actual social condition of mankind, in which men still prevail.

If, however, there is somewhere a world ruled by women,
it is not at all likely to follow the masculine fancy of Aris-
tophanes. On the contrary such a world would be probably
a better world than ours. * Women generally are better than
men. They are less selfish ; but they have also less in them
of their own and they need fecundation in body and mind by
men.

A THEOEY OF PEESONALITY. G3

Sexual attraction between men and women, from the
lowest concupiscence and carnal passion to the highest per-
fection of pure love, works for the diminution of sexual one-
sidedness. Carnality exhausts itself in man by loss of virility,
in women by maternity, in both sexes by disease resulting
from wrong indulgence. In love the lovers impregnate each
other with their opposite sexuality. Men acquire the feelings
of women and women masculine capacities. Widows have
often continued the work of their deceased husbands.

In the long struggle between the sexes there is one great
feminine victory due to Christianity : the ideal of indissoluble
marriage. If two beings of opposite sex, with the full under-
standing of what it means, join each other in a truly indissol-
uble union, they acquire a peculiar sexual experience, not
accessible to those who marry on the understanding that they
may divorce. Dissoluble unions are inferior, not only morally
but also in the sense of mutual absolute possession (and
complete satisfaction of all the senses), to true indissoluble
marriage.

The modern agitation in favour of divorce is a misguided
aspiration towards the same ideal of indissoluble marriage.
People want to dissolve such unions as are not true marriages,
in order to enable everybody to meet the true partner for a
really indissoluble marriage. But they are not aware that
by overthrowing the public sanction of absolute indissolu-
bility they destroy precisely what they desire to obtain. A
divorced woman can never fully believe in the definitive
character of a new union, as those believe who take the risk
of a solemn affirmation and obligation of indissolubility,
without any possible recourse to law in order to justify or
mend their mistakes.

The indissolubility of marriage was unknown in pagan
antiquity. There remains even now a higher stage of in-
dissolubility to be reached,- beyond the claims of the Christian
Church. The Church sanctions a kind of polygamy in the
successive marriages of widows and widowers. Strict mono-
gamy and absolute indissolubility would give only one wife to
each husband in each life, as death should not be considered
a motive for divorce. We may go even one step further and
imagine the same feminine Self associated as wife to the same
masculine Self in successive lives. Finally such a close and
eternal relation of two spirits might exist that they should
have been to each other alternately husband or wife in
successive incarnations.

This is the logical development of the ideal of strict mono-
gamy and absolute indissolubility of marriage. Such a lasting

64 WINCBNTY LUTOSLAWSKI:

link explains the perfection of certain marriages. A truly in-
dissoluble marriage excludes not only every infidelity, even
previous to the first meeting of the lovers, or posterior to the
death of one of them, but also every quarrel or serious dis-
sension. If such a perfectly indissoluble union did not exist
on earth, it would still remain the dream of all true lovers.
They wish to share mutually all their thoughts and feelings,
to guess rightly each other's minds, and to meet naturally
and spontaneously each other's wishes. Such perfect love
has not only been imagined by poets, it is the final goal of
human sexual experience.

But the more we progress in this direction of absolute per-
fection of love and indissolubility of marriage, the less can we
expect such spiritual realities to be governed by external
legislation or enforced by the decrees of our judges. The law
cannot ensure love, and divorce legislation cannot annul truly
indissoluble marriage.

With the increasing perfection of social life public opinion
will esteem more and more those who commit no mistakes in
their sexual choice. But those unhappy beings who have
not yet reached such a level of sexual discrimination will in
such a society be able to get rid of insupportable partners
without shocking proceedings, by mutual consent and the
tacit acquiescence of the wise.

We cannot expect such an acquiescence as long as the
mistakes are frequent and the consequences cruel to children
and other innocent victims in a still very imperfect society.
We are responsible for all the consequences of our mistakes.
In each particular case many things should be carefully con-
sidered before the parents of a child dare to deprive it of all
that the common life of a family implies.

Endurance of an imperfect union may be the best prepara-
tion for the final discovery of the right partner in a future
incarnation. Those who have once made a mistake are
particularly liable to commit other mistakes and therefore no
safer advice can be given to them than the exhortation to
endure what they have brought upon themselves. Those few
who are certain of having discovered their true and definitive
destiny will neither ask advice nor listen to it.

The doctrine of counterparts, as attributed to Aristophanes
by Plato in the Symposium and later popularised by Sweden-
borg and Thomas Lake Harris, is not a passing fancy. It
has returned again and again with obstinate insistence since
the tale of Tristan and Isolde was first told. Its consequences
are very serious ; for, if each of us has only one true counter-
part, we are bound to give up every other union, whatever

A THEORY OF PEESONALITY. 65

the consequences may be to us or to others. This is the
romantic conception of love, justifying every breach of the
law and every infidelity to pledged faith.

On the other hand, if love is not such a transcendental and
absolute reality, if true marriage depends on the mutual good-
will of any two persons who understand the rules of the game,
then there is no need to break any existing bond as long as
we can improve it, and it would be silly to hope that a future
union will be happier at the cost of an avowed past failure.
This is the classical doctrine which condemns the romantic
view as a perverse invention of the evil spirit. Social peace
and moral order seem to be safer in an un romantic world,
where the stability of sexual unions does not run the risk of
sudden revelations which overthrow every existing link and
obligation .

According to the current view the classical doctrine is
Christian and romantic madness is pagan. But the original
classical marriage of Greek or Hebrew antiquity has been
always essentially dissoluble, while indissolubility has been
introduced into the marriage laws by Christianity ; and it is
nothing else than the legal expression of the romantic craving
for absolute union. Romantic love is the spiritual justification
of Christian marriage. Christianity has established as uni-
versal law what had been the highest voluntary experience
of exceptional lovers. The fulfilment of the Christian law is
humanly possible only under the condition of romantic love.
The miracle of such a love has been discovered by mediaeval
poets and confirmed by such enthusiasts as Swedenborg or
Thomas Lake Harris. A single example of positive ex-
perience is more decisive than thousands of failures which
appear to contradict such experience. Two lovers who are
certain that they were made by God for each other and for
nobody else, are more reliable witnesses than any number of
Don Juans who have sought their counterpart in vain and
have still gone on believing in final success against their
own experience.

But even if we grant that such reliable witnesses exist,
their testimony does not justify a sweeping generalisation.
They may be very rare exceptions and are likely to be such
exceptions, for perfect love can exist only between perfect
beings at a very high stage of personal development. Such
perfect beings will not easily break existing obligations even
if they have made a mistake in marrying the wrong person.

For the generality of mankind there is nothing lost if every-
body endures what he has brought upon himself by his own free
decision. Those exceptional beings who are fit to have a true

5

66 WINCENTY LUTOSLAWSKI:

counterpart are not likely to be deceived by rash decisions
into unholy unions or they will find a way out of such a wrong
union without doing harm to anybody.

Thus we can conciliate the classical and the romantic view
of love and marriage. Classical marriage, if faithfully kept,
prepares romantic love in a future incarnation, or is the out-
ward form of an existing romantic love.

The difference of sex influences also other human relations
besides love and marriage, namely friendship, fatherhood,
motherhood, and brotherhood. There is the possibility of
pure friendship between persons of different sex, which will
not lead to exclusive love and will still be a feeling different
from friendship between persons of the same sex. The full
growth of such friendships free from temptations appears to
be conditioned by the experience of true exclusive love which
feels no jealousy. Only those who have found their love can
peacefully enjoy innocent friendships with the other sex.
Otherwise every such friendship is threatened by the sudden
revelation of love which spoils its purity.

The real differentiation of sexual love and sexual friendship
presupposes the emancipation from superficial sensual attach-
ments which are not exclusive. There is a succession of
degrees in sexual experience which starts by animal carnality
and ends in true love distinguished from pure sexual friend-
ship. That so many men still disbelieve in such friendship
proves only that they are equally ignorant of true exclusive
love and see in every woman a possible mistress.

The relation between father and daughter or mother and
son implies true friendship and something besides which is
sexual fatherhood and sexual motherhood. A father loves
his daughter otherwise than his son, but such a differentiation
of sexual feelings is the ripe fruit of a long growth of the
.soul.

Also the relation between brother and sister differs from
ihe brotherhood prevailing between persons of the same sex.
No definition of these feelings is possible and very few in-
dividuals experience them fully. They are not a necessary
consequence of the common origin of two persons from the
same parents, as physiological brotherhood does not necessar-
ily imply spiritual brotherhood, and this last is possible also
without consanguinity.

The influence of sex permeates not only all personal
relations between persons of different sex, but also every
manifestation of human activity. Men and women are able
to do the same things in a different way and we require a
wide experience of life with a deep consciousness of sex to

A THEORY OF PEESONALITY. 67

appreciate this diversity, which confirms the hypothesis that
sexual difference has its root in a pre-existent state of the
Self and not in the structure of our bodies.

The form of the body is a symbolic expression of those
spiritual realities which appear as masculine expansion and
feminine receptivity, or virile strength and virginal beauty.
There are degrees of sexuality in body and mind and a person
may be more or less manly or womanly, in spirit as well as
in the body. The body does not always correspond exactly
to the spirit, because we have such bodies as are the expression
of our spirit at the time of conception, with the limitations
imposed by the chosen ancestry. The spirit builds the body
out of the blood furnished by the parents and every builder
is hampered by the imperfection of the materials used.

Conception depends on a peculiar relation of three spirits,
those of the parents and the incarnating Self. Only when
true love unites the parents can a Self of the highest kind
accept their body. Imperfect unions of selfish and carnal
people furnish the opportunity for the incarnation of lower
spirits. The emotional and spiritual attitude of the parents
towards each other and towards God in their union has a
greater influence on the character of their children than
physical heredity. Parents who are aware of this may
attract towards their bodies by humble prayer and faith, in
unselfish devotion, the highest kind of incarnating spirits,
who come down on earth not because they crave for sensual
life, but because they wish and intend to serve and to help
others by improving the conditions of human life on earth.

This incarnation of the highest spirits, of men of genius
and of Saints, has been usually worked unconsciously by
pious parents united in true love and guided by higher
inspiration. Conscious striving for such a fecundation trans-
forms deeply the marriage relation and may be considered as
the highest human Art, as it calls into being not images or
symbols like the other arts, but living persons, incarnated
spirits. They receive a strong and beautiful body from their
loving parents and they give them heavenly bliss ; for there
is no joy greater than the rejoicing of a father or a mother at
their children's attainments, if their whole life was directed
towards this goal.

How such a result can be obtained those who are united in
a consciously indissoluble union for mutual help towards
ideal perfection learn easily by claiming boldly from above
the necessary inspiration and acting up to the light which is
never denied to them. They will be guided from step to step
in their endeavours ; and every pair of lovers entering this

68 WINCENTY LTJTOSLAWSKI : A THEORY OF PEESONALITY.

noble competition will be amply rewarded for their unselfish
devotion and their repudiation of vulgar gratifications.

If our human sexual life is thus explained by the con-
ception of a spiritual sexuality pre-existing to its bodily
expression, there arises the difficulty of explaining how
it is possible that sexual life extends beyond and below
humanity, while we cannot credit animals with the spiritu-
ality of human loves. Sexual life in beings lower than man-
kind seems to throw a singular light on human sexual life
which in external appearances sometimes resembles closely
that of lower animals.

The only way out of this difficulty is the supposition that
what we know as the evolution from the lower to the higher
forms of the body is not a primitive process, but a con-
sequence of a previous fall of the spirit. Thus though, in the
history of our earth, life seems to have risen from animality
to humanity, humanity is older in the universe than animality
and there is truth in the tradition that the creation of angels
has preceded the creation of man.

Therefore we are right in interpreting the sexuality of
animals by human sexual experience, not the reverse. In
every fecundation a spirit precedes the body and is builder
of the body. The sexual difference in the animal world has
the same fundamental meaning as in the human world, only
heredity dominates much more the generation of animals,
without excluding the possibility of feelings and strivings in
animal consciousness which are akin to human experience
and imply an obscure tendency towards the recovery of the
lost equilibrium, a tendency which is at the bottom of the
mystery of sexual differentiation.

The future equilibrium, as the last goal, need not be the
same as the lost equilibrium or the starting point of sexual
life. In this future equilibrium sexual difference may still
persist ; and the Catholic cult of the Virgin, which is also a
manifestation of sexual consciousness in the believers, would
thus find its justification.

Sex would be then the result of a felix culpa, which, how-
ever, for its atonement does not require the annulment of
this duality of being, which is known to us as sexual life.
The mere onesidedness of sex may be overcome otherwise
than by the monotony of asexuality and the whole of human
sexual experience would then appear as a device of God for
the gradual extinction of our selfishness by showing us in the
opposite sex an object of our most immediate and spon-
taneous love.

V.— DISCUSSION.
THE MEANING OF 'MEANING'.

DB. SCHILLEB'S reply in the October MIND to my discussion in the
July issue contains a number of misunderstandings and misstate-
ments of my views which I feel it my duty to correct.

(1) I did not say that, in looking for the * I,' what my " attention
really fastens on is some obscure bodily sensation — if not the
tension in his head muscles, then the rush of blood in his arteries " :
I said this is what Dr. Schiller's attention really fastens on when
he thinks he has immediate experience of * activity ' — in this
following James. For me, the ' I ' is not one datum or feature of
experience among others; it is all experience de-objectified. In
perceiving, that is, a sensuous state (of sound, taste, smell, vision)
is used as the sign of an object ; it conveys the object only in the
form of a ' meaning ' ; and it does so because we adopt the motor
attitude appropriate to the object. Now at the moment of per-
ception, being intent on this meaning, we cannot be aware of the
sensuous state. That it existed at that moment, however, we
learn in retrospection, when we consider that the meaning was
brought before us only by the sensuous state used as a sign — in
other words, that the apparent existence of the object was really
the existence of the sensuous state or ' I '.

(2) Nothing could be more untrue, then, than to say that I
make the ego an " illusion " ; it is rather those who look for it in
some single feature of consciousness, such as ' activity,' who are
in danger of making it an illusion. Dr. Schiller says that ' activity '
is not an observable object : but then what is his empirical evidence
for it? Does he distinguish between things that are observable
objects and things that are merely experienced ? An ego that is a
sensuous state can be found — in retrospection as the ego, and even
in perception as the apparent existence of the object. Or is the
fact to which he refers our general grasp of the situation, our
sense of our total meaning, conceived as one and directive? I
would point out that this is a sense — i.e. it has a sensuous state,
however vague and difficult to classify, as its vehicle, and so
conforms to my theory of the ego. I wish I could feel sure that
Dr. Schiller is not trying to re-establish that conception of con-
sciousness as a * pigment ' or ' menstruum ' which James con-
demned in his article 'Does "Consciousness" Exist?' He seems
to me to be drifting back from the strictly empirical psychology of
James to something like a spiritualistic psychology.

70 C. A. STKONG :

(3) Nor can I admit that my sensationalist ' I ' is less truly
active than his quasi-spiritualist ' I '. Sensuous states, on my
theory, are efficacious (it is only given-essences or ' meanings ' that
are not so) ; a motor attitude is necessary to constitute cognition, and
to make the sensuous state convey a meaning ; the ' I,' considered
with reference to its consequences, is will : what excuse there is
for labelling me an ' intellectualist ' and a contemner of activity,.
I am unable to see. Unless it be that I do not let the will
co-operate in determining the content of knowledge, but wish
cognition to show me the universe as it is.

(4) Dr. Schiller says I consider only one case of meaning,
" that in which an ' object ' is said to ' mean so-and-so,' " and that
I do not derive ' personal ' meaning. The case I consider is not
that in which an object means something else, but that in which I
mean an object — as I have to do in order to think of it. How
meaning can be more personal than this, I should like him to
explain.

It may not be amiss to recall here that James discussed this
question of the nature of meaning, in an article called ' A World of
Pure Experience ' (reprinted' in Essays in Radical Empiricism),
and developed a theory very similar to that which I defend. A
couple of quotations will show this. "Suppose me to be sitting
here in my library at Cambridge, at ten minutes' walk from
1 Memorial Hall,' and to be thinking truly of the latter object. My
mind may have before it only the name, or it may have a clear
image, or it may have a very dim image of the hall. ... If you
ask me what I MEAN [small caps mine] by my image, and I can
tell you nothing; or if I fail to point or lead you towards the
Harvard Delta ; or if, being led by you, I am uncertain whether
the Hall I see be what I had in mind or not ; you would rightly
deny that I had ' meant ' that particular hall at all. . . . On the
other hand, if I can lead you to the hall ... if in its presence I
feel my idea, however imperfect it may have been, to have led
hither and to be now terminated . . . why then my soul was.
prophetic, and my idea must be, and by common consent would
be, called cognisant of reality. That percept was what I meant "
(55-56). What is important in this passage is the non-existence of
any special function of meaning — its non-existence psychologically,
or as a datum of introspection, that is, for epistemologically I
certainly do mean the object. When such a process of experiential
conduction through intermediaries unrolls itself, says James, " their
starting-point thereby becomes a knoiver and their terminus an object
meant or knoivn" (57).

I do not mean to assent unreservedly to this account of know-
ing or meaning, for (a) the intermediaries do not, as James him-
self observes, need to be actually passed through in order that the
knowing relation may exist; (b) they do not even need to be
capable of being passed through, in the form of experiences : as
is shown by the fact that we can know or mean the past, or a

THE MEANING OF ' MEANING'. 71

distant object as it is at this moment, or another mind. It is the
actually existing physical relations between the object and our
mind that enable us to mean it. Hence a visual sensation, whose
sufficient resemblance to the object is guaranteed by the fact that
it was called forth by stimuli from it, may mean or know that
object provided it leads us to point toward it or to perform actions
addressed to it ; and perception requires to have no greater clair-
voyancy or intuitive power than this. Meaning is not primarily
and originally a relation of a mental image to a sensation ; it is,
in its earliest form, a relation of a sensation to the external object
which it enables us to cognise.

(5) Dr. Schiller is impatient with me because I attempt, realis-
tically, to account for meaning by means of relations to things
outside the mind, and will not content myself^ as he does, with
merely describing the experience of meaning. If I understand
him rightly, when he goes to Switzerland to climb, the mountains
are a temporary hypothesis which is true because it works, bufe
which ceases to be true when he returns to Oxford. Or, if he
attributes to them a greater degree of reality than this (as I hope),
then I have a right to consider his body and the relations between
it and them in explaining how he can think of or ' mean' them.

Finally, may I say that it was not from any impulse of chivalry,
as he suggests, that I rushed to the aid of beauty in distress in the
person of Mr. Kussell, but because all three of the learned dis-
putants appeared to me to be, in one form or another, phenom-
enalists, and because, even after Dr. Schiller's two valuable
papers, no reference (so far as I remember) to a possible bearing
of my form of realism on the question had yet been made. I
wished to maintain, against Mr. Eussell, that there is no good
ground for holding that mental images can signify to the mind
things beyond themselves, but that sensations cannot do so ; that,
consequently, the distinction between sense-datum and sensation
is a valid distinction. Dr. Schiller was well advised in raising
the problem of the nature of meaning; it is admirably adapted
to take us to the roots of things ; but he must not be surprised
if it turns out that physical objects are known by our ' meaning '
them, and that how we can mean them is explained by certain
relations between physical objects.

C. A. STKONG.

VI.— CEITICAL NOTICES.

A Treatise on Probability. BY J. M. KEYNES, Fellow of King's
College, Cambridge. London : Macmillan & Co. Ltd., 1921.
Pp. xi, 466.

Mr. KEYNES'S long awaited work on Probability is now published,
and will at once take its place as the best treatise on the logical
foundations of the subject. The present reviewer well remembers
going over the proofs of the earlier parts of it in the long vacation
of 1914 with Mr. Keynes and Mr. Russell. From these innocent
pleasures Mr. Keynes was suddenly hauled away on a friendly
sidecar to advise the authorities in London on the moratorium and
the foreign exchanges. Mr. Eussell (like the foreign exchanges)
received a shock, from which he has never wholly recovered, in
learning that the logic books had been deceiving him by their re-
iterated assertions that "man is a rational animal "; and the
Treatise on Probability was held up till this year.

The present treatise is essentially philosophical rather than
mathematical, although it contains a fair amount of mathematics.
It is divided into five parts. The first defines probability and dis-
cusses how far it can be measured. The second gives the funda-
mental theorems of probability in strict logical form. This part
owes a great deal to Mr. W. E. Johnson, to whose magnificent
work on this subject Mr. Keynes acknowledges his great obligations.
Indeed the Muse of Probability seems to have fixed her seat at
King's College, Cambridge, of which both Mr. Keynes and Mr.
Johnson are fellows. The third part deals with the logical prin-
ciples of inductive and analogical generalisation ; and the fifth
with the connected, but more complex, problem of inductive
correlation or statistical inference. In between these two is
sandwiched Part IV., which is entitled " Some Philosophical Appli-
cations of Probability ". This is concerned with a number of
historically interesting problems, and in particular with the appli-
cation of probability to ethics. At the end of the work Mr. Keynes
provides an admirable bibliography of books and articles on
probability and kindred subjects.

In this review I shall try to give an outline of Mr. Keynes's
theory. I shall not have many serious criticisms to make, because
I am substantially in agreement with him, and where I am not
persuaded by his arguments the subject is so difficult that I have
little of value to suggest as an alternative to his views.

The fundamental thesis of the book is that probability is a rela-

J. M. KETNES, A Treatise on Probability. 73

tion between propositions, which may be compared with implication.
When p implies q the belief that p is true justifies an equally strong
belief in q. But there are numberless cases where a belief in p
justifies a certain degree of belief in q, but does not justify so
strong a belief in q as we have in p. In such cases there is a
•certain logical relation between p and q, and this relation is of the
utmost importance for logic. But it is not the relation of impli-
cation. It is this other relation with which probability is con-
cerned. This probability relation is capable of degree, since it may
justify a more or a less confident belief in q. The typical probability
statement is of the form "p has to q a probability relation of
degree x". Implication may perhaps be regarded as the strongest
probability relation, or better as a limit of all possible probability
relations.

There is however a very important difference, which is not
merely one of degree, between the implicative and the probability
relations. There is nothing corresponding to the Principle of
Assertion in probability. If one proposition implies another and
we know that the first is true we are justified by the Principle of
Assertion in going on to believe the second by itself, and in drop-
ping all reference to the first. We can never do this in probabil-
ity. We can never get beyond statements of the form "p has
such and such a probability with respect to the datum q ". Pro-
positions are true or false in themselves, though we may need to
know their relations to other propositions in order to know whether
they are true or false. But probability is of its very nature
relative. When we talk of the probability of a proposition this
phrase is always elliptical, as when we say that the distance of
London is 120 miles. We simply assume that the person to
whom we are speaking will supply from his own mind the same
data as we are taking. Two important consequences flow from
this. In the first place, a proposition may be highly probable with
respect to certain data and yet be false. Its turning out to be false
makes no difference whatever to the fact that it is highly probable
with respect to these data. Secondly, one and the same proposi-
tion may have many different probabilities at the same time, so
long as the data are different in each case. In particular a pro-
position may be highly probable with respect to a certain set of
data and highly improbable with respect to another set of
data which includes the first set as a part. Thus, if the only fact
that you know about a man is that he has recently swallowed
arsenic, it is highly probable with respect to these data that he will
be dead in the next half hour. If you afterwards get the additional
piece of information that he has taken an emetic, the probability
that he will die in the next half hour, on the combined data, is
much smaller. Neither probability is in any way more " correct "
than the other. This essential relativity of probability is abso-
lutely fundamental, and most previous expositions have suffered
by failing to grasp it.

74 CEITICAL NOTICES :

To express these facts Mr. Keynes takes over a useful symbol
from Mr. Johnson. He writes q/p = x for " the probability of q
with respect to the datum p is of magnitude x'1. Two questions-
at once arise : (1) Can probability always be measured ? and (2)
Why do we commonly prefer a probability with respect to wider
data to a probability with respect to narrower data? These
questions are dealt with by Mr. Keynes in two chapters in the
first part.

(1) Mr. Keynes argues that there is no reason to suppose that
all probabilities fall into a single scale. All indeed lie between
certain truth and certain falsehood, but there may be innumerable
series leading from the one to the other. It is only probabilities
that lie in the same course that can be directly compared. Two
different courses may cut each other at one or more points, i.e.r
there may be certain probabilities which are common to several
different series. When this happens there is a possibility of in-
directly comparing two probabilities in different series by compar-
ing both with one that is common to the two series. But, even
when we confine ourselves to the probabilities of a single series,
there is no guarantee that we shall be able to set up a consistent
system of numerical measures for them. Not every series of
comparable magnitudes is measurable. The mathematicians have
naturally exaggerated the amount of numerically measurable pro-
bability in the wprld ; and, when they came across probabilities
that were not comparable, or, if comparable, not numerically
measurable, they passed by and " thanked God that they were
rid of a rogue ". Probabilities are only measurable in the com-
paratively rare cases where we have a field of possibilities which
can be split up disjunctively into exhaustive, exclusive, and
equiprobable alternatives. This does happen in games of chance
and in the "bag" problems in which mathematicians exercise
themselves, but not in many other cases.

It must be noticed that this view of Mr. Keynes's is much more
radical than the view that all probabilities are theoretically
measurable, but that in most cases the practical difficulties are
insuperable. Mr. Keynes points out that there is one and only
one theory of probability on which the latter view is plausible..
{This is the Frequency Theory, which he proceeds to discuss.

There is something bluff and Anglo-Saxon about the Frequency
Theory, which no doubt accounts for its extreme popularity with
the Island Eace in general and with Prof. Whitehead in particular.
Moreover there is a real but rather complex connexion between
probability and frequency by way of Bernoulli's Theorem ; and
the very narrow limits within which that theorem and its converse
can be applied have been overlooked by most people, as Mr.
Keynes points out in the later parts of the present work. Thus
there are many excuses for accepting the Frequency Theory.
Mr. Keynes has little difficulty in showing that, in the simple-
minded form in which it appears in Venn's Logic of Chance, it i&

j. M. KEYNES, A Treatise on Probability. 75

unsatisfactory, and that Venn tacitly assumes in many places a sense
of probability other than that which is laid down in his definitions.
Prof. Whitehead's form of the theory, as might be expected, is a
good deal more subtle. Unfortunately it is not easy to make out
exactly what it is. Mr. Keynes states it in the way in which he
has understood it from private correspondence, but admits that he
may be mistaken about Whitehead's meaning. It is therefore
hardly profitable for a third person to discuss this form of the
theory. But it is open to a reviewer to point out what seems to
him to be a fallacy in Mr. Keynes's arguments against the theory.
Keynes argues that Whitehead's form of the theory shares with
Venn's the defect that it cannot satisfactorily explain the funda-
mental axiom connecting the probability of a disjunctive proposi-
tion with the probabilities of its separate parts, i.e., the proposition

(pvq)/h = p/h + q/h - pq/li.

On the Frequency Theory, as interpreted by Mr. Keynes, the
datum h determines a certain class a of propositions of which
p is a member, a certain class /? of which q is a member, and
certain classes y and 8 of which the propositions pq and pvq are
respectively members. The probability of p with respect to h
is then defined as the ratio of the number of true propositions
in the class a to the total number of propositions in this class.
Similar definitions apply, mutatis mutandis, to the probabilities
of q, pq, and pvq, respectively. He then points out, quite truly,
that the question whether the fundamental addition-theorem men-
tioned above will hold at all depends entirely on what particular
classes, a, /?, y and 8, the datum h does determine for the four
propositions in question. So far I quite agree, and think that
this is a very serious difficulty in the way of the theory in question.
But Mr. Keynes then proceeds to tell us what must be the values
of the classes, a, ft, y, and 8, if the equation is to hold. He says
that 8 must be the class of propositions of the form p\q, where
p is a member of a and q of ft ; and that y must be the class a/3
of propositions. It is very easy to make up simple concrete ex-
amples to disprove this ; i.e., to make up examples in which the
fundamental theorem does not hold even when the classes of
reference are determined in this particular way. But it is better
to disprove it quite generally. It can be shown that the number
of propositions in Mr. Keynes's class 8 is (a) (/3) - (a/?)/2 - (aft)*/'*.
It can also be shown that the number of true propositions in
this class is : —

(«,)(/?) + G8,)(«) - KX/»r) - (a/3), (aft) + («0:/a - («0T/2

where (a) = the number of propositions in the class a ; (aT) means
the number of true propositions in the class a ; and similar mean-
ings attach to the other symbols. If the fundamental equation

76 CEITICAL NOTICES:

is to hold, the ratio of the second expression to the first must
be equal to —

W , (« _ (°&i

(a) + (ft) (aft)'

It is quite obvious that this will not in general be true; and
therefore that either Mr. Keynes or I have made some blunder
in the algebra of classes. I am pretty certain that Mr. Keynes
is wrong, but of course I may be wrong too. However this may
be, the real force of Mr. Keynes's general criticism is not diminished,
even if he has made an algebraical slip here.

If the measurement and comparison of probabilities be pos-
sible only in a few specially favourable cases it is peculiarly im-
portant to be sure what those cases are. This leads to the question :
When may we judge two probabilities to be equal ? And this leads
us at once to one of the cruces of the Theory of Probability, viz.,
the famous Principle of Non-Sufficient Reason, or, as Mr. Keynes
prefers to call it, the Principle of Indifference. In the negative
and critical part of this chapter Mr. Keynes found most of the
work already done for him by Von Kries, one of the few writers
on the philosophical side of probability who are really worth
reading. Von Kries had already pointed out the absurd results
which a light-hearted use of the Principle of Indifference had
led to. He did indeed attempt to base on these a positive state-
ment of the proper limits of the Principle ; but I am relieved
to notice that Mr. Keynes finds the precise upshot of Von Kries's
positive theory as hard to grasp as I have always done myself.

By studying the cases where the uncritical use of the Principle
of Indifference ends in absurdities Mr. Keynes elicits the following
conditions which must be fulfilled if it is to be applicable. (1) The
various alternatives under consideration must be capable of being
put into the same form, i.e., they must simply be different instances
of a single prepositional function <£. This cuts out the wild ap-
plications of the Principle to pairs of contradictory alternatives in
which Jevons habitually indulged. The two alternatives " x is
red " and " x is not red " are not of the same form. The first
means that x has the colour red. The second certainly does not
mean that x has the colour " non-red," for non-red is not a colour.
(2) The alternatives must not be sub-divisible into other alternatives
of the same form as themselves. Given that x is an inhabitant of
Europe it follows that he lives either in Great Britain or in France
or in Germany or. . . . These alternatives are of the same form,
and so far all is well. But each of them is divisible into sub-
alternatives of the same form as itself. The alternative that x
lives in Great Britian is divisible into such alternatives as that he
lives in England, that he lives in Scotland, etc. . .. It is by ignor-
ing this condition that mathematicians who treat of geometrical
probability so often reach different solutions of the same problem.

Subject to these two conditions Mr. Keynes states the Principle

j. M. KEYNES, A Treatise on Probability. 77

as follows. The alternatives <£(&) and (f>(b) are equally probable
with respect to the data h, provided that h can be written in the
form /(a) f(b) h', where f(a) and /(&) are logically independent, h'
is absolutely irrelevant to both alternatives, and/(&) and f(b) are
the only parts of h that are relevant to <£(a) and <£(&) respectively.
(There is a puzzling mistake in Mr. Keynes's symbolism on p. 60,
§ 21. He says : " It might be the case that . . . <f>(x) = x is the
only prepositional function common to all of them " (i.e., the
alternatives). He cannot possibly mean this, for it is sheer non-
sense that <f>(x) which is a proposition about x should ever be
identical with x itself. What he really means is simply that <j>(x)
might be nothing but x = a.v.x = b.v.x^c.\. . . . where a ,b, c,
. . . are just proper names or other designations of the altern tives.
Such a <£ will not do. His re 1 point therefore is that the alterna-
tives must be members of a class which is denned intensively, and
not by a mere enumeration of its members.)

It will be seen then that all judgments of indifference involve
judgments of irrelevance. We have to know what part of h is
irrelevant to both <£(a) and </>(&) before we can see whether h does
fall into the form required for the Principle of Indifference. These
judgments of irrelevance are of fundamental importance in
Probability, and no rules can be given for making them. In the
end we h ive to come down to direct insight, just as we have to
do in the end in judging the validity of any deductive argument.

Mr. Keynes makes one very important observation here on the
dangers of symbolism. So long as we are dealing with mere a's
and b's all that we know about them is that they are both instances
of some (j>. Jiut the moment you substitute something definite,
like Socrates, for a, and something else definite, like Plato, for &,
you can no longer assume that the conditions for the Principle of
Indifference still hold. The moment you know, not merely that
you are dealing with a <£, but also know which particular one of
the </>'s you are dealing with, you may have fresh relevant in-
formation.

Having treated the conditions under which two or more pro-
babilities may be judged to be equal Mr. Keynes turns to the
question : " Under what conditions can one probability be judged
to be greater or less than another? " Such comparisons can only
be made directly \\hen either (a) we have the same data, and one
of the propositions whose probability is sought is a conjunctive
containing the other proposition as a part ; or (b) when the pro-
position whose probability is sought is the same in both cases, but
the datum in one is a conjunctive which includes the data of the
other as a part. Into the exact refinements that are needed here
I will not enter. Mr. Keynes shows that, by combining cases (a)
and (b), we can sometimes indirectly compare probabilities which
do not fall under either rubric.

(2) The prolegomena to the measurement of probability are now
completed, and we can turn to another most important question

78 CEITICAL NOTICES:

already been mentioned. If there is nothing to choose in
point of correctness between the probabilities of a proposition with
respect to a wider and to a narrower set of data why do we prefer the
former probability to the latter ? Why do we attach more weight
to the low probability of the patient who is known to have taken
both arsenic and an emetic dying in the next half hour than to the
much higher and equally correct probability of the same event
relative to the narrower data that he has taken arsenic? This
extremely puzzling question is attacked by Mr. Keynes in a chapter
on the Weight of Arguments. I do not know of any other writer
who has raised it except myself in the chapter on Causation in
Perception, Physics, and Reality ; though I do not doubt that Mr.
Johnson has an elaborate treatment of it up his sleeve. Roughly
speaking, any increase in the amount of relevant evidence increases
the weight of an argument, though it may leave the probability
unchanged or may decrease it. We have already seen an example
of the latter ; let us now consider the former. Suppose we start
with a probability a/h. A new piece of evidence k may arise, and
k may consist of two parts k^ and k2, one of which is favourably
and the other unfavourably relevant to a/h. In that case it is
possible that a/hk = a/h. Nevertheless the weight of a/hk is
greater than that of a/h. Mr. Keynes discusses various cases in
which weights can be compared; and he considers the relation
between weight and what is called " probable error" in statistics.
In general a big probable error is a sign of scanty observations,
and therefore of a low weight for one's result. But this correlation
is not absolutely invariable. I wish that Mr. Keynes had discussed
why we feel it rational to prefer an argument of greater weight to
one of less weight. I think that our preference must be bound up
in some way with the notion that to every event there is a finite
set of conditions relative to which the event is certain to happen or
certain not to happen. So long as the evidence is scanty a high
probability with respect to it does not make it reasonable to act as
if we knew that the event would happen, because it is reasonable
to suppose thit we have only got hold of a very small selection of
the total conditions and that the missing ones may be such as to
be strongly relevant in an unfavourable direction. If the proba-
bility remains high relative to a nearly exhaustive set of data we
feel that there is less danger that the missing data may act in the
opposite direction. In fact, what we assume is that a high
probability with respect to a wide set of data is a sign of certainty
with respect to the complete set of relevant data.

This exhausts the main features of Part I. Part II. is largely
the formal development of the fundamental axioms of probability.
Much of it could be accepted by a person who rejected Mr Keynes's
view as to what probability really is. The most exciting theorems
in this part are due to Mr. Johnson, whose valuable conception of
" Coefficients of Dependence " is introduced and explained. It is
worth while to mention a very plausible fallacy in probable reason-

j. M. KEYNES, A Treatise on Probability. 79

ing which is detected and dealt with mathematically by Mr.
Johnson's methods. It seems plausible to hold that if k is
favourably relevant to m/h and m is favourably relevant to x/h
then k must be favourably relevant to x/h. It is shown here that
this is not in general true; and the two conditions under which
alone it is true are elicited. It is fairly easy to illustrate part at
least of this fallacy by an example. The fact that a man is a
-doctor increases the probability that he will have visited smallpox
patients, and the fact that a person has visited smallpox patients
increases the probability that he will get smallpox. It by no
means follows that the fact that a man is a doctor increases the
probability that he will get smallpox. For this fact also increases
the probability that he is properly vaccinated and that he will take
reasonable precautions. And this of course decreases the prob-
ability that he will get smallpox. Thus we see that it is not
enough that k shall be favourably relevant to something that is
favourably relevant to x. It is also necesslary that k shall not be
favourably relevant to anything that is unfavourably relevant to
x. The second condition is more subtle, and I cannot at the
moment think of any simple example that would illustrate it. As
an example of the power of the Keynes-Johnson methods the
reader is advised to look at Chapter XVII., in which Mr. Keynes
solves in a few lines problems over which Boole spent pages of
.algebra, arriving as often as not at results which are certainly
wrong.

To the mathematician I should imagine that the most interest-
ing thing in this part would be Mr. Keynes's beautiful treatment
of Laws of Error, and his general solution of the problem : What
form must the law of error take in order that the most probable
value of a measured variable shall be represented by the arithmetic,
the geometric, the harmonic, and other means, of the observed
values ? I know of no treatment of this subject which approaches
Mr. Keynes's for clearness and generality. To most readers of
MIND, however, the chapters of greatest interest will be the earlier
ones on the notions of Groups and Requirement.

Both these notions were first devised by Mr. Johnson to deal
with such problems in deductive reasoning as are raised by Mill's
attack on the Syllogism and by the apparent paradox about a false
proposition implying all propositions and a true proposition being
implied by all propositions. Mr. Keynes first explains the applica-
tions of the theory, and then proceeds to give his own extension of
it to the case of probable reasoning.

A group, so far as I can understand, consists of a set of pro-
positions which must contain some formal principles of inference,
and includes in addition all propositions that follow from the
fundamental set by the principles which are contained in that set.
A group is said to be real if the set of propositions which determine
it are all known to be true, otherwise it is said to be hypothetical.
It is of course possible for the same group to be determined by

80 CEITICAL NOTICES :

several alternative sets of propositions, though a given set neces-
sarily determines a single group. Mr. Keynes and Mr. Johnson
are both persuaded of the extreme importance of the theory of
groups in the logic of inference. I agree with them to this extent,
that the facts that the theory of groups takes into account are of
vital importance. But it does seem to me that they can all be
stated much more simply in other terms ; and I have failed to find
anything specially important that follows from the group notation
and would not have been discovered without it. Possibly I am
only exhibiting my ignorance. The essential point that the group
theory is meant to bring out is the distinction between what
Johnson calls the Logical and the Epistemic factors in infer-
ence. The latter is the question of the order in which we get our
knowledge. E.g., p implies q provided that either p is false or
q is true. So far it is irrelevant how we came to know that this
disjunction holds. But when we say "if p then q" we mean
something more than this. We mean that it is possible to know
that p is false or q is true without having to know that p is false
or having to know that q is true. And the only way in which we
can know such a thing is by seeing that the disjunction is an in-
stance of some formally true hypothetical such as "if SaP then
P&S ". Again, if we want to infer q from p it is obviously necessary
to be able to know that p is false or q true before you know whether
q is true or not. All this can be and is expressed by Mr. Keynes
in terms of the theory of groups ; and my only doubt is whether
it becomes any clearer or leads to anything further when so ex-
pressed.

A proposition has a probability with respect to a set of data h
when neither it nor its contradictory falls into the group determined
by h. Does this really enlighten us any more than to know (what
is equivalent to it) that neither the proposition nor its contradictory
must follow logically from the premises mentioned in h by the
known formal principles of d eductive logic ? On page 131 Mr. Keynes-
has a formidable definition in terms of groups of the statement
that " the probability of p does not require q within the group de-
termined by h". When this definition is unpacked it seems to me
to amount to no more than this : You can make a selection In! cut
of h such that no part of h outside h' will alter the probability
p/h' when added to h' ; and some part of h outside h' when added to
h' will alter the probability of q/h'. If this be the right interpretation,
it is far easier to grasp than Mr. Keynes's definition in terms of
groups.

Not only am I doubtful of the fruitfulness of the group theory,
I am also not satisfied that Mr. Keynes's treatment ot hypothetical
groups is adequate. All groups must, so far as I can see, include
in their fundamental set formal principles of inference as well a&
premises. I quite understand that the premises may be hypothet-
ical. But can we really allow the generating principles to be
hypothetical also ? Mr. Keynes does not discuss this point, which

j. M. KEYNES, A Treatise on Probability. 81

seems to me to be a very important one for a person who is going
to admit hypothetical groups.

Let us next turn to Mr. Keynes's theory of inductive generalisation,
which is contained in Part III. It is peculiarly gratifying to me
to find how nearly Mr. Keynes's view of the nature and limits of
induction agrees with that put forward quite independently by me
in two articles in MIND. We both agree that induction cannot
hope to arrive at anything more than probable conclusions, and
that therefore the logical principles of induction must be the laws
of probability. We both agree that, if induction as applied to
nature is to lead to results of reasonably high probability, nature
must fulfil certain conditions which there is no logical necessity why
it should fulfil. Finally, we agree as to the nature of those con-
ditions, in general outline at any rate. In some way the amount
of ultimate variety in nature must be limited, if induction is to be
practically valuable ; the infinite variety of nature, as we perceive
it, must rest on combinations of a comparatively few ultimate
differences. But of course Mr. Keynes's theory is far more de-
tailed and subtle than anything of which I am capable ; and it is,
so far as I know, the only account of the logic of this process
which a self-respecting logician can read with any satisfaction.

The problem of induction boils down to this : We examine n
things. They have the r properties jt^ . . . pr in common; this is
called their total positive analogy. There is also a set of proper-
ties ql ... qs such that each is present in some of the things and
none is present in all of them ; this is called the total negative
analogy. Both the positive and the negative analogies in any
actual case are pretty certain to be greater than the known positive
and negative analogies, which form the only basis of our argument.
Our object is to prove some proposition of the form that everything
which has the properties p1 . . . pm has the properties pr_t . . . pr.
It is obvious that this can only be possible if some part of the
known analogy is irrelevant. E.g., all the examined instances
agree in the fact that we have examined them, that they are con-
fined to certain limits of space and time, and differ from all unex-
amined instances in these respects. Whenever this part of the
known analogy is relevant to the attempted generalisation, it is
clear that the attempt is doomed to fail. Thus an essential factor,
in all inductive generalisations is judgments of irrelevance. Many
of them no doubt depend on past experience, but Mr. Keynes holds
that there must be a residuum which is a priori. The only im-
portance of the Uniformity of Nature is that it is a general prin-
ciple of irrelevance, which asserts that mere differences of date
and position are irrelevant. Mr. Keynes raises the question in a
note whether this is affected by the Theory of Eelativity ; but he
does not answer his own question. However this may be, it seems
to me that the Uniformity of Nature, thus defined, is a mere pious
platitude ; since — whether space and time be absolute or relative —
no two objects or events ever do differ merely in date or place.

6

82 CRITICAL NOTICES :

Such differences always involve their being in intimate spatio-
temporal relations with different sets of objects or events, and
these differences cannot be assumed to be irrelevant.

Our generalisation always refers to much less than the known
positive analogy. When we argue that all swans are white our
generalisation only concerns whiteness and those few properties
by which we define a swan. But all the examined swans were
known to have many other common properties beside these, and
we do not know that these are all irrelevant. All that we posi-
tively know to be irrelevant at this stage is the properties in the
known negative analogy. We can reduce the dangers thus involved
by seeking other instances which increase the known negative
analogy. For this purpose mere number is unimportant. One
instance which is known to differ from the previously examined
ones in many of those properties which the generalisation assumes
to be irrelevant is of more importance than dozens of instances
which are exactly like those already examined. But there remains
a danger due to the fact that the total analogy is almost certain to
be greater than the knowrn positive analogy. The extra and un-
known analogies may be relevant; and, since we do not know
what they are, we do not know where to look for negative analogies
which will prove them to be irrelevant. In this case the only
course is to increase the number of instances, trusting that, even
though they do not differ in any known respects from those that
have already been examined, they will probably between them
differ in many of the unknown points of positive analogy from the
examined instances. All this however only tells us how to di-
minish the objections to an inductive generalisation. It does not
tell us that any inductive generalisation will possess a reasonable
degree of probability, even when we have carried out these pro-
cesses to the utmost. Something more is clearly needed if induc-
tive generalisation is to be trustworthy.

The extra factor is dealt with in the chapter on Pure Induction.
It is easy to prove that an hypothesis becomes more and more
probable the more mutually independent consequences of it are
verified. It is also easy to prove that, if it starts with a finite pro-
bability, sufficient verification of mutuallyiindependent consequences
will make its probability approach as near as we please to unity. The
problem that remains is : What justifies us in ascribing a finite ante-
cedent probability to any inductive generalisation ? To this Mr.
Keynes answers that we are only justified if we assume that all the
variety of perceptible properties springs from a comparatively small
number of generating properties.

To each generating property there corresponds a large group
of perceptible qualities, but we must admit the possibility that
the class of perceptible qualities corresponding to <^ and the
class corresponding to <j>2 may partially overlap. If so the group
common to the two will not tie us down to a single generator.
Setting this possibility aside for the moment, we see that if a

J. M. KEYNES, A Treatise on Probability. 83

group a of perceptible qualities is found to be accompanied by
a group ft there is a finite probability that the complete group
a/2 corresponds to a single generator, or that the generators of a
include among them the generators of /3. If this is so a will not
be able to occur without J3, and there is thus a finite antecedent
probability of the generalisation, on which induction can build.
If we allow that a group of perceptible qualities may have a
plurality of possible generators this argument breaks down ; but
if we assume that the plurality of possible generators for every
set is finite we can still assign a finite antecedent probability
to inductive correlations, which assert that the next S, or at least
a certain proportion of the S's, will be P.

Mr. Keynes seems to me to be right here ; and it is true that
this is the kind of assumption that does lie at the back of all our
scientific reasoning. I have only two remarks to make. (1) Does
the theory of generators add anything to the facts? Would it
not be enough to assume that perceptible qualities do tend to
occur in bundles ? This is the whole cash- value of the assump-
tion, and the doctrine of generators seems to be nothing more
than a hypothetical explanation of our assumption. (2) Mr.
Keynes holds that there is no circle in saying both that no in-
ductive generalisation can acquire a finite probability without
this assumption, and that the results of induction may make
this assumption progressively more and more probable.

It is therefore not necessary that the fundamental inductive
assumption should be certain. It is enough if it ever had a finite
probability ; for all subsequent experience has tended to support it.
What Mr. Keynes means is, I think, this : If the world is a system
with a finite number of generating properties we might expect to
find a good deal of regularity and repetition in it. Now, up to the
present, we have found more and more regularity and repetition
the more carefully we have looked for them. Thus the actual
course of experience has been such as to increase the probability
of the inductive hypothesis, provided that it started with any finite
probability. This works out in practice to the result that a large
part of the confidence that we now feel in any inductive general-
isation is due, not to the special evidence for it, but to the enormous
and steadily increasing amount of regularity that we have found in
other regions. There is, I think, no circle in this. Thus the one
fundamental assumption of induction is that we can know some- ,/
how that the inductive hypothesis that nature is fundamentally
finite has a finite antecedent probability. Mr. Keynes admits that
it is very difficult to see how we can know this. It is certainly
not an a priori principle, self evident for all possible worlds, that
every system must depend on a finite number of generators. We
can only suppose that in some way we can see directly that this
has a finite probability for the actual world. But the epistemology
of this is at present wrapped in mystery.

In Part IV. many interesting problems are discussed ; but I

84 CRITICAL NOTICES:

must only glance at them. Mr. Keynes ranges from Psychical
Research to Principia Ethica, and from the Argument from Design
to the Petersburg Problem ; and he has something illuminating
to say about all of them. From the point of view of pure proba-
bility the most important thing in this part is the definitions of an
objectively chance event and of a random selection. The former is
very important in connexion with statistical mechanics, the latter
in connexion with most statistical reasoning. A chance event is
not one which is supposed to be undetermined. Nor is it always
one whose antecedent probability is very small. To throw a head
with a penny is a chance event, but its probability is -J. An
event may be said to be a matter of chance when no increase in
our knowledge of the laws of nature, and no practicable increase
in our knowledge of the facts that are connected with it, will
appreciably alter its probability as compared with that of its
alternatives.

Part V. deals with the principles of statistical inference. It
is too technical for me to give any complete account of it, so I
will confine myself to a very short summary of the most im-
portant points in it. (1) Mr. Keynes considers the conditions
under which Bernoulli's theorem holds, and shows that they
are so restricted that we can seldom in practice count on their
being fulfilled. (2) He severely criticises Laplace, and particularly
his famous Eule of Succession. This occurs in connexion with
the attempted inversion of Bernoulli's theorem. I agree with
Mr. Keynes about this rule, but it seems to me that he is a
little unfair to it in one respect. He assumes that it always
deals with cases where what is drawn is replaced before the
next drawing. On that supposition it is true, as he points out,
that the formula only holds as the number of drawings tends to
infinity. But the same formulae hold without this restriction
when the objects drawn are not replaced. And surely, if the
Rule claims to have the slightest application to our investigations
of nature, the latter is the right alternative. For we cannot
observe the same event twice over, any more than we can draw
a counter twice out of a bag if we do not replace it. (3) On
all these subjects Mr. Keynes prefers Bortkiewicz, Tschuproff,
Tchebycheff, and Lexis to the classical French school. I am
afraid that, with the exception of Lexis, these names are mere
sternutations to most English readers ; but I suppose we may
look forward to a time when no logician will sleep soundly without
a Bortkiewicz by his bedside. (I must remark in passing that
the beginning of Mr. Keynes's sketch of Tchebycheffs theorem
seems to the uninitiated to commit precisely the same kind of
fallacy which Mr. Keynes himself points out in Maxwell's de-
duction of the law for the distribution of molecular velocities in
a gas. This is on page 353, where it is said that " the probability
that the sum x + y + z . . . will have for its value XK + y^ + z*
. . . is pK g\ r^ . . . ". Surely this forgets that a sum of this

BERTRAND RUSSELL, The Analysis of Mind. 85

value could be made up in a great number of different ways by
taking suitably chosen values of the variables. Why should not
%a + yp + Zy - . . have the same value as x* + y^ + z^ . . . ?
In that case the probability will be much greater than pK q\ r^. . .)
(4) About past statisticians Mr. Keynes makes a remark which
exactly hits the nail. They never have clearly distinguished
between the problem of stating the correlations which occur in
the observed data, and the problem of inferring from these the
correlations of unobserved instances. There is nothing inductive
about the former ; but, as it involves considerable difficulties,
the statistician has been liable to suppose that, when he has
solved these, all is over except the shouting. Thus the inductive
theory of statistical inference practically does not exist, save for
beginnings in the works of Lexis and Bortkiewicz. These be-
ginnings Mr. Keynes describes and tries to extend.

There are several misprints in the book beside those that are
mentioned in the list of errata. On page 170 the various kinds of
fe's have got mixed up in the course of the argument. On page 183
it is said that " we require a/ah2h2," when we really want ajah-ji^.
On page 207 substitute <j>(z) for <£(#) on the left-hand side of the equa-
tion. In the formula at the bottom of page 386 read/ for/ in the
second f ictor of both numerator and denominator. On page 395 in
the first line after the equation read pl for the second p in the line.

I can only conclude by congratulating Mr. Keynes on finding
time, amidst so many public duties, to complete this book, and the
philosophical public on getting the best work on Probability that
they are likely to see in this generation.

C. D. BEOAD.

The Analysis of Mind. By BERTRAND RUSSELL, F.R.S. London :
George Allen & Unwin, Ltd., 1921. Pp. 310.

" TRAVELLING, whether in the mental or the physical world, is a
joy, and it is good to know that, in the mental world at least, there
are vast countries still very imperfectly explored."

Many will feel that in those words, which occur early in his
latest book, Mr. Russell has aptly summed up his own attitude to
philosophy. For there has seldom been a bolder traveller in those
realms than Mr. Russell, and seldom one who had more power to
charm his readers by the accounts of his discoveries, or to com-
municate to them something of the zest he himself finds in such
adventures. Almost every successive work which has come from
his pen represents a new voyage of discoveiy, and most of his
readers must at times have found it difficult to keep track of his
rapid progress. But never before, I think, has he made so venture-
some a journey as the present one, or covered in his survey so
large a stretch of country.

We have already, of course, had preliminary reports of this

86 CEITICAL NOTICES:

latest adventure. The theory which Mr. Eussell now expounds
more fully was adumbrated in his paper of two years ago printed
in the Aristotelian Society's Supplementary Volume II., and in
that form it has already been both attacked and defended in the
pages of MIND. But the present work is wider in its scope ; it is
an outline, at least, of a system of metaphysics ; and the theory
of knowledge which formed the subject of the Aristotelian paper
appears here as only a part of the larger scheme. Mr. Eussell
has not (so far as I can see) withdrawn any of his former conten-
tions, but they appear in rather a different light when they fall
into their proper place in the whole. It seems convenient, there-
fore, to treat the previous papers as being entirely swallowed
up in this new work, and to take this book as being the first
complete presentment of the new theory.

Its scope and its conclusion are briefly indicated in the preface.
Psychology, under the influence of behaviourism, has steadily been
growing more materialistic; but at the same time physics has
developed in the direction of making matter less and less material.
The two tendencies seem at first sight inconsistent, but Mr. Eussell
believes that they are not really so. " The view that seems to me
to reconcile the materialistic tendency of psychology with the
anti-materialistic tendency of physics is the view of William James
and the American new realists, according to which the 'stuff' of
the world is neither mental nor material, but a ' neutral stuff' out
of which both are constructed. I have endeavoured in this work
to develop this view in some detail as regards the phenomena with
which psychology is concerned."

This statement, however, scarcely brings out fully the nature of
the task which Mr. Eussell has attempted. His book may be
looked at from several different points of view. The reader is
likely to be struck in the first place by the extent of Mr. EusselPs
debt both to the behaviourists and to the American new realists.
The first few lectures are chiefly occupied with an exposition of
their views, and it might seem almost as if Mr. Eussell had aban-
doned some of his most characteristic positions and were confining
himself to lending to these new theories the aid of his unequalled
gift for the lucid exposition of complicated questions of philosophy.
But as the work proceeds, this first impression is seen to be quite
inadequate. Mr. Eussell finds it convenient to start from the
same point as the behaviourists, but it is not long before his path
diverges from theirs ; and what he does borrow from them he uses
simply as material for a very individual and singularly bold piece
of construction.

In carrying out this new theory, he has indeed, as he tells us
early in the book, abandoned a number of doctrines which he
previously held. But it would be a misapprehension to see in this
a complete volte-face ; what has happened, rather, is that Mr.
Eussell has developed one line of thought which has already ap-
peared in his writings. The present work becomes most intelligible

BERTEAKD RUSSELL, The Analysis of Mind. 87

if it is regarded as the application to a new material of the method
followed in Our Knowledge of the External World. The object of
that work was to show that the " matter " dealt with by physics
can be exhibited as a construction out of sense-data, i.e., that all
the laws of physics can be stated as laws of connexion between
sense-data. The present lectures attempt to analyse " mind " in
the same way; and the conclusion is that there is no specific
character "consciousness" which is of the essence of mind. We
say that "consciousness" exists when there occurs a certain com-
plex of sensations and images related in a certain way ; the whole
phenomenon is analysable into these sensations and images, but by
themselves they have nothing " conscious " about them. Thus
we end by analysing the subject, and all mental states and mental
processes into sensations and images variously inter-related.

As I have already said, the book begins with an outline of the
behaviourist attitude to psychological problems. It then proceeds
to discuss various particular points, showing how far the behaviour-
ist treatment will carry us and where it turns out to be inadequate.
Desire and feeling are dealt with, and the conclusion is reached
that they can be satisfactorily denned in behaviourist terms ; they
become, that is to say, names for certain causal laws of our actions.
(This is not entirely true of conscious desire, but the additional
elements there present are held not to make any fundamental
difference.) Two chapters are then devoted to the exposition of
two conceptions which Mr. Eussell regards as of first-rate import-
ance for the definition of psychology — mnemic caiisation and a
perspective.

The exposition of the latter notion, and of the related notion
of a biography, is substantially the same as that given in Our
Knowledge of the External World and in Mysticism and Logic. But
as Mr. Russell is here more concerned with psychology than with
physics, biographies are given a somewhat fuller treatment, par-
ticularly in the chapter on "The Definition of Perception". It is
pointed out that we can define a biography without leaving the
standpoint of physics — the biography to which a sensation belongs
is the set of particulars that are earlier or later than, or simultan-
eous with, the given sensation (assuming in accordance with the
theory of relativity that there are only local times). But we find
that there are certain biographies which have their parts connected
together not only by time-relations, but also by relations of ^mnemie
causation ; these are the biographies of living beings.

And at this point we come on a new fact, of great importance
for psychology. It is not the case that all the particulars of which
we are aware can be collected together both to form physical
objects and to form perspectives. There are certain appearances,
commonly called images, which cannot be fitted into the physical
world and so belong only to perspectives ; in other words, images have
a passive place but not an active place. The existence of such par-
ticulars is of course revealed only by introspection ; and it is denied

88 CEITICAL NOTICES:

by the behaviourists. But, argues Mr. Eussell, once we accept his
conclusion as to the nature of physical objects, we see that "the
physical world itself, as known, is infected through and through
with subjectivity," and so introspection need not be specially dis-
trusted just because it is subjective. Psychology is much more of
an independent science than the behaviourists would allow.
Images, however, turn out to be the only peculiar fact which
introspection reveals ; Mr. Russell accepts many of the other
behaviourist criticisms of the introspective process, and agrees
that it gives no ground for asserting the existence of a subject,
of mental acts, mental states or any of the other specifically
" conscious " entities which it has often been supposed to dis-
close.

So far then we have empirical evidence for the existence of two
kinds of things only — sensations and images. A later chapter
goes on to discuss their respective natures. The conclusion as
regards sensation is that of the American realists; "a patch of
colour and our sensation in seeing it are identical ". Sensations
in fact " are what is common to the mental and physical worlds ".
Images are clearly different in some way from sensations ; but in
the end it turns out that they differ not in their intrinsic natures,
but only in the causal laws which they obey. Images may have
mnemic causes and always have mnemic effects ; sensations have
only physical causes though they may have mnemic effects.

It remains for Mr. Russell to show that the analysis of mind
which he has suggested is confirmed by an examination of the
remaining kinds of mental processes. He has already argued
that desire, pleasure, pain and perception can be completely ex-
plained as complexes of sensations and images ; knowledge, think-
ing, truth and falsehood have still to be analysed into the same
elements. This task is, as Mr. Russell recognises, the most difficult
part of the enterprise; and it occupies nearly the whole of the
second half of the volume.

This analysis is worked out on the lines of Mr. Russell's
Aristotelian paper; it involves considerable complications and is
scarcely capable of being summarised. The conclusion is that a
belief consists entirely of a complex of sensations and images
variously related, together with a specific belief-feeling ; when this
complex corresponds in a certain way to the facts, then the belief
is true, and we have knowledge. There is no such thing as an
immediate cognitive relation : "I believe knowing to be a very
external and complicated relation, incapable of exact definition,
dependent upon causal laws, and involving no more unity than
there is between a signpost and the town to which it points ".

" The concluding chapter collects and emphasises the general con-
clusions reached ; attempts to define mind, which however is found
to be " a matter of degree, chiefly exemplified in number and com-
plexity of habits/' and so not capable of exact definition ; and ends
with a sketch of ''the nature of that fundamental science which I

BEETEAND EUSSELL, The Analysis of Mind. 89

believe to be the true metaphysic, in which mind and matter alike
-are seen to be constructed out of a neutral stuff, whose causal laws
have no such duality as that of psychology, but form the basis upon
which both physics and psychology are built ". The chapter does
not profess to work out this notion in detail, but only to suggest
general lines on which it might be worked out. The above funda-
mental science, Mr. Eussell thinks, would be somewhat nearer to
psychology than to physics ; at least physics would appear as
essentially derivative.

This summary, necessarily very inadequate, will still I hope be
sufficient to make it clear that the new theory is an ambitious one,
and that in boldness of construction it is not surpassed by anything
that Mr. Russell has previously done. It may well be doubted
whether anyone but Mr. Russell would have had the courage to
attempt even the outline of so far-reaching a theory within the
.limits to which he has here confined himself. And even those
who withhold assent from the conclusions will be unable to withhold
admiration from the exposition.

But certainly there is matter and to spare for controversy in this
volume. The criticisms that might be suggested are, I think, of
two kinds — those directed against particular points in Mr. Russell's
psychological analysis, and those attacking the tenability of his
theory as a general account of the nature of knowledge and of
reality. I shall mention a few difficulties that occur to me under
each of these heads.

Mr. Russell's treatment of desire is an excellent example of his
method. Starting from the behaviourist point of view he concludes
that the conscious element in desire is of secondary importance ;
" the primitive non-cognitive element . . . seems to be a push, not
-a pull, an impulsion away from the actual, rather than an attraction
towards the ideal. Certain sensations and other mental occurrences
have a property which we call discomfort ; these cause such bodily
movements as are likely to lead to their cessation." As for dis-
comfort and its opposite, pleasure, " we may regard them as
separate existing items in those who experience them, or we may
regard them as intrinsic qualities of sensations and other mental
occurrences, or we may regard them as mere names for the causal
characteristics of the occurrences which are uncomfortable or
pleasant ". Holding that there is nothing conclusive to be said in
favour of the first view, Mr. Russell proceeds to argue that, since
•either the second or the third is equally capable of accounting for
the facts, " it is safer to avoid the assumption that there are such
intrinsic qualities of mental occurrences as are in question, and to
•assume only the causal differences which are undeniable ". Dis-
comfort, then, like desire becomes merely a name for a causal law
of our actions ; and Mr. Russell has analysed away two things
which might have been held to have something specifically
" mental " about them.

What Mr. Russell here describes as ;: avoiding an assumption "

90 CRITICAL NOTICES:

seems to me to pass later on into something much more positive,
but I leave that point aside for the moment. My difficulty is that
the suggested definition of discomfort does not seem to correspond,
even in extension, with the ordinary use of the word. There arer
it seems to me, cases of what would he described (and properly
described) as discomfort where it is not true that <l the occurrence
in question stimulates voluntary or reflex movements tending to
produce some more or less definite change involving the cessation
of the occurrence " — as when a person has lost hope of improving
his condition. A man suffering from a mortal illness might be in
such a state, and might resign himself to continued discomfort (and
I am not here challenging the distinction between discomfort and
pain). There are equally I think cases where a behaviour-cycle,
^involving consciousness of the end, is in progress, but where
discomfort, in anything like the ordinary sense of the word, is
absent — as when a man is eagerly engaged in playing some game..
The question then of what discomfort really is cannot be shelved by
proposing to define it as Mr. Eussell does. Introspection, it seems
to me, shows it to be a positive mental fact of some kind ; and this,
if it is true, is surely of more importance than the question whether
we can " get on " without it or not. We can get along somehow
without images, if it comes to that ; but Mr. Eussell admits their
existence, for no more complicated reason than that he can see
quite clearly that there are such things.

No doubt, however, the point is not a vital one for Mr. Russell's
theory. He would probably be ready to grant that pleasure and
discomfort may be specific "feelings," just as he asserts later on
that belief is a specific feeling.

The question of the nature of desire remains to be decided.
The primitive element in desire, Mr. Eussell says, is the push of
discomfort ; and he makes'this statement before he has proposed
his own definition of discomfort, so presumably he supposes the
statement to be true when that word is taken in its everyday
meaning. I cannot feel that the arguments he brings forward
here are really convincing ; he does not seem to me to have given
enough consideration to those types of desire which are most
difficult to reconcile with his view. For instance, Sidgwick, in the
passage in the Methods of Ethics where he touches on this question,
gives a careful analysis of some instances of desire, and reaches
the conclusion that in those instances there is no painfulness
present; there is, he admits, unrestfulness — but unrestfulness is
not the same as uneasiness. I do not suggest, of course, that
Sidgwick foresaw the coming of behaviourism and refuted it by
anticipation ; but in the passage in question he seems quite alive
to the force of some of the points which have struck Mr. Eussell,
and there have been few writers who could weigh a question of
this kind more judicially than Sidgwick. Mr. Eussell might say,
of course, that if we allow for the effect of beliefs in causing-
secondary desires, we shall be able, by introducing some complica-

BERTRAND RUSSELL, The Analysis of Mind. 91

tions, to bring all doubtful cases under his formula. It may be
so ; but I confess I should like to see it done.

The whole point is of course a minor one ; and no doubt alter-
native analyses of desire might be suggested equally compatible
with the general metaphysical conclusion of the book. But that
conclusion is in danger so long as a single type of mental state
resists analysis into sensations and images, even if all the others
have been successfully dealt with.

I must pass on, however, to what Mr. Eussell says about theory
of knowledge, for it is here, as he himself recognises, that the real
testing-point for his view comes. That this should be so is only
natural when we consider that Mr. Russell's view is in one respect
the latest statement of a doctrine which has already a long history
behind it, viz., sensationalism. Of course, Mr. Eussell's sensation-
alism is a very new variety of that old philosophy, but I think it
is sufficiently like the classic type to make the application of the
label legitimate. Again and again the positions he takes up, and
almost the very words in which he states them, recall to us ir-
resistibly similar doctrines in Hume, or in Mill, or in Spinoza.
Hume, indeed, is definitely quoted on more than one occasion.
And no one can help feeling that the whole temper of the work
carries on the naturalist tradition. The latter part of the book,
indeed, deals with questions which are already classic in the
history of discussion. One might almost say that here Mr. Eussell
abandons the detached position which he has previously occupied
with regard to these historic controversies, looking on both sides as
being equally victims of some misapprehension. In the old
dispute between naturalism and idealism, he is now definitely on
one side. (This ought, by the way, to be a very welcome event to
those idealists who always felt that the new realism, since it was
anti-idealist, must be only naturalism in a new guise.)

No apology, I think, is necessary for thus treating the present
work as a document in the history of philosophy. It is not only
that what Mr. Eussell thinks to-day a good many people are apt to
think to-morrow (although they may find that by that time
Mr. Eussell is no longer in agreement with them) ; it is still more
that the support of one with Mr. Eussell's traditions was exactly
what the new naturalism stood most in need of. For such a
theory has always found some followers, and a large section of
psychologists have always tended towards it along their own lines.
But since the success of the neo-Kantian attack on empiricism, it
has been generally held among philosophers that whatever partial
truth naturalism might contain as a method of psychology, its
inadequacy was exposed as soon as it attempted a logic or a theory
of knowledge. Now it is precisely in the region of logic and of
theory of knowledge that most of Mr. Eussell's work has hitherto
been done. This new alliance, then, seems to me a philosophical
event of first-rate importance.

It is natural to ask, as Mr. Joachim has already done, how far

9*2 CRITICAL NOTICES:

the new theory can escape objections such as Green and Bradley
directed against the older sensationalism. One must recognise
however that Mr. Russell's position is considerably more subtle
than Hume's. In Hume impressions and ideas are somehow
conscious states. For Mr. Eussell a sensation is a particular
which is in no sense mental ; it is a thing which may enter into
consciousness, but it has no essential connexion with mind.1 But
on the other hand Mr. Eussell' s position is more subtle than that
of the American new realists. He recognises that the conscious-
ness of a sensation must be something much more than the
occurrence of that sensation. Consciousness must be of some-
thing ; there must be some sort of duality or complexity in any
conscious event. Nor is it enough that there should be a sensation
and an image ; there must be a belief-feeling as well. Still further,
says Mr. Russell (and the point, if not the words in which it is
expressed, might almost be taken from some neo-Kantian criticism
of associationism), " it is not enough that the content and the
belief-feeling should co-exist ; it is necessary that there should be a
specific relation between them, of the sort expressed by saying that
the content is what is believed".

The theory then cannot be accused of too great naivete ; Mr.
Russell is perfectly aware that what seems the fundamental fact of
consciousness — that someone is conscious of something — has got to
be satisfactorily explained. The question is whether he has suc-
ceeded in showing how, by adding together particulars which are
themselves only objects, we can reach the kind of complex which
seems to consist in a subject knowing an object.

Now a large number of people, at any rate, when confronted
with a theory such as the present one which appears to succeed in
" constructing " the subject in this way, have an uneasy feeling
that there must be a trick somewhere — that the conclusion seems
plausible only because a subject has been introduced surreptitiously
in the course of the construction. This feeling may really be a
sign that there is something wrong, since it is certain that our first
perception of a flaw in an argument is often a vague discontent of

'This being so, would it not have been better to discard the word
<; sensation " altogether ? Among the many meanings which that word
has had in philosophical discussions, it has always at least meant something
more or less connected with consciousness. Mr, Russell would, I suppose,
reply that the thing which he calls a sensation is the same thing that most
people call a sensation, only those people are in error when they suppose
that the thing in question has anything mental about it ; therefore he has
a perfect right to retain the word while freeing it from its false associa-
tions. But I do not think this would be a sufficient answer. For people,
when they call a thing a sensation, mean to imply that it is mental ; and
if they were convinced that they were mistaken in supposing it to be
mental, they would probably say, not " Well, you have now convinced
me that sensations are not mental," but " I now see that what I thought
to be mental is really not so, and I was therefore mistaken in calling it a
sensation ".

BERTRAND RUSSELL, The Analysis of Mind. 93

this kind ; it may on the other hand be founded on a mere pre-
judice, and in that case we must attempt to overcome it if analysis
discovers no justification for it ; but in either case it is relevant to
register its presence.

My own opinion is that the subject really is introduced in
Mr. Russell's account of knowledge, and that this is done under
cover of what he calls the " belief- feeling ". The " belief -feeling "
is of capital importance in his analysis ; without its presence there
can be no knowledge and no consciousness. It is strange then
that anything which plays so large a part in the theory should
receive such a small share of the limelight. And yet such is the
case. All Mr. Russell tells us is that there are at least three kinds
of belief, memory, expectation and assent, and that each of these is
" presumably a complex sensation demanding analysis ". Some-
times, as in this passage, he calls belief a sensation, but more often
he calls it a feeling ; in any case he does not, he says, profess to be
able to analyse it. But short of analysing it, what justification is
there for calling it a sensation or a feeling and thus getting it to fit
into the general formula ? If we are to talk of a sensation of
belief, surely we must recognise that we are dealing with some-
thing very different from a sensation of blue ; for the essential
characteristic of belief is that it is directed towards something, and
it is only by the possession of this characteristic, which no other
sensation appears to have, that it is capable of playing in know-
ledge the part it does play. I do not see how we can be satisfied
with the statement that mind can be analysed exhaustively into
sensations and images until it has been made much clearer that
belief really is merely a sensation. Nor is the case better if it is
spoken of as a feeling. The only analysis Mr. Eussell gives us of
feelings occurs in chapter iv., and there as we have seen he dis-
tinguishes three possible theories as to their nature. The last of
these — that a feeling consists only in causal properties — he
definitely rejects in the case of belief ; so we are shut up to the
other two, and of those Mr. Russell is bound to choose the second,
that feelings are intrinsic qualities of mental occurrences. Now is
it plausible to say that belief is simply a quality of some sensation
or image, and if so of which sensation or image in the belief-
complex is it a quality ? Not, clearly, of any one of the images of
the content, for the belief is directed towards the whole content.
Are we to say, then, that it is a " quality " of some organic sen-
sation, which forms a part of the belief-complex (though not of the
content believed) ? If so, is it at all intelligible how an organic
sensation can have a quality which has the peculiar characteristic
of being directed towards something ? Mr. Russell's whole treat-
ment of feeling is, however, inadequate ; the above threefold
division of theories is put forward originally as applying only to
pleasure and discomfort, but later on in the book we are referred
to this chapter for the analysis of feeling. And in the end, Mr.
Russell wavers between calling belief a feeling and calling it a

94 CRITICAL NOTICES :

sensation. For my part, until the " belief-feeling " has been
completely analysed and turned inside-out, I shall continue to
believe that within it is concealed something which is neither a
sensation nor an image — something which, if it were let out of the
bag, would upset the whole construction.

One of the classical objections to the older sensationalism was
that it led inevitably to scepticism. This result followed, it was
held, chiefly because sensationalism, starting with nothing but
particulars, could never reach a universal proposition by any valid
process of inference. As regards this point, Mr. Russell's position
is rather peculiar. " I think" he says on page 228, " a logical
argument could be produced to show that universals are part of
the structure of the world, but they are an inferred part, not a part
of our data." And his whole way of speaking in that chapter
emphasises the view that the way in which we know universals is
even more indirect than the way in which we know other things.
When we are " thinking of a universal " the content of conscious-
ness is always a particular. Of course there is always, on Mr.
Russell's view, " an awkward gulf " between content and object
" which raises difficulties for the theory of knowledge " (at least he
says this in the case of memory) ; but the gulf would seem to be
greater than usual in the case of universals, for in their case the
element in the content which " means " the universal is never itself
a universal. " A universal," he says, " never appears before the
mind as a single objecfc in the sort of way in which something
perceived appears " (p. 228). (It is true that this statement is
somewhat difficult to reconcile with the statement on page 274, where
speaking of an image-proposition about the position of a door and
a window, he says " In the case we have just been considering the
objective consists of two parts with a certain relation (that of left-
to-right), and the proposition consists of images of these parts with
the very same relation ". I do not know whether this is to be taken
as implying that there are some universals which can appear before
the mind as single objects ; or that the relation in this case is not a
universal, but only an instance of a universal. However that may
be, the view that only particulars can appear before the mind is
the one emphasised in most passages in the book.) Now, if this is
so, it surely does raise serious difficulties, not indeed as to the
possibility of there being true beliefs, but certainly as to the
possibility of there being reasoned beliefs. The fact that one
proposition implies another can never, on this view, be directly
perceived ; it can only be known in a roundabout manner. I need
not labour the point about the difficulties this raises as to the
possibility of valid inference ; and I do not suppose for a moment
that Mr. Russell is not very much alive to it. But certainly he
does little to remove our difficulties. There are a few sentences on
pages 228-229, outlining the way in which the logician deals with
words which stand for universals, but they are clearly not intended
to do more than glance at the subject. There is also, in the lecture

BERTRAND RUSSELL, The Analysis of Mind. 95

on Truth and Falsehood, a section devoted to verifiability ; but the
difficulties there discussed are such as arise on any theory of
knowledge, whether it admits some sort of immediate awareness or
not. Mr. Eussell has scarcely touched, in fact, on the more special
•difficulties which beset the sensationalist theory of knowledge ; and
since (as I have already said) it was just on this very point that
his aid would have been particularly valuable, one feels a certain
degree of disappointment that he has not here gone more fully into
the matter.

As I have already mentioned, this whole work is an application
of that " scientific method " which Mr. Russell first outlined for us
in his Lowell Lectures. He does not indeed state this fact so
explicitly as in the earlier book ; but the nature of the method is
made clear enough at particular points in the discussion. At such
points it appears how vital for the establishment of his conclusions
the adoption of this method is. It may, therefore, be not irrelevant
to mention a few objections to which the method appears to me to
be open.

Its most characteristic device and the one which the author finds
most useful for his purpose is that which we have already seen
employed in the case of feeling, viz., the definition of a thing in
terms of its properties. By this method we are able, when the
existence of anything is at all doubtful, to " avoid the assumption "
of its existence and yet proceed successfully with our construction.
And Mr. Russell has left the path along which he proceeds to his
goal haunted by the ghosts of such possible existences.

Now if it should be the case — and it is admitted that it may be
the case — that these things, whose existence wre have refrained from
asserting, actually do exist, then our final account of reality will be
an incomplete one. It will not, so far as it goes, be false ; it will
be an accurate account of the nature and connexions of things
other than the things in question ; but incomplete it certainly will
be. Now it may be argued that it is better to assert only what we
are sure of than to strive after completeness (which is in any case
unattainable) by asserting what is doubtful. And no doubt this
statement is an unimpeachable one as it stands. But it assumes —
and the assumption is an important one — that we can divide all the
things of whose reality there is question into two classes, the
undoubted and the doubtful ; and that having done this, we ought
then to define the latter in terms of the former, and so refrain from
asserting their existence. Mr. Russell seems to work on this
assumption throughout the present book ; a fact which I find the
more surprising because in his Lowell Lectures he clearly recog-
nises that only a vague distinction can be made between the
undoubted and the doubtful.

Now suppose there is no clear division between the two classes,
are we, in order to avoid the risk of error, to reduce to the lowest
possible limits the number of things whose existence we assert ?
It is always in our power to do this, for the method is capable of

96 CRITICAL NOTICES:

quite general application ; we can take any kind of entity and define*
it as the class of its properties. Mr. Eussell does not himself
reduce his assertions to the minimum number ; for he asserts the
existence of images, although it is possible to get on without this
assertion.1 He does this, of course, because images seem to him
to belong to the class of undoubted things. But in face of the?
fact that Prof. Watson and a number of his followers deny the
existence of images, it is surely very questionable whether we can-
place them straight off in the undoubted class. And just as-
Mr. Eussell finds the class of undoubted things to be a larger
class than does Prof. Watson, so there are others who find it to-
be a larger class than does Mr. Russell ; there are, for instance,
people who believe that they are immediately aware of the exist-
ence of the subject. It would appear then that the line between-
undoubted and doubtful is not easy to draw ; and so the question
suggested a few lines above " Are we to reduce to the lowest
possible limits the number of things whose existence we assert ? '"
demands an answer.

For my own part, I believe that this question ought to be
answered in the negative, and that if we are to employ the
scientific method, we shall have to supplement it by the use of
other principles as well. The question of whether we are to>
include, in our account of the contents of reality, such things as
physical objects, or feelings, or selves will have to be determined
by balancing a number of considerations ; we shall be influenced on
the one hand by the desire not to assert the existence of anything
whose existence is extremely doubtful, on the other hand by the
desire not to make our account incomplete by omitting anything
whose existence is probable. The determination of the degree of
probability of the existence of any particular thing will itself of
course be a complicated matter and will depend on a number of
different factors. I do not profess to be able to say to what sort of
system of reality the application of such a method would lead us ;
and even to touch on the matter would lead me too far from
Mr. Russell's book. But I may illustrate my meaning by a
reference to one point which is of cardinal importance in Mr.
Russell's theory — the question of the existence of the subject.

Mr. Russell repeats on this point the arguments of Hume and of
James — he has looked for the subject and found nothing but

1 It seems a little difficult to understand why Mr. Russell does not apply
his method to the belief-feeling. He says on page 247 : " Now, it seems
clear that, since believing and considering have different effects if one
produces bodily movements while the other does not, there must be some
intrinsic difference between believing and considering ; for if they were
precisely similar, their effects also would be precisely similar ". But in
whab does this case differ from that of discomfort, which was defined in
terms of causal properties ? It is true that Mr. Russell gives other
arguments for holding that belief differs intrinsically from consideration ;
but the above argument is presented as valid by itself.

BERTKAND KUSSELL, The Analysis of Mind. 97

objects. Dr. Schiller has already replied that he has looked for it in
the wrong place ; but Dr. Schiller and Mr. Kussell start from such
different points of view that to contrast their positions on any point
of detail does not, perhaps, help us very much. There is, however,
another philosopher whose position is 'not so far removed from
Mr. Kussell's, who holds that we have some sort of immediate
consciousness of the subject ; I mean Prof. Alexander. Now
for Prof. Alexander, of course, the consciousness we have of the
subject is of a different kind from the consciousness of objects ;
and doubtless Mr. Eussell would reply to him as he has done to
Dr. Schiller, that he recognises only one way of acquiring know-
ledge, and that is by observation ; the subject can either be observed
or it cannot. But is this not after all to make an assumption ? —
the assumption that all things that are known are known, as it
were, on the same plane. Now whether or not we consider the
notion of " enjoyment " a satisfactory one, it is surely at least
possible that the above assumption is false and that there may be
different ways of knowing things. And if this be granted, then to
begin one's enquiry by refusing to look for reality except by
" contemplation " is to cut oneself off, at the very start, from a
possible source of knowledge.

The fact then that we cannot observe the subject as we do a
sensation ought not to be used in order to rule out at once the
assertions of all those who contend that they have some sort of
immediate consciousness of a subject. There is some evidence then
for the existence of the subject ; and once this is admitted, then
surely the fact that the assumption of the subject enables us to
avoid many difficulties in the theory of knowledge becomes
relevant ; it is one thing to bring in an entity merely in order
to simplify theory of knowledge, it is another thing to do so when
there is already some independent evidence for the existence of
such an entity. Even if, then, it is theoretically possible to get on
without asserting the existence of the subject, it may very well be
that we ought none the less to assert it. We shall have to weigh
the risk of asserting more than we have conclusive evidence for
against the risk of making our account of reality less complete
than it need be by the omission of a thing for whose existence
there is some evidence.

J t would be indefensible, at this time of day, to occupy space in
MIND by enlarging on the proposition that what Mr. Kussell writes
is worth reading. This must be my excuse for having devoted the
present review to criticism rather than to appreciation of his latest
brilliant contribution to philosophy. In most of what I have said,
my complaint has been that he has scarcely allowed himself room,
in the work before us, to give to a number of obscure questions the
fulness of treatment which they demand. Let us hope that
Mr. Kussell will shortly indulge himself — and us — to the extent of
a volume more on the scale of The Principles of Mathematics.

ALAN DOBWABD.

VII— NEW BOOKS.

Studies in Human Nature. By J. B. BAILLIE. London : G. Bell & Sons,
Ltd., 1921. Pp. xii, 296. 15s.

PROP. BAILLIE'S object in this important and welcome collection of essays is
to study certain characters of human nature for their own sakes, and with-
out the bias which interest in a particular theory might give. But his
choice of topics was directed by an interest in the question of the limita-
tions of the intellectualistic attitude which many philosophers adopt.
What does an unbiassed examination of the facts of human nature tell
us of the function of thought in human life, of its relation to the other
human activities, and of the nature of its object ? Setting out with such
a problem, Prof. Baillie would naturally be led to a series of studies such
as those in the present volume.

His answer is on the whole disintegrating ; though the chapter on
"Philosophy in Human Nature " shows that, for the author, philosophy
has an extremely important function. The postulate that the world is
rational is not borne out either by the success of any single philosopher,
or by common agreement among philosophers, or by a steady development
within philosophy itself. The implication that rationality is the most
important and desirable phase of human nature is contradicted by the
facts of human nature. ''Human life is not a scientific enterprise, nor
the universe a mere riddle for philosophers " (11). The rationalistic atti-
tude toward the universe characterises only a small number of men, re-
stricted within narrow limits of space and time, having their habitat just
like certain types of fish or tree.

This view is confirmed by an examination of thought itself, of the
language and concepts which are thought's instrument, and of the non-
logical factors by which thought is guided and sustained. Thinking is a
human process, just like seeing ; and just as seeing is conditioned by the
nature of our eyes, so thinking is conditioned by the nature of our intel-
lect. Our intellect shows itself in the kind of language, the sort of con-
cepts, we construct for the systematisation of reality ; and if cur intellect
were different, our constructions would be different. In this result Prof.
Baillie seems to be perfectly consistent. The argument that awareness
which involves the human organism is conditioned by that organism, while
denied by some, is often accepted as self-evident. It appears to us to be
a very complex question, involving many considerations. But if it is to be
accepted anywhere, then consistency seems to involve that we should
accept it in relation to thought. Prof. Baillie remarks that the processes
leading to error are not in any way different from those leading to truth,
and that hence the results cannot differ in kind in the two cases. As a
consequence, reality is regarded everywhere as intimately bound up with
man's activities. There is no reality external to man for man to know ;
and thus knowing is not an attempt to get into touch with the nature of
something whose nature is independent of man. Knowing becomes an
attempt on the part of man to find satisfaction through the activity of one
aspect of himself. Truth is anthropomorphic.

NEW BOOKS. 99

This is not all. If ib were, it could still be maintained that knowing
is man's central activity, and that systematic completeness of knowledge
is the goil of the process. Prof. Baillie denies this. Knowing is con-
ditioned by certain non-logical factors — emotion, memory, and imagination
are the chief — which restrict its activities and determine its essential
function. Whether the intellect shall be active or not, in what directions
it shall work, how far its activities shall go, depend on the emotional re-
sponse to the environment, on the accuracy and width of memory, on the
imaginative penetration, of the searcher ; and these things differ with
different men. Prof. Baillie would conclude, not that the existence of the
search shows that there is an objective independent of man to be aimed
at, but rather that the search is relative to the searcher. His courageous
working out of this position is extremely valuable as pointing a fruitful
direction for those who regard knowing as a good in itself, but who have
felt disheartened by the apparent inability of knowing to achieve a syste-
matic view of the universe.

Even the logical factors involved in knowing — and for these Prof. Baillie
simply refers us to "current logic" — differ in different men. Men differ
in their sense of what is clear or self-evident, consistent or inconsistent ;
in the reach, complexity, subtlety and precision, of their intellects ; and
thus it would be absurd to expect any measure of agreement in the ulti-
mate intellectual attitude of different men. (The difficulty here is to see
how to understand the "logical " factors. If Prof. Baillie's view is correct,
then a radically different view of the logical factors from that of the
current logic seems necessitated.) The way of intellect is simply one of
the ways in which man seeks self-satisfaction ; and it is to be considered
as parallel in its nature to art and morality. They and it react on one
another, and are to be regarded as organically related parts of man's
whole nature, which seeks, not the self-completeness of any aspect, but
growth through complete activity.

This general attitude (expressed in Essays I., III., VI., VII., VIII.) is
confirmed in detail by the accounts of perception, judgment and infer-
ence (in the second essay), of memory (in Essay IV.) and of emotion
(Essay V.) : where it is contended that each aspect of the self makes its
own unique and distinctive contribution to knowledge, which cannot be
set aside in the interests of the contribution of any other aspect, and
that hence the ideal of systematic completeness cannot be supreme. He
speaks occasionally of his view as involving an appeal to intuition, but
intuition means more than the simple fact that each aspect of the self
stands on its own feet and claims ultimacy within its own sphere. In-
tuition is bound up with feeling. He speaks (82) of the emotional thrill
with which man responds to selected parts of his environment as ' ' one of
the most mysterious manifestations of mental life," and (61) of the full
joy, the complete sense of fulfilment, which successful thinking brings ;
and it is in the light of such statements that we should read the brief
account of intuition on page 74, as the final operation of the mind in know-
ing, " inseparable from feeling and carrying the sense of completed mental
activity or free self-fulfilment ". It is this state of mind which is the goal
of knowledge, and not "a system of thoughts outside the mind".

This whole view, dealing as it does with the most important of all the
philosophical problems of to-day, is expounded with remarkable lucidity
and vigour. The account of certain non-logical factors in knowledge is
the most careful and balanced statement we have yet seen on this subject.
There is an illuminating final essay on ' ' Laughter and Tears " which
treats the subject of laughter in close relation with its opposite.

A companion series of studies, dealing with morality and citizenship,

100 NEW BOOKS.

is foreshadowed in the preface. Readers of the present volume will look
forward to its companion with great interest.

LEONARD RUSSELL.

The Moral and Social Significance of the Conception of Personality. By
the late ARTHUR GEORGE HEATH, M.A., sometime Fellow of New
College, Oxford, and Lieutenant in the 6th Batt. Royal West Kent
Regiment. Oxford : at the Clarendon Press, 1921. Pp. viii, 159.
Price 7s. 6d.

All who have read the Letters of Arthur George Heath, and the brief but
fitting memoir by Prof. Gilbert Murray which prefaced them, must have
realised, even if they did not know him in life, that his death on the field
of battle robbed Oxford and New College of a singularly fine character
and a mind rich in promise of distinction. They will turn with more than
ordinary interest to this short essay, which gained the Green Moral
Philosophy Prize in 1914, and which has now been given to the world by
his friends and literary executors, notwithstanding the fact that Heath
himself, before sailing for France, advised against its being published as
it stands. The decision to override Heath's own judgment must have
been a grave and difficult one, but there is good reason to feel grateful to
the editors for their courage. True, the essay, as they recognise, "will
not win for its author the reputation as a philosopher which he would
have attained if he had lived to complete his life's work" (p. iv), but it
helps one to understand the trend of philosophical thought among the
younger generation of Oxford teachers, and it shows Heath's freshness
and independence in the handling of a well-worn topic.

Oxford, it is clear, is turning away from the idealism of Green and
Caird, Bosanquet and Bradley. Even Plato is mentioned only to be
criticised. The dominant character of this reaction is, broadly, " realistic ".
In the theory of knowledge, its leaders insist upon the distinction between
the act of knowing and the object known. In political theory, they
protest against the "exaltation of the State," against the "social mysti-
cism " which ascribes to the State a consciousness and personality higher
than those of its individual citizens, and expresses itself in Hegel's " Es
ist der Gang Gofctes in der Welt dass der Staat ist". In metaphysics,
they reject the absolute, especially when conceived as an infinite person,
and construe the universe pluralistically as a society of finite spirits. All
these characteristics of a realistic, or at least anti-idealistic, movement of
thought are to be found in Heath's essay, though from its pred ominantly
ethical and political interest the emphasis naturally falls on the second
point, viz., the comparative analysis of forms of social organisation as
making for the more abundant life of individual minds. \ " We are persons
in order that we may become personalities " (p. 4). " The highest goodness
of which we can conceive is only possible ... in the lives of finite
persons " (p. 22). " In the world of spirit the differentiation of personality
is final arid sufficient " (p. 39). " A society of persons knowing the truth,
wishing the good, loving one another and enjoying the fullness of their
lives— such is the ideal of any unsophisticated mind" (p. 50). Sentences
like these recur throughout the essay : they strike its keynote. The
following summary, in the author's own words, best gives the total effect :
" I wish to establish first that though some moral goodness may be found
elsewhere than in persons, its most characteristic forms demand person-
ality : that equally the highest goodness of which we can conceive would
be personal goodness : that it would further be the goodness of finite
personalities who could in no way be absorbed into one another though

NEW BOOKS. 101

they could, and necessarily would, live in intercourse with each other : but
that this society could not be identified with the State, that the attempts
to elevate the State into a moral being higher than any finite individual
must fail, and that the divergence between personal development and
social duty is in some sense a real fact ..." (pp. 7, 8).

The argument in support of these theses, though rather uneven in
quality, improves steadily as the essay proceeds, until it culminates in a
really fine and powerful passage in which Heath prophesies that "as
civilisation advances the present State must decline, and with it also the
economic structure which the State at present partly controls and partly
reflects" (p. 150). This decline of "law and politics " is to come about
through man's advance in the control of Nature and of himself. The
whole thought reminds one of Spinoza's concept of jus in naturam, to
which, however, Heath does not refer. The State, to him, is not the
""supreme form of human organisation " (p. 125), for he restricts the term
explicitly to the sphere of power of the "Sovereign Legislature" (ibid.).
To the State, so conceived, he does indeed concede the very important
functions of being, in "the common interest," the ultimate court of con-
trol over all other forms of social organisation to which its citizens belong ;
and of exercising the supreme power of coercion (Part VII. ). But he
insists that many of the forms of social organisation which the State
supervises and controls, e.g., the family, or the church, realise, as measured
by the quality of individuals' thoughts, purposes and feelings, higher
moral values than does the State. Incidentally, Heath makes some sound
remarks on the relation of the economic to other motives in human con-
duct (Part V., § 2), and shrewdly points out that the socialisation of
industry would not abolish conflicts of interests, but only alter the
machinery for settling them, by substituting the methods of the council
chamber for the methods of the market (Part VI., § 3). No doubt, he
would have put this point differently, had " direct action " been within
his experience. Throughout he is much concerned to argue that the legal
concept of the personality of corporations is a mere fiction, lest it
be exploited in favour of a metaphysical personification of the State.
Everywhere his principle is that "neither in the State nor in the Church
nor any lesser grouping can you find a unit- of value higher than the
individual personality " (p. 89).

In the section on Self-Realisation (Part HI.), Heath argues with much
point that this concept is too vague to supply a standard for the develop-
ment of a man's individuality. So far as it is positive, it calls for breadth
rather than depth. But it leaves us helpless in the face of the problem of
harmonising, except by unsatisfactory compromises, such conflicting ele-
ments of the ideal as action and contemplation, personal enjoyment or
self-cultivation and social service. Heath does not appear to have noticed
that his point here is fundamentally the same as that which Bradley
makes in Appearance and Reality, and A. E. Taylor in The Problem of
Conduct, and that it can be used as a premise for conclusions very different
from his own. In general, morever, his preoccupation with the ideal of a
perfection realised discretely in as many individuals as possible makes him
ignore altogether both vicarious suffering and vicarious achievement. Yet
it may fairly be held that no analysis, be it of individual persons, be it of
social life, which is blind to these two things, does more than scratch the
surface.

But the weakest portions of the essay, to my mind at any rate, are
Parts I. and II. The foundation of Heath's whole position is given in this
sentence : "it appears to me that we regard nothing as good in itself ex-
cept states of consciousness " (p. 9). This judgment is nowhere discussed.
Ko grounds are given, no elucidations offered. We must interpret it, I

102 NEW BOOKS.

think, as implying that also nothing is bad in itself except states of con-
sciousness. Yet there is nowhere any attempt at a discussion of what con-
stitutes badness and goodness in states of consciousness. If, e.g., we
insist on the distinction between the act of thinking and the object of
thought (p. 36), the question at once arises whether goodness and badness
belong to the acts by themselves (which alone, presumably, can be described
as " states of consciousness "), or whether they depend also on the objects.
Moreover, in spite of repeated readings, I cannot make out whether, in
Part I., Heath does or does not intend to distinguish between " moral
goodness "and other forms of " ultimate value ". He begins by distin-
guishing them and enumerates knowledge of the truth, creation of works
of art, and pleasure as non-moral values. But, thereafter, the question of
the " goodness " or " value " of states of consciousness is uniformly treated
as if it were exclusively the question of their moral goodness. And thin
question is further complicated by the distinction between beings who are
conscious and beings who are self-conscious. Only the latter, aware of an
alien world and capable of memory and anticipation, are strictly " persons".
Yet persons share with lower animals certain emotions and impulses. And
thus the problem is posed whether these emotions and impulses "can
have a place in [moral] goodness " (p. 15) when they occur in self-conscious
persons and, again, when they occur in unself-conscious animals. The
whole discussion seems lacking in clearness and grip. Of Part II., which
contains Heath's arguments against The Idea of Infinite Personality, it is
enough to say (1) that, so far as they are polemical (chiefly against Lotze
and Bosanquet) they bring nothing new and leave one wondering whether
Heath really understood what those whom he criticises seek to express ;
and (2), that so far as he insists on the value of finite beings, and
even of the imperfections and limitations of finite beings, he says
nothing which an absolutist could not accept, or which could not be
paralleled, e.g., from Bosanquet's writings. With the question whether
a finite creature is merely finite he does not deal. He simply assumes the
affirmative.

There is a sentence in the Conclusion (p. 156) which makes poignant
reading. "The feeling in the minds of many sincere and loyal citizens
that their country is greater than themselves has to be set aside as mis-
leading, although it is quite true that the individual may realise the
highest within his powers in self-sacrificing devotion ". Supposing death
were an experience which men could survive and learn from, what should
we not give to have Heath's own comments on this judgment now that he
has himself made the supreme sacrifice for his country ?

R. F. A. H.

Collected Scientific Papers. By JOHN HENRY POYNTING, Sc.D., F.R.S.,
Mason Professor of Physics in the University of Birmingham. Cam-
bridge : University Press, 1920. Pp. xxxii + 768.

Friends of the late Prof. Poynting — and they are many — will welcome
this handt-ome memorial volume of his scientific papers which has recently
been published by the Cambridge Press. It has been edited by two of
his junior colleagues, G. A. Shakespear and Guy Barlow ; and interesting
biographical and critical notices by Sir Oliver Lodge, Sir Joseph Larmor,
Sir J. J. Thomson and G. A. Shakespear, have been inserted as an
Introduction.

J. H. Poynting was one of the four first professors of the Mason College,
Birmingham, opened in 1880 by Huxley (who delivered on the occasion
his notable Address on "Science and Culture"). Poynting had been a
student at Owen's College, Manchester, and at Trinity College, Cambridge,

NEW BOOKS. 103

and was Third Wrangler in the Mathematical Tripos of 1876. He was
elected to a Fellowship at Trinity in 1878, and then began in the Caven-
dish Laboratory under Clerk Maxwell a series of experiments on the
mean density of the earth, which occupied him for some twelve years.
When he went to Birmingham in 1880 he had the opportunity of organis-
ing a laboratory of his own, and in it one valuable piece of physical
research after another was undertaken, until his too early death in 1914,
at the age of sixty-two years. As a physicist he is most widely known
through his memoirs " On the Transfer of Energy in the Electromagnetic
Field" (Phil. Trans., A, 1884), and "On Electric Currents and the
Electric and Magnetic Induction in the Surrounding Field " (Phil. Trans.,
A, 1888), both of them included in the present volume, the former
culminating in what Sir Joseph Larmor describes as " the famous result
that will go down to posterity as Poynting's Theorem ". Not only did he
succeed in specifying the path of transfer of electric energy from one
material system to another, but he was likewise enabled to give for the
first time as a very special case the dynamical specification of a ray of
light. For some years before his death he devoted a great deal of atten-
tion to the problems of radiation and radiation-pressure, and made im-
portant contributions to the experimental side of the subject. In these
researches he started with the notion of a beam of light as a carrier of
momentum, as bearing with it a forward push ready to be imparted to
any surface which it meets.

Of the more technical papers which are here collected, I will only say
that many of them give even to an outsider like myself a clearer conception
of the directions in which physicists have recently been moving, and of the
tremendous revolution in physical theories consequent on the discovery
of radium, than can readily be obtained elsewhere. But Prof. Poynting
inherited from his father (the author of a book, published in 1860, entitled
Glimpses of the Heaven that Lies About Us, which in its day occasioned a
considerable amount of discussion) an interest in metaphysical inquiry ;
and in not a few of the essays contained in this volume he is to be found
wrestling with the philosophical questions that lie at the basis of physics,
as also with those questions of philosophical import with which physics
may be said to terminate.

The Address to Section A of the British Association in 1899 (pp.
599-612) is, in mf>re ways than one, anticipatory of Whitehead's Address
to the same Section in 1916. Poynting here emphatically maintains that
the method of physical science consists in searching for likenesses or
similarities, in classing together resembling events, and in thus furnishing
a concise account of the motions and changes observed. Physical laws,
he urges, are just brief descriptions of observed similarities. And he
strongly protests (in a manner that reminds one of Lotze) against phrase-
ology encouraging the anthropomorphic tendency to look upon physical
laws as though they were expressions of fixed purpose and the resulting
constancy of action as though they were commands analogous to legal
enactments. E.<j. , gases are still said to obey or to disobey Boyle's Law,
as if it set forth an ideal or perfect gas for their imitation ; and radiators
to be good or bad, as if it were a duty on their part to radiate well, and
as if there were failures on Nature's part to come up to the proper
standard.

Nevertheless, both in this Address and in other papers, Poynting was
constrained to admit that a certain amount of anthropomorphism is in
science inevitable. The ultimate aim of physical research is, he thought,
to describe sense-data in terms of sen^e-data. But for science at its
present stage to be confined to description of this sort would mean that
great and innumerable gaps would be left in our knowledge ; and,

104 NEW BOOKS.

consequently, the human device of throwing hypothetical bridges across
these gaps to connect what would otherwise be detached regions is bound
to prevail. A "true physicist," a physicist who was a physicist alone,
would, no doubt, be content to describe merely what is observed in the
changes of energy, to say, for instance, that so much kinetic energy ceases
and that so much light appears, or that so much light comes to a surface
and that so much chemical energy takes its place. The human mind,,
however, abhors discontinuity no less than Nature was once supposed to
abhor a vacuum, and accordingly imagines a constitution of matter and
modifications of it corresponding to the different kinds of energy, such
that the discontinuities vanish, and one form of energy can be pictured as
passing into another, while yet remaining the same in kind throughout.
Thus, then, deserting the field of perceived fact, the physicist constructs
a conception of natural mechanism, — a conception which enables him to
explain in terms of motions and accelerations all the various occurrences
of Nature. So far, the only foundation which has served him for this
mechanical explanation has been the atomic and molecular hypothesis of
matter ; that is to say, he connects observed conditions and changes in
gross visible matter by invisible molecular and ethereal machinery. In
other words, "while the building of Nature is growing spontaneously
from within, the model of it, which we seek to construct in our descriptive
science, can only be constructed by means of scaffolding from without, a
scaffolding of hypotheses " (p. 607). Such hypotheses are in terms of our-
selves rather than in terms of Nature, they are ejective rjther than
objective (e.g , the molecular and ethereal machinery has been designed,
so Prof. Poynting believed, partly because our most highly developed
sense is that of sight) ; but, still, the circumstance that the form of a
hypothesis may change, as our knowledge extends, lessens in no way its
present value as an instrument to aid us in the search for truth. We can
recognise to the full how adequately the molecular hypothesis, for example,
enables us to group together large masses of fact which, without it,
would be scattered apart, and continually enables investigators to formu-
late new questions for research.

Several of the papers in this volume deal with the molecular theory.
No more succinct or lucid account of its history has been written than the
article on the " Atomic Theory (Mediaeval and Modern)," which is here
reprinted (pp. 724-741) from Hastings' Encyclopaedia, an article which is
admirably supplemented by the two shorter papers, entitled "Mole-
cules, Atoms and Corpuscles " (pp. 664-672) and "Mysteries of Matter "
(pp. 677-681). While consistently maintaining that the theory is only a
hypothesis, which it is at least conceivable some other hypothesis may
displace, Poynting confessed that it w;>s to him most difficult to suppose
even the possibility of giving up the idea of a grained structure of matter
whatever may be the nature of the grains. In discussing the latest
theory of atomic structure, he expresses doubt as to whether the mass
of electrons can be sufficiently accounted for by the magnetic energy of
their charges when in motion. Certainly, he argues, all our measure-
ments of energy involve the idea of mass, and he makes the suggestion
that perhaps the magnetic energy in the space round the moving electron
may imply the existence of mass in that space to serve as a seat for the
energy. Were this so, the electric theory of mass would only take the
mass from the inside of the moving sphere and spread it through the
outside space, so that we should come back again to the Boscovich-Faraday
conception that an atom is wherever its force acts — not at the centre
alone, but spread out through all space. But, from the point of view of
physics, Poynting did not see his way to reduce, as he put it, all to force.
"We think of force as effort, symbolised by muscular effort; and if we

NEW BOOKS. 105

liave force alone, it is difficult to assign meaning to effort acting on
effort " (p. 730).

In the light of these considerations, it is somewhat surprising to find
him, contending with vehemence that in purely physical inquiries the idea
of ' cause ' is quite out of place, and that it would be a gain to clear
thinking if we could abolish the word from scientific description (p. 602).
For, after all, the idea of ' cause ' is surely no more anthropomorphic than
is, according to his'own showing, the idea of force ; in point of fact, there
is little doubt that the primitive representation of a causal connexion is
derived like the idea of force from the initiation of movement by muscular
effort. And if the ultimate aim of physical science is to describe sense-
data in terms of sense-data, it is hard to see why 'effort' should be
deprived of its significance, for it is as distinctively a sense-datum as a
colour or a sound.

The essay on "Physical Law and Life" (pp. 686-698) is in many
respects a noteworthy production. 'Prof. Poynting would constitute a
sharp antithesis between physical and mental activity and could not see
the remotest likelihood of our ever making out any correspondence between
the two. In a physical system, quantitative values can be assigned to the
different conditions, and the resulting motion can be foretold from their
combination. But we have, he insisted, no such method of rneasuriEg
motives in the mental life. We have absolutely no means of determining
which motive is the ' stronger,' and can only assign such strength to that
irhich ultimately prevails. There is, therefore, no kind of analogy in
fetich a procedure to physical measurement. " Every time an intention is
formed in the mind and a deliberate choice is made we have an event
unlike any previous event. Freedom of will is a simple fact, unlike
anything else, inexplicable " (p. 687).

I must not dwell on the acute criticism of Herbert Spencer's views on
the foundations of our belief in the indestructibility of matter and the
conservation of energy (pp. 588-598), nor on the valuable Address on
"The Growth of the Modern Doctrine of Energy" (pp. 565-575). But,
in view of the current discussions on relativity, attention ought to be
called to the delightful little piece on " Overtaking the Rays of Light "
(pp. 552-556), originally published in 1883. Supposing an observer
moving from the earth with twice the velocity of light towards Sirius,
Prof. Poynting pictures that observer seeing the events of the last ten
years,, all in the reverse order. The earth will appear to him to go the
wrong way round the sun and to rotate the wrong way on its axis ; rivers
will appear to him steadily to flow up towards their source, showers of
rain to start from the earth and rise towards the clouds ; old men will
seem to be dying into life, walking backwards all their days, growing
younger and younger, until at last they are born out of the world as
flourishing babies, at the mature age of three score years and ten. Query,
will the relat vist maintain that presuming this observer had a fair
knowledge of physics and physiology he would yet have no means of
•ascertaining whether he were moving towards the rays of light or they
were moving towards him ?

The volume contains a fine portrait of the author and a complete list of
hie published works.

G. DAWES HIOKS.

Psychology and Mystical Experience. By JOHN HOWLEY, M.A., Professor
of Philosophy, Galway. London: Keyan, Paul, Trench, Trubner &
Co., Ltd. St. Louis M.O. : B. Herder Book Company. 1920. Pp. 275.

There is more in religious experience, according to the writer of this book,
than mere psychology is competent to explain ; but there is also a residuum

106 NEW BOOKS.

with which it may profitably take to do ; and he, as an orthodox Catholic;
and a psychologist, addresses himself to that. His work falls into two Parts
and an Introduction. The Introduction, which is the nucleus out of which,
as he tells us, the whole grew, offers a general view of religious experience.
Part I. then treats of Conversion, while Part II., going a stage deeper,.
makes a study especially of mystic experience and is entitled Introversion.

One may gather what has been the generating interest behind the workr
readily enough, from the Introduction itself. The Author appears to have
gone out to see whether a mystic experience whereof Catholicism might be
regarded as the peculiar custodian could be distinguished effectively from
the many other things which seem like it but perhaps are not the same.
And throughout its whole course, his thought keeps up what might be des-
cribed as a very able, or at anyrate a very creditable, running fight with
divers irregularities in the way of religious experience both within the
Church's pale and without. It would even appear at'points that it is the
Author's opinion that while the "agnostic psychologist," with his merely
scientific equipment, may make something of the mysticism of a Molinos e>r
a Madame Guyon, of Quakerism or Christian Science, of Buddhism,
Theosophy or what not, he is baffled when confronted by the true mystic
experience of Catholicism.

But the Author's acute and learned defence of his views of what
constitutes true mystic experience, may probably be found of much more
permanent interest than his effort to credit this true mysticism especially to
the Catholic Church. It is an important issue intrinsically, which in his
hands takes the characteristically ecclesiastical shape of a question as regards
the respective merits of two ways of devotion, namely Quietism and the
Prayer of Quiet. Presuming that the former is the mother of all disorder,
while the latter has the beginnings of true mystic expeiience in it, he asks
what really is the difference of the two. And the answer arrived at in the
introductory chapter covers very much of what the Author eventually has
to say about true mysticism and false. He finds that in the Prayer of Quiet
the mind is in contact with something genuinely " given," while in Quietism
it has only worked itself up into a certain state. And the criterion by
which he makes the distinction is the presence in the one experience and
the absence from the other of a certain degree of attention. The pre-
supposition seems to be that if the soul is dealing with a " given," then that-
with which it is occupied will not be merely given to it but will elicit its at-
tention and activity to some degree. There will be some, however faint,
sense of concentrating on it. There will be attention, even if "passive"
attention. Where attention is wholly absent [as we should say, where the
given is merely given] the experience is a spurious one. This, the Author
surmises, is the case with the Quietists. Quietism " would seem to have
passivity without attention, to be a rest in self rather than a rest in God "
p. 23).

The formula just quoted contains in nuce the author's substantial criti-
cism of all the ways of mystic experience which he regards as mistaken,
from the Protestant variety of "conversion-phenomena" to the religion*
of the East. There is an inertia in them. Thus he quotes by way of
warning, certain comfortings from Falconi (Letter to a Spiritual Daughter)
in the matter of the criteria of a true spirit of devotion.

" Be careful when doing what I advised you, not to occupy yourself with,
considering that God is present in your soul and in your heart. For al-
though that is a good thing ... it would not be to believe it with sufficient
simplicity. . . . Neither worry yourself to know whether your prayer goes
well or badly. Don't trifle with yourself ... in thinking whether or no
you practise the virtues I have marked for you or other such matters.
This would be to occupy your mind with these feeble considerations and
break the thread of perfect prayer."

NEW BOOKS. 107

So also Molinos,

"Annihilation to be perfect, should extend to the judgments, actions,
inclinations, desires, thoughts, to all the substance of life."

And Malaval,

"We must think of nothing and desire nothing for as long a time as
possible."

And again Guy on,

" This divine life becomes natural to the soul. As the soul no longer feels,
sees or knows itself, it sees nothing of God, understands nothing, distin-
guishes nothing. There is no longer love, light, or knowledge."

"Thus," proceeds the Author, commenting on these errors, "a type of con-
templation which had so largely contributed to the sanctification t f the
companions of St. Chantal was perverted into a system of psychic inertia."
And having found in mental inertia the root of the evil he proceeds to find
here also a characteristic feature of current non-Catholic systems generally.
"We have not only our Quietists to-day," he says, "but we have this in-
duced passivity, this psychic kenosis, as part and parcel of processes
employed by spiritists, faith healers, Christian Scientists, New Thought
folk, indeed of all seekers after the psychic Beyond who are unwilling to be
simple, humble, and obedient. They look to find the Beyond and they find
themselves, to their own destruction."

A touch of the nastiness of the official ecclesiastic is, we are afraid,
inseparable from the tone of this whole book. But it would be a pity to
let this or any other adventitious feature conceal from us the importance
of the task of distinguishing true and false in just the region where the
author is trying to distinguish them. It is fairly plain that there is a good
mysticism and a bad, however unlikely it is that any one body of people
should have a monopoly of the former. But has our Author got hold of
the distinction ? It is possible that he has. If so, it is highly unlikely to
prove in the end to be a line of distinction between sect and sect of
mystics, as he thinks, but simply one between the mysticism which is truly
religious and that which is not, a line of distinction falling within all the
sects. If this point can be made, then much interest attaches to the
author's religious standpoint. All recipes for the treatment of the soul,
whether derived via St. Ignatious or via Freud, would appear to be double-
edged weapons, capable of the basest uses as well as the best ; and the only
guarantee against their detrimental use would seem to lie in the circum-
stance that these powers are recognised as being derived from something
which is, in some sense, as our Author insists, beyond psychology. We
should at least have the assent of this Author to the view that all psycho-
logical medicine must in the last resort be religious ; that that which
places such instruments as its in the discoverer's hands, must itself power-
fully control the discoverer's will, if the discovery is not ultimately to do
harm.

J. W. SCOTT.

The Psychology of Functional Neuroses. By H. L. HOLLINGWORTH,
Associate Professor of Psychology in Columbia University. New
York : D. Appleton & Co., 1920. Pp. xiv + 260. No price given.

This book is based on experience gained by the author at U.S.A. General
Hospital No. 30 during the latter part of the war. This hospital was
devoted exclusively to persistent psychoneurotic cases, of which about
1200 consecutive examples were closely studied. Prof. Hollingworth is
not a medical man and was not concerned with the treatment of patients.
His function as Director of the Hospital Psychological Service seems to

108 NEW BOOKS.

have been to organise a systematic study of patients by means of intelli-
gence tests and analogous methods. The large number of cases available
for observation has enabled him to collect a mass of statistical material
which cannot fail to be of interest and value to students of the subject.
Moreover, as he justly observes, the declaration of the armistice about
midway in the course of the investigation "constituted, on a wholesale
scale entirely unanticipated, a magnificent experiment in psychotherapy.
The therapeutic effects of this event were not only observe 1 in the casual
way so frequently reported, but quantitative measure was secured of the
differential effects in the case of the various diagnostic groups."

It is not possible even to summarise here the statistical results obtained,
which occupy some thirty tables in the book, but it is probable that few
more comprehensive surveys of the intelligence and mental age of different
types of psychoneurotic have been made, if, indeed, the present data have
•any parallel at all. Of considerable interest also is the chapter devoted
to " Irregularity of Profile " in which it is made clear that psychoneurotics
give test performances which are clearly distinguishable from those of
mentally deficient persons, even although the mean score for a number of
tests is the same in each class. Whereas the mentally deficient show low
performances all round, the psychoneurotics produce the same mean result
by scoring abnormally low in some tests and quite high in others. They
show, in fact, a high degree of ' scattering ' and the average deviation of
their scores from the median is much greater than for mental defectives.
In this way it is possible to arrange types of disorder in a series of which
each number approximates more closely to all-round mental deficiency
type. The order given by Prof. Hollingworth is : Hysteria, Epilepsy,
Concussion, Neurasthenia, Psychoneurosis, Constitutional Psychopathy,
Mental Deficiency. Provided that we can be quite sure just what we
mean by these diagnostic terms it seems as if this method of research
might well prove fruitful.

Enough has been said to show that the book contains plenty of facts
for the student of functional disorders, and it is necessary to pay some
attention to the earlier and more theoretical chapters. These, it must
be confessed, are less satisfactory than those just dealt with. Prof.
Hollingworth rightly deplores the tendency observable in some quarters
to take refuge in technical jargon instead of att3mpting to give true
explanations of phenomena. He deprecates, not wholly unjustly perhaps,
the use of such words or phrases as i symbolism,' ' regression,' ' transfer of
libido,' ' siphoning of affects,' etc., and proposes to substitute the concept
of 'redintegration' — a term borrowed from Hamilton and slightly
modified to suit modern psychological thought. By this term is meant
the tendency of a single repeated element of a former complex situation
to evoke in a psychoneurotic the whole complex reaction which originally
corresponded to that situation ; as, for instance, when tha banging of a
door causes a patient to react in every respect as he did in a battle-
situation of which shell and gun explosions were one feature. This
mechanism is, he thinks, adequate to bear the whole weight of ex-
planation in the realm of the psychoneuroses, but this optimistic view
will scarcely be shared by psychologists in general. To say that a single
element tends to recall the whole of which it once formed a part and to
evoke the corresponding complex reaction is a truism which amounts to
no more than a re-statement of the Law of Association ; it does not in
any way explain why, in substantially identical situations, one man should
become paralysed, another mute, a third deaf, and a fourth blind, although
it makes it easy to understand why, when partially recovered, each should
relapse into his own form of derangement for the same apparently
inadequate cause. Apart from these and similar criticisms which seem

NEW BOOKS. 109

fatal to the conception as an explanatory hypothesis, there is nothing to
be said against the way in which the idea is worked out, and the chapter on
the Levels of Redintegration Response is not uninteresting from the
point of view of general psychology.

It is however for the facts rather than for the theories to be found in it
that the book will be helpful.

W. WHATELY SMITH.

Military Psychiatry in Peace aad War. By C. STANFORD READ, M.D*
(Lond.). With two charts. London : Lewis & Co., 1920. Pp. vi,
168.

Of the many psychological books resulting from the War, this is one of
the best; for the writer is fully equipped in normal and morbid psy-
chology ; he has had charge of neurological wards and has visited all the
war mental hospitals in France and Great Britain. The book is at once a
contribution to the positive study of insanity and an important com-
mentary on the "psychogenic origin " of the psychoses. "Those who take
up an essentially materialistic standpoint see the essential factors in the
toxins produced by disease and exhaustion, in the inhalations of noxious
gases, in the effects of direct or indirect concussion brought about by
high explosives. Others believe that the main bulk of the psychoses are
psychogenic in origin and look to mental conflict as the great factor to
study. I hold this latter view-point and shall endeavour to show that
this is as true in the psychoses of war as it is of peace " (p. 25). Dr. Read
first analyses the psychology of the soldier. The chapter is an illuminat-
ing practical application of Freudian views. He comments on the con-
fusions due to the failure of the academic alienists of the past to
distinguish between the insanities proper and the psycho-neuroses.
" Before the Commission which sat to enquire into the recruiting problem,
in the evidence given by the military authorities, the opinion was freely
expressed that if a man was fit enough to do any form of work in civil
life, he was fit to do that work in the army. Never was there a greater
fallacy. Large numbers of cases which have been returned from overseas
with psychopathic symptoms freely illustrate the falsity of this statement.
The mental factor has not had anything like the consideration it should
have received " (p. 24). These ideas are applied in detail to leading forms
of insanity, for example, dementia praecox, paranoid states, confusional
states, manic depressive states, mental deficiency, alcoholic psychoses,
epilepsy and epileptic psychoses, psycho-neurotic disorders, malingering,
suicide— all as affected by war conditions. The book is well documented
from other researches. From every point of view, it deserves to be placed
among the best handbooks of psychiatry.

W. L. M.

Psychologie de I' Enfant ei Pedagogic Expe'rimentale. By Dr. ED-
CLAPAREDE, Professor of Geneva University. Eighth edition, with
a complementary preface. Geneva : Kundig, 1920. Pp. 1 + 570.

This new edition of Claparede's well-known work on educational psychology
contains an introduction of considerable length in which the author en-
deavours to define clearly his attitude towards his subject. He urges that
education must be established upon a scientific basis which takes "know-
ledge of the child " for a starting-point. Hitherto emphasis has been
laid upon the subject taught rather than upon the child to whom it is
taught. Thus we discuss whether education should be classical, scientific
or vocational, and ignore the most important consideration of all, t.e , that

110 NEW BOOKS.

no scheme of education can succeed which is not adapted to the mental and
moral life of the child.

Claparede deals in detail with current objections against "scientific

1. The "common sense" objection that the power of judging and
weighing educational values possessed by the ordinary individual is
adequate will not hold good, for on every educational problem that has
been proposed " common sense " gives conflicting verdicts.

2. It is true that the best educators are born rather than made ; but at
the same time the teacher needs exact knowledge of his craft, just as the
" born musician " needs a knowledge of technique in music.

3. Some say that "experience is the best and only school". What is
really required is a knowledge of the way to profit by experience, and that
knowledge demands of the teacher a study of the human material with
which he has to deal .

Claparede points out that the demand for the application of experimental
psychology to education has come mainly from the teachers themselves, who
are of all people the best acquainted with the defects of the present state
of affairs.

The book as a whole is by now too well known to need detailed descrip-
tion. It contains a vast mass of material, some of which is perhaps rather
uncritically reported, but most of which is interesting. The presentation
is clear, and what general discussion is entered upon is for the most part
extremely well-conducted. It may safely be said that there is hardly
another book which contains so much information of use to the psycho-
logically-minded teacher ; and the information given is always expressed in
a most attractive and suggestive manner.

F. C. B.

Personlichlteit und Weltanschauung : psychologische Untersuchungen zu
Religion, Kunst und Philosophie. By RICHARD MULLER-FBEIENFELS.
Leipzig and Berlin : B. G. Teubner, 1919. Pp. xii, 274.

This work, which the Preface assures us was substantially complete when
the War broke out, is a singularly well documented and persuasive plea for
what the author calls ' psychological relativism,' meaning thereby what is
otherwise known as personalism or humanism. It aims at showing * ' to
an extent not hitherto attempted, that a man's Weltanschauung is the
necessary result of the psychological endowment his life reveals " (p. 264).
It attains its aim by distinguishing a number of psychological types and
tendencies, such as men of feeling, action and thought, depressed and
exalted, dynamic and static, aggressive and pacific, visualising, audile and
motor, concrete and abstract, pluralistic and monistic, types, tracing their
manifestations historically in the actual lives and works of artists, philoso-
phers and religious leaders, and concluding with a more detailed study of the
personality of Luther, Goethe, Wagner, Diirer, and Kant, and its influence
upon their work. The book is well written, and makes out its case. It
should prove a valuable corrective of the one-sided, fanatical and ex-
aggerated * absolutism ' that was rampant in the German philosophic world
before the War, all the more on account of its conciliatory, and even
apologetic, tone. At the same time the author contends that his
relativism is not scepticism ; it merely recognises the facts that truths
for man are not absolute, that no single doctrine is valid for literally all
and that the various ultimate attitudes towards the world are irrefutable,
and appeal variously to different characters, and it leaves open the possibility
that the total truth may eventually be composed by collecting together
the personal views of all (p. 273). He might well have added two more

NEW BOOKS. Ill

points ; one that absolute agreement, if it were possible, would yield a
-world dull and intolerable, like a chorus in which every member sang
precisely the same note, the other that the greater the variety of views
tolerated, the greater and more certain would be the selection of those
that had superior value, either intrinsically or relatively to the personalities
to which they appealed.

F. C. S. SCHILLER.

Fugitive Essays. By JOSIAH ROYCE, with an introduction by Dr. J.
LOEWENBERG. Harvard University Press, 1920. Pp. 429.

Most of these essays — all, in fact, except the last three of them — were
written between 1879 and 1882. As the reader of James's Letters will
remember, Royce, at this period, was a young man of less than thirty,
-eagerly sharpening his philosophical spurs, but feeling himself cabined
within the immensities of the Pacific coast, and complaining, indeed, that
fie was ' the solitary philosopher between Behrings' Strait and Tierra del
Fuego '. ' The World Spirit,' however, to quote him once more, ' found
him at his tasks in a certain place that looks down upon the Bay of San
Francisco,' and was so far propitious to him as to see to the publication
of most of these essays. Indeed, it found a home for some half a dozen
of them locally in The Californian and in The Berkeley Quarterly.

Neither the editor of these essays (Dr. Loewenberg, of Berkeley, whose
piety as a Californian blends with his admiration for Royce's life work
and reaches a point not far short of idolatry) nor anyone else would claim
that these Fugitive Essays attain the level of Royce's mature work. What
is claimed for them is that they are valuable in themselves, since Royce
* simply could not be trivial, ' and that they show a very interesting and
signal continuity in the progress of Royce's philosophy. The editor at-
tempts to demonstrate this continuity in a valuable but slightly ponderous
introduction of some forty pages, and he certainly succeeds in giving
chapter and verse for his opinions, although he seems, to the present
writer, to read somewhat more into his extracts than they can legitimately
bear.

Opinions, no doubt, will differ concerning the value of the essays
themselves, and some may even think that it is always a sound rule to
leave the ephemeral and comparatively immature work of distinguished
men in the obscurity which the authors have not seen fit to disturb. On
the other hand, Royce was so clearly one of the great leaders in the
thought of a continent, and so responsive to the ideas of his time, that
the history of his philosophical development has a great deal of signifi-
cance for the whole story of American philosophy in the generation before
the war, and these essays are very welcome on this account. Royce him-
self wished for no formal biography, apparently because he thought that
biographies of the usual kind are only impertinent chronicles of irrelevant
accidents. What counted, he thought, was a man's work and a man's
mind. But he had a high respect for history, and he would have been
the last to belittle any attempt to illustrate the way in which the World
Spirit seizes hold of those it has chosen.

JOHN LAIRD.

The Moral and Political Philosophy of John Locke. By STIRLING POWER
LAMPRECHT, Ph.D. New York : Columbia University Press, 1918.
Pp. viii, 168.

This work comprises three books, which treat respectively of (1) The tra-
dition in moral and political philosophy before the time of Locke ; (2)

112 NEW BOOKS.

The moral philosophy of Locke ; (o) The social and political philosophy
of Locke. In the introductory book Hobbes and Filmer are dealt with at
some length, the remaining chapters being devoted to a more general ex-
position of the current conception of the ' law of nature ' and of the views
of the seventeenth century Deists in their bearing on ethics. This cannot
be regarded as a complete account of the historical setting of this aspect
of Locke's Thought, and it is to be regretted that Dr. Lamprecht did not
see his way to deal more fully with the theories of Cumberland and the
Cambridge Platonists in this country and with Grotius and Puffendorf
among continental thinkers, to none of whom is there more than an oc-
casional reference.

The exposition here given of Locke's moral philosophy is the most
elaborate attempt which has yet been made to elucidate his thought on
this subject. The writer has made a careful study of his text and has
done well to supplement the scanty indications of the Essay by reference
to Locke's minor writings, including his answers to some of his early
critics. But while he thus presents us with all the relevant materials, he
does not seem to me to be equally successful in his interpretation of them.
Locke's ethical theory on the face of it contains elements which are not
usually found in combination and are not easily reconciled. Under such
circumstances the first business of the historian is to endeavour to ascer-
tain how the different elements were related to each other in his own
thought. Only when this has been done can the degree of coherence at-
tained be profitably discussed. We may not be able at the end, in
Dr. Lamprecht's words, "to fit all he said into one harmonious whole,"
but we are not driven to the alternative of supposing that he committed
himself to a number of different and inconsistent positions, which he
never thought of relating to each other. On the contrary, it seems clear
that the different elements of his theory were regarded by him as comple-
mentary to each other. Thus, while maintaining that the essential part
of morality was demonstrable in a manner analogous to that of mathe-
matics, he held that the abstract cognitions thus obtained possessed in
themselves no motive force, and moreover lacked the essential element of
obligatoriness until they were brought into relation to the divine will.
On the other hand, it was equally vital to his position that the content
of the divine will is to this extent ascertainable by the use of reason. I
can find no basis whatever for the suggestion that moral distinctions were
at times regarded by him as the products of arbitrary will, or for the view
that the nature of virtue was sometimes thought to be determined by the
feeling which he took to be the only possible motive for its pursuit. In
his account of "the content of Locke's rationalistic ethics," Dr. Lam-
precht distinguishes three forms of his theory, according to which morality
is based on (1) The consideration of mixed modes ; (2) The Law of Nature ;
(3) The idea of God. But here, again, (1) and (3) were not for Locke
alternative theories, but complementary aspects of any complete moral
doctrine, while the very conception of a Law of Nature implied for him
that it was both ascertainable by reason and an expression of the divine
will.

When we pass from Locke's ethics to his social and political philosophy,
the materials become of course much more ample. Dr. Lamprecht de-
votes separate chapters to Locke's conception of the State of Nature, his
theory of political society and his views concerning toleration and punish-
ment. Of each of these he gives a clear and adequate account.

J. G.

NEW BOOKS. 113

Received also : —

S. Alexander, Spinoza and Time, London, G. Allen & Unwin, Ltd.,

1921, pp. 80.
W. Windelband, An Introduction to Philosophy, translated by J. McCabe,

London, T. Fisher Unwin, Ltd. , 1921, pp. 365.
E. Bevan, Hellenism and Christianity, London, G. Allen & Unwin, Ltd.,

1921, pp. 275.
H. Hb'ffding, Bemerkungen iiber den platonischen Dialog Parmenides,

Berlin, L. Simion Nf., 1921, pp. 56.

B. Bosanquet, The Meeting of Extremes in Contemporary Philosophy,

London, Macmillan & Co., Ltd., 1921, pp. xxviii, 220.

C. A. Strong, The Wisdom, of the Beasts, London, Constable & Co., Ltd.,

1921, pp. ix, 76.
M. De Unamuno, The Tragic Sense of Life in Men and in Peoples, trans.

by J. E. C. Flitch, London, Macmillan & Co., Ltd., 1921,

pp. xxxv, 332.
S. Pagani, Programma di Bellagio, Lugano, Casa Editrice del Coenobium,

1920, pp. 316.

G. Rensi, Lineamenti di Fllosofia Scettica, 2nd Edition, revised and

enlarged, Bologna, N. Zanichelli, 1921, pp. 442.
C. Guastella, Le Ragione del Fenomenismo, Vol. I. , Palermo, E. Priullar

1921, pp. 869.

A. Renda, La Validita della Keligione, Citta di Castello, Casa Editrice II

" Solco," 1921, pp. 271.
E. Meyerson, De I' Explication dans les Sciences, 2 vols., Paris, Payot et>

Cie, 1921, pp. xiv, 338 ; 469.
G. Urbain, Les Disciplines d'une Science (Encyclopedic Scientifique),.

Paris, G. Doin, 1921, pp. 325.
J. Pacotte, La Physique Theorique Nouvelle, Paris, Gauthier-Villars et

Cie, 1921, pp. vii, 182.
M. Franck, La Loi de Newton est la Loi Unique, Paris, Gauthier-Villars

et Cie, 1921, pp. 158.
J. Lemaire, Etude sur la Connaissance sensible des Objets Exttrieurs,

Liege, Societe Industrielle d'Arts et Metiers, 1921, pp. 57.
The Fourth Dimension Simply Explained, A Collection of Essays,

with an Introduction and Notes by H. P. Manning, London,

Methuen & Co., Ltd., 1921, pp. 251.
Relativity and Gravitation, edited by J. M. Bird, London, Methuen &

Co., Ltd., Il-t21, pp, xiv, 345.
J. Kremer, Einstein und die Weltanschauung 'skrisis, Graz und Wienr

" Styria," 1921, pp. 59.
P. E. More, The Religion of Plato, Princeton University Press, 1921,

pp. xii, 352.

E. E. Thomas, Lotze's Theory of Reality, London, Longmans, Green &

Co., 1921, pp. 1, 217.

Histoire de la Nation Francaise, Tome XII., Histoire des Lettres, Vol. /.,
par J. Bedier, A. Jeanroy et F. Picavet, Paris, Plon-Nourrit et
Cie, 1921, pp. 590.

J. Chevalier, Descartes (Les Maitres de la Pensee Fran9aise), Paris, Plon-
Nourrit et Cie, 1921, pp. vii, 362.

F. Nicolardot, Apropos de Bergson, Paris, J. Vrin, 1921, pp. 174.

E. Brehier, Histoire de la Philosophic allemande, Paris, Payot et Cie>

1921, pp. 160.
E. Aries, L'Oeuvre Scientifique de Sadi Carnot} Paris, Payot et Cie,

pp. 160.

8

114 NEW BOOKS.

F. Florentine, Manuale di Storia della Filosqfia, a Cura di G. Mocticelli,

2 vols., Turin, G. B. Paravia & Co., 1921, pp. xv, 318 ; 38*.
R. Stolzle, Darwins Stellung zum Gottescilauben, Leipzig, F. Meiner,

1922, pp. 34.
O. Kraus, Franz Brentano, zur Kenntnis seines Lebens und seiner Lehre,

mib Beitragen von Carl Stumpf und E. Husserl, Munich, O. Beck,

1919, pp. x, 171.
S. Dasgupta, The Study af Pataiijali, University of Calcutta, 1920,

pp. ii, 207.

G. Dandoy, An Essay on the Doctrine of the Unreality of the World in the

Advaita, Calcutta, A. Rome, 1919, pp. 65.

L. T. Hobhouae, The Elements of Social Justice, London, G. Allen &
Unwin, Ltd., 1922, pp. 208.

A. C. Pigou, The Political Economy of War, London, Macmillan & Co.,
Ltd., 1921, pp. ix, 251.

R. De la Sizeranne, RusJcin e la Eeligione della Bellezza, trans, by
B. Reynaldi, Turin, G. B. Paravia "& Co., 1921, pp. viii, 265.

K. Koffka, Die Grundlagen der Psychischen Entwicklung, eim Einfiihrung
in die Kinderpsycholociie, Osterwieck am Harz, A. W. Ziekfeldt,
1921, pp. vii, 278.

M. Kaufmann-Halle, Die Bcwusstseins-Vorgange bei Suggestion nnd
Hypnose, Halle, C. Marhold, 1921, pp. 36.

>S. Naccarati, The Morphologic Aspect of Intelligence (Archives of Psy-
chology, No. 45), New York, G. E. Stechert & Co., 1921, pp. 44.'

J. H. Leuba, The Belief in God and Immortality, 2nd edition, Chicago,
Open Court Publishing Co., 1921, pp. xxviii, 333.

W. H. B. Stoddart, Mind and its Disorders, 4th edition, London, H. K.
Lewis & Co., Ltd., 1921, pp. xiii, 592.

A. Hoch, Benign Stupors, A Study of a New Manic- Depressive Reaction-
Type, Cambridge University Press, 1921, pp. xi, 284.

J. C. Fliigel, The Psycho- Analytic Study of the Family (International
Psycho-Analytical Library, No. 3), London, International Psycho-
Analytical Press, 1921, pp. x, 259.

O. Pfister, Psycho -Analysis in the Service of Ed-uratinn, London, H.
Kimpton, 1922, pp. xii, 176.

C. W. Valentine, Dreams and the Unconscious, An Introduction to the
Study of Psycho-Anatysis, London, Christophers, 1921, pp. 144.

H. Crichton Miller, The New Psychology and the Teacher, London,
Jarrolds Ltd., pp. 232.

G. Compayre, L 'Adolescenza : Studi di Psicologia e Pedagogia, Turin,
G. B. Paravia & Co., 1921, pp. xii, 125.

0. Capponi, Pensieri sulla Educazione, Turin, G. B. Paravia & Co., 1920,

pp. 114.
R. S. Woodworth, Psychology : A Study of Mental Life, New York,

H. Holt & Co , 1921, pp. x, 580.
S. S. Brierley, An Introduction to Psychology, London, Methueii & Co.,

Ltd., 1921, pp. vii, 152.
M. Ginsberg, The Psychology of Society, London, Methuen & Co. Ltd.,

1921, pp. xvi, 174.
T. W. Mitchell, The Psychology of Medicine, London, Methuen & Co.

Ltd., 1921, pp. vii, U7.
R. H. Hingley, Psycho- Analysis, London, Methuen & Co. Ltd., 1921,

pp. vii, 190.

1. G. Briggs, Epilepsy, Hysteria, and Neurasthenia, London, Methuen &

v. Co. Ltd., 1921, pp. xi, 149.

VIII.— PHILOSOPHICAL PERIODICALS.

BRITISH JOURNAL OF PSYCHOLOGY. Vol. x., Part 4, July, 1920.
S. Wyatt and H. C. Weston contribute a paper on *A Performance
Test under Industrial Conditions '. [A report to th°> Fatigue Research
Board.] The test, applied to a group of cotton operatives, was made
to resemble closely the operations involved in bobbin-winding and was
continued for four weeks. The results gained bear chiefly upon the
method and value of such investigations. The authors concluded that
the time required to perform a given task is the resultant of many factors
besides fatigue, and the effects of fatigue may be considerably reduced or
even entirely hidden by the effects of these other influences. Fatigue
can only be clearly indicated when it has developed to such an extent as
to become the dominant factor in the complex situation. Even though
the operations involved in the test are similar to those which the winders
are in the habit of performing in the course of the ordinary winding
operations, about three weeks must elapse before the winders become
adapted to the test conditions. The effects of practice are distinctly
noticeable throughout the test period, and the least variation from the
usual conditions of labour has a disturbing effect upon the results. Great
individual differences appear even among four workers tested. The
results appear to become more uniform and similar as the test progresses,
but the afternoon results seem to be more irregular than those of the
morning. Thus individual differences decrease as the result of practice,
but the day's work has a variable effect upon different individuals. As a
means of indicating the amount of fatigue produced in any individual by
the industrial conditions under consideration, the test is useless. The
following variable disturbing factors became evident ; (ct) variations in
illumination at the time of the test, which may more than neutralise the
indications of fatigue ; (6) variations in humidity and temperature and air
movements ; (c) variations in the mood of the individual : disturbing
thoughts, of worries or of pleasure, may hinder work ; (d) nervousness
in an operative caused by presence of an investigator. B. Muscio in
4 Fluctuations in Mental Efficiency,' [another report to the Industrial
Fatigue Research Board], concludes, as the result of experiments on
medical and other students, that the capacity to perform various mental
tests (involving a continuous demand on voluntary attention) may vary in
any given individual at different times independently of his working or
restirjg, and that these variations are probably different for different
capacities, suggesting varying organic rhythms. At the same time it
seemed evident that academic study did lower the capacity for inter-
polated tests involving continuous attention, such as the crossing out
of certain selected figures in a page of figures, each in a special
way. The other papers in the number, which are short, are as
follows : J. E. Turner, * Note on Professor J. Laird's Treatment
of Sense Presentations ' ; J. Laird, ' Reply to Mr. J. E. Turner's
Note ' ; William Platt, ' Two Examples of Child-Music ' ; Ernest
W. Braendle, « A Voice Reaction Key ' (with One Diagram) ; William

116 PHILOSOPHICAL PEEIODICALS.

McClelland, ' The Distribution and Reliability of Psychological and
Educational Measurements'; Godfrey H. Thomson, 'The General
Factor Fallacy in Psychology'. Vol. xi., Part 1, October 1920.
Five writers contribute a symposium on 'Mind and Medium in Art,'
presented at the Congress of Philosophy in Oxford, September, 1920.
Charles Marriott sets forth the theory that the true criterion of beauty is
the appropriate use of the material handled. The artistic creation " must
be adapted to the material in which it is represented and to the con-
venience of the hand in using that material. Thus, we expect a broader
treatment of landscape in water-colour than in oils because the, so to
speak, 'natural ' play of water-colour is in broad washes." For him
practical and aesthetic reasons are at bottom the same thing. The writer
claims that his view has the advantage that it abolishes all the dis-
tinctions between one art and another on the grounds of the repre-
sentation or non-representation of nature, and also that it abolishes all
the artificial and uncertain distinctions between various forms of the same
art, such as decorative or pictorial painting, realistic or romantic poetry
or drama. The distinction between one art and another lies in the-
material used — words being the " material " of literature. A. B. Walkley
criticises this view of art as being an external one, and supports the
expressionist theory of Croce. even to the extent that beauty exists to the
fullest degree in the mind of the artist before the material object is.
created. Henry J. Watt argues for the essentiality of a'basis of sensory
beauty in any work of art : he draws upon music for many illustrations-
and criticises equally the utilitarian tendency of Marriott and the
"nerveless abstractions" of Croce, supported by Walkley. Edward
Buliough emphasises the distinction between art in its static aspect
— the objective world of art — and art in its dynamic aspect, i.e., in
artistic creation and aesthetic appreciation. The connecting link between
the medium (material) and the vision of the artist is technique — the
"adaptation of the medium to the vision". The vision must be con-
ceived in terms of the medium, which therefore must profoundly affect
the artist ; but the farther his artistic imagination breaks away from the
tradition of his art and becomes more and more his inner personal
creation, the deeper and the more sweeping the changes which the
simultaneously growing power of his technical imagination introduces
into his handling of the medium. Thus new technical processes, new
tools and methods, new ways of achieving effects and new solutions of
material difficulties are discovered and minister in their turn to the
wealth of his artistic imagination. C. W. Valentine emphasises the
complexity of aesthetic appreciation. The views of Marriott and Walkley
(with Croce) like most theories of the beautiful, err in selecting only one
aspect of the beautiful, which is inadequate, though true so far as it goes.
Croce underestimates the importance of the direct appeal made to us by
such sensory elements as sounds and colours, apart from creative activity
in the appreciator. In many cases such stimulus from without is
essential, and even the artist often embodies his imaginations in a
medium not only to communicate them to others but to make his own
aesthetic experience more complete. Five papers on the subject ' Is
Thinking Merely the Action of Language Mechanisms' (another sym-
posium at the Oxford Conference) are contributed by F. C. Bartlett and
E. M. Smith, Godfrey H. Thomson, T. H. Pear, Arthur Robinson,
and John B. Watson. The number also includes the following papers :
J. C. Fliigel, ' On Local Fatigue in the Auditory System ' ; Daniel J.
Collar, ' A Statistical Survey of Arithmetical Ability ' ; W. T. Waughr
'The Causes of the War in Current Tradition'; Henry J. Watt, 'A
Theory of Binaural Hearing '.

PHILOSOPHICAL PEEIODICALS. 117

INTERNATIONAL JOURNAL OF ETHICS. Vol. xxxi., No. 1. October, 1920.
M. C. Otto. 'Morality as Coercion or Persuasign.' [Oppo-es Prof.
McGiivary's conclusion that might makes right, but maintains relativity
of morality. Emphasises distinction between persuasion, in which the
compelling force is exercised by the ideal itself, and coercion in which it is
exercised by something external. The writer concludes that the funda-
mental problem of morality is to secure the richest total of satisfied desire,
and that the application of intelligence by way of adjustment among
conflicting ideals promises a better issue than warfare.] T. H. Proctor.
'The Motives of the Soldier.' [An estimate of the motives which (1)
induced the citizen to become a soldier and (2) sustained him during the
protracted war, and of the effects of war on him as an ex-service citizen.
States that though English moral standard was exceedingly high few were
influenced by it, and that fear was the predominant motive in the majority
of cases ; in warfare soldier sustained by fear and esprit de corps ; as a
result of war left infinitely poorer morally and drained emotionally.]
Rupert Clendon Lodge. 'Plato and the Judge of Conduct.' [Attempts
to harmonise views of Cambridge and modern Platonists in the view that
everyone philosophises, some more than others, and that " so far as their
judgment is philosophical so far is it valuable".] Ruth M. Gordon.
' Has Mysticism a Moral Value ? ' [Emphasises ego-centric attitude of
many mystics, and suggests that this deprives mysticism of value through
neglect of social nature of morality ; admits value for certain individuals
provided that it is not complete.] Henry T. Secrist. ' Morale and
Morals.' [A brief account of morale in the war, and its part in reinforcing
morals through enlisting compelling force of morale on side of morals ;
suggests applications to civic life.] Eugene W. Lyman. ' The Ethics of
the Wage and Profit System.' [Maintains that under present social
conditions the enterpriser is privileged in the economic scheme, below
him hierarchy of inequalities of opportunity ; if supported by theory
of self-interest as only economic motive reinforces anti-social motives ;
"suggests as solution socialising of economic motive and democratising
of economic method.] No. 2. January, 1921. Frank Chapman Sharp.
* Some Problems of Fair Competition.' [Assuming that fair com-^
petition is seeking success by offering better service than competitors,
and that this is the best solution of the double problem of produc-
ing the maximum desirable of goods and of distributing fairly, dis-
cusses inter alia problems of boycott, special rebates, tying clauses.]
Victor S. Yarros. 'Is there a Law of Human Progress?' [Suggests
that existence of ideals and of efforts to attain them is evidence of
progress, maintains that modern ideals are infinitely higher than those
of Greece, and that progress is characteristic of the human will — almost
a law.] J. E. Turner. 'The Genesis and Differentiation of the Moral
Absolute.' [Advances the view that since mind is a whole, discovering
ideals, each at first an absolute, all these must be related to each other
and to the all-inclusive whole ; discusses the error of isolating intellectual,
.'esthetic and moral ideals, raising the problem as to how the absoluteness
of an all-inclusive ethical criterion can be maintained, and suggests that
personality as an absolute within the Absolute, in touch with it at all its con-
fines,, really constitutes the basal moral criterion.] I. W. Howerth. ' The
Labour Problem from the Social Standpoint.' [Shows how problem is
partially apprehended by Labour, Capital and Consumer ; maintains that
social well-being gives the only complete view of the problem of supplying
economic needs of society with least expenditure of time, means and
energy, and that progressive solution is possible by elimination of un-
necessary labour through legislation, education and organisation of available

118 PHILOSOPHICAL PERIODICALS.

working power thereby making labour attractive.] J. D. Stoops. 'The-
Instinct to Workmanship and the Will to Work. ' [Accepts instincts as
basis of will energy, will as organisation of instincts, emotions and senti-
ments ; shows the need for organisation of work so as to utilise energy
of basic instincts and to develop organised personality ; dissociation of
will and instincts of workmanship and property involves disorganisation,
so that main problem is discovery of inherited capabilities along which
fullest development of personality is possible.] Henry S. Curtis. 'The
Mother's Confessional.' [Justifies sympathetic discussion between mother
and children as relieving fears and reducing unhappiness.] Allan L.
Carter. ' Schiller and Shaftesbury.' [Shows essential similarity derived
from Plato in doctrine of harmony as basic principle, and in general attitude
to ethical problems, e.g., relation to art, immediacy of moral perception,
jural morality, etc. ; discusses main divergences.] No. 4. July, 1921.
Victor S. Yarros. 'Contemporary American Radicalism.' [Upholds
Radicalism — the proposing of fundamental far-reaching measures — as
inevitable and desirable if the civilisation of America is to be saved and
that of Europe cured, particularly with reference to the economic system
and political organisation of which the basic ideals are civil individual
liberty and equality of economic opportunity.] Emile Boutroux. ' The
Immediate Future.' [A plea for universal classical education for the
development of judgment, of moral consciousness and sense of the ideal,
rather than of immediately utilisable capacities, in order to maintain on
a footing of equality the rights of nations as moral individuals despite
inevitable inequalities in extent and power.] Henry Nelson Wieman.
4 Personal and Impersonal Groups. ' [Criticises Prof. J. E. Boodin's view
that small personal groups are the ultimate units of civilisation ; maintains
dyadic nature of human welfare, the fulfilment of central organised ten-
dencies and of peripheral unrelated tendencies, involving two incommen-
surable values, the one spiritual the other material ; of these the former is
increasing in importance but it is necessary to recognise the value of the
impersonal.] Claude C. H. Williamson. 'Progress.' [Maintains that
progress is not a law of human history but is product of persons who will
to serve, that there is continuity in the process of change within the whole,
revealing a growth in value ; emphasises importance of succession of men
of genius as condition for continuation of progress, and suggests that
Christian view of progress is more in agreement with human nature
than pessimism or an optimism regarding progress as automatic.] John
H. Mecklin. 'The Philosopher as Social Interpreter.' [Holds that
American philosophers enjoying the quiet backwaters of philosophic
calm are largely responsible for present moral bankruptcy and aimlessness
of American life ; suggests that they need to live ' in rapport ' with their
fellows, to cultivate the historical attitude and to study immediately
pressing social problems, piecemeal, if necessary, leaving till later the task
of synthesis.] Benjamin Ives Oilman. 'Death Control.' [Analyses
reasons why few can face the problem deliberately and suggests that with
spread of belief in Being of universe a rational hastening of death as
solution of problem would be viewed in hopeful expectancy.] E. A.
Burtt. 'Present-day Tendencies in Ethical Theory.' [Treats question
as to relativity or absoluteness of moral judgments and standards as
outstanding question ; if approached from ethical standpoint, relativity
appears inevitable, if from universal point of view tendency towards
absolutist position, either materialistic or idealistic; alternative, prag-
matic standpoint attempting compromise between relativity and uni-
versality, with ethical standard a type of continuity inherent in the
structure of things.]

PHILOSOPHICAL PEPJODICALS. 119

REVUE DE PHILOSOPHIE. January-February, 1921. Th. Mainage.

'.L'Histoire des Religions a 1'Institut Catholique de Paris.' [Address
delivered at the opening of a new course on the comparative history of
religions. The address contains a discussion of the principles of Evolu-
tionism in religion. The thesis maintained is that Evolutionism is false,
because there was no evolution in religion. The plan of the new course
is mapped out.] R. Guenon. ' Le Theosophisme : Histoire d'une pseudo-
religion.' [Theosophism, not theosophy, the true name for the professions
of the ' Theosophical Society '. Details about the origins of the Society
given to supplement those in a previous article in this review. They
chiefly concern the relations of this with other societies of a more or less
occult character.] P. Vignon. * Pour la philosophic des etres naturels.
Interpretation aristotelicienne de 1'atomisme contemporain.' (Conclusion.)
[A rapid and condensed summary of the conclusions reached by the author
in the preceding articles.] Q. Voisine. * Un nouveau traite de Logique.
(Fin.)1 [M. Goblot (the author reviewed) says (a) that all induction is
based on our confidence in determinism ; (b) that determinism supposes
the constancy and universality of order, without the possibility of excep-
tions, although the possibility of belief in miracles, etc., shows that deter-
minism is a postulate and not a self-evident principle ; (c) that, if miracles,,
free will, etc., are possible, induction is impossible ; (d) that finality does
not suppose an intelligence. These positions attacked. In induction we
presuppose the existence of natures (this idea being formed from experi-
ence). The process of induction consists in discovering the laws according
to which these natures act. A law is a rule for the activity of a being,
and in its metaphysical basis is unchangeable, but it does not apply except
under definite circumstances. Miracles, etc., do not affect the law but
alter the circumstances. The natures have definite tendencies — hence
finality, which may be conscious (intelligent) or unconscious. The latter
presupposes an outside intelligence. Finality, properly understood, does
riot exist without an intelligence.] F. Peillaube. 'Inauguration de
deux nouvelles chaires a la Faculte de Philosophic de 1'Universite libre
de Paris.' [Report of the author (Dean of the Faculty) presented at the
inauguration of the chairs of Droit nature! and Principes chretiens du droit
des c/en*, founded by the ' Fondation des morts de la guerre a 1'Universite
Catholique de Paris'.] Th. Greenwood. 'LeCongresde Philosophic
d'Oxford.' [First part of an account of the congress of September, 1920.
The author takes the papers and discussions in turn, gives their substance
and occasionally adds a short criticism.] March- April, 1921. R. Guenon.
' Le Theosophisme : Histoire d'une pseudo- religion (Suite).' [The basis of
all theosophism is the MahAtmas or " masters ". For the esoteric section
the occult phenomena are also essential. IVJme. Blavatsky's influence and
power of suggestion described. Her so-called Esoteric Buddhism is a
medley of misunderstood Neo-platonisrn, Gnosticism, Jewish Cabala,
Hermetism, Occultism, with scraps of Oriental doctrines, all grouped
round two or three ideas of modern and purely Western origin. The
principal heads of theosophical teaching are : (i) Evolution, fantastically
worked out, including (ii) Re-incarnation. (Both ideas, in the author's
opinion, of quite modern origin.) (iii) The law of karma ( = retribution —
a mistranslation). Theosophism and similar systems unbalance the mind
and are therefore a real danger. Theosophism also discredits Oriental
doctrines with Europeans, and the Western intellect with Orientals.}
G. Fournier. ' L'Influence de Coleridge sur Stuart Mill dans le probleme
de la Necessite et de la Liberte.' [J. S- Mill followed Coleridge in re-
jecting the social theories of Hobbes and Rousseau, and in looking to
history for the method of reconciling necessity and liberty. Necessity
rules the average, liberty accounts for individual divergences. Mill's

120 PHILOSOPHICAL PEKIODICALS.

theory expounded.] A. Dies. 'Revue Critique d'Histoire de la Philo-
sophic antique.' [Conclusion of an article, of which the last instalment
was in April 1913. Short notices of thirty-nine books in various languages,
on Plato, Aristotle, and later philosophers.] F. Monnies. * Le Desir du
Bonheur et 1'Existence de Dieu.' [Discussion of the argument for the
existence of God drawn from the desire of happiness. The author gives
his version of the argument and then shows the invalidity of two other
forms, viz., the argument based on the desire of the Supreme Good, and
the argument from Immanence. His argument is : Happiness is the
object of a natural desire in man. (Terms defined, and proposition
established from experience.) A natural desire cannot be vain. ((i) Es-
tablished a priori from the premiss that everything is capable of
explanation, and (ii) confirmed by analogy with natural tendencies in
plants and animals — there exists that whereby these tendencies can be
satisfied.) For the explanation of this desire a future life and a Bene-
volent Intelligent Providence are required. The argument does not lead
to the existence of God as the Supreme Good.] Th. Greenwood. ' Le
Coiigres d'Oxford (Suite).' [In this part the author limits himself usually
to a report of the discussions, lie ends by remarking an absence of com-
mon ground in philosophical discussions, and a connexion between natural
sciences and modern philosophy.] May-June, 1921. P. Doncceur. ' Le
Nominalisme d'Occam : Theories du mouvement, H u temps et du lieu. ' [The
Scholastics held movement to be transitm a potentia in actum, a reality
which is neither pure act nor pure potency. Occam explains it as ''a form
acquired part by part and connoting the negation of all parts still to
follow ". With him it is not a physical reality but a logical concept. He
identifies Time with movement, and he identifies Place with the body
occupying the place and defiiiing its own bounds ' by not extending its
parts further '.] R. (iuenon. ' Le Theosophisme : Histoire d'une pseudo-
religion (Suite). [The history of theosophism traced from the advent to
power of Mrs. Besant, through the attempts to educate new "messiahs,"
and to found propagandist associations such as the ' Order of the Star in
the East,' up to the latest connexion between the notorious Mr. Lead-
beater and the 'Old Catholic' Bishop A. H. Mathew.] J. Pacheu.
* L'Ecole clu Coeur.' [The phrase means commonly the practice of spirit-
uality in order to remove disorderly affections. But the heart may be
more strictly a s:-hool, since love and knowledge of God interact, love
giving light and light stimulating love. This seen especially in mystical
union, which is wholly one of will, yet thereby the understanding is en-
lightened beyond its natural powers.] B. Romeyer. 'L'ldee de la
Verite dans la Philosophic de S. Augustin.' [Review of a book by Ch.
Boyer. Everything exists as either Pure or participated Being. Our
mind, since it has to conform to its objects and is therefore inferior to
them, can have only participated being. Its objects, in turn, must either
be Pure or participated beings. Hence ultimately we are led to God.
Knowledge is a participated expression of the Divine Ideas. 'Participa-
tion 5 secures alike against Pantheism and Ontologism. But, do not the
Principle of Sufficient Reason, and the Causa Exemplar is offer an
«ven more fundamental explanation?] P. Vignon. 'La Philosophic
de I'Organisme. ' [A favourable review of the French translation of
H. Driesch's well-known book.] A. Ancel. ' L'lnfluence de la Volonte
sur riutelligence dans 1'Exercice de la Pensee et 1' Adhesion an Vrai.'
[The will can and must influence the intelligence in a-sent whenever
there is not complete intrinsic evidence. The act is legitimate if con-
fined to compelling assent, not if extended to affecting the nature or firni-
tieas of assent.] July-August, 1921. X. Moisant. 'La Bienveil-
lance Divine d'apres Saint Thomas.' [An exposition of St. Thomas'

PHILOSOPHICAL PEBIODICALS. 121

teaching on the Benevolentia Dei — the Divine Will loving His
Creatures. The author explains the opposition between the Divine
Benevolence and the human ideal of a selfless love, of an unlimited and
impartial bestowal of benefits. The fact that the Creator is the end of
"the Creature reconciles all contradictions (Theocentrism). On St. Thoma$'
theory the love of self is not denied, nor judged to be evil (Ecstatic
theory), but is included in the love of God (Physical theory). Man, in
seeking good, is seeking God ; though the Fall has blinded him to his
true end. The author also shows how God's love surpasses the human
ideal in efficacity, disinterestedness and other qualities.] R. Gu6non,
f Le Theosophisme (Suite et fin). ' [The final sections of this account deal
with the relations of theosophism with the various branches of what is
called ' irregular ' Free-Masonry, its widespread auxiliaries among humani-
tarian, vegetarian, and pacificist societies of all classes, and, in India, its
political connexion with British Imperialism.] Th. Greenwood. 'La
Methode Pelman.' [Is the undeniable success of Pelmanism due to the
intrinsic value of its methods ? By a detailed analysis, the writer shows
that, while disclaiming any but a practical role, Pelmanism is employ-
ing time-honoured principles of Aristotelian realist philosophy.]
H. Amiard. ' (Jne refutation du Pantheisme.' [Critique in praise
of Father Valensin's article on Pantheism in the Dictionnaire d'Apolo-
gtiique, commending especially his clear exposition of the subject, and the
soundness and originality of his method of refutation. For the latter,
philosophical Pantheism is distinguished into Pantheisme savant and
Pantheisme naif according as it has, or has not, taken account of the
difficulty of identifying a material finite world with a spiritual infinite
God. The Pantlieisme savant cannot be refuted a priori in view of the
Incarnation, but it is shown to be unproved, and to be irreconcilable with
the fact that God and individual men are distinct responsible subjects.]

IX.— NOTES.
PROF. BROAD ON THE EXTERNAL WORLD.

MAY I state a difficulty which I find in Prof. Broad's most instructive
paper on the External World in the October MIND ?

It is, if I understand him rightly, a point which I discussed in my
Logic, ii., 307. But he does not carry it out to the difficulty which I
perhaps wrongly found. The question is whether sensa can be body-
dependent in a certain high degree, being partially conditioned by the
traces left in the body by past experiences (MiND, pp. 391, 395) without
being necessarily mind- dependent also.

My difficulty (Logic, I.e.} was that a bodily response of this kind, in-
volving the operation of influences from past experiences which are active
in present sensation, cannot, so I thought, be got at and exhibited except
through the action of an. organ of sense, which in practice is necessarily a
mental action. I said that if you could get at the response of the eye as-
modified by the bodily conditions, apart from the visual response, you
might find that the mental side of the visual sensation had made no dif-
ference to what the bodily conditions gave. But the idea of doing this is
surely chimerical. And so, practically, it seems to me, if you let in the
bodily traces of past experience as modifying the sensa, you let in all the
modification of mental response that has been included under apperception
or any such term.

When mere external bodily position is in question (MiND, p. 391) I can
see that this does not apply. You can tell, I suppose, how the look of the
penny must alter as a man first looks at it direct and then steps away to*
one side. You can separate that bodily effect deductively, so to speak.
But the other cases on page 391 — must you not take in the mental response
to get the result of the bodily conditions ?

I have no axe to grind — no subjective idealism to maintain — in this
argument. If my thought did create the landscape before my window — a
notion to which I can only with the utmost difficulty attach any meaning
whatever — still the landscape would be there, and we should have to-
acknowledge its physical determinations and connexions.

But the point in question did puzzle me, and I should be glad to see ifc
explained.

B. BOSANQUET.

I. AM not certain whether I fully understand the point raised by Dr.
iBosanquet in his Note on my paper on The External World. On referring
to the passage (Logic, ii., p. 307), which he quotes, I see that he is there
arguing against people who hold that, although we perceive external
things through the medium of eyes, ears, etc., yet this medium makes
no difference to the object perceived. I understand this to be Prof.
Alexander's view, but I find it quite as incredible as Dr. Bosanquet
himself does, and for much the same reasons.

I take it that Dr. Bosanquet is not raising this point in his Note. I

NOTES. 123

understand him to mean one or both of the following closely connected
things : (i) If bodily traces be part-conditions of our sensa they are no
less part-conditions of our sense awareness. Now, if x determines both
y and z and always determines both together, you may be able to say that
z does depend on x, but you have no right to say that » does not depend on
y. y is an invariable accompaniment of z on the hypothesis that y and »
are both invariable accompaniments of x. (Cf. Mr. Russell's argument
that the parallelist who denies interaction commits an inconsistency.)
(ii) After all, the traces are hypothetical ; what you can actually observe
is the sensa and their qualities and the act of sensing. Hence it is closer
to the facts to say that the sensum depends in part on the mental act
than to say that it depends in part on the hypothetical bodily trace.

If this be Dr. Bosanquet's contention, I must plead guilty ; and I
cannot at present offer any satisfactory answer. I purposely omitted the
question of the physiological conditions of sensation so far as I could, and
no complete answer to Dr. Bosanquet's point could be given till this
question has been properly threshed out. At present I find it most
puzzling ; and I feel that no philosopher, Realist or Idealist, has tackled
it satisfactorily. Perhaps I may end by pointing out what seem to me the
two chief difficulties : (i) If we treat our bodies as a kind of medium,
they are a medium that goes everywhere with us, and therefore we cannot
allow for their effects. Thus the supposed sensa in places where there
are no living bodies (on such a theory as Russell's, e.g.) are as purely
hypothetical as the old physical object conceived as a cause of sensations.
(ii) Our bodies seem partly to condition the sensa themselves, and partly
to condition what goes on in our minds. Can we draw a distinct line
anywhere between these two sets of effects ? How far does what happens
in my body simply determine thab I shall sense one rather than another
of several coexisting sensa ? And how far does it actually determine the
properties of sensa themselves ? I imagine that these are the kind of
questions that Dr. Bosanquet has in mind. If so,, I fully admit their
importance, and can only say that I wish I knew how to answer them.

C. D. BROAD.

DEATH OF M. EMILE BOUTROUX.

BY the death on 21st November of M. Emile Boutroux at the age of
seventy-six the world is deprived of a philosopher of international reputa-
tion and of a personality beloved and respected by all who knew him.
Jjmile Boutroux was born at Montrouge (Seine) in 1848, and entered the
Ecole Normale Superieure in 1865. In 1869 he went to Heidelberg, where
he worked under Zeller, the first part of whose History of Greek Philo-
sophy he translated later into French. Boutroux took his degree at the
Sorbonne in 1874, presenting as his thesis a work entitled De la Contin-
yence des Lois de la Nature. This work was first published in 1879, when,
however, it attracted but little attention. But on its republication in
1895 it was recognised as containing that which had provided the point
of departure for the speculation of Bergson and Le Roy, who had been
Boutroux's pupils, and it has since gone through a large number of
editions, besides being translated into the other principal languages. The
volume designated De Vide'e de loi naturelle dans la science et dans la
philosophic, published in 1895, was a continuation of the same theme.
Boutroux was the author of many other works dealing especially with the
history of philosophy. In 1904 and 1905 he was Gilford Lecturer in

124 NOTES.

Glasgow, where he lectured in French on La Nature et V Esprit, his first
course being on " Nature " and his second on " Spirit ". These lectures
have never been published; but a portion of the material of them is evidently
embodied in the book on Science et Religion dans la philosophie contem-
poraine which appealed in French in 1908, and in English in 1909. As
Professor in the University of Paris, a position to which he was appointed
in 1888 and which he resigned a few years ago, he exerted considerable
influence upon successive generations of students ; and as Director (since
1902) of the Fondatiou Thiers he came into close contact with a large
number of younger men who were engaged in original research of a philo-
sophical kind. The death in 1919 of his wife, a sister of Henri Poincare,
was a severe blow to him, but he retained to the end his wonderful vivacity
and charm of manner, as also his deep interest in philosophical problems
and social affairs. As late as the December of 1914, he visited England
to deliver the Hertz lecture at the British Academy on "Certitude and
Truth ". This lecture was reprinted in 1916 with a number of other essays
in a volume entitled Philosophy and War — a volume in which there is no
bitterness, but in which the hope is repeatedly expressed that the Germany
which was respected and admired by the whole world, the Germany of
Leibniz and Goethe, may yet some day be reborn.

ERRATUM.

The Editor regrets that, through a mistake for which he alone is to
blame, the following corrections need to be made in the last number of
MIND and in the Table of Contents of Vol. XXX. :—
P. 498, 1. 16 from bottom, for "Rivista di Filosofia Neo-Scolastica "

read " Rivista di Filosofia".

P. 499, 1. 3, before "Anno xiii." insert "Rivista di Filosofia Neo-
Scolastica ".
Contents, p. viii, after 1. 22 insert —

Rivista di Filosofia (xiii. 1 ; Jan. -March, 1921) . . .498
and for 1. 24 substitute

Rivista di Filosofia Neo-Scolastica (xiii. 2 ; March- April,

1921) 500

MIND ASSOCIATION.

The following is the full list of the officers and members,
of the Association : —

OFFICEKS.

President— PHOT?. S. ALEXANDER.

Vice-Presidents— PROFS. J. B. BAILLIE, B. BOSANQUET, H. WILDON
CARR, T. CASE, G. DA WES HICKS, F. B. JEVONS, J. H. MUIR-
HEAD, A. S. PRINGLE-PATTISON, C. READ, J. A. SMITH, N. KEMP
SMITH, W. R. SORLEY, G. F. STOUT, and J. WARD, PRINCIPAL
G. GALLOWAY, DR. J. M. E. McTAGGART, and THE VERY REV.
DR. HASTINGS RASHDALL

Editor— D-&. G. E. MOORE.

Treasurer— DR. F. C. S. SCHILLER.

Secretary— Ma. G. R. G. MURE.

Guarantors— THE RIGHT HON. A. J. BALFOUR, VISCOUNT HALDANE.,
and MRS. HENRY SIDGWICK.

MEMBEES.

ALEXANDER (Prof. S.), The University, Manchester.

ANDERSON (J.), Department of Philosophy, The University, Edinburgh.

ANDERSON (Prof. W.), University College, Auckland, N.Z.

ATTLEE (C. M.), 19 Elvetham Road, Edgbaston, Birmingham.

BAILLIE (Prof. J. B.), King's College, Aberdeen.
BAIN (Mrs.), 50 Osborne Place, Aberdeen. Hon. Member.
BALFOUR (Rt. Hon. A. J.), Whittingehame, Prestonkirk, N.B.
BARAL (Prof. S. N.), Gaurisankar-Saeter, Lille Elvedalen, Alvdal, Nor-
way.

BARKER (H.), Cairnmuir Road, Corstorphine, Edinburgh.
BENECKE (E. C.), 182 Denmark Hill, London, S.E.
BENETT (W.), Oatlands, Warborough, Wallingford.
BERKELEY (Capt. H.)., Painswick, Gloucestershire.
BLUNT (H. W.), 183 Woodstock Road, Oxford.
BONAR (J.), 1 Redington Road, Hampstead, N.W.
BOSANQUET (Prof. B.), Heath Cottage, Oxshott, Surrey.
BOWMAN (Prof. A. A.), Princeton University, N.J., U.S.A.
BRADLEY (F. H.), Merton College, Oxford.

BRAHAM (Rev. E. G.), c/o Randall & Co., Newfoundland Street, BristoL
BREN (Rev. R.), 68 Wheeleys Road, Edgbaston, Birmingham.
BRETT (Prof. G. S.), The University, Toronto, Canada.
BROAD (Prof. C. D.), The University, Bristol.
BROUGH (Prof. J.), Hampden House, London, N.W.

CAMERON (Rev. Dr. J. R.), 6 Albyn Terrace, Aberdeen.

CARPENTER (Rev. Dr. J. E.), 11 Marston Ferry Road, Oxford.

CARR (Prof. H. W.), 107 Church St., Chelsea, S.W. 3.

CARR (W.), 58 Elm Park Rd., Chelsea, S.W. 3.

CASE (T.), Corpus Christi College, Oxford.

CHANG (W. S.), 74 High St., Oxford.

CODDINGTON (F. J. 0.), Training College, Sheffield.

COIT (Dr. S.), 30 Hyde Park Gate, London, S.W.

CONNELL (Rev. J. D.),United Free Manse, Nailston, Renfrew.

COOKE (H. P.), Clevelands, Lyndewode Road, Cambridge.

COOKS (Dr. R. B.), Cornell University, Ithaca, U.S.A.

D'ARCY (Rev. M. C.), St. Bruno's College, St. Asaph, Wales.
DAVIDSON (Prof. W. L.), 8 Queen's Gardens, Aberdeen.

126 MIND ASSOCIATION.

DESSOULAVY (Rev. Dr. C.), Pennybridge, Mayfield, Sussex.

DIXON (Capt. E. T.), Racketts, Hythe, Hants.

DODD (P. W.), Jesus College, Oxford.

DORWARD (A. J.), Queen's University, Belfast.

DOUGLAS (G. M.), Auchlochan, Lesmahagow, Lanarkshire.

DOUGLAS (Prof. W.), Rangoon College, Rangoon, Burma.

DUDDINGTON (Mrs. N. A.), 13 Carlton Terrace, Child's Hill, N.W. 2.

EDGELL (Miss B.), 15 Lyon Road, Harrow.

EDWARD (Rev. Dr. K.), Mansefield, Peebles.

ELIOT (Sir C. N. E.), K.C.M.G., The British Embassy, Tokio, Japan.

ENGLISH (Dr. H. B.), Antioch College, Yellow Springs, 0., U.S.A.

FAWCETT (E. D.), Sommerheim, Wengen, Switzerland.

FIELD (G. C.), The University, Liverpool.

FLOWER (Rev. J. C.). Park Street Chapel, Bolton.

FORSYTE (Prof. T. M.), Grey College, Bloemfontein, South Africa.

GALLAGHER (Rev. J.), Crowton Vicarage, Northwich.

GALLOWAY (Principal G.), St. Mary's College, St. Andrews, N.B.

GEIKIE-COBB (Rev. Dr. W. F.), 40 Cathcart Road, S.W. 10.

GIBSON (Prof. J.), Bron Hwfa, Bangor, Wales.

GIBSON (Prof. W. R. B.), The University, Melbourne, Australia.

GOLDSBOROUGH (Dr. G. F.), Church Side, Herne Hill, S.E.

GORDON (Rev. A. G.), Kettle Manse, Fife.

GRANGER (Prof. F.), University College, Nottingham.

GREIG (J. T. T.), Armstrong College, Newcastle-on-Tyne.

HALDANE (Rt. Hon. Viscount), 28 Queen Anne's Gate, London, S.W.

HALLETT (H. F.), The University, Leeds.

HAMPTON (Prof. H. V.), Karnatak College, Dharwar, Bombay, India.

HARDIE (R. P.), 13 Palmerston Road, Edinburgh.

HARRIS (C. R. S.), All Souls' College, Oxford.

HARVEY (J. W.), The University, Birmingham.

HASAN (S. Z.), New College, Oxford.

HAZLITT (Miss V.), 50 Southwood Lane, Highgate, N.

HEADLY (L. C.), House on the Hill, Woodhouse Eaves, Loughborough.

HENDERSON (C. G.), Bijapur, India.

HETHERINGTON (Principal H. T. W.), University College, Exeter.

HICKS (Prof. G. D.), 9 Cranmer Road, Cambridge.

HOERNLE (Prof. R. F. A.), Armstrong College, Newcastle-on-Tyne.

INGHAM (C. B.), Moira House, Eastbourne.

JAMES (Rev. J. G.), Flowerdale, Potters Road, New Barnet.
JEVONS (Dr. F. B.), Bishop Hatfield's Hall, Durham.
JOACHIM (Prof. H. H.), New College, Oxford.
JONES (Miss E. E. C.), Meldon, Weston-super-Mare.
JONES (Prof. Sir H.), 1 The College, Glasgow.
JONES (Rev. Dr. W. Tudor), 14 Clifton Park, Bristol.
JOSEPH (H. W. B.), New College, Oxford.

KARPUR SHRINIVASA RAO (Raja), Charnarajapet, Bangalore, India.

KEANE (Rev. H.), Stonyhurst College, Blackburn.

KEATINGE (Dr. M. W.), Tommy's Heath, Boar's Hill, Oxford.

KEYNES (Dr. J. N.), 6 Harvey Road, Cambridge.

KIRKBY (Rev. Dr. P. J.), Saham Rectory, Watton, Norfolk.

KNAPTON (Rev. A. J.), The Vicarage, Glee St. Margaret, Craven Arms

Salop.
KNOX (Capt. H. V.), 3 Crick Road, Oxford.

LAING (B. M.), The University, Sheffield.
LAIRD (Prof. J.), Queen's University, Belfast.
LATTA (Prof. R.), 4 The College, Glasgow.
LAZARUS (S. C.), Balliol College, Oxford.
LEGQE (A. E. J.), Kingsmead, Windsor Forest.

MIND ASSOCIATION.

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VOL. xxxi. No. 122.] [APRIL, 1922.

MIND

A QUARTERLY REVIEW

OF

PSYCHOLOGY AND PHILOSOPHY

I.— THE PSYCHOLOGICAL ACCOMPANIMENTS
OF INSTINCTIVE ACTION.

BY G. C. FIELD.

IN a previous article on this subject I attempted to make
some suggestions about the proper method of approach to the
problems of Instinct and instinctive action. And in the
course of that article I referred to the views of those who
hold that every kind of activity which we can call instinctive
is necessarily accompanied by some kind or another of
conscious experience, and that one way, perhaps for the
psychologist the only way, of defining instinctive behaviour
is to state the particular form of conscious experience by
which it is accompanied. I propose now to attempt an
examination of this point of view, and to ask whether every
kind of instinctive behaviour is necessarily accompanied by
some one kind of conscious experience, and if so, by what
kind.

At the outset we must distinguish between two different
questions. It is one thing to ask whether all instinctive be-
haviour, in particular, instinctive bodily action, is necessarily
accompanied by one kind of conscious mental process, and
quite another to ask whether certain kinds of conscious
mental process should be properly described as instinctive in
the same sense as certain instinctive bodily actions, even
though the two forms of activity, the conscious mental pro-
cesses and the bodily actions, are not always or necessarily
found together. Our opinion on the latter point will largely
depend on how much we include in our definition of Instinct
and instinctive. If, for instance, anything that proceeds

9

130 G. c. FIELD:

from our innate psycho-physical structure is to be called in-
stinctive, we shall probably not have much difficulty in apply-
ing the term at any rate to many of our conscious mental
processes. If we mean more than that by the use of the
term ' instinctive/ it will be a matter for investigation in each
particular case whether the conscious mental process in
question resembles the instinctive action to such an extent
that we are warranted in applying the same term ' instinctive '
to both of them. Some of the precautions suggested in my
last article might possibly be found to bear on this investiga-
tion. But in any case, that is not the question which is
being discussed in the present paper, which deals only with
the former question. What, if any, are the conscious mental
processes which always and necessarily accompany instinctive
behaviour ?

It seems to me that any discussion of Instinct must start
from an examination of instinctive bodily action, because it
is to this kind of behaviour that the term ' instinctive ' is
universally and unquestioningly recognised to apply. And
no definition of the term could possibly be accepted unless it
could be applied to the bodily actions which are admitted by
everyone to be properly called instinctive. But before we
ask what are the conscious accompaniments of this kind of
action, there is one other preliminary consideration that we
must bear in mind. We, like many at any rate of the other
animals, are conscious beings. And therefore any kind of
action, instinctive or otherwise, taken while we are conscious
must have some kind of conscious accompaniment. But
that would not warrant us in putting the conscious accompani-
ment that we found in any particular case of instinctive action
into the definition of " instinctive," unless we had reason to
believe that there was some necessary connexion between the
action and the conscious accompaniment, so that we could
not have one without the other. It is possible that, in our-
selves for instance, instinctive action might be accompanied
by some form of consciousness without being necessarily con-
nected with, still less conditioned or affected by this conscious-
ness. In such a case it would be clearly wrong to give the
conscious accompaniment in our definition of instinctive
action.

One more principle of method may be suggested. It seems
likely that a good deal of the difficulties and differences of
opinion upon the subject arise because investigators have
started the consideration of it from a complicated particular
instance or a border-line case, where instinct was clearly
mixed up with a good deal else or where it was uncertain

PSYCHOLOGICAL ACCOMPANIMENTS OF INSTINCTIVE ACTION. 131

whether the behaviour in question should properly be called
instinctive or not. As a general rule it seems preferable, if
we are to start with an investigation of a particular instance
at all, to start with an instance which unquestionably belongs
tg the class of things which we are discussing, and where
there is as little as possible of any other element. Then in
the light of what we have learned from that we may consider
the border-line cases. Thus in the case of Instinct it seems
to me advisable to start, not from the behaviour of man and
the difficult question exactly how much of this behaviour we
can call instinctive and how much is due to other factors, nor
even from moorhens diving and a discussion of the exact
point of time at which their behaviour becomes modified by
experience, but rather from certain actions of insects where
we seem to get as close as possible to purely instinctive
action.

Take any typical instances of insect behaviour. We find
a series of actions, often very complicated, performed with
extreme precision, and the whole admirably adapted to fulfil
a certain purpose, the preservation of the insect itself or the
preservation of its offspring. The Ammophila wasp seizes a
caterpillar, stings it in the exact places where the sting will
paralyse it without killing it, places it at the end of the
burrow it has dug, lays an egg on it, and then seals up the
end of the burrow.1 Thus it secures that the larva will be
hatched out of the egg in safety, and will have the supply of
fresh meat which is needful for it to grow to maturity. Here
is an action which, if performed by a human being, could only
be explained by a great amount of acquired knowledge and
skill, a clear foresight of the end to be attained, and an under-
standing of the exact means necessary to attain it. But we
know that the insect cannot have learnt or acquired this
knowledge, and cannot have any foresight of the result which
it never sees or has seen. We may say further that it shows
no interest in the result. And it is clear, also, if we consider
experiments like those of Fabre and Captain K. W. G.
Kingston, described in his fascinating book, A Naturalist in
Himalaya, that there is no understanding of the situation
and of what is happening, and no capacity for analysing and
distinguishing the elements of the situation or for modifying
the action to suit changes artificially produced.

Thus the Ammophila, if her burrow is broken open while
she is collecting material to seal it up, and the caterpillar and

1 1 am aware that the experiments of the Peckhams threw some doubt
on the alleged infallible skill of the operation. But the exact degree of
accuracy displayed by the wasp is immaterial to the present argument.

132 G. c. FIELD:

egg extracted and laid outside the door, will make no effort
to repair the burrow nor to replace the caterpillar and the
egg which are lying in full view, but will calmly proceed to
seal up the burrow as if nothing had happened. The Mason
Bee builds cells of mortar and fills them with honey. If the
cells are broken down before they are completed she builds
them up again. But once they are completed she must go
on to put the honey in, and if they are broken down after
this, she makes no effort to repair them, but goes on putting
the honey in, cheerfully oblivious of the fact that it is all
running out again before her eyes. The spider builds her
wonderful web in a certain order ; and if the work she has
already done is cut or broken, she does not turn back to re-
pair it, though she has all the resources necessary for that
purpose, but goes on in the fixed order, irrespective of the
fact that the web is getting into a worse and wTorse tangle all
the time, so that it would be almost useless for her purposes.

It is clear from these and many other instances, both from
the character of the action and from the conditions under
which it takes place, that these actions of insects are certainly
not caused or accompanied by anything remotely like the
state of mind from which a similar action would proceed in
the case of a human being. But from what state of mind
do they proceed ? What conscious experience necessarily ac-
companies instinctive action ? Let us consider the possi-
bilities.

(1) There may be the consciousness of movement, the
feeling in the muscles or the rest of the body when any part
of the body moves or is moved. This consciousness must be
thought of rather as the result of the movement than as its
cause : it does not, by itself, affect or modify the movement
in any way. To describe it in terms of our own experience,
we should say that we feel the body moving without being
able to control or check the movement ; as when we blink
our eyes in response to a sudden and unexpected feint of a
blow. ('2) There may be foresight and desire not of the
ultimate result but of each particular movement. We can
find this, too, in our own experience. We may want to get
up and stretch ourselves ; we may, if we are young and active
enough, want to jump or run, not with any thought of any
results that may be produced, but simply, as we say, for the
mere pleasure of jumping and running. This may be desire
in the full sense, involving a previous idea of the movement
and a desire to realise that idea. Perhaps, therefore, the
Mason Bee desires to go through in this order each of the
particular actions involved in building her cells and filling

PSYCHOLOGICAL ACCOMPANIMENTS OF INSTINCTIVE ACTION. 133

them with honey, though she may have no desire at all that
the cells should be built and filled with honey. (3) Mr.
Shand says that the invariable conscious accompaniment of
instinctive action is ' a feeling of impulse.' I confess to
finding this phrase ambiguous. It may be applied to either
of the two previous experiences. But I cannot find in my
own experience a third thing, different in kind from either
of these two, to which the name could be properly applied.
(4) It might be, as Dr. McDougall suggests, that instinctive
action is always accompanied by an emotion, each kind of
action being bound up with a particular emotion. (5) Finally,
there is Dr. James Drever's suggestion that instinctive action
is invariably accompanied by a feeling of interest. But this
phrase by itself is obscure, and may mean several different
things. It might, for instance, refer to an interest in the
external stimulus, the situation or that factor in the situation
which is the occasion of the instinctive action. Thus it might
be argued that, if the sight of a caterpillar stimulates the
wasp to seize it and sting it in a particular way, the wasp
must have had a feeling of interest in the caterpillar to make
her notice it in all its surroundings. This would be a pre-
liminary feeling of interest, necessary to set the action going.
But that is quite a different thing from an interest in either
(a) an idea of the movements, which is in consciousness be-
fore the movements take place, (6) the results, immediate
or remote, produced by the movement, or (c) the actual
movements themselves, while they are going on. And there
is a further distinction to be borne in mind. If we say that
there is a feeling of interest in the movements themselves,
that is by no means the same thing as saying that the feeling
of interest causes or determines the movements. We can
see the difference in our own experience of reflex action. If
a doctor tests our reflexes, we may be very keenly interested
in the movements that we make, but it is obvious that we
cannot say in any sense that our interest determines or causes
the knee-jerks, which would occur just the same whether we
were interested or not. So that a ' feeling of interest ' may
mean several different things, any one of which may be
present without the others.

Perhaps as a representative instance of the views which
assign the maximum amount of conscious accompaniment to
instinctive action we may take the account given by Prof.
Stout in the last edition of his Manual of Psychology. Any
statement from such a source comes to us with particular
weight and authority, and we are not likely to find an abler
statement of the views in question anywhere else. It may,

134 G. C. FIELD:

therefore, be worth while to give a somewhat detailed ex-
amination of the account there put forward. It is to be found
in Book III., Chapter I. of the third edition of the Manual, and
more especially in various passages on pages 343-357.

Prof. Stout is concerned to distinguish instinctive action
sharply and definitely from reflex action, with which it is so
often identified. ' Reflex action,' he writes (p. 343), 'is of a
nature fundamentally different from instinctive conduct. The
difference is that instinctive conduct does and reflex action
does not presuppose the co-operation of intelligent conscious-
ness, including under this head interest, attention, variation
of behaviour according as its results are satisfactory or un-
satisfactory, and the power of learning by experience.' This
is clearly not a mere arbitrary statement of the kind of
behaviour to which he proposes to apply the term ' instinctive,'
for he asserts the presence of these elements in action to
which the term ' instinctive ' would be applied by universal
agreement, including instances of the behaviour of insects
such as those described above.

The first difficulty that I find in this account lies in the
distinction on which it is based between instinctive and re-
flex action. A good deal of the argument seems to me to be
vitiated by being based on a comparison between an experi-
ence of reflex action in ourselves and instinctive action as
shown, say, in insects. Because reflex action in ourselves
is comparatively simple and limited, Prof. Stout seems to
argue that the behaviour of insects, which does not display
this simplicity and these limitations, must therefore be ac-
companied by conscious and intelligent processes which are
not present in the case of reflex action. But that is surely
to beg the question. For the point at issue is just this,
whether it is not possible for reflex action, as we know it, to
be developed in other species to a very much higher pitch of
complication and elaboration.

Further, a good many of Prof. Stout's arguments about
instinctive action would, it seems to me, apply with equal
force to reflex action. In our own case reflex actions, of
course, may be accompanied by a considerable amount of in-
telligent consciousness. And, owing to the presence of this
intelligent consciousness in us, we may sometimes to some
degree check, control or modify the reflex action. Thus we
may suppress or partially suppress a sneeze or the blinking
of our eyes at the feint of a blow. We say that the re-
sultant action in such a case is not entirely reflex, but that
part of it is intelligently controlled, thus still retaining the
sharp distinction between what is due to the reflex and what

PSYCHOLOGICAL ACCOMPANIMENTS OF INSTINCTIVE ACTION. 135

is due to intelligence. But why should we not speak in
the same way of instinctive action ? The question is not
whether animals which act instinctively may or may not
sometimes modify their behaviour under the influence of in-
telligence. It is rather whether instinctive action is neces-
sarily bound up with and determined by intelligence, whether
it is from the beginning, as Prof. Stout says (p. 357), ' essen-
tially conditioned by intelligent consciousness '. Prof. Stout's
argument that subsequent modifications of behaviour by in-
telligence prove that the behaviour must have been deter-
mined by conscious intelligence from the beginning, would
surely, then, apply with equal force to reflex action. For
that also, as in the case of the suppressed sneeze, may be
modified by intelligence. And, so far as it is based on such
considerations, the distinction between instinctive and reflex
action seems to fall to the ground. And there seems so far
no reason why we should not say of instinctive action, as we
do of reflex action, that it is qua instinctive essentially
different from and undetermined by intelligence, though in
any particular case the behaviour, which would otherwise be
purely instinctive, might be modified by intelligence.

But we must examine further the case for the influence of
intelligence in behaviour which is usually regarded as in-
stinctive. I may be unduly sceptical, but I confess that I am
still not perfectly convinced by any of the evidence I have
yet seen for the actual occurrence of intelligent action in
insect behaviour. The great difficulty, I suppose, in assum-
ing its presence is that, if it is there, its action seems extra-
ordinarily fitful and erratic. Some of the very few alleged
cases, if due to intelligence at all, seem to argue a relatively
high development of that faculty. And yet in other cases
which do not seem to call for any greater exercise of it, the
same insect will fail so conspicuously to show the slightest
signs of its presence. Of course, the same thing may strike
us at first sight in the behaviour of certain human beings.
But in such cases a very little inspection will probably show
us some ground or principle of these limitations in the appli-
cation of intelligence. But it is difficult to find any such in-
telligible principle in these instances of insect behaviour.

But apart from that the instances themselves seem to lack
decisiveness. A good many of those which are commonly
quoted do not seem to necessitate an ascription of them to
intelligence at all. When a physical hindrance to the per-
formance of the actual movements calls forth a response
which did not show itself when the movement was un-
hindered, it seems just as natural to say that a difference in

136 G. c. FIELD:

the stimulus produced a different reaction as to suppose an
intelligent appreciation of the situation. There is no diffi-
culty that I can see in supposing some such kind of alterna-
tive mechanism in the animal's structure which could vary
the action in response to a perceptible difference in the sur-
rounding circumstances. Such a case would be that of Dr.
Peckham's wasps who tried to drag into the burrow spiders
which were too large and stuck in the entrance or half-way
down, whereupon they brought the spider out and enlarged
the burrow before taking it in again. The single instance
which he reported where a wasp on one occasion enlarged
the burrow before finding that the spider stuck in it is on a
different footing. There, certainly, the most natural explana-
tion of the action would be an intelligent appreciation of the
situation. But such a case is almost unique. And there is
this to be noted about it and the one or two other cases which
stand on the same footing. So far as I know, they are all
isolated cases observed under natural conditions. I do not
think that any such cases were found under experimentally
controlled conditions, which seem to have given uniformly
negative results. That, at any rate, is Fabre's conclusion.

In spite of these considerations, I would not demand of
others that they share my scepticism. It may possibly be a
personal reaction against an earlier tendency to anthropo-
morphise unduly the behaviour of animals. And it is cer-
tainly not in any way essential to my argument to maintain
that insects never show any intelligent modification of
behaviour. But I do maintain that a great deal, if not most
of their behaviour shows no signs of intelligence at all, and
is,* indeed, such that it is very difficult to suppose its presence
or its influence.

We have not yet come face to face with the question,
What do we mean by this intelligent consciousness about
which we are arguing ? How much do we include in it ?
Prof. Stout answers (p. 354) that the minimum that we
must include in it is, ' (1) attention selective and prospective,
making possible the guidance of motor activity by complex
and variable groups of sensory data ; (2) appreciation of re-
lative success and failure, making possible persistency with
varied effort.' Let us consider these points.

(1) Is all attention necessarily intelligent? It seems to
me difficult to apply the term to cases, for instance, of in-
voluntary attention aroused by the intensity of the stimulus,
such as a sudden bright light or loud explosion, or to the
attention that we give to the stimulus of a reflex action, such
as the blow aimed at our face which makes us flinch and

PSYCHOLOGICAL ACCOMPANIMENTS OF INSTINCTIVE ACTION. 137

blink our eyes. Strictly speaking, I should have thought
that intelligence could only be asserted of attention which is
due to some previous process of thought, and that it involved
some kind of knowledge of what it was that we were looking
for. But this is clearly not the case with the wasp who
attends to the caterpillar the first time that she catches one
as intensely as the last. I do not see any evidence that there
is anything resembling our voluntary and conscious selective
attention. The wasp does not know what she is looking for,
and we do not even know that she is conscious of looking for
anything. She may just as well feel simply impelled to fly
about until a caterpillar crosses her field of vision, when the
impulse to further action follows at once.

And what is her awareness of the caterpillar like ? What
does it mean to her ? It seems to me that the caterpillar
means to the wasp simply a certain action with regard to it
and nothing more. It certainly cannot mean food for her
offspring. Andlt seems equally evident that it does not even
mean a well-stocked burrow with an egg on the top, or she
would not regard both caterpillar and egg with such complete
indifference as she did in Captain Hingston's experiment,
when the burrow was broken open and the caterpillar and
egg laid in full view outside the entrance. And, as this and
similar experiments show, the caterpillar only means this
action to her at a certain stage in the whole instinctive pro-
cess. At other stages it seems to mean nothing at all to her.
As Fabre repeatedly points out, there seems no capacity in
insects for going back over any stage in a process once com-
pleted and repairing damage or doing over again what has
once been done. So that it seems natural to say that the
action is not determined by the consciousness of the object
but rather that it determines the consciousness, if indeed
there is anything that we could call consciousness at all. For
if the object simply means a certain action to the wasp and
nothing more, I should even question whether we can properly
speak of a conscious awareness of it at all. I would rather
say that the attention is part of the action, and as such con-
ditioned by the innate structure of the animal just as the rest
of the action is, not that the attention causes or conditions
the action.

(2) But it is the second of Prof. Stout's conditions which
is the real crux of the question, the appreciation of relative
success and failure, and the consequent power of varying
effort. A good deal here obviously depends on the degree of
qualification implied by the term ' relative '. It might so cut
down the meaning of success and failure as to leave nothing

138 G. c. FIELD:

but the consciousness of whether the action was proceeding
smoothly unhindered by immediate physical obstruction. It
is natural to believe that there is this amount of consciousness,
though it would obviously be impossible either to prove or
disprove it. But that by itself would hardly amount to in-
telligence. And Prof. Stout clearly means more than that.
For he speaks (p. 351) of the animals being ' continuously
interested in the development of what is for them one and
the same situation or course of events,' and of their ' trying
again when a certain perceptible result is not attained'.

If this were indisputably shown to be present, it might or
might not be a proof of intelligence. But it seems to me
that these are just the features which the behaviour of insects
under experimental conditions does not show. I should have
thought that a ' continuous interest in the development of
the situation ' involved at the very least a realisation of the
connexion between the different stages in the process, and an
interest in the preservation of the perceptible results already
attained. But it is difficult to claim this either for Captain
Kingston's wasp, or for Fabre's Mason Bees, who went on
filling their cells with honey after they had been visibly
broken open. It might be said that the Mason Bees showed
an interest in the process of building their cell until that task
was completed, and then transferred this interest to the filling
of them with honey. But what sort of ' interest ' can this be
which is thus divided up into absolutely water-tight compart-
ments, so that it can suddenly stop short at one point in a
continuous process and, as it were, start afresh ? For the
process is obviously continuous and the latter stages are
closely connected with the former. I find it difficult to believe
in this continuous interest, and impossible to believe that
there is any intelligent appreciation of the process as a whole.
As for the ' perceptible result,' surely a spider's web would
afford an illustration and a test case of this, if anything did.
And yet in Captain Kingston's experiment, already referred
to, the perceptible result was conspicuously not attained, and
yet the spider seemed quite undisturbed by this. She only
altered her behaviour when the cutting of the web went so
far that her freedom of movement in the path marked out
by her routine was checked. And this seems the character-
istic of nearly all the reported cases of modification of be-
haviour : it only occurs when the actual physical movement
is interfered with. And this makes it difficult to believe that
in ordinary insect behaviour there is any interest or apprecia-
tion of a perceptible result beyond the actual action itself.

If the foregoing argument is correct, it follows that a great

PSYCHOLOGICAL ACCOMPANIMENTS OF INSTINCTIVE ACTION. 139

deal of insect behaviour, at any rate, is not conditioned or
caused by intelligent consciousness at all. It may, no doubt,
give rise to consciousness, the consciousness of the movement
itself, such as we experience ourselves in the case of reflex
action. That can hardly be proved or disproved, because
consciousness of this kind does not, of course, directly affect
the movement itself, and therefore cannot be inferred from
any characteristic of the movement. With regard to the
consciousness of the stimulus object, the caterpillar which
the wasp seizes, for instance, there may be consciousness of
that, of a sort. But it does not rise to anything that we can
call intelligent consciousness. And it does not seem absolutely
necessary to suppose the presence of consciousness at all.
The facts are equally consistent with the view that the
physical action of the visible object on the sense-organ of the
animal translates itself at once into the appropriate action,
without the accompaniment of the psychological experience
which we call awareness of the object in our own case. The
one kind of consciousness which it does seem most natural to
ascribe to the insect is a vague feeling of uneasiness and dis-
satisfaction when the action, once started, is checked or
hindered by some physical obstruction. And it might be
possible to work out a view on this basis, developing a hint of
Bergson's, according to which consciousness would only arise
when instinctive action failed to complete itself. But such
a view would, of course, be pure hypothesis.

In the light of all these considerations, what are we to say
about Dr. McDougall's view that the essential conscious ac-
companiment of instinctive action is emotion, each kind of
instinctive action being correlated with a particular emotion ?
As thus simply stated, this view seems to me to have been
too thoroughly riddled with criticism by writers like Mr.
Shand, Dr. Eivers and others, to be any longer accepted.
Obviously, it would be very difficult to assign a special
emotion to each of the very complex kinds of action performed
by insects. But even if we consider the higher animals the
view is hard to maintain.. It has often been pointed out that
we find different emotions accompanying the same action and
different actions accompanying the same emotion. But the
criticisms of the view go deeper than this. For they raise the
question whether actions and emotions necessarily accom-
pany one another at all, and whether in many cases at any
rate, they do not appear as alternative and even mutually ex-
clusive reactions to a particular situation. In our own ex-
perience, as Mr. Shand suggests, we find that the emotion of
fear, for instance, is felt less intensely the more quickly we

140 G. c. FIELD:

are able to meet the dangerous situation by action, and may
even not be felt at all at the time. It is when we think of
the situation afterwards, or, one may add, when we are pre-
vented by physical circumstances from acting, that we feel
fear. And Dr. Rivers suggests that a strong emotion of fear
would rather hinder the performance of the instinctive actions
of escape, especially if they demanded a series of difficult and
delicately adjusted movements.

I cannot help feeling that there is possibly in this view a
certain confusion between instinctive actions of the kind we
are discussing and the bodily expression of emotion which we
really feel as part of the emotion. These bodily expressions
of emotion may perhaps be properly described as themselves
instinctive : they certainly share many of the characteristics
which we ascribe to instinctive actions. But instinctive
action in the strict sense is almost certainly independent of
emotion and need not be accompanied by it at all. And
when we are speaking of these bodily expressions of emotion
it is entirely misleading to speak of the emotion and the in-
stinct as being correlated or connected, or to use any ex-
pression which implies that there are two different things
with a relation between them. In cases of emotional expres-
sion, if we speak of instinct at all, the emotion is the instinct.
There are not three different things, the emotion, the instinct,
and the action to which the instinct leads, but two only, the
emotion and the action in which it expresses itself. In one
of Dr. McDougall's instances — the emotion of fear and the
instinct of flight — if flight follows immediately on fear as the
expression of it and has that felt connexion with it that, for
instance, the visceral sensations and the trembling of the
body have, then the emotion of fear is the instinct of flight.
But, as we have just seen, it seems probable in most cases
that the instinctive action of flight is entirely independent of
the emotion of fear.

The whole question of the emotions of animals is a difficult
and interesting one. It is, of course, beyond question that
many animals do feel emotion. But it is equally certain
that in many situations where we should naturally ascribe
emotion to them further investigation raises doubt. Is, for
instance, the care that some insects display for their offspring
accompanied by the tender emotion which we usually suppose
to characterise the maternal relation ? Prof. Washburn re-
lates the story of a wasp feeding a wasp grub, who finally
cut off one end of the grub and offered it to the other end to
eat. As she truly says, it is difficult to suppose the presence
of tender emotion towards the grub in the mind of the wasp.

PSYCHOLOGICAL ACCOMPANIMENTS OF INSTINCTIVE ACTION. 141

And cases not so far removed from this may be found even
among higher mammals. What evidence are we to accept
for the presence of emotion in any particular case ? I would
suggest very tentatively some such test as this : If all the
visible actions of the animal can be explained as being part
of or having some bearing on a whole course of action leading
up to a result, then there is no evidence of the presence of
emotion. If, on the other hand, in cases where we might
reasonably expect emotion to be felt, there are any actions
which seem to play no part in such a definite course of action,
these may be taken as possible expressions of emotion and
therefore a sign of its presence. Such would be the move-
ment of a dog's tail, indicating affection or pleasure, and the
similar movements of a cat's tail, indicating anger or excite-
ment. Of course, the strength of such evidence becomes
much greater when the expression of a suspected emotion in
an animal resembles in some degree the expression of a
similar emotion in human beings.

A whole flood of light is thrown on all these questions
by the experiments on animals, such as those of Schrader,
Goltz and Sherrington, on which Prof. Lloyd Morgan, in
Instinct and Experience, bases his theory of instinct as the
work of the sub-cortical centres. In these experiments it
was found that animals, from whom had been removed that
part of the brain which is usually supposed to be the seat of
consciousness and intelligence, were yet capable of move-
ments which were far more developed and complicated than
anything that we should normally call mere reflex action.
The decerebrate pigeon, for instance, could fly and avoid
obstacles in doing so, could eat, could peck, clean its feathers
and so on. And yet, as far as we can tell, it was, in Prof.
Lloyd Morgan's words, ' a mere unconscious automaton '.
Unless we are going to throw overboard the whole of the
physiology of the brain, the conclusion seems inevitable that
instinctive action is independent of any kind of consciousness,
in the sense that it can take place equally well without it,
and is not caused or conditioned by it in any way. This is,
of course, in flat contradiction of the views that we have been
considering, and takes us, indeed, very much further than
our criticisms of these views have so far enabled us to go.
And yet it is difficult to see how it is possible to avoid this
conclusion, which takes us straight back to the old view that
instinctive action is simply more complicated reflex action.

Finally, we may perhaps gain some light on the question
by a consideration of our own experience of habitual actions,
say, the adjustments of balance that we make in riding a

142 G. c. FIELD:

bicycle, or various little bad habits, like biting the nails, etc.
Here we have actions, sometimes fairly complicated, which
take place just as well, or perhaps better, when our interest
or attention is concentrated on something else altogether.
There is certainly no feeling of interest either in the actions
themselves or the stimulus which leads to them. They are
at the very margin of consciousness, and probably in some
cases sink below the level of consciousness altogether.
Certainly they are not, at the moment of action, caused or
controlled or conditioned by consciousness in any way.

This is not a proof that instinctive actions are necessarily
of the same nature, unless we adopt the view, to me unten-
able, that instinctive actions are historically derived from
habitual actions. But it does afford an illustration of the
kind of thing that our argument so far seems to show in-
stinctive actions to be. And at least, if we find these char-
acteristics in habitual actions, it does afford to us a sufficient
refutation of those who say that it is impossible that instinctive
actions should show similar characteristics.

If we adopt this conclusion, we shall clearly have to modify
some of our ordinary modes of speech about Instinct. As
applied to our test case of instinctive bodily action, Instinct
must be thought of as a general characteristic of certain
forms of behaviour. We may describe this characteristic
biologically by its origin, i.e., by saying that it is inherited or
innate, and by its results, and we can describe it physiologically
in terms of the particular kind of bodily and nervous structure
which conditions it. But if we are taking the strictly psycho-
logical point of view and asking what is its connexion with
conscious experience, we can only describe it negatively by
asserting its independence of any form of this. Nor must we
speak of Instinct being modified by intelligence or experi-
ence or habit. Such a way of speaking implies that the be-
haviour is affected by one or other of these factors, and yet
still remains instinctive. Whereas on our account just in
so far as the behaviour is affected by these it loses its char-
acteristic of being instinctive. Behaviour, of course, is
modified by intelligence and experience. But it is a contra-
diction in terms to say that Instinct is. We must not, on
the other hand, say that an animal is necessarily unconscious
because it acts instinctively. We can only say that, as far as
the animal is acting instinctively, its action is not affected by
the presence of consciousness. If the animal is endowed with
consciousness, it will be conscious of the instinctive action as
we are conscious of our reflex movements. The conscious-
ness, that is to say, will be of the action and follow from it.

PSYCHOLOGICAL ACCOMPANIMENTS OF INSTINCTIVE ACTION. 143

There will also be some kind of immediate consciousness of
the stimulus, but only as that which causes the action. There
may be more consciousness than this, there may be, for in-
stance, reflexion and intelligent interest. But if that ceases
to be a mere onlooker and modifies the action, then the action
so far ceases to be instinctive. And there need be no more
consciousness than we have described. That is, assuming
that the animal is endowed with consciousness. But the
mere presence of instinctive actions does not by itself neces-
sitate the belief in the presence of consciousness at all.

These are the characteristics of instinctive action. It is
obvious that no other form of behaviour, no thought or feel-
ing, for instance, can share in all these characteristics. A
thought or feeling, being a form of consciousness, cannot
be described as independent of consciousness. It might,
however, be independent of other forms of consciousness, it
might be due to an innate mental structure, it might be un-
affected by previous experience or by foresight of any end.
If we start, then, from instinctive action as the limiting case,
we can see how far any of its characteristics are shared by
other forms of behaviour, and then decide whether they ap-
proach near enough to it to have the term 'instinctive'
applied to them as well.

II.— AN IDEALIST IN EXTREMIS.1
BY F. C. S. SCHILLER,

To write the history of Neo-Realism would be a consider-
able service to philosophy. It would be interesting to trace
it to its sources, to determine its points of departure, to study
the influences that moulded its developments, the aims it
envisaged, the conclusions it arrived at, and above all the
persons that were the authors of its being and steered its
course. A similar service might be performed for Neo-Ideal-
ism and many other tendencies in modern Philosophy. When
this had been done, it might be possible to show that they all
converged towards certain points on the philosophic horizon ;
or at least it might appear that they were all infected with
the spirit and the vices of the age. But anyone who searched
this book for anything of this sort, for the continuous narra-
tive and objective treatment of such a history, would certainly
be disappointed. He would have mistaken Dr. Bosanquet's
purpose and method. His book is not a history of philosophy.
It could not be. For philosophy has no history. All great
philosophers have always been agreed. They have always
meant one thing, and the same thing. It has been called
O-M or O-N, as the case may be : but it is always O-N-E. As-
suredly, philosophy can have no history. Nothing has, that
really is, and is really true. And Dr. Bosanquet is much too
wise to attempt the impossible.

What he attempts is something very different. He sets
himself to show modern philosophers where they have gone
wrong, and to rebuke them for backsliding. They have all, or
nearly all, strayed from the straight path of orthodoxy that
leads to salvation in the One, and fallen into heresy.2 Not
only the ' new ' realists (Eussell, Alexander, the American Six),
but the ' critical ' (especially Pratt), not only the 'new ' idealists
(Croce, Gentile, etc.), but even one so old and eminent as

1 The Meeting of Extremes in Contemporary Philosophy. By Bernard
Bosanquet, Fellow of the British Academy. Macmillan & Co., London,
1921. Pp. xxxi, 220.

2 The only apparent exception is Mr. Bradley ; and even his reputation
is preserved only by passing over sub silentio his coquettings with scepticism
and pragmatism, to which I devoted an article in MIND, No. 95.

F. c. s. SCHILLEE: AN IDEALIST IN EXTREMIS. 145

Viscount Haldane, come in for more or less direct censure.
The most pernicious of their heresies, in which the extremes
of Neo-Eealism and Neo-Idealism meet, and consort with the
'untouchable ' pariahs of pragmatism, are 'moralism,' ' pro-
gressism' and 'temporalism,' i.e., the belief that time is real,
and that reality can change. These are the fundamental
errors which the spirit of the age imposes (p. 100) ; but they
naturally annoy Dr. Bosanquet. Still he contrives to write
about them with his usual urbanity, more in sorrow than in
anger. He begins to see red only when Absolutism is classified
as a form of ' intellectualism ' (cf. pp. 100, 114 f., 198), which
he resents as a " dyslogistic epithet " (though, curiously
enough, he uses it himself as such on p. 61 !), or when it is
credited with a ' block universe ' — for all the world as
though the inventors of this harmless phrase had called the
believers in it ' blockheads ' ! With these exceptions he
keeps his temper admirably, and naturally excites sympathy
as an Athanasius contra mundum. Here, one thinks, is a
heroic Hegelian assuming a truly tragic posture in the last
ditch, distressfully beholding the cosmic process (which never-
theless is wholly rational and the revelation of all Rationality)
not only continuing, otiosely and sans meaning, after its secret
has been completely eviscerated, but actually repudiating the
absolute truth revealed to Hegel.

Dr. Bosanquet, however, does not really need our sympathy.
He should be imagined rather as seated aloft, like Olympian
Zeus, in a " truly speculative attitude, free, concrete, penetrat-
ing and widely appreciative " (p. viii), contemplating the
little systems and contentions of fallible men, and " the really
startling difference and agreement between the Italian neo-
idealists . . . and the English and American neo-realists "
(ibid.}, and watching " the neo-realist, the man of compara-
tive science, and the empiricist everywhere at work to-day
. . . building One foundations l of that speculative philosophy
whose superstructure already exists " 1 (p. 75). After that it
is clear, on his own showing, that Dr. Bosanquet 's place in
Reality is Nephelococcygia, and his time, the Divine Night of
the Absolute that follows upon the Odtterddmmerung, in
which (as the Master hath said) all cows are black and all
donkeys loom alike. There is need, therefore, for a search-
light, to flash upon whatever looks ' suggestive' or c instruc-
tive ' in the light of the Eternal Truth. And Dr. Bosanquet
makes great play with it.

At first, indeed, his procedure seems a little arbitrary. He

1 Italics mine.
10

146 P. c. s. SCHILLEE:

plunges in medias res, and picks up a doctrine here and a dictum
there from a philosopher who can bear the label, either of
' neo-realist ' or of ' neo-idealist,' and compares it with another,
similarly selected, discoursing about them in the pleasantly
allusive, but somewhat involved, style which is such a valu-
able adjunct to a philosophic, as to a prophetic, reputation.
But as he warms to his work his argument grows more con-
tinuous and incisive, and in the end one feels that not only
has he made out as good a case as anyone for the "faith"
(pp. 200, 216) that all is one, but that he has advanced a
number of contentions which are real contributions to philo-
sophic debate, and demand examination.

As such I would enumerate (1) the exposition of the onto-
logical argument in chapters ii.-iv., (2) the discussion of
' 7 + 5 = 12 ' in chapter v., (3) the criticism of progress, (4)
the necessity of the all-inclusive system or whole, and (5) the
ultimate inconceivability of change and time.

(1) Dr. Bosanquet is fully aware that the ' ontological '
argument is essential to his contentions. He has to prove it
' sound ' in principle (p. 48). He has to remove its restriction
to the existence of God (p. 83). He has to show that " every
essence has in some degree a claim l and nisus to existence "
(p. 75), and that "every alleged1 essence, every distinct
thought, carries with it, in virtue of its special nature, a
certain claim1 to find itself in reality" (p. 98). He has,
lastly, to show that it is " possible to make a valid l inference
from essence to existence" (p. 76).

To prove these points, he undertakes a very thorough and
instructive examination of Spinoza's embarrassments (not to
say, contradictions) on this subject. He argues further
that " essence involves existence where affirmation is free
from confusion " (p. 82),2 and that "you cannot be in error
about a reality which leaves no opening for misapprehension ;
and you must always be thinking about some reality " (p. 84).
He retracts indeed the confident assertion of his Logic that
"it is obvious that in every concept the intension dictates
the extension " (p. 88), but still maintains that " when we
know what a thing is, we know in principle whether and
where it exists, and how many of it there are. If we say we
know what a sovereign is, and not how many there are in
the world, then we do not really know what a sovereign is "
(p. 89). And so he concludes that " even in finite things the

1 Italics mine.

2 Is this a resuscitation of the Cartesian ' clearness and distinctness ' as
the criterion of truth ?

AN IDEALIST IN EXTREMIS. 147

thought demands or guarantees l the fact," and that " an idea
or nature or essence is in principle self-contradictory until it
has given rise to appropriate existence" (p. 98).

Now what is to be said about all this ? In the first place
one is led to wonder why an idealist philosopher who has
discovered what a sovereign (or a Rembrandt) is, and is
thereby enabled to deduce infallibly "how many of it there
are," does not at once become the greatest authority in
finance (or art). But perhaps he has discovered also that he
cannot know all about a sovereign (or a Rembrandt), e.g. its
value, without previously ascertaining its 'extension,' and so
its rarity. However, it is pretty clear that Dr. Bosanquet is
right in recognising the wide application of the mode of reason-
ing used in the ' ontological proof '. It is not merely in prov-
ing the existence of God that we endeavour to pass from the
presence of an idea in our mind to the reality of a correspond-
ing object. We proceed thus whenever we try to apply our
ideas to reality, and to verify them in experience. In other
words we do so most of the time, nay all the time, except when
we are merely tracing the interrelations of entia rationis, as
in pure mathematics. But we do not ordinarily accept this
claim of our ideas at face-value, without discount or further
examination. The fact that our ideas claim to apply to reality
is not a sufficient proof that they do so. We do not ignore the
possibility of error. We admit that we are fallible. So we
distinguish between a ' demand ' and a ' guarantee '. We
look to experience for our guarantee, for a confirmation
of their claim. We realise also that their confirmation may
be partial, and will almost certainly be gradual. And even
though our ideas may be wrong, more or less completely, it
is consoling to think they are capable of correction and im-
provement.

Now it is precisely this whole process of testing the claim
of an idea to reality that the ' ontological ' argument — and
Dr. Bosanquet — appear to rule out or overlook. The whole
paradox, the crux, and, I venture to think, the fallacy, lie here.
The tendency to pass from existence in idea to existence in
reality remains a mere presumption, instinct, or craving, un-
less, and until, the claim is verified. And unless it can be
verified, it cannot be called a ' valid inference,' or a * proof '.
Prima facie therefore the ' ontological ' claim that a ' God '
exists or a ' universe ' exists, because we have somehow be-
come possessed of these ideas, needs verification and con-
firmation by experience, just as much as any other claim to

1 Italics mine.

148 F. c. s. SCHILLER:

reality. If any philosopher wishes to dispute this, he should
transfer the discussion to the question whether some (or all ?)
claims to reality are self -proving , and should be prepared to
meet the retort that they are only impudent.

This is the real question about the ' ontological ' argument,
and to it the truism that wherever the conditions of going
wrong are absent, we cannot go wrong, is merely irrelevant.
To render this truism significant and applicable to human
knowledge, it would have to be shown that the conditions are
ever such that error is, in point of fact, excluded. And Dr.
Bosanquet, at any rate, could never do this, so long as he
holds that human thought, being finite, must necessarily be
in error.

(2) In chapter v. (p. 103) Dr. Bosanquet tells us that '" the
whole decision upon the ultimate reality of time and progress,
and the just criticism of moral perfectibility as a world-prin-
ciple in opposition to religious self- transcendence " rests " in
principle " upon the simple addition sum 7 + 5 = 12. " We
start in elementary logic. If 12 were not the same as 7 + 5,
the judgment l would not be true. If it were not different,
the judgment would not be a judgment. There is no province
of knowledge over which the law of identity, construed as the
principle of tautology, bears sway. There is no region of
reality which can be interpreted by its aid." Hence, so far
from being the simple sum it seems, it is a stupendous
example of an " eternal novelty," "the expression of some-
thing which, parting from itself, remains within itself, and
which, being always old, is yet perennially new. To consider
the expression impartially is to recognise in the simplest
thought this inherent connexion. Here we have the open
secret, from which a hasty and one-sided philosophy runs
away. ... So when we find a doctrine which judges of ulti-
mate reality on the basis that if novelty, progress, difference
are to be achieved, the identity of the whole as a whole and in
its ultimate character must be abandoned, we know where we
are. We are simply in the presence of a blunder in elementary
logic '' (p. 104). All the progressists commit it, and it leads
them erroneously to suppose that where you have novelty you
cannot have sameness, and that as the real brings novelties,
it must change. Whereas " when once for all the principle
of the judgment 7 + 5 = 12 is mastered, we grasp the paradox
at once of reality and of inference " (p. 112).

A pretty paradox this of the ' eternal novelty ' of 7 + 5
- 12, and fit pour dpater les bourgeois ! Nevertheless the

1 Italics mine.

AN IDEALIST IN EXTREMIS. 149

' progressists ' would be ill-advised, nay ' hasty and one-sided,'
if they were routed by it. They should tarry to examine it,
and a little judicious questioning would soon deprive the sum
of 7 + 5 of all its terrors.

To begin with, they should, respectfully, point out to Dr.
Bosanquet that 7 + 5 = 12 was hardly a good example of an
' eternal truth,' because it is not properly a truth at all. It is
not properly a judgment, but only a proposition (which indeed
is what Dr. Bosanquet himself calls it on p. 112). And even
' elementary logic ' may be entitled to insist on observance of
this distinction. For a proposition (or in Mr. Kussell's par-
lance a ' prepositional function'), like the whole tribe of
mathematical 'truths,' is properly a form of words, with
blanks for inserting ' variables ' according to requirements.
It is not properly either true or false. These are qualities
reserved for judgment. 'Truth' is its glory, 'falsity' its be-
setting sin. But a proposition is merely a product of past
judgments, and a form for judging future ones withal. Nor
has it, strictly, any (actual) meaning. No one can say, merely
from contemplating 7 + 5, what they will amount to in a
concrete application of the formula. It is necessary to know
what are the 7 and the 5 concerned. Experiments with drops
of water and with fishes will give widely discrepant results.
And even with fishes the results will differ according to the
species. If, e.g., the scene of the operation is a pond inhabited
by 7 carp, and the 5 added are hungry pike, it is probable
that the sum ' 12 ' will be a very temporary truth.

Clearly then, for ' 7 + 5 = 12 ' to acquire actual meaning,
and to become (possibly) true, the proposition has to be used,
i.e., to be converted into a judgment and applied to some ap-
propriate reality that admits of arithmetical treatment. It
may then become true, for the time being. It often does,
because many things will stand arithmetical treatment. And
every successful application of arithmetic to reality will have
a certain novelty of its own. But it is plain that in this
sense arithmetical truth cannot have eternity. It is strictly
pro hac vice.

It can, of course, be taken differently ; for mathematical
' truth ' is not as ' simple ' as Dr. Bosanquet supposes and
is really very complex. 7 + 5 = 12 may be meant as a sum
in simple addition, in pure mathematics. In that case, it
will be a deduction from the conventions of common arith-
metic about the conception of number and the operation of
adding. So long as these conventions are retained, it will be
'true,' i.e., deducible from the system. But the truth of the
system will depend, ultimately, on the continuance of its

150 F. c. s. SCHILLER:

applicability to reality, and if this should fail, its ' truths '
will be affected. Euclidean geometry has recently undergone
such a deminutio capitis. Hence, even in this sense, mathe-
matical truth is not strictly ' eternal '.

To the 'law of identity' the same remarks apply in
principle. In the abstract it too is just a verbal form, devoid
of meaning. Which is why logicians have found it so hard
to say what its meaning is. But when an identity, say S is
P, is actually asserted, what we mean is that though per se S
and P are different, yet for our purpose, and for the nonce, we
claim that they may advantageously be identified.

A completer analysis of arithmetical truth therefore hardly
seems to bear out the claim that 7 + 5 = 12 reveals the in-
most Secret of the Universe, and confutes the belief in the
importance and reality of time.

(3) Dr. Bosanquet's objection to progress may be dealt
with briefly. While admitting that " the place of time, pro-
gress and change in the universe " is "the ultimate crux of
speculation" (p. 125), he censures its "narrow humanism"
(p. 124) ; but his weightiest objection is that an infinite pro-
gress " must necessarily be a failure ad infinitum " (p. 206),
and involve both man and the universe in the fate of Tantalus
(p. 57). But this overlooks two alternatives, (a) that progress
may be real without being infinite, and that (as I have
endeavoured to show) becoming may attain to being and time
to eternity, (b) that an infinite progress is not necessarily
bad. It may be worth while, if the quality of the process is
good enough. And whether it is or not may be a matter of
an immediate apprehension of value.

(4) The existence of the all-inclusive system or whole, of
which Dr. Bosanquet is such an ardent advocate, rests, of
course, on the validity of the ontological argument. And if
further it were frankly admitted to be the expression of a
craving or instinct, nothing more would need to be said about
it. It would rank merely with " the unity which is grasped
by faith " (p. 200), and the other manifestations of the will
to believe. But it is clear that to Dr. Bosanquet it is very
much more than this. It is for him an absolute fact and a
necessity of thought that all systems must be included in one
system, that all wholes are in the Whole, that ' all that is ' is
a * universe ' : nor does he hesitate to speak repeatedly of the
Whole as 'infinite' (pp. 114, 183, 188, 201, 209, etc.). Even
the strictly individual place-time systems, which the new
physics of Eelativity no longer profess to unify, are calmly
assumed to form a ' total ' (p. 155) . But when he sets
himself to reason out these convictions, he is singularly un-

AN IDEALIST IN EXTREMIS. 151

convincing. Thus we read (p. 177) that " the whole cannot
change. The whole I take to mean the universe ; all that in
any sense l is. It cannot change because any change intro-
duces something that is,1 and this, ex hypothesi, falls within
the Whole. The Whole, if it changes, was l not the whole,
but something less. All that is includes all that can be;
there can be nothing more than it."

Here it is clearly assumed that ' what is ' forms an ' all,'
and that any novelty which any change introduces must be
'something that is' (timelessly) , and, therefore, was from
all eternity. But these are the very assumptions that were
questioned, and have to be made good. In arguing in his
system, Dr. Bosanquet is plainly arguing in a circle ; and it
would seem that the only way of avoiding circularity, viz.,
by conceiving the system as ' open/ and so far not absolutely
systematic,2 is not open to Dr. Bosanquet.

If we further take into account the fact that there is no
logical route from the partial systems (sciences) to the all-
inclusive system, because the selective method of the former
is antithetical to the inclusive procedure of the latter,3 the
validity of the notion of ' universe ' ceases to seem self-evi-
dent, and begins to look dubious.

And if, finally, we endeavour, with Dr. Bosanquet, to work
out the meaning of the universe " in the suggestions of life
and experience, and not in the language of abstract specula-
tion " (p. 177), and ask how in the concrete, we can think
" all that in any sense is " as a real unity worthy of the
name, we shall speedily find that it possesses positive features
which insuperably resist its inclusion in a universe. For it
is soon seen that the common world of ordinary life is not a
datum but a (pragmatic) construction, compiled by ignoring
the claim to reality of an infinity of private worlds (of dream,
imagination, fiction, illusion, etc.). Also that, as even this
common world appears to be infinite in space and time,
nothing can be predicated universally of it, i.e., of all of it,
that is not liable to be falsified by its failure to exhibit that
predicate somewhere or at some time. This, of course, was
just the reason why the ancients regarded the infinite as the
frustration of knowledge, and an ' infinite whole ' as a con-
tradiction in terms.

If then there is to be truth about the universe, it cannot
include any truth that is liable to be falsified by the infinity

1 Italics mine.

2 Cf. my study on Arguing in a Circle in the Aristotelian Society's
Proceedings, 1921.

3 Ibid, pp. 223-228.

152 F. c. s. SCHILLER:

of space, time and change. Pretenders to reality infected
with these cannot be truly real. They must be excluded.
So must a great deal more that appears, and claims, often
very insistently, to be. Not merely evil, but all finite being
as such, and every sort and grade of reality, short of ultimate
reality. Only ultimate reality can be real, if the ' universe '
be real, and the truth about it absolute. We are thus con-
fronted with the paradox that the Whole, which was designed
to be all-inclusive, excludes pretty nearly everything. But it
has to, if it is not to become merely a dumping ground and
rubbish heap for fraudulent pretenders to reality to disport
themselves over.

Even this does not exhaust the exclusiveness of the ' all-
inclusive ' whole. In the end it must exclude even its own
votaries. Not merely because they are ' finites ' in a finite
world that cannot be truly real, but, quite definitely, because
they claim to apprehend a reality whose majesty cannot be
apprehended by them. They thus commit Use majeste. For
it is part of the truth about the Whole that only the Whole
can truly know The Truth. Partial truth must be partial
error, and how deep that error goes ' finite ' thought cannot
fathom. It can know only that the Whole can never be
grasped as it is, viz., as a whole. An ungracious and un-
grateful return for such devotion ! one is tempted to exclaim,
until one reflects that ex hyp., the Whole is supra-moral and
1 beyond good and evil '.

Moreover, in virtue of these same difficulties, the finite in-
telligence, when repudiated by the Absolute, is bound to re-
taliate in kind. It is bound to view its relation to the
Absolute also from its own standpoint. And then, instead of
submitting to be extruded from the sphere of absolute reality,
it must refuse to enter it. It has a right to point out that
after all the Absolute is primarily a theory of metaphysics
and that no metaphysical theory can quite shake off its de-
pendence on the mind by which it was excogitated. So the
absolutist is quite as essential to the Absolute as the Absolute
is to him. But neither relation is a mystery. For when a
theory in its conclusion arrives at a truth which negates its
own truth, the simplest explanation is that the whole theory
is mistaken. Hence it is safer to leave the existence of the
Whole a matter of faith than to bolster it up with arguments.

(5) We have seen both that and why Dr. Bosanquet's
* idealism ' must deny the reality of time, change and finite
being. But the expurgation of ' appearances ' thus demanded
js surely sufficiently drastic to explain why, even among
idealists, many have preferred to hold that the universe is

AN IDEALIST IN EXTREMIS. 153

not exclusive of time and change. It is gratuitous therefore
to ascribe their shrinking from Dr. • Bosanquet's system to
"a blunder in elementary logic" (p. 104). And, after all,
the alleged inconceivability of change is merely a prejudice.
If the universe (so far as there is one) appears to change,
why should it not really change ? If ' all that is ' appears to
be in movement, why not take its movement to be real ?
In spite of metaphysics, eppur si muove !

Nothing is gained by insisting that all change must take place
ivithin a rigid frame that changes not. On the contrary, to
postulate such a frame only produces an unintelligible rela-
tion, an intolerable strain, between the universe, as it is in its
' essence,' and its contents, as they appear. The latter are
in continual flux, while the former is immutable. What have
they then in common ? How can the universe support the
flux ? Why are not stability and flux intolerably alien to each
other ? No visible or conceivable kinship can be traced be-
tween them. That they belong together is a mere allegation.
In short Dr. Bosanquet seems wantonly to have involved
himself in the old crux of how an immutable * substance ' is
related to its changing ' accidents ' ; to which the answer is
that the accidents need no support, and the substance is in-
supportable.

Nor, on the other hand, does Dr. Bosanquet seem to see
how paradoxical and incredible his doctrine is. Bit by bit it
dissolves away all that is deemed real in the ordinary senses of
the word, and leaves the philosopher alone with the All-One.
And then it dissolves away the philosopher as well, and leaves
the One devoid of content. Instead of showing reality as aris-
ing out of nothing and consolidating into being out of becoming,
it passes from being into becoming and out of it into nothing-
ness. It is mere Eleaticism, or worse. If a human touch is
admitted into this grandiose Creed of Disillusionment, it be-
comes the old Indian doctrine of Maya, the Veil of Illusion
which nothing mortal, nothing finite, may pierce. Behind
this veil, we are told (on the authority of an eminent finite
thinker) dwells an eternal Absolute. ' Of Being,' we ask ' or
Nothingness ' ? In either case, credat Judceus ! And we
have at least the consolation that the Veil of Maya enfolds
us all, clings closely, and is not easily rent : indeed Dr. Bosan-
quet is likely to find that he has not enough of the illusion
called ' time ' wholly to dissipate the illusions called ' morality '
and ' progress '.

III.— IMAGINISM AND THE WORLD-PROCESS.

(With special reference fco Prof. Mackenzie's remarks in MIND, Oct.,

1921.)

By DOUGLAS FAWCETT.

" WE have to inquire whether imagination combined with
consciousness may not be the same thing as memory, wit,
power of discrimination, and perhaps even identical with
understanding and Keason. Though logic is not capable of
deciding whether a fundamental power actually exists, the
idea of such a power is the problem involved in a systematic
representation of such a multiplicity of powers." — Kant,
cited by Prof. Norman Kemp Smith in his Commentary to
Kant's Critique of Pure Eeason, page 474.

" Underneath all the reasoning, inductions, deductions,
calculations, demonstrations, methods and logical apparatus
of every sort, there is something animating them that is not
understood, that is the work of that complex operation — the
constructive imagination." — Ribot, Essay on the Creative
Imagination (Open Court Cpy.), page 247.

" It is knowledge of structural form, and not knowledge of
content. All through the physical world runs that unknown
content, which must surely be of the stuff of our conscious-
ness. Here is a hint of aspects deep within the world of
physics, and yet unattainable by the methods of physics. "-
Prof. Eddington on the " empty shell " of physics. Space,
Time, and Gravitation, page 200.

The limits of hypotheses, let us say with Mill,1 are the
limits of imagining : of that private imagining which takes
shape in abstract concept and pictorial "image" alike. And
metaphysics is therefore to this extent, what Ribot calls it,
a " work of imagination, superimposed on works of imagina-
tion". Further underneath all the closely-knit deductions
and logical procedure, whereby hypotheses are applied and
tested, lies this same creative imagining. Nay, all reasoning,

1 Logic, Book III., ch. xiv., § 4. Cf. also Mach, Popular Scientific
Lectures (Open Court Cpy.) 3rd ed., pp. 228-229.

DOUGLAS FAWCETT : IMAGINISM AND THE WORLD-PROCESS. 155

whether abstract or comparatively concrete, which is not
verbal or merely simulated in symbol, implies imagining ; its
distinctive service lies in its value as a " means of control and
proof" (Eibot) ; as the "harmonising controlling force'*
which Bertrand Russell, perhaps hardly aware of the vast
significance of the step, subordinates to " vision ". Reason,
with its guiding logic, seems a secondary creation advantag-
ing only finite sentients, miserably supplied with direct or
immediate knowledge, who have to infer. We find again,
thinks Ribot, that imagining " penetrates every part of our
life, whether individual or collective, speculative or practical,
in all its forms — it is everywhere ".l We can follow it from
the realm of the "logical" or "abstract" imagination, on
which Russell rests pure mathematics,2 to that of the work-
aday sense-world3 or even to this and that sense-datum as
" constructively " perceived. Thus far preludial empirical
research. This strange pervasiveness must needs prompt
inquiry. And, noting the neglect of imagination by most
students, we are not to be surprised if, as we fare forward, a
new, and perhaps to some unwelcome, horizon shall rise
slowly into view.

Creative (as well as conservative or reproductive) imagining
has been dismissed airily, e.g., by Nordau, as " a special case
of the general psychological law of association". Thirty
years ago, fresh from the glamour of Mill, Bain, and their kin,
I could have said the same. But the difficulties raised by
* law,' ' association,' ' associable units,' ' retentiveness,' ' trans-
formability of unit ' and so forth are too formidable ; and as-
sociationism in its popular forms cannot stand. In this case,
as in that of the truth-problem, there is no getting very far
towards a solution without metaphysics. The riddle of
cosmic creation and conservation must be read ; failing which
psychology, ' physiological ' and other, will yield only a pro-
visional solution, a naive economy of thinking rather than
truth. Creation and conservation within mere human ex-
perience cannot be understood, unless we have first grasped
their character as they obtain on the great scale. The very
"sensations" and "images," on which so much stress has

1 Essay on the Creative Imagination (Open Court Cpy.), p. 332.

2 Cf. Our Knowledge of the External World, p. 241. It is imagination
which frees him from the tyranny of phenomena.

:J Cf. Whitehead. " What are the crude deliverances of sensible experi-
ence, apart from that world of imaginative reconstruction which for each
of us has the best claim to be called the real world ? " Organisation of
Thought, p. 212. The "crude deliverances" are gifts of the world-
imagining.

156 DOUGLAS FAWCETT:

been laid, are, to rny thinking, just mythological. I cannot
develop this statement farther at the moment, and to oppose
it to mere popular thinking in passing must suffice.1

Such explanation, as Nordau and others favour, per
ignotius need not delay us. It did not satisfy even the
master associationist Hume, for whom imagination was " a
kind of magical faculty in the soul " (Treatise, i., § 7), inexpli-
cable " by the greatest efforts of human understanding " ;
and it will be recalled that for Hume this magical power
"holds the field even when the ego and the notion of cause
are under fire! However even for Hume imagination re-
mains in the main a faculty ; is the imagination, ordinarily
so-called, of the psychologist which, however pervasive, is
still only a phase of our being. Hume too had probably
only creative imagining in view, being impressed by the
seemingly spontaneous generation of novelty in this domain.
Nevertheless he prepares us to consider a further issue.
There is surely a well-spring of creation, of originative
power, a source of new beginnings, rising in this so-called
1 faculty '. This at least we are intimately aware of when
we invent aeroplanes, pen poems, or summon an infinite
number of infinite numbers from the vasty deep ; salient
examples these, it may be, of a creativity that invades us in
myriads of forms. What now if imagination, ordinarily
so-called, the phase merely of our being to which the psy-
chologist, poet and plain man ascribe that name, continues,
comparatively untransformed, an activity that underlies the
entire psychological individual ; what if it is the witness of a
wider imagining, of Kant's suggested " fundamental power," 2
at the base of my sentient life ; of the stern on which all the
phases of my psychical being alike have flowered? This
residual tract of the " fundamental power " (elsewhere all but
lost to sight in its creations), refuses, shall we say, to camou-
flage itself. It resembles — the analogy is a remote one — the
germ-plasm which gives rise to all the body-tissues and yet
in one quarter of these differentiated tissues maintains itself
more or less unaltered. Are we looking at a waterhole in a
hummocky floe of set, conservative forms ? The suggestion
surely is an attractive one, so why not exploit it ? We have
reached the peak in Darien whence Imaginism, that ocean
of grandiose interests, can be glimpsed.

For we need not stop here. The hypothesis widens.

1 The processes, discussed conveniently as " association," will concern
a part of my work on the Individual.

2 See citation heading this paper.

IMAGINISM AND THE WORLD-PROCESS. 157

Perhaps this "fundamental power" at the roots of finite
sentients is of basic importance, or even fundamental, in the
universe. Those who regard intellect and its logic as evolved
in the time-process, but desire, withal, to believe in a spiritual
universe, are to be heartened. Averse, perhaps, from
Schopenhauer's Will and Bergson's filan Vital (a formal
concept which recognises indeed creative evolution, but leaves
its character unread) 1 disillusioned metaphysicians can pre-
pare for an adventure. Not in a blind Will nor a vague
" life " impulse, but perhaps in Divine Imagining lies the
clue. And, with this clue in hand, we may decide further
that philosophies of the Unconscious are without sting.
Divine Imagining at any rate is not a dark Schellingian
" Immemorial Being" ; It conscires. The verj' ' activity ' or
' energy ' of the universe, of which we read in the pages of
Fichte and Hegel, is, perhaps — just consciring. Eussell
tells us that the thinker's business is not so much to argue as
to get his readers to " see " as he sees. Well : " see " what
Divine Imagining stands for, and the world of mathematical
atheism and mere naturalistic realism has vanished for aye.

Kant's system, an awkward monster well worthy of the
bantering of William James, had to die. But, like the Norse
Giant Ymir from whose death and decay sprang the busy
worlds, it broke up into live, but fiercely opposed, intellectual
forces whose clash was to subserve progress. Fichte,
Schopenhauer, Hegel and Herbart are combatants all of
whom, strange to say, find their inspiration in the ' Critiques '.
And we new imaginists, even though we got our inspiration
elsewhere — perhaps as a genial intuition or ' philosophic
vision,' as Bertrand Eussell would put it, after exploiting all
other tolerable rival aper9us in metaphysics — are glad
that Kant's suggestion can be quoted in our support. There
are so many sluggish-minded, conservative folk, professors of
academic routine, who can never appreciate a point of view
for which old-established authority, dogmatic or philosophic,
cannot be cited. Kant, indeed, had, it would seem, only
finite sentients in view, and he left his suggestion only in
part exploited. Still, apart from the concept of the " funda-
mental power," productive (as opposed to empirical) imagin-
ation "buried deep in the soul" figures prominently as a
factor in his account of knowledge. Later again in Fichte's
explanation of natural objects — noumena being now dis-
avowed— this pre-empirical productive imagination acquires

1 An * imperious impulse to create ' is no more instructive than would
be the derivation of change from psychical " force " — a word.

158 DOUGLAS FAWCETT :

a cosmic range. Cosmic in range, too, is the Phantasie
of Frohschammer, but it remains, nevertheless, only a factor.
It is not the sole ground of reality : e.g., it does not include
God and the Ideas, while we are still refused that real novelty
which creative evolution implies. These two defects have
vanished from Imaginism as it is conceived to-day. Thus
(1) Divine Imagining, in its modes and transformations, is
sole ground of reality. It has been called a ' mobile Absolute,'
but ' Absolute/ if we are to respect its established meaning,
is not a suitable label for ultimate reality which allows of
change. (2) Creative evolution with its ever-fresh novelty is
recognised in full. By this hangs an account, in part of
course speculative, of the beginning and goal of our world-
system ; and an attempt to understand the causal dynamic
which this displays. The writer in 1893 hit independently on
the notions of creative evolution and of what is now usually
discussed as Bergson's vraie duree. These notions seemed to
a young, and no doubt " cocksure," panpsychist obvious, not
debatable enough to be argued at length.1 On the other
hand, lacking a suitable metaphysical setting, they proved
sterile. Creative evolution has to be interpreted as an
aspect of Divine Imagining, and no metaphors or symbols
that fall short of this concept will serve our purpose. There
remains the conservative side of imagining — as real in a
cosmic regard as for us — rich with the wealth which
prompted intellectualists to posit a static or immobile
"rational" Absolute, rich also with much else. Such con-
nexions as certain idealists and even new realists have (often
perhaps, too confidently) called " eternal," can be credited to
this conservative side ; there is no need to dub them " forms
of reason " save that, once noticed and generalised as truths,
they serve as premises for human reasoning. Reason and
reasoning are evolved, to all seeming, along with, and in the
interests of, finite sentients. Eeason, so boldly hypostasised
by Hegel, does not, as Lotze would put it, systematise reality,
but rather our ideas about reality. Its defects are such that
the mystic, treating it as a makeshift, invariably seeks to get
beyond it.

1 Cp. Riddle of the Universe, p. 321: "Nature ... is a continuous
creation ; the inarch from firemist to organisms is a revelation with
something wholly new at every stage of the journey," and for the vraie
dur&e, p. 273.

" Really there are no ' states ' at all, but aspects of a mobile whole now
raised into prominence, now relegated to obscurity . . . time (primary) is
merely the streaming of a many-hued whole, aspects of which attention
grasps piece-meal as ' before,' ' after,' ' together,' " and so on.

IMAG1NISM AND THE WOELD-PEOCESS. 159

On the basis then of foregoing remarks the hypothesis of
Imaginism can be stated as follows : '* Ultimate reality is best
viewed as imaginal ; as conscious activity (consciring) which,
as embodied in content, resembles most nearly that human
experience which we call imagining, conservative and creative,
reproductive and productive (or constructive). It is not urged
that the other aspects of experience are " unreal" or
" illusive " ; it is contended that the imaginal aspect suggests
the divine world -principle more directly than do those others ;
shows it to us less transformed by the creations which take
place during the time-process. " Keason," which many have
set up as the Absolute, is an instance of secondary creation
such as subserves the living, and the living well, of finite
sentients, but which has no standing in reality at large such
as could be called cosmic." l There is no obscurantism in
this attitude ; rather a simplicity that goes straight to the
mark. A contrast, withal, may prove timely. The universe,
interpreted according to the analogy of reason, yields the
Hegelian or rational IDEA ; interpreted according to that of
imagining, the imaginal IDEA or Divine Imagining. But,
while the former solution cannot be stretched so as to cover
all the facts of experience, the imaginist embraces them, as a
sequel could show, readily enough.2 It accords also with the
intimations of poets ; serves indeed, when developed, as Prof.
Mackenzie inclines to think, to remove " the last vestiges "
of the old quarrel between poetry, religion and philosophy.
It provides the utmost possible satisfaction for the meliorist
and the embittered critics of our drab terrestrial world. It
is, therefore, at least worth being mooted and may justify
itself fully when the ' tester ' of pragmatist severity has been
allowed to work his will. Hypothesis unapplied to the facts
of nature and sentient life is, of course, idle.

Imagining at the level of the human sentient is as familiar
to us all as redness or cold. Its nature, what it is, alike in
the spheres of conservation and creation, is revealed to our
consciring unmistakably in what it does. But, on the other
hand, we can never be quite clear how it does it. Its
" buried " features are always lost to sight ; even the conscious
creation of a poem is in the twilight. It resembles a spear-
shaft of which the tip only, thrust out of a cave, reflects
the sun.

Imagining in the sense of Kant's "fundamental power " at

1 Divine Imagining, pp. 2-3.

2<7/. ibid., ch. iii., "Positive Vindication," and later illustrative
chapters.

160 DOUGLAS FAWCETT:

the root of the individual is alike too wide and too " buried "
to be dealt with as verbal definitions require.1 It subtends
too much to be limited as this or that. It comes most
nearly to the surface as that phase of my psychical life,
imagination narrowly so-called, which, pervasive phase though
it is, the psychologist contrasts with other phases. In this
quarter we glimpse that ' psychical form of spontaneous
generation/ that becoming ex nihilo, which is the mark of
real novelty and figures so largely in my account of creative
evolution. Something arises out of nothing in all quarters
and times of the evolutionary process 2 — in all cases of
causation. Writers of textbooks, trying to work with scraps
of psychological abstractions and oddments of physiology,
have never done even imagination narrowly so-called full
justice. " I surmise from my reading of the psychologists
who treat of this that they themselves were without this
faculty (imagination) and spoke of it as blind men who would
fain draw although without vision." 3 Yet very familiar events,
the drawing of deductions (all creations),4 the invention of a
carburetter, the making of laws of science,5 the marshalling
of dream-dancers in fancy, or the floating of a self-contra-
dictory concept which the mere logical intellect cannot ac-
cept, show the character of the power at work. Small

1 "Imagination transcends thought in that it makes us aware of the
limitations of thought. And how do we define imagination ? We fail
utterly in attempts at definition. Kant may deduce forms of imagination,
but he leaves imagination itself deep buried in the soul of man." — F. C.
CONSTABLE, M.A., " The Meaning of Consciousness," Quest, January, 1921.

2 Cf. my World as Imagination, pp. 365-366, and p. 380 on chance.
Also F. C. S. Schiller on " Novelty," a paper read before the Aristotelian
Society, October, 1921, p. 19. u Novelty as such means Creation out of
nothing." Hegel also said that the statement "From nothing comes
nothing ; from something something " abolishes becoming.

"A. E.," The Candle of Vision, p. 27.

4 When these creations are not methodically made, you have the so-
called " intuitive " thinking of Faraday and others. 'Cf. Divine Imagining,
Appendix § 1, Logic. And in this, as Silvanus Thompson said, you have
something " more akin to the innate faculty of the great artist than to
the trained powers of the analyst or the logician " (cited by Prof. J. A.
Thomson, Introduction to Science, p. 78). Genius may reck lightly of
method.

5 " The laws of science are . . . products of the creative imagination,"
Prof. Karl Pearson, Grammar of Science, 3rd Ed., pp. 34-35. I should
express the situation thus : The connexions present, independently of
human sentients, in the imaginal structure of Nature are re-imagined by
us in our own ways as practical needs dictate. Hence, among other
things, the invention of the famous Mechanistic World of so many poets
of science. Materialism itself is only a drab kind of poetry. This imagin-
ative construction, of such value for practice, is useless to serious nature-
philosophy.

IMAGINISM AND THE WOELD-PEOCESS. 161

wonder that Hume saw magic in this domain ; and good
cause that we should look deep in a venture, however belated,
towards explaining it. A degraded form of a universal cos-
mic activity is in view; but it has not lost all its " original
brightness," and shows, in Miltonic phrase, only with " the
excess of glory obscured ".

This is no place to repeat the vindication of Imaginism
which has been undertaken elsewhere. The hypothesis, just
indicated, has to be amplified and then tested by application to
the domains of nature and finite sentient life. There is no
trifling with philosophies of the Unconscious. Divine Imagin-
ing, while superpersonal, conscires ; and this consciring is at
once the awareness, the ' energy ' and the ultimate continuity
of the universe.1 This ground as sustaining (conserving) and
creating imaginal fields, is the cosmic will of some writers,
though assuredly not Schopenhauer's or the "unweeting
will " of Hardy's Dynasts. " Will," however, is too sug-
gestive of a surd. Further Divine Imagining enjoys, it
would seem, not that stinted balance of happiness allotted to
Bradley's Absolute, but bliss as " ineffable," i.e., as beyond
available human comparisons, as the veriest mystic holds it
to be. It comprises, too, — the variety native to imagining
prompts the suggestion — innumerable world-systems besides
that one in which we live and move. In all these alike the
only units, properly so-called, are centres of conscious life.

Divine Imagining cannot be equated (as was the Hegelian
rational IDEA) with Truth. Truth, if representational prag-
matism is right, is never, " self- verifying ". It is a name for
a collection or collections, usually most fragmentary, of true
statements arranged according to a plan. Such collections
arise piecemeal in the history of finite sentients, and are
mostly very poor makeshifts beside the realities of primary
interest to which they refer. Geology, for instance, is a
triviality, a distorting device or instrument of us earthlice,
beside the rock-aspects of the planetary complex present to
Divine Imagining. Our Universal History is a dance of
shadows in a hall of words.

Still true statement cannot be merely useful. We are able,
however, to blend pragmatism with the correspondence
theory : correspondence being treated, as by Prof. A. K.

la Divine consciring is Fichte's 'infinite activity' regarded as also
aware of its contents ; the conscious energy of the universe, that which
at once conserves, creates and grasps together all contents," Divine
Imagining, xxvii. On the meaning of continuity, assuredly a much more
thorny question than some of our mathematicians believe it to be, cf.
Appendix § 2, on that topic.

11

162 DOUGLAS FAWCETT:

Eogers (MiND, Jan., 1919), as likeness. There is corre-
spondence between truth-ideation and reality ; and should
reality prove to contain, as the phrase goes, " contradictions/'
the ordered statements about it will have to comprise them
as well ; coherence among truths is thus subordinate and
might, arguably at any rate, be misleading. In theoretic
science we experiment with ideation : we imagine and hy-
potheses are born : each of these displaying for apperceptive
needs conservative and creative factors. Discussing the most
primitive organisms with Minchin we can imagine chro-
matinic corpuscles, from which evolution moves to the
bacteria and the earlier forms of the protozoan cell. These
corpuscles or biococci and their doings are creations of fancy.
But if, on search for them, like natural objects are found to
penetrate our spheres of consciring, behaving as anticipatory
fancy made them behave, we shall say that the hypothesis
has been verified. OUT private imagining has simulated suc-
cessfully events in a wider nature-imagining in the respects
that are relevant to our purposes.

Divine Imagining cannot stand to Itself in a relation of
correspondence nor, shining in Its own light, does It require
truth-shadows. All relations, even those of the most isolated
evolving world-systems, presuppose this ground. It is im-
mediacy which conscires itself ; is not the truth " about " the
universe, but the very reality so called. In this reality are
established all things and all sentients ; and we may say
that the vision of Prospero, as welcomed by Imaginism, has
become good philosophy.

Realism is sound thinking, but it is an idealistic realism
after all ! A " naturalistic realism " is simply lyrical but dull
poetry.

" True " ideation then is a phenomenon of relation within
the superrational reality which is Divine Imagining. And
human imagining, not verifiable by reference to a sphere be-
yond itself, is accordingly neither true nor false. This has a
bearing on the position of pure mathematics. " In a conversa-
tion concerning the place of imagination in scientific work,"
says Liebig, " a great French mathematician expressed the
opinion to me that the greater part of mathematical truth is
acquired not through deduction, but through the imagination.
He might have said ' all the mathematical truths ' without
being wrong." 1 In the case of pure mathematics, wherein,
as Russell declares, " we never know what we are talking
about, nor whether what we are saying is true," we have

1 Cited by Bibot, op. cit., p. 244.

IMAGINISM AND THE WOBLD-PROCESS. 163

creations of the fancy, wherein there is a conservative side
implied.1 The deductions, whether methodically drawn
or such as show in the "intuitive" thinking of Silvanus
Thompson's " great artist " of science, alike illustrate creative
imagining. And the resulting imaginal fields, while repelling
by rule internal contradiction, are not, merely by fulfilling
that condition, guaranteed to be true. Eeality is wider than
truth. They are primarily an extension of reality in the
same way as are new suns and nebulae. Their creation in
our imagining adds to the wealth of the universe. I am not
concerned with what we discover rather than create ; discovery
taps, of course, the conservative side of the universe, i.e., of
Divine Imagining, already noticed. But sentients, even when
discoverers, appropriate what they find creatively ; are not
inert funnels through which the waters of insight are poured.

Prof. Mackenzie has extended to Imaginism a generous
welcome of which I am deeply sensible. The rest of this
paper will be a reply to his main criticisms, all or most of
which (as indeed he himself suspects) rest on interpretations
that have missed my meaning. His verdict is distinctly
favourable. Were the difficulties connected with the time-
process, evil and contingency removed, "the principle of
creative imagination," he says, "would not have much to
fear." 2 The principle, as we have seen, is also conservative ;
thereby place is found for those so-called logical or stable
connexions which so many hold immune from change ; nay,
despite their enduring, as quite unsubjected to time ! 3 It
remains to suggest how the difficulties can be surmounted.

But first I will note a minor consideration in the regard of
Hegel. My critic suggests (p. 456) that a " spiritual," not a
rational, Absolute is Hegel's last word. Hegel, however, in
the Philosophy of History, in which his thought is more con-
crete than usual, reaffirms that Reason is " exclusively its own
basis of existence," the " energy " and " sovereign " of the
world. And surely it is precisely this Reason, which passing
into its self-externality as Nature, closes again with itself as
the Absolute Idea, as Spirit Dialectic, again (I am referring
to the text of the review) is not merely our way of discover-
ing the abstractness of philosophical notions. It is Hegel's
" universal and irresistible power" which animates Reason in

1 Gf. Divine Imagining, p. 39.

2 Prof. Mackenzie has recently modified his views as to time and allied
problems in ways that, he believes, greatly lessen these difficulties.

3 Cf. Divine Imagining, pp. 114-121. ' Timelessness ' for many vague
writers seems to mean no more th in freedom from any possible change.
But even the changeless has to endure, or, shall we say, to be sustained
stably. Conservation (c/. Postscript) implies a yet deeper Creation.

164 DOUGLAS FAWCETT:

all of its manifestations : the self -movement of the notion
which (since Nature and the sphere of Mind = " applied
logic") shows even in physical things, e.g., in meteoro-
logical action. "... We must not suppose that the recogni-
tion of its existence is peculiarly confined to the philosophic
intellect. It would be truer to say that Dialectic gives ex-
pression to a law which is felt in all other grades of conscious-
ness, and in general experience. Everything around us may
be viewed as an instance of Dialectic." 1- There is really no
other principle of movement with which a rational IDEA can
be ensouled. Are we aware of a broken vase or a shower
of rain? "dialectic" has to be the blessed word invoked.
Reason has become veritably nominis umbra.

I suggest that the real " secret of Hegel," overlooked even
by Dr. Hutchison Stirling, lies in this. Hegel started, on
the basis of the Categories, with the hope of showing that
Reason is sole ground of appearances. In doing so, he was
forced — such was the pressure of the reality to be interpreted
— to exploit Reason as if it were imagination. It was im-
possible to get forward otherwise in such quarters as Nature-
philosophy, Aesthetic, and the Philosophy of History. And
the " faculties " of the finite sentient cannot be treated as
"additional specifications" of Reason.2 Strictly speaking,
too, even in the Logic the semblance of the " self-movement
of the notion" is achieved by what really is a feat of the
logical or "abstract" imagination, as Russell calls it. The
initial notion, Being or " underived indeterminateness," does
not come to anyone straight through his primary experience,
but is a command -concept of his imagining, a novelty which
is created for an end. And the successive solutions of the
" contradictions " of the logical series flow not from this self-
propelled notion, but are imported into it by an inventive
philosopher who is reimagining empirical reality as the
famous " realm of shades " which we find in the Logic.

And now as to the question of time-process.

We are not considering conceptual or homogeneous time.
Primary time means certain manners in which contents are
present to Divine Imagining.3 Hence the Kantian time-sub-
jectivism is false. These manners of presence, to wit dura-
tion, simultaneity and succession, exist not only for us but in
the wider real. I have suggested how they are interrelated
in the case of a world-system both as it pre-exists to, and as

1 The Logic of Hegel, Wallace, pp. 127-128.

2 This phrase of Hegel's is illuminative. Verbally he seems consistent,
but he is capitulating in fact to a plastic " fundamental power " and a real
time process. 3 Divine Imagining, p. 106.

IMAGINISM AND THE WOELD-PBOCESS. 165

it falls into, creative evolution.1 Prof. Mackenzie, by the
way, questions the suitability of the term "falls". This
passage into creative evolution may be regarded as a " fall "
or a "rise" according as you regard it as a lapse of the
system into conflict, division, and evil or as giving birth to
innumerable new finite sentients and mediating, to their final
satisfaction, a ' divine event ' : —

Nay, nay, nay ;

Your hasty judgments stay,

Until the topmost cyme

Have crowned the last entablature of Time.

O heap not blame on that in-brooding Will ;

O pause, till all things in their day fulfil ! 2

The cross-section of a minor part of the creative phase,
such as that of our planetary sub- world to-day, inspires
pessimism ; the entire process can be vindicated only in the
result which resumes and exalts it.

The time-relations are complicated with those of space.
It may be that, in the case of an evolving world-system,
space or coexistence arises within the time-process as one of
the early triumphs of the imaginal dynamic, of course ante-
dating by aeons the appearing of finite sentients of the human
sort.1 On the other hand, it may be that time-space pre-
existed to the creative process or metaphysical fall. Who
can say ? But, if the second alternative holds, we still con-
front features of content in Divine Imagining : we are far
from that topsyturvydom in which an empty abstraction
called time-space exists substantially in its own right. Not
only is the initial state of a world-system conscired : it is also
vastly richer than any discussion of time-space could suggest.
It is an inchoate romance, a poem of that golden age before
the clash of sentients :—

Corcordes animae nunc et dum nocte premuntur
Heu quantum inter se bellum si lumina vitae
Attigerint, quantas acies stragemque ciebunt !

Of course, what Prof. Eddington calls, the " empty shell "
of modern speculative physics can help us little towards an
understanding of the real psychical continuum of Nature.3

1 Divine Imagining, ch. ix., " The evolution of Nature ".

2 Chorus of the Years in the Dynasts.

3 We are considering primeval cosmic time and space. The indefinitely
many discordant time-series and distinct spaces of modern relativist dis-
cussions belong to the realm of division and conflict in which finite per-
cipients have to measure. "... What philosophy has to recognise in
scientific relativity is simply an increased degree of accuracy due to the
greater exactitude of physical concepts, which means, again, that little, if
indeed anything, truly metaphysical is in question at all." — J. E. Turner,
MIND, Jan., p. 52.

166 DOUGLAS FAWCETT :

Here as elsewhere Prof. Pringle Pattison's remark holds good
that " the truth of the poetic imagination is perhaps the pro-
foundest doctrine of a true philosophy ". Let us make use
of this imagination accordingly.

The metaphysical fall into change is not difficult to conceive.
" A truer image of the world, I think, is obtained by picturing
things as entering into the stream of time from an eternal
world outside than from a view which regards time as the
devouring tyrant of all that is."1 For "eternal" here we
may read "conservative" world, while we must be careful
not to whittle down time to succession alone. What, how-
ever, is this succession in our imaginist scheme ? It is not
unreal, a show merely for finite sentients, as so many ab-
solutists declare. It is just the Form of Creation : an aspect
of Divine Imagining and consequently as ultimately real as this
fundamental power itself. A fixed Imagining, without powTer
to initiate change, were surely an absurd principle. To be is
to be active and, as active, Imagining sustains and creates.
The changing of creation is the' very time-succession of our
quest. And with the arising of finite sentients in this chang-
ing comes the creation of creators. Observe that not only
creation but destruction must be recognised. A static
Absolute cannot scavenge its kingdom. Not so this protean
power. During the lapse from, and return to, the harmony
which is beauty, delight and love there arise innumerable
abominations from which reality has to be freed. Something,
qua novel, becomes from nothing ; it can disappear also into
nothing. Superior levels of consciring may cease to conscire
it. Its support fails. It vanishes and leaves not a rack
behind.

Evil, which implies conflict, colours the realm of division
— of creative evolution ; in part it is overruled and trans-
formed in the real time-process, in part, however, it may
perish utterly even from that " past " which conservative
Divine Imagining sustains.2 "When an " Eternal Spirit," as
Prof. Mackenzie calls the Finite God of a world-system,
decrees the metaphysical fall, his self-diremption is decreed
therewith.3 He remains, " with excess of glory obscured,"
a Finite God, but he is now to be continued also in the minor
gods and humbler fragmentary sentients of all grades, from
psychoid or mentoid upward, which the new evolving world-
system, objectively his body, includes. Thus the very

1 Russell, Our Knowledge of the External World, p. 167.

2 Divine Imagining, pp. 149-153. On Evil, cf. World as Imagination,
pp. 566-604. 3 Cf. £>ivine Imagining, pp. 225-227.

IMAGINISM AND THE WORLD-PROCESS. 167

"creation of creators," which Prof. Mackenzie desires to
accent, arises in this way. Since each sentient is now " lui-
meme " (c/., MIND, July, p. 461), a centre in which novelty
is born out of nothing,1 variations of all sorts will arise. The
partial dissociation of God into the sentients is the condition
of their appearing at all. You may call this appearance, in
Schopenhauer's vein, the "fundamental evil " or, as a melior-
ist, you may be hopeful and wait patiently, like Hardy's
Chorus of the Years "till all things in their day fulfil".
But at any rate you will have to allow to the sentients
something of the spontaneity and magic that belong to their
source. Hence miscreations, born out of nothing in a loose
system, account for much ; for the merely abominable that
subserves no wide purpose. The many useful evils, i.e., evils
which, for a long view, are found to subserve sentient life,
need not occupy us. They justify themselves.

The misunderstanding as to ' chance ' is rectified easily.
' Absolute chance ' is not being argued for. I am noting that
to a basis of given conservative factors there can be added
creations, novelties at once (1) unpredictable and (2) born out
of nothing. And when these abrupt beginnings occur on the
lower levels of sentient life, we have to reckon with an " un-
determined " element which may work anon for weal or woe.
It is not a question of supposing conditions " outside Divine
Imagining " : it is a question of creations, of which innumer-
able centres, even within some subordinate demiurge, may be
the seats. For which reason I described this ' chance ' as a
" feature of imagining as it works on low levels of evolution," 2
not differing therefore in kind from that spontaneity which
shows in what we call freedom in its various higher modes.

There is no danger, as Prof. Mackenzie fears, that the
creative variations will ever escape control. At long last
one aspect of the cosmos serves to balance another. And
creation is limited by the circumstances on which the novelty
has to be superinduced. Imagining " improvises, like a
Shakespeare among ourselves, on a basis of given conditions
which impose genuine, though elastic, restrictions on creative
power ",3 Consider the invention of the game of chess. The
indefinitely many possible variations presuppose, of course,
the creative ingenuity of players who are realising purposes.
But, however brilliant may be the players, their creations are
limited by the conditions laid down in the rules of play.

1 Vide supra.

2 Divine Imagining, p. 144. See also World as Imagination, pp. 377-385
on " chance ".

2tfnd,, p. 446.

168 DOUGLAS FAWCETT : IMAGINISM AND THE WORLD-PROCESS.

This unpredictable becoming ex nihilo may involve grave
disturbances over large regions, and corresponding difficulties
for the finite sentients which have to deal with them. Hence
' trial and error ' play so important a part in the time-process.
And I must suggest that even Prof. Mackenzie's " Eternal
Spirit " — the finite God of a world-system — may have to ex-
periment if, relatively even to his own system, he is limited
in power or wisdom or both. A world-system is a big area.
Nevertheless its God must not, for that, be equated with the
Divine Imagining which shows alike in him, in the opposi-
tions with which he contends and in, perhaps, indefinitely
many other Gods, and systems beyond our ken. ' Trial and
error ' obtain wherever finite sentients have to adjust them-
selves to their surround, even if some of these sentients, in
virtue of their power, benevolence and wisdom, are entitled
to be called divine.

POSTSCRIPT. — The Ground of appearances has been dis-
cussed in this paper as alike conservative and creative. But
conservation (as students of Descartes might urge very pro-
perly) implies sustaining creation, failing which the stably
sustained would vanish and leave not a rack behind. Thus
Creative activity dwells in the deepest depths : a considera-
tion quite welcome to those who find in Divine Imagining
the /cms et origo of appearances. To be is to be created or
create, or both. It becomes sunclear why Imagining is to
be substituted for the immobile, the frozen, spiritual Absolutes
of the past.

IV.— EINSTEIN'S THEORY AND PHILOSOPHY.

BY H. WILDON CAEE.

ME. J. E. TUENEE in an interesting and incisive article in
the January number of this Journal (p. 40) has submitted to
detailed criticism the argument, advanced by Lord Haldane
in his Reign of Relativity and by myself in my General
Principle of Relativity and articles in Nature, that Einstein's
scientific theory is based upon a distinctively philosophic
principle. In common with many, probably with the
majority of, leading philosophers, and with a few, though
probably a minority of, mathematicians and physicists, Mr.
Turner holds that there is no real identity between the
scientific and the philosophical principles of relativity. I do
not propose to examine his objections in detail but to restate
the position with particular reference to the Gallic attitude
towards the mathematical principle which he and so many
of my colleagues profess to maintain.

A typical instance of this caring-for-none-of-these-things
attitude is afforded me in an article, entitled " On my friendly
Critics " by Mr. Santayana in the Journal of Philosophy,
22nd December, 1921. It is the apologia of one who prides
himself on a certain philosophical detachment. I will
quote the whole passage. " I have no metaphysics, and in
that sense I am no philosopher, but a poor ignoramus trust-
ing what he hears from the men of science. I rely on them
to discover gradually exactly which elements in their descrip-
tion of nature may be literally true, and which merely sym-
bolical : even if they were all symbolical, they would be true
enough for me. My naturalism is not at all afraid of the
latest theories of space, time, or matter : what I understand
of them, I like, and am ready to believe : for I am a follower
of Plato in his doctrine that only knowledge of ideas (if we
call it knowledge) can be literal and exact, whilst practical
knowledge is necessarily mythical in form, precisely because
its object exists and is external to us." The natural world
which he distinguishes from " figments of fancy, interesting
as poetry is interesting," is the " world of medicine and com-
merce ". That this is actual, he says, is " so obvious to every

170 H. WILDON CAEE:

man in his sane moments that I have always thought it idle
to argue the point ". I am ready to admit that every man
in his sane moments makes this distinction between the
actual and the mythical, but for a philosopher on the ground
of such a distinction to accept the actual world uncritically
at its face value appears to me a renunciation of philosophy.

It is not a little curious to contrast this marked indifference
of a philosopher to the new scientific discovery with the pro-
found consciousness the mathematicians express of its funda-
mental philosophical significance. I have in mind particu-
larly Eddington, Weyl, Thirring and Einstein himself, to
mention only a few. No doubt in the seventeenth century
when the new discovery of Copernicus was winning accept-
ance among men of science the orthodox Scholastic philo-
sophers took up the same attitude of indifference towards it
which so many contemporary philosophers are now taking to
Einstein's theory, and yet the whole movement of modern
philosophy, which arose with Descartes, clearly starts from
the Copernican revolution, is based upon it, and not only
historically but intrinsically is unintelligible save in the light
of it. Prof. Weyl has expressed the opinion that the dis-
covery of Einstein is no whit inferior to the discovery of
Copernicus in the tremendous consequences which follow
from it and in its complete reversal of our ordinary conception
of the nature of the physical universe. This is no exaggera-
tion. To me it seems certain that even the most brilliant
scientific achievements of the nineteenth century will in the
future be classified as pre-Einstinian.

The analogy between the two theories is in itself very re-
markable. It may be illustrated in regard to quite ordinary
experience. For example, everyone knows the danger of
alighting from a train in motion and also that the danger is
proportionate to the velocity of the train. Most of us think
that the explanation is simple, and so obvious as to seem self-
evident. It is due we suppose to our inability to keep our
balance. It seems both impossible and unnecessary to imagine
an alternative. We suppose that the moving system of the
train has induced some subtle change in our mentality, form-
ing a habit which we cannot break when we pass suddenly
from the train ^to the platform. Yet there is an alterna-
tive explanation! It may be due to a cause which is purely
geometrical and to no change whatever in ourselves. The
space into which we step may be so altered in its character
by the movement of the train relatively to it, that the direction
of things entering it are automatically changed. Again, to
take another example, we are all familiar with the popular

EINSTEIN'S THEOKY AND PHILOSOPHY. 171

experiment in physical laboratories to show the behaviour of
iron filings when a magnet is brought into their neighbour-
hood. We say that the filings are magnetised and suppose
that the definite and ordered arrangement they assume is
due to a change they have undergone under the influence
of the magnet. But there is an alternative explanation.
It may be due to the geometry of the magnetic field. It
may be that the filings undergo no change in their nature
whatever and that their apparent behaviour may be the
simple and mechanical effect of the strains and tensions of
space in the magnetic field. According to the generalised
theory, this is the scientific explanation. The reason for
choosing these alternatives in each of these cases is that the
interpretation of the phenomena they offer is at once simpler
and intelligible. Precisely in the same way when Copernicus
announced the" helio-centric alternative as an interpretation
of celestial phenomena, it forced itself on the acceptance of
the scientific world by its simplicity and intelligibility.

I am quite ready to admit that philosophy, in its technical
meaning, is not necessarily concerned with the reasons which
men of science may have for deciding between alternatives
such as these. But suppose a philosopher or a philosophy to
be committed to one interpretation of the facts, presupposing
it as the starting-point of theory and therefore excluding the
alternative, there is no possibility of indifference then. It is
not a matter for the mathematicians to settle, for the philo-
sophy stands or falls with the decision. This seems to me to
be precisely the case in which the materialists and natural
realists stand. They suppose they can be indifferent whereas
their whole philosophical principle is at stake.

To return for a moment to our two illustrations, the alter-
native interpretations bring to light two principles which
present to one another a complete contrast. The common-
sense interpretation invokes as fact, on the basis of empirical
intuition, a principle which on the objective side is both un-
intelligible and irrational — the principle of action at a distance ;
and on the subjective side supposes occult changes in the
nature of the agent which induce an illusion in the action, in
itself quite inexplicable. The other principle interprets the
behaviour by simply setting itself to discover the geometry of
the field in which the apparent action occurs. From the
standpoint of pure methodology only the second principle can
claim to be scientific.

So far, however, I have spoken of these two alternatives as
though the choice were freely open to us to accept or reject
either, and as though, in choosing, the only decisive factors

172 H. WILDON CAKE:

were simplicity and convenience. But science requires more
than this, it wants assurance of fact. It must be satisfied
before everything that the basis of reality on which it builds
is absolute. It cannot compromise. Galileo, after his re-
cantation, when the famous words eppur si nwove escaped
his lips, was instinctively expressing the inmost nature of the
scientific spirit. Einstein is his true follower. He sees with
the clearness of intuition that the one essential condition of
science is the absoluteness of its foundation, and his marvel-
lous genius has directed him unerringly to the only ground
on which that absoluteness can be established — sense-ex-
perience.

I will now explain what I take to be the special and im-
portant work of Einstein so far as it affects philosophy. It
seems to me then that just as Descartes, probing the signi-
ficance of the Copernican theory and forced thereby to his
method of universal doubt, discovered the fundamental truth
that the "I think" affirms an existence secure from doubt,
so Einstein, searching for the significance of the negative
result of the Michelson-Morley experiment, and convinced of
the impossibility and futility of presupposing the existence
of the absolute which science requires, in a hypothetical
substratum, concluded that it must lie in knowledge itself.
To this conclusion he was no doubt directed by the influence
on him of the work of Ernst Mach. He finds the absolute
precisely where Descartes found it, in the " I think " of
active living experience, but whereas Descartes failed to
discover any way of passing from the " I think " to the
reality of the physical world, and at last fell back on the
expedient of invoking the principle of the veracity of God,
Einstein has found a way which at no point whatever in-
troduces either hypothetical factor or transcendent cause.
It is this, apart from any special value in his actual mathe-
matical work, which constitutes the claim of his theory to be
philosophy. His scheme of a universal geometry is in its
essentials remarkably similar to Descartes's universal mechan-
ism. It differs from it in the important particular that
whereas Descartes conceived the universe as three-dimen-
sional, and its space as Euclidean, and independent of the
time-factor, Einstein conceives it as four-dimensional with
time as one of the axes of co-ordination, but the superiority
of Einstein's scheme from the standpoint of philosophy is
that its construction and constitution are inherent in and
never transcend the conditions of actual individual experience.

The principle of relativity is not the rejection of an absolute
and the affirmation of universal relativity. That would

EINSTEIN'S THEOBY AND PHILOSOPHY. 173

be equivalent to the affirmation of universal scepticism.
What the principle rejects is an absolute which is independent
of experience, and therefore outside knowledge, an absolute
which has to be postulated as the condition of knowledge.
The absolute of the relativists is in experience and there-
fore wears a different aspect. The principle of relativity
claims that it is workable and that it provides a position
from which advance can be made and nature interpreted.
It yields in the first place a mathematics, and this in its
turn can offer a material to physics. It completely reverses
therefore the old order according to which mathematics was
an abstraction from physics. In the new principle physics
depends on mathematics and not vice versa, and mathe-
matics becomes an empirical instead of a transcendental
science.

It was a scientific discovery, and a philosophical necessity
arising from that discovery, which led Newton to affirm
absolute space and time. It is because the theory was based
upon and necessitated by a definite scientific fact that Newton
never regarded it as hypothesis. The discovery was that
there is a velocity of light. The story of the reflection on
the fall of the apple belongs to the year 1665, the Principia
was published in 1686. It was midway between these
two events, in 1675, that Boemer, the Danish astronomer,
observed the discrepancies in the times of Jupiter's moons,
which could only be satisfactorily explained by the theory
that there is a definite velocity of the propagation of light.
It was this discovery, previously neither suspected nor
even imagined, which necessitated the postulate of absolute
space and time. It is clear that without such a postulate it
was no longer possible to fix a time-table for astronomical
events. The planetary movements do not occur when they
are observed, their precise date must be calculated. This is
why, in spite of all philosophical difficulties and theological
objections, Newton's postulate won immediate and universal
recognition in science. For two centuries nothing occurred
to throw doubt on it. But now a scientific discovery,
and a philosophical necessity arising from that discovery,
has led Einstein to reject this postulate and compelled
him to look elsewhere than in space or time, or generally in
the external world considered as independent existence, for
an absolute on which to base the concept of physical reality.
Let us then endeavour to follow the argument in so far as a
principle of philosophy is involved.

The velocity of light must, as Newton saw, be included in
all the equations which are concerned with the measurement

174 H. WILDON CAER :

of celestial phenomena. Scientific discovery has now estab-
lished as fact that this velocity, though finite, is constant for
all observers, whatever the relative velocity of the systems
to which they are attached. The postulated absolute of
Newton's Principia is therefore condemned as futile. The
reason is obvious. There can be no experience of an inde-
pendent system of reference which would provide us with the
means of compounding the velocity of light with velocities of
translation, because light signals are our ultimate resource.
Clearly all astronomical observations, that is, all knowledge
of the universe beyond the range of our muscular and other
bodily activities, depend on visual experience and its inter-
pretation. Velocity is a ratio between two factors, space and
time. If then a velocity is constant under conditions which
imply variation, the component factors must vary. It follows
therefore that the absolute is not in the object of knowledge
taken in abstraction, that is, it is not in the external world,
it is in the observer or subject of knowledge and a function
of his activity. How then is subjectivism avoided and
physical science possible ? This is the point of supreme
philosophical interest.

The absolute is the " I think " which in affirming its activity
posits existence. The " I think " does not presuppose exist-
ence ; it is not generated but generator. What does it pos-
sess wherewith to construct, order, regulate, and constitute
the world which it posits by the very nature of its activity ?
Descartes replied, extension and movement ; these, he said,
are clear and distinct ideas in our mind and their existence
as an external world is guaranteed by the veracity of God.
Einstein replies, sense-experience ; this alone is the immediate
object of consciousness, and from it therefore the physical
reality of science is constituted. What then is the mode or
form of the activity of the "I think" which gives this
physical reality ? Einstein replies, geometrising. Sense-ex-
perience presents itself to consciousness in the form of event,
and the fundamental activity of consciousness consists in co-
ordinating events. In this co-ordinating we use four axes,
three for space and one for time, and thereby we are able to
fix the point-instant of every event in relation to every other.
How does such a process, being essentially individual, yield a
common objective universe, a universe of which there can be
mathematical and physical science in the absolute meaning? It
is in the answer to this question that the whole significance for
philosophy of Einstein's scientific revolution seems to me to lie.

The starting-point of the new theory is the rejection out-
right, not on purely logical or epistemological grounds, but

EINSTEIN'S THEORY AND PHILOSOPHY. 175

as experimentally disproved, of the belief in a substratum,
material or spiritual, mathematical (space-time) or physical
(matter or ether), hypothetically postulated as the cause of
the phenomena of nature. The rejection of this hypothesis
in any form leaves us with only one alternative. If the ab-
solute is not what we observe in nature, and nature does not
supply us with a standard of reference, then the phenomena
of nature must be relative to a standard which is furnished
by the observer himself. That we do in fact furnish our-
selves with a standard in measuring phenomena is entirely
in accord with experience. Our " I think " is as matter of
fact attached to a system of reference, primarily to our body
as the mobile instrument of activity, secondarily to a particu-
lar physical environment which provides and also limits the
range of our activity. It is from these systems of reference,
and in relation to them, that we derive our axes of co-ordina-
tion, and determine our units of measurement. We find
therefore in ourselves, in the activity of consciousness itself,
in the nature of the " I think " and the necessity it imposes
upon us of organising our activity, both the standard of
magnitude and the norm of direction. ' When we observe
systems in movement, systems of reference to which we are
not attached and which are moving uniformly or non-uni-
formly in relation to our own, we co-ordinate these, but
necessarily from the standpoint of our own system at rest.
If this be granted let us see precisely what follows from it.
The principle declares, we repeat, that an observer attached
to a system of reference, co-ordinates every point-instant of
an event, and the world-line, that is, the track of such an
event in the four-dimensional universe of his sense-experience,
not from the standpoint of an independent absolute system,
but from the fixity or stability of his own system regarded as
at rest. It follows then that if the observer's system itself
changes relatively to other systems such change will appear
as change in the other systems. Also if the observer pass
suddenly from one system of reference to another, which may
even reverse all the conditions of the first, he will carry with
him the standard and norm, and these will automatically
adjust themselves, so that every system into which he passes
will by the very condition of his attachment to it be a system
at rest. All this the principle itself explicitly lays down.
We have then only to extend it by the recognition that to
every observer attached to a system moving in relation to
ours, his system is for him at rest and ours to him is moving,
and his axes of co-ordination must then vary in relation
to ours according to the velocity and uniformity of his

176 H. WILDON CAKE:

movement relatively to ours. There is no limit to this principle
theoretically. There is a geometry therefore of every point-
instant in the universe because we can conceive it as a system
of reference from which some observer is co-ordinating events.
No point and no instant can have relations to other points
and other instants which are identical for observers in differ-
ent systems. Is such an infinite plurality and absolute sub-
jectivity consistent with the community of basis which science
demands for its reality ?

A very simple illustration from ordinary experience may
serve to indicate the nature of the reply to this question.
What do we mean when we speak of pain ? We all know
what it is, and we distinguish it into kinds according to the
definite conditions under which it occurs, and not according
to the individuality of the persons who experience it. We
conceive pain as identical though the subjects who experience
it are diverse. In what then does this identity consist?
Clearly not in sameness for there is no sameness. What one
individual experiences cannot be experienced by another.
Identity consists simply in the fact that we can establish
point-to-point correspondences between individuals. No one
imagines that to establish identity there must be assumed to
exist an independent pain-in-itself which no one suffers but
which is the transcendental cause when anyone suffers.
Einstein holds that precisely the same principle applies to the
co-ordination of events and to scientific reality in general.
There is no unco-ordinated event, no absolute event in an in-
dependent system, and there is no sameness of events occur-
ring to different observers. In order that there shall be
identical events for observers in different systems, all that is
necessary is that the axes of co-ordination of any system
shall correspond with those of another and therefore be trans-
formable one into another. Observers in different systems
will then describe the observed event in the same terms, the
facts will be common to all, and the laws of nature will be
universal.

The whole conception of the universe is now seen to be the
exact reverse of that on which materialists and natural
realists have insisted. Instead of a limited knowledge of an
infinite universe, the new principle gives us a universe the
knowledge of which is unbounded but the reality of which is
finite. The two essential conditions on which the material-
istic conception depended, simultaneity and direction, condi-
tions of the possibility of dating every event and fixing every
point, have been falsified by experiment. The new concep-
tion is not the arbitrary speculation of a fertile imagination,

EINSTEIN'S THEORY AND PHILOSOPHY. 177

it is imposed on thought by an inherent necessity of its
nature. The physical universe is the systematisation of
infinite space-time systems, on a principle which only asks us
never to loosen our hold on experience in order to go beneath
or beyond it, but always and only to seek to interpret it.

Einstein's conclusion that the physical universe is finite
but unbounded follows necessarily from the principle that
the absolute is the "I think" of personal experience and
from the fact that the nature of its activity is geometrising.
The universe is finite because the straight line of every
observer is curved for other observers, and therefore every
straight line is a geodesic which at infinity must return on
itself ; and the universe is unbounded because the approach
to the limit is infinite.

I will carry this argument no further, not because I am.
likely to have said enough to silence criticism, but because to
interpret the full significance of the argument for this con-
ception of a finite yet unbounded universe would involve the
history of the mathematical researches of Gauss andBiemann,
and the physical researches of Faraday, Clerk Maxwell, and
their successors, a task I am not competent to undertake.
My argument is addressed ,to my fellow-philosophers. I am
amazed at what seems to me their short-sightedness in
imagining that philosophy can be indifferent to this stupen-
dous revolution in science.

12

V.— DISCUSSIONS.
"THIS OR NOTHING."

I SHOULD like to make my position clear, if I can, on two principal
points of the logical doctrine asserted in my book Implication and
Linear Inference. Such explanations would have been better in
place, perhaps, in a second edition, rather than in MIND at an
interval of two years after Prof. Broad's very courteous review.1
But an opportunity of the former kind does not always occur.

I can best introduce my explanations if I refer here and
there to the review in question. But my hope is that what I say
may be enough of a positive development to have an interest for
its own sake, and not to be regarded in a controversial light.

The two points I wish to speak of are (1) My attitude towards
accepting laws of logic or axioms of science separately and each on
its own merits, and (2) The possibility, on the principle I advocate,
of admitting that there exists a legitimate Induction, such as
establishes general laws which can be " borrowed " and " applied,"
distinct from the "linear" inference against which my main
argument, in the work on Implication, is directed.

It appears to me to-day that one preliminary word is needed to
justify the negative approach to my principle indicated in the
phrase "this or nothing". Why not, "this because of every-
thing"? The principle seems naturally to frame itself in the
former shape. And I suppose the reason is that denying a pro-
position may force us to deny many propositions which are not
necessary to prove it. And, therefore, by examining how much
we must affirm in the antecedent in order to establish the conse-
quent, we could not exhibit the connexion of the two as completely
as by enquiring how much we must deny if we deny the conse-
quent.

(1) Thus it would seem that at any rate we lose nothing by
starting from the denial of the consequent. It experiments with
the truth the condition of whose validity is to be considered, and
raises a direct discussion of what that condition is.

The form of argument which I am going to adopt in carrying
out this procedure, is not, I think, the only form conceivable ; but
I prefer it as representing, in my belief, the normal path of our
thought, although it involves, I think, a paradox which I have
not seen noted before.

1MiND, July, 1920.

BEKNARD BOSANQUET : "THIS OR NOTHING". 179

Thus, instead of at once pronouncing that we must violate one
of the laws of logic, the law of antecedent and consequent, if we
elect, on denying the consequent, to maintain the affirmation of
the antecedent ; we would rather try the experiment of relying on
those laws to the bitter end, and noting the result to our knowledge
and to themselves.

In this form of argument then, I should not refuse to draw the
normal inference from the denial of a consequent to the denial of
its acknowledged antecedent. The denial of the consequent is
here postulated to be unreasonable, but we accept it ad hoc, and
ask where it leads us. It leads us, of course, through the denial
of the first antecedent to the denial of the whole series of ante-
cedents in which each in turn is a consequent. And this result
must necessarily expand, and infect ultimately the entire connected
system on the basis of which the truth originally denied is taken
as established. Every such system possesses connexions which
link each individual truth with an ample system of confirmatory
truths, and as these successively come to be denied the disease
must spread deeper into the roots of the reality we believe in, and
therefore also more widely over other superficial truths which
share these roots with the truth first denied.

I will not occupy space by drawing out an example, which is
easily done, but will merely say what I have in mind as a very
obvious case, and that is that the ungrounded denial (this of course
is the point ; a grounded denial would merely set up the ordinary
process by which experience corrects our knowledge) of, say, a
historical truth, would bring us in a very few steps to the denial
that sense-perception has any validity at all (not merely the denial
of any special theory of its modus operandi). And along with this
would go the reliability of historical canons, and of human testi-
mony and communication in toto. How far our doctrine of space
and time would survive the repudiation of sense-perception it is
beyond me to say. But I should have thought the world of our
experience would be pretty well reduced to chaos by such a train
of argument, which might be extended, I really think, at pleasure.
With any scientific truth such an argument would be much more
effective.

But of course, as the reader sees at once, in this argument we
have implied an extraordinary paradox. We have not prima facie
contradicted the laws of logic, but on the contrary we have so far
got a lot of work out of them, using them to demolish the accepted
structure of our world.

Nevertheless, at the bitter end, it seems to me that we do get
the surprising situation that in virtue of the laws of logic we are
driven (supposing the complete success in principle of this negative
argument) to try to assert, what has to begin with a perfectly
definite meaning, " No propositions are true ". Such a proposition
claims of course to deny both itself and the laws of logic, which so
far we have not denied, but have relied on.

180 BEBNAKD BOSANQUET I

There is a doctrine (Broad, MIND, 115, p. 327) according to which
this form of words " Nothing is true " is meaningless, and so is not
a proposition. I am not able to estimate that doctrine, but the
suggestion is helpful. I accept it, and interpret it thus.

The proposition in question is certainly in one aspect meaning-
less. Every negation contains a failure to think. Every negation
rests on a privation. At the actual point where exclusion or
collision should be present the terms do not quite come together.
There is a gap. We "do not see," we " cannot understand," we
"cannot think" how the proposition can be thought; how its
terms can be brought into union. "No square is round" ; that is,
we do not see how round and square can be thought as one. Now
our proposition " Nothing is true " is the limiting case of this
failure. In face of our postulated denial of an unimpeachable
truth, we "do not understand," we "cannot think," how any
proposition can be true. The meaninglessness, or failure to
achieve a thought, characteristic of negation, is here extended to
the union of the terms, say, " proposition " and " truth ". A
proposition to this effect is certainly, on one side, meaningless.
But yet again we know what it means, as we know what is meant
by a square not being round. We know what a proposition is
and what truth is, and so we know what we are attempting when
we try to think them in one, and, because of a certain condition,
fail. Thus the proposition is meaningless, as the limiting case of
negation. It is a failure to think, as conveying a contradiction ;
but it is not unintelligible.

Now in being brought to attempt to assert it, we have been
brought to attempt to deny the laws of logic ; for they are propo-
sitions and we are to deny all propositions. How is it conceivable
that we should deny them, when we have assumed them through-
out our argument? And how are we to state the reason, for
which, nevertheless, we find it impossible to deny them ?

It would be a paradox, but it would illustrate my view very
suggestively, to say that we deny them, under the supposed con-
dition, because it forbids us to make a proposition ; and not that
we are unable to make a proposition because we are denying the
laws of logic.

For I do not think that the view which says that we accept
them, and other truths which seem to have the same kind of
evidence, severally each on its own merits, and the view which I
express as " This or nothing," are really so much in conflict as
might appear. What I should say here is that the fundamental
fact is the spirit of self-development in thought, revealed by the
ideal experiment made in actual thinking. Thought will go for-
ward if it possibly can. It will affirm meanings ; and order or
connexion which is one side of meaning. This might be called a
non-formal principle.1 The laws of logic and other axioms are
merely, I suggest, the expression of our elementary experiments in

1 Gf. Bradley, Principles of Logic, p. 451.

"THIS OE NOTHING". 181

actual thinking at different points of our experience. Each, there-
fore, is certainly necessary on its own merits. Thought, experi-
menting at the point concerned, will make its advance, and will
not be denied. But this is only because thought cannot help doing
its work of synthesis and analysis, effecting any advance to which
they point the way ; and all the laws and axioms are just initial
conditions of its orderly connexions, consisting in pervading con-
nexions of the same kind.

And, as I suggested, if thought is stopped from experimenting,
i.e., from thinking, then it has no means of displaying its necessity.
Here zs actually our ultimate contradiction. If we are not allowed
to think, we are not allowed to exercise the act which these per-
vading laws need for their establishment. They are not premises.
They are principles evident throughout our thinking as the
manners of its self-assertion. The principle of Disjunction does
not depend on the Law of Excluded Middle. The "law" is a
case of the principle, which you can see at work in any disjunction.
It is a consequence of using the negative as an absolute alternative,
which is a necessity of the method by which thought proceeds.
But if thought is forbidden to proceed, the principle cannot be
established.

This is not a " psychological " necessity. It is a necessity of the
nature of reality which it is thought's function and character to reveal.
How do we know it is thought's function and character to do so ?
Because every act of thought says so. Thought, in asserting, does
not say " I think so ". It says " it is so ". " I think so " is merely
one case of "it is so," and is as absolute as any other assertion of
a fact about reality.

Thus in my view the Laws of Logic and other truths having
apparently the same kind of certainty, are, certainly, severally
necessary on their own merits, because they are established by ideal
experiment as essential to the working of thought in affirming the
systematic nature of reality. You can therefore actually use them,
where a barrier is set up against thought, to exhibit the demolition
of experience which results, and yet this demolition, as annulling
the process in which alone they can be displayed, ultimately must
bring them into contradiction with themselves. You can grasp the
Law of Identity if you can make a proposition. But suppose you
have estopped yourself from framing a proposition ?

Of course in a sense the whole argument is ideal and imaginary.
In fact, thought will not give way, and refuses to enter into the
intolerable situation depicted, in which it at once must, and cannot,
fulfil its own nature. But that is why it cannot and will not deny
an unimpeachable truth, deny, that is, without a special suspicion
at some point. If it did, it would annihilate its world.

(2) I want to point out that I fully recognise a kind of inference,
which may be called Induction, which works with borrowed
premises and to some extent with the substitution of particulars
for generals. But I believe that my principle will explain and

182 BEENABD BOSANQUET I

justify this kind of inference in the only way which is logically
sound.

Here the way is more than half cleared for me by Prof. Broad,
and I have only to show that I can avail myself of his distinction on
my principle. I quote from MIND, 115, p. 335 : " Thus the function
of substituting constants for variables is quite different in the two
cases. In the argument about the moon's motion it is a step
that actually has to be performed in the course of the proof if
the conclusion is to be reached. In the syllogism about Socrates
it is not a step in the proof, but an additional statement, which
may or may not be made, about the proof," and page 337 : " There
is a genuine connexion between the induction that only argues by
analogy and the linear inference that can only use syllogism.
The connexion is that induction which only proceeds by likeness
and difference can at most establish laws of the mere conjunction
and disjunction of attributes, and no use can be made of such
laws except as majors for syllogisms. But there are other kinds
of law, and these are reached by another kind of induction, and
can be used as premises for another kind of deduction." Com-
pare Green, Works, II., 288 : " From the connexion of any set of
phenomena as merely resembling, no science results ; once connect
them as constituents of a quantity, and we have the beginnings of
science ".

I have to show how I recognise, and explain on my principle,
the sort of Induction indicated in the last sentence quoted from
Prof. Broad.

Of course I see that general laws are " established," " borrowed,"
and " applied," in science. The question is as to the nature of the
laws and in what sense they are " borrowed ". This seems to me
to be excellently stated in the passages from Profs. Broad and
Green. As I understand, the scientific law represents a certain
stage in a process of intellectual work, an analytic synthesis or syn-
thetic analysis of a certain province of phenomena, which embodies
the connexion between the variations of their factors in what is
called a law. The warrant of the law is, surely, simply that it "saves
the appearances," in harmony, of course, with any further scientific
principles which are relevant to the problem. It is itself an insight
won by analysing the phenomena as an interdependent system, and
it is accepted because it is the only way, or the most successful
way, of ordering those phenomena. Of course I know that in this
" success" there is much that is relative, and it is even denied to
be capable of being absolute. I only say that if you take your law
as true you take it on this principle.

Now when such a law is " borrowed " and " applied " of course
I see that the mind which applies it does not unite the whole
analytic-synthetic insight and survey in which it originated with
the particulars of the case with which he is occupied. But am I
wrong in saying that he takes it up, as a basis demanding in itself
an analytic or synthetic intellectual apprehension, and further par-

183

ticularised by a continuation of the same analytic-synthetic move-
ment by which it was formed ? The movement surely is the same,
and the criterion is the same. The theory is to be what you must
have if you are going to " save the appearances". It must stand,
or the appearances and confirmatory principles must go. We must
remember that as I said above we are putting an ideal case, that of
denying without a ground. In practice, I presume, you only deny
upon a positive ground, and only assert the principle so far as to
remove the special ground of your denial. That implies our
criterion, but does not let it take its ultimate form. This is surely
because, where the ultimate form could apply, no one ever thinks
of denying.

The borrowed premise of science, then, does not exclude a pro-
cedure of extending insight into necessary relation within a system
when it comes to be applied. No insight, I think, can ever be
strictly particular ; its universality follows that of the conditions.
And surely I am justified in insisting on it as a fact that this insight
varies enormously in degree. This is both really in favour of my
view, and superficially against it. It is really for it, because it
recognises the insight or systematic apprehension on which I
insist, as an essential feature in the application of scientific prin-
ciple, which always figures in the work of application, and may
extend into the structure of the principle itself, with very great
advantage. It is superficially against it, because, where the insight
falls very low, the process takes on almost the appearance of in-
ference from mere resemblance. I am quite aware of this point
and have often insisted on it.1 Take the case of the schoolboy's
rule of thumb for the rule of three. "Multiply the second and
third together and divide by the first." If only he knew which
should be the second and third, and which should be the first ! If he
had a slight insight into the nature of proportion, I suppose he would
know this. But at least he has suggested to him the formula of an
analysis of the problem. I submit that whenever the law represents
not a repetition of conjunctions but a connexion of differents, both
it and its application depend on the principle of insight into in-
trinsic connexions, which of course may be to any extent mediated
by processes of analysis and synthesis which are the self-develop-
ment of thought. And when this is so, and consequently the
method employed in framing the law has been something analogous
to that of concomitant variations,2 I think the distinction from in-
ferences resting on resemblances remains clear, even where the law is
used pretty nearly as a rule of thumb, i.e., is almost simply
" borrowed " and " applied ".

I cannot believe that even in the more empirical sciences this
distinction can be explained away, and simple enumeration re-
established as the root of these sciences, as Mill made it the root of
all. The inherent method of thought' seems to me to forbid it, and

1 See analysis of the use of the vernier, Knowledge and Reality, p. 317ff.

2 Cf. MIND, 115, p. 337, and Green, Works, II., 285 n., quoting Deschanel.

184 BEENAED BOSANQUET : "THIS OE NOTHING ".

to show the features which exclude it to be universal. " To ask
whether A is really A, is1 to ask whether A is related to other
possible experiences B, C, as I suppose it to be." " One cannot
in strictness speak of testing a thing by itself."2 " Every question
I ask about the experience A expects for its answer other experiences
B, C, D." 3 All the laws of thought, it seems to us, are exempli-
fications of this character, and thought cannot work otherwise.
"But in linear Induction it does work otherwise." I think not.
The true uses of repetition in Induction have often been explained,4
and it is not necessary to return to them here.

1 My italics. 2Nettleship, Lectures on Logic, p. 181.

3 Ibid., p. 182. 4 See e.g., my Logic, ii., p. 135.

BERNARD BOSANQUET.

THE MEANING OF < SELF '.

THESE observations on Dr. Strong's Discussion in the January
Number do not spring, assuredly, from any desire contentiously
to prolong a somewhat involved controversy. But he has made
it so plain that he still thinks that the Self is caught in the dilemma
that it must be either an object (or a congeries of objects) or
nothing at all, and he is still so unwilling to entertain any al-
ternative which would extricate the Self that I will make one more
appeal to philosophers to reconsider the method which conducts to
this dilemma. For I know that Dr. Strong's attitude is not peculiar
to himself. It is exhibited, even more decidedly, by Mr. Russell's
Analysis of Mind, and although Hume and Mill confessed the
bankruptcy of sensationalism on this point long ago, the situation
apparently distresses Mr. Russell as little as Dr. Strong. Yet it
ought not to be impossible to convince them that their psychological
method, plausible as it is in many respects, definitely breaks down
over the crucial instance of the Self.

Before, however, endeavouring to show that this ' analysis/ after
professing to dispense with the Self, continually reintroduces it,
I must guard myself against an assumption which not only preju-
dices Dr. Strong against all I can say but blinds him to the defects
of his own theory. The assumption is that there are only two
conceivable alternatives, so that whatever proves the one untenable
ipso facto establishes the other. The soul is either a product of
* sensations,' or a metaphysical ' substance '. Now this is neither
what I believe, nor what I believe to be true. Accordingly, when
Dr. Strong thinks that after rejecting his account there is nothing
open to me but a relapse into a ' spiritualistic ' psychology with
the old metaphysical notion of the self as a simple soul-substance,
and that therefore I must be trying to make ' consciousness ' into
" a pigment or menstruum " and " be drifting back from the strictly
empirical psychology of James to something like a spiritualistic
psychology" (p. 69) an emphatic protest is in order. I have never
believed in ' consciousness ' in the sense condemned by James, and
have never held it to be more than an abstraction, or piece of
philosophic jargon, devised to conceal the personal character of
psychic facts by those who had not the courage to confess it. I
hold, on the contrary, that there is no such thing as consciousness.
The category of l thing ' does not apply to the living. But there
are persons, and conscious persons, and it is worth considering
whether these are not a better clue than ' things ' to the ' essence '
of reality. The old metaphysical soul, therefore, being a ' thing ' —

186 F. c. s. SCHILLEB:

and a futile thing to boot — is quite as objectionable in psychology as
any concretion of ' sense-data '. And I object to it no less, and for
the same reason, namely, that it too cannot be a self (such as we
all are), and it too is incapable of doing what every self habitually
and continually does. Neither the one nor the other can both
contain, and ' own,' and be, its personal experiences. This inca-
pacity I trace to a common root in the psychological method which
insists on treating the Self as if it were an ' object ' for an (external)
observer. This treatment seems to be a manifest fiction ; but this
would not discredit it if it were not plain that in this case it breaks
down. That it does break down is what I wish to impress on
Dr. Strong and Mr. Eussell. I am less concerned to show that
there is an alternative to the psychological method which breaks
down ; but if Dr. Strong is willing to envisage this alternative, it
is clear that he will have most carefully to beware of treating the
Self as an * object ' or a compositum of ' sense-data,' and that if he
will look for such things, with this method, he will find them as
little as he found ' activities ' and ' acts ' with his present method.

It may now be possible to illustrate the contention that Dr.
Strong's analysis of the Self is not adequate, after disposing of a
mutual misunderstanding. It appears from the opening paragraph
of Dr. Strong's paper that the ' Self ' equated with a ' rush of blood
and tension in the head ' was not his. Nor, certainly, is it mine.
It was merely his notion of what my ' self ' must be, on the as-
sumption that he had understood it. But as this was not the case,
it had better be dropped by common consent.

Dr. Strong's authentic 'self is, it seems, "all experience de-
objectified". What this means, and how it happens, is not quite
easy to grasp ; but it is clear that as ' de-objectify ' is a transitive
verb we ought to be informed who does the 'de-objectifying'.
The process, however, seems to start from " a sensuous state used
as the sign of an object " which " conveys the object only in the
form of a ' meaning ' and does so because we adopt the motor
attitude appropriate to the object". Again we note that ' we r
is the plural of ' I ' ; but we are not told who ' uses ' the sensuous
state, and who are the * we ' that ' adopt ' the attitude ; but the
whole description seems to savour of personal activity and to imply
the 'self which is being explained away.

We next learn that the starting-point of this explanation, the
1 sensuous state,' is not a fact of experience but a figment of ex post
facto theorising. For " at the moment of perception, being intent
on this meaning, we cannot be aware of the sensuous state".
Again who are ' we ' ? And does not ' intent ' connote activity ?

Though, however, we can never directly be aware of the ' sensuous
state,' we can infer it. " That it existed at that moment we learn
in retrospection, when we consider that the meaning was brought
before us only by the sensuous state used as a sign " ; and so " the
apparent existence of the object was really the existence of the
sensuous state or ' I ' ".

THE MEANING OF ' SELF '. 187

Thus we are asked to believe that what at the moment of ex-
perience seemed an ' object ' turns out to be, in retrospect, the
very 'self. Dr. Strong's inference has certainly transformed it
strangely ; but questions may arise both about the adequacy of the
description and about the validity of the inference. The description
seems inadequate because in ' the moment of perception ' also there
seemed to be a ' self ' actively appropriating the ' objects ' it intends,
and this self at least can hardly have been one of the objects it is
charged in retrospect with appropriating and converting to its own
' uses '. Moreover, in retrospecting also, there still seems to be a
' self ' at work (the same or another ?), and it is this that generates
the paradoxical (and possibly mistaken) doctrine of the ' I ' that
ever knows and is never known. Thus at both moments there is
found to be a ' self ' that is not accounted for by Dr. Strong.

But even if we do not cavil at the description, need we pass the
inference? If "the apparent existence of the object was really
the existence of the 'I'," is not the reality of 'objects' radically
impugned by our mature reflexion ? Ought we not to infer that
the ' I ' creates the * object ' ?

If Dr. Strong would draw this inference, he would certainly be
acquitted of the charge of ' making the ego an illusion '. But
what would then become of his realism, which seems to be
dearer to him than his very ' self ' ? He would be accused of
making the 'object' an 'illusion,' and ' subjective idealism ' is a
charge philosophers appear to dread as much as politicians tremble
at that of anti-democratic sentiments.

However it is clear that if the ' I ' is allowed in this fashion to
absorb all ' objects,' it must acquire in the process all the activity
there is — which according to Hume is not much. But the difficulty
will then be how Dr. Strong's egocentric psychology is reconcilable
with his ' realistic ' metaphysic. I have no doubt he has an answer,
but it is not yet apparent to me.

On the other hand I cannot admit that Dr. Strong has explained
what I call the ' personal ' meaning. He thinks he has, because he
has considered a case " in which J mean an object " (p. 70) ; but
as shown above it is precisely the meaning of the ' I ' and the
modus operand* of its meaning function that are omitted in the
transformation of apparent ' objects ' into an ' I '.

Finally I may remark that the passage Dr. Strong quotes from

James (p. 70), does not seem to me to be relevant to the point at
issue. It illustrates, not the non-existence of transitive and active
functions in the psychic process, but the meaning of pragmatic
verification by ' leading ' or ' consequences '. Unlike Dr. Strong,
James was never oblivious of the empirical fact that experiences
are always owned, always ' belong ' to some one, and did not imagine
that he had ' analysed ' the ' I ' : it is natural, however (though
mistaken) for Dr. Strong, who recognises no owner, to claim the
support of the passages he quotes, precisely because he sees no
problem in the ' I mean '. But James did, though he did not solve

188 F. c. s. SCHILLEE: THE MEANING OF 'SELF'.

it. And I incline to the belief that no solution of it is conceivable
until we abandon the coherent system of fictions which tries to
assimilate the method of psychology to that of physics, and to
represent ' introspection ' as a contemplation of observable ' objects,'
rather than as the reflective return of an active being on his track.

F. C. S. SCHILLER.

UNIVERSALS AND ORDERS.

THE paper on ' The Nature of Universals and Propositions ' that
was read by Prof. Stout under the auspices of the British Academy 1
in December, 1921, has opened up a very important problem and
has thrown much fresh light upon it ; and, as it seems to me to be
closely connected with what I have sought to urge with regard to
the conception of Order,2 I should like to be allowed to offer some
further observations on that subject.

Mr. Stout's main contention is that the qualities that belong to
an individual object are themselves individual qualities ; that, for
instance, the redness and roundness of a ball are as definitely in-
dividual as the ball itself — as definitely distinct, that is to say, from
any other redness and roundness. For this view he makes out a
good case up to a certain point ; but what I wish to indicate is
that his thesis, so far as he succeeds in establishing it, is simply an
application of the Hegelian doctrine of the concreteness of the
true universal or notion, which is also what I have endeavoured to
bring out by means of the conception of order. To Hegel's own
statements on the subject it is perhaps better not to refer ; for the
technicalities that he uses are of a kind that does not readily com-
mend itself to English readers. But Lotze set forth in simpler
language what I take to be the main point. All that he says in
Book I., ch. i., of his Logic is deserving of careful attention ; but it
may suffice to refer to two passages, in which he distinguishes be-
tween the abstract universal and the ' true ' universal which is
concrete. His statements do not appear to have made as much
impression as they ought on English readers.

'Abstraction,' he says (§ 23), 'is the name given to the method
by which the universal is found, that method being, we are told, to
leave out what is different in the particular instances compared
and to add together that which they possess in common. If we
look at the actual procedure of thought, we do not find this account
confirmed. Gold, silver, copper, and lead differ in colour, bril-
liancy, weight and density ; but their universal, which we call
metal, is not found upon comparison by simply leaving out these
differences without compensation. Clearly it is no sufficient de-
finition of metal to say negatively, it is neither red nor yellow nor
white nor grey; the affirmation, that it has at any rate some
colour, is equally indispensable; it has not indeed this or that

1 Published by the Oxford University Press.

2 MLND, vol. xxii., N.S., No. 86, and Elements of Constructive Philosophy,
Book I., ch. vii., Book II., ch. v., Book III., ch. iv.

190 J. s. MACKENZIE:

specific weight, this or that degree of brilliancy, but the idea of it
would either cease to have any meaning at all, or would certainly
not be the idea of metal, if it contained no thought whatever of
weight, brilliancy, and hardness. Assuredly we do not get the
universal image of animal by comparison, if we leave out of our
minds entirely the facts of reproduction, self-movement, and res-
piration, on the ground that some animals produce their young
alive, others by eggs, others multiply by division, that some again
breathe through lungs, others through gills, others through the
skin, and that lastly many move on legs, others fly, while some
are incapable of any locomotion. On the contrary, the most
essential thing of all, that which makes every animal an animal, is
that it has some mode or other of reproduction, of motion, and of
respiration. In all these cases, then, the universal is produced,
not by simply leaving out the different marks pl and p2, ql and g2,
which occur in the individuals compared, but by substituting for
those left out the universal marks P and Q, of which plp2 and q:q2
are particular kinds.' Here the objection to the abstract universal
is clearly brought out. But, in fact, it is hardly necessary to refer
to Lotze for this. Berkeley's criticism l of Locke's doctrine of the
formation of ' abstract general ideas ' might have sufficed for the
purpose. Lotze proceeds, however, a little later, to give a definite
account of the concrete universal.

' Of the true universal,' he says (§ 31), ' which contains the rule
for the entire formation of its species, it may rather be said that its
content is always precisely as rich, the sum of its marks precisely
as great, as that of its species themselves ; only that the universal
concept, the genus, contains a number of marks in a merely indefin-
ite and even universal form ; these are represented in the species
by definite values or particular characterisations, and finally in the
singular concept all indefiniteness vanishes, and each universal
mark of the genus is replaced by one fully determined in quantity,
individuality, and relation to others.'

Here, I think, we come to the exact point that Mr. Stout was
insisting on in his paper. Let us see how all this can be applied
to the particular instance of a red ball. The ball has colour, shape,
size, some degree of hardness, some position in space-time, and no
doubt a number of other characteristics which it is not necessary
to notice. We may begin with colour.

Colour is a concrete universal. It does not mean something
that is not red, blue, green or yellow, but rather something that
comprehends all these. When they are placed in their natural
relations to one another, as in the spectrum, they constitute what
I call an order. In the ball to which we are referring one member
of that order, red, has been singled out. Eed, however, is itself a
universal, and includes a number of distinct shades, which also can
be arranged in certain orders, according to degrees of intensity,
saturation, and other characteristics. In the ball, viewed at any

1 Principles of Human Knowledge, Introduction, §§ 11 sqq.

UNIVEESALS AND OBDEES. 191

particular time, a definite selection has been made in all these
respects. It is not merely red, but some quite definite red. But
this is still a universal. Any number of other balls and of other
coloured objects might have just that precise shade of red.

Similar remarks may be made about the other qualities in the
ball. Its roundness is a mode of shape, which could be placed
within a definite order of shapes, ranging from the perfect globe
through a countless number of deviations from that. The ball is
probably not a quite perfect sphere, but we may suppose that it is
approximately perfect. Even that particular approximation, how-
ever, is still a universal. An indefinite number of other bodies
might have just the same approximation. It might, for instance,
be exactly the same approximation as that which is found in the
sun or in one of the planets. And the same is evidently true of its
size and its degree of hardness. Its position in space and its
position in time, taken separately, may also be shared by an in-
definite number of other objects, but not its position in space-time.
Its position in space-time would seem to be a characteristic that
belongs only to itself as individual. Hence, we might even say
that space-time is pre-eminently the individualising function in
existence.

Looking at the matter in this way, I am led to the conclusion
that Mr. Stout is in error in believing, as he says (p. 3), that ' a
character characterising a concrete thing or individual is as par-
ticular as the thing or individual which it characterises '. Not
only each particular quality of the ball, but even the particular
combination of these qualities, might belong to an indefinite
number of other balls. The only quality that is its unique posses-
sion is its position in space-time and whatever follows from that in
its relations to other bodies, in the way of pressure, attraction, and
the like. Now, if this is the case, the application that Mr. Stout
makes of his main contention would seem to be only partly correct.
It will be well to give the application in his own words.

' At this point,' he says (p. 10), ' we are confronted by the ulti-
mate question, What is the distinction between a substance on the
one hand, and its qualities and relations on the other? To me
only one view appears tenable. A substance is a complex unity of
an altogether ultimate and peculiar type, including within it all
characters truly predicable of it. To be truly predicable of it is to
be contained within it. The distinctive unity of such a complex is
concreteness. Characters of concrete things are particular, but not
concrete. What is concrete is the whole in which they coalesce
with each other. This view of substance as a complex unity, when
coupled with the doctrine that qualities and relations are universals,
leads naturally, if not inevitably, to the denial of an ultimate
plurality of substances. This is the line of thought which we find
in Mr. Bradley and Mr. Bosanquet. Eeality must be concrete and
individual ; the individual cannot be constituted by any mere union
of universals. Yet if we inquire what so-called finite individuals

192 j. s. MACKENZIE:

are, we find nothing but qualities and relations, which, as such,
are taken to be universals. Hence, the true individual transcends
the grasp of finite thought. There can be only one substance, the
absolute and individual whole of being ; all finite existences includ-
ing finite selves are merely adjectives of this. If taken as ultimate
they are mere appearances.'

Now, I certainly think that Mr. Stout is right in believing that
the view taken by Mr. Bradley and Mr. Bosanquet leads to pure
singularism; and, it is equally true that his own view leads to
pure pluralism. But I see no real ground for following either line
of thought. Between singularism and pluralism there is what I
call cosmism, which follows from the conception of concrete uni-
versals or orders ; and the reading of Mr. Stout's interesting paper
has only served to confirm me in my adherence to that third
alternative. Indeed, I must confess that it surprises me not a little
that so many writers in this country who have been considerably
influenced by Hegel seem to have failed so completely to see the
inadequacy of the conception of substance. I should have thought
that Hegel's criticism of Spinoza — or even Berkeley's criticism of
the conception of material substance — should have sufficed to give
pause to the free use of that particular category. There seems to
be no particular harm in calling a piece of coal a substance and
inquiring what qualities belong to it ; but surely it would be absurd
to call either Mr. Bradley or Mr. Bosanquet or Mr. Stout a sub-
stance. I should have supposed that they were persons ; and,
though it is true that persons may be said to have certain qualities,
such as intelligence (which, no doubt, those particular persons have
in a very high degree), yet, on the whole, what have to be ascribed
to persons are not qualities, but modes of action — modes, in par-
ticular, of thinking, feeling, and willing. Perhaps it is true that
the qualities that are ascribed to a billiard ball or a piece of coal
are also at bottom modes of action ; l but, at any rate, the categories
of substance and attribute may be used with reference to such
bodies without doing them much injustice ; whereas it becomes
ludicrous to apply them to persons. The absurdity is well brought
out in the passage that Mr. Stout quotes from Mr. McTaggart's
recent book (p. 7) — ' A sneeze would not usually be called a sub-
stance, nor would a party at whist, nor all red-haired archdeacons.
But each of these complies with our definition, since each of them
has qualities and each is related without being a quality or relation.'
It seems clear that a definition that leads to such a conclusion
must be a faulty one. A sneeze would seem to be a complex
bodily movement of a living being ; a party at whist is a temporary
mode of association ; red-haired archdeacons are a group based on
an accidental characteristic. If we have not enough categories to
characterise such objects, the fault would appear to lie in our list
of categories. To try to bring everything under substance and its
correlatives is only to create wholly unnecessary absurdities.

1 Ultimately, I suppose, everything is what it does.

UNIVEESALS AND OEDEES. 193

Now, it seems to me that this has to some extent been done, not
only by Mr. Bradley and Mr. Bosanquet, but also by Mr. Stout
himself. Mr. Stout, seeking to avoid the Scylla of singularism,
falls into the Charybdis of pluralism. Cosmism, as I believe,
enables us to avoid both these errors. But I must now try to
explain how this is done.

The conception of Order, or of the concrete universal, when
applied to the Universe as a whole, means that it is not to be
thought of either as a mere unity or as a mere manifold, but as a
system containing a many in one. Now, when a statement of this
kind is made, it is sometimes said that practically all philosophers
are, in this sense, cosmists ; but I am afraid that that is not the
case ; or, at least, most philosophers lay so much emphasis either
on the unity or on the manifoldness of the world that the other
aspect is almost completely ignored. For Mr. Eussell reality is a
multiverse, just as for Parmenides it was an unchangeable unity.
Most others, no doubt, try to give some degree of recognition to the
aspect that, on the whole, they exclude. Indeed, even Parmenides
and Mr. Eussell may be said to have done this ; but, in so far as
they do it, they appear to be inconsistent. No one who attempts
to work out a coherent philosophy can altogether ignore either the
aspect of unity or that of multiplicity, but nearly every one tends
to stress one side or the other in such a way as to make the com-
plementary side appear illusory. Even Plato may be held to have
exaggerated the aspect of unity: even Aristotle may be held to
have exaggerated that of multiplicity. But Aristotle at least in
ancient times and Hegel in modern times may be taken as among
the best representatives of what I understand by cosmism ; and,
lest it should be supposed that I wish to confine the term to
writers with whose general views I am in agreement, I may add
that I should regard Mr. Alexander's system, with which I do not
agree, as being also a good example of what is meant. A few re-
marks about that system may help to make the meaning clear.

With the exception of Parmenides and of the most exclusively
monistic Vedantists, Spinoza is, I should suppose, the most perfect
type of a singularistic philosopher. He is so, as Hegel noted,
largely because he took substance as his fundamental conception.
Now, Mr. Alexander reckons himself to be a follower of Spinoza ;
and, in his very interesting lecture on Spinoza and Time, he has
explained how he managed to escape from the Spinozistic singular-
ism. I understand the explanation to be that he made his escape
by substituting space-time for space pure and simple. The Cartesians
in general could find no real place for time. Descartes himself
split it up into separate moments, and practically regarded each
distinct moment of existence as an independent universe — the
only connexion between the innumerable universes lying in the
fact that they are all created by God. Spinoza appears to have
adopted the simpler plan of ignoring time altogether. At any rate,
it does not count for anything in his system. Mr. Alexander, on

13

194 J. S. MACKENZIE : TJNIVEESALS AND OEDEES.

the other hand, by recognising time as one of the dimensions of the
universe, is able to assign reality to the changing modes of
experience as well as to the formal unity within which these modes
are comprehended. He thus becomes in the fullest sense a cos-
mist, having both a real unity and a real multiplicity ; and in this
way his system must be ranked among the most complete that the
wit of man has ever devised. Its only weakness as a system, so
far as I can see, lies in the fact that there does not appear to be
any real connexion between the unity and the multiplicity. Each
side has simply to be assumed. The formal unity of space-time
may, no doubt, be said to demand the distinctions that are supplied
by the separate modes ; but there seems to be nothing in the simple
nature of space-time as such that could account for the special
determinations that fall within it. Carlyle remarked that the
philosophical problem of the universe is like that which was pro-
pounded with reference to the apple-dumpling — how the apples
got in; and this certainly seems to be the chief problem that
remains in Mr. Alexander's scheme. If the order of it could be
reversed — if it could be seen that the apples were essentially prior
to their covering — the difficulty would perhaps disappear. The
Being that comes in at the end of Mr. Alexander's scheme of
evolution might perhaps serve to explain the time-process, if that
Being could be regarded as its presupposition as well as its goal.
But the system would then bear more resemblance to that of Hegel
than to that of Spinoza. Yet it would not thereby lose any of the
interest that lies in the special details with which Mr. Alexander
has enriched it. However, I refer to this only as an illustration of
what is meant by cosmism. What Plato called in the Timceus the
self-existent living being — the avro o IOTI £<3oi/ — which does not
seem to me to differ essentially from what he called in the Republic
and elsewhere the Form of Good, may be regarded as the great
concrete Universal within which all the lesser Orders find their
place ; and that may, as it seems to me, be regarded as the pre-
supposition of all particular existences, as well as the goal to which
evolution tends. Space-time is undoubtedly an important Order :
it is the Order, as I have already indicated, through which finite
individuality is made possible. But it does not by itself account
for the qualitative Orders of colour and other sensible determina-
tions that find their place within the spatio-temporal system. For
this we have need of an Order of a more concrete kind. Plato, by
speaking of the Form of Good, suggests that the Order of Value is
that in which the ultimate explanation is to be sought ; and, by
speaking of the self-existent living being, he indicates the general
nature of the reality that possesses supreme value. With both
these suggestions I should be disposed to agree ; and I think their
significance can only be properly appreciated through the full
recognition of the concreteness of the true Universal.

J. S. MACKENZIE.

PLATO AND THE POETS.

IT has often been asserted that Plato was hostile to all poetry, that
he wished to banish poets and artists altogether from his model
State. This view of his doctrine has come down to us from ancient
times, at least from the fifth century of our era. I find it in Proclus
and in St. Augustine ; it is assumed in the literary controversies
of the seventeenth century, and has been repeated again and again
by representative scholars of our own time down to Prof.
Wilamowitz-Mollendorff's great work upon Plato published two
years ago. Such a doctrine from a writer who has been universally
acclaimed as the artists' philosopher KO.T e£ox?jv; who clinches
almost every argument with an appeal to the Muses ; who has left
us in the various " myths" scattered through his dialogues some of
the most impressive prose-poems that exist in any language, would
seem, to say the least, a little perplexing. It could only be accepted
as his deliberate teaching if it were found definitely stated in ex-
press terms, at different epochs, and especially if it could be brought
into harmony with the general trend of his thought as exhibited in
his works taken as a whole.

I propose in the following to enquire how far the view that poets*
are to be excluded from the republic of Kallipolis is justified by an
examination of some of the principal passages which refer to the
subject. They are mainly in Books in. and X. of the Republic.

Plato begins the third book by an enumeration — continued from
Book II. — of passages from Homer, which he says are neither
moral nor true (ovO' oo-ia ovr a\r)0rf), and corrupt those who hear
them. Such, Socrates says, ought to be excised. Observe that
there is not a word about forbidding all poetry, but only of ex-
purgating certain passages which tend to degrade the minds of the
hearers.

He now passes to the form (Xe'&s, 392 C sqq.), and insists very
strongly on a distinction between SiTJy^o-is (narrative) and /u/A^o-ts
(imitation). The distinction seems to be fundamental in Plato's
mind, but it is not at all clear what he means.1 Sometimes in the
sequel he seems to imply that all art is /xt/x^o-is ; more often he
draws a sharp distinction between imitation and other art. He
here illustrates it from the opening episode of the Iliad, where
Homer relates the visit of Chryses to Agamemnon to recover his
daughter, continuing his speech in the first person ; that is, he gives
the very words of Chryses, thus as it were himself assuming the
character of the person about whom the story is told. This Plato
calls " imitation," and as he expressly connects it with tragedy

1 That he does not use the term in the wider sense of Aristotle's Poetics
is abundantly clear. I shall return to this point later on.

196 GEO. AINSLIE HIGHT :

and comedy we may suppose that by imitation he means dramatic
poetry; he would like to close the theatres, and so Adeimantus
understands him. But, he says, there is more than this. He
continues (394 D) :—

What I meant to say was that we must come to some agreement
as to whether the poets should be allowed to tell their story
by " imitation," or whether only some things should be
imitated, others not, and which in each case ; or whether
they should not imitate at all.

He does not want to close the theatres, but to regulate them.
This question he does not deal with at once, but passes on to an-
other, whether the Guardians should be imitators, deciding it in the
negative, on the rather curious ground that no one can successfully
imitate many things ; but he again qualifies it (395 C) : —

But if they do imitate let them from childhood imitate suitable
things — the brave, the wise, the holy, the free, and all such ;
what is unfree, or otherwise base, that they should not do,
neither should they be skilled in imitating it, lest from the
semblance they pass to the reality.

The difference is not between imitation and narration, but as before,
between worthy and unworthy subjects. Similarly in 396 B, C : —
There is a certain kind of speech which a fair and good man will
naturally choose for his narrative when he has anything to
say, and another sort, quite unlike it, which a man of an
opposite nature and education will affect. ... It seems to
me that a decent person, when he comes to tell about the
deeds or sayings of a good man, will wish to put himself in
his place. The imitation of a good man, acting with firm-
ness and wisdom, is not a thing to be ashamed of ...
only when he comes upon anything unworthy of himself he
will not care seriously to adopt the role of one who is his
inferior, except just as a passing incident.

Here the distinction at first drawn between Sujyv/cris and /u/Mpo-ts is
dropped altogether ; what he wishes to exclude is a debased sort of
art. Then follows the famous passage, 398 A : —

Should a man so clever that he can personate and imitate every-
thing present himself in our state and wish to exhibit his
accomplishments, we should make obeisance to him as a
holy and wonderful and pleasant individual, but should in-
form him that there is no such person in our state, nor
were it right that there should be. We will anoint his
head with perfume, crown him with wool, and send him
off to some other city. For ourselves, for our own use, we
will engage a more austere and less pleasing poet and story-
teller ; one who shall imitate the style of things fitting and
proper, and shall deliver his message after the fashion which
we approved in the beginning, when we were endeavouring
to train the military officers.

The person expelled is not any poet, not even the "imitator" as
such, but one pf those mountebank artists who pander to the

!

PLATO AND THE POETS. 197

popular taste for low entertainment, one who can imitate
barking dogs, crowing cocks, and the like (c/., 397 A). This is
confirmed a little later, where Socrates says in the most emphatic
language that artists who follow what is beautiful and becoming
are to be sought after (399 A-C ; 401 C-D).

It would be tedious to multiply passages ; there are many more,
in the Laws and elsewhere, of which I will quote a selection at the
end. I do not wish to lay stress upon such sayings as that in Lysis,
214 A, where he calls the poets our fathers and leaders in wisdom ;
or in the Symposium, 209, where he couples the names of Homer and
Hesiod with those of Solon and Lycurgus as begetters of <f>p6vrj(n<s
and all other virtue ; because they may have been written before
his thought was fully matured. Still they are in keeping with
the rest, and with the Laws, which represents his latest and most
advanced teaching, where he says (801 A) that the sort of poetry
which is of good omen should be found everywhere, and with
Republic, 401 D, where he declares that for education the most
powerful nourishment is to be found in occupation with the Muses
(KvpLOiTarrj ei/ fj.ovc7LKfj rpo^). It is impossible in the face of such a
pronouncement to maintain that he wished to banish all art.

The tenth book opens with a categorical rejection of all
imitation :

To fJ-T/jSa/jifj 7rapa.8ex€<r@ai avrrjs oar] ^I/XT/TIKT/.

We will accept none of it that is imitative.

Nothing could be plainer, and Socrates declares that it is the
thing which pleases him best of all the institutions of Kallipolis.
A little later he adds in the same vein (607 B) :

ciKOTw? apa Tore avryv IK rfjs TrdAews a7re<rTe'AAo/>iej/ TOLavrrjv ovcrav.

We were justified in sending it (poetry) out of the State, its nature
being of such a kind.

Isolated passages of this kind occur in the dialogues, and are
liable on hasty reading to be misunderstood ; but they will not bear
examination ; they are always qualified in some way, in this in-
stance by the words oo-rj /xi/op-i/o; in the first quotation, and its
equivalent roiam^v ova-av in the second. It all turns therefore on
the meaning of //.i/x^o-is, of which he now gives a new explanation,
in accordance with his theory of Ideas. There are, he says, three
stages : Idea — particular object, or imitation of the Idea — artistic
representation of the particular, an imitation of an imitation, so
that poets are in the third remove from the truth (597 E). He
then goes over much of the old ground ; the rest of this part of the
dialogue is entirely devoted to Homer, to showing that he ought
not to be accepted as the educator of Hellas (606 E-607 A).

Therefore, I said, O Glaucon, when you hear people lauding
Homer ; when he is called the educator of Hellas, a guide
who may with advantage be accepted for every department
of human activity, by whose precepts everyone should
regulate his life — when you hear them talk like this, by all
means welcome them kindly; they are excellent people
from their point of view, and we will agree that Homer is

198 GEO. AINSLIE HIGHT :

a most poetical person, the first of tragedians. But they
must be told that the only poems which we can accept are
hymns to the gods and praises of good men. Once you
admit the voluptuous Muse, whether in tones or in words,
your city will be ruled by considerations of pleasure and
pain, not by the standards which have always been approved
as the best, those of law and reason.

When we remember on the one hand the extravagant claims that
were put forward on behalf of Homer, how he was regarded, not
only as a great religious teacher, but as an inspired source of all
knowledge, and on the other the monstrous immorality and
aesthetic repulsiveness of some of the conduct which he ascribes to
the gods of Olympus, especially to the supreme deity, the father of
gods and men, it might occur to a modern reader that a protest on
that score from a leader of Athenian thought was not only natural
but very necessary. It is not a case of overstrained Puritanism.
Much of the Iliad must have shocked a pious Athenian very much
as we should be shocked by a poet who should make comic songs
on our sacred Scriptures. It is Homer's irresponsible flippancy
that has roused Plato's indignation and provoked his invective.
The reservation which he makes of hymns to the gods and praises
of good men is of course capable of very wide interpretation ; it
might be understood to include almost anything — even the Iliad
and the Odyssey.

That Plato had a standing quarrel with the poets in vogue in his
day I do not of course wish to deny. He displays considerable
animus, and sometimes his language towards them is very harsh.
We must distinguish between the Idea of poetry avro KaO'avro and
its imperfect representation in the poetry of literature. Plato's
polemic is directed against the poets as he knew them in Athens in
the fourth century, not against poetry itself. It is not the Muses
that he wishes to banish, but the poets who insult them. His own
word for a person sunk in a state of degraded ignorance is a^ovo-os
— deserted of the Muses.

I return to the question of /U/X^CT-IS and Plato's assignment of
the artist to the third remove from truth. Schopenhauer in the
third book of his Welt als Wille und Vorstellung has shown that
what the artist really imitates is directly the Idea, without the
intervention of the particular. The same seems implied in Plato's
Bepublic, V., 472 D : otet av ovv . . . and again in VI., 484 C : oWe/a
ypa</>ets €ts TO aX-rjOtararov a7ro/3A.€7rovT€9. Perhaps this will throw
some light upon what he means by imitation. He must mean
what is called " realism " in art, i.e., minute, uncritical, vulgar
accuracy in depicting the obvious external features of an object,
and thereby obscuring its organic unity as an Idea. I think this
distinction must have been in Beethoven's mind when he wrote
over the Pastoral Symphony : " Mehr Empfindung als Malerei ".
That Plato had in view the popular poets, artists, actors, etc., of his
own day seems indicated by Republic, III., 395 D-397 B, where

PLATO AND THE POETS. 199

he describes very vividly some of the tricks which were practised
on the Athenian stage — imitation of scolding women, crowing
cocks, bleating sheep, creaking wheels, drunkards and the like.
In Laws, 700, he contrasts the songs of his day with the good old
songs and dances of a former age, and traces the gradual degrada-
tion of public taste. Would it be fanciful to suppose that the
moral and nervous strain of the great war of ancient Hellas was
followed by an exhaustion showing itself in the vulgarisation of
artistic taste in public representations not unlike that which we
see in our own day ?

We must not unduly press consistency upon Plato. So long as
we hang upon the words it must be admitted that his language is
sufficiently obscure. Two things, however, stand out very clearly :
(1) That the only poetry to be forbidden is that which has a cor-
rupting tendency ; that poets are not to be allowed to mix poison with
their sweets. On the contrary, all that ennobles, all that tends to
make men dvSpeiovs, <r<o0poi/as, OO-LOVS, eA.ev#e/oovs should be welcomed
and encouraged. (2) That Homer is not to be accepted as an
infallible guide on every conceivable subject.

Plato's doctrine is that of Euskin and of Eichard Wagner — I
believe of all who have pondered much upon art — that the purpose
of art is didactic ; that poetry is not a light diversion for leisure
moments, but a means of drawing the soul upwards to the realisa-
tion of the avro ayaOov. It is opposed to the feebler doctrine of
" art for art's sake ".

GEO. AlNSLIB HlGHT.

OXFORD,
IQth November, 1921.

I conclude with an enumeration of some of the more important
passages in the dialogues which refer to our subject : —

On the general question of poetry and art : —

Republic, II., 379 C, sqq. ; III., 386 A-402 A ; X., 595 A ; 603 A-
608 A. Laws, II., 654 C ; III., 682 A ; 700-701 ; IV., 719 B, C ;
VII., 799 ; 801 A-E ; 810 E ; 816 E-817 D ; XII., 967 C, D.
Apology, 22 A-C ; 41 A. Lysis, 214 A. Symposium, 209 A, D.
Gorgias, 501 E-502 E. Theaetetus, 194 E (6 -n-avra o-o^o? TTOI^TIJ*? —
perhaps ironical). Sophist, 266 D; 268 C. Phadrus, 245 A;
278 B, C.
On [j,i[j.r)(n<s : —

t Republic, III, 392 D-397 D ; X., 595 A-605 C ; 606 E-607 A.
Sophist, 236 C ; 267 A, B.
On Homer : —

Republic, II., 379 C, sqq. ; III., 386 A, sqq. ; X., 595 B; 599 C-
600 E ; 607 A. Ion.
On the character of popular entertainment in Athens : —

Republic, III., 395 D-397 B. Laws, III., 700 A-701A; VII.,
789 B, C.

ON CERTAIN METHODOLOGICAL ASPECTS OF THE THEORY
OF RELATIVITY.

THERE are many aspects of the Theory of Relativity which involve
problems until lately the exclusive property of Philosophy. Chief
among these is the problem of Space and Time. In the theory these
conceptions are given a definite status. There are now various
different views of the characteristics of Space, held by different
writers on Relativity ; and it is a very satisfactory sign of the vigour
of modern physics that such different systems as those of Einstein,
Weyl, and Eddington should be elaborated. The only way of de-
ciding between them will be by means of experimental tests ; but
at present no experimental test appears to be available to test the
theory of Weyl though it is not impossible that some deduction
might be made as to the shift of the lines in the spectrum of the
sun or perhaps as to the size of the universe. But in spite of the
fact that the views of these writers differ and there seems to be no
way of deciding between them at present, if we eliminate all the
parts of the theory about which there is not agreement, there is
still something of fundamental importance in their treatment of the
notion of Space. In the language of modern logic, they all alike
use " Space " as a description.1 Space in the theory of Relativity
is a constructed entity.

To say that space is a description involves many consequences.
No description can ever be used as a proper name. We see two
particular spots of colour and we say " This is darker than that ".
There is in some sense, a direct relation between the symbol " This "
and one of the spots of colour. Whatever this characteristic may
be in virtue of which "This" is in direct relation to the thing in
the External World to which it refers, it is absent in the case of
the symbol for space. There is nothing in the External World to
which we can point as being represented by the symbol. And this
property of the concept which makes it a description involves a
further consequence. Any proposition in which the term occurs is
not in its logically simplest terms. It can be analysed further.
And we may easily see that the analysis of such a proposition will
disclose some propositional function.

We may take a simple example to make our meaning plain.
Suppose we are contrasting the heights of two buildings. If instead
of saying with a wave of the hands "This is loftier than that " we
say " The building on my right is loftier than that," we are using a
description. For there is no direct relation between the symbol

1 The term " Description " is used in the sense explained by Whitehead
and Russell in Principia Maihematica, vol. i.

DOEOTHY WKINCH : ASPECTS OF THEORY OF RELATIVITY. 201

"The building on my right" and anything in the outside world.
The proposition can evidently be further analysed. We shall find
it necessary to make use of the prepositional function which may
be written indifferently f(xy) or xE>y.

f(xy) = x is to the right of y = xEy.

And the form of the proposition when it is further analysed is
perhaps; " There is something which is to the right of myself and
it is taller than that " ; or if we write it in the symbolism of modern
logic

g;# . xE,a . x is loftier than b
RX .f(x, a) .x is loftier than b.

Or take the case of the proposition ''Equiangular triangles are
equilateral," the proposition asserts that the two properties of hav-
ing equal sides and of having equal angles always occur together so
that neither triangles with equal sides and unequal angles nor
triangles with equal angles and unequal sides can exist. And we
may write this proposition

(x) .f(x) . 0 . g(x)

(in which/(#) means ' ' the triangle x has equal angles ' ' and g(x) means
" the triangle x has equal sides "), which may be read, " Whatever
triangle x may be, if it has equal angles it has equal sides ". Now
the characteristics of the symbol " The building on my right,"
which result from the descriptive nature of the concept are exactly
those involved in the treatment of space by the relativity writers.
A prepositional function is involved in the analysis of any proposi-
tion in which the term "space" occurs. And there is nothing
whatever in the real world which we are directly representing in
using the term. All propositions such as " Space is four-dimen-
sional " or " Space is curved " when analysed disclose prepositional
functions, and will always be of the form, " Whatever xv x2, x3,
. . . may be if /(x^x^ . . .) then g(xlx2xs . . .) ". Now scientific
developments fall into two classes. There is first the collecting
of simple facts which attribute a certain character or combination
of characters to individuals. These collections of facts together
with the apparatus of probability reasoning allow inductions and
generalisations to universal propositions which make assertions as
to the co-existence of characters. The problems for logic in this
domain are by no means easy, involving difficult questions of the
validity of probability inference and the study of the notion of
probability itself. But beyond the setting out of postulates obeyed
by the relation between the propositions p and q in the assertion,

"p, given data h, is more probable than the proposition q given
data k,"

the difficulties are for the most part in deciding what propositions
about the real world shall be adopted, and not in the working
out of the implications of specific propositions.

When we arrive at the second stage in scientific development,
the position is entirely different and the difficulty involved in dis-
covering implications of various propositions is often of a high

202 IDOEOTHY WEINCH:

order. The problem here is indeed to discover the relations be-
tween the various concepts defined by prepositional functions. And
it is in this domain that the wonderful mathematical technique of
the relativity writers has had such important results. The theory
involved in Eelativity is the relating of various hypotheses to one
another. The achievement consists in establishing relations be-
tween various properties which enable us to see that certain hypo-
theses about space entail certain facts in the external world.

But the older view of space which is directly contradicted by the
theory of relativity, appears plausible in one respect. It might
perhaps be argued that we have direct perception of space, that we
see at once that certain propositions are true, and that we in fact
use diagrams with success in very many subjects, including, for
example, biology, chemistry and physics. Now the significance of
geometrical representation as it is made use of in non-mathematical
problems has seldom been discussed and the fact that diagrams are
in use in almost all the sciences as well as in mathematics appears,
prima facie, to be related to the view that space is an entity which
we can directly perceive. But I think that it is possible to deny
this view of space and yet give a satisfactory explanation of the
facts of geometrical and diagrammatical representation of the ideas
of the various sciences.

During the last few decades there has been a complete revolution
of geometrical ideas. Without this revolution, there could never
have been a theory of relativity such as we have to-day. From being
a collection of propositions about a few particular properties,
Geometry has now developed into the science of Classification. As
Whitehead has pointed out in his valuable tracts on Geometries,1
the classification, by means of species and genera, of biological
entities into mutually exclusive and exhaustive classes is a geometry
equally with the classification of a finite number of balls into classes
in various ways or the familiar Euclidean geometry of our youth.

If we adopt the modern view of geometry as the science of classi-
fication, we can yet allow that diagrams are of use in science with-
out being involved in any contradiction. We may take a simple
example to make the matter clear. If we take any geometry, there
are in general a number of propositions which give the relation be-
tween properties which can easily be represented, as for example in
the proposition, " Whatever a, ft, y may be if a is included in ft
and ft is included in y then a is included in y ". We can represent
this by drawing a circle a inside another circle b, which is itself in-
side a third circle c. The relation of a, b and c on the paper gives
a representation of the relation between any particular a, ft and y.
But the proposition about any a, ft, y is not as it stands a geometrical
proposition. The complete statement of the proposition would
contain the postulates which determine the "behaviour" of the re-
lation of inclusion. Different systems might very well have different

1 Cambridge Tracts in Mathematics, Cambridge University Press.

METHODOLOGICAL ASPECTS OF THEORY OF RELATIVITY. 203

postulates ; but the effective results would uniformly be, " The
properties ^ <j>2 <£3 . . . carry with them the property i//". In our
telescoped proposition above, " If a is included in /? and fi in y then
a is included in y whatever a, /?, y may be," we have a proposition
to the effect that the properties — say fa </>2 . . . (by means of
which the relation of inclusion is denned) carry with them the
further property \l/ of being transitive.1 Now a different geometry
of inclusion might have defined the notion by means of a set of
properties </>x i//- . . . and then one proposition of the system would
have been to the effect that the properties <£x ^ . . . carry with
them the further property </>2. Geometry, indeed, consists in the
relating of properties inter se and is far removed from the fact that
a circle a which is included in another circle b is also included in
the circle c in which b lies. It is indeed as far removed from this
fact as a biological fact that a certain mammal is a vertebrate is
from the facts — whatever they may be — of the complete evolutionary
theory of the co-existence of characters.

Now in propositions about space we are talking about sets of
properties. By the name " mammal" we mean one set of pro-
perties, by the name " space " we mean a certain other specific set.
And we may find it convenient to talk about the " space properties "
of entities. The final scientific account of space will give proposi-
tions to the effect that some properties by means of which we de-
fine certain relations, necessarily entail certain other properties.
When propositions of this form are established, it is generally con-
venient to manufacture a name for the properties in question so
that propositions of this form would perhaps read, " space is curved "
or " isosceles triangles have two equal angles " or " mammals are
vertebrates ". The technical development of propositions of this
form has been dealt with by Russell and Whitehead in their
Principia Mathematica. Now in considering the theory of Relativity
I am concerned only with special sets of properties and the names
for them. But the way in which " space " is used merely as a
name for a bundle of properties is entirely parallel to the way in
which, for example, ''atoms "is merely a name fora bundle of
properties. The logical status of these names is the same in all
domains of scientific thought. The elementary stage in science
comprising the collection of particular facts is a necessary pre-
lude, but only a prelude to the more serious task of discovering
various properties and grouping together sets of them under
various names. Only in this stage are we concerned with space
and the inter-relations of the various properties which are involved.
It is, of course, of great importance that as many different forms of
the hypotheses used as possible should be set out (and such pro-
positions are, of course, again of the same form, and assert relations
between properties) for the greater the number of these forms the

1 A relation R is transitive when, if x has the relation R to y and y has
the relation R to 2, it follows that x has the relation R to z. Familiar
examples are such relations as "is greater than," " is a descendant of".

204 DOEOTHY WEINCH : ASPECTS OF THEOEY OF EELATIVITY.

greater the probability that suitable results will issue which can be
tested by a direct appeal to applied science.

On this view it is evident that to ask, " What is Space " is not
significant. We want to investigate what consequences can be de-
duced from the " space properties " of terms ; we want to establish
as many propositions as possible about the further properties which
necessarily belong to any term possessing this set of properties.
We want to trace the various alternative sets of space properties
which are logically possible and to see how far results which are
verifiable can be obtained. It will be very advantageous if pro-
positions are discovered which make it possible to apply tests to
decide between alternative theories. It will be of great importance,
for example, if the further development of Weyl's theory yields
some deduction as to the shift of the lines in the spectrum of the
sun which would enable us to make a decision between it and other
theories which yield other results as to the shift of the lines. But
whichever part of the general investigation is being undertaken,
not in the case of any one of them is it significant to ask, " What is
Space ". It is the properties and not the intrinsic nature of space
which is the subject of investigation.

DOROTHY WBINCH.

EINSTEIN AND IDEALISM.

AT a recent meeting of the Aristotelian Society, where Lord Hal-
dane presided over a discussion on the Idealistic interpretation of
Einstein's theory, Prof. Carr tried to show how his monadistic
doctrine is the sole basis of the Theory of Eelativity. Undoubtedly,
Prof. Carr has opened a new and suggestive track to metaphysical
speculation by means of the new physics ; and one must admit that
both the exposition and the defence of his thesis have been to his
credit, although he was accepting too easily realistic arguments.

But I question very much whether the brilliant foliage of
Einstein's theory has not hidden its very roots from the perspicacious
eye of Prof. Carr, who gives too much weight to mere analogies.
At the International Congress of Philosophy, held at Oxford in
September, 1920, I maintained, as against the crude subjectivism
of Prof. Eddington and the extreme absolutism of Dr. Boss, that
the Theory of Eelativity cannot be taken as a crucial system to de-
cide between idealism and realism. This view is generally shared
by scientists, who cannot profess a great sympathy for the doctrines
of those philosophers who endeavour to drive science on to a cer-
tain ground which is not its own. I now go further, and hold that
the Theory of Eelativity is rather a thing prejudicial to idealism,
at least as Prof. Carr proposes it.

I fail to see how the essence of the General Principle of Eela-
tivity is to introduce in the realm of physics, the very bane of the
physicist, subjectivism. Prof. Carr thinks too much of Einstein's
observers, when he says that Eelativity shows that it is impossible
to abstract from the mind of the observer and treat his observations
as themselves absolute and independent in their objectivity. When
Einstein speaks of observers, he does not mean at all particular
active minds, as philosophy studies them, but mere beings belong-
ing to different systems of reference moving relatively to one
another. In other words, what makes the difference in the space
and the time of two observers belonging to two different systems of
reference moving relatively to one another, is not the particular
mind of each observer, as Prof. Carr seems to think, but the very
motion of their systems of reference, the mere fact that they are
moving relatively to one another. I do not see any subjectivism
here ; on the contrary, it is an objective cause, i.e. motion, which
makes all the difference in the formulation of the observations of
the two observers. And this is so much true that, in the limiting
case when the two observers belong to the same system of refer-
ence, their expressions of the same phenomenon, with all the

206 THOMAS GBEENWOOD:

unfathomable difference of their minds, are identical. For them,,
space and time can be taken as two absolutes ; time flows evenly
for both of them ; coincidence in space and simultaneity are con-
tinual experiences for them ; their world-lines are Euclidian. The
philosophical import of this limiting case has been overlooked, be-
cause its implications do not clash with the old physics. But in
fact, it challenges idealism to explain how the laws of nature can
be looked at in the same way by many observers having each, of
course, his own particular mind, and belonging to the same system
of reference.

It is not true, then, to say that the work of physical science is to
co-ordinate the observations of observers, each of whom uses his
own co-ordinates, and for whom there is no common measure.
The object of physics is rather to present natural phenomena in such
a way as to be understood by every particular mind. When Prof.
Carr says then that there is no universe common to all observers
and private to none, he seems to harbour at the back of his head
the old Newtonian ideas of an absolute space and an absolute time.
We have been accustomed, through heredity, to express our ideas
with reference to an absolute space and an absolute time; and
it is difficult to think with reference to a spatio-temporal uni-
verse, taken as an absolute whole. But that is what Relativity
asks us to do when dealing with physical science. If each system
of reference has its own space and its own time, the space-time
considered as a whole, the absolute Universe, is a reality common
to all observers, whatever be the relative motion of their system of
reference. The enunciation itself of Einstein's General Principle
of Eelativity reflects that absolute reality, independent of the mind
and even of the motion of the observers, absolute in its objectivity
although relative in its expressions by various observers. "The
laws of nature," says the principle, " remain unaltered whatever be
the motion of the observers." What is the very implication of this
principle? It means that there is an objective invariant, the
reality of which does not depend on the mind, although its expres-
sion is affected by the motion of the observers, not the subjective
activity of their minds. In fact, a natural phenomenon can be ex-
pressed by the same mind, either according to what Prof. Carr
would call the frame of reference of the observer possessing that
mind, or according to an infinity of frames of reference belonging
to different observers. All these expressions, by means of an in-
definite choice of systems of reference, of the same phenomenon
by the same mind, give a strong support to realism against a subjec-
tive interpretation of the Principle of Eelativity.

As a matter of fact, idealistic philosophy and science follow two
ways diametrically opposed to each other. To illustrate this state-
ment let us call " sensible reality " the world of our direct perception.
Now, idealism sacrifices the second term to the first : what was a
sensible reality still remains sensible, but it is not any more a
reality, for it cannot be detached from consciousness. Idealism

I

EINSTEIN AND IDEALISM. 207

insists then on the dissociation of perception in favour of pure
sensation ; and our knowledge is confined to the immediate data of
consciousness. On the contrary, science, in its development, falls
upon the first term, and progressively its concepts digress more and
more from sensation, they become less and less sensible, while
their reality is reinforced. Beality cannot become intelligible, it
cannot become the object of science unless it is stripped of all its
sensible qualities. To constitute itself, science has to destroy the
singular, which is the only reality, and create the universal, sub-
stituting thereby for sensible reality a world of concepts. This seems
to lead to idealism ; but we must remember that if science is an
interpretation of reality, such an interpretation presupposes two
terms : mind and nature, independent the one of the other.
Now, if the mind is annihilated, science would undoubtedly dis-
appear ; but reality will still be there, although mutilated, it will
still exist. Nature will continue its performance ; the spectators
only will be missing.

THOMAS GREENWOOD.

VI.— NEW BOOKS.

A History of English Philosophy. By W. R. SOELEY. Cambridge Uni-
versity Press, 1920. Pp. xvi, 380.

Philosophers have often received rather ungenerous treatment from the
professed historians of our literature. If it is not the case with us, as it is
with some peoples, that our philosophers have been the greatest masters of
prose style in the language, as Plato was incomparably the greatest of
Greek prose writers, Cicero (when quantity as well as quality is taken into
account) of the Latins, Descartes, Pascal, Malebranche among the greatest
of the French, it is, at any rate, true that several of our philosophers,
Bacon, Hobbes, Berkeley, Hume — to mention no other names — are at least
among the greater luminaries, and that no one who is ignorant of their
writings can be said to have a really workmanlike knowledge of what may
be done with our language. Yet the professed historians of English
Prose too commonly pass over such men and their works as something
" specialist," and send the student for his information to text-books written
in the interests of a philosophical theory, where the philosophers as part
of the inheritance of a nation with a great literature are hardly appraised
at their full merits. All the more welcome is a book like this of Prof.
Sorley's, developed from chapters contributed to the Cambridge History of
English Literature, in which the philosophers receive their due share of
attention as great writers and powerful influences on the whole mental out-
look of their respective generations, and are not degraded to the purpose
of "pointing the moral" that one will come to confusion if one does not
accept a particular -ism, Benthamism, Comtism, neo- Kantianism or what
not. Prof. Sorley treats his authors in the right spirit, allowing them to
tell their own tale and develop their own theories, without attempting to
make them say what they ought to say if the reader is to be directed into
the right u ism " and warned off the wrong. He is full to the right degree
and no further about the big men, and not too full about the small ones.
~&e writes,, as he always does, gracefully and limpidly, and there is probably
no other work from which the general student of good intelligence can
learn so readily exactly what our philosophers have done to shape the
general course of the stream of "British thought " and to create its vehicle
of expression. As far as I can judge, the exposition is admirably full ;
hardly anyone within the limits marked out by the author, i.e., down to
the end of Queen Victoria's reign, is passed over. I have barely noticed
for myself that perhaps Aldrich deserves — from the long vogue of his Artis
Rudimenta Logicae at Oxford, — something more than a mere incidental
reference as an author re-edited by Mansel, and that, in my own judgment,
three most eminent men of the nineteenth century, John Grote, Boole and
De Morgan, are treated to less than due measure of appreciation. John
Grote, though Cambridge seems largely to have forgotten him, deserves
remembrance, to my mind, as the most incisive critic of J. S. Mill's "con-
verted " Utilitarianism, and not less as perhaps the most searching of all the

NEW BOOKS. 209

critics of the scientific Positivism of the palmy days of Huxley, Tyndall
and Clifford. The enormous influence of both Boole and De Morgan on
modern logic and modern views of the mathematical sciences is the more
patent the more one tries to follow the subsequent developments. I
should have said that both were incomparably greater figures, and De
Morgan an incomparably racier writer, than that now rather discredited
colossus, Sir William Hamilton the less (I am not thinking, of course,
of his greater namesake of Dublin).

If I may venture one or two other remarks, I hope they will not be
taken as in any way detracting from my appreciation of an admirably
full, admirably balanced and admirably written book.

The opening chapter, with its brief condensation of the whole mediseval
period into a few pages, strikes me as perfunctory and possibly done
mainly at second-hand. There would be a great deal to say for excluding
scholastics, who did not write in our language at all, from the story
altogether, but, if they are to find a place in it, I cannot think that given
to Duns Scotus or Ockham really adequate to their historical importance,
especially if it is true, as is sometimes maintained, that the great revolt of
the theological reformers from the traditions of the golden age of scho-
lasticism was largely due to the disintegration of scholastic doctrine pro-
duced by the influence of Ockham. I note (see p. 92) that Henry More's
argument which establishes the necessity of God's existence by first prov-
ing its possibility is described in a way which suggests that the writer did
not know that it is fully anticipated in the Scriptum Oxoniense of Scotus
(as I should suppose More knew) ; it might have been added that Leibniz
also proposed to complete the " ontological " argument of Descartes on
the same lines. The extreme exaltation of Roger Bacon at the cost of his
century in general also seems to me to indicate some want of first-hand
acquaintance with the literature. I cannot myself conceive a competent
judga with real knowledge of the works of both men seriously thinking
Brother Roger the philosophical equal of the Angelic Doctor.

In the account of the early seventeenth century, perhaps something
might be said more than has been said about the influence of Ramus on our
literature. It is worth recording, e.g., that the ill-fated James Sharp, not,
of course, yet a bishop, was lecturing on the Dialectic of Ramus at St.
Andrews in the years 1641-43. Perhaps, in connexion with page 11, 1 might
suggest that Temple, Ramus's English follower, selected the pseudonym
Mildapettus as a kind of anagram on Temple. At page 18, I should have
liked to see a reference to De Morgan's penetrating and forcible rejoinder
(in the Budget of Paradoxes), to Macaulay's vulgar and ignorant glorification
of the " Baconian method ". I doubt if there is a saner and better expressed
discussion of Bacon's proposed method of making discovery mechanical, in
our own or in any language. On page 56, in connexion with Hobbes's feats
of circle-squaring and cube-duplication, it would have been worth while to
study these things in Hobbes's own writings. The interesting point is
that though Hobbes's constructions are always fallacious and arbitrary, he
had hold of a real point in his denunciation of Wallis's Arithmetica In-
Jinitorum. The development of the nascent Calculus was only possible by
sitting loose for a time to logical exactness, and imagining infinitesimals
which are at once nothing and something. Hobbes's objection to the
infinitesimal was, in fact, logically sound ; thanks to Weierstrass and his
followers, the Calculus can now be taught without any reference to this
stumbling-block. There is so much sheer confusion and wrong-headed
obstinacy^in Hobbes's repeated attempts to prove such propositions as
TT = \/10, that he should, in justice, have the credit of having hit one
real logical blot. With reference to page 90, it might be remarked that

14

210 NEW BOOKS.

Cudworth's "Moschus the Phoenician " should be Mochus ; it was
Posidonius who brought this imaginary person into the history of
philosophy ; the confusion with Moses seems to be due to some genius of
the early Italian Renaissance.

In what is said of later writers of importance I have little to comment
on but three points. I think the common complaint about Butler (see p.
164) that he has not worked out a theory of the relation of conscience to
reason and will is a little unreasonable. Butler's work was not that of the
constructor of an ethical theory; he was by profession a preacher of
righteousness. His audience in the Rolls Chapel would not have denied
that they had consciences, i.e., were aware of a body of moral obligations,
and they would have been in fair agreement, being educated Londoners of
the end of George L's reign, about the details of these obligations. What
they denied was that they saw adequate reason to regulate their lives ac-
cordingly. Hence Butler seems to have been quite justified in concentrating
attention on the one issue which was really important for his purposes, the
" authoritativeness " of conscience, and treating all more speculative pro-
blems as irrelevant. With regard to Hume, I feel even in reading Prof.
Sorley's very balanced statement of his position that I am not sure that it
is balanced enough. Hume's Treatise, as I read it, certainly never teaches
a sensationalist theory of knowledge, or resolves causality and personality
into illusions. As I understand Hume, he argues that on the one side,
Cartesianism is an impossible doctrine, on the other sensationalism, seriously
thought out, makes physical and moral science impossible by the very fact
that it has to treat these notions as illusions. Neither of these ways in
philosophy is possible, and we know of no third. Hence we are committed
to scepticism in the proper sense of the word, eVo;^, "refusal to affirm "
either of the only two philosophies with which Hume is acquainted.
Hume's own literary vanity which led him to republish " elegant extracts "
from the unappreciated Treatise and to disown the rest of it, is chiefly
responsible for what seems to me the grave injustice commonly done to
his philosophic penetration, but I cannot but feel that it is an injustice
after all. And with respect to the Dialogues on Natural Religion I
should go further than Prof. Sorley. I think Hume openly and re-
peatedly treats Philo with a dramatic irony which should prove, unless
Hume was wholly ignorant of the principles of dialogue-composition, that
he, at least, does not represent his creator's convictions. And, as we
know, Hume protested in his letters against the supposition that Philo
was meant to convey his own mind. Finally, with reference to page 198,
should it not have been noticed that Price does more than dwell on the
same ideas as Cudworth ? Whole paragraphs of Price's Review might
fairly be said to be Cudworth's Eternal and Immutable Morality trans-
lated from pedantic jargon into readable English.

A. E. TAYLOR.

Education and World Citizenship. An Essay towards a Science of Educa-
tion. By JAMES C. MAXWELL GARNETT. Cambridge University
Press, 1921. Pp. x + 515. 32s. net.

This volume is divided into three books, of which the first is brief and in-
troductory. Book H. contains an attempt to state the aim of education in
terms of brain physiology and Book III. describes a suggested system of
education for this country.

NEW BOOKS. 211

In his first chapter Mr. Garnett utters a useful warning about the
danger of metaphor in discussions on education. As he points out many
obscurities of thought (and he might have added much futility in practice)
have resulted from the vague use of the "broad foundations" metaphor.
Unhappily the metaphor has not even been followed to its logical issue,
the "foundations " being so often left without any useful building erected
upon them.

Mr. Garnett, however, is not content with the abolition of metaphor.
" For accurate and easy thinking about education it is necessary to select
the facts about which to think and, above all, to choose facts which are
simple, even if imaginary, like the line which represents the direction of a
hedge. Thus, in formulating principles of education, we shall for the
most part focus our attention upon the comparatively simple material
aspects of the brain, rather than upon the mind or soul, of the person
being educated. This procedure implies no low material view of education.
It does not suggest that education is concerned with the central nervous
system rather than with the soul, although it recognises that the soul can
only be reached by human educators through the brain of the pupil. Nor
does it assume that we know more of the brain than we do of the soul :
the contrary is more probably the case. But, as Huxley pointed out,
' there can be little doubt that the further science advances, the more ex-
tensively and consistently will all the phenomena of Nature be represented
by materialistic formulae and symbols '. Bergson states the same truth
more fully. 'The intellect,' he writes, 'is characterised by a natural
inability to comprehend life.' " Accordingly, Mr. Garnett sets forth the
generally recognised facts as to nervous arcs and their connexions, makes
the assumption of psycho-physical interaction while holding also that all
mental phenomena are accompanied by physiological phenomena, and
taking further several hypotheses of McDougall and Morton Prince as to
the interconnexion and interaction of neurones and their synapses, and
as to the drainage of nervous energy, he works these with great ingenuity
and patience into an elaborate system according to which, he holds, there
take place the physiological processes correlated with mental processes.

It is well to keep clearly in mind, however, what Mr. Maxwell himself
admits, that at present we know more of the mind processes than of the
brain processes. Apart from certain well recognised features of nervous,
arcs and their functions, the physiology of the brain processes corresponding
to higher mental processes, is based largely upon hypotheses framed in the
light of known psychological facts, and is checked by reference to them.
Consequently, interesting and suggestive to the psychologist as may be the
working out of hypotheses as to the working of brain processes, it does not
seem to afford us any surer basis for educational theory than psychology,
if this be made as exact as possible. If the intellect cannot formulate
such because of " its natural inability to comprehend life " then it cannot
check the truth of the physiological hypotheses by their correspondence
with mental processes, and Mr. Garnett's method seems to fall to the
ground.

In the course of Book II. Mr. Garnett formulates five " laws of thought ".
They are as follows : —

I. To every psychosis there corresponds a neurosis.

II. The Law of Diffusion : excitement in any nervous arc tends to
spread to every other arc that is connected with the first, through synapses
the insulation of which the excitement in question is intense enough to
overcome.

III. The Law of Inhibition by Drainage : any nervous arc of the higher
level, if intensely excited relatively to other higher level arcs, tends to
drain the impulses from those other arcs.

212 NEW BOOKS.

IV. Will, measured by the general factor (g), can reinforce the excite-
ment in any excited system of higher level arcs.

V. Action is the normal end of every train of thought.

Now even from the point of view of brain physiology there seem to me
to be grave difficulties about some of these laws. To Law I. Mr. Garnett
himself seems to make the primary activity of the will an exception. Laws
II. and III. — diffusion and drainage — seem to be inconsistent with one
another ; diffusion away from an excited system or neurograrn is just the
opposite to drainage towards that system. The higher excitement of one
neurogram draws excitement from others but apparently it also spreads
to others.

Following McDougall and Prince Mr. Garnett regards the appearance
of volition as introducing a purely psychic influence. It cannot initiate
a process but it can "reinforce excitement". The will is supposed to
select a neurogram and reinforce its excitement, using for the purpose
energy from (i) the physical accompaniments of attention (e.g., eye-move-
ments, frowning, etc.) ; (2) organic sensations resulting from the stimu-
lation of adrenal glands, and (3) associated interest systems.

The soul " only intervenes in this way in the event of conflict between
involuntary processes ". This relative isolation of the " will," almost as if
it were a function independent of individual purposes and interest, seems
to me a weak point in Mr. Garnett's system and in his otherwise valuable
discussion of general ability.

A man's character, says Mr. Garnett, is determined by (i) his neuro-
graphy (i.e., the structure and inter-relations of his neurograms), and (2)
the strength of his will (p. 292). But why not by the direction of his will,
by the type of activity which the will chooses to excite further ? For this,
according to Mr. Garnett's view, is not determined by the neurography
itself.

The ideal citizen possesses a ' single wide interest ' supported by a strong
will. For the community to be ideally harmonious and efficient the inter-
ests of the various citizens must be harmonious, having their basis in re-
ligion. "A neurogram of God" should constantly form the central
element of the single wide interest system. By extending this line of
thought it is inferred that since no society can be as progressive as possible
if its freedom to fulfil its common purpose is liable to interference from
rival societies outside it, a " maximally progressive society " is one that
includes the whole human race. Hence follows the necessity of making
the aim of education preparation for World Citizenship.

My general impression is that this book on physiological psychology
leaves us with no more certain, but rather a less certain, basis for educa-
tional theory than does a purely psychological basis (with of course the ad-
dition of ethical ideals) ; that Mr. Garnett's scheme of the interaction of
neurograms is less exact and more vulnerable even than a psychology that
still uses the vaguer terms of mental life, after an attempt to define them
clearly.

Mr. Garnett indeed is constantly impelled to fall back on some of these
terms himself , especially, for example, the word "interest" ; and when he
comes to direct psychological discussion he is sometimes far from happy.
" No one," he writes (p. 63), "ever took an interest in any object about
which he had not a goodly number of ideas " — an intellectualist view of
interest which would forbid the use of the term in describing the fascinated
interest of an infant or of a young animal in a novel object. Again Mr.
Garnett speaks of " the images which go to make up a percept," and refers
to the "thought-activity in the focus " gaming its meaning from thought
activities on the fringe of consciousness, as though "meaning" were not
normally or at least frequently focal.

NEW BOOKS. 213

The fact, however, that this elaborate physiological discussion does not
give us any new psychological law does not of course mean that an attempt
to state the probable physiological correlation of mental processes is use-
less. Far from it. It may be extremely suggestive, as is Mr. Garnett's
statement in many parts. Further, the possible modus operandi of such
physiological correlations can sometimes be more readily understood by the
student than that of the mental processes concerned, and thus may be
helpful even when the fact of the particular mental process taking place is
beyond doubt. The type of discussion in Part II. of the book seems to me,
however, to be more suitable as a study for the student of psychology than
as an introduction to the treatment of Education in Part III.

Indeed the third part of this volume, in which Mr. Garnett outlines an
excellent scheme for a natural system of education, can stand fairly well
apart from the physiological foundations in Patt II. The weak points
usually owe their weakness to Mr. Garnett's faithfulness to his physiologi-
cal arguments, instead of to common sense or generally accepted psycho-
logical doctrines, as for example when, in his advocacy of a single wide
interest, he is led to assert that " the value of any given expenditure of
effort, whether by teacher or taught or by both, decreases rapidly with
the number of separate subjects upon which that effort was expended.
We even proposed a formula for ideally simple cases, and said that, in
such cases, the educational value of the study of a new department of
knowledge was proportional to the square of the time during which the
study was continued, and inversely proportional to the number of separate
subjects into which that branch of knowledge was sub-divided."

Though Mr. Garnett seems to me to under-estimate the value of inde-
pendent interests, his plea for a greater unification of educational studies
is a useful one, and equally welcome is his protest against the absurdity,
so patent in our secondary school system, of giving boys who are to leave
school at fifteen or sixteen the same courses even during their last year or
two, as those given to boys who are to remain till eighteen or even to go
to a University till twenty-one or twenty- two.

C. W. VALENTINE.

The Psychology of Day-dreams. By J. VARENDONCK, with an Intro-
duction by Prof. S. FREUD. London : Allen & Unwin, 1921. Pp. 367.
18s.

Dreams have been the subject of a steady stream of publications, good
and bad — there appear to be few indifferent ones — since Prof. Freud offered
his Traumdeutung to a world at first indifferent and now perhaps a little
too exuberant in its efforts to atone for the early lack of welcome. Nearly
all these essays, following their prototype, treat of the dreams which occur
during sleep, though many of their writers must often have been tempted
to investigate the day-dream. That this latter may be the product of
mechanisms similar to those which fashion the sleep-dream is quite con-
ceivable ; are not Christina's musings in The Way of all Flesh delightful
examples of more than one of Freud's contentions ? Freud himself, however,
appears to have done little more than to indicate the probable fruitfulness
of this adjacent field to anyone who will take the trouble to cultivate it.

At last a beginning in this direction has been made ; ?ome preliminary
furrows have been cut by Dr. J. Varendonck, formerly a lecturer in the
Paedological Faculty of Brussels. That he has had an extensive preliminary
acquaintance with some of the results of day-dreams, in a related field of
psychology, is attested by the titles of two of his published books ; La

'214 NEW BOOKS.

Psychologic du Te'moignage and Experimenteele Bydrage tot de psychologie
van het getuigenis.

He gives a proof of his versatility by writing the present book in English.
In its preface, apologising for his "linguistic shortcomings," he explains
that he has chosen our language because he wishes to reach English readers
directly, "as being, of all nations, those who show the greatest interest in
psycho-analysis ". Dr. Varendonck therefore needs no assurance that
readers will not be lacking who, appreciating this tribute, will examine his
book with sympathy. And as by this graceful action he has become one of
ourselves, he will surely not misinterpret the spirit in which, in this
review, criticism is directed upon its immediate value to English readers.
Not a few of these, with the best will in the world, and the greatest
reluctance even to glance towards the mouth of a gift-horse, will find
themselves compelled to question the wisdom of the author's choice of
language. For there is no disguising the fact that Dr. Varendonck 's book
is uncommonly hard to read. By this time one has come to regard the
process of reading almost any new book on psychology as inseparable from
the learning of new meanings for old words, but Dr. Varendonck's
terminology is at times bewildering. In the first place, it is difficult to
discover the principle underlying his choice of terms. Occasionally he
seems to borrow from Wundt, as on page 218. On the next page appears
one of the too rare attempts " to state clearly the precise sense " in which
"the technical terms of psychology " are used. Yet the first term in the
list which follows is sensation, which "we understand to be the psycho-
logical phenomenon (of an affective or representative nature) resulting
immediately from an impression made upon the senses". Not every
psychologist in this country understands sensation in that way. Some-
times Freud's own methods of expression are employed. Of this it must
be said that the reader who finds Freud's terms baffling, even in their
original German, will have no easier time with them when, travel-worn
and a little battered by their journey to the English language via America,
they eventually arrive bearing the meaning with which they have been
imbued by a Belgian writer. Prof. Freud's introduction to the book may
be cited as evidence that this criticism is not unfair, for in it he describes
as "misleading and unsatisfactory" the author's use of the designation
4 fore-conscious thinking '. Not a few times, however, as in the faltering
uses of the terms hallucination, hallucinatory, illusion, delusion J — terms
the significance of which seems by now to have become constant in English
psychology — Dr. Yarendonck does not appear to have made up his mind
as to which meaning he is prepared to attach to the words employed by him.
That these points have been insisted upon at some length, however un-
gracious such an action may seem, may perhaps be offset by the obvious
fact that so much space would not have been given to them if the book
had been deemed less important. Though the fascinating glimpses of a
new psychological landscape which it gives can at present be obtained only
by tiptoeing and craning the neck to look over the intervening palisading
of its language, the attempt, for the person who already knows some of the
literature of psycho-analysis, is well worth making.

The chief matter of the book is divided into two parts, analytical and
synthetical. In the first part the author explains how he hit upon a
possible explanation of the fact — as he puts it — that he "seemed to be
cleverer in bed than out of it"; that original ideas came to him just
before sleep. On reading Freud's comparison of the psychic apparatus
with a compound optical instrument, the constituent parts of which
Freud calls 'systems,' Dr. Varendonck asked himself "Would not

1 Cf. pp. 109, 110, 134, 146, 183.

I

NEW BOOKS. 215

these systems provide the explanation of the abundant fore-conscious
ideation in the waking state " ?

As a result, he developed a technique of observing, recording and
analysing these day-dreams. He retraces, step by step, all the ideas
which have succeeded one another in his fore-consciousness. Starting from
the last link, which he writes down at once, he tries to recover the last
but one, and so on, "with the least possible attention and the greatest
possible abandonment," "till at a certain moment all the previous links of
the concatenation come together ".

The first part of the book is full of such records. There is no space in
this review to discuss their technique, though much might be written
upon this subject. One question however which is sure to be asked, does
not seem to have been adequately answered in advance by Dr. Varendonck.
To what extent, one may enquire, did his own theories and his natural
predilection for them, affect not only the manner but also the matter of
his day-dreams? Such a question has been asked often enough of the
recorders of sleep-dreams, and in the reviewer's opinion at least, has never
been fully answered. In spite of this even the most ardent theorist
among dream-investigators is likely to reply that though he undoubtedly
finds many instances in which his theoretical interests form the stuff of
his dreams, he fiuds many more concerned with themes of a less lofty
nature. But, a priori, it seems likely that traces of the "pale cast of
thought" will be more evident in the day-dream than in the sleep-dream.
The one recorded on page 115 even ends thus : —

" Immediately I say to myself : ' What a beautiful construction. I am
going to write it down at once, for it contains a magnificent illustration of
the successive risings to the surface and the sinkings into the unconscious.
It entirely corroborates my theory as I have dimly constructed it.' "

From these studies, the author concludes that "the method of fore-
conscious thinking " is one of concatenated hypotheses and refutations, of
questions and answers, "which," he observes, " is still the most popular
manner of bringing fresh knowledge to the simple-minded ". As an
example of this method he cites, among others, the Roman Catholic
catechism : he might suitably have mentioned here an existing catechism
in English which deals with psycho-analysis itself.

It is important to mention that Dr. Varendonck's own thinking takes
place chiefly in words. If he had not told us in several other places that
he is not a well-marked example of the ' visile ' type, his footnote to page 90
would have convinced us : —

"I have even noticed of late that when I happen to read poetry now I
am able voluntarily to transform the poet's words into visual images, which
adds a hitherto unknown charm to the reading."

He praise worthily sets an example to some of his contemporaries by keep-
ing in mind the fact that his own way of thinking may not be that em-
ployed by everyone else, though unfortunately in this book he does not
carry very far the comparison of his day-dreams with those of visualisers.
There seems to be no reason why the ' question and answer method ' should
not employ visual terms.

Continuing his description of the contents of the chains of fore-conscious
thought by an account of the way in which they terminate, he suggests that
"distraction is directly the opposite of inspiration, for in the latter opera-
tion the streams of thought (conscious and fore-conscious) flow towards the
same end while in the former they diverge ". This topic of inspiration is
very dear to him, for dotted here and there throughout the book there are
brief, almost breathless, little first-hand descriptions of this experience, and
speculations concerning its nature. He does not forget to record, too, the
insomnia which is often part of the price paid for it.

216 NEW BOOKS.

On page 179 he summarises his view of the day-dream : —

" 1. A fore-conscious chain of thoughts is a succession of hypotheses and
rejoinders, of questions and answers, occasionally interrupted by memory
hallucinations.

" 2. These suppositions and criticisms look like a mental testing of
memory elements adapted to meet a future situation.

"3. The associative process is directed by one or several wishes, and
is the more unsteady as the directive wishes are weaker.

"4. Every chain originates with a remembrance that is, as a rule,
emotionally accentuated and which is either brought forward on the
occasion of an external stimulus or simply obtrudes itself upon our fore-
conscious attention.

" 5. As the chains progress their depth varies continually ; visualisation
is predominant when they proceed closest to the unconscious level ; in tlie
reverse case verbal thoughts prevail ; but when the ideation proceeds in
images, the relations between the visual representations are kept in mind
without being represented, and only words can render them adequately
when we decide to communicate these phantasies, which are not meant for
commun ication.

"6. They move only in a forward direction, which renders the later
correction of their constitutive parts impossible except through the
intervention of conscious functions. Another cause of errors is the mind's
unlimited capacity for forgetting as well as for remembering.

" 7. These streams of thought are brought to an end (before or after their
aim has been reached) at a moment of mental passivity under the
influence of some affect which causes them to rise to the surface, or because
memory is set in action in the service of apperception, following upon
external stimuli.

"In both cases the result is a return to the conscious state."

The second or synthetical part of the book deals with more general and
theoretical matters. In it the relations between the * affect' and memory,
apperception and ideation are discussed in detail. In the first chapter
several interesting features of a writer's everyday life are examined, e.g.,
the necessity of working when one is 'in the mood'. In this part of the
book distinctions are rapidly drawn between wish and will, intuition and
repression, affective and conscious thinking, and some of them seem to be
at times more puzzling than helpful. ' ' The history of mental evolution
teaches us that consciousness is mainly the result of the successive repression
of our affects " is a sentence which, in or out of its context, still tantalises
the reviewer.

In a psychological treatment of insomnia Dr. Varendonck suggests the
possibility of five varieties of psychically determined sleeplessness, and,
maybe, penetrates a little deeper into a mystery the further investigation
of which should yield very useful results. This vein into which he mines
just a little farther than his predecessors is one which it is hoped he will
not abandon ; for not only has the advancement of science so far done
comparatively little to strengthen the doctor's hands in dealing rationally
with insomnia, but the recent improvements which have come about have
been almost entirely due to increased knowledge of psychological methods
of treatment.

It is impossible to characterise this book in a few sentences. A critical
attitude towards the works of Prof. Freud and Dr. Jung would enhance its
value. The ' wish theory ' of night-dreams seems never to be questioned —
the countless terror-dreams of the war notwithstanding — though the book
is published in 1921. Jung's views, as expressed in his Psychology of the
Unconscious, are mentioned (p. 303) with no hint that any alternative or
supplementary conceptions have been considered. The author's opinion

NEW BOOKS. 217

(p. 26) that "in the matter of research it is best to go one's own way" is
one with which many people sympathise, yet the wisdom of extending this
doctrine to the process of subsequent publication is questionable.

The reviewer hopes to see at an early date, a new edition, with many
alterations. He would like too, to read an edition in French. One
reason for this would be the interest of watching Dr. Varendonck's mind
at work with another, and perhaps, for him, a more plastic, medium of
expression.

T. H. PEAR.

Moral Theory : An Introduction to Ethics. By G. C. FIELD. London :

Methuen & Co., 1921. Pp. x, 214.

Common-Sense Ethics. By C. E. M. JOAD. London: Methuen & Co.,
1921. Pp. xvi, 207.

These two books, coming from the same publishers at ' popular prices ' and
almost at the same hour, seem to invite comparison at least in their
accidents. They are sharply contrasted, however, in taste, spirit, and
temper. Mr. Field, scholarly and patient, goes to the great moralists of
the past, and tries, through them, to make his readers ask and understand
what the reason for being moral truly is. Mr. Joad, pertinaciously new-
fangled, relies upon what he calls ' verve'. Nine-tenths, at least, of
Mr. Field's book, is a connected argument, unusually closely woven.
Mr. Joad prefers 'impressionistic methods and provisional generalisa-
tions'. Indeed, like the new American novelists, he is often willing to
let the titles of his paragraphs, in leaded type, do the work of connecting
his story. And so of other points.

The plan of Mr. Field's book is simple and effective. In the first part,
he tries to show his readers how Kant conceived the reason for well-doing ;
in the second he examines how Aristotle conceived it ; and he pursues the
quest towards a tenable theory in the third part. Mr. Joad's plan, if
similar in a way, is only superficially so. He begins, it is true, with an
account of traditional theories, but this, he tells us, is only a ' game ' and
the reader may skip it if he wants to, since the empirical or common-sense
ethics about which Mr. Joad is really in earnest is essentially a revolt
against tradition and its fusty shibboleths. Indeed he believes that the
roots of it are planted in the irrationality of the universe.

Mr. Field is not a Kantian, but his exposition of the Fundamental
Principles, besides being lucid, careful and explanatory, has the signal
merit of trying to make the reader see that Kant really was discussing
fundamental points in our conceptions of right and wrong. Moreover, our
author indicates the respects in which the stock objections to Kantianism
are matters of the letter rather than of the spirit. He believes, however,
that Kant and many others based their theories on a fundamental fallacy,
and the unmasking of^bhis fallacy, together with the constructive cor-
rection of it, is the cardinal contention of his book.

This lethal, devastating fallacy is the psychological assumption that
reason can be practical, and I must frankly confess that Mr. Field does
not convince me at all. No doubt if reason is defined as the discovery of
mere means and of connexions of fact, then values and ends are excluded
from its jurisdiction by definition, but in that case the definition seems
wholly arbitrary. Why should the values of ends be outside the province
of reason, and why should knowledge of this kind be impotent ? In
effect, Mr. Field relies on the intuition that knowledge cannot move, and
he is so obsessed by this idea that he actually identifies a 'motive to

•218 NEW BOOKS.

action' and a 'reason for action' entirely sans phrase (e.g., on p. 56).
This seems to me a glaring oversight. I can think of no reason for action
except the knowledge of worth, but I can think of many motives to action
or causes of it which are not reasons at all. And I cannot see why these
moral reasons should not affect our actions. "It is not mere knowledge
that moves us to action at all," Mr. Field tells us, " if the criminal did not
mind being hanged, if I am absolutely indifferent whether I get well or
not, then this knowledge would have no effect on our action one way or
another ". Soit : but if the criminal had not the faintest idea whether any
of his actions had the remotest connexion with his being hanged, his
feelings would have no effect on his action one way or another, and if
knowledge does have an effect on action, why should not knowledge of
worth have its effect ?

Mr. Field deals much more tenderly with Aristotle than with Kant,
and this is natural seeing that he believes that ' purpose is a far more
fruitful conception than obligation '. But certainly he is thorough. He
who snorted like a charger at the notion of anything being good in itself
purrs like a contented kitten at the notion of ends which are sought
entirely tor their own sakes. But enough of that. Throughout his dis-
cussion Mr. Field is bent upon giving us a modified Aristotelianism, and
the constructive argumenfrwith which he supplements his excellent and
.sympathetic exposition of the Stagirite, is interesting and often valuable.
Perhaps, even, he makes the best of his case. Some of his readers, I
venture to think, will find it desperately hard to believe that the only
reason for being moral, or even decent, is the fact that every human being,
whatever he may happen to think, ' really ' desires the * ideal,' and some,
I fear, will forget this theoretical framework of heaven (which is not in
the future) and remember only that love and affection (if possible, mated
with understanding) are the best things in life according to our author.
I hope they will not forget the theory however. There is no book on ethics
with which I am acquainted that is more persuasively convinced of the
utter need for hard thinking in moral enquiries. From the outset the
author takes his reader into his confidence, and invites him to search for
a reasonable answer to one of the most important of all questions ; and he
never loses his frankness, his sincerity, or his faith.

As we have seen, the spirit of Mr. Joad's enquiry, and its considerable
merits, are very different from Mr. Field's. As I understand him, Mr.
Joad intends the first part of his book to be philosophical, logically water-
tight, and all the rest of it, while in the second part he is preparad to
throw logic to the winds (when it suits him) in order to reach ' the prin-
ciple at which we happen to have arrived '. In the first part he plays the
traditional game according to the traditional rules (even to the extent of
playing at a logical reconciliation of opposing theories). In the second
part he does something better, for he deals with life which is larger than
logic.

In so very argumentative an author, this open scorn of logic when he
ceases to be playful, seems somewhat peculiar. Indeed, it occasionally
soun,ds like ' rationalising ' or inventing a virtue to mask a troublesome
uneasiness. This suggestion, however, is probably unfair to Mr. Joad.
He seems to be desperately in earnest with his ir rationalism.

At the same time, he allows himself a great deal of latitude both in point
of logic and in point of accuracy, what time he is playing the traditional
•game. Thus, in the matter of accuracy, it is surely preposterous to regard
Kant as the chief protagonist of 'moral sense theories '. To be sure, it is
not at all clear from Mr. Joad's statements that ' the German philosopher
Kant' of whom he speaks is really Immanuel Kant, Professor at Konigs-
foerg. Still Mr. Joad, I think, means to convey this impression ; and, if

NEW BOOKS. 219

so, one may be pardoned for wondering why he neglected to state that
Immanuel Kant repudiated the moral sense (calling it a principle of
heteronorny), and affirmed most explicitly that we have no special sense
for good and evi\(e,g., Metaphysical Elements of Ethics, Preface). Again,
in the matter of logic, Mr. Joad tells us that the subjectivity of feeling
makes it an untenable basis for ethics. This view, he says, ' cuts at the
objective basis of all morality ' and ' nullifies the teaching of history '. Yet
he informs us triumphantly, only six pages later, that ' Good is the object
of desire not of reason '. It would be interesting to know why the
subjectivity of desires is not an objection, or what the momentous difference
is between Jack Sprat's liking for lean, and his desire for it.

These examples are not isolated but they are sufficient of themselves, I
think, to justify what I have said. Moreover, it is hard to see how Mr.
Joad's Part I. really proves that traditional ethics has very little bearing
on life. In view of the enormous influence of Benthamism upon English
legislation, for example, it is surely necessary for Mr. Joad to explain with
rather special pains why utilitarianism really had nothing to do with life.
Instead of that he tells us, with more violence than care, that he hates
a priori reasoning and that Hobbes and Hegel were miserable sinners.
The ' game, ' like angling, calls for patience, does it not ?

Mr. Joad's Part II. presumably should be judged by other standards,
and I do not know what the proper standards are. On the face of it,
however, despite its disclaimers, it professes to arrive at a truth by some
sort of impressionistic argument. This truth is that ethics ' becomes
psychology ' being simply a question of how to satisfy the individual ; and
the basis of the truth lies in metaphysics. In common with all things, we
are the creatures of the Life Force which will not let us go. Impulse is
the direct expression of the Life Force. Therefore, the life of impulse (so
far as we can get it) is the good life !

Surely this is very odd. " Impulse," says Mr. Joad, "is the expression
of the principle of change, reason of the principle of conservation ". Is
there, then, no principle of conservation in our lives ? And if there is
such a principle what, on the theory, can its source be except the Life
Force ? Is it not life that inhibits ? And is the impulse to restrain, to
ineddle, and to blame (which Mr. Joad abhors so fervently) not an im-
pulse at all ? Mr. Joad is a topsy-turvy Manicheean, loudly proclaiming
that morality is the devil. But there is no room for any devil in his
metaphysics.

I suppose, however, that these remarks are not in the proper spirit.
Certainly, they do not touch the distinctive merits of the book. Mr.
Joad sets out to be lively, readable, and provocative. He succeeds. Also
he tries to break new ground. And he succeeds again.

The chapters entitled "The Psychology of Impulse" and "The Place
of Impulse in Politics and Society" are by far the most important in the
book. In their general outline these chapters follow the lead which Mr.
Russell gave in his Principles of Social Reconstruction, but there is
nothing servile in Mr. Joad's cliscipleship. Mr. Joad develops and ex-
pands con amore, and he writes with refreshing skill and with manifest
sincerity. Whatever may be thought of the sufficiency of these theories,
and of the larger background of the new psychology and of the new
politics in which they are set, it is at least certain that moralists of the
present day cannot afford to ignore them. There is a gap in moral theory
precisely at the point which Mr. Russell and Mr. Joad select, and there-
fore there is something more than literary freshness in this gallant foray
of Mr. Joad's.

JOHN LAIRD.

220 NEW BOOKS.

AlleRadici delta Morale. By ETTORE GALLT. "Unitas" Societa Edit.,.

Milan, 1919. Pp. 414. Lire 15.
Nel Dominio dell' "Jo". By ETTORE GALLI. "Unitas," Milan, 1919,

Pp. 202.
Nel Mondo dello Spirito. By ETTORE GALLI. "Unitas," Milan, 1919.

Pp. 250.

These three books consist of elaborate psychological studies, aimed at
exhibiting in detail the author's view that psychology is the true basis of
moral theory, and indeed, it would seem, of all philosophy. I may ob-
observe at once that his hostile attitude to any doctrine involving con-
siderations of transcendence almost produces (as in Croce and Gentile, with
whom otherwise he has nothing in common) a peculiarity of style. " Esce
dalla vita," "in un altro mondo," udi la," "fuori delle sue leggi" (of the
psiche), are expressions of a type which he constantly employs to characterise
doctrines which belong to the metaphysic of ethics in its largest sense. I
am not saying that he is wrong in applying such language, e.g., to the com-
plete machinery of Kant's ethical system. Where I should find a difficulty
would be rather in his tacit postulate that metaphysic has no meaning
except as such abstract ontology.

Having made this protest, I should add that he seems to me a sincere
and thoughtful student, who interprets his psychology as largely as
possible, and ingeniously finds room in it for most of what a philosopher
of another type would want to say, while returning to remind us every now
and then that if we take it beyond the province of psychological fact it all
becomes an illusion. He is, if I follow him right, quite favourably dis-
posed to this illusion, which he takes as in fact inevitable and at the root
of life.

The roots of morality are in "biological tendency/' the tendency to the
" utile " of the organism, which is the inmost nature of human and animal
impulse, and is not a reflective aspiration after pleasure in the abstract.
It might be described, I think, in Beccaria's phrase as " that force similar
to gravity which thrusts us on to our wellbeing," and there are other points
in the work (the account of punishment, and of duty and justice) which
recall Beccaria. The treatise consists of a detailed account of the
gradation of conceptions of wellbeing through which this impulse pushes
us onward, giving organisation and doctrinal form by the way. Its link
with our views of life is through the tendencies described as Optimism
and Pessimism, which depend on the biological " potential " of the
organism. Optimism, being the reflexion of the tendency to life,,
prevails, and with it the ideas which are necessary to life.

Duty, Justice, and Values are the results in morality of the "ten-
dency" ; but construed as Duty for its own sake, as Justice involving,
retribution, and as objective values apart from desire, are misinter-
pretations of the biological facts from which they spring, and which,
if sincerely and concretely interpreted (Duty and Justice are means to the
end of life) they represent with fulness and truth. But the conclusion
of the whole matter is that ' ' Psychological forces are the base and the
secret stimulus of morality. Morality is altogether a consequence of the
psychical constitution of the man who lives it and the philosopher who
theorises it. Its objects, its principles, hypostasised and located outside
of the world and of man to find their justification, are the fruit of psycho-
logical illusion, are the revenge of psychology on those who do not take
due account of it." I think, from his own point of view, he keeps con-
sciousness too separate, and does not give it its conative value ab initio.

The second work is a very detailed exercise on the formation and
characterisation of the ego by means of the mine. The sense of the mine

NEW BOOKS. 221

is a special case of internal sensation ; not feeling, because not pleasure-
pain — it might be called "senso"; and it is this quasi-sensation, here
analysed and illustrated at great length, first as its cases affect the ego,
and then as the ego's moods affect it, that is the true non-conceptual basis
of the ego. Comparing it with the kind of sensations to which James
tended to reduce the self, it seems more complete and more relevant. A
case which has strongly impressed the author is the sense of property in
the Italian peasant proprietor, which apparently is highly aggressive
towards an intruder.

The third book contains disconnected papers ; on Introspection as a
method (the only true method of observation ; it includes all observation,
and, practically, deals with the past and with images only) ; on the jest
(Scherzo or Burla) which has something in common with Bergon's Rire ;
and on what the author calls Attesa in contrast to Attenzione. This
shows his ingenuity well, I think. Attesa is prospective attention which
implies an act to be done. This attitude of the whole self, underneath
the perceptual observation, he compares with the experience of waking at
an hour previously fixed, and this again he likens to an imperative to
which the whole subconscious self is adjusted, as in the moral imperative.
You have in such attention an observation and a command. There is a
criticism of the futurists which seems to me plausible, on page 126. They
try to assist the imagination by supplying visible notes of incompatible
times, but really interrupt and baffle it, by taking its work out of its
hands.

The last paper treats of freedom of the will, condemning the idea of
contingent or arbitrary freedom as psychologically negative, and con-
struing positive freedom in terms of the number of alternatives prepared
by mental process and open to choice. This hardly meets the whole
difficulty, which I suppose lies in the determinants of the choice. Of
course I cannot agree with the author's philosophy which partakes of the
anti- metaphysical spirit, prevalent, I imagine for historical reasons, in
Italy to-day. But I think that what he wishes to maintain has much
truth in it.

BERNARD BOSANQUET.

Spinoza and Time. By S. ALEXANDER. London : Allen & Unwin, Ltd.,

1921. Pp. 80.

In this small volume Mr. Alexander repays a debt which he seemed to
have overlooked in his monumental Gifford Lectures ; though, in fact,
the magnitude of that debt appears much less now that it has been ex-
hibited and discussed, than it seemed unacknowledged but suspected. It
is well known that in a certain austere yet complaisant mental attitude
and atmosphere, something of the disinterested spirit of Spinoza rests
upon his compatriot ; and when to this is added the insistence upon the
spatio-temporal ground of Reality in Mr. Alexander's system, it is not sur-
prising that a larger debt was imagined than a detailed study actually
reveals.

It may seem, especially to those who rely for their interpretation of
Spinoza upon his commentators (and we cannot regard Mr. Alexander as
belonging to that category, despite his too modest remarks on p. 19), that
it is unfortunate to cite the spatio-temporal ground of Reality as a point
of agreement with Spinoza ; yet it must never be overlooked that for
Spinoza Extension is eternal, which, if it means anything at all, cannot
mean timeless, except in the sense in which Dean Inge speaks of timeless -
ness as negating ' not the reality of the present, but the unreality of the

222 NEW BOOKS.

past and future' (Outspoken Essays, p. 275). For Spinoza, Nihil in
ideis positivum est, propter quod falsae dicuntur.

The line of argument offered by Mr. Alexander in the present volume
is unique ; he proposes to himself the question : What difference would
it make to Spinoza's philosophy if we * assign to Time a position not
allowed to it by Spinoza himself, but suggested by the difficulties and even
obscurities in which he has left it ' (p. 20) ? In effect what he wishes to
do is to make Time an Attribute of Ultimate Reality, and to degrade
Thought to the status of a finite mode.

Mr. Alexander centres an important part of his criticism of Spinoza
about the well-known discussion between the latter and Tschirnhausen
(Ep. 69-72), as to how the variety of the universe can be shown a priori
from the conception of extension ; and he indicates his view that the
solution of Spinoza (viz., that the variety cannot be deduced merely from
the conception, but only through the eternal and infinite Attribute) is
inadequate because he has omitted Time. And Mr. Alexander quotes (and
accepts as just) the suggestion of Mr. Joachim that Spinoza is asserting
that the Attribute differs from the conception because it expresses God's
omnipotence, and because Substance is alive. But life and omnipotence,
he objects, ' are undefined ideas, transferred from our experience, to de-
scribe metaphorically the being of God '. Doubtless that is true, I hold
no brief for Mr. Joachim, nor do I wish to read more into the words of
Spinoza than his letter warrants (De his forsan aliquando, si vita suppetitf
clarius tecum agam. Nam hue usque nihil de his ordine disponere mihi
licuit), but none familiar with the mind of Spinoza will believe for a
moment that he is guilty either of a verbal trick, or of the vague generality
suggested by Mr. Joachim. Of course, as Mr. Alexander asserts, Spinoza
would certainly have rejected the notion of Duration as an Attribute, and
in my view he would have been right to do so, not merely because it
would have meant remodelling his system, but because the notion cannot,
in the end, sustain itself.

In order to bring that out let us see very briefly some of the results of
Mr. Alexander's ' impossible hypothesis '. First of all, Infinite Substance
goes and we are left with 'Stuff' which is identified with Spinoza's im-
mediate mode of Motion. Finite things are not ' modes ' of ' substance '
but 'pieces 'of 'Stuff'. Then, Mr. Alexander tells us that this Infinite
Stuff, although full of Time, is itself timeless, in the sense that it has
neither a momentary existence nor a single duration. It ' comprehends
them all'. And the only way in which Mr. Alexander can avoid the
difficulty which Spinoza met, and which made him exclude Duration as
an Attribute, is by refusing to consider Stuff * as such '. But how can
Time be an Attribute of Ultimate Reality if that Reality is either not
conceivable ' as such,' or else is not temporal ? The question we have to
press is whether Duration is an attribute of Stuff- as-such. And we cannot
let Mr. Alexander off with metaphors : ' The stuff of reality is not stag-
nant, its soul's wings are never furled ' is no more satisfactory than Mr.
Joachim's metaphor. Nor, I think, can Mr. Alexander really avoid our
question, for he holds that the grades of modal perfection proceed, not in
logical order as in Spinoza, but in temporal order, and that at least sug-
gests that Stuff chronologically precedes its qualitied ' pieces '. It seems
to me, therefore, that Mr. Alexander asks us to cease our analysis just
where we are most interested in proceeding ; and we prefer with Spinoza
to follow the argument to the bitter end.

I make no further reference to the degradation of the Attribute
of Thought ; it is based upon a familiar doctrine of Mr. Alexander's
Gifford Lectures. Nor have I space for the very important and in-
genious piece of Spinoza scholarship embodied in section 6, viz., the

NEW BOOKS. 228

problem of the apparent lack of symmetry as between Thought and
the infinite other Attributes ; I believe that Mr. Alexander is here
working along fruitful lines, though the matter ought to be capable of
an even simpler exposition.

In passing to the consequences for religion resulting from Mr.
Alexander's ' gloss,' one may note that he complains that Spinoza's
God lacks 'the human note,' because it contains humanity and all other
things * indiscriminately ' ; it contains both good and evil, and is not in
the 'lineal succession of goodness'. Yet Spinoza clearly asserts : Probi
inaestimabiliter plus perfectionem quam improbi habent.

Mr. Alexander's general view of the relation of deity to Space-Time and
to the other qualites is well known. At each level of existence the
individuals feel the ' nisus ' towards the next higher level. For us as
minds the nisus towards the quality of deity is religion. As the object
of devotion God is the infinite whole with its nisus towards deity, but no
infinite being possesses the quality. Now for us the question is whether
such a God better fulfils Mr. Alexander's own conditions than the God
of Spinoza ? Is it more suitable as an object of devotion ? Does it possess
' the human note ' ? Is it in ' the lineal succession of goodness ' ? Mr.
Alexander does not here discuss the last of these questions ; and however
one might be prepared to agree that his God, if believed in, would be an
object of admiration or fear, yet I cannot conceive Him as the object of de-
votion. For He, too, is lacking in the human note, and devotion implies and
includes love for its object. Why should I love infinite Space-Time with
its nisus to deity ? If Spinoza's God lacks anything, it is that responsive-
ness to love which we enjoy in our fellows, and which love, as we know ity
seems always (pace Goethe) to demand. But I cannot feel that Mr.
Alexander offers us even as much as we have in those great words of
Spinoza : Amor Dei erga homines et Mentis erga Deum Amor intellectually
unum et idem.

H. F. HALLETT.

Proceedings of the Aristotelian Society. New Series. Vol. xxi. : 1920-
1921. London: Williams & Norgate, 1921.

Dean Inge's presidential address has for title the question, ' Is the Time
Series reversible ? ' It discusses the distinction of past and future, with
the implied starting-point of the present ; the distinction of earlier and
later, and the meaning of the causal order ; and finally the question, how
far the hypothesis of the illusoriness of the time succession conflicts with
the facts of life and change. The address is not a long one and maintains
throughout an attitude of tentative suggestion. Dean Inge says, in fact,
that he has not "even attempted to reach any conclusions". The
following sentences, however, seem to represent his own view, though it
is left in rather vague outline. "The Time-Succession seems tnen to
belong to a half-real world, and to share its self-contradictions. We are
partly in this half-real world, and partly out of it. We are enough out
of it to know that we are blind on one side, which we should never know
if Time were real, and we inside it."

The Symposium on 'The Character of Cognitive Acts' by J. Laird,
G. E. Moore, C. D. Broad, and G. Dawes Hicks, is an interesting one and
invites more comment than I have space to give it. As is apt to be the
case, the exact nature of the question at issue is not clear at the outset,
and the third paper, Prof. Broad's, is the most useful in clearing it up.
He analyses very carefully the meaning of the question and the possible
answers that may be given to it. Sometimes, however, his own assump-
tions seem o need some of that critical questioning which he applies to

"224 NEW BOOKS.

those of others. " Why should not ,a complex as a whole," he asks,
" have the property of being mental though it consists of a set of related
terms none of which is mental ? " We are expected apparently to swallow
this paradox without difficulty. The only aid which Prof. Broad offers is
the suggestion, "just as an army has certain properties that belong to
none of the soldiers in it ". But an army has not, at any rate, the pro-
perty of being a human complex none of whose constituents are human.
I think the whole discussion might have gained by being brought into
relation with a well-known and fully worked out scheme of mental
analysis like Ward's — for the reasons, among others, that Prof. Ward has
insisted so strongly on the activity involved in presentation, and that he
is careful about the precise and appropriate use of terms. The present
discussion abounds in phrases which seem unhappy, to say the least.
Thus an ' act ' may have 'objects' as 'constituents,' an 'act' has 'con-
tents,' a * cognition ' may not be an ' act/ an object cannot * appear to
have a character' save to a ' cognitive act,' the something that we call ' I '
may be nothing distinct from and other than ' acts '. Prof. Laird main-
tains in a vaguer way than Ward that the analysis of cognition requires
us to recognise an * act ' as well as an ' object,' but, on the other hand,
goes further in claiming a direct introspective acquaintance with the
' act '. Dr. Moore and Prof. Broad may be said to agree in questioning
the existence of any such distinct subjective factor and in turning their
attention to the objective ' constituents ' of the l cognition,' i.e., objects and
relations between objects — a result which is no doubt natural enough when
an ' act ' is arrested for examination. In view of the fact that his analysis
of cognition had been directly challenged. Prof. Dawes Hicks is obliged to
devote the first part of his paper to a brief explanation and defence of it.
I wish he had had space to develop this interesting explanation a little
further, for I share Dr. Moore's difficulty about the ' content ' of the
cognitive act and am not clear as to its relation to the ' content appre-
hended '. In the second part of the paper Prof. Dawes Hicks indicates the
relation of his own view to those of the previous writers.

Three papers deal with certain philosophical aspects of science. Prof.
W. P. Montague's on ' Variation, Heredity and Consciousness ' is an
attempt to show (1) how some of the facts of biology which seem least
capable of being expressed in mechanical terms — facts of Variation and
Heredity — can conceivably be so expressed if we suppose additional com-
plications of 'the mechanical apparatus, (2) how, on the assumption of
parallelism, the characteristics of consciousness can be reconciled with a
mechanical theory of the bodily processes. As dealing with abstract
possibilities the whole discussion is rather in the air, and the last part of
it in particular is not easy to follow. Prof. J. E. Boodin's paper on
' Cosmic Evolution ' maintains, in a somewhat diffuse and rhetorical
fashion, that there must be " an eternal hierarchy of levels in the universe.
Law and order on the lower levels are due to an interpenetration by the
higher levels. . . . These levels ... are not mere abstract forms, as
Plato's Ideas, but energy patterns." Miss Dorothy Wrinch's paper on the
' Structure of Scientific Inquiry ' insists on the importance of developing
the logical relations between the lower and the higher generalisations of
science. These generalizations state the co-existence of sets of properties,
and the logical problem of science in its higher stage is "to relate our
generalisations among themselves so that they follow inevitably from the
smallest number of unexplained and unexplainable primitive assumptions ".
From identity of form in the logical scheme of relationships we may often
be able to see how the solution of problems in one department of science
covers those in another. With these papers may be grouped Miss Hilda
Oakeley's ' On Prof. Driesch's Attempt to combine a Philosophy of Life

NEW BOOKS. 225

and a Philosophy of Knowledge ' in which she seeks to show, that in this
writer's later works the philosophy of knowledge is tending to gain a
questionable predominance over the philosophy of life, and to deprive life
and history of their due significance for the final interpretation of reality.
In a paper called (not too appropriately) ' The New Materialism,' Mr.
C. A. Richardson uses some of the familiar doctrines of Prof. Ward as the
basis for a criticism of Neo-realist views in regard to sense-data. Prof.
Hoernle's 'Plea for a Phenomenology of Meaning' maintains that all
current theories of meaning are inadequate, and urges the need for
"the collection and unprejudiced examination of all types of empirical
situations in which signs function ". Whether any valuable contribution
to philosophy is likely to reward the proposed labours is a point on
which the reader may have his doubts. In the last paper of the volume,
'On Arguing in a Circle,' Dr. Schiller contends that there is no formal
distinction between arguing in a circle and what he calls ' arguing in a
system,' i.e., the logic of Absolutism. The argument contains too many
divisions and subdivisions to be easily summarised, but the following
quotation may serve to indicate the line taken, and to show at the same
time that Dr. Schiller has not wholly succeeded in putting himself at his
opponent's point of view. "Just because proof is held to depend on
systematic connexion, the complete system is not capable of proof. The
proof must fall within it, and none can apply to the system itself. It is a
corollary from this that a (partial) system can be proved only from
without."

H. B.

The Making of Humanity. By EGBERT BRIFFAULT. London : George
Allen & Unwin, 1919. Pp. 371.

An apology is due to Mr. Brifiault for the late appearance of this notice
of his Making of Humanity, a sequel to which has been already reviewed
in MIND. Mr. Briffault is a provocative, a confident, and not always an
accurate writer ; but those most likely to be repelled by these character-
istics are perhaps those most likely to profit by careful consideration of
the case which he here presents with a somewhat one-sided trenchancy.
Though he opens with a Greek motto, he is perhaps not very familiar
with Greek. When we find him speaking of Porphyry's Isagogue, or of
the pseudo-Dyonisius, we may hope that the printer is to blame ; but the
printer can scarcely be responsible for the ' clans, genoi, phrateries ' of
page 121. Ignorance of Greek is not indeed a crime, but it suits ill with
the contemptuous tone of Mr. Briffault in dealing with such mistakes of
scholarship as he detects (for example Alcuin's, in speaking of kneads).
His own learning is much at fault when he comes to the middle ages.
On page 216 alone ' one Brother Vergil' ; ' John Erigena who had
travelled in the East ' ; ' The eucharistic heresy was — it was hoped —
adequately laid at rest by Archbishop Anselm of Canterbury ' ; ' Abelard,
who proclaimed that reason was the supreme and sole authority ' are
sufficient to prove to those acquainted with the subject how ill qualified
he is by knowledge of the history of the period to write with such assur-
ance about it. Of the knowledge of Aristotle in the west before the
twelfth century he shows himself equally incompetent to speak (one
would like him to have pointed out the * meagre fragments ' of that
philosopher to be found in Capella), and what he says of Averroes suggests
that he does not know the thesis of Kenan's book concerning him. His
cocksureness about matters so difficult as the influence of totemism and
the doctrines of Mithraism do not inspire the cautious reader with con-
fidence. One wonders what he knows of * the solemn intonation of the

15

226 NEW BOOKS.

Mithraic clergy as they called upon the ' ' Lamb of God that taketh away
the sins of the world " '. Who could guess from this passage that no
Mithraic liturgy has come down to us, with the very doubtful exception
of one document, printed as such by a German scholar, which contains
nothing remotely resembling such a phrase ; or that the victim in the
holy sacrifice of Mithraism was not a lamb but a bull, and that this
victim was not, as in Christianity, himself the priest ?

The thesis of Mr. Briffault's book is that ' rationality of thought ' is
' the means and efficient cause of the evolution of the human race,' ' the
sole actual instrument of human progress ' (p. 51). The ' progress of
evolution ' in general ' has not been pre-ordained or planned, but groping
and fumbling' (p. 22); but the development of man, once 'rational
thought ' has taken it in hand, is subject to laws which make ' the ideal
of an independent and segregated human group, ' ' of a national civilisa-
tion, of an empire, of a state ' ' an unrealisable impossibility '. It must
thus lead eventually, we gather, to an organised humanity, and Mr.
Briffault, like many of his contemporaries, looks askance at all theories of
national imperialism as attempts to hinder the movement in this direc-
tion. It is not without an eye to people nearer at hand than the ancient
Athenians of whom he is immediately speaking that he remarks : ' A
league of Greek nations, such as the Cynic and Cyrenaic philosophers
advocated was all very well before the instant menace of Persian aggres-
sion, but as a permanent order it was an unpractical dream '. ' It would,
for one thing, mean the giving up of the command of the sea, and that, of
course, was not even to be thought of ' (p. 137). The great enemy of
' rational thought ' is, for our author, ' power- thought, ' a ' functional
disease ' of thought, ' absolutely inevitable and incurable ' in ' the holder
of any form of power ' (p. 81).

In these contentions there is no doubt contained a good deal of truth,
but one would like to press Mr. Briffault here and there with questions
such as these. How are we to reconcile the statement on page 49 that
' the brute-man first bethought himself of using his brain as a handle to
his tools and weapons ' with that on page 47 which appears to identify
' thought ' with the use of the brain cells ? Did ' the brute-man ' know
that his brain had anything to do with it ? What was the origin of custom
(p. 74) ? Is any form of civilisation conceivable in which no one will hold
power and so inevitably succumb to the disease of power-thought ?

Mr. Briffault's views on ethics are also not uninstructive, although
again they leave one unsatisfied in certain points. The ' moral law ' is
but ' a man-made convention,' yet ' it does correspond to a very real and
supremely important fact in human development ' (p. 260), namely that
( the peculiar means and conditions of human development necessitate that
that development shall take place not by way of individuals, but by way
of the entire human race'. 'Ethical development, like every other
aspect of human progress, not only goes hand in hand with the growth
and diffusion of rational thought, but is the direct outcome of it ' (p. 267).
But it is not with the traditional moral code of Christendom that we have
to do. The influence of religion on ethics is in the main viewed by our
author in the spirit of Lucretius : Tantum relligio potuit suadere malorum.
' Justice is the whole of morality ' (p. 296). He is disposed to deprecate
the high value often set on individual sanctity even apart from correctness
of judgment. He pooh-poohs the charge of * corruption ' frequently
brought by prophets and satirists against complex civilisations. He has
little respect for the morality of good intentions, for the ' sincere and
disinterested sense of duty towards mankind ' which has actuated so many
persecutors. He is obsessed by 'the wickedness of the "good"' and
finds the unpardonable sin in our estimate of intellectual error as morally

NEW BOOKS. 227

indifferent when our purpose is pure. Democracy, though ' the worst
form of government,' is ' the only social order that is admissible, becau.se
it is the only one consistent with justice,' which is 'even more important
than efficiency and expediency ' (p. 295). Thus, while at first Mr.
Briffault's ethics seem to be the antithesis of Kant's, as being based not
upon the good will but upon the results obtained, we come back to what
is expressly called (p. 296) ' the categorical imperative of justice '. ' It is
largely because of the vigour of the forces of moral protest in periods of
high culture that all their abuses and corruptions stand pilloried in the
fierce light of denunciation ' (p. 311). This is no doubt quite true. ' Views
and opinions are the only ethically significant, the only moral and immoral
things' (p. 322). 'Our morality has improved because our intellectual
development and rationality have advanced ' (p. 325). The perversion
which he finds in our traditional Christian ethics he traces to the stress
laid by Stoics and Epicureans on the formation of individual character, the
consequence of which is that ' the basal function of all morality becomes
inverted; it actually behoves to "resist not evil"' (p. 332). It is per-
haps somewhat surprising to find that with these opinions Mr. Briffault is
not an unbeliever in immortality.

There is a certain nobility in Mr. Briffault's outlook and, if one is dis-
satisfied with what may seem a one-sided conception of morality, there is
nowadays so much justification for calling attention to the importance of
reason in life that one may easily excuse him for failing to solve so difficult
a problem as that of the relation of our moral consciousness to the
scientific view of the world. On the principle on which Kant made a
practice of reading books which aimed at disproving the reality of the
three great objects of faith while neglecting those which aimed at proving
it, some of us who are less content than Mr. Briffault to part company
with the tradition of Christendom may yet find his pages more profitable
than many, more balanced and more scholarly, written in support of that
tradition.

C. C. J. W.

Die Religion der Vernunft aus den Quellen des Judenthums. By
HERMANN COHEN. Leipzig : Gustav Fock, 1919. Pp. iv, 629.

This massive book was the last preoccupation of the well-known philo-
sopher who, along with Natorp, has for many years led the so-called
" Marburg school ". One of its aims— and this alone concerns the readers
of this journal — may be said to be the detailed transposition of Hebrew
religious thought (the general results of modern criticism being accepted)
into the terms of pure dialectic. What we really have is a kind of allegor-
ising treatment of Old Testament ideas and history, only in this case
the allegorical method yields, not religious truths or moral lessons, but
logical values.

It is reason, we are told, which as the source and organ of conceptions
first creates the idea of religion ; for reason is by no means exhausted in
science and philosophy. Like those other disciplines, religion, in so far
as it consists of and rests upon .conceptions, must derive ultimately from
reason. And when Judaism is properly construed, it can be shown to
contain, as no other faith does, the purely rational religion. The course of
its development unfolds the creative work of reason in the sphere of das
Heilige. There we see religion displaying itself as a universal function of
the human spirit. As the Greeks lit upon the right method in science, so
did the Hebrews in an even more important realm of life. " We have to

228 NEW BOOKS.

investigate, in the sources of Judaism, the deepest philosophical motives by
and in which the religion of reason is actualised. And we shall have to
note that this elemental force of reason began to stir, not merely in the
later history of Judaism, when Greek influences were at work, but in the
very earliest thoughts of Judaism. There already we find bonds connect-
ing the Jewish mind with philosophic reason. . . . The religion of reason
imparts to the sources of Judaism its original, natural, human connexion
with philosophical speculation, and is no more imitated from Greece than
it is borrowed." Perhaps it would not be unfair to compare this with
Hegel's construction, but it is Hegelian philosophy of religion covering and
interpreting not all the great faiths but solely the Hebrew evolution.

Everywhere reason stands for rule or norm, hence the religion of reason is
fundamentally determined by law. Legality is the very mark of the pious
life. Idolatry must be eradicated, and there is no fanaticism whatever in
saying so.

But does religion have any real place or meaning over against morality ?
Certainly for the Jewish mind the two things never could fall apart.
Reason contains the principle of the good, by which morality is determined ;
it also contains the principles of monotheism. But the distinction between
the two, which is as real as the kinship, lies in this, that religion discovers
to me my neighbour. It reveals the individual "thou" confronting the
"I," while ethics only regards the individual in his connexion with
humanity as a whole. Sympathy with pain is the secret ; it really is the
point at which religion emerges from morality, and there arises a new
order of experience. But sin as well as pain is an evil with revealing
virtue ; and it is just because he discovered man to himself through sin
that Ezekiel — a true parallel to the ethical Socrates — may be called the
founder of religion proper.

Cohen, so far as I can gather, appears to think of God pretty much as
Arnold did — a tendency in things, not ourselves, making for righteousness.
Perhaps we might define God, in his sense, as the symbol of the assured
triumph of the moral ideal. But little is said about personal fellowship,
and we are probably not unjust if we conclude that what he offers is religion
within the bounds of humanity. The unity and uniqueness of God is the
all-commanding thought of Judaism ; God alone is true being, and panthe-
ism is not a religion at all. The following is a characteristic passage :
" The uniqueness (of God) signifies also the distinction between being and
existence (Daseiri). And this distinction brings out admirably the share
which reason has in monotheism. For existence is witnessed to by the
senses, by perception. On the other hand it is reason — in contradiction
to the senses which lends reality to the existence — that discovers super-
sensible being, lifts the supersensible to the level of being, singles it out
as being." Because God is unique, He is unchangeable as well, and there
can be no mediation between Him and natural existence. This condemns
the idea of the Logos.

For our present purpose we need go no further. Especially in the
earlier part of the book, an indefatigable effort is made to work out the
dialectical equivalent of each element in Hebrew theology. Thus the
logical value of " chaos " is estimated carefully. There is something nobly
unbending in the writer's attitude, and many good things are said by the
way, but the enterprise as a whole seems to me essentially fruitless.
Religion is not in any sense a mystical or a priori logic. Hebrew roots and
words are not in fact charged with a profound unconscious theory of know-
ledge, which when spelt out proves to be an anticipation of a difficult
nineteenth-century system of philosophy.

But it is a piquant thought that the Jewish mind, so often said (I
believe wrongly) to have contributed in its Old Testament stage little or

NEW BOOKS. 229

nothing to philosophy, should now be made the source par excellence of
rational religion.

The Index, which is specially full, extends to over 80 pages. But mis-
prints are lamentably common.

H. R. MACKINTOSH.

Studies in Christian Philosophy : The Boyle Lectures, 1920. By W. R.
MATTHEWS, M.A., B.D. London : Macmillan, & Co., 1920. Pp. 228.

IF this book does not make any material advance upon the presentations
of theistic argument recently put forward by Profs. Ward, Pringle-Pattison
and Sorley, it may be said to carry on that argument on the lines which
the best forthcoming theistic philosophy have laid down. The promise,
contained in its title, to discuss the distinctively Christian type of theism,
is but scantily fulfilled ; but as further courses of Boyle Lectures are to be
delivered by the author, we may expect the completion of his purpose in a
later volume.

The present work on ethical theism may be recommended to readers of
MIND because, unlike some essays in theological apologetic, it does not set
out from presuppositions such as the philosopher would be inclined to
reject as groundless. Its writer eschews the various short cuts to the
establishment of theism which assume what is called ' the validity of
religious experience,' and the familiar attempts to avoid in one way or
another the final appeal to reason. As against the view that theology is
but the formulation of religious experience, he holds that there is no such
thing as religious experience that is prior to the fashioning of theological
ideas, and that whatever is sui generis in religious experience is to be
sought, not in the affective and conational elements which such experience
contains, but in the ideas which are employed to colligate them and to
assign them a causal explanation. From this view it follows that theology
involves dogma or metaphysics ; and it is the tenability of such metaphysic
with which philosophy of religion should be primarily, if not solely,
concerned.

The author further recognises that in this cognitional aspect, theology
is a matter of belief, not of knowledge : of probability, not of implication
or deinonstrability. And, in this connexion, he might perhaps have
insisted more plainly that the theist can afford to make this confession
without qualms now that it has come to be generally recognised that all
our scientific knowledge of the world presupposes the inductive hypothesis
and the venture of faith. The most that can be expected from theism is
thus a reasonable ground for its belief, i.e., a basis in such partial knowledge
as we think we have : and any philosophy concerned to repudiate theism
must be in the same case. Arguing, as I understand him, on these lines,
Mr. Matthews proceeds to maintain that theism is to-day a ' live option, '
and to compare its i reasonableness, as an interpretation of the world, with
that of other current alternatives such as absolutism, naturalism and
pluralism. His examination of thase rival options is but cursory ; but if
it dismisses them somewhat facilely on that account, it at any rate serves
to exhibit clearly the characteristics of theism. The same purpose is
furthered by the lectures on divine personality and the idea of creation.
But the most important link in the chain of theistic argument, which as a
whole one may best describe as cumulatively teleological, is supplied by
considerations concerning human morality. Mr. Matthews assigns a
prominent position to arguments based on such considerations ; but he
aims at more than deriving from them additional strength for a cumulative
teleology. As I have already offered criticism of these several moral argu-
ments in another review, I will here say no more than that none of the

230 NEW BOOKS.

various attempts that have been made to show that theism is the necessary
presupposition of the objectivity of moral truths or of ethical ideals seems
to me to be free from fallacy, and that the author's argumentation, like
that of other recent defenders of theism, is weaker rather than stronger
for trying to extract more evidence for theism from the sphere of values
than is furnished by the fact that the world is so constituted as to be
instrumental to the acquisition of the moral status and to moral progress.
The theist of to-day is indeed seldom, if ever, content with this modicum
of ' moral proof ' ; but I think that his valour, in fighting so lightly armed,
would prove the better part of his discretion.

F. R. TENNANT.

Pantheism and the Value of Life, with Special Reference to Indian
Philosophy. By W. S. URQUHART, M. A., D.Phil. London : Epworth
Press, 1919. Pp. 732.

This work was originally submitted as a thesis for the degree of D.Phil, of
Aberdeen University. It is divided into three books and an Introduction
of fifty-four pages. Book I. (pp. 57-514)* deals with Pantheism and the
Value of Life in Indian Philosophy. Book II. (pp. 515-580) treats of
Pantheism in Western Philosophy. Book III. is devoted to recapitulation
and generalisation. The author says in the preface, " I should esteem it a
favour if attention were mainly directed to the Introduction and Books I.
and III, very specially to Book I. which deals exclusively with Indian
Philosophy". On the next page of the preface he tells us the object
which he has in view in writing this work : " At times there seems to
have been a slight tendency both to underestimate the value of Western
philosophical and religious contribution and to overlook certain deficiencies
in Indian speculation which near and constant contact with the peoples of
India makes abundantly evident. My own opinion is that a radical trans-
formation of Indian thought will be necessary if India is to advance
mentally, morally, and religiously, and my main object in this discussion
is to show, with, I hope, all due and sympathetic appreciation of the im-
mense value of Indian philosophy, the necessity for this transformation."
In accordance with the author's request I shall limit myself to the main
part of his work which deals with Indian philosophy.

The fundamental position of Pantheism is defined by Prof. Urquhart as
" the double assertion that God is all that is and that there cannot be any-
thing but God". The effect of Pantheism on the value of life is to be
judged by deciding whether it leads to pessimism or optimism. True
optimism is defined " as that attitude of mind which, in full consciousness
of the exact state of things in the world, holds to the belief that the
highest values are being and will be realised ". Pessimism in its positive
aspect is regarded as the belief that the process of the world is towards
evil and towards pain, and in its negative aspect as indifference to the need
of progress or the denial of its possibility ; and these two aspects are so
closely related that the latter type often leads to the former.

In dealing with the Vedic religion, Prof. Urquhart holds that the Vedic
people believed that the hidden forces of the world were like a fluid and a
semi-material reality which the worshipper by means of certain rites and
incantations may participate in and thus obtain divine power through a
process of physical absorption. This is indeed a very curious doctrine and
Prof. Urquhart does not tell us on what authority he considers this as a
fundamental Vedic doctrine. We know that the Vedic people believed in
the magical force of sacrifices, but we are not aware that this was a semi-
material fluid in which the worshipper participated. In a curious way he
associates this with an ascetic tinge and discovers the germ of the negative

NEW BOOKS. 231

idea which permeates the whole of Indian philosophy. I do not further
find it easy to agree with him in his view that at the root of the Upanishad
quest, there was any dark background, or that it was actuated by the grow-
ing consciousness of the need of deliverance. So far as I have understood
the Upanishads, I have found them characterised by an absorbing percep-
tion of truth and the enthusiasm and gladness of this discovery. It never
appeared to me that the Upanishads had any pessimistic tinge. All
through them is found a gust of joy and truth. It would have been well if
each of the chapters of this book could be even briefly discussed, but space
is too limited and it is impossible to do justice to a book of over seven
hundred pages in such a short notice. But we must say that it is wrong
to assert that Ved:intism has led to pessimism. It appears almost certain
that pessimism crept into Hindu thought from Buddhism, which regarded
sorrow, the cause of sorrow, the destruction of sorrow, and the cause of its
destruction as the Four Noble Truths. Most of the later Indian systems
of philosophy accepted it tacitly or expressly. It is also wrong to think
that Vedantism was typical of Indian philosophy, for all the other systems
such as that of the Jains, the Samkhya, Yoga, Nyaya, Vaigeshika,
Mlmamsa, or the later Vishnuite schools of Yamuna, Ramanuja, Madhva,
Nimbarka, Baladeva, etc., are either dualistic or pluralistic, and in this
sense Vedantism may be regarded rather as an exception than as the
model. The idea that the world is sorrowful was shared more or less
by all these schools of thought, and it is extremely unfair to associate it
particularly with Vedantism. Since the time of Buddhism this idea ex-
pressed itself as an attitude of the Indian mind, and no particular system
of thought can be made responsible. It must also be said that of all the
systems, Vedantism is least pessimistic ; nowhere in the Vedanta literature
is this sorrowful aspect of the world emphasised half as much as in the
pluralistic system of Samkhya Yoga. The whole ambition of Vedanta is
to prove that this world has only a secondary, phenomenal, and changeful
existence, and that the ultimate truth is pure consciousness, which is also
pure bliss. Vedantism did not hold that pain and sorrow did not exist at
all ; but it held that it had only a secondary phenomenal existence, and
must be considered as illusory when compared with the ultimate reality ;
and it also believed that we were progressing towards the attainment of
this highest goal and that we should all attain it. According to Prof.
Urquhart's definition of optimism we should like to call Vedantism
optimism and not pessimism.

S. N. DASGUPTA.

Indian Logic and Atomism : An Exposition of the Nydya and Vaipesika
Systems. By ARTHUR BERRIED ALE KEITH, D.C.L., D.Litt. Oxford:
Clarendon Press, 1921. Pp. 291.

Prof. Keith's book will be warmly welcomed by all who are interested in
the study of Indian philosophy. It belongs to a new era of research on
Indian philosophy, in which elementary compendiums are not taken as the
main guides for the understanding of a system of thought. Many writers
have written on the Nyfiya system, but in most cases, with some notable
exceptions such as the Sadholal Lectures by Dr. Ganganath Jha, or the
Indian Logic by the late Dr. Vidyabhushana, they limited themselves to
the information that could be gleaned from such compendiums as Bhas-
hapariccheda, Tarkasangraha or the SaptapadarthI, which though good in
themselves are quite insufficient for explaining the position of Nyaya as a
system of philosophy. The great merit of Prof. Keith's work is that he
has based his exposition on the main works of the Nyaya- Vaigeshika litera-
ture. There may be differences of opinion, with regard to the absolute

232 NEW BOOKS.

correctness or lucidity of his interpretation, but that does not affect the
value and honesty of the work that he has executed. Those who are ac-
quainted with the difficulty and abstruseness of Indian philosophical litera
ture will, I think, freely admit that it is only by a series of such honest
attempts that we can hope correctly to interpret Indian thought and
adjudge its true value and relation to modern philosophical thought. Prof.
Keith's scholarly work has certainly advanced the course of Nyaya studies
one step further.

The book is in two parts. The first contains only forty-one pages, and
gives an account of the Nyaya-Vai9eshika literature and discusses certain
historical questions connected with the subject. The second part is in two
divisions, on epistemology and metaphysics. The part on epistemology is
divided into six sections, Knowledge and Error, Perception, Inference,
Logical Errors, Nature and Authority of Speech, and Dialectical Categories.
The part on metaphysics deals with Ontology, Philosophy of Nature, Philo-
sophy of Spirit, and the Existence and Nature of God. In the section on
knowledge and error Prof. Keith considers the different Indian views on
the nature of knowledge, and contrasts them with the Nyaya view that
correct apprehension may briefly be described as that which attributes to
an object with a certain attribute the corresponding characteristic, while
false apprehension is one which ascribes a characteristic to a thing which
has not the corresponding attribute. In the next section he gives us the
Nyaya justification of the four means of proof, perception, inference, ana-
logical judgment, and verbal knowledge, as against other views on the
subject. He gives us the Nyaya principle of the division of means of proof
and says, " Means of proof, in this view, is that which is always accompanied
by true knowledge and at the same time is not disjoined from the appro-
priate organs or from the seat of consciousness, i.e., the soul. . . . The
true sense of pramana thus appears not as a mere instrument of proof, but
the mode in which the instrument is used, the process by which the know-
ledge appropriate to each means of proof is arrived at." The third section
deals with error, which " consists in having the knowledge of an object as
possessed of attributes which are not in accord with the real nature of the
thing ". In his chapter on perception he starts with Gautama's definition
of it as " knowledge which arises from the contact of sense and organ, when
not subject to error, when not requiring further determination and de-
finite," and discusses its relation with Dignaga and Dharmakirtti's definitions
of perception as " correct knowledge free from determination by imagina-
tion," and he then deals with the different kinds of sense-contact necessary
for perception and its stages as indeterminate and determinate. In the
subsequent i chapters he deals with inference and the fallacies, and discusses
the questions of Pra^astapada's debt to Dignaga. In the part dealing with
metaphysics he treats of the Vaigeshika categories of substance, quality,
activity, generality, particularity, and inherence, the doctrine of cause and
effect and of negation, and the atomic theory, soul, mind and body, and the
proofs of the existence of God.

I do not, however, think that Prof. Keith has in all places correctly in-
terpreted the Nyaya view. It would have been profitable to have discussed
some of these here but space is too limited. I shall, however, give one or
two examples. On page 69 Prof . Keith says, "The self is all-pervading
consciousness . . . ," but this is inexact, for according to Nyaya, the self is
all-pervading, but it is not consciousness. Consciousness is associated with
it as a result of suitable collocations. Thus the Nyayaman jarl says (p. 432) :
" The dtman is conscious through association with consciousness (cit).
We do not regard anything as consciousness other than the manifestation
of objects." Again on page 72 he describes indeterminate perception as
"that which gives the bare knowledge of the class- character of the object ".

NEW BOOKS. 233

Whatever may be the case with Gange§a, this is not the early Nyaya view,
'which held that also particulars were perceived at the first stage. Tat-
paryyatika, page 91 ; Nyayamanjari, page 95 ; Nyayakandali, page 189.

S. N. DASGUPTA.

The Mneme. By R. SEMON. Translated by L. SIMON. London : G^
Allen & Unwin, Ltd., 1921. Pp. 304.

Most biologists are inclined to interpret the more developed and more
differentiated manifestations of life in terms of the less developed and
less differentiated. They would describe a hen as a modified egg rather
than an egg as an undeveloped hen. This tendency has its origin, one
suspects, partly in the belief that what comes first in time comes first in
logic and partly in an analogy with the physical sciences, where the aim is
to describe every process as a special case of the simplest and most
general laws. The analogy with physics is usually misleading and the
historical argument is certainly false. Physiologists as a rule realise
that, if you want to understand the mechanism of life processes, it is best
to start the investigation with the most highly specialised and differentiated
organ you can find, something such as a muscle or a nerve that has been
modified to perform one particular function. When something has been
elucidated in this case the knowledge is likely to throw light on the more
difficult cases of processes in unspecialised and undifferentiated tissues,
whose apparent structural simplicity conceals a great complexity of
function. It was long believed that a study of the Central Nervous
System would solve some of the problems of psychology, but it is probably
nearer the mark to say, that of the small amount of light that has been
shed on nervous functions a large part comes from psychology. Nearly
all that is said about brain processes would be unintelligible but for our
introspective knowledge of mental processes.

The late Prof. Semon seems to have been one of the first biologists to
realise that an exclusive study of the primitive life processes was not
likely to lead anywhere, and to suggest that what we know of the most
highly developed living functions might help us to understand the less
developed. He attempted to raise biological speculation above the futile
wrangles of Mechanists and Vitalists, Weismannists and Lamarckians ; to
try and provide a little bread in place of all these small pebbles. It is idle
to quarrel with the details of his exposition of his views, though it is not
difficult to do so, and idle to cavil at his barbarous terminology unless we
can substitute something better. What we certainly ought to recognise and
to lay stress on is his general outlook on the classical biological problems.
He has made a bold attempt to provide a constructive and unifying theory
in terms of which we can regard the processes of reproduction, growth and
development. The test of his views will be whether the facts as they
accumulate can be ordered in terms of his theory and whether the theory
bears fruit in suggesting fresh methods of investigation. Successful
experiment and correct observation in these matters is so difficult that
the testing of a general theory is of necessity a slow business.

We all of us know how past experience modifies present experience
and it is obvious that this process of learning by experience is one of the
salient facts about our mental life. We also know that we can observe in
all living creatures physical reactions to physical stimuli which are the
analogues of our mental reactions and their concomitants in our own
bodies. Good evolutionists must believe that minds and bodies and
particularly minds and nervous systems have grown up in close con-
junction. Now Semon holds that this process of memory that is obviously
characteristic of minds and brains is characteristic of all living cells and

234 NEW BOOKS

governs all their relations with the outside world and with one another.
In particular he attributes the special character of growth and inheritance
and the evolution of species to this process. The phenomena of growth
and reproduction are so staggering and so miraculous that it hardly seems
fair to expect any theory to explain them. But as far as one can see
Semon's theory does fit in pretty well with what is known and should
stimulate further investigation.

Only a short time ago, when Weismann's influence was supreme, it was
customary to believe that very little you could do to an organism would
alter the germ cells in any way, and that no modification to the organism
could modify them in the same direction. It was said that it was in-
conceivable that the germ cells could be influenced in this way and that
the experimental evidence was all against it. Since the days of Weismann,
and since the first edition of this book even, the balance of evidence has
been slowly shifting in the other direction, in favour of the possibility of
the inheritance of acquired characters. As might be expected, it is only
in certain ways and under certain conditions that the germ cells can be
affected in the right way, but it does seem to happen. This is really a
considerable triumph for Semon's views.

The orderly and inevitable course of the process of growth is at present
a complete mystery, but here again there is hope that Semon's views may
shed some light. Certainly other theories have shed nothing but deeper
shadow.

Altogether the time is ripe for a reasonable consideration of Semon's
theories. As they have not apparently received much notice in English-
speaking countries the appearance of this clear and readable translation
seems to be opportune.

A. D. R.

Especes et Variety's d' Intelligences, Elements de Noologie. By FRAI^OIS
MENTRE, Docteur es Lettres. Paris : Bossard, 1920. Pp. 294.

The author, who in his work on Les Generations Sociales1 studied the
historical influence of groupings united by a particular mentality, here, with
the same learning and suggestiveness, is working towards the development
of a science which shall be, KO to speak, a natural history of the species or
families of intelligences. The name n oology is derived, I gather, from
Ampere ; but the author traces the point of view from Pascal downwards,
principally through French psychologists and critics. (Ostwald is an
exception, and I suppose also Wechniakoff, who appears, however, to
have written in French. I regret that I am not acquainted with his
work.)

The researches, which are traced at length, tend to result in triple classifi-
cations. That which originates with Pascal (p. 77), and is practically
repeated by Poincare (p. 116), and Duhem (p. 133), summarised p. 140
— a classification of savants only — is in its latest form (Duhem) " Esprits
rigouteux, esprits amples, esprits justes (Pascal's esprits de finesse) " ;
which, as I gather, represent respectively the capacity for rigorous uni-
linear deduction, for imaginative intuition from a conspectus of data, e.g.,
of figures in geometry (the "ample" mind is also " feeble " ; the "rigor-
ous " mind is "strong"), and for general appreciation in matters of
feeling which adds persuasiveness to abstract reasoning. After further
discussion, in which, principally on the authority of A. Binet, the
" praticien," evidently a favourite with the writer, is added to the list, we
have an elaborate tabular form (p. 278) which gives three fundamental

1 See notice in New Books, MIND, July, 1921.

NEW BOOKS. 235

types or genera of Intelligences ; the Praticien (leading example, an
extraordinarily precocious and skilful laboratory assistant described by
Binet), the Contemplatif (Imagination on an emotional basis), and the
Meditatif (the Scientific mind). The two latter genera absorb Duhem's
triple division, and the three are supplemented by a number of hybrids,
derivations, and deviations. The author claims a practical value for his
science, both in the application of moral rules and in teaching. In both
we must in future reckon with a real existence of different types and
adjust our action accordingly (pp. 284-285 and note). A long review might
be written on the detailed suggestions drawn from many great writers,
St. Beuve, Taine, who had a doctrine of a faculte maitresse (p. 84) which
gives the mind a sort of spurious unity, Paulhan and others. But in a
limited space perhaps the best thing I can do is to raise a question of
principle which affects the root of the new science.

I speak with the utmost diffidence in presence of so profound a student
and, I presume, so experienced a teacher, as the author. But one can
give only what one has ; so I mention my difficulty. I do not doubt that
these types of minds are found ; nor that the study of them is important.
But I do wonder whether the idea of a natural history of species or
families of intelligences (character is strictly ruled out) is philosophically
sound. A member of a natural species, including its psycho-physical
endowment, is what it is, and though it changes throughout its life, yet
its life-history is almost a datum. You can safely co-ordinate it with
others, and write down its actual affinities. But for a human being the
corresponding data are no more than starting-points for the intelligence.
Intelligence is essentially thought ; and thought is, in principle, in relation
with the entire real universe, which it may approach from any starting-
point, and you cannot tell how far it may reach therefrom. Thus you get
the idea of a normal or central development, in which all sides of reality
tend to assert themselves, and the beings of marked species, instead of
each being distinct after his kind, tend to unite many features, on pain
of appearing defective. Paulhan roundly says there are no natural species
of intelligences (p. 100) ; Binet says his model praticien is incomplete as
a mind ; the author protests (p. 218 and note). Duhem says the national
spirit is not traceable in the greatest minds (Newton, e.g., and Gauss), and
it is in ordinary mentalities that you get monstrosities " tandis que les
grands genies realisent 1'ideal unique du genre human" (pp. 129, 130, see
the author's note, which points out that this idea treats mental species as
deviations round a uniform ideal type). The immense faculty of adapta-
tion shown by the human mind as it goes through life, e.g., in adopting a
profession, demonstrates what various resources are common to intelligences
as such. The author's ideal species is the pure type ; but his tabular
form shows hardly any such. And of the antithetic terms, proposed as
titles of exclusive types, most have been rejected as not reciprocally
exclusive. The species, even when morbid, are only cases of predominant
features, and I should urge, following Duhem, that the greatest minds are
the most many-sided. The author's account of Plato would not lead one to
surmise that a great critic (Walter Pater) has said of him what Gautier,
as the author reminds us, said of himself ; that he was one for whom the
external world really existed 1. I doubt, then, the whole conception of pure
natural species of intelligences, because an intelligence has open to it
the whole reality, it is always in a high degree many-sided, and you never
can tell what line within reality it may pursue.

BEENAED BOSANQUET.
1 Pater says " visible," Plato and Platonism, p. 114.

236 NEW BOOKS.

The Essentials of Mental Measurement. By WILLIAM BROWN and GODFREY
H. THOMSON. Cambridge University Press. Pp. viii + 216. 21s.
net.

This is a new and greatly enlarged edition of a book by Dr. William
Brown, published in 1911, which was again an expansion of a booklet
reviewed by the present writer in MIND, July, 1911. The new chapters,
writes Dr. Brown, are wholly the work of Dr. Thomson. They deal with
the Elementary Theory of Probability, Skewness and Heterogeneity in
Psychophysical data, the Influence of Selection, the Theory of General
Ability and a Sampling Theory of Ability.

These additions, and other revisions, greatly enhance the value of the
book, making it a much more complete account of recent developments
in the application of mathematical calculations to the study of mental
abilities and mental performance. The elementary theory of probability,
and the methods employed in various ways of measuring scatter, reliability,
etc., are discussed with admirable clearness.

The chief interest in the book to psychologists however will probably
lie in the extended treatment of correlation in Part II. and especially in
the full and lively discussion of the controversy which has been centred
round the problems of the hierarchy of correlation coefficients, and the
proof through that of a " general factor " in all mental performances.

The controversy, though strenuous and emphatic enough in its criticism
of Prof. Spearman's position, is preceded in the preface by a warm acknow-
ledgment of the " epoch-making " significance of Spearman's work in
the application of correlation to psychology. Dr. Thomson assails, on
several grounds, Spearman's view that the presence of a general factor is
proved by the hierarchy shown by sets of correlation coefficients. He
urges that while Spearman quite rightly asserts that a general factor would
produce a hierarchical order among coefficients, he has no right to reverse
the argument and conclude that the presence of hierarchical order proves
the existence of a general factor. Also, that while a series of group factors
may give no hierarchy, yet they will do so if the group factors overlap.
And in support of the view that the matter is more complicated than the
theory of one general ability factor would suggest, he points to other wide-
spread factors which others claim to have found, viz., Maxwell Garnett's
" cleverness and purpose " factor and E. Webb's " persistence of motives "
factor.

Furthermore Dr. Thomson has produced a series of correlation of
coefficients by experiments with dice, with conditions corresponding to
group factors, the arrangement of the group factors being decided by the
chance drawing of cards from a pack. And these correlation coefficients
gave an almost perfect hierarchical order.

Dr. Thomson even goes so far as to say that a hierarchy is the " natural "
relation among correlation coefficients on any theory whatever of the
cause of the correlation, though, I take it, he would not say this in
reference to correlations of orders arranged on the mere basis of chance
draws, without even group factors being involved.1

Dr. Thomson also uses his theory of groups of mental factors to explain
apparent " general ability ". The usual absence of a tranference of train-
ing effects from one activity to another activity (except to a very similar
one) he explains by suggesting that this specific improvement in a given

1 Dr. Thomson's reply to an inquiry of mine on this point confirms my
impression that he did not mean to suggest, as he has been understood to
do by another reviewer, that mere chance would produce a hierarchy in
the absence of all definite factors causing correlation.

NEW BOOKS. 237

activity is due largely to improved " team " work among the elements of
the group, and that when another group is formed partially of the same
factors, the improved co-ordination is lost, just as, when members of a foot-
ball team which has improved as a team are scattered among several teams,
the value of the team work training is largely lost.

The present reviewer would not presume to decide the problems of higher
mathematics at issue between Profs. Spearman and Thomson. Indeed it
is evident that even the expert mathematician must walk warily in inter-
preting correlations. It may be added, however, that from the psycho-
logical point of view it unhappily still remains true, as the present
reviewer wrote in the review of Dr. Brown's original booklet, that "the
doubtful accuracy of mathematical formula is scarcely more serious to
the statistician than the vagueness and variability which still remain in
the way of measuring some of the capacities among which correlations are
sought". Mental tests have been vastly developed and systematised
since 1911, but variations in the modes of application and in the inter-
pretation of results are still responsible for considerable variations in
correlation coefficients obtained by different workers.

That is, however, not the main concern of our authors. To the treat-
ment of the problems involved in advancing the mathematical aspect of
the work and in the co-ordination of mathematical results with psycho-
logical theory, they have in this book made a very notable contribution.

A very extensive bibliography is added.

C. W. VALENTINE.

La Musique et la vie Interieure : Essai d'une Histoire Psychologique de
Vart Musical. Par LUCIEN BOURGUES et ALEXANDRE DENEREAZ.
Paris VI., Alcan, 1921. Pp. xi, 586. (7J x 10 in.) 50 francs net.

This large work is illustrated with 983 musical examples, eighteen figures,
nineteen tables showing the musical influence of previous composers upon
a given great master and his influence upon his successors, and a plate
giving the dynamogenic curves of a number of pieces of music as the
authors feel them. It could hardly be called an indispensable work, but
it is certainly one that every serious student of music should see. Intimate
knowledge and enthusiastic love of music are evident on every page, and
the style is as musical as the words of discursive thought may be. The
writers' minds are evidently permeated with the problems of music and
they are eager to further their solution.

But the science they have at their command is quite inadequate for the
task. In character it is post-Helmholtzian, as the constant recourse to
harmonics shows, but it is nothing more. It is the ' science ' of music that a
student <of twenty to fifty years ago might have imbibed at a practical
school of music, with a dash of ' kinaesthesis,' cenesthesis, and tactile sen-
sations of the tympanum to give it relish. A law of diffusion of stimulus
in the brain ascribed to Alexander Bain of blessed memory — whose ghost
still walks some ancient galleries of thought in France — gives us dynamo-
geny ; and pleasure is dynamogeny. Fe"re is called upon to establish that
rising pitch gives more, and falling pitch less of this dynamogeny. Such
motor elements we learn are all that the composer can put into music — no
pictures or ideas or the like. Even the semi-circular canals are not for-
gotten as a modest idea to explain the puzzling trinity of parts in common
chords. Every harmonic in a tone is supposed to have its own series of
harmonics again : the authors have even reckoned out these harmonics of
harmonics and have totalled them to 15 dos, 12 sols, 10 mis, etc. Things
are bad enough as it is, but this welter of sounds outbabels Babel.

238 NEW BOOKS.

The musical analysis and discussion of the more complex problems are
often good on the ' psychological ' side and always stimulating to reflexion,
even if only as a counter-irritant. As an instance the problem of the dif-
ference between major and minor keys may be mentioned. But the theory
of resolution, by which every note is held to move to its successor by step
of a fourth or fifth is absurd ; for it requires the voices to cross in the
most hopelessly irregular way. It is equally absurd to suggest that every
dissonance is reducible to one or more ' rectified ' tritones — the tritone
b-f, for example, is supposed to resolve by b moving to e' and f to c'.
Surely the * conventional ' diatonic leading of the voices is not merely an
external appearance that is saved from being purely illusory merely be-
cause it is helpful to vocal execution. In this fundamental type of error,
however, the authors by no means stand alone.

Writers on music only too frequently blind themselves to basal facts by
ascribing them to the difficulties of vocal execution, rejoicing the while in
the fact that these difficulties no longer tyrannise over musical composition.
Nowadays every note can be played with equal ease on many instruments.
They forget to notice that the voice has no greater difficulty in singing
any one note than another. The difficulty for all instruments is to play
or rather to use musically some notes after certain other notes. This
musical difficulty — quite apart from any physical difficulty, say of a great
leap, that may exist — is largely a matter of ear ; and the ear's difficulty is
the difficulty the mind feels in passing from certain notes to some others.
And the difficulty of that mind-passage is there whether you listen to an
electric pianola or to your own voice. It helps to form the aesthetic value
of the work.

The second larger half of the book, characterising the great masters of
music, is full of interest, and — with various omissions — would in itself
make a stimulating volume of musical analysis.

HENRY J. WATT.

A Critical History of Greek Philosophy. By W. T. STAGE. London :
Macmillan & Co, 1920. Pp. xiv, 386.

When one has said that Mr. Stace's work is well-meant, one has said about
all that there is to say for it. The execution certainly does not warrant
the description of the book on the title-page as a " critical " history.
The author's method is to boil down Zeller, introducing from time to time,
in the earlier chapters, a few modifications from Burnet's Early Greek
Philosophy. The part of the book for which Early Greek Philosophy is
not available is mainly pure Zeller. Mr. Stace regards himself as thus, in
the main, reproducing what he frequently calls " the traditional " view.
Unfortunately on some very important matters, such as the real signifi-
cance of the figure of Socrates, and on a good many matters of secondary
moment, his "traditional" view does not mean that which has the sup-
port of continuous ancient tradition going back to men who were in a posi-
tion to know the historical facts, but merely the view which deference to
the authority of Zeller made customary in the nineteenth century, a very
different thing. A more serious defect is that Mr. Stace never thinks it
necessary to tell his readers what available sources of evidence there are
for the various parts of his narrative, and only rarely indicates the grounds
on which he arrives at his own conclusions about .debatable questions.
The accounts of the Sceptics and Neo-Platonists are so very misleading that
one suspects the author in this part of his work at any rate to be epitomis-
ing and sitting in judgment on what he has never read.

A. E. TAYLOR.

NEW BOOKS. 239

La Vita dello Spirito. By ARMANDO CARLINI. Florence : Vallecchi,
1921. Pp. 225.

L'Azione. By MAURICE BLONDEL, translated into Italian by ERNESTO
CODIGNOLA. Florence: Vallecchi, 1920. Vol. i., pp. 284; Vol. ii.,
pp. 371.

Signer Carlini's book had its origin in a course of lectures, delivered at
the University of Pisa in 1920-1921, and intended to expound some of the
concepts of present-day idealism, and show their greater concreteness and
more realistic character as compared with the older idealisms. If anyone
wants to ba introduced straightway into the motive, aim and direction
of the philosophical movement, — perhaps best described by linking together
four names, Bergson — Blondel — Croce — Gentile, he will find no better
propaedeutic than this. The author, whose valuable work on Locke we
noticed recently, gives us not a historical or biographical account of present
philosophers and their theories, but a lucid exposition of the leading con-
cept which underlies their different expressions — elan vital, action, spirito,
atto puro — a new concept of history.

The importance in this connexion of Blondel's concept, based like that
of Kant's Practical Reason on the Moral Law, is especially emphasised by
Signer Carlini. To most of us Blondel is no more than a name. His
book IS Action, recognised when it appeared in 1893 as a philosophical
work of the first order, a second edition being almost immediately called
for, unfortunately aroused such violent animosity in Catholic circles that
the author withdrew it, and so effectually that copies are now excessively
rare. (The Bodleian is believed to be the only public library to possess
one.) Against the author's wish, though not we understand actually in
defiance of his authority, a translation of it is included in the new series
of Philosophical Manuals, II Pensiero Moderno, now in course of publication
by Messrs. Vallecchi of Florence. The translator Signor Codignola is also
the general editor of the series. He says in a note : "I have been in-
duced to undertake this translation in the firm hope that to-day at last,
both without and within the Catholic church, our minds are better dis-
posed to understand one of the most powerful, most religious and most
profoundly human, voices in the whole history of philosophy".

H. WILDON CARR.

Contribution del Lenguaje a la Filosofia de los Valores. By JUAN
ZARAGUETA BENGOECHEA, with a Contestaci6n by E. SANZ Y ESCARTIN,
Count of Lizarraga. Madrid : Jaime Rates, 1920. Pp. 221.

The idea underlying Senor Zaragiieta Bengoechea's work is excellent and
worthy of all applause. There is much light to be thrown on philosophic
problems in general, and on the problem of values in particular, from the
study of language. For language reveals what ideas have so insistently
forced themselves upon human attention that words have had to be coined
to express them. It attests therefore the use and usefulness of an idea.
It proves also that common thought is often ages in advance of philosophic
' reflexion '. For example European .philosophy did not discover the
problem of the Self before Descartes ; but European languages had em-
ployed personal pronouns from the first. We may be sure then that a
philosophic problem recognised by language is a real problem. We may
take it also that though language is plastic and to be moulded by those
who master it, which is the reason why the intellectual development of a
people can be deduced from its language, its initial testimony is honest

240 NEW BOOKS.

and uncorrupted by sectarian prejudice. Decidedly then the exploration
of language should be one of the first steps in a philosophic inquiry. But
the exploration of language is apt to be sterile and even misleading, if it is
confined to a single language : for grammatical idioms are then easily
mistaken for necessities of thought. Languages should be studied com-
paratively to extract their thought-contact : it is then found that it is
precisely the differences and lacunae in the various languages, taken in
conjunction with the differences in the thinkers that use them, that are
most illuminating. His omission to compare the Spanish vocabulary of
valuation with that of other tongues is perhaps one reason why Senor
Zaragiieta's study is somewhat disappointing and leads to no very definite
conclusions. He has also cast his net too wide, making (somewhat cursory)
mention of all terms more or less directly connected with the human habit
of valuation. He would probably have elicited more if he had concentrated
upon the primary and essential values and studied them more profoundly
and in connexion with their equivalents in other languages. For the rest
his attitude is that of a Spanish ecclesiastic, competently trained in the
Louvain School of Philosophy under Cardinal Mercier, and the occasion
for his work was his reception into the Royal Academy of Moral and
Political Sciences.

F. C. S. SCHILLER.

Erlebnis und Wissen, Kritischer Gang durch die englische Psychologic.
By HANS RUIN. Helsingfors : Soderstrom & Co., 1921. Pp. 303.

This work consists of a rapid, not to say cursory, survey of English psy-
chology from Bacon and Hobbes to Bain and Spencer, with a chapter of
' parallels,' touching (lightly) on Herbart, Fechner, Lotze, Wundt, Taine,
Bergson, and James. It aims at showing that all attempts to represent
the mind as passive and to dispense with the self have failed, and are
bound to fail. There is nothing very new in its criticism of associationism,
and it also draws the conventional inference (apparently under the inspira-
tion of Husserl) that epistemological criticism is the presupposition of
psychology, and the only possible alternative to associationism. The
author, however, diverges from the conventional apriorism by combining
this conclusion with a preference for the Erlebnis of immediate experience
over reflective thought, and endeavours (faintly) to attribute a similar pre-
ference to Kant. It has evidently not occurred to him in the first place
that the antithesis of associationism and apriorism breaks down in so far as
Hume's psychology was a presupposition of Kant's problem, and, secondly,
that there is no valid inference from the falsity of associationism to the
truth of apriorism, because an alternative to both is thinkable and tenable.
For since both are (predominantly) intellectualistic, their joint fashion of
describing psychic processes has merely to be given up, to render it perfectly
possible to account in psychology for all the puzzles that were supposed to
demand a /iera/3ao-iff eis aXXo yevos, and a recourse to apriorist epistem-
ology. In other words, an activistic, voluntaristic, psychology is possible,
which is much more radically and faithfully empirical than the old
1 empiricism,' and free from its logical difficulties. Indeed this line of
thought would probably be much more congenial with the author's aim and
temperament than the merely negative attitude of apriorism, which regards
as spiritually valuable whatever it cannot understand : but he evidently
knows very little about modern pragmatism. He just alludes to it, includes
a few of James's books in his bibliography, and criticises his account of the
self ; but he has evidently overlooked the epistemological bearing of the
famous last chapter in the Principles of Psychology and the psychological
importance of starting from a psychic continuum instead of a heap of

NEW BOOKS. 241

' sensations '. Finally it may be noted that the work, though appearing in
German, is evidently a translation (presumably from the Swedish), effected
with the aid of the dictionary. This sometimes leads to curiosities, as on
page 104, where the thought to be conveyed is that ' Reid arbitrarily cut
down the sphere of consciousness ' ; unfortunately the word used does not
mean ' circumscribe '.

F. C. S. SCHILLER.

Received also : —

H. A. Reyburn, The Ethical Theory of Hegel, Oxford, Clarendon Press,

1921, pp. xx, 271.

G. Boas, An Analysis of Certain Theories of Truth (University of Cali-
fornia Publications in Philosophy, Vol. II., No. 6), Berkeley, Uni-
versity of California Press, 1921, pp. 104.
Sir H. Jones, A Faith that Enquires, The Gifford Lectures delivered in

the University of Glasgow in the years 1920 and 1921, London,

Macmillan & Co., Ltd., 1922, pp. x, 361.
R. W. Sellars, Evolutionary Naturalism, Chicago, Open Court Publishing

Co., 1922, pp. xiii, 343.
W. E. Johnson, Logic : Part II., Demonstrative Inference, Deductive and

Inductive, Cambridge University Press, 1922, pp. xx, 258.
G. F. Stout, The Nature of Universals and Propositions (British Academy,

Annual Philosophical Lecture, Henriette Hertz Trust), London,

H. Milford, pp. 18.
Jahrbuch fiir Philosophic und phanomenologische Forschung, edited by E.

Husserl, Vol. V., Halle a. d. S., M. Niemeyer, 1922, pp. ix, 628.
Sir H. Jones and J. H. Muirhead, The Life and Philosophy of Edward

Caird, Glasgow, Maclehose, Jackson & Co., 1921, pp. xi, 381.
B. Petronievics, L'Evolution Universelle, Paris, F. Alcan, 1921, pp. viii,

212.

M. Billia, Bisurrezione, Rome, Rassegna Nazionale, 1921, pp. 9.
P. Feldkeller, Graf Keyserlings Erkenntnisweg zum Ubersinnlichen,

Darmstadt, O. Reichl, 1922, pp. 191.
G. Gentile, The Theory of Mind as Pure Act, trans, by H. Wildon Carr,

London, Macmillan & Co., Ltd., 1922, pp. xxvii, 280.
J. M. Baldwin, Le Mtfdiat et L'Immediat, trans, by E. Philippi (Biblio-

theque de Philosophic Contemporaine), Paris, F. Alcan, 1921, pp.

xii, 324.
L. Laberthonniere, II Realismo Cristiano e L'Idealismo Greco, trans, by

P. Gobetti, Florence, VaUecchi, 1922, pp. 180.
H. Weyl, Space, Time, Matter, trans, by H. L. Brose, London, Methuen

& Co. Ltd., 1922, pp. xi, 330.
A. Aliotta, La Teoria di Einstein e le Mutevoli Prospettive del Mondo,

Palermo, R. Sandron, 1922, pp. 120.
E. Picard, La Theorie de la Relativite' et ses Applications a I' Astronomic,

Paris, Gauthier-Villars et Cie, 1922, pp. 27.
E. M. Lemeray, L'fither Actual et ses Pre'curseurs (Simple Recit), Paris,

Gauthier-Villars et Cie, 1922, pp. ix, 141.
E. Goblot, Le Systeme des Sciences, Le Vrai, V Intelligible, et le Re'el, Paris,

A. Colin, 1922, pp. 259.
E. H. Neville, Multilinear Functions of Direction, Cambridge University

Press, 1921, pp. 79.
W. H. R. Rivers, Instinct and the Unconscious, 2nd Edition, Cambridge

University Press, 1922, pp. viii, 277.

16

242 NEW BOOKS.

J. Pikler, Theorie der Empfindungsqualitdt als Abbildes des Reizes

(Schriften zur Anpassungstheorie des Empfindungsvorganges, Heft

4), Leipzig, J. A. Barth, 1922, pp. 107.
Handbuch psychologischer Hilfsmittel der psychiatrischen Diagnostik,

edited by O. Lipmann, Leipzig, J. A. Barth, 1922, pp. x, 297.
O. Jespersen, Language : Its Nature, Development and Origin, London,

G. Allen & Unwin, Ltd., pp. 448.
G. E. Shuttle-worth and W. A. Potts, Mentally Deficient Children, Their

Treatment and Training, 5th Edition, London, H. K. Lewis & Co.,

Ltd., 1922, pp. xviii, 317.
A. Wyatt Tilby, The Evolution of Consciousness, London, T. Fisher

Unwin, pp. 256.
F. Heinemann, Plotin, Leipzig, F. Meiner, 1921, pp. xiii, 318.

E. Gilson, Etudes de Philosophie Medievale (Publications de la Faculte"

des Lettres de 1'Universite' de Strasbourg, Fasc. 3), Strasbourg,

Palais de 1'Universite', 1921, pp. vii, 291.
A. Levi, La Filosofia di Giorgio Berkeley (Metafisica e Gnoseologia), Turin,

Fratelli Bocca, 1922, pp. 103.
X. Leon, Fichte et Son Temps, Vol. I. (1762-1799), Paris, A. Colin, 1922,

pp. xvi, 649.

F. Fiorentino, Compendio di Storia della Filosofia, Vol. II., Part I.,

Lafilosofia moderna, Florence, Vallecchi, 1922, pp. 358.
C. K. Ogden, I. A. Richards and James Wood, The Foundations of
Esthetics, London, G. Allen & Unwin, Ltd., 1922, pp. 92.

G. H. Jaques, A System of ^Esthetics, Vol. I., Dublin, 1921, pp. 165.

R. Eucken, The Spiritual Outlook of Europe, London, The Faith Press,

1922, pp. 96.
R. J. Fox, The Finding of Shiloh or The Mystery of God "Finished,"

London, C. Palmer, pp. xv, 371.

VII— PHILOSOPHICAL PEEIODICALS.

BRITISH JOURNAL OF PSYCHOLOGY. Vol. xi., Part 2. January, 1921
Henry Head, in a paper on " Disorders of Symbolic Thinking and Ex-
pression," records observations on patients suffering from brain lesions.
These observations and tests led him to conclude that a unilateral lesion
of the brain, affecting the use of language, disturbs a number of psychical
processes, which cannot be grouped under such headings as "speech,"
" reading," " writing," " motor," or " sensory " activities, or any other a
priori categories. He applies to them the term "symbolic thinking and
expression," because they consist mainly of the use of symbols in language
and in thought : but it is symbols used in a particular manner which are
affected, and not all symbolic representations. Yet the term is not a de-
finition, for this group of functions cannot be comprised within any single
general conception. The various manifestations of aphasia and allied dis-
orders of speech cannot be explained by destruction of sensory images.
These may remain intact, although they cannot be used voluntarily as
part of the symbolic mechanism of language. Finally Dr. Head concludes
that his researches show that the two aspects of meaning involved in the
use of symbols may be separated by suitable lesions of the brain. C.
Lloyd Morgan contributes an article on "Psychical Selection : Expres-
sion and Impression ". He discusses especially the psychology of sexual
attraction of birds, regarding the display of the male as instinctive in part
at least, there not being necessarily any intention to produce an effect ; the
" selection " by the female is regarded not as a type of choice, but as an
inevitable response to the more powerful stimulus. Expression is a sub-
species of behaviour differentiated from other modes of behaviour in that its
utility lies in the impression it produces on some other organism ; while
the impression is a sub-species of presentation differing from other presen-
tations in that what is presented is expressive behaviour on the part of
some other organism. That the same expression in the behaviour of
animals seems to us to produce in different situations very different be-
haviour on the part of the recipient of the behaviour impressions, is pro-
bably due to the fact that we consider these expressions in isolation from
their context, the animal in reality being ' ' responsive rather to the total
presented situation than to details ". In the " Nature of Verse " E. W.
Scripture describes an experiment which he undertook to settle a dispute
between two professors of Greek at Harvard and Yale as to the nature of
English verse, the former saying that it consisted of long and short syl-
lables, the 'latter that it was composed of loud and weak syllables. By
appropriate apparatus for recording vibrations due to speech Scripture
obtained records from which he concludes that the rhythm of verse depends
on loudness (or softness), length of syllable, and clearness of enunciation
and pitch, the stressed syllables being better enunciated and of higher
pitch W. Whately Smith in his " Experiments on Memory and Atfec-
tive Tone " estimated the affective value of words by the psycho-galvanic
reflex, the reaction time, and by Jung's reproduction test, the first proving
" by far the most delicate test of affective tone ". He concluded (1) that

244 PHILOSOPHICAL PEEIODICALS.

so far as the affective tone detected by the psycho-galvanic reflex is con-
cerned, its influence may be exerted in two diametrically opposite direc-
tions ; the fact that a given word evokes well-marked affective tone may
lead to its being better remembered than a less intensely toned word, or
may lead to its being forgotten more quickly. (2) The kind of affective
tone which is shown by Jung's reproduction test tends to impede the re-
membering of the words concerned. Affective tone which helps remem-
brances he calls " positive," that which hinders remembrance he calls
" negative " tone. The author explicitly leaves on one side the relation of
positive and negative tone to pleasant and unpleasant tones. Other
articles are as follows: Frank Watts, ''The Outlook for Vocational
Psychology"; Godfrey H. Thomson, "Report on the Selection of
Children for Higher Education at Hamburg" ; Carveth Read, "Critical
Notice of A. F. Shand's 'The Foundations of Character'". Part 3.
April, 1921. In an article on "Infantile Psyche, with special reference
to Visual Projection/' David Forsyth discusses the vivid visualisation of
young children, amounting as it does at times to hallucination. He sug-
gests that " a mere infant is unable to appreciate the essential difference
between objects which are seen in the outer world and those which are the
product of its own mechanism ". The reality of these latter is emphasised
by the reality of the emotions which give rise to them. Night fears are
not due to hallucinations, but awakening fear rouses memories associated
with fear and these memories are then projected as hallucinations, which
aie regarded as the cause of the fear. (In a later paragraph, however, the
writer attributes fear of the dark to visual hallucinations.) The paper
discusses also the relation of these characteristics of infantile mind to
Freud's pleasure and reality principles, to magic and the belief in spirits
and demons, and also deals with rationalisation in connexion with magic.
F. C. Bartlett contributes an article on "The Functions of Images".
The function of images was studied in the recall of pictures, and in the
association of signs with words. It was found that images reinstated
mainly by the aid of affective cues were vague and unanalysed, the function
of affection in reproduction being " to reinstate a situation rather than a
specific object ". The occurrence of definite visual imagery tended to set
up an attitude of confidence in the accuracy of the reproductions, both of
pictures and of signs, though this confidence was often unjustified. Re-
liance on visual imagery resulted especially in the forgetting of order of
succession ; those who relied on vocalisation of words were very accurate
in their memory of order. It is suggested that the primitive sensory
image is vague and schematic — contrary to the supposition that it is definite
a ad becomes vague and general through the repetition of varying impres-
sions. One function of the image seemed to be to reinforce the tendency
to prompt response ; its close connexion with emotion helped to supply
confidence, the substitution of words leading away from the " reinstate-
ment of material in close relation to emotions ". The other articles in the
number are as follows : H. Hartridge, " A Vindication of the Resonance
Hypothesis of Audition" ; J. C. Fliigel, " A Minor Study of Nyctopsis " ;
LI. Wynn Jones, "A Method of Measuring Nyctopsis, with some Re-
sults ; " S. M. Haggard, " A Case of Somnambulism " ; F. C. Bartlett,
" Critical Notice of C. Read's ' The Origin of Man and of his Supersti-
tions '" ; F. C. Bartlett, " Critical Notice of W. McDougall's ' The Group
Mind '" ; T. H. Pear, " Critical Notice of W. H. R. Rivers's ' Instinct
and the Unconscious ' ".

JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY, xviii. (1921), 11. M. T. McCIure. ' " Crises "
in the Life of Reason.' [Traces " the natural history of reason " in the phil-
osophy of Santayana.] M. Picard. ' The Co-ordinate Character of Feeling

PHILOSOPHICAL PERIODICALS. 245

and Cognition. ' [Concludes that " the case for feeling as a co-ordinate aspect
of conscious activity rests partly on the universal presence of one or both of
the affective qualities in all conscious states, partly on a certain independence
of cognition manifested by feeling in the production of moods".] F. R.
Bichowsky. ' The Basic Assumption of Experimental Science.' [Is merely
that the data of science "be organised into a logical system the laws of
which can be tested ".] xviii., 12. W. H. Sheldon. ' Prof. Dewey, the Pro-
tagonist of Democracy.' [Reviews Dewey 's ' Reconstruction in Philosophy,'
declaring that " his programme is a revolt against superiority," and defend-
ing " the spectator view of knowledge " by urging that the great philosophers
" wrote on ethics and politics and tried to influence the society of their day ".
Prof. Sheldon's attitude explains perhaps why Prof. Dewey finds Peking a
healthier place than New York ; but neither party to the dispute seems to
question the assumption that the American system is what it is called.]
J. J. Toohey. 'The Distribution of the Predicate.' [The traditional
doctrine is confuted by the validity of the partial inverse of an A proposi-
tion.] Q. Boas. ' A Source of the Plotinian Mysticism.' [Besides its
empirical root in the mystic vision it has another in the principle that only
the like knows the like. Hence, to know, the mind must intuitively ap-
prehend its object.] xviii. , 13. F. J. E. Woodbridge. ' Mind Discerned.'
[Concerning the relations of " mind in the transcendental sense, the sum
total and mere fact of existence," and "the mind which is studied in
psychology ". The former is a ' type of structure '.] M. Picard. ' The
Unity of Consciousness. ' [Argues that C. A. Strong's ' Origin of Conscious-
ness,' has shown that " there is no such unity ".] xviii., 14. [Not received.]
R. B. Perry. 'The Cognitive Interest and its Refinements.' K. S.
Quthrie. ' Rejoinder to Mr. Boas' attack on Guthrie's Plotinus.' xviii.,
15. S. L. Pressey. ' Empiricism versus Formalism in Work with Mental
Tests.' [Replies to Ruml in xviii. 7 and deprecates excess of statistical
elaboration.] A. J. Snow. 'A Note on the Role of Mathematics in
Physics.' [It is "not that of a discipline independent of facts, and
mathematics does not give us truth a priori ".] xviii. 16. J. M. Fletcher.
' Geneticism as a Heuristic Principle in Psychology.' [Geneticism is
historicism in psychology, and easily leads to a confusion of history and
valuation. It is open to six objections : (1) Continuity and the non-occur-
rence of novelty is a rationalistic logical postulate ; (2) The tracing of past
history is always arbitrarily arrested at some point ; (3) History is not the
sole determinant of value ; (4) Historical continuity is compatible with
radical change in function and meaning ; (5) Like ' analyticism, ' geneticism
falsely assumes that it can get back to a 'simple' ; (6) Whether or no
science is bound to ignore values, it must not confuse values and facts. ]
E. L. Schaub. The Annual Meeting of the Western Division of the
American Philosophical Association. D. Drake. ' Philosophy as Work and
Play.' [Philosophic problems are divisible into those which " have appreci-
able practical bearings " and " those whose solution would make no or slight
difference to practice ". The latter are 'play' and include metaphysics,
God, freedom and immortality ; they are justifiable amusements, though
it might be well if philosophers would devote a little more attention to the
rational ordering of human life.] xviii. 17. W. E. Ritter. ' The Need
of a New English Word to Express Relation in Living Nature, ' I. [Seeing
that "the Latin gradior upon which ' integration ' is founded " (sic /) is un-
satisfactory as the correlative of * differentiation/ ' conferentiation ' is
suggested.] T. L. Kelly and L. M. Terman. 'Dr. Ruml's Criticism of
Mental Test Methods.' [Cf. xvii.,3. Pleads that the assumptions attacked
are but the working hypotheses of an infant science.] xviii. 18. H. B.
Smith. 'A Spirit which Includes the Community.' [Protests, against
Sabin in xvii., 26, that " wherever there exists a conflict between points of

246 PHILOSOPHICAL PEEIODICALS.

view, there there is a mind".] W. E. Ritter. < The Need of a New
English Word to Express Relation in Living Nature,' II. [Illustrates
the need from the neuromusc.ular system, sex, love, and the American
Constitution.] xviii., 19. C. I. Lewis. ' The Structure of Logic and its
Relation to other Systems.' [Classifies logics as: (1) the 'traditional/
which claims to be both formal and " concerned with the actual modes of
right thinking " ; (2) the l modern ' which repudiates formalism, just because
it concerns itself with "the actual processes of right thinking" ; (3) the
'new,' which, to be formal, "renounces all attempts to portray" the
actual discovery of truth. The third does not regard deduction as a method
of proving truth and regards as nugatory attempts to establish incontro-
vertible truth by deductive procedures. For it ' logically prior ' only
means ' deductively more powerful ' or ' simpler '. The necessity of ' pre-
suppositions ' is often shown to mean only lack of imagination or ingenuity.
The possibility of a plurality of beginnings for a system and of a plurality
of equally cogent systems is recognised. All this holds of the fundamental
laws of logic also. They too cannot be proved, for all their ' proofs ' turn
out to be circular. " That the denial of a proposition leads to its reafnr-
mation, by no means establishes its truth." This is true also of false
propositions. A bad logic can be constructed, " in which reasoning badly
according to bad principles we get consistently bad results ". "A good
logic must be circular " ; but so is " all logic and pseudo-logic ". Illustra-
tions follow, e.g., it is not self contradictory that ' there are no propositions,'
and the ambiguities of ' presuppose ' are exposed. In short " no deductive
system, logic itself included, can justly claim to be demonstration of
certain truth from indispensable first principles," and the claim of "the
traditional a priori " is baseless.] D. W. Prall. * The Aesthetic Heresy.'
[' * The only source of value is a mind satisfied with a particular object in
its contemplation, and the only test of value is such satisfaction. All
value is thus essentially aesthetic."] xviii. 20. H. M. Kallen. ' America
and the Life of Reason.' [A brilliant paper on Santayana's Character
and Opinion in the United States.] E. B. Holt. ' On the Locus of Tele-
ology : A Rejoinder.' [To L. J. Henderson, cf. xvii., 16 and 14.] xviii.,
21. C. E. Ayres. ' Instinct and Capacity : I. The Instinct of Belief-in-
Instincts.' [Makes fun of the sociologists who attribute all social pheno-
mena to instincts instead of to institutions.] A. P. Brogan. 'A
Dilemma about Dilemmas.' [Replies to T. de Laguna's criticism of the
Complex Dilemma in xviii., 9 by showing that it holds only if ' or ' is
taken in the exclusive sense and that the best formal logicians, including
those mentioned by de Laguna, had expressly stipulated for a non-exclusive,
sense of 'or'.] H. M. Kallen. ' America and the Life of Reason, II.
[Deals more specifically with Santayana's treatment of James and Royce,
and hints that he was temperamentally unfit to understand either of
them.] xviii., 22. W. H. Sheldon. 'Is the Conservation of Energy

Proved of the Human Body ? ' [Shows that in all the experiments which

that all " human behaviour is the behaviour of institutions," and " civil-
isation is the determination of behaviour by prescription and taboo ".]
J. C. Gregory. ' The Group Spirit and the Fear of the Dead.' [" Primi-
tive fear of the dead had probably a complex origin, but . . . one of
its motives was expulsion from the group by the dread event of death
... he who was, when alive, a comrade of the group, might, when dead
and expelled, be intensely feared and bitterly hated." Why ?] xviii., 23.
R. C. Qivler. 'The Intellectual Significance of the Grasping Reflex.'
[An ultra-behaviourist attempt to trace mental development from the

PHILOSOPHICAL PERIODICALS. 247

infant's power to cling to a stick like a monkey which concludes that "the
weight of the evidence is overwhelmingly in favour of interpreting the
thought process as ... a neuro-muscular process, and not a cerebral
mystery".] T. L. Davis. ' The Sanity of Hamlet.' ["He was aware of
the essential principles of logic and used them consciously. He used them
excessively : that was his madness."] xviii., 24. Z. Z. Kuo. ' Giving
up Instincts in Psychology.' [Attacks instincts on behaviourist principles
as no better than * innate ideas ' and substitutes for them an endowment
with "a great number of units of reaction".] J. Dewey. 'Classicism
as an Evangel.' [The classic spirit was naive and unconscious in its ac-
ceptance of limitation by the actual ; no possibility of remoulding reality
had yet presented itself. But " modern class-conscious classicism " is "a
reversed romanticism" and is "preoccupied with salvation".] xviii., 25.
W. A. Brown. 'The Future of Philosophy as a University Study.'
[The philosophy professors are killing philosophy by narrow specialism and
neglecting its function of correlating and unifying the many sources of
knowledge. Moreover " the interest of thinking for thinking's sake, of
denning and redefining, analysing and reanalysing, controverting and re-
controverting, not for the sake of getting anything in particular accom-
plished by this elaborate paraphernalia but for the sake of showing that
you are cleverer than the other fellow at the game you are both playing
... is not capital enough on which to run the business of philosophy in
a modern university ".] R. M. Eaton. ' The Value of Theories.' [" The
chief value of a scientific construction is that it explains experience by
making it a consequence of a deductive system. Explanatory value is suf-
ficient to a theory ; truth, in the sense of factual truth, is not established
and is not a necessary value. Indeed those qualities which make a theory
a good explanation, generality and penetration beneath fact, are the very
qualities which stand in the way of proving its truth. . . . Further there
is no extraordinary type of logic which can be called inductive logic. . . .
The inductive and deductive methods coalesce." This omits the need for
the empirical verification of theoretic deductions.] xviii., 26. Q. Santa=
yana. ' On My Friendly Critics.' [Excellent banter, replete with epi-
grams and autobiographical touches. E.g., " Now that for some years my
body has not been visible in the places it used to haunt (my mind, even
then, being often elsewhere) my friends in America have fallen into the
habit of thinking of me as dead, and with characteristic haste and kind
ness, they are writing obituary notices, as it were, on my life and works ".]
M. Picard. 'A Discussion of Mind Discerned.'' [Woodbridge's article
in xviii., 13.] xix., 1. A. O. Lovejoy. 'Pragmatism and the New
Materialism.' [Attacks B. H. Bode's attempt to combine pragmatism and
behaviourism. Cf. xviii., 1, and xvii., 22, 23.] L. P. Boggs. ' A Partial
Analysis of Faith.' [The faith attitude " suspends all efforts and waits for
an inspiration or guiding thought to come ; if from within, we call it auto-
suggestion or intuition ; if from another, it is called suggestion ; if it ap-
pears to come from a divine source, it is prayer or an answer to prayer ".]
xix., 2. J. Dewey. 'An Analysis of Reflective Thought.' [Replies to
the criticism of his logic by L. Buermeyer in xvii., 25, explaining that
" induction I take to be a movement from facts to meaning ; deduction a
development of meanings, an exhibition of implications, while I hold that
the connexion between fact and meaning is made only by an act in the
ordinary physical sense of the word act, that is, by experiment involving
movement of the body and change in surrounding conditions. . . . Facts,
data, are logically speaking particulars, while meaning functions as a uni-
versal." There are no " ready-made or given particulars and universals,
data and meanings " . . . " the question for present knowledge is whether
the old case or rule is or is not applicable to the new one. Many of our

248 PHILOSOPHICAL PERIODICALS.

common errors come from assuming that what is known in some cases is
also knowledge for the case in hand."] J. R. Kantor. 'The Nervous
System, Psychological Fact or Fiction ? ' [Maintains that " a genuinely
critical search will reveal not a single valid principle of explanation which
psychology has derived from physiology ".]

LOGOS. RIVISTA INTERNATIONALE DI FILOSOFIA. Anno iv., Fasc. 2.
April-June, 1921. J. de Menasce. Essai d'une theorie du langage.
[The author's thesis is based on the view of Paulhan that man is a non-
social being forced by necessity to live in social conditions. Language is
not merely a means of inter-communication ; it is also, for the individual
man, a means of "fixing" his thought. Its social importance is not
merely that it enables us to impart and receive information, but that it
binds the utterer to his pledge. Hence the universal moral approval of
the man who never " goes back on his word ". The development of
language may take place in either of two directions. The effort may be
made — necessarily without final success — to communicate the intimately
personal and incommunicable, and thus the language of lyric poetry is
created : or the function of " fixing " thought may be developed, and then
we get the language of science. The speech of the ordinary man is inter-
mediate between these extremes, but as might be expected in view of the
moral importance of being able to " count on a man's word," the tendency
towards science preponderates over that to wards lyricism.] L. Limentani.
Roberto Ardigb. [A warm eloge pronounced at Palermo March 19th,
1921.] A. Aliotta. L'idealismo gnoseologico. [Traces the development
from the "empirical idealism " of Berkeley through the "transcendental "
or epistemological idealism of Kant and the attempts of Fichte, Schelling,
and Hegel to " transcend " Kant to the " absolute idealism " of our own
time. The article is directed more specially against Gentile. The
author's main point is that there is an uneliminated realism in all these
doctrines which prevents any of them from being really an "absolute "
idealism. Even Gentile is not really an "absolute" idealist since he
has to admit the existence of the conscious subject which, according to
him, cannot be an " object" of consciousness. Hence if his theory of
knowledge is true, his metaphysical doctrine that the "transcendent"
does not exist must be false. The author's own position is that the subject
is not " transcendent ". I have a direct awareness of my own mental life.
All attempts to make consciousness the activity of a "transcendent"
universal mind or of a consciousness which cannot be a known object to
itself are invalid. I could wish the question whether the kind of immedi-
ate awareness we have of ourselves is the same as that which we have of
anything else had been more fully discussed, and also that it had been
made clearer whether this awareness is supposed to be knowledge or to be
the foundation of knowledge.] Q. della Valle. I metodi della Teoriadel
Valore. [How do we come to know the various values of ethics, art, etc. ?
Not by a metaphysical deduction ; they are much more certain than any
metaphysical theory. Nor by a theological deduction ; for God is a
hypothesis constructed on the basis of antecedently known values. (This,
by the way seems to the writer of this notice glaringly false.) Nor by
deduction from the concept of reason as the end. Nor yet by induction
from facts ; this would lead to no absolute and objective values. Value
is a fact apprehended by direct introspection. Hence any theory of
values must be founded on psychological analysis. This analysis must
not be a mere description but must be analogous to the Kantian analysis
of knowledge. Kant's criticism, is, in fact, the first step to a more
general theory of values, since knowledge is only one among a vast
plurality of different and incommensurable values.] Reviews, etc. Anno

PHILOSOPHICAL PEEIODICALS. 249

iv., Fasc. 3, July- September, 1921. L. Rougier. Le mythe de la
"jRa&on" et la Science des structures mentales. [An attack on the
validity of non-empirical science of every kind. The author does not spare
even the principles of logic, which, are only rigidly valid ' ' for those who
please to construct that very special form of thought, a deductive theory,"
They only appear late in the history of thought, etc., etc. Henri Beyle
could never understand elementary algebra. We must therefore get rid
of our superstition about logic and replace it by a comparative study of
the " mental structures " of different lands and ages.] V. Miceli. La
scienza generate del diritto. [The author repeats his former contention
that there can be no such thing as a " philosophy of law ". What is pos-
sible is a study of existing law in its relation to social life. This is neither
pure jurisprudence nor pure sociology, but something between the two.
It has to consider, e.g., not merely what is ethically just, but which of the
obligations of justice may usefully be enforced by law in a given society.
Hence it cannot be created simply on a basis of ethics.] E. di Carlo. La
possibilita della filosofia del diritto. [A reply to Miceli. M. argues
that law is an empirical fact, therefore there can be no philosophy of law.
Why does he not apply the same argument to prove the impossibility of
Ethics? M.'s own treatment of law is itself "philosophical".] Q. H.
Bushnell. Midian. [In support of the theory that Moses derived his
religion from Midian ; the philological arguments strike a non-specialist
as nighty and the attempt to make Hebrew religion " phallic" as
ludicrous.] R. Pavese. Desiderio di sapere e misondisme. [" Miso-
neism " has a high social importance as inhibitory of our native curiosity.
Its function is to prevent hasty acceptance of novel hypotheses and the
immoral exploitation of " new ideas " for egoistic ends.] A. Aliotta. La
nuova filosofia dell' esperienza. [The "neutral" monism of the latest
realism does not really do away with the "vicious circle" of the old
empiricism which "new realism " is trying to avoid. It is, e.g., absurd to
attempt to derive subject and object from a process of adaptation to
environment, as Avenarius does. The duality which was to be got rid of
is already presupposed when we speak of the organism and its environment.
Actual experience always exhibits subject and object together. It is un-
meaning to assert the independence of either or to derive experience from
something which has not this character of duality in unity. The reality of
time is experience itself. But "real duration " is not simply a continuous
flow ; it involves also the recognition of the identity and the distinctness
of the different moments. Similarly the contrast of myself with others is
implicit in every moment of real experience. Experience is not only con-
crete thought but also action creative of new forms of being. Experiment,
action, "try and try again," is the only method both of science and
philosophy.] Q. della Valle. Le caratteristiche essenziali del Valore.
[Value is indefinable, but we can specify characters which belong to all
values. A value must be a conscious state ; it must be the result of a
free mental activity limited by universal and absolute rules. It is not
necessary that every value should be actually realised. The creation of
value is the fundamental task of the spirit by which it transforms chaos
into an ordered world. The specific activity by which values are created
is intuition, an "irreducible " activity which is neither rational, emotional
nor volitional.] Reviews.

REVUE NEO-SCOLASTIQUE DE I'HILOSOPHIE. xxiii Anne"e. No. 01.
August, 1921. E. Merschir, S.J. Berkeley est-il empiriste ou spiritual-
iste ? [The author's answer to the question is that Berkeley is both in
virtue of his principle that esse = percipere aut percipi. All attempts to
suppress either half of this principle falsify B.'s thought. B.'s philosophy

"250 PHILOSOPHICAL PEKIODICALS.

remains all through a dualism, and the reason of this is that he is not
critical enough ; he has too na'if a faith in human intelligence. A well-
informed, appreciative, and thoughtful essay. But is B.'s admission of a
duality (that of " ideas " and " notions ") really a dualism F] E. Janssens.
Reponse a un plaidoyer probabiliste. [Continues the criticisms of the
author's former article on probabilism with special reference to the reply
of P. Harmignie.j A. Bourgssonie. Les Principes de la Raison. [Con-
clusion. Discusses the principles of causality, natural law, " parcimony,"
•" teleology/' " type," "good".] A. Pelzer. Les Version latines d'Aris-
tote. [Notes on the authorship of the versions of the Ethica Nicomachea,
Ethica Eudemia, Magna Moralia, De Virtutibus < t Vitiis current in the
thirteenth century.] Notices of Books. No. 92. November, 1921.
Q. Legrand. Philosophic et sociologie juridique. [Traces the way in
which the general philosophical tendencies of different ages show them-
selves in jurisprudence with special reference to the thirteenth century,
the age of the French Revolution and the nineteenth century.] E.
Janssens. Reponse a un plaidoyer probabiliste (conclusion). [A con-
tinuation of the author's former article criticising " probabilism " as a
principle of casuistry.] A. Pelzer. Les versions latines des ouvrages
de morale conserves sous le nom d'Aristote en usage au xiiie siecle.
[Deals with the translation of the Nicomachean Ethics and the Byzantine
commentaries on that work attributed to Robert Grosseteste. The attribu-
tion is amply justified. It is certain that the versions were not made by
William of Morbeke, and the Henri Krosbein or Kosbein to whom they
•are sometimes assigned is probably a purely imaginary person. Grosseteste
supplements his renderings by rather full comments on the etymology and
meaning of many of Aristotle's technical terms. It is probably through
•his version that information of this kind reached St. Thomas and Albertus
Magnus. This has been often overlooked by those who have thought that
St. Thomas's knowledge on such points shows acquaintance with the Greek
•commentators.] M. de Wulf. La philosophie de maitre Eckhart. A.
Bacci. Philosophie et poesie dans le poeme de Dante. Reviews, etc.

RIVISTA DI FILOSOITA (Organo della Societa Filosofica Italiana^. Year
xiii., No. 2. April-June, 1921. L. Valli. Lo Spirito filosofico delle
•grandi stirpi umane. [The author's main thesis is that the critical spirit
from which all philosophy springs is peculiarly " Aryan ". An interesting
essay, but what about the facts ? It is assumed that Indian mysticism is
a purely " Aryan " development. Is this certain ? The Achaeans are
credited with introducing the Greek language and the critical spirit into
Hellas. What of the facts which seem to show that the lonians, the ad-
mitted creators of "science," were almost wholly of the old "Mediter-
ranean " stock ? Much stress is laid on the practice of cremation by
" Aryans ". But surely burial was as usual in Greece in historic times as
•cremation.] E. Buonaiuti. Filosofie e religione nella cultura con-
temporanea. [A brief address to the recent philosophical Congress at
Rome. The main point is that the attempts of the " immanence " and other
philosophies to find a substitute for God is a failure. Our age is 'in transi-
tion to a renewal of Christian experience. Hence the relative value of
pragmatism as an assertion that life is based on a faith which is prior to
all " dialectical" justification of itself.] A. Pagano. L'intuizione intel-
lettuale come momento dell' atto del giudizio. [The "intuition" of reality
is not a separate mental act which precedes and is presupposed by judg-
ment ; it is immanent in the most elementary judgment and can be dis-
covered there by analysis.] F. A. Ferrari. Molteplicita di direttive e
unita di progresso nella storia di filosofia. Critical notes. B. Jakorenko.
Lajilosojia del Bolscevismo. [" Bolshevism " is treated as a great mani-

I

PHILOSOPHICAL PEBIODICALS. 251

festation of the Russian spirit bound to lead to great philosophical de-
velopments. It is not mentioned that the Bolshevist Camarilla is mostly
Hebrew.] Q. Capone=Braga. Gli errori dell' esperienza internet, secondo
Condillac. B. Varisco. II valore spirituale della vittoria. E. di
Carlo. La c'risi dell' idealismo assoluto. Reviews, etc.

REVUE DE PHILOSOPHIE. September-October, 1921. H. Quetton.
Sainte Catherine de Genes et I' element Mystique de la Religion. [A
study of Baron von Hiigel's book, The Mystical Elements of Religion, etc.
This first article consists of a sketch of the life of St. Catharine of Genoa
whom von Hiigel takes as a type of the true mystic.] Pedro Descoqs.
La Theorie de la Matiere et de la Forme, et ses fondements. [The first of
an important series of articles on the present status of the theory of
Hylomorphism. The writer believes (with P. Sertillanges) that Matter
and Form, and not Actus and Potentia, is the foundation of the Thomist
system. After separating the essential from the unessential in the theory,
he shows that the old proof from the occurrence of substantial change in
the inorganic world, which was once considered sufficient by itself, can no
longer bs looked upon as valid, since such substantial changes cannot be
assumed to occur.] Emile Catzeflis. Spiritiialisme et Materialisme.
[An elaboration of the proof that the First Cause must possess the attri-
butes of Liberty and Consciousness, and must in consequence be a Spirit-
ual Being.] November-December, 1921. Jacques Chevalier. Morale et
Metaphysique. [This is the paper read by the author at the Oxford Con-
gress of 1920 ; to the paper are subjoined his answers to the criticisms
proposed during the discussion. He argues that the notion of morality,
which is possessed by all men, implies the recognition of an ideal and an
imperative ; and that these in turn imply the existence of a Supreme Good,
Who is the Supreme Legislator and Whose Law is the law of our nature.]
Paul Vignon. Pour hater la rentree en scene de I'lde'e en biologie trans-
formiste (ler article). [The writer wishes to see acknowledged by biologists
a pre-existent plan in accordance with which evolution is being worked out.
He rejects as insufficient the theory of transformism by small mutations,
even when helped by natural selection, and also the theory of saltations, if
these are assumed to occur by chance.] Pedro Descoqs. Latheorie de la
Matiere et de la Forme, et ses fondements (2e article). [In this article the
writer considers the instance of substantial change which occurs in nutrition.
He shows that the reality of prima materia cannot be proved therefrom
unless the (Scotist) theory of multiplicity of subordinated forms is ex-
cluded. Such an exclusion, he argues, has not been effected by any of the
arguments hitherto advanced, either a priori or a posteriori. Hence sub-
stantial change in the Scholastic sense cannot be used as the basis for a
certain proof of Hylomorphism. If this theory is to be raised above the
plane, of a physical hypothesis it must be disengaged from these physical
supports and made to rest on a metaphysical foundation. This is to be
attempted in the next article.] H. Guetton. Sainte Catherine de Genes
et Velement mystique de la religion (dernier article). [This article follows
Baron v. Hiigel in his discussion of St. Catharine's doctrine, her psychical
states, the characteristic tendencies of a mystic, and the relation of mystic-
ism to philosophy, the problem of evil, and pantheism. " Baron von
Hiigel has definitely shown that mysticism is not a defect but a most in-
timate communion of the soul with God, and that the mystics, far from
being malades, are to be counted . . . among the greatest benefactors of
the human race."] O. Habert. Nouveau conceptualisme, apropos d'un
lime, recent. [M. Emile Meyerson (author of the book referred to) is here
said to regard scientific theories as mental schemes imposed on Nature
and to contrast the static and general character of concepts with the

252 PHILOSOPHICAL PEEIODICALS.

dynamic and individual existence of things. The writer of the article re-
states the Thomistic theory of conception, substance, and individuation
as the reconciliation of these antinomies.]

INTERNATIONAL JOURNAL OF ETHICS, xxxii., 1. October, 1921. B. M.
Laing. ' Aspects of the Problem of Sovereignty.' [Outlines rise of the
idea of unity as the fundamental characteristic of the State, and of or-
ganisations within society now opposed to the State's claim to sovereignty ;
suggests that certain conditions compel the State to claim sovereignty,
while others may demand freedom for other social organisations ; hence
the core of the problem appears to be the determination of the objective
conditions which determine policy.] Rupert Clendon Lodge. ' Plato arid
the Moral Standard. ' [Examines critically Plato's views as to the stand-
ard applied by the philosophic judge to questions of ethical value ; shows
that many of the various criteria mentioned by Plato have only a limited
application ; leads to question ' is a given character in touch with objective
reality or not ? '] John Dashiell Stoops. ' The Will and the Instinct
of Sex. ' [Maintains that growth of powerful emotional complex is due to
dissociation of instinct and will ; suggests that through sublimation we
need to find in the instincts both the ends and the energy of the will.]
M. C. Otto. 'The Moral Education of Youth.' [Shows that the real
task is not that of teaching abstract rules but of developing a moral atti-
tude to actual situations ; criticises attempts to do this by moral instruc-
tion and suggests the importance of other methods.] Ethel E. Sabin.
' Mistaking America.' [Criticises and replies to article by J. O. P. Bland
who maintained that America is sentimental, dominated by feminine
ideals.] Frank Chapman Sharp. 'Is there a Universally Valid Moral
Standard ? ' [Maintains that there is — the production of the maximum of
good attainable under the conditions — analyses causes for deviations from
the impartial standpoint.]

VIIL— NOTES.
DR. LUTOSLAWSKI'S "THEORY OF PERSONALITY".

2 VIA CROCIFISSALTO,
SBTTIGNANO-FIBENZE, 22nd January, 1922.

SIR,

Dr. Lutoslawski in " A Theory of Personality " tells that in his
experience, as in the spiritual experience of many others, the conviction
of immortality had been a sudden revelation corning after years of mere
thinking on this matter, and of believing the testimony of others. The
views of others had not seemed definitively convincing but then came the
revelation which gave immediate intuitive certainty. I myself once had
an experience of this sort though not concerned with immortality, and an
account of what then and subsequently happened may be of interest to
philosophers.

I was at that moment, in consequence of some psychological observation,
led to think a great deal about the antinomy of rest and motion, and I was
trying to work out a theory concerning this. My occupation with this had
become so intense that for a week I had not gone to bed at all, but in the
intervals of speculation I used to nap for short pariods before the fire.
At last there came the moment when the antinomy resolved itself com-
pletely, not as a theory but as a revelation. The universe was there about
me as a coherent consistent whole. My own harmony and identification
with it was as complete as its own inner coherence. I was whate'er I
thought on and my thoughts went everywhere. I was mountain hill or
stream, bird beast or fish, ravening shark or sea-shouldering whale, all
things and everything.

I do not know how long this state lasted. When the vision, the feeling
of that which absolutely and completely was, had gone, I tried to
measure the value of that which was left over. Not at once, of course.
For the moment the vision splendid, and the void its disappearance
caused, were all my concern. But afterwards I found that its results were
solid gain. Of course I was not left with a satisfactory theory. My
revelation had transcended theory and could not be translated back into the
lesser medium. I had no theory but I had knowledge which was gold
beside the theory's silver.

So it continued for some time, a year or more, but one day as I was
meditating upon this, I came to have suspicions of a weak link in the chain
of process which had given me my greater truth. It seemed to me that
what I had done was exactly what the artist does when he creates, and
that the validity of my creation was akin to the validity of poem or
picture. The artist, as I then expressed it, comes to an equilibrium in
the face of a particular situation, while the mystic comes to an equilibrium
in the face of a total situation. In both cases the preliminary work of
gathering and meditating is checked by the inadequacy of the material so

254 NOTES.

taken, to satisfy the worker's needs. He cannot so bring the process to a
satisfactory conclusion. The " will " to form the stuff is there, and if the
stuff is malleable the form is given. The thing as thus reformed is then
found, and seems then like an absolute discovery. It is as though one
were expanding a balloon with the breath of one's lungs and failing in the
effort, at least in appearance, but that at last, when one has either in
despair abandoned it, or in final effort lost consciousness of it, the balloon
ascends, and we discover it, revealed to us in the heavens. It looks like
a balloon, it's located like a balloon, it certainly is a balloon, and as it was
previously shown that we could not blow up a balloon, it cannot be the
balloon that we were at work upon. None the less I think it is. In this
way was faith in my revelation weakened, and my faith in all other
revelations as well. Since then I think that verification is necessary to
make convincing my own revelations, and I am not inclined to value the
unsupported ones of other people at a higher rate.

The essential mechanism of revelation is, I believe, that of all imagery
formation. Imagery is the correlative of emotion. I believe that imagery
is related to emotion somewhat as " sensation " is to " feeling ". I find
that "sensations," when so taken together that the value is of the
togetherness and not of the particular " sensation," constitute " feeling ".
This feeling may exist independently of any definite sensation or sensory
object, or subordinate to such an one. In like wise I find that when there
is a stimulus to action, whether the action of thinking or some other,
which cannot unfold itself so rapidly as the stimuli accumulate, then there
follows the formation of images and emotions, images in so far as the sub-
stitute for action finds a focal point, and emotion in so far as it does not.
Here again there may be merely diffused emotion, or the emotion may be
subordinate to imagery. A " revelation " is such a focus when it is com-
prehensive enough, what I called above a total situation. It is singularly
convincing because the interest in it is so great, and because its compre-
hensiveness makes it difficult to circumvent. It persists if it is the kind
of thing that we continue to want.

It is furthermore u true " in the sense in which " Beauty is truth, truth
beauty," that is, the situation has the quality of a felt coherence. If it
were possible to have a proposition durably as comprehensive as this situa-
tion, that proposition would also be " true ". But even the mystics
admit that no such proposition is possible. Their ultimate truth is being,
not affirmation. Any proposition gains its truth value from the felt
situation, and when the felt situation is more comprehensive than the pro-
position, the proposition is not really equivalent to it and may be false.
It can have then the value of hypothesis, and it can have nothing more.

P.S. — This relation of emotion and image explains the Aristotelian
catharsis. The diffused emotions of fear and pity are replaced by the
tragic imagery. The purgation is the more complete because of the
effective canalisation afforded by the tragic evolution from beginning
through middle to end.

The tragic purgation when really effective, has the character of a
temporary conversion. Revelations, on the other hand, dealing with
situations more or less total, often produce a permanent catharsis. This
is excellently put in words by Dante when Beatrice says :
" lo son fatta da Dio, sua merce, tale,
Che la vostra miseria non mi tange,
Ne fiamma d'esto incendio non m'assale." l

1 " I am made such by God, in his grace, that your misery does not touch
me ; nor the flame of this burning assail me." — (Carlyle.)

NOTES. 255

Both fear and pity have been purged away and love purified remains the
only motive.

It is hardly necessary to add that what is true of tragedy and the
emotions of fear and pity is equally true for other qualities of art expres-
sion, and other interests in revelation and conversion.

LEO STEIN.

A CORRECTION.

MR. W. E. JOHNSON has pointed out to me that on page 7 of my Hertz
Lecture on " Universals and Propositions," I have misrepresented him and
even reversed his meaning. He says that he gave a flash of lightning not
as an instance of a substance but of what is not a substance. I am glad to
find that it is so and I regret the misunderstanding. There now remains
no point of importance in which I disagree with Mr. Johnsou's book ex-
cept his account of what constitutes generality. Perhaps the difference
even here may turn out to be less fundamental than it seems.

G. F. STOUT.
SCHULE DER GEISTESKUNDE.

HERR STAAK of Bernitt, near Biitzow (Mecklenburg) writes to the Uni-
versity of Manchester expressing his desire to enlist the co-operation of
English scholars in establishing a ' Schule der Geisteskunde, ' concerned
especially with higher mental development. He published at the begin-
ning of last year a chapter of his investigations^ called ' Aufbau der
hoheren geistigen Entwickelung, ' and he offers to place ten gratuitous
copies at the disposal of scholars in this country, who are interested in the
project.

, MIND ASSOCIATION.

THE Annual Meeting of the Mind Association will be held this year in
Manchester, at the University Arts Building, at 5 p.m. on Friday, 14th
July.

A Joint Session of the Association with the Aristotelian Society and
the British Psychological Society has been arranged to take place in Man-
chester from 14th to 17th July. Most of the papers read at this Session
will, in accordance with a resolution passed at the last annual meeting, be
published in the October number of MIND. Any member of the Associa-
tion may attend the Meetings and, on paying a fee of 5s., will be supplied
in advance with off-prints of the papers. Accommodation will be provided
for men at Hulme Hall, and for women at Ashburne Hall. The charge
for this from Friday dinner to Monday breakfast (inclusive) will be 27s.
For partial attendance the charges will be : Bedroom and Breakfast,
6s. 6d. per day ; Lunch, Is. 6d. ; Tea, 6d. ; Dinner, 3s. 6d. All meals
will be at Hulme Hall, except that breakfast will be at Ashburne Hall
for those staying there.

Members who wish to take part in the Session are requested to apply
as early as possible to

Prof. S. Alexander,

24 Brunswick Road,

Withington, Manchester,

enclosing, with their application, the fee of 5s., if they wish to have off-
prints, and stating what accommodation (if any) they require in Hulme

256 NOTES.

•or Ashburne Hall. The charge for accommodation should not be enclosed
with the application, but paid to the Bursar on leaving.
The Programme of Meetings is as follows : —

FRIDAY, UTH JULY.

At 5 p.m. At the University Arts Building. Annual Meeting of

the Mind Association.
At 9 p.m. At Hulme Hall.

" Symbolism as a Basis for Metaphysics." The Bishop of Man-
chester.

SATURDAY, 15xn JULY.

At 10 a.m. At the University Arts Building.

Symposium: "Are History and Science different kinds of
Knowledge ? " R. G. Collingwood, A. E. Taylor and F. 0. S.
Schiller.

At 10 a.m. and 2.30 p.m. At the University Psychological La-
boratory. Demonstrations and Papers.
At 9 p.m. At Hulme Hall.

Symposium: "Is the Unconscious a Conception of Value in
Psychology ? " G. C. Field, F. Aveling, and J. Laird.

.SUNDAY, 16TH JULY. At Hulme Hall.

At 2 p.m? Symposium: "The Relation between Sentiments and

Complexes". W. H. R. Rivers, A. G. Tansley, T. H. Pear,

Bernard Hart, A. F. Shand and C. S. Myers.
At 5 p.m. "Mr. Alexander's Theory of Sense Perception". G. F.

Stout.
At 9 p.m. Discussion on " The Philosophical Aspects of the Principle

of Relativity ". To be opened by A. N. Whitehead.

VOL. xxxi. No. 123.] DULY, 1922,

MIND

A QUARTERLY REVIEW

OF

PSYCHOLOGY AND PHILOSOPHY

L— THE PHILOSOPHY OF CHANCE.

BY F. Y. EDGEWOETH.

NEAELY forty years have elapsed since I contributed to
MIND, under the title now again employed, some reflections
suggested by Dr. Venn's Logic of Chance. The appearance
of another original work, inquiring into first principles and
challenging received opinions, Mr. Maynard Keynes' treatise
on Probability, now renders opportune a reconsideration of
views expressed in 1884.

The questions to be rehandled may be arranged under the
following heads : —

I. What is the definition of Probability ; what does Beflec-
tion (in Locke's sense) reveal respecting that sort of partial
belief to which the term Probability relates ?

II. Should that kind of belief be attached to propositions
other than those based on statistical experience ; on the ob-
servation that in the long run the frequency of a species (e.g.,
male births) presents approximately a certain ratio to the
frequency of its genus (e.g., births in general) ?

III. With respect to probabilities which are thus based on
statistical uniformities, "series" in Dr. Venn's phrase,
what canons are available for proving that the series will
hold good beyond the limits within which it has been ob-
served ?

IV. What is the bearing of the Probability-Calculus on
conduct ; what guidance is afforded by that compound of
prospective advantage and the probability of its attainment
which is technically termed Expectation ?

17

258 F. Y. EDGE WORTH:

I. CHARACTERISTICS OF PROBABILITY.

Probability seems not to admit of definition. " We can-
not analyse the probability-relation in terms of simpler ideas "
(Keynes, p. 8). It is, in Locke's phraseology, a simple idea.
Yet it is not so simple and clear but that doubts about its
characteristics have arisen.

First, are there gradations of probability ; can we measure
degrees of belief? I am not concerned to defend the
numerical precision of the measurement. We may be con-
tent with the conception of measurement which satisfies the
physicists. As Prof. Love writes : " The capacity of numbers
to answer questions of how many and how much, in other
words to express the results of counting and measuring, may
be regarded as a secondary property derived from the more
fundamental one of expressing order. . . . Natural numbers
form a series with a definite order, and the expressions
' greater than ' and ' less than ' mean more advanced and less
advanced in this order " (Article on " Functions of Real Vari-
ables," Encyclopedia Britannica, edn. x., p. 544, vol. 28. Com-
pare Eddington, Space, Time and Gravitation, quoted in part
below). In short the issue is narrowed to the question whether
it is always possible " to arrange probabilities in an order of
magnitude," to say that one is greater or less than another
(p. 29). The issue thus defined is not affected by the in-
stances which Mr. Keynes directs against the possibility of
"reasoned numerical estimates of probability"; such as the
case of the vessel Waratah which disappeared in Southern
waters and the estimate of the chance that it was still afloat
after a considerable lapse of time (p. 23). Even the most
discriminating of our senses, eyesight, often affords only
blurred and vague perceptions. A common experience was
expressed by Euripides' Antigone when, looking from the
battlements of Thebes at one of the invading chiefs, she
said

opw 8fJT 'ov crcK^co?, 6pa) Be TTO)?. (Phoenissce, 161.)

From a similar standpoint Priam might discern that one
hero was taller than another without being able to form a
" reasoned numerical estimate" of their heights. But Mr.
Keynes objects to even rough comparisons between proba-
bilities unless they are in eodem genere. "It is not always
possible to say that the degree of our rational belief in
one conclusion is either equal to greater or less than the
degree of our belief in another" (p. 34). The case is illus-
trated by the degrees of similarity which cannot always be
placed in an order of magnitude. " There may be no com-

THE PHILOSOPHY OF CHANCE. 259

parison between the degree of similarity which exists be-
tween books bound in red morocco and white morocco and
books bound in red morocco and red calf " (p. 36). I am
disposed fco attach importance to the incident that in the
scale of probability (whatever the subject) there is at least
one fixed point or tract between complete disbelief and per-
fect certitude ; that corresponding to hesitation between two
courses of action which offer equal gain there are comparable
probabilities of its attainment. But Mr. Keynes would per-
haps not admit these objections (p. 30).

Supposing that different amounts of belief can be arranged
in a scale, does this presuppose a " series " in Dr. Venn's
sense? Must we say with him "the greater part of their
meaning and certainly their only justification are to be
sought in the series of corresponding events to which they
belong" (Logic of Chance, edn. 3, p. 150)? Must we say
with Ellis: " I have been unable to sever the judgment that
one event is more likely than another from the belief that in
the long run it will occur more frequently " (quoted by
Keynes, p. 93) ? Mr. Keynes argues forcibly against this
"frequency theory": which even when purified from the
assumption of numerical precision and other crudities appears
to him untenable. Whereas probability is always relative
to definite data, if the datum consists of a " class of refer-
ence"— what I have above described as a "genus" — how
are we to know what class is appropriate, when a given pro-
position belongs to innumerable different classes ? I under-
stand the difficulty to be of the kind which Dr. Venn has
illustrated by the case of the consumptive Englishman in
Madeira. Which set of statistics is appropriate— those re-
lating to Englishmen in general, or to consumptive patients
without respect to nationality ? So it may happen with re-
spect to the measurement of time that one has to depend
upon two clocks neither of which keeps good time. Yet
common-sense may conjecture which of the two, or what
combination of the two, will give the best approximation to
the true time. The discrepancy between bad clocks, and
that more embarrassing discrepancy between the best
clocks moved through space at different rates which the
Einstein theory discloses, do not deter the physicist from
relying on his chronometer. Thus Prof. Eddington testifies :
" I have no notion of time except as the measurement with
some kind of clock " (Space, Time and Gravitation, p. 13).
He is speaking, I think, with reference to the deliberate
judgments of science. He would not insist, I suppose, that
we always think of a clock in connexion with estimates of

260 F. Y. EDGEWORTH:

duration, for instance when we hastily judge that there is or
is not time to cross a street before a (< taxi " will be on us.
The Sultan who, as told in the Spectator (June 18, 1711),
seemed to himself to have lived through years during the
few moments for which he held his head under water was
not estimating the lapse of time by any objective measure of
duration. Dr. Venn allows similar exceptions to the rule
that probability implies reference to a series (op. cit., p. 152).
The exceptions are less important than might be expected
in virtue of a conception of which Mr. Keynes has not made
much use, that of " Cross-series " (Venn, op. cit., pp. 147-148).
" We are very seldom called upon to decide and act upon a
single contingency which cannot be viewed as being one of a
series." " A man, say, buys a life annuity, insures his life on
a railway journey, puts into a lottery, and so on." It may
be expected, I think, that the class of actions which cannot
be regarded as part of a " series " will diminish with the in-
crease of providence and sympathy (MiND, loc. cit., p. 224).

From considering the normal character of belief we pass
by an easy transition to the standard and tests of credibility.
Probability, as Mr. Keynes rightly insists, is ever relative to
some assumed premisses. A premiss may be subjective such
as the belief in one's own existence. But the relation be-
tween the premiss and what may with more or less proba-
bility be inferred from it is " rational" or "objective" (pp.
8, 16, 97, et passim}. I have suggested (MiND, loc. cit., p. 225),
that the first principles of credibility are like those of conduct
which according to Mill do not admit of proof in the ordinary
sense. "Considerations may be presented capable of de-
termining the intellect either to give or withhold its assent "
(Utilitarianism, p. 6, cp. p. 52). I must leave it to
philosophers to enounce the considerations proper to the
standard of credibility. Perhaps they will be found analogous
to Hume's reflections upon The Standard of Taste : showing
that amidst " the great variety of taste as well as of opinion "
. . . "there are certain general principles . . . whose influ-
ence a careful mind may trace " (Essays, Green and Grose's
edition, Vol. i., pp. 266, 271). More objective judgments no
doubt are available when the scale of probabilities is finely
graduated and the degrees are verified by observed frequency
of occurrence.

II. A PRIORI PROBABILITY.

Some test of credibility seems to be required when we go
on to consider the legitimacy of probabilities based on the

THE PHILOSOPHY OF CHANCE. 261

so-called principle of Sufficient Reason (which Mr. Keynes
prefers to call the principle of " Indifference ") without
statistical verification by way of a " series ". I have con-
tended that Dr. Venn has gone too far in his scepticism with
respect to these d priori probabilities. This contention now
derives powerful support from Mr. Keynes' dialectic. He
too maintains that Dr. Venn's scepticism goes too far (Keynes,
p. 52). He has laid down rules for purifying this source of
belief from the contradictions and anomalies with which it
has been mixed (p. 61 and context). He points out that Dr.
Venn is not consistent in his scepticism (Keynes, p. 100). To
the passage in the Logic of Chance which Mr. Keynes adduces
I may add the following. Seeking an analogue for the sporadic
distribution of digits in the decimal places of the constant TT,
Dr. Venn supposes that we have a rod or line which we want
to measure with the utmost accuracy. " We lay our rod
against the scale and find it, say, fall between 31 and
32 inches ; we then look at the next division of the scale,
viz., that into tenths of an inch. Can we see the slightest
reason why the number of these tenths should be other than
independent of the number of whole inches ? " (op. cit., p. 112.
The italics are mine.) For another example, "we should
expect rather than otherwise to find here (in a square root),
as in the case of TT, that incommensurability and resultant
randomness of order in the digits was the rule, and com-
mensurability was the exception " (op. cit, p. 113). Now this
sporadic distribution of digits is just the sort of assumption
which I have postulated under the designation of " d priori,"
or better " unverified," probability (cp., Article on Probability,
Encyclopedia Britannica, edition 11, §§ 6, 132).

The principle is of wide application in Economics and
other branches of Social Science. Thus Prof. Pigou relies
on a presumption of the nature of "unverified probability "
that " conclusions about the effect of an economic cause upon
economic welfare will hold good also of the effect on total
welfare" (Wealth and Welfare, p. 11). In a recent review
of Mr. Keynes' Probability he rests on the same sort of
evidence the assumption that " curves of demand and supply
are likely to be continuous," that there is " some definite
relation between the elasticity of demand at a point taken
as known and the elasticity at neighbouring points " (Econo-
mic Journal, vol. xxxi. (1921), p. 512). I have submitted
other examples in several numbers of the Economic Journal,
to which references may be found in the Journal of the Royal
Statistical Society at a passage in which I point out that
d priori probabilities are involved in a generally accepted

262 F. Y. EDGEWOETH :

argument concerning the distribution of velocities in a medley
of colliding molecules (vol. Ixxxiv., 1921, p. 81 ; cp., 1922,
vol. Ixxxv., p. 483).

It may be observed that in general, for instance in all the
applications which have just been noticed, the use of a priori
probabilities has no connexion with inverse probability.
That conjunction does occur in one very important branch of
Probabilities — that which deals with errors-of-observation.
As Laplace remarks (Essai Philosophique), this is the part of
our science which involves the most difficult and delicate
analysis. The treatment of this subject was one of the
principal objects to which his great work, The'orie analytique
des probabilites was directed (loc. cit.}.

A very simple illustration of the problems involved will be
sufficient here. Let there be given several observations each
standing for, purporting to be, the measure of some magnitude
— such as a distance or an angle — which it is required to
ascertain. Thus to measure a required length, e.g., a sur-
veyor's base-line,

X2 Xrt Xx X3

X

let OXu OX2 . . . OXn be n observations numbered, say, in
the order of time in which they occurred. It is required to
combine these observations so as to obtain the best value of
OX the qucesitum.

There is to be distinguished the special case (connected
with the name of Bernoulli) in which the observations stand
(not as above for an absolute magnitude, but) for a ratio, e.g.,
that of the black balls to all the balls in an urn containing
only black and white balls. Thus OXj might stand for the
percentage of black balls in a sample numbering a hundred
taken at random from, such an urn (each ball being returned
to the urn after it has been drawn, unless the number of
balls in the urn is indefinitely great) ; OX2 would stand for
the percentage presented by another sample, and so on. It
is required to combine these observations so as to determine
OX the ratio of black to white balls in the urn.

It is commonly taken for granted that a priori one value
of OX is as likely to be the true value as any other. But
there may sometimes be reason for doubting this. We may
know beforehand the whereabouts of the qucesitum ; in which
case d priori equi-probability could only be predicated of a
certain tract of values, say a portion of the horizontal line
through O. A more exact statement is given below.

THE PHILOSOPHY OF CHANCE. 263

In the shadowy world of a priori probabilities our author
has made some remarkable explorations which are relevant
to the problems now before us. First, in the special case
above distinguished, he argues that the distribution of a priori
probabilities is not, as commonly assumed by the classical
writers, the equi-probability of each ratio, but that of each
" constitution " in Boole's sense (p. 57). It follows that " an
approximately equal number of black and white balls is
d priori more probable than a large excess of one colour"
(p. 50; cp., Boole, Laws of Thought, p. 370). Again, still
with reference to our special case, c being a character com-
pounded of a and b between which there is no association, if
x is the probability of a, y of b, #, the probability of c, = xy.
Then if all values of x and likewise of y between certain
limits are equally probable, the values of z are not so distri-
buted (p. 381). Likewise, in the general case, if one variable,
say specific volume, has its values equally distributed d priori,
then a variable which is a function of the first one, say
specific density, does not so distribute its values (pp. 45-46.
Cp., Encyclopedia Britannica, Art. Probability, § 8).

These objections to commonly made assumptions are of
considerable philosophical interest. But their practical im-
portance with reference to the Theory of Errors is less than
might be supposed for more than one reason.

First, when the magnitude for whose various values we
claim equal probability is very large in comparison with the
tract through which it varies, then it comes to much the
same whether the equi-probability is claimed for the magni-
tude itself or for some (ordinary) function thereof — the square,
or square root, or reciprocal, etc. For example, suppose it is
sought to determine with precision the length of a pendulum
known to within a tenth of an inch to be about a yard long.
On the plausible assumption that the period of the pendulum
(the time occupied by an oscillation) is d priori as likely to
have one value as another (in the immediate neighbourhood
of that period which corresponds to a pendulum a yard long),
the d priori probabilities for the pendulum's length will not
be distributed with perfect equality. Whereas the period is
proportionate to the square-root of the pendulum's length, it
may be shown that the probability of the pendulum having
an assigned length I, meaning thereby a length between I and
/ + SI, where 81 is a very small degree of length, is not simply
aSl where a is a constant (as it would be if the distribution
were perfectly equal), but is proportional to the reciprocal of
the square root of I = say 6S\ -f- ^/l, where b is a constant.
Now by hypothesis, say, I lies between 36 + '1 inches and

264 F. Y. EDGEWOBTH:

36 - •!. Whence it is deducible that b -r \/l differs from
b -T- 6 by less than '14 per cent, thereof. Accordingly the
probability of I being the true value is very nearly SI multi-
plied by a constant ; the d priori probabilities of the different
values are practically equal.

A more general and important reason for the neglect of
ci priori probabilities in dealing with observations arises
from the circumstance that, commonly and except when they
are very unequal, they are masked and overruled by the
a posteriori evidence which the observations afford if ob-
tained in sufficient numbers. The matter is well put by
Mill with reference to the case which we have distinguished
as special. He is enquiring whether a certain event, such
as a succession of aces, has been produced by accident, or
by the alternative cause, loading of the dice. " We may be
able to form a conjecture as to the antecedent probability
(of loading) . . . but it would clearly be impossible to
estimate that probability with anything like numerical pre-
cision. The counter-probability, however, that of the acci-
dental origin of the coincidence, dwindling so soon as it does
at each new trial, the stage is soon reached at which the
chance of unfairness in the die, however small in itself, must
be greater than that of a casual coincidence " (Logic, Book
III., ch. xviii., § 6). Compare Bertrand's example of the
inaccurate roulette-table (Ency. Brit., loc. tit., § 46). The
suppression of a priori probabilities, as we may call the
incident explained by Mill, was almost simultaneously pointed
out by Cournot (Exposition de la Theorie des Chances, 1843,
§ 95). It is recognised by Mr. Keynes (p. 388). It is ex-
tended by the present writer to the general case of magni-
tudes other than ratios (A priori Probabilities, Philosophical
Magazine, 1884, vol. xvii., p. 204 ; cp., Journal of the Eoyal
Statistical Society, 1908, vol. Ixxi., pp. 387, 392). The reason-
ing does not require the d- priori values of the tract with which
we are concerned to be very nearly equal ; it suffices that
they should not be very unequal (Ency. Brit., loc. cit., §§
8, 46). Even when a correction is prescribed by what is
known about a priori probability, the correction is in general
of an order which becomes negligible as the number of
observations increases. In the common case of numerous
observations the role of a priori probabilities might be il-
lustrated by that of testimony as to the antecedents of
candidates at a competitive examination for appointments
not requiring special qualifications. A great number of
candidates might be practically equal as to nationality,
absence of any damaging record, and other antecedents.

THE PHILOSOPHY OF CHANCE. 265

The appointments would usually be given to those who did
best at the examination; but occasionally the antecedents
might affect the selection.

The assumptions involved in the usual treatment of errors-
of-observation have been well stated by Mr. Keynes (p. 191,
vt seq.}. Indeed, as I have pointed out elsewhere (Journ.
Stat Soc., 1922, p. Ill), he has made a notable contribution
to the mathematics of the subject; thereby vindicating a
right to criticise the methods of the calculus which is hardly
to be allowed to the mere logician. But I think he does
not do justice to a very important application of the doctrine
of errors, the method of sampling as now practised, by Dr.
Bowley in particular. Here the ratios or other measure-
ments of magnitude which the sample presents are treated
as observations from which to ascend to the corresponding
quantities for the total or "universe" from which the sample
is taken at random. The danger attending statistical infer-
ence which our author so much dreads is here at a mini-
mum. The inductive leap from the known to the un-
known is particularly short ; the suppression of cu priori
probabilities may be relied on if the sampling is thoroughly
performed.

It is not irrelevant to remark that the suppression of
d priority has some bearing on a controversy which has exer-
cised great minds, concerning the so-called Kule of Succession.
The unmeasured ridicule which is poured upon this Rule is
deserved only when it is applied to " any experience however
limited" and purports to prove that " if B has been seen to
accompany A twice, it is two to one that B will accompany
A on A's next appearance " (p. 82. Cp.t p. 28, note; p. 377,
et seq.}. But when the relevant a priori probabilities (p. 376)
are overruled by the number of the observations, as may be
shown by the reasoning above cited, the Eule of Succession
is by no means so absurd. I am not sure but that it may
still be used in the edifice of inductive science, not indeed as
a foundation, but as one of the cross-beams in that compli-
cated structure (MiND, p. 235). If so, with reference to
large numbers of instances as supporting induction we may
still say of the Eule in question with Sir John Herschel : " It
is never without its instruction to trace this sort of parallel
between mental impressions and abstract numerical relations "
{Edinburgh Beview, 1850, vol. xcii., p. 7; Essays, p, 376).
I am not much moved by the objection that in this view
Probabilities are made to support Induction, while Induction
is required to support Probabilities. Two methods by their
consilience may archwise mutually support each other. At

266 F. Y. EDGEWOBTH:

least the consistency of first principles may be shown by
such demonstrations (cp., Ency. Brit., loc. cit., § 25).

It remains to examine the logical basis of the & priori
probabilities which we have been considering. I have main-
tained that the ground of those beliefs is a very wide ex-
perience, perhaps of the unconscious and even antenatal
species, which some prefer to call intuitive knowledge (MiND,
p. 229). This view is, I hope, not inconsistent with Mr.
Keynes* description of the judgments derived from the
Principle of Indifference as "direct" (pp. 53, 65, 70, 316).
Provided that the cogency of the evidence is granted, I do-
not much mind what it is called. On the issue between
intuitive and empirical with respect to the propositions in
question, I am disposed to repeat what Sir John Herschel
has said, in his review of Whewell's Philosophy, with respect,
to the issue in other cases: " it seems far from certain that
this opposition of views is anything more than apparent. . . .
On either view of the subject the mind of man is represented
as in harmony with universal nature " (Quarterly Beview,
184; Essaijs, p. 152). The followers of Mill may with the
less scruple admit the language of intuitionism in the case
before us since it is not claimed for a priori probabilities that
they are "necessary " in a sense implying that they dispense
with, and are not liable to be modified by the addition of,
empirical evidence. It is agreed that a priori probability is
generally negligible in comparison with the evidence of re-
peated observations — like the starlight which precedes and
fades into the light of day.

III. THE LOGIC OF STATISTICS.

A priori probabilities not used in the same sense as in
our second section are closely connected with our third
section. The d priori propositions now relevant are prior
not to all positive or specific experience, but only to that
experience which forms the apparent immediate foundation
of an induction. The inductions to be considered are those
which establish the truth of those quantified generalisations
which are presented by Statistics and by Dr. Venn called
probability " series ". There seems to be no essential differ-
ence between this statistical inference and the induction
which establishes ordinary universal generalisations (cp.,
Keynes, ch. xxvii. and p. 391). My only contribution to this
logic is to insist, with Mill and others, on the part played
in all our inductions by pre-existing knowledge (cp., Mill,
Logic, Book III., ch. iii., § 3; ch. iv., §§ 2, 3). This sub-

THE PHILOSOPHY OF CHANCE. 267

stratum may consist of the so-called direct or intuitive-
generalisations considered in our second section ; or of gen-
eralisations which are the outcome of experience in the
ordinary sense. Both kinds of pre-existent knowledge were
noticed in MIND, 1884 ; and more explicitly with reference
to statistical inference in a paper written a year later. Ar>
" abscission of certain antecedents as immaterial is constantly
going on in inductive logic by ... an almost unconscious pro-
cess. It is presupposed in every act of the Method of Differ-
ence. The chemist rejects historical events as immaterial ;
the historian the conjuncture of the stars. There is in
each case a vast substructure of previous knowledge of the-
connexion between things; not very prominent perhaps in
treatises on logic, yet constituting the foundations of wisdom "
(Journal of the Royal Statistical Society, December, 1885).
So Dr. Marshall in an address on the " Graphical Method of
Statistics " (in the Jubilee number of the same Journal, 1885)
directs us to estimate the nature of the dependence of an
observed event A on each of the possible causes B, C, D . . . ;
" our reason making use of that abstract and essence of past
experience which is on the one side science and on the other
practical instinct".

The view that pre-existing knowledge plays a great part
in induction is convincingly reaffirmed by Mr. Keynes. It
is well illustrated by the supposed irrationality of primitive-
peoples ; really due to their want of previous relevant know-
ledge. Thus "it is a curious superstition" of a tribe in
Borneo, as described by a recent pioneer, " to attribute any-
thing that happens to them to something novel which has
arrived in their country " ; for instance intensely hot weather
to the pioneer's arrival. " What is this curious superstition
but the Method of Difference," pertinently asks Mr. Keynes.

Behind the inductive methods are the more essential prin-
ciples of analogy or likeness, pure induction or repetition.
Pure induction avails not without some finite initial proba-
bility in favour of the generalisation, obtained from some-
other source than the instances examined (pp. 238, 295, 302:
et passim). A " finite probability," it should be explained,,
is " one which exceeds some numerical probability the ratio
of which to certainty can be expressed by a finite number"
(p. 237). It would come to the same, as I understand, to
take as the condition that an indefinitely great a priori im-
probability does not attach to the generalisation which it is
sought to prove. Or perhaps the latter statement is not
equally stringent. For Mr. Keynes appears to rule out as-
not satisfying his condition a generalisation connecting the

268 F. Y. EDGEWOBTH:

weights of babies with their Christian names (p. 426). Yet
no extreme improbability attaches to that generalisation.
Certain Christian names popular among families of a par-
ticular race or sect might predominate among particular
sections of the population. The inherited qualities of the
race, or the habits enjoined by the faith, might be attended
with peculiarities in vital statistics generally and in particular
as to the weight of babies. So easy an explanation might
not always be forthcoming. But, as in the case of conjuring
tricks which we cannot explain, there may be a general a
priori probability that there is an intelligible explanation.
Of course it would not be contended that the observed uni-
formity would hold good outside the environment within
which it was observed ; it would not be true in every country
that certain Christian names are attended with certain
peculiarities of infant life. Parents could not even in the
observed country secure that their children should be fat
and well-liking by giving them names correlated with weight
above the average. I concede to Mr. Keynes that the mathe-
matical method of correlation as usually understood and
practised does not avail to prove more than empirical general-
isations.

But I think that he has somewhat underrated the power
of the method to establish such generalisations. He puts a
case which does not bring into action that grip of quantita-
tive data which is characteristic of the mathematical method.
Let us vary his illustration by imagining that there is
observed a connexion between the number of ounces that an
infant weighs and the number of letters in its name or names,
on the supposition that the average infant has several names.
Say the average number of letters is considerable, well above
a dozen ; and construct a table showing the frequency with
which each number of letters in the full name is associated
with each number of ounces in the weight of an infant. Sup-
pose that this construction fulfils accurately the conditions of
a normal frequency -surf ace with correlation-coefficient large
and positive (cp., Yule, Theory of Statistics, ch. ix.). Let
the number of observations be large ; and let the grouping
pass triumphantly the criteria which may be applied to test
whether it conforms to a normal error-surface. The case
would thus present a complex and close resemblance to the
more perfect exemplifications of normal correlation which
are exhibited in recent treatises on Statistics. It may be
expected therefore that our case will also resemble those ex-
amples in a certain stability, such that if you examine some
fresh instances — in addition to the mass of observations

THE PHILOSOPHY OF CHANCE. 269

which evidenced normal correlation — the fresh batch would
present much the same connexion between the attributes
(in the case before us length of name and number of ounces)
as was observed in the original large group. The inference,
I think, would come under one of Mr. Keynes' general
canons : that the more comprehensive the characteristics in
which the instances are similar the stronger is the proba-
bility of the generalisation we seek to establish (p. 219).

Mr. Keynes has carried much further his enquiry concern-
ing the nature and functions of analogy and induction. But
I do not propose to follow him into this obscure region;
which lies somewhat apart from the topics which are here
reconsidered. But there is one tenet of the higher Logic
which cannot be passed over by a writer on Chance. As
the "peering eye of philosophy" is strained to explore the
origins of knowledge there is dimly discerned a first prin-
ciple which is of momentous interest to the student of Prob-
abilities : " The character of material laws on which scientists,
appear commonly to act, seems to me much less simple than
the bare principle of Uniformity (as to whi9h see pp. 226,
255, 263). They appear to assume something much more
like what mathematicians call the principle of the super-
position of small effects, or, as I prefer to call it, in this con-
nexion, the atomic character of natural law. The system of
the material universe must consist, if this kind of assumption
is warranted, of bodies which we may term (without any
implication as to their size being conveyed thereby) legal
atoms, such that each of them exercises its own separate
independent and invariable effect, a change of the total state-
being compounded of a number of separate changes each of
which is due to a separate portion of the preceding state "
(p. 249).

Whatever the claims of this principle to be characteristic
of the universe, it is at least congruous with the nature of
things in so far as it postulates conditions required by, or at
least conducive to, the realisation of a law which is or tends,
to be approximately realised throughout wide fields of ex-
istence, the "normal law of error". I so designate that
grouping of statistics about their average, that relation be-
tween the extent of a deviation and its frequency, which
Galton and many modern statisticians have made familiar.
It seems best to restrict the term " law " in this connexion
to the conception of that relation, the form of the curve (or,,
in more complicated cases, surface) which represents the
grouping ; as distinguished from the proposition which may
be called the " theory " of error, that, given certain conditions,

^70 F. Y. EDGEWOKTH:

the law will be realised. To which perhaps should be
-added the proposition (without which the theory would have
no practical importance) that the conditions are fairly often
fulfilled in rerum naturd, sufficiently well for the (approxi-
mate) realisation of the normal law of error. The theory is
to be distinguished from the doctrine, the false doctrine, that
generally, wherever there is a curve with single apex repre-
senting a group of statistics — one axis denoting size, the
other axis frequency — that curve must be of the " normal "
species. The doctrine has been nicknamed " Quetelismus,"
on the ground that Quetelet exaggerated the prevalence of
the normal law.

The conditions proper to the fulfilment of the normal law
by a variable magnitude are two-fold : that it should depend
upon a number of causes, and that those causes should be
independent of each other. Or rather, as the term " inde-
pendent " is here to be taken in each of two senses, there are
three conditions : (1) The quantity conforming to the normal
law should be a compound, composed of numerous constituent
•elements ; (2) each element should fluctuate independently
(in the sense proper to Probabilities) of the others ; (3) the
•composition should be simple, the compound being a sum
of the elements (or a sum of components each of which de-
pends on — is a function of — a single element). The last
two conditions are given by Mr. Keynes' axioms. In criti-
cising the statistical side of his treatise (in the Statistical
Society's Journal, 1922) I have complained that he has not
•adequately recognised the leading law of Statistics, the.
theory of error. I have now to add that he makes amends
for that omission by showing the prevalence of the condi-
tions which underlie that theory.

The significance of the conditions may be exhibited by
considering their more or less perfect fulfilment in different
.spheres. With respect to errors-of-observation, errors
proper as they may be called (as distinguished from " errors "
used generically for deviations from an average), I quote
from a high authority on Probabilities, Morgan Crofton
(author of the article on the Theory of Probability in the
ninth edition of the Encyclopedia Britannica). He is main-
taining the hypothesis (consonant with our theory) that
'" errors (of observation) in rerum naturd result from the
superposition of a large number of minuter errors arising
from a number of independent sources ". He proceeds : " In
coarse and rude observations the errors proceed from a very
.few principal causes, and in this case, consequently, our
hypothesis will probably represent the facts only imperfectly,

THE PHILOSOPHY OF CHANCE. 271

and the frequency of the errors will only approximate roughly
and vaguely to the law which follows from it " [referring to
the normal law of error]. ..." When these few capital
occasions of error were removed "... astronomers " found
that not three or four, but a great number of minor sources
of error, of nearly co-ordinate importance, began to reveal
themselves . . . errors of their adjustments ; errors (techni-
cally so called) of observation [? due to the imperfection of
the observer's senses] ; errors from change of temperature, of
weather, from slight irregular motions and vibrations ; in
short, the thousand minute disturbing influences with which
modern astronomers are familiar." But "it is not enough
for us to show that each error in practice is compounded
of a large number of smaller errors ; we must also show that
they are independent, at least for the most part". Admitting
that some of the errors may be interdependent he yet sums
up "we may at least safely conclude that the hypothesis in
question is not a mere arbitrary assumption, but a reasonable
and probable account of what does in fact take place " (Trans-
actions of the Royal Society, 1870, pp. 175-177). This con-
clusion is in accordance with the " atomic character of natural
law" postulated by Mr. Keynes. It is assumed not that
there is never correlation between the phenomena, but that
"for the most part," or at least in good part, independence
prevails. A similar explanation is available in a neighbour-
ing department within which the normal law of error may
be expected and is found — the distribution of shot marks on
a target. , The varying causes affecting the aim are like to
those enumerated by Crofton ; and there are additional in-
dependent causes affecting the flight of the bullet however
well aimed, inequalities of charge, tremors of the air and so
forth. If the barrel of a rifle is fixed firmly, and successive
shots are fired so as to hit a target at some distance, it is
found that the bullet-marks are dispersed ; owing to the opera-
tion of the latter class of causes only. It is presumable that
a like plurality of independent causes operates in a third
class of instances, the organs and attributes of natural species,
for instance the height of adult males in a homogeneous
population, or other measurements as tabulated by a Galton
or Pearson. The causation by which the magnitudes of in-
herited attributes are distributed may perhaps be illustrated
by a sort of heredity which occurs in a fourth sphere favour-
able to the genesis of the law-of-error, the movement of
molecules in a free gas. The velocity of a molecule at any
time maybe regarded as the offspring of two parent velo-
cities, namely the velocity of the molecule itself before its

272 F. Y. EDGEWOETH:

latest collision with another, and the velocity of that other
before the collision. The two parents were likewise sprung
each from two parents ; and so on. The velocities of the
system at any moment may be regarded as simply com-
pounded of numerous elements fluctuating independently
(cp., "Applications of Probability to the Movement of Gas
Molecules," Philosophical Magazine, Sept. 1920 ; and
" Molecular Statistics," Journal of the Eoyal Statistical
Society, Jan. 1921). It is no wonder therefore that the law-
of-error should be found in great perfection in a medley of
molecules ; visible to the eye of reason, and almost to the
natural eye through their action upon visible granules
(" Brownian " movements).

This theory deserves the attention of philosophers as
affording a particularly unequivocal and striking instance of
positive knowledge that seems to be obtained d priori or by
intuition. It seems as if "it might have been certainly
known to be true independent of experience " ; what Whewell
claims for the Newtonian first law of motion. Of course
Whewell did not mean that we obtain the particulars of any
instance d priori. Through sensation, or from some other
empirical source, we ascertain the minor premiss that there
is no obstacle impeding the motion of a certain body ; and
then by the first law of motion given d priori we conclude
that the body will go on moving at a constant rate. The
theory is not falsified because in everyday life we do not
often meet with a vacuum. So in the theory now under
consideration what is supposed to be given d priori is not
the fact that a certain magnitude is a compound of numerous
constituent elements, but that, if it is a compound, the com-
ponents will be independent of each other " for the most
part " as Crofton has it, or at least adequately for the genesis-
of the law of error when the number of components is con-
siderable. The fact that the normal law of error is not very
commonly realised in great perfection is not fatal to the
theory of error as here defined, but only to the false doctrine
of " Quetelismus ". Where only " a very few principal
causes," in Morgan Crof ton's phrase, are present, there, as
he admits, " our hypothesis will probably represent the facts
but imperfectly ".

We have thus a new instance of d priori evidence claimed
for propositions outside pure mathematics and metaphysics.
The new instance is more striking and paradoxical than the
one presented by the Principle of Sufficient Keason. For
no one can doubt but that the propositions now before us —
the fact for instance that the heights of an adult male popu-

THE PHILOSOPHY OF CHANCE. 273

lation conform to a certain simple formula — are matters of
fact rather than relations of ideas — to use the antithesis
strongly marked by Hume when denning the province of
experience (Concerning human intellect : Sceptical doubts,
pars. 1 and 2 et passim). That positive knowledge should
be deducible from axioms of a seemingly metaphysical char-
acter is certainly most remarkable. We seem to be revert-
ing from modern physics to the natural philosophy of the
ancient Greeks. But the anomaly and anachronism disappear
if the second instance, as well as the first (MiND, loc. cit,
p. 229), is explained as a case of induction, induction of the
kind which Mill regards as adequate to support the proposi-
tions claimed by Whewell as a priori : "experimental proof
crowds in upon us in such endless profusion, and without
one instance in which there can be even a suspicion of an
exception to the rule " (Logic, Book II., ch. vi., § 4).

IV. APPLICATION OF PROBABILITIES TO CONDUCT.

The use of "mathematical expectation" as a guide to
conduct is the principal application which we have to consider.
" In order to obtain a measure of what ought to be our pre-
ference in regard to various alternative courses of action we
must sum for each course of action a series of terms made
up of the amounts of good which may attach to each of its
possible consequences, each multiplied by its appropriate
probability " (p. 311). Against this maxim Mr. Keynes
brings three objections of which the first two appear not
very formidable.

First, there is renewed with respect to the product of
probability and prospective good a difficulty which we have
already encountered — and, I trust, overcome — the difficulty
ascribed to the want of numerical precision. " Normal
ethical theory at the present day, if there can be said to be
any such, makes two assumptions : first, that degrees of
goodness are numerically measurable and arithmetically
additive, and second, that degrees of probability also are
numerically measurable " (p. 311). There seems to be here
set up, in order to be knocked down, a somewhat exaggerated
claim on behalf of utilitarian ethics. With respect to the
second factor of Expectation, viz., Probability, we need not
postulate greater precision than we have already claimed
on the model of physical mensuration as interpreted by Profs.
Eddington and Love. The authority of Poincare may be
quoted for treating satisfaction (subjective good) in the same
spirit. In a letter to Walras (the mathematical economist)

18

274 F. Y. EDGEWORTH:

the great mathematician rules : " Satisfaction then is a
magnitude, but not a measurable magnitude ". But it is not
" par cela seul exclue de toute speculation mathematique "
(see Economic Journal, 1915, p. 57, for reference and fuller
quotation). It deserves, indeed, to be considered whether,
when we are dealing with this subjective quantity, the use
of a unit such as I 'have proposed (Mathematical Psychics,
Part II.), namely the " just perceivable increment " (of
pleasurable feeling), does not come to much the same as the
use of subdivisions analogous to those employed by Prof.
Eddington with respect to physical quantity. " The sub-
division," he writes, "must be continued until the meshes
are so small that all points in one mesh can be considered
identical within the limits of experimental detection " (Space,
Time and Gravitation, p. 77). But without insisting on these
refinements, is it not evident that without having more
exact relations than those of "more" and "less" we can
infer that the product of a and b, ab, is greater than a/3 if it
is given that a>a, b>/3 ? We can make this inference even
without the second datum, if it is known that a is very much
greater than a, while b is known not to be much greater than
/3. As before about magnitudes of one dimension, may there
not be clear perceptions of greater and less without numerical
precision ? To go back to the heroic age, if Priam saw that
Ajax was taller and broader than the other Greeks, would he
not perceive that the area subtended by the figure of Ajax
was greater than that of the others ? Might he not have
observed the same of Ulysses compared with Agamemnon, if
the former, though (slightly) shorter, had been (very much)
broader than the latter :- —

aev K.€<ba\r)v 'A"yafJL€fJ.vovos 'ArpetSao,

(Iliad III., 193-4.)

A second difficulty is raised in connexion with what is
termed the "Weight" of a probability. "Weight" is de-
fined by the statement that " an accession of new evidence
increases the weight of an argument " (ch. vi.). How should
we be influenced in our choice of a course of action by
the " weight " of that probability which is a factor of the
Expectation ? The question may be answered in terms of
the analogy presented by the theory of errors-of-observation.
Suppose that there are given a finite number of observations,
which it is required to combine so as to obtain the best pos-
sible value for the object under measurement. It is not
necessary with our author to fix attention on the most pro-
bable value, and the probable error as measured therefrom

THE PHILOSOPHY OF CHANCE. 275

(p. 74). It is better, as I have elsewhere pointed out, with
Laplace to seek, not that combination of the given observa-
tions which is most probably (most frequently in the long
run of similar data) right, but the one which, minimising the
detriment incident to the use of fallible observations, maxi-
mises the Expectation of useful results. In short there is
applied to the treatment of observations the principle which
should govern all conduct considered as part of a "series," a
rule to be universally adopted. The significance of Laplace's
conception appears in Simon Newcomb's estimates of the
" Good " and " Evil " pertaining to astronomical observations
{American Journal of Mathematics, vol. viii., no. 4). As
a first-rate mathematical economist the great astronomer was
prepared to handle quantities less definite and measureable
than the objective magnitudes with which the physicist has
usually to deal. In the common case of numerous observa-
tions mathematical theory affords an index of the detriment.
In general that detriment increases with the increase, and
decreases with the decrease, of the " spread " or " scatter "
of the observations as defined by the mean square of their
deviation from the true point. Thus in the example given
in our Section II. (if OX = x) the mean square of deviation is

{(x - xtf + (x - z2)2 + . . . + (x - xnY} ~ n.

Now let us suppose that the mean square pertaining to
{observations made with) a particular instrument has been
ascertained from a long series of trials prior to the measure-
ment for which we have to prescribe. The longer the series
(ceteris paribus\ the more accurate will be the determination
of the mean square of error. Let us take the reciprocal of
the mean square as index of the worth of a measurement
with that instrument (what is called " weight" by Lap-
lace and his followers) ; and let us say that the "evidential
weight" (Keynes, ch. vi.) of "worth" is greater the more
extensive the previous experience on which it is based. Then
of two instruments or methods of measurement for which
the ostensible worth is the same that one is to be preferred
for which the evidential weight is greater. But, if there is a
difference in worth as well as in evidential weight, it is con-
ceivable that a measurement of somewhat less worth but
considerably greater evidential weight than another might be
preferable to that other/ I leave it to the reader to construct
an analogue of this mathematical theory applicable to or-
dinary life.

It will be found, I think, that the second objection only
gives us pause when it is associated with the third, that

276 F. Y. EDGEWOETH:

which arises when an action is regarded as solitary, not
forming part of a long run or "series". To exhibit this
difficulty is, I think, the main purport of the Petersburg
problem ; though not the only lesson which it conveys. The
problem is thus stated by Mr. Keynes : " Peter engages to
pay Paul one shilling if a head appears at the first toss of a
coin, two shillings if it does not appear until the second, and
in general 2r~1 shillings if no head appears until the rth
toss. What is the value of Paul's expectation?" (p. 316).
The mathematical answer is : if the number of tosses is not
in any case to exceed n in all, %n shillings ; and if this
restriction is removed, an infinite sum. Mr. Keynes appears
to great advantage in the discussion of this problem ; his
logical acumen enhanced by his unusually wide acquaintance
with the foreign literature of Probabilities. I take as a text
for some general reflexions his summary of the different
reasons which have been assigned for the fact that (n being
large) no sensible person would give for Paul's chances
anything like the mathematical expectation. " Each of the
above solutions probably contains a great part of the psycho-
logical explanation. We are unwilling to be Paul partly
because we do not believe Peter will pay us if we have good
fortune in the tossing, partly because we do not know what
we should do with so much money or sand or hydrogen if we
won it, partly because we do not believe we ever should win
it. and partly because we do not think it would be a rational
act to risk an infinite sum or even a very large sum for an
infinitely larger one whose attainment is infinitely unlikely '"
(p. 319).

I take these points in the order of the summary.

We do not believe that Peter will pay us a sum which
may be vastly in excess of his means. This objection is met
by the ingenious suggestion which Mr. Keynes cites from a
foreign authority that the stakes should be (not shillings or
francs, but) grains of sand or molecules of hydrogen (p. 317).

We should not know what to do with so much money or
sand, we might have a surfeit of winnings, by reason of the
law of diminishing utility ; which was, I believe, first formu-
lated in connexion with the Petersburg problem. Keferring
to the law that the value of a sum of money to a man varies
with the amount he already possesses, Mr. Keynes asks
" Does the value of an amount of goodness also vary in this
way? May it not be true that the addition of a given
good to a man who already enjoys much good is less good
than its bestowal on a man who has little ? " (p. 320). This
recalls the precept of the late Cohen Stuart for dis-

THE PHILOSOPHY OF CHANCE. 277

tributing the burden of taxation ; that each taxpayer should
forgo, not an equal amount of satisfaction, but, an equal
percentage of the total satisfaction which he derives from his
income (see Economic Journal, 1897, p. 559 and context).
Cohen Stuart's criterion has been adopted by some sensible
persons, notably Prof. Seligman, and the late Leonard
Courtney.

We do not believe that our winnings will ever be immense,
if we hold with D'Alembert and Dr. Marbe (pp. 317, 365)
that long runs are not only very improbable, but do not
occur at all. Experiment gives no colour of verification to
this statement. Yet a priori on grounds of general ex-
perience I am prepared to find that some sort of periodicity
in the manner of making the experiments, the way of pro-
jecting the coin, for instance, would result in a certain
correlation between the observations; and accordingly that
the convergence of the average, and likewise the frequency
of runs, would not be exactly what the regulation formula
enounces (in terms of n the total number of tosses). This
consideration would not indeed rule out indefinitely long
runs. Still, as Dr. Venn observes in this connexion (op. cit.,

E. 83), " there are so many instances in nature of proposed
LWS which hold within narrow limits but get egregiously
astray when we attempt to push them to great lengths, that
we must give at best but a qualified assent to the formula ".
Accordingly I am not disposed with Mr. Keynes to dismiss
as trivial the observations obtained by recording the results
of trials made with instruments of chance (p. 366). This
experience may satisfy not merely "a certain idle curiosity,"
but also a certain scientific interest. One would like to
know, for instance, the explanation of the difference between
the results of Prof. Pearson's and Dr. Marbe's investigations.
The former, on examining 33,000 coups at the roulette table
of Monte Carlo, found the frequency of long runs greatly
in excess of the regulation proportion ; the latter, on ex-
amining 80,000 coups, found that the long runs were greatly
in defect (p. 365).

The lesson which the Petersburg problem is specially
adapted to convey is connected with the third and most
serious of the objections to the use of mathematical expect-
ation as the guide of action. It is seen to be no longer a
safe guide in the case of transactions which cannot be re-
garded as forming part of a "series" in Dr. Venn's sense.
How far the proposed case is from fulfilling that condition
will appear if we consider what changes of statement would
be required in order to render the problem amenable to the

278 R Y. EDGEWORTH:

calculus of probabilities. We should suppose that the offer
made to Paul is renewed from time to time ; say repeated
every day throughout a whole year. Also the amount that
he can possibly win on any one day should be finite and
moderate. Say, Peter will give the same as before in case
Head turns up at the first, second, third, or fourth toss ; but
that if it turns up after the fourth toss, however long after —
however long the run of Tails — Peter will still give no more
than he will give if Head turns up at the fourth toss, that
is, 8s. Then Paul's Expectation is shown by the following
scheme : —

Winnings ... 1 2 4 8
Probability . -£ J £ £

Multiplying each figure on the upper line by the correspond-
ing figure on the lower line, and adding the products, we
obtain for the amount which Paul may expect to win in the
course of the year 2'5 x 365 = 912'5s. It may be shown
that the odds against his winnings not falling below 730s. in
the year are thousands to one. He might count on not
losing if he offered 2s. a day for the expectation ; on gaining
materially if he offered only Is. 6d. Now restore the terms
beyond the fourth toss ; and as before let Paul have a chance
of 1 in 16 of winning 8s., 1 in 32 of winning 16s., and so on.
There will reappear prospects which cannot be fitted into a
" series ". A fortiori if the number of days on which the
trial is made were smaller. In such a case it is rightly de-
cided, I think, by Mr. Keynes that " even if we are able to
range goods in order of magnitude and also their probabilities
in an order of magnitude," yet it does not follow that the
product of each good and the corresponding probability is the
measure of expediency, or " oughtness". "A new direct
judgment " may be required to combine properly the judg-
ment of goodness and the judgment of probability (p. 316).

Now to which type, the Petersburg problem or our
curtailed version thereof, do actions in real life belong mostly ?
The former is certainly altogether unparalleled. The latter
too appears extreme in the opposite sense. " Series," and
still less " cross-series/' are not so perfect as to make the
realisation of the mathematical expectation a practical
certainty. In private life occasions occur requiring that we
should act for the nonce so to speak, or at least without
anticipating a succession of similar actions which would
afford a practical certainty of advantage in the long run. In
public life the same sort of choice may occur. Two persons
may agree as to the ends which are desirable. • They may

THE PHILOSOPHY OF CHANCE. 279

agree too as to the probability that certain means, say some
very progressive measure, will bring about the desired ends.
Yet they may differ as to the advisability of adopting those
means. One may think the other a fool. But there is no
recognised canon of wisdom whereby to test folly in such
cases. Utilitarian philosophy has been too silent about this
difficulty.

CONCLUSION.

As the outcome of the preceding discussions the following
summary answers to the enquiries stated at the outset are in
conclusion submitted : —

(1) That probability in general presents gradations has
not been disproved. It seems usually possible to arrange
probabilities relating to different cases, if in eodem genere, in
an order of magnitude, to say that one is greater than
another. The examples adduced by Mr. Keynes show,
indeed, that the degrees of belief are often few and far from
fine. Thus when we cannot forecast the weather, the baro-
meter being high but the clouds black, when accordingly we
hesitate between the actions proper to rain and to fair
weather (Keynes, p. 30), is not our state of belief intermediate
between two degrees of practical certitude : that it either will
or will not rain ? Outside these degrees lie in general the
two extreme limits formed by absolute or mathematical
certainty, denoted respectively by 0 and 1. With respect to
position on this sort of scale, probabilities which are not in
eodem genere, for example the probabilities of two propositions
of which one rests more on number of observations, the
other on completeness of analogy (loc. cit.), do seem to admit
of comparison. The question whether the judgment that
one event is more likely than another implies the belief that
in the long run that one will occur more often than the other
must be answered — if a simple direct answer is required — in
the negative. And yet there is often present, or apt to be
presented, some reference to frequency of occurrence. Thus
in the above instance of our judgment about the doubtful
prospects of the weather we should be prepared to find that
in exact meteorological records the observed signs — high
barometer with black clouds, of a certain description — would
as often as not (in the same locality and season and ceteris
paribus) be followed by rain as by fair weather. According
as probabilities are more finely graduated and more fully
based on statistical experience the determination of that
degree of probability which it is proper to attach to given

280 F. T. EDGKEWOKTH:

evidence approaches the character of objective science.
Otherwise our judgments about probabilities have only that
sort of universality which belongs to the standard of taste in
art.

(2) New light is thrown by Mr. Keynes on the a priori
probabilities, sometimes ascribed to the Principle of Sufficient
Reason, which play a considerable part both in social science
and in Physics. He strengthens the defence of these pro-
positions against Dr. Venn's polemic. At the same time Mr.
Keynes exhibits and guards against the errors and exaggera-
tions to which the Principle of Sufficient Eeason has often
led. He confirms by a new argument (p. 381) the objection
that, if (as commonly assumed in dealing with errors-of-
observation) one value of a measurable object is as likely
a priori to be the true one as another, then any function (e.g.,
the square or the square-root) of that object — or any function
(other than simple addition) of two or more magnitudes (e.g.
their product) — will not comply with assumption. One value
of the function will not be a priori as probable as another.
And yet the function of an object is itself an object. If we
supposed that for each kind of variable — length, area, angle,
and so forth in each variety of circumstance — there is some
function of the measurable object which has a priori equally
distributed values, we might understand equi-probability of
distribution as true in a sense on the average of all cases.
But it is sufficient to postulate in each case that the & priori
values are not distributed very unequally. Any ordinary
degree of d priori inequality will be effaced by a correspond-
ingly large amount of d posteriori observation. This efface-
ment of d priori evidence through the multiplication of
instances seems to justify the "Rule of Succession" when
employed as a verification of induction based on repeated
observations.

(3) Dealing with the Logic of Statistics, Mr. Keynes re-
affirms effectively the important truth that the Methods of
Induction are largely dependent on pre-existent knowledge.
Part of the " abstract and essence of past experience," to
use the phrase of Dr. Marshall, is the circumstance that
lines of investigation often do not cross each other. There
are water-tight compartments in Nature. The chemist may
perform his experiments without attending to the conjunc-
tures of the planets. This character of natural law seems
closely connected with that independence which plays a great
part in Probabilities. Independence is the prime condition
for the fulfilment of that "law of error" (or deviation of
magnitudes from their average) which Quetelet and Galton

THE PHILOSOPHY OF CHANCE. 281

have celebrated. That an ap^ so little Baconian as Mr.
Keynes' " atomic character of natural law " should support a
generalisation so positive and matter-of-fact as the fulfilment
of an arithmetically expressed formula by objects in Nature
is a paradox deserving the attention of philosophers.

(4) The use of mathematical Expectation as a guide to
conduct is not barred by the difficulty of obtaining precise
data. Nor does much practical importance attach to a scruple
which may be expressed by reference to error s-of-observation,
as follows. For the purpose of measuring an object we
ought (a) to prefer that instrument or method of which the
precision or worth is greatest. Supposing now that this
worth is inferred from the behaviour of the compared instru-
ments or methods in the course of experience prior to the
measurement in hand, we ought (6) to prefer that one for
which the worth is most accurately ascertained ; other things
and in particular the preference prescribed under head (a)
being the same. But what if as between two alternatives
one excels in respect of (a), the other of (6) ! Much more
serious is the difficulty which arises when we have to pre-
scribe for action which cannot be regarded as part of a
" series " — a long run in the course of which the Expectation
will be realised. This djropia forms the main (though not
the only) interest of the Petersburg problem. Mr. Keynes
well argues that some principle, other than mathematical
Expectation, is required as the guide of conduct in such
circumstances. Utilitarian philosophy has not hitherto
furnished such a principle.

There are many other points in Mr. Keynes' treatise which
call for notice. But I am not writing a review of the treatise ;
only examining how far the novelties therein require modifi-
cation of my own previously expressed views. I will, how-
ever, mention some of the topics passed over ; in the hope
that they may be discussed by some of the philosophers who
read MIND.

I have already alluded to an investigation which I did not
follow up, that which relates to the use of Analogy (Keynes,
Part III.). Another promising enquiry relates to the nature
and measurement of Kisk. What value attaches to the
" conventional coefficient of weight and risk" given in this
connexion ? (p. 315). This is one of the many questions
concerning the use of scientific language which confront
this reader of the treatise. What is the value of the
Symbolism which pervades the book? Is it as helpful to
the student of Probabilities as mathematical symbols are to
the student of Economics ? In making this comparison the

282 F. Y. EDGEWOKTH:

mathematician must take into account that in the one caser
that of mathematical economics, he already knows the
symbolic language ; whereas in the present case he has the
trouble of learning a new language. What advantage is
obtained by proposed changes of nomenclature ; in particular
the peculiar use of the term " correlation," and the attribu-
tion of probability to the truth of a proposition rather than
the arrival of an event? Many interesting questions are
suggested by the rehandling of classical problems. Thus
with regard to the application of Probabilities to Testimony,
when Mr. Keynes argues that in certain cases the " conven-
tional formula " is admissible, does he materially reduce the
" opprobrium of mathematics " which Mill attributes to the
classical theory of testimony ? Would Mr. Keynes stand by
the answer which he gives to the argument used by De
Morgan after Laplace concluding that " there was a neces-
sary cause in the formation of the solar system for the
inclinations being what they are " (so nearly identical) ?
" The answer to this," says Mr. Keynes, "was pointed out
by D'Alembert " . . . " De Morgan could have reached a
similar result whatever the configuration might have been "
(pp. 293-294). A whole host of questions are raised by the
author's criticism of his predecessors.

I cannot pass over as irrelevant to the present study the
topics included in the last comprehensive heading. I cannot
consistently with views above expressed appear to acquiesce
in the frequent disparaging remarks and occasional sweeping
denunciations which the author bestows on his eminent pre-
decessors. Laplace, Poisson, Quetelet, Cournot, Mill, Jevons,
and many others, even his favourite author Lexis in one
passage at least (p. 401), all according to him have gone
astray. I find it, indeed, necessary to defend myself against
the imputation of attaching too much importance to the
opinions of one who attaches so little importance to the
opinions of the leading authorities on the subject. The im-
putation would no doubt be serious with respect to some
sciences. But it is a peculiarity of our study, one which it
shares with economics, that you can retain respect for one
who speaks disrespectfully of high authorities. In explana-
tion of this peculiarity it may be remarked that the classical
writers in both subjects often express themselves carelessly.
Bicardo, as Dr. Marshall has said, was too spare of words.
He did not always duly emphasise the distinction between
long and short periods. He left it to be inferred that he
understood the part played by Demand in the determination
of Value. Similarly Poisson in a passage criticised by Mr.

THE PHILOSOPHY OF CHANCE. 283"

Keynes (p. 348) omits from his statement of a problem a
condition which was obviously present to his mind. Laplace
and some of his followers probably understood the nature of
antecedent probabilities and the necessity of taking them
into account better than might be supposed from their ellip-
tical expressions. In criticising the classical writers some
" generosity," in Dr. Marshall's phrase, is required. But
while preaching literary generosity let us not be unjust to
those who are deficient in that quality. We must admit
that intellectual sympathy does not always go with origin-
ality. Of wide application is what Jevons said of some
censorious genius : his own opinions are much more valuable
than his opinions about other people's opinions. Censorious-
ness is especially venial when it refers to faults not inferred
from omission, but actually committed. The distinguished
living economist who thought it worth while to point out
(among other criticisms of the classical economists) that a
passage in Mill's chapter on Kent (Pol. Econ., Book II., ch.
xvi., § 3, par. 1) is inaccurate remains a distinguished
economist. Some of Mr. Keynes' criticisms seem to be of
this type; not damaging much the reputation of either
author or critic. A parallel to Mr. Keynes' depreciation of
Laplace may be found in the work of an original econ-
omist whom Mill praises highly for his illuminating views on
Capital, Dr. John Kae. Like Mr. Keynes, Kae does not
mince his expressions of dissent. " Unsoundness of the
system maintained in the Wealth of Nations " . . . "detected
fallacy in the speculations even of Adam Smith " . . . " funda-
mental error in the general principles of his system "...
" inconsistencies and contradictions " ..." all along errone-
ous"— such are among the expressions referring to the
Father of Political Economy. And yet Eae is praised in the
highest terms by J. S. Mill. Mill's words may be trans-
ferred, with the alteration of a name only, Laplace being
substituted for Adam Smith, to the case before us. " The
author unites much knowledge, an original vein of thought,.
a considerable turn for philosophical generalities. . . . The
principal fault of the book is the position of antagonism in?
which, with the controversial spirit apt to be found in those
who have new thoughts upon old subjects, he has placed
himself towards Adam Smith. I call this a fault (though I
think many of the criticisms just and some of them far-
seeing). . . ."

II.— SENSE-DATA AND SENSIBLE APPEAR-
ANCES IN SIZE-DISTANCE PERCEPTION.

BY H. N. KANDLE.

BY sense-datum or pure sensation seems to be meant a
hypothetical psychical process corresponding to, or a function
of, an elementary physiological process. It is usually ad-
mitted that no one ever experiences a sense-datum in its
purity, but it is sometimes suggested that we approximate to
such an experience when we break through the habitual
nexus of associates so that the sensory element appears in a
novel setting : as, for example, when we turn the printed
page upside down, and regard the S's and the 8's in this
novel position. Certainly the sensible appearance changes
under changed conditions, but it is a question whether the
novel sensible appearance is ever any nearer to being a pure
sensation than is the familiar sensible appearance. It might
be thought that the appearance of the inverted S or 8 ap-
proximates to the pure sensation because it is a more
accurate representation of the actual " retinal image/' and
therefore can more truly be described as a psychical process
which is a function of the elementary physiological process,
i.e., of the retinal image. I propose in what follows to
consider the size-distance percept with special reference
to the assumption that there are to be found in it sense-data
as denned above.

I begin with the phenomenon of the diminished sensible
magnitude of an object in monocular vision when the eye is
accommodated for a nearer point. With one eye closed place
the point of a pen midway between the other eye and a page
of print, keeping the eye fixed on the pen-point. What
happens, then, is that the print becomes amazingly small. I
•still regard this as an unquestionable example of sensible
appearance of magnitude varying in complete independence
of the size of the retinal image, although it was suggested to
l that the shrinkage could be explained on optical prin-

1 By Mr. W. G. P. Wall, of the Indian Educational Service.

H. N. EANDLE : SENSE-DATA AND SENSIBLE APPEAEANCES. 285

ciples, since the increased curvature of the lens as ac-
commodated for the very near pen-point must result in the
image of the print (beyond the pen-point) now coming to a
focus in front of the retina instead of on the retina : the
image thus formed in front of the retina being smaller than
the image which is formed on the retina when the eye is
accommodated for the print. Some blurring occurs, such as
should occur when an image comes to a focus in front of (or
behind) the retina.

And yet the explanation involves a difficulty of a funda-
mental character, if offered as a physiological explanation of
the shrinkage in sensible size, as corresponding with a
shrinkage in the retinal area affected. For the optical
' image ' of smaller size formed in front of the retina, is not
a physiological fact at all. The only physiological fact that
could concern us would be the image as formed on the
retina: and this would not be a decreased, but a blurred,,
image. If we are conscious of the smaller ' image ' (in the
optical sense), then our ' sensation of extensity ' corresponds
to something which is certainly a physical and objective fact,
but (quite as certainly) is not a physiological fact. To put
it plainly we should see an * image ' which is not on the retina
at all.

And this explanation cannot be given of the same pheno-
menon as it occurs in binocular vision, — both eyes now con-
verging on the nearer pen-point. The same shrinkage of
objects beyond fixation-point occurs ; and it is usually stated
that it can occur without any blurring at all, in the case of
an observer who can dissociate near convergence from near
accommodation ; that is, who can converge his eyes on the
pen-point, and yet keep the lens accommodated for the print.
I cannot do this, and therefore cannot verify this statement.

Other examples, in which the necessity of a ' psychological '
as opposed. to a 'physiological' explanation seems to be
generally admitted, are to be found in the varying ap-
pearances of the visual after-sensation according to the plane
and direction of projection. "Produce an after-image of the
sun, and look at your finger-tip : it will be smaller than your
nail. Project it on the table, and it will be as big as a straw-
berry ; on the wall, as large as a plate ; on yonder mountain,
bigger than a house. And yet it is an unchanged retinal im-
pression." x It is impossible to assign a fixed extensity- value
to the retinal impression in this case for the image " feels "
amazingly expanded (or contracted) under the different

1 James, Principles of Psychology, II., p. 231.

H. N. HANDLE : SENSE-DATA AND SENSIBLE APPEAEANCES

•conditions of projection. The feeling of magnitude here is
certainly not a function of the magnitude of the retinal im-
pression. And a still more striking case of the determination
of the sensible appearance by psychological conditions and
its independence of elementary physiological processes, is
provided by the changed shape of the after-sensation ac-
cording to the direction of its projection. If an after-sensa-
tion of a cross with the arm at right angles to the upright be
formed and projected upon the upper corner of the wall, the
cross is seen slant-legged.1 The retinal impression remains
presumably the same in whatever direction the eyes turn,
but the "sensory value " of the retinal after-image differs in
strict correspondence with the direction of the eye. The
"sensory variation in such figure-direction percepts must re-
ceive a psychological explanation. Such illusions as the
Zollner pattern and the Miiller-Lyer illusion provide other
familiar examples of psychologically conditioned sensible
-appearances.

The fundamental importance of these facts for a theory of
perception is not sufficiently realised. They tend to be treated
•as exceptional cases, interesting psychical curiosities, but
essentially different, in their generative conditions, from
normal perceptions. But so far are such cases from being
exceptional that in them sensible appearance reveals its true
•character in unambiguous clearness ; so much so, that to
realise thoroughly their typical character is to achieve a
revolution in standpoint. The common feature in such cases
is the impossibility of finding any fixed ' sense-datum ' corre-
sponding to the retinal impression. And what is here sub-
mitted is that this feature is not the exception, but the rule ;
that there never is any fixed relation discoverable between
an elementary physiological process and an elementary
psychological 'sense-datum'.

There is, of course, nothing new in this position. On the
contrary physiology now-a-days seems to have advanced
definitely to the conception of the integrative functioning

1 James (Principles, vol. ii., p. 283) points out that "our retina now
holds the image which a cross of square shape throws when in front, but
which a cross of the slant-legged pattern would throw provided it were
actually on the wall in the distant place at which we look ". Elsewhere
he remarks (vol. i., p. 263) that "no object not probable, no object which
we are not incessantly practised in reproducing, can acquire this vividness
in imagination". You cannot therefore make the after-sensation of a
straight line appear bent by projection on the angle of wall and ceiling,
because real straight lines never do look bent under any circumstances.
(Pathological conditions in retinitis will distort an objective straight line,
see Myers, Exp. Psych., p. 227.)

IN SIZE-DISTANCE PEECEPTION. 287

of the nervous system, and physiological atomism appears
to have become as obsolete as psychological atomism is often
asserted to be. But popular psychology is still under the
influence of a way of thinking which the professed psycholo-
gist has rejected ; and perhaps this influence, even now,
prevents us from fully realising how the problem which
Hume set to Kant has been changed by a process of psycho-
logical analysis which has gradually undermined Locke's
" way of ideas " — or at any rate its sensationalistic starting-
point. For to deny that there is any elementary mental fact
which is a fixed function of an elementary physiological fact
is to deny the existence of the sense-datum.

I turn now to the assertion that there are in consciousness
primitive sense-data corresponding to the retinal impression
—direct feelings of retinal magnitude, for example — but that
these are obscured by perception of real size, or imagined
4 'normal sensible appearance"; and that we can by intro-
spective effort or training become aware of these "primitive
sensibles " even in cases in which they are ordinarily eclipsed
by the normal sensible appearance. To put it concretely,
I cannot help "seeing" the corner of the ceiling of this
room as a right angle : and yet, it is said, if I had had the
advantages of James' young draughtsman l I should be able
to "see" it "as an obtuse angle: to feel directly the retinal
direction of the lines. Therefore the retinal direction of the
lines must be present as a primitive .sensible element in con-
sciousness, otherwise the young draughtsman could never
learn to feel it directly.

So far as I am concerned, I am convinced that I cannot
learn to feel the "retinal direction" of the lines in such
cases, however hard I try. I simply must see the angle as
a right angle, and I can only draw it perspectively by methods
of trial and failure which are guided by my knowledge of the
perspective law that the vertical lines which bound the wall,
being real parallels, must recede as they get further from me,
and of the fact that the upper part of the wall is further from
me than the lower part. If I want to " see " the perspective
effect I can do it only by visual superposition, — as the artist
measures perspective magnitudes by a length of his pencil
held between eye and object. And I see no reason to suppose
that the artist may have a capacity in which 1 seem to myself
to be very deficient, of introspectively perceiving the per-
spective or retinal values of objects.2

1 James, Principles, vol. ii., p. 179.

2 In the case of magnitudes, unlike figures, there is no difficulty in most
cases in becoming aware of a sensible appearance distinct from ' real ' size.

288 H. N. HANDLE : SENSE-DATA AND SENSIBLE APPEAEANCES

What happens to the young draughtsman when he learns
perspective? James tells us that his training consists in
''his learning to feel directly the retinal (i.e., the primitively
sensible) magnitudes of objects ". If that were so he would
never learn to draw at all ; for there is no such thing as a,
feeling of retinal magnitude. His task is in one way very
much easier than the task which James would set him, —
easier in so far as it is at least not impossible of achievement,
— but in another way much more difficult than it is repre-
sented to be by the traditional sensationalist psychology.
For according to this psychology all the artist has to do is
to forget his percepts 'and attend to his "primitive sensa-
tions". There is the picture all ready drawn for him in two
dimensions on the retina of his eye, — all he has to do is to
copy it on a piece of paper. But, if there is really no more
than this in the artist's cunning, it is surprising that mankind
took so many thousands of years to hit on the simple device,
and that even now in many parts of the world where a fairly
high development of the arts exists the laws of perspective
are very imperfectly known. It is surely impossible to
believe that the trick is as simple as the psychologists would
have us believe, — that we need only draw the curtain of
meanings to behold the fairest tree of art, whose fruit is
excellent and within the reach of all. (It is hard to resist
the temptation to misquote Berkeley's short and easy way
with the mysteries of science, in this connexion ; for its
analogy with the psychologist's short cut to the pictorial
arts leaps to the eye.) As against this view that the craft
of the artist is a kind of ignorance, or withdrawing from
reality, — a view which reminds us of Plato's contention that
the painter's picture is twice removed from reality, —
the suggestion may be put forward (tentatively, as not
being based on any knowledge of the history of the arts,
but rather as an a priori presumption) that every advance in
the technique of the draughtsman must have gone hand in
hand with, and been based upon, an advance in science. It
was no light matter to play tricks with the third dimension,
to gather up into one plane and spread upon a superficies the
depths of space, and to translate the solid world upon a sheet
of paper. For perception is apprehension under a tri-
dimensional schema, and draughtsmanship the finding of

But then the sensible appearance is never identical with the perspective
or retinal value. Vide infra . If the draughtsman reproduces perspective
magnitude with photographic fidelity, then he reproduces on his paper
something different from the sensible appearance, — something other than
what he sees.

IN SIZE-DISTANCE PEECEPTION. 289

the correlate schema in two dimensions. Nature no doubt
translates the former set of relations into the latter, upon the
retina of the eye. But it is the former set of relations, the
world in three dimensions, that is given to us in perception,
— not its projection on the retina. We have no primitive
sensibles corresponding to the retinal impressions. And if
we would copy Nature's draughtsmanship, we must laboriously
learn her formulae for transmuting the tri-dimensional schema
into the very different schema of two dimensions.

The question of the relation of perspective values to
sensible appearance brings us face to face with one form of
the problem of the relation of appearances to reality in per-
ception ; and with one form of the question whether any way
can be found of dealing with appearances other than the
subjectivist way of putting their existence ' in the mind '.
If appearance meant perspective5 we could answer the latter
question in the affirmative. Reid thoroughly appreciated the
objective character of the perspective sizes and shapes of
things, and his rejection of the " way of ideas " carried with
it the recognition that the varying perspective values of
objects do not exist "in" the mind. The visual angles
subtended by things at different distances, their visual super-
position values with reference to each other at different dis-
tances, are as objectively real as their " real " magnitudes
and shapes are, — the former have as good a claim to a place
in the physical world as the latter have. It is a real relation
that lines from the extremities of (say) a stick converging on
points at varying distances from the stick will form different
angles.1 And genuine perspective, perception is the perception
of such objective facts. It is (e.g.) the perception of the dif-
ferent angles subtended according to the distance between the
stick and point. "Real" perception is the perception of
another objective fact, viz., the magnitude-relation of two
objects in the same plane, or as considered in the same
plane ; or their contact value. There is no reason to class
the latter fact as objective and the former as subjective. If
the former is "in the mind" then the latter is also "in the
mind". The former, or perspective size, has been regarded
as subjective, or 'in the mind' because it varies; whereas
' real ' size does not. But, of course, perspective size is

1 There is therefore nothing to prevent a blind man from understanding
perspective. Cp. the " Caecus duo bacilla tenens " of Descartes, quoted in
Berkeley's appendix to the second edition of his New Theory of Vision :
Fraser's Berkeley t^vol. i. (1871), p. 109. His sensory language may be
* kinaesthetic/ a language of pushes and strains ; but the meaning is con-
veyed just the same.

19

290 H. N. HANDLE : SENSE-DATA AND SENSIBLE APPEAEANCES

invariable in precisely the same sense in which real size is
invariable. And the facts perceived constitute as good a
reality in the case of perspective, as in the case of 'real/
magnitude.

The confusion between this sort of relativity (which is
inherent in the objective reality of the thing) with the other
sort of relativity (subjectivity) seems to have come about in
the case of perspective because perspective has been (un-
justifiably) identified by psychologists with bare sensation
of retinal magnitude or directions. The perspective magni-
tude has been put first of all in the eye; and then in the
mind. The artist, James has told us, learns to feel directly
the "retinal (i.e., the primitively sensible) magnitudes of
objects ". You first call the perspective magnitude " retinal " :
then you call it " primitively sensible". The perspective
magnitude is now in your head, — in your mind : a sensation.
And so the field of perception comes to be divided into (a) real
sizes and shapes, outside the mind, (6) perspective "distor-
tions," which, as identified with sense-data, are inside the
mind.

But the perceptual world cannot long remain in the un-
comfortably divided condition to which this in-and-out theory
would reduce it; and the "real" magnitudes and shapes of
things will effect an entry into the mind along with the
sense-data, once the door is opened. For "sensation" is
the door by which the world gets into the mind, and unless
theory of knowledge succeeds in establishing a no-thorough-
fare here, it will never keep the world at its proper distance.
It is because we are convinced of this that we would keep
primitive sensations of retinal magnitudes out of our analysis
of size-perception, if we can do so without misreporting the
facts.

We can see both ' real ' magnitudes and shapes, and pers-
pective magnitudes and shapes. Perspective magnitudes,
though they are not normal objects of visual perception,
nevertheless are, or can become, objects, just as much as
"real " sizes and real shapes. But it is not possible by any
effort of psychological analysis or any amount of psycho-
logical training to find the perspective distortion in the form
of a primitive sense-datum, underlying the perception "in
your mind ". There is no such sense-datum in your mind,
and therefore you will not find it there. But there are
perspective relations in the external world, and if you want
to find them it is outwards that you must direct your atten-
tion, not inwards : into the world, not into the mind.

Simple observation alone will not discover in most cases,

IN SIZE-DISTANCE PERCEPTION. 291

"how things really look," — as we wrongly express it, — and
if we want to realise correct perspective values, we shall have
to fall back on an experiment of visual superposition. It
sounds paradoxical to say that we do not see the perspective
appearances, — that we do not see "how things really look ".
But it is the simple truth : and the suggestion of paradox is
wholly due to the somewhat unfortunate phraseology of the
distinction between "appearances" and "realities". It
would be better, instead of " appearances " (in this sense) to
speak of perspective values or effects. But it is difficult to
find any acceptable phrase which would serve as a substitute
for "real," as opposed to perspective, size and shape.
Berkeley substitutes ' tangible ' for ' real ' ; identifying visible
with perspective. But this phraseology could not be adopted
without accepting the more objectionable features in his
theory of vision. And yet there is an instinct for truth
underlying his identification of real with tangible magnitudes
and figures. For the criterion of "real" size is contact, so
that instead of real size, one might perhaps use the phrase
contact-size. But contact-size is not the same as tangible
size, though the words are derivatives from the same stem :
for " touch " has obviously different senses when we speak of
two objects touching one another and when we speak of our-
selves as perceiving objects by touch. Berkeley's tangible
magnitude strictly interpreted refers to the latter : and this
may be as much a ' mere appearance ' as visible magnitude
may be. We may perceive real (or contact) magnitude
through touch, just as we may through sight : but sometimes
at any rate what is perceived through touch is a mere ap-
pearance, and there is no guarantee that the magnitude as
felt will be real.

The identification of sensible appearances with the real
perspective values of objects, which seems to be very
generally made, has no grounds beyond the assumption
(itself false) that retinal impressions have a fixed sensory
value. It seems then to follow from this assumption that,
as the retinal impression is a true representation of the
perspective value of the object, so must the sensible ap-
pearance be, — the sensible appearance (or at any rate the
primitive sense-datum) being regarded as a fixed function of
the retinal impression. But the facts are obvious enough,
and they afford conclusive evidence that sensible appearances
do not correspond with actual perspective magnitudes.1

1 James clearly recognises that "we end by ascribing no absolute im-
port whatever to the retinal space-feeling which afc any moment we may
receive. So complete does this overlooking of retinal magnitude become

292 H. N. HANDLE : SENSE-DATA AND SENSIBLE APPEABANCES

I look out of my window and see one of the arches of the
verandah through it. The perspective breadth of the arch is
visually superposed by about half the breadth of the window.
A piece of pencil is lying on the table — I judge that, if I
lifted it, it would superpose twice upon the arch. I make
the experiment and find to my no small surprise that half
the pencil covers the whole arch. As for the relation between
the window and the pencil, the window looks so much bigger
that it seems useless to judge, — however I make an estimate,
and judge that five or six pencil-lengths will completely fill
the window in visual superposition. On trial I find that
about once and one-third the pencil length fills the window.

The amount of error made in unsophisticated guessing of
visual superposition-values would be a suitable subject for
experimental enquiry. If I can generalise from my own case,
there would be a large and constant over-estimation of the
visual superposition-value of things further off, with reference
to things nearer. But the point I wish to bring out is that
the " visible magnitude " of objects is ordinarily neither their
perspective (visual superposition) value, nor their "real"
(contact) value, — but something in between perspective-
magnitude and contact-magnitude. Visual magnitude is in
fact a compromise between perspective size and "real " size.
It is neither a fixed function of visual angles, nor is it a fixed
function of " real " magnitude. It tries to be both, perhaps ;
but manages to be neither. At any rate it seems clear that
in such cases there are not merely two things, viz. : (a) " real,"
and (Z>) perspective magnitude ; but three things (a) real
magnitude, (6) sensible magnitude, and (c) perspective magni-
tude.

Real magnitude and perspective magnitude are both alike
objective or physical facts. Visual magnitude in most cases
does not correspond to any objective fact* JBut on the other
hand, visual magnitude is certainly not a pure sensation, or
sense-datum. This is where psychology from Locke on-
wards has so consistently gone astray. Take for instance
Berkeley's distinction between "pictures" and "images " as
expounded in his New Theory Vindicated, of which I shall
speak in more detail below. Berkeley assumes without
argument that the "picture" is given, — is a sense-datum
simply proportional to the "image": and the picture, he
insists, is the immediate object of vision. So that visual

that it is next to impossible to compare the visual magnitudes of objects at
different distances without making the experiment of superposition. We
cannot say beforehand how much of a distant house or tree our finger will
cover." This is exactly the fact referred to here. (James, vol. ii., p. 179.)

IN SIZE-DISTANCE PERCEPTION. 293

magnitude proper is simply proportional to the image : and
the image is the perspective magnitude.

This, as we have just pointed out, is quite false. Visual
magnitude is a resultant of many determinants, of which
perspective value (retinal impression) is only one among
many. Berkeley of course is aware that things usually
present an appearance different from their perspective
magnitude: but he denies that this sort of "appearance" is
the proper object of vision. It is (he holds) the effect of
"suggestion," — which brings to the mind the "tangible" (or
real) magnitude, in place of the visual (or perspective) magni-
tude. But, in the first place he has not realised how in-
variably the actual "appearance " (whether you regard it as
visual or not) is something different both from perspective
magnitude and from real (or contact) magnitude. And, in
the second place, he has not made out a case for any such
distinction as he assumes to exist between the given visual
magnitude and the suggested tangible magnitude. The truth
is that the only "visual magnitude" which introspection can
discover is never a given, but always a product of " sug-
gestion " : and that it does not normally coincide either with
the perspective magnitude (of which he regards "visible
magnitude" as a fixed function) or with real magnitude
(which he calls "tangible" magnitude, but which would
more properly be called contact- magnitude).

A very enlightening illustration of the nature of the
" sensible appearance " is the apparent magnitudes of the sun
and moon. We do not always see the sun and moon the
same size. They look much bigger near the horizon than at
the zenith : and the moon looks smaller when seen through
a telescope, — (although in the latter case the retinal image is
many times magnified, — another example of the obvious fact
that visible size is not a fixed function of retinal impression).
These phenomena provide interesting examples of the tra-
ditional treatment of size-perception. The case of the
moon's looking smaller when seen through a telescope is
usually said to involve a "secondary deception," the effect,
so to say, destroying its own cause. The case is analysed
thus : (1) the actual retinal image is, and is seen as, larger ;
(2) as an effect of this, we judge that the moon is near ; (3)
this judgment of nearness makes us see the thing smaller, —
because if the moon is so near as it seems it must really be
quite small, or its retinal image would be enormously bigger.
It is supposed in fact, that the " sensation " corresponding to
the magnified retinal image gives rise to a judgement of
nearness ; and that this judgment of nearness then destroys

294 H. N. HANDLE : SENSE-DATA AND SENSIBLE APPEAEANCES

its own cause, the sensation of largeness, and generates in
place of it a perception of smallness. The converse case is
that of the apparent bigness of the moon when near the
horizon, of which the following analysis is often given. The
image is dim, being seen through a greater density of atmos-
phere ; and is seen over an intervening space broken up by
trees, etc. : both circumstances carry the suggestion of dis-
tance. But since its distance thus seems greater than when
it is high in the sky, we cannot help judging that it must be
bigger than usual, in order to produce the usual retinal image
when its distance from us (apparently) has increased. And
so we see it as bigger. There is a " secondary deception "
here too, — for I actually see the moon nearer to me, when
close to the horizon, — presumably because (a) on account of
its apparent distance, (6) I judge that it is bigger than usual,
and see it bigger, and so (c) I judge that after all it must be
nearer than usual, and see it as nearer ! l

There are no limits to the possibilities of such epicycles of
explanation : but their necessity may well be doubted. Get
away from the presupposition that we have an immediate
feeling of retinal magnitude, and the whole complication
vanishes, — for the supposed difficulty does not exist when
once it is realised that retinal magnitude as such has no
sensory value at all, — that we are not even aware of it. I
simply do not know that the "image" of the moon is
magnified through the telescope. There is no primary de-
ception, and consequently no " secondary deception " ; and
the percipient subject may plead not guilty to the charge of
harbouring this amazing tissue of lies in the soul. His per-
ception of the size of the moon whether seen through the
telescope or at the zenith, or on the horizon, is a function of
the perceptual universe to which it happens to belong. As
correlate of the universe which is seen in the field of the
telescope the moon becomes visibly small. Why should it
become small ? Because the telescope makes space collapse.
The moon looks smaller because it is reduced automatically
to the scale of a new perceptual schema. The moon projected
on a nearer plane is the moon of a smaller world, and so
suffers shrinkage to match the world, of which it is a function.
Similarly the moon on the horizon looks bigger because the
perceptual world is a bigger world horizontally than it is
vertically and so needs a bigger moon as its correlate. The
over-arching heaven is seen as a very much flattened dome ;

1 But sensible appearance does not necessarily correspond with our
judgment. Often it persists when our judgment contradicts it. This
point is considered below.

IN SIZE-DISTANCE PEECEPTION. 295

and the changes in the perceived size of sun and moon, as
they climb to the zenith and descend again, are proportional
to the flattening of the arch. It is to be noted that the
apparent magnitudes of the heavenly bodies obey precisely
the rule which governs the apparent magnitudes of after-
sensations. An after- sensation projected into a distant plane
looks bigger, projected into a near plane looks smaller : but
this is just how the visible magnitude of the moon be-
haves. It is because the visible sizes of sun and moon have
not been recognised as simple functions of the perceptual
schema that psychologists have been forced to invent the
hypothesis of "double deception," in an effort to explain
their changing appearance.

It may be that this ' telescoping ' of space is partly con-
ditioned by a change in the size of the retinal impression.
But there is no reason whatever to assume the existence of
a direct and primary awareness, or "primitive sensibility," of
retinal magnitude. The change in retinal impression, working
with other conditions, manifests itself to us, primarily and
directly, as a modification of the general perceptual schema,
a modification which can be roughly expressed by saying that
things have come nearer, or that a section of space has dis-
appeared, or that there is a collapse of planes : so that the
magnitude of an object as perceived by us is never a bare
feeling of retinal magnitude, but is always the product of
' relative suggestion i.1

The supposition of perceptual " schema " as determinant
of the percept has forced itself upon psychologists in the
attempt to explain a variety of apparently anomalous
phenomena of perception. Dr. Myers puts it forward as an
explanation of the phenomenon of vision known as auto-
kinetic sensation,2 i.e., apparent lateral displacement of seen
objects without eye-movement. He makes the same sugges-
tion with regard to the size-distance percept, in the case of
the variable size of the ' after-sensation ' according to the-
distance of fixation-point,3 pointing out that in this case
" the subject does not consciously take into account the dis-
tance of the fixation-point ". He brings under the same
category the exaggeration in the visual magnitude of familiar
objects seen through fog, remarking that "both in the case
of the after-images, and in the case of objects seen through a

1 Stout, Analytic Psychology (1902), vol. ii., ch. vi., especially pp. 68-72.
But Dr. Stout finds the starting point of perception in "sensory im-
pressions which are not themselves distinguished and identified ".

2 Text-Book of Experimental Psychology, 1911, Part I., p. 230.
8 Op. cit., p. 282.

296 H. N. KANDLE : SENSE-DATA AND SENSIBLE APPEAEANCES

fog, the estimation of distance does not consciously affect
that of size. Yet primarily the apparent size must be de-
pendent on some unconscious influence of distance. Possibly
we have here a schema or unconscious disposition in regard
to the distance of objects. And when this schema undergoes
change, it manifests itself in consciousness by effecting a
change in apparent size, whereupon the apparent size deter-
mines our awareness of the distance of the object." Similarly
with regard to the apparent sizes of the sun and moon, after
pointing out that the form of the sky is an important factor
in the illusion, he states that "it is this apparently greater
distance of the sky and of celestial bodies (at the horizon)
which, although not actually recognised, yet affects an un-
conscious schema, and this leads to an apparent enlargement
of the heavenly bodies where they rise and set." l

The interest of these passages is their rejection of the
traditional view of the percept as a working up of given
sensory data, and their clear recognition of the fact that the
sensible appearance is primarily and directly determined, not
by any "feeling" of distance, or "feeling" of retinal magni-
tude, but by something other than a sense-datum, — something
which Dr. Myers calls a schema or unconscious disposition.
(It will be noticed that he equates the behaviour of the after-
image with that of luna humilis and sublimis.)

With a view to elucidation of the determinants of sensible
magnitude one turns naturally to the classical analysis of the
size-distance percept given by Berkeley. It was one of those
puzzles of size-distance perception dependent on shift of
perceptual schema (Barrow's problem) which provided him
with a starting-point for his New Theory of Vision. Two
of the principles of interpretation which he lays down call
for mention ; the first because it is true, the second because
it is false. The first is that the conditions, or determinants,
of size-distance perception work together to produce a joint
resultant.2 The effect produced depends on the totality of
determinants. We should add, what Berkeley does not, that
any attempt to assign a fixed sensory value to any one
determinant, must break down. " It is not faintness anyhow
applied that suggests greater magnitude; there being no
necessary connexion between these two things. . . . Faint-
ness, as well as all other ideas or perceptions " (we should
prefer to say, conditions) "which suggest magnitude or
distance, does it in the same way that words suggest the

1 Op. cit., pp. 293-294.

2 New Theory of Vision, §§ 72 and 73. Cp. Stout, op. cit., loc. cit.

IN SIZE-DISTANCE PEECEPTION. 297

notions to which they are annexed. Now it is known a
word pronounced with certain circumstances, or in a certain
context with other words, hath not always the same import
and signification that it hath when pronounced in some other
circumstances, or different context of words." The other
principle to which we refer is that no idea which is not itself
perceived can be the means of perceiving another idea. From
this principle Berkeley draws the conclusion that the accepted
optical explanations of size-distance perception are wrong, for
" those lines and angles mentioned in optics are not them-
selves perceived. Hence the mind does not perceive distance
by lines and angles." The principle means that the deter-
minants of size-distance perception must themselves be facts
of a sensory or perceptual order. This is not true. The
conditions which determine perception need not themselves
be sensations or sensible appearances : they may be conditions
precedent of any sensible appearance.

The insertion of hypothetical sensations (local signs, retinal
•extensity sensations, etc.), for the existence of which there is
no trace of introspective evidence, to serve as connecting links
between (presumably) nervous processes and perception, has
been carried by the psychologist to unjustifiable lengths. In
the first place, as we have said, there is no introspective
evidence for these supposed sensory elements. And in the
second place, the supposition of them introduces gratuitous
difficulties into the psychological analysis. I am referring in
particular to the insistence of psychologists upon a primitive
sensation of retinal magnitude, — which, as we have seen, leads
to an absurd "double deception" analysis of certain size-
distance percepts. We are told that we see the moon at
the horizon as distant ; and therefore we see it as large ; and
therefore we see it as near. This amounts to a chain of
percepts each determining the next in the series, with an
absurd result. Now there is no introspective evidence that
we see the moon distant : and, if we did, it would be psycho-
logically impossible at the same time to see it near. The
only possible result of such a rivalry of perceptions would be
an alternation of the competing percepts, with a moon dancing
a very disconcerting to-and-from coranto on the horizon. The
fact, however, is that we do not see the moon as distant, and
it is false to assign the percept of a distant moon as the deter-
minant of our perception of a large and near moon. The
determinant of perceived size in this case (as in the case of
the projected ' after-sensation ' ; and as in the case of shrinkage
of further objects in near vision when accommodation or con-
vergence is effected for a nearer object)is the perceptual schema.

298 H. N. HANDLE : SENSE-DATA AND SENSIBLE APPEAKANCES-

This means that the determinant of visible magnitude is after
all not a percept, but a general shift of standpoint,1 which, so«
far from being determined by a percept, is the condition con-
stitutive of all objects as perceived at the moment. The
schema is the form of the total experience, and is not capable
of analysis into any set of sensational or perceptual elements,
just because it is the condition underlying all the perceptual
facts.

And here we come to a fundamental divergence in the
behaviour of two different classes of apparent magnitudes.
The size of the moon is a mere function of the schema, and
so is the size of visual after-images. But the size of familiar
objects seen through fog obeys a directly contrary rule, — they
suffer magnification instead of diminution when illusorily
located in a nearer plane. The same thing happens when
you look across an unnoticed gap in the ground at figures on
the other side. They look surprisingly bigger because a piece
of the middle distance has been stolen and space has collapsed
upon the observer. In cases like this objects refuse reduction
to the scale of a nearer and contracted world, in virtue of
what Berkeley calls a ' praenotion ' 2 or what James would
call the imagined normal sensible size. (But the normal
sensible size in this sense is not one fixed sensible appearance
— "that which we get when the object is at the distance
most propitious for exact visual discrimination of its details ".s
The normal sensible magnitude of an object is those varying
sensible magnitudes which experience teaches us that it
ought to have in different planes.) Familiar objects at
familiar distances carry this prenotion. We tend to see them
with their "normal sensible appearance" at each plane of

1 How far physiological conditions of this shift can be found remains to-
be seen. See James, vol. ii., pp. 216-217. " The size of the field of view
varies enormously in all three dimensions without our being able to assign
with any definiteness the process in the visual tract on which the variation
depends .... In general the maximum feeling of depth or distance seems
to take the lead in determining the apparent magnitude of the whole field
and the two other dimensions seem to follow. . . . But when we ask our-
selves what changes in the eye determine how great this maximum feeling
of depth or distance shall be, we find ourselves unable to point to any ona
of them as being its absolutely regular concomitant." See also p. 213,
where he draws attention to the " sensible recession of the maximum dis-
tance " which occurs on looking at a landscape with head inveited. Also-
pp. 269-270, footnote. No doubt physiological conditions exist : but
certainly they are nothing like that " image on the retina" of which the
sense-datum is popularly supposed to be a kind of literal point-to-point
transcription.

2 Berkeley, Vindication, § 59.
'James, Principles.

IN SIZE-DISTANCE PEKCEPTION. 299

projection. When therefore the figure of a man in a fog is
illusorily projected into a nearer plane, our ' prenotion *
assigns to the figure its normal sensible magnitude in that
plane, and we see it big, as we should see it if it actually were-
as near as that. And yet, in spite of the unconciously deter-
mined shift of schema which has thus determined the sensible
appearance we are aware that the figure is really further off,,
and we are surprised to find " how big it looks "^

The former class of objects may be called objects with
functional visual magnitude, because their sensible ap-
pearance is a simple function of the schema without inter-
ference from any "prenotions ". The latter class may be
called objects with normal visual magnitude, because their
sensible appearance is determined by a prenotion of their
normal appearance at any given plane of projection. The
principle obeyed by the one class of objects is diametrically
opposed to the principle which governs the other class ; for
objects with functional visual magnitude (such as after-
sensations, and the apparent magnitudes of heavenly bodies)
have a visual magnitude inversely proportional to the distance
of the plane of projection ; while objects with normal visual
magnitude have a visual magnitude directly proportional to
the distance of the plane of projection.

Berkeley lays stress on situation as one of the deter-
minants of the size-distance percept, and I propose now to
consider the sections of the Vindication 2 which set forth his
views on this point. His position is complicated partly by
the peculiar meaning he attaches to ' image ' here ; and
partly by the assumption which he makes (in common with
most subsequent psychology) of the existence of "pictures"
proportional to "images," i.e., sense-data corresponding to,,
and functions of, perspective projections. Berkeley expounds
the "image" and its function by the supposition of " a dia-
phanous plain erected near the eye, perpendicular to the
horizon (i.e., to the horizontal plane) and divided into small
equal squares". A line from the eye to the limit of the
" horizontal plain " passes through the centre square. Lines,
from the nearest portions of the horizontal plane pass through
the lowest squares. "The eye sees all the parts and objects
in the horizontal plain through certain corresponding squares
of the perpendicular diaphanous plain. Those that occupy
most squares have the greatest visible extension, which is

1 A case in which "judgment " fails to dispel the illusion. The deter-
minant prenotion is working at a deeper level, and a notion " above the
threshold of consciousness " has no power over it.

2 New Theory of Vision Vindicated, §§ 48 to 61.

300 H. N. EANDLE : SENSE-DATA AND SENSIBLE APPEAEANCES

proportional to the squares. But the tangible (real) magni-
tudes of objects are not judged proportional thereto. For
those that are seen through the upper squares shall be judged
vastly bigger than those seen through the lower squares,
though occupying the same or a much greater number of
those equal squares in the diaphanous plain." (They are not
merely judged bigger, but seem bigger. The visual idea is
" expanded ".) The 'diaphanous plain ' is, of course, not the
retina, and situation of the "image " does not mean absolute
retinal situation. Eye-movement makes no difference to
situation in Berkeley's sense ; though of course it alters
situation on the retina. (Any attempt to apply here a
doctrine of fixed ' local signs/ corresponding to retinal situa-
tions, as determinants of visual magnitude, would have to
take this into account. The difficulty is perhaps not in-
surmountable. And there is some evidence for the sup-
position that different situations on the retina have different
magnitude-values, — whether primitively or as the result of
experience.)

Berkeley points out that the ' images ' and the ' diaphanous
plain' are altogether of a 'tangible' nature, i.e., facts of the
objective or physical order. But he holds that there is a
psychical entity — a visual sense-datum, or 'picture' corre-
sponding to these physical or 'tangible' facts. "There are
pictures relative to those images ; and those pictures have an
order among themselves, answering to the situation of the
images, in respect of which order they are said to be higher
and lower. These pictures are also more or less faint ; they,
•and not the images, being in truth the visible objects. There-
fore what hath been said of the images must in strictness be
understood of the corresponding pictures, whose faintness,
situation, and magnitude being immediately perceived by
sight, do all three concur in suggesting the magnitude of
tangible objects (real magnitude)."

It seems clear that in this appeal to fixed situations on a
plane erected near the eye Berkeley falls into the very pro-
cedure which he condemns in contemporary optical explana-
tions of the size-distance percept.1 For fixed situations in a
plane erected outside the eye are not sense-data, any more
than are the lines and angles outside the body, by which
geometrical optics measures size and distance ; and they have
therefore no proper place in the sensationalist's psychology of

1 New Theory of Vision, §§ 10 to 13. His principle is that "no idea
which is not itself perceived can be to me the means of perceiving any
other idea ". But the lines and angles of geometrical optics are not them-
selves perceived.

IN SIZE-DISTANCE PERCEPTION. 301

perception. It may be said that the pictures corresponding
to (retinal) images and situations are sense-data. But these
' pictures ' are very equivocal entities. A ' picture ' may
mean one or other of two things (i) sense-datum, the hypo-
thetical psychical entity corresponding to retinal impression ;
(ii) sensible appearance, the product of ' prenotions ' and of the
schema. It is really the latter alone that could give us those
fixed " situations " to which Berkeley appeals. But of course
Berkeley's ''picture " cannot be the sensible appearance (i.e.,
the suggested size-distance, or the " expanded idea") for the
" picture " is appealed to as the bare visual datum, the deter-
minant or suggester ; and it cannot at the same time be the
determined, or suggested, percept. What Berkeley does is to
make his picture both these incompatibles at once : and that
is why he is able to invest the "pictures" with distinctions
described in the question-begging words horizontal and
vertical. The sensible appearances of an already tri-dimen-
sional world admit of these distinctions. But sense-data do
not. And even if we cut out the reference to the third
dimension which these words imply, and confine ourselves to
upper and lower situation of the pictures, the fact remains
that ' situation ' implies an objective order as given. Berke-
ley's diaphanous plain is already objectified ; and it is this
objectivity that allows Berkeley to speak of upper and lower
situation in his ' pictures '.

The confusion arises because Berkeley is trying to get
done on the level of sensory or presentational consciousness,
work which is already done for, but not through, sensible ap-
pearances ; work of which we have presentations only in its
resultant, the sensible appearance or percept. The "pic-
tures" to which Berkeley appeals here as determinants, are
already determined or schematised : they are no mere raw-
material for thought to work up into a world : they are
already pictures of a world, — even if it be only of a world in
two dimensions.

And, incidentally, there does not seem to be any reason
whatever for supposing the existence of a primitive object of
vision schematised in two dimensions only. The motive for
such a supposition is of course obvious enough, — the sense-
datum is thought to be somehow proportional to the retinal
image, and the retinal image is of course in two dimensions.1
Ergo the primitive visual datum can only be a representation
or picture in two dimensions. Distance is a line turned end-
wise to the eyes and cannot be represented in two dimensions

1 Though it is worth noting that the retina is not a plane surface.

302 H. N. HANDLE : SENSE-DATA AND SENSIBLE APPEAEANCES

on the retina, — ergo, it cannot be ' represented ' in perception.
It seems incredible that theory of knowledge should have
been dominated by so crude a conception, but it certainly
has been so dominated. And the reason is that psychology
.accepted the existence of a sense-datum proportional to, or a
function of, retinal impression.

A study of the conditions under which judgment, or con-
scious change of viewpoint, can alter the sensible appearance, is
badly needed. The general rule seems to be (and this is the
only real justification for regarding sensible appearances as
something " given") that the sensible appearance is not nor-
mally subject to alteration by a conflicting judgment. The
determinants of the sensible appearance must work through
the schema, or general form, of the experience. But yet there
are numerous cases in which judgment can alter the percept :
for example those double-perspective geometrical figures
which can be made to assume one or other of two alternative
.sensible appearances, more or less as the result of a conscious
and deliberate change of viewpoint. (I say 'more or less,'
because to some extent the appearance changes spontaneously
and againat your will, — an unconscious determination defying
your conscious attempt to determine the percept.) But this
power to determine percepts obviously works within narrow
limits only : you cannot see the straight stick thrust half
under water as straight, or the moon on the horizon as equal
in size to the moon at the zenith, or five miles of middle and
far distance as perspectively smaller than a few feet of fore-
ground,— however hard you may try. The sensible appearances
have been pre-determined, and consciousness, operating so to
speak externally, is powerless to interfere with them.

Berkeley's ' prenotions ' stand for meanings constitutive of
the sensible appearance. As such, they no longer exist as
merely separable meanings (judgments) external to the
sensible appearance : they exist as immanent in and consti-
tutive of the sensible appearance. The merely external and
separable meaning (i.e., the judgment) may be, and very often
is, contradictory of the immanent or constitutive meaning
of the sensible appearance. The law of contradiction cannot
prevent us from seeing one thing and judging another. Per-
ception or sensible appearance is not judgment-made ; though
it is meaning-made.

The ' picture ' corresponding to the ' horizontal image ' of
Berkeley is determined by the prenotion (immanent or con-
stitutive meaning) of the foreshortening of lines turned end-
wise to the eye. If you measure the perspective value of five
miles of flat country against your walking-stick held erect it

IN SIZE-DISTANCE PERCEPTION. 303

is but an infinitesimal fraction of your stick that is superposed
•on the five miles of landscape. But now incline your stick
into a more or less horizontal position, endwise to your eyes,
and of course the reverse becomes true ; the further landscape
will be beneath a larger part of the stick's length. And that
is how you see the prospect, — you are incapable of seeing the
actual perspective value, because your schema of perception
carries with it the ' prenotion ' of foreshortening as an im-
manent meaning constitutive of the sensible appearance.

This analysis of the size-distance percept has aimed at
bringing out the fact that the sensible appearance is in every
respect the reverse of that hypothetical entity the sense-
datum, — being, as it is, the fluid product of an elaborately
constructive schematism of perception. Starting with the
denial of the sense-datum, the analysis ends with the affirma-
tion of the sensible appearance. It remains to emphasise
some of the points of difference between the former and the
latter.

By drawing a clear distinction between the psychological
iact, the sensible appearance, and the psychologist's fiction,
the sense-datum, we definitely reject that misleading psycho-
logical metaphor which makes of sensations or sense-data the
raw material of knowledge, the stuff on which the mind
operates. There is no such stuff of knowledge, no such raw
material, introspectively discoverable ; and, if there were,
mind could not operate with such refractory material, for
nothing could be done with it beyond that combining and
disjoining to which (consistently enough) the older psychology
confined the functions of the intellect. Reid observes,1 " It
is a very fine and a just observation of Locke that, as no
human art can create a single particle of matter, and the
whole extent of our power over the material world consists
in compounding, combining, and disjoining the matter made
to our hands ; so in the world of thought, the materials are
all made by nature and can only be variously combined and
disjoined by us ". But in fact the mind is an ariist whose
art is not of this base mechanic order. It is formative of its
own materials. Dr. Stout L/ has drawn attention to the
passage in which Hume admits the ability of the mind to
supply a missing shade in a series of shades of a colour, in-
dependently of previous experience.3 Hume remarks that

1 Enquiry, chap, v., § vii., Locke's Etsay, II., xii., 1.

2 Analytic Psychology (190;?), vol. ii., p. 54.
3 Hume's Treatise, I., i, 1.

304 H. N. EANDLE : SENSE-DATA AND SENSIBLE APPEARANCES

"the instance is so particular and singular that 'tis scarce
worth our observing," — so blind could a preconception of the
mechanical nature of mental operations make an acute ob-
server, to the significance of a phenomenon such as this of
'relative suggestion,' which pervades the whole work of the
mind. The outstanding feature of the sensible appearance is-
its plasticity and fluidity, as contrasted with the stubborn
and superficial rigidity of the sense-datum. Its boundary
lines are not fixed, and there is always more in it than ' meets
the eye '. In view of the infinitely • complex cross-currents of
meaning which carry and constitute it, the so-called image,
however determinate and ' given ' it may be at the moment
of its appearance in consciousness (and it always seems to be
a given and determinate thing), nevertheless has more of
expression than of impression in it ; and its possibilities as
expressive of the real nature of things, are not subject to the
limitations which the supposed impression (or sense-datum)
seems to carry with it. In this connexion I would emphasise
the point that the sensible appearance is not superficial. The
truth is that the superficies (the supposed sense-datum)
cannot be separated from the depth of meaning which con-
stitutes and underlies the sensible appearance. The sensible
appearance is (so to speak) essentially tri-dimensional. Indeed
the perception of the third dimension in space is possible only
because the sensible appearance has this ' third dimension '
of experience, namely immanent and constitutive meaning.
Berkeley's difficulty about the perception of distance, as
being a line turned endwise to the fund of the eye, does
really arise from his reduction of the sensible appearance
to the .merely superficial image. And part of the difficulty
as regards the apprehension of substance is of a similar order.
Crudely put it amounts simply to this, that the image or
sense-impression only reveals the outside or surface of the
object, — that we can never hope to see inside things. A
superficial image which has no depth of immanent meaning
might gives us the qualities which form, so to speak, the
surface of things, but it can never give us the thing in its
substantiality, transparent in three dimensions. Our ' senses *
can, no doubt, give us any number of cross-sections of sub-
stance ; but never substance in its solid integrity. But, in
truth, we do " see " distance, and we do " see " things solid :
the defect is not in our sense-perception, but in the misleading
analysis of sense-perception into sense-data.

Again, the sense-datum is supposed to precede a meaning
which it subsequently acquires; whereas the sensible ap-
pearance is inseparable from and preconditioned by the

IN SIZE-DISTANCE PERCEPTION. 305

meaning which it expresses. I can find no reason to believe
in the existence of a meaningless impression. It seems to
me that, logically and psychologically, meaning is the pre-
supposition and condition precedent of every sensible ap-
pearance ; sensible appearances being never impressional, but
always expressional, in nature. Sensible appearances are
the language in which the poetic faculty of mind tries to
find, under limitations, an expression, not altogether inade-
quate, for those meanings which we call physical facts. The
sensible appearances are 'unreal' in so far as they are in-
complete and inadequate expressions of the meanings. We
have not tried to show that the sensible appearance is ever a
completely adequate expression of the real (for it never is),
but only that it is very much more than an * image,' — that it
has the plasticity which is characteristic of an effort to
express a meaning. But if what Berkeley delighted to call
the Divine Visual Language is charged with a meaning
greater than it can express we need not so far detach and
" immobilise " it as to make it appear incapable of conveying
any meaning whatever.1

There is another aspect of the difference between the sense-
datum and the sensible appearance, which may be exemplified
in the obvious fact that we can perceive motion : but which,
in its fullest implication, means no less a difference than that
between a connected experience and a disconnected system of
floating ' ideas '. Experience is not connected through
' ideas ' and on the surface, but in the depth through
meanings, — and to confine it to superficial impressions —
sense-data — is necessarily to disintegrate it. Lockian ' ideas '
are but the flotsam of a universe wrecked on a false psy-
chology, and out of the flotsam popular psychology labours
in vain to reconstruct the continuity of the real world as
given in perception. The entirely gratuitous difficulty which
is often felt about the perception of motion, in particular,
simply arises from the substitution of sense-data for the truly
functional thought-element, the sensible appearance. There
can be no sense-datum or impression of movement, because

1 Cp. Bergson's dictum " Percevoir signifie iminobiliser " (Matiere et
Mtfmoire, p. 232, Paris: 1913). Bergson's " pure percept" has a sus-
picious resemblance to the sense-datum. As Hoffding points out " Berg-
son makes too great and too external a difference between the immediate
given and the psychical activity. Nothing is given to us, no subject
arises, without psychical activity, whether we notice it, or whether we do
not " (Hoffding, Modern Philosophers, English translation, p. 247). But
Bergson teaches the better way of regarding perception in such passages
as Matiere et Me'moire (Paris : 1913), p. 232— "Elle s'etale immobile, en
surface, mais elle vit et vibre en profondeur ".

L 20

306 H. N. HANDLE : SENSE-DATA AND SENSIBLE APPEAEANCES.

the sense-datum, like the individual cinematographic film,
stands for a moment of rest, and though you may attempt to
counterfeit continuity (as the cinematograph does) by filling
the interstices of your fragmentary sense-data with an infinity
of sub-conscious impressions or petites perceptions, you will
never succeed in passing from instantaneous immobilities to
a moving continuity. But there is no reason why the moving
continuity should not find expression in the sensible appear-
ance, though it defies every attempt to reduce it to a series of
'impressions of sense'. The sensible appearance of move-
ment is a sufficiently familiar experience, and one about
which, if the psychologist had asked no leading questions,
introspection would have told no lies. It is not wonderful
that behaviourist psychology should attempt to ignore con-
sciousness, as not having any functional significance in the
thought-process, seeing that traditional psychology has con-
fined consciousness to simulacra, which by their immobility
and detachment are debarred from playing any role in the
moving drama of experience, — being, like Berkeley's ideas,
'visibly inactive '.

III.— MR. RUSSELL'S THEORY OF THE
EXTERNAL WORLD.

BY C. A. STRONG.

IN his recently published Analysis of Mind Mr. Eussell
reiterates the neo-realistic or phenomenalistic theory which
he first developed in Our Knowledge of the External World,
but now in the setting of a sensationalistic psychology and
metaphysics. As I am in complete sympathy with such a
psychology, and have myself tried to work out a metaphysics
which finds the type of the real in sensation, my observations
in the following article will be made from a near and friendly
point of view. If he will allow me to say so, I admire his
psychology immensely ; but I have some reserves to make in
regard to his theory of knowledge.

I.

Mr. Eussell agrees with the neo-realists in holding that
matter and mind represent two different ways of arranging
a single stuff, ' experience ' or ' sensation ' — namely, in per-
spectives of physical objects and in biographies. He differs
from them, first, in admitting that those perspectives which
are appearances to us human beings are immediately depend-
ent on events inside our bodies, and more or less distorted
by the medium of nerves and brain through which they are
perceived ; whereas other neo-realists hold, I think, that the
perspectives are accurate visions of things as they exist out-
side us. We may be sure that, if Mr. Russell makes this
admission, it is because the facts have been too much for
him ; his natural tendency is to think that the colours we
see actually exist, as they seem to, in things outside us.

What are the facts which necessitate this admission ?
They are, first, the time and space relations of visual appear-
ances— the fact that they show us events as occurring, not
at the moment when they do occur, but at the moment when
the report of them reaches the body ; the fact that they show
us objects, not in their true shape and dimensions, but as

308 c. A. STEONG:

they must appear from the point of view of the body, i.e., with
a certain amount of perspective distortion. They are,
secondly, such exceptional visual phenomena as after-images
and muscae volitantes, which show that an appearance, due
in reality wholly to causes within the body, may yet be seen
outside it, just as if it existed there. These facts prove that
objects and events outside the body are conditions of what
is seen and heard only indirectly, and that the one and only
immediate condition is the event in the nervous system.

This state of things, of course, gives rise to the crux of
realistic theories, namely, to explain how a sensation that
varies directly only with one physical object, the nervous
system, can yet -vary with another physical object sufficiently
to give knowledge of it. The commonest answer is that it
varies with the nervous system only as to its occurrence or
non-occurrence, but that as to what it shows us, i.e., the quali-
ties and their spatial arrangement, it varies directly with the
object. The trouble with this answer is that it is in conflict
with the facts. The sensation does vary with the object, in
all those cases where it gives correct knowledge of it, but it
does not do so directly ; it varies directly only with the brain-
process, and with the object in case the brain-process varies
with it. If the brain-process does not vary with the object
— as, for instance, when we have taken a dose of santonin —
the sensation will give false knowledge of it, i.e., all visible
objects will be tinged with yellow. 'And, in all cases, we
may say, the sensation is better adapted to give knowledge
of the brain-process than to give knowledge of the external
object.

The other common answer is that you must not pay any
attention to physiological facts when you are discussing such
deep questions as the nature of knowledge, for, if you do,
you get into difficulties with your intuitive theory of knowing
and are tempted to believe in things which you cannot logic-
ally prove. Mr. Eussell deserves credit for recognising the
facts and seeking to square his theory with them ; though
I am not sure that he makes any attempt to explain why
reality should be tied into so peculiar a knot. Yet a rounded
and adequate theory of perception should explain not only
how this function is related to the object, but also how it is
related to the brain ; it should account for both these rela-
tions of the mind to matter. Mr. Kussell, I think, contents
himself with the fact that perception is connected with the
brain, and lets it go at that.

He agrees with the neo-realists, again, in holding that
objects continue to exist when we no longer see or touch

ME. RUSSELL'S THEORY OF THE EXTERNAL WORLD. 309

them ; indeed, he would of course not be a realist at all if
he did not hold this. But other neo-realists, I think, suppose
objects when not perceived to be exactly like what they are
when perceived, and to retain the very colours and the very
spatial arrangement which we perceive them to have. Mr.
Russell cannot admit this, since the nature of what we per-
ceive is determined at least in large part by the medium of
nerves and brain through which we perceive them ; and he
therefore maintains that those perspectives which are not
given to human beings or animals are very unlike those
perspectives which are. They are still perspectives, nota
bene, but they are very unlike.

We shall perhaps not misrepresent him if we say that, at
the points of space which are reached by light from an object,
there is something, of the nature of sensation, but as unlike
what we see as the physical process occurring there is unlike
the process occurring in the brain. Let us, for convenience,
describe this something as a ' sub-sensation '. Now, I have
a difficulty with the notion that a sub-sensation is a per-
spective. The formation of a perspective seems to be im-
possible without a lens, to draw the light-rays coming from
each point of an object together into a corresponding point
on a retina or plate, thus forming an image. In discussing
sub-sensations Mr. Russell has mentioned the plate, but he
has not mentioned the lens ; yet, without it, all the points of
the object (i.e., on this surface of it) would send light-rays
to each point of the plate, and all the light-rays would be
confused together, and there would be no image or perspec-
tive. Indeed, when we consider that there are light-rays
entering that point from all quarters of the heavens, it is
evident that, apart from such a process of analysis as the
lens permits, what exists there is only a synthesis of effects,
and not anything like the stars from which the rays pro-
ceeded. I can hardly suppose that Mr. Russell, with his
competent knowledge of physics, has overlooked this point,
and yet it appears plainly inconsistent with his description
of the sub-sensations as perspectives or appearances.

Since, however, the perspectives can by analysis be separ-
ated out, let us assume, for argument's sake, that they are
there, and that things existing unperceived are still perspec-
tives ; and let us come to the central point of the theory, the
definition of the physical object as ' a system of perspectives '.
A table, on this view, is not a single thing, existing separately
from all the perspectives which you might have if you ex-
amined it from different points of view, but is simply a name
for the sum of these perspectives. They alone are ultimate

310 c. A. STEONG:

constituents of reality. A star, in the same way, is a name
for all the perspectives of it, as seen, photographed, or not
even photographed, that are disseminated throughout the
universe. And I suppose that the nuclear part of an
atom is not a bit of matter, hut a name for the perspectives
that would appear to a physicist who should invent a super-
microscope sufficiently powerful to reveal it.

What first strikes one in this theory is the curious reversal
of the spatial position of objects which it seems to involve
— objects being apparently everywhere except in the place
where we see and feel them. Thus, as you approach a table,
you get a better and better perspective of it until you are
quite near, and then confused perspectives, and after that
there is nothing. (If the perspectives were views of the
table, not constituents of it, it would be quite intelligible
that we should get them only from points outside itself.)
But we must remember that, on Mr. Russell's theory, space
has no existence except as an internal character of the per-
spectives : the continuous ' public ' space, in which common
sense supposes all objects to exist, is only a mental construc-
tion. So that what I have been saying is not that there is
a real place with no perspectives in it, but only that no per-
spectives exist which are views of the table from that place.
It is not the less a paradox that light should have to proceed
from a place, in which there is no constituent of the object,
as a condition of the arising of a perspective of it, and yet
that the place (and, I suppose, the light too, with its velocity)
should have no existence apart from this or some other
perspective.

But the greatest paradox is that which arises with reference
to time. To fix the object at a definite instant, we must
take as our example of an object an event. There is a game
played in England, of which I regret to say I have no
personal experience, called cricket, in which the principal
event is, I think, the batting of a ball. Let us take this
event, happening at 12 o'clock on Thursday, as our example.
It breaks up, on Mr. Russell's theory, into a great number of
perspectives, partly in (or at least closely connected with)
the bodies of the players and spectators, and partly in the
air. Now each and every one of these perspectives is ' late,'
by the time required for the light-rays to pass from the
batsman's bat to the eyes of the spectators or to the points
in the air. They therefore all happen after 12 o'clock. The
paradox, then, is that a multitude of events, all happening
after 12 o'clock, should be the constituents of an event
happening at 12 o'clock.

MB. BUSSELL'S THEOBY OF THE EXTEBNAL WOBLD. 311

It is no use pointing out that 12 o'clock is the mathematical
limit of all the perspectives, to which we are necessarily led
when we consider them as a system : that does not make
the event at 12 o'clock any the more real. Of course Mr.
Russell may escape from the difficulty, with all honours, by
holding, as before in the case of space, that time is only an
internal characteristic of the perspectives, and that they are
not really themselves in time : but I am not sure that he
wishes to be as transcendental as this. Doubtless his theory,
as thus interpreted, would be an accurate transcript of the
phenomenal facts ; but solipsism is that. And it would be a
a strange realism, surely, that maintained both that the
perspectives are not in time, as they appear to be, and that
the event at 12 o'clock did not really happen.

We may draw one inference from these paradoxes, and
that is that the object, as physical science conceives it, is not
correctly denned as the system of all the perspectives (even
of the ( regular ' ones, i.e., those undistorted by the intervening
medium), but is rather their mathematical limit. This is
evidently true as regards its time ; and its shape and size
are not those of any of the perspectives, since these are all
distorted, but are the shape and size of that object which,
situated in the place where the object is seen, would produce
the perspectives on the retinas and in the minds of observers,
according to the laws of perspective. The physical object
is the implicate of all the perspectives ; its relation to them
is somewhat like that of a Platonic idea to the particulars
which constitute its exemplification. This is why the object
is felt to be given, whole and entire, as it were, in each per-
spective.

This antithesis between the one physical object and the
many perspectives exists alike, whether we regard the former
as a real existence, or, with Mr. Kussell, as only a mental
construction. It may still be (so far as we have yet gone)
that the only existences and, so to speak, metaphysical
supports of the object are the appearances.

In any case, the appearances upon which an object depends
for its reality cannot be the visual ones. For, if they were,,
what would happen to a table when you turned off the:
electricity and left it in the dark ? The absence of light has
suppressed not only the perspectives in human minds, but
also those inferior perspectives upon which we relied to give
continued existence to objects. And yet the table, according
to common sense, exists just as truly and just as completely
as when the light was on. Are we then to be realists for
the sunshine and the electric light, but idealists for the dark?

312 c. A. STEONG:

But, of course, there are still the tactile appearances for us
to fall back upon.

These suffice to maintain the table in existence so long as
we actually touch it. But what happens if we take our
hands away ? What becomes of a penny when you put it
in your pocket ? Are there tactile appearances in immediate
contact with it — for it is only there that tactile sensations
are produced — and is it to these tactile sub-sensations that it
owes its continued existence ? Mr. Kussell has not worked
out his theory in detail for the case of tactile appearances,
and I am obliged to proceed by surmise. But, if there are
such tactile sub-sensations, then apparently the penny exists
by producing tactile sub-sensations in the pocket, and the
pocket in its turn by performing the like service for the
penny. We have here another instance of that curious re-
versal of the spatial position of objects which seems to be
involved in Mr. Eussell's theory.

But, surely, these tactile phenomena in the penny and
the pocket are effects, and they imply, each on its side,
preceding causes in the pocket and in the penny respectively,
which may also be of the nature of sub-sensations. Suppose
what touches the penny is not the pocket but my hand.
And let the penny be warm. Now, physically, any warmth
that passes from the penny into my hand and produces
sensations there is a gradual process, beginning in the penny
and ending in my hand. One of two things, then. Either
this process, so long as it remains in the penny, has no real
existence, and the penny, when I put it back in my pocket,
wholly ceases to be. Or else it pre-exists to my sensations,
as their cause, and then, if we adopt Mr. Eussell's meta-
physical hypothesis, it will consist of sub-sensations.

It will be seen that I have accepted this hypothesis, and
simply put the sub-sensations in a different place : not beside
our own sensations, as something bearing a similar relation
to the object, but beyond them, as that in which the being
of the object consists. Or, to put it differently, I have
conceived them, not as other appearances, but as that which
appears.

II.

This, of course, is something that a philosopher who re-
spects himself must not do. Sub-sensations, so conceived,
are things in themselves, and things in themselves are un-
knowable. You cannot go beyond your own sensations, or
the world as they present it to you. Moreover, if you did,

ME. KUSSELL'S THEOEY OF THE EXTEENAL WOELD. 313

you would have two kinds of objects on your hands, the
objects of experience and these objects of fancy, and you
could not possibly explain how these two worlds of objects
were joined into one.

The ultimate ground of this judgment is the assumption
that sensible appearances are themselves the objects seen
and touched, that they are existences, and that there is no
accompanying element of belief, referring them to something
other than themselves.

I shall try to show (1) that appearances are not existences,
but only sensations in so far as they are used as signs ;
(2) that they are always (in cases where they give knowledge)
accompanied by belief; (3) that the belief is to the effect
that an object exists, having the characters which the ap-
pearance shows us. This belief is not a formulated one ; it
is only expressed in our acting as if the appearance showed
us an object. The object is thus not inferred from the
appearance, but directly known through it.

Mr. Eussell accepts the phenomenalistic principle — as we
may call the denial of the legitimacy of transcendence — and
his theory is, in the main, the application of it to perception.
Does he adhere to it strictly everywhere ? The question is
pertinent ; for a principle which you can disregard when it
becomes inconvenient is perhaps only a prejudice.

(1) Mr. Eussell admits that we know the existence of
other minds. Now other minds, on his view, are groups of
sensations lying wholly beyond those that compose our
minds. They are thus exactly in the position which I have
suggested for the sub-sensations constituting physical objects.
Yet he holds that they can be known. It is true that they
are known, in his opinion, by inference ; that he does not
attribute to the inference complete logical rigour ; and that
he generously helps it out with a dose of irresistible belief.
Now I do not understand the status of such belief in a
phenomenalistic philosophy. I should argue, either that the
belief was unjustified (and Mr. Eussell does seem to retain
it with a certain apologetic air), or that the philosophy was
false.

('2) Mr. Eussell's account of memory represents a complete
departure from the phenomenalistic principle. If he were
to follow here the pattern set by his account of perception,
he would say that when we remember an event on a number
of later occasions, as we often do, what is present to our
minds is a series of images — or ' retrospectives,' as we might
call them ; that the past event is the temporal limit of these
' retrospectives/ a mere mental construction ; and that to

314 c. A. STRONG:

suppose it was anything more, or ever really happened, in-
volves the fallacy of things in themselves. Instead of this,
he admits that the past experience or sensation lies wholly
beyond the present memory-image, and can yet be known
by means of it. What is more, he does not regard the
knowledge as inferential, but as direct. But, if a present
image can give knowledge of a past sensation, why cannot a
present sensation give knowledge of a present or just preced-
ing sub-sensation ?

(3) Mr. Kussell holds, I think I may say, that physical
things are known to exist when they are no longer seen or
touched. Is such knowledge really consistent with the
phenomenalistic principle? He will again be obliged to eke
out his logic with irresistible belief. For how is it possible
that perception, which by its nature can only inform us of
the existence of objects while we perceive them, should give
us the slightest logical ground for inferring their existence
when they are not perceived ? Their reappearance is 110
proof ; for it might be a re-creation. But if, when we see
or touch them, the visual or tactile appearance is accompanied
by a belief that something having those characters exists,
then it is natural that its existence, which is independent of
its appearing, should continue when the appearance ceases.
Thus the continued existence of objects follows intelligibly
from anti-phenomenalism, but not from phenomenalism.

Mr. Russell believes, as we have seen, that the perspectives
which are not appearances to human beings or animals are
quite unlike those which are ; and I have given a reason
for thinking that they are not even perspectives. If so,
sub -sensations behind the visual appearance could hardly be
more unlike it than these sub-sensations beside it. And
they have the advantage that an act of cognition (cognition
as I have above analysed it) is directly brought to bear upon
them : so that we have means of knowing their existence.
That the substance of things — though still of the nature of
sensation — must be somewhat unlike their appearances, is
evident from the fact that the visual and tactile appearances
are unlike. Now we cannot suppose that objects persist in
the two separate forms of perspectives and, so to say, con-
tacts— that the same object consists, when unperceived, of
these two different kinds of sub-sensations : on the contrary,
there must be but one kind of sub-sensations, and the
difference between visual and tactile appearances must be
relative to us.

What is even more important, we cannot suppose that
there are two different kinds of space existing externally,

ME. RUSSELL'S THEORY OF THE EXTERNAL WORLD. 315-

one visual and the other tactile, but must assume that the
space we see is the same space as that which we touch.
We thus reaffirm what is, to my mind, the most vital tenet,
of common sense — the unity and continuity of space. And
the same argument leads us to the unity and continuity of
time. I cannot get over my surprise at Mr. Eussell's sin-
gular contentment with a world that is discontinuous.

Now let us compare the metaphysics I have sketched with-
his metaphysics, from the point of view of economy of
thought. At first sight his system might seem to be the
simpler — since he assumes only appearances, while I assume
appearances and things that appear. (My appearances, as
I have said and shall soon explain at greater length, are only
sensations in so far as they are used as signs.) But Mr.
Eussell assumes for each object an infinite number of per-
spectives, all of which are actual ; and as the world contains
(we may say) an infinite number of objects, that makes the-
total number of actual perspectives infinitely infinite.
Whereas, on my theory, the only actual perspectives are
those which appear to some man or animal, all the others
being merely possible; and, apart from perspectives, what
exists is simply the sub-sensations constituting the object.
If entia non sunt multiplicand a praeter necessitatem, as Mr.
Eussell insists, it seems to me that my theory has the advan-
tage.

III.

I have now dealt pretty completely with Mr. Eussell's-
theory so far as it concerns the relation between appearances
and objects ; and I turn to the relation between appear-
ances and sensations. I believe that, as he fails to make a>
necessary distinction, or at least fails to conceive correctly
the distinction, between appearances and the things that
appear, so he fails to make a necessary distinction between,
appearances and the sensations which convey them ; and
that the whole situation becomes very much clearer when
this distinction is properly made.

I say he does not make it ; but, in point of fact, he has
made it, though not, I think, with all the desirable clearness,
in his analysis of memory. After explaining that a memory
consists of an image, accompanied by a belief, to the effect
that ' this occurred,7 he says that of course the ' this ' does
not refer to the image as a present existence ; and adds that
the belief confers upon the image something called ' mean-
ing'. Now I do not wish to be over-critical, and urge that

316 c. A. STRONG:

the 'meaning,' being that which is believed, is at least logi-
cally prior to the belief, and presumably is not conferred on
the image by the belief but by some other mental function.
Let it suffice that Mr. Kussell has here explicitly recognised
that cognition, at any rate in the case of memory, involves a
category which is distinct from the image as a present
mental state, without being on that account identical with
the object. And what I shall now try to show is that a
similar distinction requires to be made in the case of sensa-
tion.

When, for instance, an outer object acts on the body and
calls forth a visual sensation, that is not the whole account
of what happens : for (at least if the object is to be one dis-
tinctly perceived) we turn our attention, i.e., fix our gaze, in
the direction of the object, and accommodate th e eye-muscles
to it in such a way that it is seen as at a certain distance.
Sensation and motion, in other words, converge upon the
object, and the datum of vision is not simply the sensation,
but the sensation as referred to that spot — it is not the sen-
sation as an existence, but the ' meaning ' which the sensa-
tion conveys. Suppose the thing I look at is a grate-fire :
the datum is not the mere quality light, but something
luminous situated at a certain distance. And if at the same
time I hold out my hands, there are not two data, the heat
and the light, but one, a hot and luminous thing, a grate-fire.
There are not two spaces given, one that I see, and one in
which I hold out my hands, but the one space in which the
grate- fire appears at a certain point. In short, the datum is
not restricted to one sense, but is the datum of all the senses
that are brought to bear upon the object ; and it is not in
its nature really a sensible thing, but something grasped by
means of sense, something understood or ' meant '.

To this it may be objected that what is meant is the object
itself. What need of erecting an intermediate category be-
tween the sensation which means and the object which is
meant? The answer is that we sometimes mean, in this
sensible way, objects that do not exist — as in the hallucina-
tions of the insane, or in dreaming — and that a distinction
"has to be made between these dream objects, which are un-
real, and yet present to the mind, and the sensations convey-
ing them, which are real. It follows that, even in normal
perception, the appearance presented by the use of a sensation
in order to mean an object is not the object itself ; but is only
its presentment to a mind.

But an opposite objection may be made. What we have
called data of sensation may be admitted, but it may be

ME. EUSSELL'S THEOEY OF THE EXTEENAL WOELD. 817"

denied that there are any sensations, distinct from the data.
Mr. Russell, on the whole, means by ' sensations ' the data ;
he speaks of sensations and of appearances interchangeably.
But surely you can, after looking at a grate-fire, turn your
attention to the mere sensation of light, a thing that is a
state of yourself in the same way that a pain is ; or to the
mere sensation of heat, which a moment ago was felt to be
the heat of the fire. You can use these feelings as media of
cognition, or you can consider them in themselves, and in the
latter case what you consider is not a mere detached quality of
the fire, for it is now recognised to be a state of yourself. In
my opinion, such states constitute the ego, or at least the
particular part of it that perceives. Such a state was what
enabled the ego to remember. Either sensations, distinct
from the appearances, must be admitted in perception, or
else no present mental image can exist in memory.

Mr. Eussell no longer believes in an ' act,' by which the
appearance is apprehended ; this is perhaps the most import-
ant change in his views announced in this book. If by * act '
he means a diaphanous awareness contemplating the appear-
ance, or the deed of a punctiform ego that has the awareness,
the change is to be applauded ; for neither of these things is
really observable. But things having the same functional
relations reappear on the sensationalistic theory. For, if we
admit that the object was perceived by the use of the sensa-
tion as a sign, then the sensation, being a state of the self,
occupies the position of ego, and its use as a sign is the act
of awareness. Mr. Russell holds that sensations, considered
in themselves, are not cognitive. Quite so : they are cog-
nitive only so far as they are used as signs.

The great defect of most thinking on the subject of per-
ception is that, at the very outset, the sensations (e.g., of light
and heat, in the case of the grate-fire) are substituted for the
true datum, the appearance — the object of introspection for
the appearance in perception. Or, say, the two are confused,
and treated as one, and statements are made of the fused
product which really apply, now to the appearance, now to-
the sensation. It is as if, in the case of memory, the image
were treated as of course that which is present to the mind,,
as the primary datum, out of which by some subsequent
process a memory is evolved. Whereas in truth we do not
think of the image at all, but what is before our minds is
the vision of the past. It is only by turning our attention
away from this vision to the present state of the self which-
it involves that we become aware of the image.

I will illustrate this distinction by one more example. The;

'318 c. A. STEONG:

perspectives which play so large a part in Mr. Eussell's
theory are, I think, in his conception tridimensional; and
there can be no question that the datum of vision includes
three dimensions. But, when we look into the matter, we
find that depth is not given in quite the same manner that
length and breadth are — it is not strictly visual, it cannot be
found in the visual field as a colour can, but is a feature of
the datum brought before us by means of sensations in the
muscles of accommodation and convergence. Thus all that
is strictly visual is a coloured field in two dimensions. Mr.
Russell is not right, then, when he speaks of the perspectives
as sensations ; they are appearances, and the sensations are
the visual and muscular feelings that enable us to see them.

Nothing therefore could be further from the truth than
the view that our visual sensations are a part of the object.
They are in their nature impressions on us, produced by its
action on our bodies, and when used as signs they enable us
to see the object, bnt they are not even then a part of it.
They are only visions of it, and as unsubstantial as visions
proverbially are.

It will now be intelligible how I could maintain that ap-
pearances are not existences. The only existences are, in
perception, the sub-sensations constituting the object and the
sensations that enable us to perceive it; in memory, the
sensation remembered and the image by means of which we
remember it. The world consists entirely of sensations and
sub-sensations (the former being, of course, a development out
of the latter) arranged in space and time.

This distinction permits us to bring order into the perplexed
question of causal relations in cognition. It is felt that the
object cannot be the cause of the appearance ; because the
appearance is the revelation of the object, and thus bears an
entirely different relation to it. And yet it is undeniable
that perception is called forth by the action of the object on
the body. Indeed, the eye is an organ specially evolved to
produce a sensation, the parts of which have the same
spatial arrangement as the parts of the object. Everything
becomes clear if we consider that what the object calls forth
is only the sensation, and that the appearance is due to the
' intentional ' use of the sensation as a sign of the object. In
the same way, a past sensation leaves behind an image, the
relation between the two being causal, but the vision of
the past is not the image itself but its intentional use for
the past sensation.

The terms I have thus far used, 'appearance' and 'meaning,'
are extrinsic designations, marking the thing referred to by

MR. RUSSELL'S THEORY OF THE EXTERNAL WORLD. 319

the fact that it appears to some one, or that some one means
or thinks of it ; but, considered in itself, this thing is an
' essence ' — that is, an entity having the kind of being that
anything must have in order that you may think of it. An
essence is thus the entire concrete nature of a thing, in
abstraction from its existence. It is easy to show that, if
there is to be knowledge at all, it must be by means of
essences.

I assume that the world is continuous in space and in
time, that its parts are separately existent, and that it has
no greater unity than this continuity. Now an animal that
knows is confined in his existence to a certain place and a
certain time. How then is he to know things in other
places and at other times, whose existence is separate from
his own — things, indeed, separated from him by the entire
intervening distance or lapse of time, or both? One hy-
pothesis is that his existence goes out to them, by a mysterious
act of intuition. But this is contradicted by the fact that
cognition rests on causality. Another hypothesis is that
their existence obligingly comes to him — as in M. Bergson's
theory that the past still exists in the present, or in Mr.
Russell's theory that my visual sensations are an actual part
of the star I see. In reality these views contradict the
nature of space and time — since the past is what no longer
exists, and yet M. Bergson says that it still exists ; since the
star is at a great distance from me, and yet Mr. Russell says
that it is a part of me.

The utmost that cognition can do is to show me an essence ,
ivhich is the essence of the object, and to lead me to act as if
that essence were real, at the place or time indicated by my
action.

I will not elaborate this theory, for it seems to me to
follow so necessarily from what has gone before that the
demonstration is now complete.

To sum up, Mr. Russell has given us a theory of the ex-
ternal world based on the phenomenalistic principle, and has
worked it out with the greatest ingenuity. With that keen
logical zest which characterises him, he has shown that a
complete science of physics can be constructed simply upon
the basis of appearances, without the assumption of anything
that appears. But this achievement has the same value as
that of a psychologist who should show that a complete
science of the human mind can be constructed simply
upon the basis of observations of human behaviour, without
the assumption of any thoughts or feelings behind that

320 ME.- EUSSELL'S THEOEY OF THE EXTEENAL WOELD.

behaviour. Such a psychologist might believe himself to be
proceeding according to the only truly scientific method, and
he might draw his conclusions with exemplary logical rigour ;
but his conception of the object of his science would be a
mistaken one, because pure phenomenalism as applied to the
human body is false. I would ask Mr. Eussell, and those
who are tempted to agree with him, to consider whether
phenomenalism as applied to other objects than the human
body is not also false.

IV.— VISUAL IMAGES, WORDS AND DREAMS.

BY JOSHUA C. GEEGOEY.

HOMEE compared the swift flight of Hera to the dart of
thought in a travelled man who, touched by some incident
to rapid recollection, swiftly inspects, in memory, scenes
from his past life "and considers in his wise heart, 'would
that I were here or there ' ".l Such pictures of the past,
either recollected as occurrences or imaginatively surveyed
without reminiscence, are familiar experiences. Visual
mental images which reproduce past experiences as they
were SEEN may flash upon the mind in panoramic spread, as
they flashed upon Homer's travelled man, or they may be
casual, and perhaps vaguely incomplete, mental pictures.
Bertrand Eussell probably thought of this milder visualisa-
tion as he wrote: "When you hear New York spoken of,
some image probably comes into your mind, either of the
place itself (if you have been there), or of some picture of it
(if you have not) ".2 Homer's comparison of Hera's swift-
ness to the rapidity of panoramic recollection declares his
familiarity with the visual mental images of memory and
imagination. He would have stared at Watson's proposal to
"throw out imagery altogether" from psychology and have
assented to Bertrand Kussell's comment : "If you try to
persuade any uneducated person that she cannot call up a
visual picture of a friend sitting in a chair, but can only use
words describing what such an occurrence would be like, she
will conclude that you are mad".3 Homer's surprise is
significant ; for Watson is probably eager to jettison visual
images because he is not favoured with them. It is signi-
ficant because visual memory and imagination seem to vary
in degree and extent from those for whom recollection is
essentially a visualised panorama to those for whom it is
quite devoid of visual images. "Visual image," or " mental
picture," need only be used descriptively in the present con-
nexion to describe an experience which is familiar to most,
though not to all. Homer's reminiscent travelled man,
Alexander believes, interviewed the actual scenes which he

1 IL 15, 82. (Trans. Lang, Leaf and Myers.)

2 The Analysis of Mind, p. 80. 3 Loc cit., p. 153.

21

322 JOSHUA c. GREGORY:

had formerly interviewed in perception, though he inter-
viewed them under the circumstances known as remember-
ing : images are not pictures in the mind as we naturally, and
no doubt in ordinary life very conveniently, think, but things
themselves interviewed under the particular circumstances
known as memory, expectation or imagination.1 Occasional
individuals are never tempted by their experiences to speak
of " visual images " because they never experience any, but
most people, probably in this respect resembling Homer more
than Watson, when they think, for example, of their summer
bathing, can see, in their mind's eye, the tent from which
they bathed. This reminiscent visualisation of the past,
however achieved and whatever be its real nature, can be
described as mental visual imagery without prejudice to the
ultimate status ascribed by Alexander to the image and, in
the present connexion, considered as mental imagery which
mimics the visual aspects of seen things, as a reflexion in
the water mimics a tree by the brink of a pool.
. To those who experience them visual images are as familiar
in imagination without any tinge of reminiscence as they
are in recollection. Titchener mingles ''visual hints" into
his thinking : when he thinks of " modesty " he sees a grace-
ful, bending female figure and when he thinks of " the pro-
gress of science " he sees the inflowing tide.2 This is
intelligible to people who mingle visual images much less
freely into their thinking than he, and they, in company with
others who visualise more freely even than Titchener, under-
stand Socrates' remark to Simmias that lovers, when they
recognise a lyre, " form in the mind's eye an image of the
youth to whom the lyre belongs,"3 and Hamlet's reply "In
my mind's eye, Horatio ".4 There are experiences in which
the mind seems to have an eye and things happen as if
visual images were in this eye, as the reflected images of
physical things are in the physical eye. Behaviouristic dis-
claimers and visualistic deprivations cannot negate the
common experience in which things happen as if mental
images mimic the visual aspects of seen things when these
things are out of perceptive range. Nor can they success-
fully deny that the dreamer thinks absent things are present
as if there were visual images in his mind which he mistakes
for outward objects — as he might mistake a mirage in the
desert for a real oasis. Such visual images, descriptively

1 Space, Time and Deity, i., 25 ; ii., 218.

^Lectures on the Experimental Psychology of the Thought Processes,
ch. i.

3 Phaedo (Jowefct's Trans.). 4 Hamlet, L, ii., 186.

VISUAL IMAGES, WOEDS AND DEEAMS. 323

described as such to avoid conflict with realistic inter-
pretations of their real status, seem to have an interesting
connexion with dreaming which the present article proposes
to discuss.

Visual images can inflict damage on the mind and its
thinking. Association can play scurvy tricks even on grave
philosophers : " The celebrated Descartes was very much in
love with a lady who squinted ; he had so associated that
passion with obliquity of vision, that he declared to the latest
hour of his life he could never see a lady with a cast in her
eyes, without experiencing the most lively emotions".1
Descartes suffered periodically from an insistent emotion ;
Easselas, during his broodings, suffered from insistent images.
" One day, as he was sitting on a bank, he feigned to himself
an orphan virgin robbed of her little portion by a treacherous
lover, and crying after him for restitution. So strongly was
the image impressed upon his mind that he started up in the
maid's defence and ran forward to seize the plunderer with
all the eagerness of a real pursuit."^ Great writers freely
depict their characters under siege by insistent images.
When Crusoe had left his island and been ill, his "imagina-
tion worked up to such a height " that he SAW the " old
Spaniard, Friday's father, and the reprobate sailors," " looked
at them steadily ... as at persons just before " him and
often frightened himself with " the images " of his fancy.
Don Quixote's mind became " a world of disorderly notions"
and a chaos of turbulent images made him insane. Noth-
ing is proved by making events happen in a story ; but these
fictions are felt to be essentially unfictitious because imagina-
tion can, and does, do violence to the mind.

Darwin cites the hallucination of a gentleman who, after
looking attentively at a small statue of the Virgin, raised his
head and saw the same appearance at the end of the room.3
This milder type of siege does not menace sanity as the
fiercer sieges, like those of Crusoe and Don Quixote, menace
it, but the insistent image always tends to damage thought
by detaining attention upon itself. Titchener wrote of the
"visual hints" which mingle in his thinking, and images
more properly subserve thought by unobtrusiveness than by
insistence. " Any such narrative will present to me some
image," writes Max Beerbohm, " and stir me to not altogether
fatuous thought."4 He perceives the essential function of

1 Sydney Smith, Elementary Sketches of Moral Philosophy, p. 297.

2 Rasselas, ch. iv. :! Taine, de L' Intelligence, ii., ch. i.
4 " And Even Now : Servants."

324 JOSHUA c. GEEGOEY:

the visual image in thinking. Turbulent, crowding images
stir the mind too violently and shake it rather than guide it.
Images which are simply too insistent do not stir it enough
—do not pass on the mind freely enough because they invite
its attention to cling to themselves.

Great visualising power can confer benefit. Calculating
prodigies have said that they saw their figures clearly before
them as though they were written on a slate.1 In calculating
or blindfold chess-playing it is an obvious advantage to have
a mental slate or chess-board. The intensification of his
images secured for him by his emotion must assist the painter
to represent those pictorial aspects of things which arouse
that emotion within him.2 Hogarth aimed at the nurture
of visualisation: "I had one material advantage over my
competitors, viz., the early habit I thus acquired of retain-
ing in my mind's eye, without coldly copying it on the spot,
whatever I intended to imitate".3 Sir Joshua Keynolds
pointed the painter to the value of the mental image : " When-
ever a story is related, every man forms a picture in his mind
of the action and expression of the persons employed. The
power of representing this mental picture on canvas is what
we call invention in a painter." 4 A descent from art to stage
clairvoyancy or telepathy lights upon another helpfulness in
vivid visualising power. Eobert Houdin chose an object at
random from one of the audience, and his blindfolded son, at
a conventional sign from his father, simulated second sight
and described the object. The Houdins had, apparently, in
their conventional signs a code of cues ; but their performance
depended essentially on young Houdin's training in visualisa-
tion. His father taught him to take " mental photographs"
of the people in the audience and of the objects on their
persons. Mental photographs plus judicious cueing thus
provided an ingenious simulation of telepathy.5 Whenever,
to sum up shortly, it is an advantage to see objects without
looking at them it is an advantage to have vigorous and
abundant visual images.

But the " stir " referred to by Max Beerbohm contemplates
an activity of thought distinct from mere picturing of objects.
Titchener's imagery is relatively scattered and is largely a
disintegrated remnant of complete mental pictures. This
scattering and disintegration is still more marked in many
minds, and visualisation is obviously reduced to a provision of

1 Taine, de L' Intelligence, ii., ch. i.

2 Holmes, Notes on the Science of Picture-Making, pp. 15-16.

3 Austin Dobson, William Hogarth, p. 15. 4 Fourth Discourse-
8 Bergson, Mind-Energy (Can's Trans.), pp. 156-157.

VISUAL IMAGES, WOEDS AND DBEAMS. 325

cues for thinking. The visual image proper can be completely
replaced by the mental picture of a word which is a mere
symbol of the object with no resemblance to it. Words are
heard as well as seen and also experienced as articulatory
movements but visual aspects alone are under discussion
here. Since seen or visualised words can serve thought and
"stir" it, efficiently replacing sight or mental mimicry of
sight, visual images have obviously the important function
of inciting or promoting thought. If visualisation is too
vigorous, if mental images insistently claim attention, thought
suffers a paralysis which may be compared to the too hard
stare at an object which permits no real play to thought.

The human mind has shown a marked tendency to abandon
the advantage of seeing things without looking at the,m, con-
ferred by the power of vigorous visualisation, for the advan-
tage of thinking about them conferred by feebler mental
images which direct the mind to thought rather than to
themselves. When Eoger Fry says of the Bushmen that
they seem to have retained the palaeolithic " unique power of
visual transcription" and of the lowest savages that they
show " this peculiar power of visualisation " he expresses a
very common belief in the superiority of uncivilised over
civilised men in visualising power.1 W. H. Hudson speaks
of a revelation " in swift flickering glimpses " of " a vanished
experience or state of the primitive mind — a mind undimmed
by speculation, in which the extraneous world is vividly re-
flected ".2 Fry deduces from relics of primitive art, and
Hudson, since he compares the animal mind to the visualistic
mind of primitive man, is evidently speculative ; but direct
observation seems to support this combination of deduction
and speculation. Rivers says of an old woman giving evidence
at a court on Murray Island that "she looked first in one
direction and then in another with a keenness and directness
which showed beyond doubt that every detail of the occur-
rences she was describing was being enacted before her
eyes ". The demeanour of uncivilised men when describing
events they have seen, he adds, suggests that they read off
memory pictures and their "exclusive interest in the con-
crete," their developed powers of observation, and their " full-
ness of memory of the more concrete events of their lives "
intimate that " imagery is especially vivid and necessary
among primitive peoples. . . ."3 Carveth Bead echoes a
general anthropological estimate when he writes : " The

1 Vision and Design : The Art of the Bushmen.

2 The Book of a Naturalist, p. 19.

3 Dreams and Primitive Culture, p. 11.

326 JOSHUA c. GEEGOEY:

process of imagination itself, the memory and the picture-
thinking of savages, seems to be more vivid, sensuous, stable,
more like perception than our own normally is".1

The depletion of visual imagery which accompanies the
evolution of the civilised mind seems also to occur in the
development of the individual. Young children of five or
six, according to Kimmins, have a marked VISUAL appreciation
of the stories which are read to them. This visual apprecia-
tion prevents them from relishing many well-known comic
stories and at seven years there is a transition from visual
appreciation to an elementary play upon words.2 This con-
clusion has a weight of statistical enquiry behind it though
it may seem to some to be a somewhat speculative interpreta-
tion. A " correspondent " considers it difficult to discover
the nature of the images in a child's mind but thinks that
children use more mental pictures for thinking than adults.3
This opinion, doubtless based on many observations of many
children, is supported by the personal experience of Dr.
Rivers. His mental imagery was more definite in youth,
and his topographical memory of the houses he lived in is
most definite for the house he left at five years old.4 The
obvious is often untrue and may deceive the observer about
his own mind. Familiarity and power to image are closely
connected : the most familiar scenes are, normally, most
readily depicted in the mind. Memories of childhood which
occur often and continuously in reminiscence can be seen
vividly because they are familiar and we may mistake our
present power of visualising childhood for childhood's power
to visualise. But when Rivers discovers an almost complete
absence of definite visual imagery in his present waking life
and is aware of more definite mental imagery when he
recollects his youth it becomes probable that his mental
picturing has diminished with age.

Eivers' experience adds another instance to Galton's well-
known conclusion that visual images desert the scientific
mind. The feeble visualisation attributed by Galton to men
of science after statistical enquiry, which is frequently con-
firmed by direct testimony, as by Rivers, or by indirect
testimony, as by Watson's proposal to " throw out imagery
altogether," confirms the conclusion drawn from the devisual-
ising tendency in the evolution of civilised thought and in
the development of individual minds that the human mind

1 The Origin of Man and of his Superstitions, p. 88.

2 Child Study Soc., 13th October, 1921 : The Springs of Laughter .

3 Times' Educ. Supp., 15th Jan., 1920: What is Imagination?

4 Instinct and the Unconscious, pp. 11-12.

VISUAL IMAGES, WORDS AND DREAMS. 327

tends to dispense with visual images. Titcheners mingle
"visual hints" into their thinking and Kekules, pondering
atomic theories on London buses, see atoms dancing in mid-
air1 to destroy the perfection of Galton's generalisations.
But Bertrand Eussell rightly sees " no reason to doubt his
conclusion that the habit of abstract pursuits makes learned
men much inferior to the average in power of visualising.
. . ." 2 Thinking may become less occupied with the visual
image because it becomes more preoccupied with words, as
seems probable and as Bertrand Kussell suggests,3 or it may
shun them because, as Lord Haldane thinks, " the metaphors
that arise out of the images we call up, even in the strictest
thought, are a special source of danger in scientific and
philosophic investigation ".4 Images may be reserved for
art because they are there essential, and dismissed from
scientific description because there " the power of imagina-
tion has to be kept in restraint ".5 Depressed visualisation
may be good or bad, desirable or deplorable, submitted to or
struggled against ; it has happened in mental evolution and
it happens in us. Since it is a fact of experience its
mechanism can be studied and that study is a duty for
psychology.

Some experiences simultaneously remind us of the depres-
sion of visual images and hint at the method of depression.
The " correspondent " who discussed children's images had
a friend who claimed a recovery of visualisation by reading
slowly, with frequent pauses to give the mental pictures time
to emerge. The writer's experience confirms this possibility.
When he thinks of a word, the word " horse " for example,
or hears it, a visual image of the word itself and of the word
only rises in his mind. It usually flits through consciousness,,
as part of a sentence, bringing significance with it, as a waiter
brings a plate and leaves. If he detains the word under
attention, pausing to observe it, images of horses and of fields;
or carts or stables or of other items connected with horses,
appear in consciousness. These images are usually excluded
in the customary conscious flit of thinking but are available.
Restriction of imagery thus appears as a customary waiving
of a right, or power, which can still be exercised on occasion.

The visual image probably developed through different
stages of completeness 6 before man received it in his inherit-
ance from the animal. Visualisation is not usually described

1 Knowlson, Originality, Sect. 2, ch. ii.

2 The Analysis of Mind, p. 154.

3 Ibid. 4 The Reign of Relativity, p. 220. Ibid.
6 Vide Washburn, The Animal Mind.

328 JOSHUA c. GREGORY:

as an instinct but, like the instincts, it is a strongly marked
pervasive tendency which has been received from the animals
and incorporated into the general habit of the organism.
Like the instincts also it has been placed under control, and
like the instincts it has its moments of assertion and its
periods of calm. Images may invade the mind as the impulse
to flight may invade it when fear arises ; and they may, appar-
ently, be as completely, or nearly as completely, banished
from thought as flight or other impulses may be banished
from action. If images or mental pictures of words be dis-
tinguished from other visual images and not included, as
seems to be a very usual custom, in the term " visual image,"
the tendency to visualise is often very completely inhibited.
Visualisation can be regarded as a tendency to mental re-
sponse by visual images which undergoes, progressively with
the evolution of civilisation and in different degrees among
the minds of one generation, a process of inhibition. The
mind has a tendency to have visual images when it thinks,
and an inhibiting mechanism to free thought from them.
The inhibiting mechanism might operate in one of two ways.
The imaging power or tendency might be assimilated into
the thinking process : the word " fairy," for example, instead
of stirring pictures of these dainty beings in consciousness
might stir in it a general sense of significance — the mind
realising the MEANING of the word without illustrating it by
visual images. Such assimilation might l>e compared with
nutrition by food : the imaging process might lose its identity
in the total process of thought as the food loses its identity
in the metabolic process.

Such inhibition, if the term " inhibition " is admitted to
apply to such assimilation, is a virtual destruction of the
visualising tendency since this is transformed into something
else. A simple loss of visualising power, which would make
" inhibition " unnecessary, would have exactly the same
apparent effect of clearing images out of consciousness. It
is, however, conceivable that "inhibition" might fail at
times to assimilate the visualising tendency, so that images
get into consciousness. The virtual destruction of the visual-
ising process by inhibition is thus distinct from its actual
destruction, since the original tendency to imagery may, from
time to time, assert itself. If some people have practically
no visual images1 their visualising tendencies may either be
destroyed or be a lingering remnant which has escaped de-
struction. The showering of images upon the mind by

1 James, Principles of Psychology : Imagination.

VISUAL IMAGES, WORDS AND DREAMS 329

shock favours inhibition of visualisation more than its de-
struction. De Quincey was told by a near relative who fell
into a river and was just saved that " she saw in a moment
her whole life, clothed in its forgotten incidents, arrayed be-
fore her as in a mirror".1 Some Gold Coast natives who
had been almost drowned told Cardinall that they had seen
the dwelling-places of water-spirits.2 They had doubtless
had visions appropriate to their minds, as De Quincey's
relative had visions appropriate to her mind, which had been
showered upon them by shock. If, as seems probable, an
apparently completely devisualised mind would visualise
under shock, devisualisation probably occurs through inhibi-
tion, more or less stringently enforced.

Since the inhibition seems often and in many respects to
be but lightly enforced (images appearing, for example, when
the reader pauses over his words) visualisation may be
normally inhibited merely by keeping images out of conscious-
ness. This is the second possible operation of the inhibiting
mechanism and, in a general way, it corresponds to the
" suppression " of instincts suggested by Eivers, as assimil-
atory inhibition corresponds to his notion of " fusion ".3
Devisualisation may proceed inhibitorily by a tendency to
make visual images inaccessible to consciousness. The same
process may also be expressed as an inhibition of the mental
tendency to react in thinking by producing images. To
secure clearness of exposition the images may be conceived
to sojourn in the unconscious ready to enter consciousness
and devisualisation to be an inhibition of their entry. There
are, on this conception, images in the unconscious mind,
such as mental pictures of horses and scenes connected with
them, ready to enter consciousness when, for instance, the
word "horse" is seen or heard, and a process of inhibition
to prevent their access. This inhibition has increased in
stringency during the evolution of the human mind, it be-
comes more stringent during individual development, usually
very much more stringent if the individual inclines to scientific
or abstract pursuits, and varies in stringency among the
members of any group — artists, for example, inclining to
release their images as philosophers incline to imprison
them.

Bivers remarks that painful experience is specially liable
to " suppression ".4 By such " suppression " any experience

1 Confessions of an English Opium-Eater, Pfc. 3.

2 The Natives of the Northern Territory of the Gold Coast, p. 34

3 Instinct and the Unconscious, p. 33.

4 Loc. cit., p. 35.

330 JOSHUA C. GKEGORY:

is rendered inaccessible to consciousness, but special con-
ditions, such as dream or hypnotism, may restore it from
the unconscious where it has remained active. An officer
who often experienced fear when he was enclosed had this-
claustrophobia greatly intensified at the fighting front. A
painful experience in an enclosed space had been driven
down into his unconscious to trouble his conscious life when
his outward surroundings resembled those of the suppressed
experience. In a semi-waking state following a dream he
recalled the incident which had remained in suppression to-
disturb his life. At the age of four he had been in the blind
end of a passage and a dog had followed him in from the •
open end. His fear of the animal and his inability to escape
had sunk into his mind beyond the range of recollection and
the suppressed experience remained as a perpetual suggestion
of menace whenever he entered an enclosed space.1 De-
visualisation probably is a quieter form of suppression or
inhibition, which restricts the access of images to conscious-
ness. The need for this restriction appears in some instances
where vigorous visualisation would seem to be an advantage.
Taine discovered purely visual memories in chess-players ;
Binet found that his blindfolded chess-players were disturbed
by mental visions of their pieces. Binet's subjects recon-
structed the game at every move and each one proceeded
from an "idea of the whole" which enabled him, if he so
desired, "to visualise the elements".2 If visualisation can
disturb a blindfolded chess-player who would apparently
benefit by a special power to see without looking, its historical
and individual inhibition, to favour conception by restricting
mental seeing, appears clearly as an important factor in
mental evolution. Thought requires its visual images under
discipline — to be prevented from occupying consciousness
too forcibly or freely and to be available when wanted.
Perfect imposition of perfectly regulated inhibition may be
seldom or never secured. Any particular mind may inhibit
too severely or too leniently. The varying visualising power,
so obvious in the different mental methods of individuals,
represents different operations of the inhibitory tendency
which provides a necessary mental discipline for images.
These different operations depend, doubtless, on the original
mental equipment of the individual and also on his surround-
ings and life. They are usually spontaneous and unwitting,
though educationalists contemplate the rational superintend-

1 Instinct and the Unconscious, pp. 10 ff.

2Bergson, Mind-Energy (Carr s Trans.), pp. 161-162.

VISUAL IMAGES, WOBDS AND DREAMS. 331

ence of the visualising faculty. There are, doubtless, all
degrees of visualistic inhibition — it is almost absent in a.
mind like Blake's and almost complete in a mind like
Watson's. It passes also, doubtless, in different degrees in
different minds, into what Eivers calls " fusion ".l The
significance of any idea, such as the idea of a horse, may
centre on the word " horse " and be supported by visual
images which lurk underneath it without entering conscious-
ness. These lurking images may, escaping inhibition or
relieved from it, become conscious and visualistically enforce
the meaning or significance of the idea which centred on the
word. These entrant images, or any one of them, may substi-
tute an imaged focus for the original verbal focus. This is
inhibition in its suppressive and releasing aspects. Visual
experiences of matters connected with horses may cease to
be recoverable as images and still contribute to significance
by incorporation in the mental process stirred by the word.
This is Rivers' "fusion". There may be, also, a complete
deletion of the effects of some experiences upon the mind,
corresponding to the complete obliviscence suffered by memory.
The mind may retain no traces of some experiences, though it
may be that no experience does not leave some permanent
result. There may be a slight deflexion, though it may be
virtually irrelevant, to mark the former touch of any experi-
ence, however fleeting and imperceptible it may appear to*
be.

It has been implied that words are the inhibiting agents in
devisualisation and they seem to have this role. Since they
are themselves visual images which appear in thinking (only
the visual aspect of imaging is under discussion here) they
intimate a retention of visualisation which has dispensed
with visual mimicry. It is usual to distinguish between
visual images and words, even when the latter are visualised,,
because words are visual signs or hints that have no re-
semblance to objects and contain no element of imitation.
These visual signs inhibit mimicing visualisation and " Almost
all highly intellectual activity is a matter of words, to the
nearly total exclusion of anything else ". This substitution
of the word for the representative visual image occurs, adds
Bertrand Russell, because words are more easily produced,
because images may contain irrelevant detail, and because
abstract matters are not easily rendered by imagery. De-
struction of imagery would follow these advantages by throw-
ing the mind entirely on the resource of words. It is, however

1 Instinct and the Unconscious, p. 32.

332 JOSHUA c. GKEGOBY:

a necessary safeguard in thinking, Russell adds, " to be able,
once in a way, to discard words for a moment and contem-
plate facts more directly through images ".l This process of
contemplating facts more directly through images and, it may
be added, of using them as vehicles of artistic insight, would,
if lost, deplete the mind and might, in the final result, even
destroy its capacity for abstract thought. A regulated in-
hibition of visual images, which prevents their intrusion and
allows them access when desirable, provides thought with a
mental method. This inhibition is normal to the human
mind, though the perfection of its regulation varies in degree
and may never reach the ideal.

Verbal regulatory inhibition of visual imagery is a com-
promise between thinking in words and thinking in pictures.
It is, normally, a fairly effective co-operative combination,
though either partner, verbalising or picturing, may secure
mastership in the co-partnery. The verbal inhibition of
visual imagery is very discernible in the literalisation or
stripping of metaphorical words. Words which begin their
public career as metaphors lose their metaphorical signifi-
cance and signify their meaning with literal directness.
When we say of any person that he is "in a hole " or in
" a tight place " we think of him as " in difficulties " without
having mental pictures of the struggles in an actual hole or
of the squeezings between narrow walls which originally
conferred a metaphorical status upon the two phrases. The
metaphorical images are often there, pinned under the phrase,
•so to speak, and ready for conscious adoption. Now the
dream discards the inhibiting words and summons the
images. Dreams are eminently visualising achievements and
Freud notes that they transform verbal connexions into con-
nexions between images. Picture writing has serious diffi-
culties with the logical relations expressed by "if" or other
similar words and the picture writing of the dream appears
more chaotic than waking thought because it is deprived of
verbal aids to conceiving these connexions. Causation may
occur in the dream as SUCCESSION : this, it may be noted,
gains dramatically but loses conceptually — the word " cause "
MEANS more than a mere succession, however graphic it may
be. Freud adds that words play a part in the formation of
dreams and he speaks of them as junction points for many
conceptions and as having a predestined ambiguity.2 The
restoration of their original picturesque meaning to words

1 The Analysis of Mind, p. 212.

2 The Interpretation of Dreams (Brill's Trans.), ch. vi.

VISUAL IMAGES, WOEDS AND DREAMS. 333

which are now abstract is specially significant in relation to-
verbal inhibition of images. Freud chooses as instances of
demetaphorised phrases " in a hole" and "in a tight place,"
and Nicoll l records a dream that releases the images from
their inhibitory under- pinning by them. A young man was
unwilling to accept an offered post and faced with the al-
ternatives of unacceptable work or unemployment. In his
waking thought he was in " a tight place ". He dreamed he
was in a cave which connected with the sea by a long narrow
passage. He struggled through it and found himself battling
in the surf. The dream ended on further incidents but the
original imprisonment and struggle through the sea-washed
passage corresponds to the release from inhibition by the
verbal phrase of images which have an obvious connexion
with the original metaphor in the words "in a tight place ".
Nicoll, in his interpretation of the dream, hankers after birth
symbolism and compares the cave, with its passage, to the
womb. Imagery released from verbal inhibition and drawn
directly from familiar experience is a simpler and more
natural explanation.

The dream appears to reveal the inhibitory sojourn of
visual images beneath the inhibiting verbal images. Ex-
pressed in terms of mental process or reaction, the tendency
to visualise words during thinking shuts down the tendency
to visualise images. When thinking proceeds without words
the shut-down tendency becomes, assertive. This assertive-
ness runs riot in the dream because verbal thought has
almost disappeared. The disappearance of visual word-
images is a striking feature of the world of dreams. Intense
visualisation sometimes contains visualised words : " I write
when commanded by the spirits," wrote Blake, "and the
moment I have written, I see the words fly about in all
directions".2 Seers, however, more often hear words than
see them and dreamers, who are embryo Blakes, seldom see
words in their dreams. Dreamers have seen some casual
and curious combinations of letters but, though printed or
written words pervade modern civilisation and are constantly
before men's eyes, the dream-world is largely a wordless
world and visual images are there supreme.

Many dreams appear to transcribe thoughts directly into
pictures by discarding the verbal expression and releasing the
inhibited images. A gentleman arranged a hen-run, during
the tight time of the war, by surrounding his garden with

1 Dream Psychology, ch. v.

2 Poems of William Blake, Edit. Yeats : Introd.

334 j. c. GREGORY: VISUAL IMAGES, WORDS AND DREAMS.

fish-netting. He remarked to his mother: "I hope no cat
will break through the nets ". He happened to read, during
^the next afternoon, of the were-wolf legend and was reminded,
by a natural association, of the cognate superstition that
witches can transform themselves into cats. That night he
dreamed of his garden : he stood where a torn piece of netting
waved in the wind. Then he was conscious of commotion,
of a creature passing behind him, of a chase, of a capture and
of holding a woman in his arms. On looking into her face
he saw it wrinkled, withered and lined, as though she had
lived for aeons. He had thought with the images released
from under his former words. The witch of his dream,
emphatically imaged by her wrinkled face, was the "cat"
of his thought — an obvious metamorphosis through associa-
tion.

If these images had entered his mind as he spoke to his
mother, they would have been under some measure of
inhibitory restraint and he would not have visualised a fear
into an actual occurrence. This displacement of meaning
occurred in the dream, after the usual manner of dreaming.
Images under the inhibitory discipline of words signified a
fear, the same images freed from restraint signified an actual,
and illusory, event. Dream-metamorphoses of thoughts into
illusory events intimate both the verbal inhibition of images
and some advantages of such inhibiting. Thought tends to
resolve into a survey of images if visualisation is unrestrained.
This survey runs in the dream to its completion in hallucina-
tion. Schleiermacher regarded dreaming as a replacement
of thoughts by hallucinations : l this seems to be true and to
be true because the mind turns from words to images.
Thinking is achieved through the subjection of images,
through words which inhibit them and control their appear-
ances in consciousness. This disciplined visualisation is
appreciated through its reversions to indiscipline. When
minds are assaulted by their images they reel, as Blake's
mind often reeled. When they are periodically assaulted in
dreams they plunge into illusion. These are " flagrant in-
stances " of the intractableness of the visual image. Words
subdue this intractableness and conform it to the logic of
thought. Extreme devisualisation may err by excess of
discipline as extreme visualisation may err by deficit. Those
little dramas that we call dreams are periodical reminders of
the regulatory inhibition exercised over visual images by
words and of its necessity for thought.

1 Freud, The Interpretation of Dreams (Brill's Trans. ), ch. i.

V.— DISCUSSIONS.
A WORD ABOUT "COHERENCE".

VERY probably students of philosophy are tired of discussions about
4t Coherence ". The vitality of the opposition to it certainly makes
one think. It seems as if the simple doctrine " Truth is when the
fact exists as the proposition says " was so overwhelmingly plain and
convincing that very great authorities have finally settled down to
acquiescence in it. It is, of course, plausible ; especially if you
take the distinction that the above is the description of truth,
though the test, or criterion, or procedure towards the attainment,
of truth may be something further.

An elementary mode of statement — nothing profound or ambitious
— has occurred to me, which I should like to be allowed to suggest.
It is merely this ; that the advocates of " correspondence " are
speaking of truth in the everyday sense, while we who demand
" coherence " do not think you ought to speak seriously or theoretic-
ally of truth unless you have proof.

" I have truth when I make a proposition to which the facts
correspond " or " which corresponds to the facts ". Of course, this
is universally accepted in daily intercourse. If I am told there is
a train at nine A.M., and there really is one, then I am told the
truth. The truth is the meaning of certain words. The fact is a
touchstone, a test, outside and of a different kind.

So far so good. But we should say, I suppose, that " the fact "
here is much too simply taken for anything serious to hang on it.
It is all right as long as there is no reason for doubt ; but the
moment there is room for doubt, and you ask how you are to know
whether the proposition is true or not, you must take the step of
asking for proof.

Now here you meet with something remarkable. Of what is the
proof to l>e ? Prima facie, of the proposition ; you allege the existing
fact, and then, on the everyday assumption, the truth of the pro-
position is proved.

But this omits a very familiar procedure. It is surely natural
and not uncommon to ask for proof of the fact. If the fact, which
we used as a test, is not proved, then the test fails and the truth of
the proposition is not established. Now what sort of thing is the
proof of a fact ? Two points are clear, surely ; it is a procedure by
coherence ; and it is the same procedure as the proof of the truth of
the proposition which affirms it.

336 BEBNAED BOSANQUET : A WORD ABOUT " COHEKENCE ".

The first point needs no argument. The procedure of science or
of a law court settles the question at once. The test is, " to save
the appearances " — to get the result which gives the highest degree
of agreement in all the relevant experiences.

And the second point shows that the establishment of the fact
and the establishment of the truth which it is supposed to test are
one and the same thing. " Caesar was murdered." This is true,
if his murder really took place. Yes, but did his murder really take
place ? The answer to this question rests of course on an enormous
construction of critical theory and harmonised facts — the proof.
If the fact is not proved, the truth of the proposition tested by it is
not established, and you cannot say the proposition is true.

You may take it ideally — hypothetically ; and I think this is
sometimes done. You may say " If the fact is real, the proposition
is true " ; or " that is what I mean by the proposition being true,
viz., that the fact is real ". Speaking from memory, I think this is
Dr. McTaggart's line.

The only objection that I see to this, is that it puts you in the
position of habitually speaking about propositions as true when you
do not in the least know whether they are true or not. And this
seems to me a very dangerous habit, though necessary up to a
certain point.

I suppose it is the legitimacy of this mode of speech that Croce
defends when he says that we are entitled to affirm about great
historical events that " humanity remembers them," apart, as I
understand him, from any critical proof. (Suppose you say that
" Humanity remembers " the Eesurrection. I should admit there
is a sense in which you may say this ; but not a strict sense.) All
I assert is, that we are in the wrong, if in saying that truth depends
on fact, we forget that fact depends on proof, and proof, we may
add, constantly and in a large measure depends on truth. The
apparent difference of kind disappears on analysis. I do not want
to disregard the convenience of the innumerable degrees of certainty
which we practically accept in daily life. Only a philosopher of
Laputa would do so. But I do say that for logical theory and in
principle you only have truth where your fact is proved ; that is,
where your proposition is exhibited as immanent in a system where
all relevant experience is included.

This is as far, I think, as the current " correspondence " theory
takes you. A further point is raised if you ask whether logical
laws have to be assumed apart from coherence ; but that I spoke
of in the April MIND, and I do not think the current defence of
" correspondence " raises it.

BEBNAED BOSANQUET.

RELATIVITY, SCIENTIFIC AND PHILOSOPHICAL.

I SHOULD like to disclaim altogether the " Gallio attitude" which
Dr. Carr imputes to critics of his philosophical interpretation of
the Theory of Kelativity.1 Far from expressing "indifference to
the new discovery" I fully admitted both its outstanding scientific
value and its philosophic importance.2 But I still think Dr.
Carr misreads its significance as regards the philosophical prin-
ciple of relativity.

His argument falls into two distinct stages. The first is based
on admitted results of the Theory ; but the second interprets these
results in a manner which the Theory itself in no degree justifies,
although his conclusions may, of course, on other grounds, be
true ; but with any other grounds than the Theory itself we are
not at present concerned. I believe I anticipated this second
stage in saying that philosophic relativity is concerned " with
the relation between mind and its content, or between mind
and reality, and applies universally " ; 3 and I shall try to
show very briefly the untenability of his position in more
detail. We begin then with the truth that " there is no absolute
event in an independent system"4 (p. 176). This is the essence
of the Theory, and the first stage of Dr. Carr's argument. The
next question is as to the nature of this independence and system ;
and it is here that we find what I take to be an altogether illegiti-
mate expansion of the Theory's implications. With the character
of the independence which the Theory repudiates I have already
dealt. " The independence that is denied subsists not between the
mind and observations, but between our scales and units and the
observed phenomena " (p. 46). Thus the independent system for
Einstein is physical ; or if we employ a category purely philo-
sophic, it is ontological. But at this point Dr. Carr crosses the
Eubicon, and the second part of his argument begins. For he
straightway transforms this ontological into an epistemological
category : — " the absolute is not in the object of knowledge taken in
abstraction, not in the external world, it is in the observer or subject
of knowledge and a function of his activity." 5 When we take the

1 MIND, April, 1922, p. 169. For "Theory" c/., ante, p. 42, note 3.

2 Ante, p. 52 ; "epoch-making," p. 47. 3P. 44.

4 " . . . and no sameness of events occurring to different observers."
This seems to ignore the identity of observations within any one reference
system. Cf.t ante, p. 42.
' 5 P. 174. Italics mine.

338 J. E. TUENEE:

two statements literally, the fallacy of this transition becomes
obvious. The relativist's system of reference (which is undoubtedly
part of the external world) is transformed into the " object of
knowledge" and transferred from the external world to the ob-
server. Or take an alternative statement. " The phenomena of
nature must be relative to a standard" — this standard being for
Einstein once more the observer's system of reference. But again
the same transformation occurs, and Dr. Carr converts this into
"a standard ftirnished by the observer".1 The two positions are,
obviously, far from being identical. We may hold the first without
accepting the second ; and if we do advance to the second it must
be on grounds altogether independent of the Theory. The question
becomes — Is the relativist's reference system a standard furnished
by the observer ? I venture to think that this epistemological pro-
blem is as foreign to many physicists as relativity mathematics is
to the majority of philosophers. It is indeed a problem which can
never be solved on any purely scientific basis such as underlies the
Theory. The only science which can be appealed to is the science
of knowledge. The issue, that is, is epistemological ; it cannot
therefore be affected by the scientific Theory in any way.2 It is
well known again that Dr. Whitehead emphasises the total ex-
clusion of mind from the realm of Nature for all purposes of
science. Thus his position is diametrically opposed to Dr. Carr's ;
but he, at least, cannot be charged with " caring for none of these
things ".

Dr. Carr, in short, has unwarrantably altered the venue of the
whole enquiry. The introduction of the category of knowledge is
justified by no earlier consideration whatever ; it is gratuitous and
irrelevant to the Theory as such. We must not be misled by the
fact that the objects — the reference system — with which the Theory
is concerned are " objects of knowledge ". That is a truism ; for if
they were not there could be no Theory. But this is far from
proving the truth of philosophical relativity: Of course if Dr.
Carr's philosophic position had already been indubitably established
then the Theory would have provided for it invaluable confirmation.
But to confirm an established principle is one thing ; indirectly to
prove by implication a principle which itself is in question is
quite another ; and it is precisely this conversion of the ontological
system into an epistemological basis which is disputed. The
absolute, we have seen, is " in the observer ". But further, it is
" the ' I think ' which in affirming its activity posits existence.
The ' I think ' does not presuppose existence ; it is not generated
but generator " (p. 174). This standpoint is analogous to, if not

1 P. 175. My italics. C/., "The ground of measure-relations must be
physical in nature ". Schlick, Space and Time, p. 59.

2 There is t a minor but still important point. Dr. Carr argues that
"Our 'I think' is attached to a system of reference from (which) we
derive our axes " (p. 175). In the Theory, however, the axes themselves
constitute part of the system — they are not derived from it.

EELATIVITY, SCIENTIFIC AND PHILOSOPHICAL. 339

identical with, that of Italian neo-idealism, where we have " mind
as the transcendental activity productive of the objective world of
experience "-1 I have already accepted " mind as one, if not the
sole, clue to the nature of Eeality ".2 But I take this to mean no
more than that finite mind is (a} directly revelatory of reality, and
therefore (b) shares a common nature with reality ; there is between
them no absolute difference nor fundamental opposition. Their
common nature constitutes, of course, a problem. I take it to be
wholeness — totality — the Hegelian self-transcending ideality of the
finite. If this is what Dr. Carr means by philosophic relativity,
then our only difference is that he regards it as finally proved by
the Theory, whereas I fail to see any direct connexion between
them. Subject to later qualification I will admit, with Lord
Haldane, that knowledge is " foundational of reality ". But this
does not mean that " the ' I think ' is not generated but generator".
What are the implications of Dr. Carr's contention ? Sense-
experience alone becomes " the immediate object of consciousness,
and from it therefore the physical reality of science is constituted ".
Now what exactly is covered and implied by " sense-experience "
is still matter of dispute ; here it is sufficient to point out that Dr.
Carr equates all " sense-experience " — in principle — to pain — that
is to what all schools alike accept as a permanently localised and
subjective affection of the individual percipient. In this equivalence
there is of course an element of truth ; but it is not yet finally estab-
lished as an ultimate principle, and it is certainly not directly implied
by Einstein's Theory.3 Still further, " the principle yields in the
first place a mathematics (which) can offer material to physics.
Physics depends on mathematics, not vice versa, and mathematics
becomes an empirical instead of a transcendental science." 4 Much
depends here on the precise meaning of " transcendental " and
" empirical " ; but in any case the statement is correct only within
limitations. Relativity mathematics certainly applies to some
important branches of physics, but it only expands and corrects
earlier mathematics ; the general relation between the two sciences
still remains unaltered, and the pathway from " sense-experience "
to mathematics still traverses physics in the first place ; although
at later — but more abstract — stages it is almost impossible to dis-
tinguish between them. To maintain the contrary is to adopt
Prof. Eddington's fallacious argument based on the " embryo
mind " ; 5 nor can we disregard Dr. Campbell's contention that
" integration leads to physically significant results only because it

1 Gentile, Theory of Mind as Pure Act, p. 43. 2MiND, ante, p. 46.

3 If the Theory is accepted in the light of the unconscious subjectivism
which has so long dominated science then such a position is presupposed ;
but this again is not proof. Against this subjectivism there has for-
tunately set in a strong reaction, of which Dr. Whitehead's Concept of
Nature is perhaps the best known — but not the only — expression.

4 P. 173. My italics. Cf., Appendix (2).

5 MIND, April, 1921), p. 154. The Journal of Philosophy, vol. xvii.,
p. 610.

340 J. E. TUBNEE:

corresponds step by step to some physical process " ; and Lord
Haldane's opinion that " Einstein seems to think that we perceive
objects, not events. The continuum is got at indirectly by in-
ference, and is not the actual basis of nature as directly known." l
Physics, that is, is still prior to mathematics.

But the truth that knowledge is foundational of reality itself
demands substantial qualification. For finite knowledge declares
that to itself reality is foundational. Whether we can say — No
finite knowledge, no reality — seems to me questionable ; but
certainly we must say — No reality, no finite knowledge. For it
is with finite knowledge that we are here concerned, and to such
knowledge reality is foundational ; it is " generator," and knowledge
"generated". Hence their common nature ; hence it is too that
infinite knowledge is one with reality. But throughout Dr. Carr's
discussion there runs that unjustifiable identification of physical
phenomena with experience, which begs the whole question at
issue. We find e.g. (p. 171) that "the principle interprets the
behavioiir " of the filings ; it deals i.e., with " interpretation of the
phenomena " ; but on page 177 the position is that " the principle
asks us ... to interpret" experience; again the initial ontological
issues become illogically presented as epistemological ; " sense-
experience presents itself in the form of event" (p. 174). 2

One minor point seems to be important. " The principle
interprets the behaviour of . . . phenomena." But it seems to me
that the Theory offers itself primarily as a description, and not as
an interpretation in any philosophic sense of explanation.3 The
ideal of many relativists appears to be to dispense with explanation
altogether and to content themselves with descriptions — needless
to say of the greatest value. They regard it as their province to
describe phenomena in exact geometrical or mathematical terms,
but not to explain them ; just as a bank passbook describes transac-
tions which it does not explain ; 4 and both the clerk and the
relativist lighten their tasks appreciably by this procedure. But

1 Physics, The Elements, p. 523. The Reign of Relativity, p. 110 (con-
densed). Also Einstein and the Universe, p. 5 ; " mathematical symbolism
always embodies an abstraction ". "Starting from familiar conceptions
... we are finally left with Space and Time in the simple form (of)
Einstein's physics. . . . Reflections in the realm of metrical geometry
acquire a meaning only when its relationship to physics is borne in mind."
Schlick, op. cit., pp. 5, 59.

2 Cf., Dr. Bosanquet. " The moral of relativity is not the permeation
of the universe by mind or minds " ; (Meeting of Extremes, p. 16) ; and
Dr. Whitehead's realistic theory of events in his Concept of Nature.

3 Cf., p. 171. "According to the theory, this is the scientific
expl* nation."

4 Cf., MIND, ante, p. 47, note 1 ; also pp. 200, 204 (Dr. Dorothy Wrinch) :
"all use Space as a description. It is the properties and not the intrinsic
nature of space which is the subject of investigation." My statement is
intended as one of general principle, subject to exceptions on minor
aspects of detail ; just as mere dates in the passbook may explain a great
deal. Cj.j further Appendix (1).

EELATIVITY, SCIENTIFIC AND PHILOSOPHICAL. 341

philosophy must seek explanations ; further, description, as such,
can never take the place of explanation, though it may provide
material for its correction. The Principle of Equivalence e.g.,
merely states that gravitational phenomena may be equally well
described or expressed in terms of acceleration.1 But to remain
satisfied with the suggestion that accelerated motion is a neces-ary
consequence of the space-time continuum surely betrays a degenera-
tion of philosophic fibre.

There is another possible source of confusion. Dr. Carr refers
to "scientific" and "physical reality" (pp. 173, 174, 176). I pre-
sume no ultimate distinction is implied between these and some
other mode of reality — though there is of course a subordinate
distinction of aspect or standpoint. If on the other hand these
terms refer to scientific concepts, then these of course — like all
concepts — arise from a basis of sense-experience ; the " I think "
is their generator. But while we all employ the statements that
" time — matter — space — are concepts " these are, taken literally,
false. Space, etc., are for philosophy reals, not concepts ; although
they are reals of which we form concepts ; and concepts themselves
are also real.

Finally as to a few obscurities of expression. "Simultaneity
and direction have been falsified by experiment " (p. 176). The
Theory, however, so far as experiment is involved, depends on
coincidence, and therefore on simultaneity. " The absolute observa-
tion is, whether or not the coincidence exists, not when or where
or under what circumstances it exists."2 Again, is the reality of
the universe finite — " finite yet unbounded " (p. 177) — or its extent ? 3
and in what sense can the universe be finite because " every straight
line is a geodesic which at infinity must return on itself " ?

I conclude then that if any form of subjective idealism has been
already established, or is presupposed, then the Theory amply con-
firms that philosophy. On the other hand, the Theory itself
cannot substantiate it ; it is indeed equally consonant with either
objective idealism, realism, or even materialism ; it is, for philo-
sophy, a benevolent neutral.

APPENDIX.

Since the above was written, two lectures by Einstein have been
published.4 Although these deal with ether and geometry, and so
might easily lend themselves to a subjectivist interpretation, they
seem to me strongly to confirm the " neutrality " of the Theory

144 It is impossible to distinguish between a universal force and a
curvature of the manifold." Prof. Lmdemann in Schlick, op. cit., p. iv.

2 Prof. Eddington, Space Time and Gravitation, p. 87 ; c/., ibid.— "So
far as knowledge is knowledge of intersections of world lines, it is
absolute knowledge independent of the observer". (My italics.) Cf.,
Schlick, op. cit., pp. 50-53.

3 Cf., MIND, ante, p. 45, note 3. Schlick, ibid., p. 73.

4 Sidelights on Relativity.

342 J. E. TUKNEE : EELATIVITY.

if there is any definite tendency at all, it is realistic. Here I can
only, however, append a few relevant quotations.

(1) It is extremely interesting to notice that as the Theory
develops it turns more and more from description to explanation —
even to causal explanation. As regards matter and the continuum,
e.g., the latter now ceases to be in itself ultimate. Its " metrical
qualities . . . are partly conditioned by the matter outside of the
territory under consideration . . . ether determines the metrical
relations, the configurative possibilities of solid bodies as well as
the gravitational fields ". 1 Except that ether and matter have new
attributes, this is little removed from the older physics.

(2) As to the nature of mathematics, Einstein's position is quite
definite ; for him mathematics is " transcendental ". "As far as
the laws of mathematics refer to reality, they are not certain ; and
as far as they are certain, they do not refer to reality. The logical-
formal alone forms the subject-matter of mathematics, which is not
concerned with the intuitive or other content. This view purges
mathematics of all extraneous elements. That which gives " point,"
etc., substance is not relevant to mathematics. We distinguish
" practical geometry " from " purely axiomatic geometry ". All
linear measurement in physics is " practical geometry " ".2 We
have here obviously an almost absolute dualism which underlies
Einstein's entire treatment of this point. Scientifically it is of
course quite justifiable. But it is philosophically unsound, and
could be removed, I think, by a stricter logical analysis ; but with
this the scientist, as such, is not concerned.

(3) This is also true, it seems to me, of a still more important
consequence of the Theory — the finitude of the universe. This
finitude is spatial — " spatially unbounded and of finite magnitude ".3
But this " spatial " finitude is to some degree at least fallacious ;
it is spatial only within limitations and under definite conditions ;
it is perhaps best described as quasi-spatial. For the term " space "
has changed fundamentally in meaning — a change perfectly legiti-
mate once it is recognised and adhered to. " Space is endowed
with physical qualities ; in this sense there exists an ether. Space
without ether is unthinkable" (p. 23). All this restricts the pro-
blem to the ontological and physical realm. The physical universe
of matter — ether — energy — is finite. Hence the fallacy of expressing
this in spatial terms. For it is obvious from Einstein's treatment
that the finitude is, strictly, a numerical finitude, not necessarily a
purely spatial finitude in the older sense of extensional. The pro-
blem of extensional infinity still remains to be faced ; it may be
academic, but it is not illogical. Thus there is once more necessary
a precise definition of all our terms ; until this is achieved con-
fusion is inevitable. It is of course a logical problem ; but it must
be treated on an ontological basis.

1 Pp. 18, 20. On p. 20 we have "the causes which condition its state ".
(Italics throughout mine.)

2 Pp. 28-32. 3 P 21. Cf., also p. 41.

J. E. TUENBB.

VI— CEITICAL NOTICE.

A Faith that Enquires : The Gilford Lectures delivered in the
University of Glasgow in the years 1920 and 1921. By Sir
HENBY JONES. London : Macmillan & Co., 1922. Pp. x, 361.

THOSE who enjoyed the privilege of a personal acquaintance with
Sir Henry Jones have always been apt to think that his published
writings, vigorous and inspiring as they are, did not adequately
represent his power as a constructive thinker. His predecessor
in Glasgow, who was also his master, was generally regarded as
the greatest teacher of philosophy in his time in Great Britain ;
and he was also recognised as being among the foremost of philo-
sophical writers. Many of the pupils of Sir Henry Jones were
inclined to believe that he was not less great as a teacher than
Edward Caird himself ; but as a writer he could hardly be placed
on a similar level. The lectures that have now been published,
taken in conjunction with the important works on Browning and
on Lotze, may be held to place him as a philosophical writer on a
level at least approximately equal to that which belonged to him as.
a teacher. In both respects, no doubt, his dependence upon Caird
is very obvious, both in the general lines of his thought and in the
manner of his exposition. But there are characteristic differences.
Caird generally wrote as an expositor and as an extremely sym-
pathetic critic ; and, though he led up with elaborate care to
definite conclusions which he emphasised with strong conviction,
yet it was always his tendency to regard the results as being of
less importance than the process by which they were arrived at,
and as having hardly any value apart from that process. He used
to say that it was much more essential that philosophy should be-
thoroughly reasoned than that it should lead to results that are
either true or valuable. Jones would perhaps have agreed with
this ; but he had by nature more of the spirit of a prophet, and
this makes itself felt in his writings. He was always eager to
reach a definite conclusion and to persuade others to accept it.
The title of his Gifford Lectures has been well chosen to express
his attitude of mind. His philosophy was for him a faith — not in
the sense in which faith is opposed to knowledge or reason, but in
the sense in which it implies firm conviction without complete
proof. He claimed what William James characterised as the
' right to believe,' but only after careful enquiry. He describes
his conclusion as a hypothesis which cannot bo fully verified, but

344 CRITICAL NOTICE :

which can be seen to serve as an interpretation of the facts so far
as known. ' It is not easy,' he says (p. 96), ' to exaggerate the
significance of hypothesis ' ; though it has to be admitted that ' no
hypothesis is completely worked out ' (p. 100).

The general nature of the hypothesis that he seeks to put forward
and defend is an idealistic theory of the universe — differing, how-
ever, both from such an idealism as that of Mr. Bradley and
Mr. Bosanquet and from that of Mr. James Ward, and of course
still more markedly from that of William James and those who
are described as pragmatists or humanists. His view is essentially
the Hegelian theory as interpreted by Edward Caird, but stated
somewhat more positively and defended more emphatically. The
fundamental assumption may be briefly stated (p. 106) as ' the
hypothesis of a God whose wisdom and power and goodness are
perfect '. Of the theories that he rejects he evidently stands
nearest to the absolutism of Mr. Bradley and Mr. Bosanquet, and
a large part of the book is devoted to the criticism of their doctrines.
'It is only/ he says (p. 130), 'in such doctrines as those of
Mr. Bradley and Mr. Bosanquet that a genuine recognition of the
apparently inconsistent rights of the finite and the infinite, and, as
a consequence, of morality and religion, makes itself felt.' But he
proceeds to indicate that the treatment of the apparent inconsis-
tency by these two writers appears to him to be in the end un-
satisfactory. The discussion of this subject seems to be the most
valuable part of the book ; and, though it cannot be adequately
dealt with in such a review as this, an attempt must be made to
set forth the main line of argument. The main points of difference
are these : (1) He conceives the Absolute as being personal, not
1 super-personal,' and consequently does not recognise any distinc-
tion between the Absolute and God. (2) He rejects the view that
the human consciousness is properly to be characterised as a
' finite centre '. (3) As a consequence of these differences, he does
not admit so sharp an antithesis between morality and religion as
is made by these writers. (4) Hence also he is led to affirm the
doctrine of human immortality, which they are both inclined to
reject. Some comments on these four points of difference may
be useful.

With regard to the first point, he quotes (p. 315) Mr. Bradley's
statement that ' The highest Reality . . . must be super-personal,'
and says that this is ' a word to which I can attach no definite
meaning at all '. No doubt it does not at once tell what it means ;
but I should have supposed that it could be interpreted as meaning
one or other of two things, either a Being who is personal without
the limitations that are commonly understood as being implied in
the existence of a person, or a unity including persons together
with their relations to one another (as in a human society or in
the Absolute as conceived by Mr. McTaggart). But Jones's con-
tention, if I understand him rightly, is that all persons transcend
the limitations that are implied in their separate individualities,

SIR HENRY JONES, A Faith that Enquires. 345

and that all persons are members of a community and include
within themselves certain relations to others ; and hence that all
persons might be said to be super-personal. The distinction be-
tween one person and another is thus essentially only the difference
of more or less completeness ; so, instead of saying that the
Absolute is super-personal, we should say rather that the Absolute
is the perfect or complete person. Hence also every person, so
far as he approaches completeness, may be said to become identical
with the Absolute. And thus we are led to the second point.

If the view thus taken is correct, it is clear that there is no
sharp distinction between the human and the divine personalities ;
and that it is consequently misleading to lay special emphasis
upon the finitude of the human consciousness. Jones expresses
himself with great boldness and force about this. ' There is not
any limit,' he says in one place (p. 156), 'to the identification of
the worshipper and his God in a true religion.' Again (p. 77)
' the infinite perfection of limitless love actually lives in man.
Every good man is the Child of God, and his life in its strivings
for goodness is the divine perfection operating within him. God
incarnates himself anew in all his children. . . . Here is complete
identification, a losing of one's self in utter devotion and dedication,
and at the same time that marvellous recovery cf the self which
entitles man to say — " I and the Father are one".' Here, as in
his other references to the religious attitude, Jones avails himself
of Christian expressions ; but he might equally well have quoted
the well-known saying of the Indian sages — 'tat tuam asi '. In
some respects the statement ' thou art the Absolute,' addressed to
every one, is more impressive and unmistakeable than the state-
ment ' I am the Absolute,' which might be taken, and has been
taken, as the special claim of a single individual. But I am in-
clined to think that both these modes of expression should be used
somewhat sparingly. They seem to represent only one aspect of
the truth. And, of course, it is hardly necessary to add that neither
Jones nor the Indian sages meant to deny that man has a finite
aspect, as well as an infinite one — that, if he is a God, he is still,
as Browning put it, only ' in the germ '. But what Jones was
protesting against is the tendency to speak as if he were nothing
more than a 'finite centre'. Not only may he transcend his
limitations by identifying himself with the divine, but he may also
identify himself with his fellowmen. In so far as he ' loves his
neighbour as himself,' he may be said to have made this identifica-
tion ; and, if it be urged that such love is rare, Jones at least
would reply that, in the love of a mother for her child, it often
seems to be fully realised. And I do not think that either Mr.
Bradley or Mr. Bosanquet would deny this. But it is perhaps
true that they tend to lay the emphasis rather strongly on the
finitude of the individual, especially in their references to the
moral life, and in their attitude to the question of immortality.

With regard to the relation between morality and religion, it is

346 CBITICAL NOTICE:

important to remember that both these terms are highly ambiguous,
In primitive communities religion is apt to mean little more than a
number of ritual observances, chiefly designed to avert the jealousy
of supernatural powers ; while morality means the rules that regu-
late the actions of human beings with reference to each other and
to the society to which they belong. At such a stage it can hardly
be doubted that morality is the higher of the two. But when re-
ligion ceases to mean the dread of demons and comes to mean
reverence for our highest ideals, and when morality ceases to mean,
obedience to law and comes to mean the effort to realise our ideals,
the relations between them take on a very different character. Sir
Henry Jones insisted on interpreting both terms in the highest sense
that can be given to them ; and his complaint against Mr. Bradley
and Mr. Bosanquet is that they tend to understand morality in a
lower sense, and consequently to represent it as far below what they
understand by religion, and even as being somewhat antagonistic
to it. This is to some extent a verbal question. Jones refers, in
particular (Lecture XI.), to the chapter on ' The World of Claims
and Counter-claims ' in Mr. Bosanquet's work on The Value and
Destiny of the Individual ; and of course he agrees entirely with
Mr. Bosanquet on the unsatisfactoriness of such a world ; but he
refuses to acknowledge it as the world within which the moral life
of humanity is carried on. ' Morality,' he says (p. 164), ' is a con-
tinuous development of mankind's will to good. It is a growing
process : the highest ideal breaking out into a succession of different
manifestations as mankind moves from stage to stage.' And he
urges that the supposed opposition between morality and religion
is due to an effort to ' separate the two aspects of spiritual life, and
substantiate these aspects in their isolation. If the ideal is regarded
as real, the attitude of the spirit is religious and super-moral. If
the ideal is considered to await attainment, the attitude is moral
and apt to be irreligious or merely secular. And inasmuch as it is
assumed that the ideal must be either real or unreal, there is no way
of avoiding the option between the religious and the moral life.
How both can be possible remains unexplained and a mystery in-
capable of explanation from this point of view.' His contention is
that the antithesis of ' real ' and ' unreal ' is solved by the concep-
tion of progressive realisation : and that within this conception there
is room for both morality and religion. ' Eeligion, in the end, is a*
way of life, and life is perpetual intercourse with temporary cir-
cumstance. Nor was there ever living morality not inspired by an
ideal, or a moral life not in pursuit of what was held to be an
absolute and final good.' He was thus a firm believer in the reality
of progress, both in the individual life and in the life of humanity.

Holding such views, he was naturally led also to a belief in human
immortality — not of course on the ground of a claim for compensation
on account of suffering in the present life, but rather on the Kantian
ground of the demand for moral perfection. The following passage
gives the most definite statement on the subject (p. 347) : ' It is

SIR HENRY JONES, A Faith that Enquires. 347'

not possible to maintain the limitless love and power of God if the
soul be not immortal. There are men, so far as we can see, wha<
die in their sins. If death ends all, then their lives can be called
nothing but failures. These persons have missed what is best ;,
they have not used the opportunities of life to build up a good
character. The failure of their lives is, so far as they are concerned^
the failure of God's purpose. It was not benevolent, or it was not
strong enough, to secure their well-being. And what of those indi-
viduals who have not missed the purpose of their present life — but,,
as we would hold, have all their lives morally " attained " ? Is the
result of their strivings, failures and successes to go for nothing,
when death comes ? To affirm this, it seems to me, is impossible
except to those who have not learnt to value spiritual achievement^
What remains for him who thus gives up the ethical character and
the universal ideal of the cosmos ? We have only to ask the
question to perceive that he who gives these things up, gives up,
the conditions under which his rational faculties can be of use.
And the answer of the -believer to the unbeliever is overwhelming L
denial of the immortality of the soul implies absolute Scepticism."
I am not sure that I quite understand what he means by * scepticism '
here. I think he means doubt with regard to the possibility of a,
spiritual interpretation of life.

On the exact nature of the immortality that is thus postulated,,
he does not greatly enlarge ; but two statements at least are sig-
nificant. ' My assumption is, that the intercourse between man
and his world will have a character on the other side of death
similar to that which it has on this side ' (p. 344). ' God's good-
ness being unlimited, the opportunity not made use of by man in,
the present life is renewed for him in another life, and in still
another ; till, at last, his spirit finds rest in the service of the God.
of Love.' It seems clear from these passages that the immortality
that he has in view is akin to that which is at least popularly en-
tertained in the East — successive reincarnations till moral perfec-
tion has been attained. What happens after this attainment seems
to be left with a similar vagueness to that which it commonly has
in the Eastern doctrines. It seems clear, however, in view of what
he has stated, that he could hardly have accepted the Eastern
doctrine of karma, at least in the form in which it is usually ex-
plained. For, according to such explanations, the doctrine appears*
to rest on that conception of ' claims and counter-claims,' which
he so decisively repudiates. The successive embodiments, as-
conceived by him, would not be determined by any reference to
rewards or punishments for previous actions, but purely by the
demand for fresh opportunities for moral growth and education.
This would seem to imply a more real persistence of human per-
sonality than the Eastern sages are in general prepared to admit..
A question naturally presents itself at this point with reference to-
the lower animals. All that Jones says on the general problem
applies primarily to human life ; but, at several points, he seems to.

348 CEITICAL NOTICE:

recognise that the life of beasts is not separated from humanity by
an impassable gulf. He refers several times to maternal love as
the supreme instance that is known to us of self-identification with
another ; and he recognises (p. 72) that this form of love is found
in the lower animals. And, in another passage (p. 102), he states
that ' the whole of the confused and, so far as we can see, cruel
history of the struggle of beast with beast and man with man and
both with nature, must, somehow, prove to be at every step the
.fulfilment of a perfect will '. This appears to point to the sugges-
tion that animal souls also are to be regarded as on the road to
moral attainment. But this is not explicitly stated. Some might
even be disposed to go farther, and enquire whether plants are to
be included, or those sensitive metals that Mr. J. C. Bose appears
to have discovered. Once the principle of individual persistence
is asserted, it is not easy to determine where the line is to be
'drawn.

Sir Henry Jones was not unaware that the general doctrine which
he thus sets forth is beset by serious difficulties, and he admits
them with admirable candour. He notices, in particular, the
difficulty that arises with regard to the perfection of the divine
Being. His fundamental hypothesis is that God is a Being perfect
in wisdom, power and goodness. But he has been led also to re-
gard God as immanent in the changing world. This view, as he
•says (p. 358), ' involves the rejection of the idea of God as perfect
in the sense that He is unchangeable. It looks obvious that what
is perfect cannot change except for the worse. But even were that
true, it does not justify us in saying that the impossibility of change
•or its absence is either a feature or a condition of perfection. It
is evidently a conception that is totally inapplicable to life in every
form and at every stage. Life is constant self -re- creation. . . .
The whole Universe is a single process ; and, if our conclusions
hold, the reality at the heart of that process, which expresses itself
in it, and which in truth it is, is the Absolute of philosophy, the
God of religion.' But, he adds, ' it does not seem easy to justify
the conception of the Divine Being as moving from perfection to
perfection.' Yet this is the view to which he gives his adhesion.

It is here, more than at any other point, that we see the real
source of the difference between the doctrine of Edward Caird,
which Jones in substance adopts, and that of Mr. Bradley and
Mr. Bosanquet. Readers will remember the emphasis that Caird
laid upon the conception of an ultimate ' triumph ' of the good, and
how Mr. Bosanquet criticised that conception. For the latter, as
for Mr. Bradley, perfection is essentially timeless ; and, so far as
it can be said to show itself in time at all, it must be regarded as
showing itself throughout its course. Caird and Jones, on the
other hand, regarded the time process as a real aspect of the
Absolute ; and this seems to imply that the end is more perfect
than the beginning. Perhaps there is a way out of the difficulty
*to which Jones does not explicitly refer. His great hypothesis, as

SIB HENEY JONES, A Faith that Enquires. 349'

we have seen, is that God is to be regarded as perfect in wisdomr
in power, and in goodness. Each of these terms seems to imply an:
outward reference. Wisdom must mean insight into something,
power the ability to do something, goodness the love and support
of something. Hence the nature of God, as thus conceived, would
seem to imply, as it does with Hegel, a process of going out of
self and returning into self. There would be what some have
described as a ' metaphysical fall,' as well as a moral rise. Here
again we may be reminded of the Eastern doctrine of alternating
periods of evolution and involution in the Cosmos. From this
point of view, God (or Brahma) would be only the potentiality of
the completed Cosmos ; and it would only be God together with
his world that could be characterised as absolutely perfect. Or,
to put it otherwise, God would not only be present in the cosmic
process, but would also stand on a Pisgah height from which that
process could be surveyed in its completeness, and to which the
developing consciousness would eventually rise. I believe some-
thing of this kind is implied in Jones's statements. Of course,
even this would not solve the problem of time ; and, indeed, he
does not profess to have solved that problem. On any ' idealistic '
theory, it would seem that the Absolute must be conceived as
highly complex and hard to comprehend in its totality ; and, as
we may see from the elaborate work of Mr. Alexander, this applies
to ' realistic ' theories as well. In neither case can the results be
summed up in a few simple phrases ; but, while Sir Henry Jones
gives us to understand that the denial of personal immortality
would be fatal to his hypothesis, Mr. Alexander is hardly less ex-
plicit in declaring l that the affirmation of it would be fatal to his.
Perhaps these statements may eventually provide us with the
means of applying a crucial test to one or other of them. But
Jones appears to have attached no importance at all to any em-
pirical tests.

It is hardly necessary to call attention to the excellent — some-
times brilliant — style of exposition that is sustained throughout
these lectures. The author's statements are, in general, so trans-
parently clear that it is hardly ever necessary to pause, even for a
moment, to enquire what his real meaning is — though sometimes
its remoter implications may remain a little obscure. He enforces
his views with striking illustrations and pungent phrases, and
often with very happy quotations, chiefly from Browning, Words-
worth, and the Bible. And there is a delightful optimism in his
outlook on the world which it is not easy to resist. This is all the
more remarkable when it is remembered that most of the writing
was done at a time when he was suffering great pain. Yet he
refers emphatically more than once (pp. 72 and 360) to ' the
friendliness of the world '. If he has not solved all the problems
of that world that he loved so deeply, he has at least heartened us.
to struggle with them.

J. S. MACKENZIE.

1 Space, Time and Deity, vol. ii., p. 424.

VII.— NEW BOOKS.

"The Life and Philosophy of Edward Caird, LL.D., D.C.L., F.B.A. By
Sir HENRY JONES, LL.D., and JOHN HENRY MUIRHEAD, LL.D.
Glasgow : Maclehose, 1921. Pp. xi, 381.

'Tnis book is a worthy memorial to a man of singularly lofty character,
whose philosophical achievement, at a remarkable crisis in the develop-
ment of philosophy, was of extraordinary value to the thinking world.
Moreover, by the recent death of Sir Henry Jones, it acquires the interest
of a record, final except for his unfinished Gifford Lectures, offered by
himself, of his own thought and feeling in philosophy ; so entirely was
he one with his great teacher and predecessor in his attitude as a man and
-as a philosopher.

I purposely spoke of Caird's philosophical achievement at a remarkable
crisis in the development of philosophy. Great as is the permanent
value of his writings, it is difficult, perhaps, for those who now have the
opportunity of beginning where he left off, to appreciate the change in the
philosophical prospect effected by the huge task of spadework which he
accomplished in his unhasting and unresting activity. If I were to sum-
marise it in three words, I should say that, together with two or three
-others, he set philosophy free.

To say the very least of them, these men set the example of taking
^.philosophy seriously, and of studying in more schools than one. It was
not that they brought in an esoteric illumination from Germany. It was
rather that they set out to abolish altogether at once the esoteric and the
insular. They determined to know and to bring into intelligible con-
nexion whatever was great in the world's philosophical tradition and in
4he life which was its foundation. Before their ample and persistent
study Plato and Aristotle received a new significance, no less than the
great English thinkers from Locke to Hume and Mill, and Kant with his
predecessors as much as his successors. The English-speaking student at
least, when he began the study of philosophy in the sixties of last
century, had to beat his own path through thickets where now there are
broad high roads.

And here in a further sense Caird's work set philosophy free. Not
merely did he help to let in light and air, but he — not broke by violence
-nor cut as a Gordian knot — but disentangled with long and irksome labour
— the only way in which the chains of the mind can be unloosed — the fetters
which were strangling thought. With the instinct of a heroic pioneer he
made straight for the centre of the labyrinth, the point where the human
mind seemed arrested by irresoluble antagonisms and antitheses that ad-
mitted no movement towards unity. This point was the philosophy of
Kant, in which the ends of the world, so to speak, had come together
^upon the modern mind.

After Caird had in 1877 published his first book upon Kant, by the
time that he had taught in Glasgow for, say, five or ten years from 1866
- onwards, and finally after he had published his second Kantian study —

NEW BOOKS. 351

the work of a lifetime for a man of ordinary energy — in 1889, it was clear
in principle to all men that the barriers were down. The spiritual world
had taken its place as simply the natural world understood in the fullest
light, and within it especially the moral life as the natural life lived at
the highest intensity and in the largest enlightenment. If something
which was not this lesson, but rather, as might seem, its opposite, ap-
peared to be read on the single and several pages of Kant, that was only a
case of the common experience, that the great interpreter's insights are
apt to be diametrically opposed to the superficial reader's assents.

It was now clear that the ancient antitheses of a priori and a posteriori,
supernatural and natural, the thing in itself and the thing for us, had lost
their obstructive power and reciprocally exclusive meaning. Philosophy
had regained something of the amplitude and freedom which it had pos-
sessed in Plato's day ; and its field, no longer parcelled into fractions,
revealed endless fascination to enquirers in every corner of its connected
whole. New groups of thinkers, new growths of thought, sprang up on
•every side, and none of them, probably, were without a serious value.

The character of this great work, due to Caird's generation, is pro-
claimed in the volume before us with striking eloquence and enthusiasm.
It is right and natural that the Life, which occupies the first 160 pages
of the book (the Letters following with 80, and an appreciation of the
Philosophy with 135) should lay stress, as it does, rather on the teaching
And civic activity at Glasgow, and the subsequent functions of the Master-
ship of Balliol, than on the genesis of the books on Kant, the influence of
which necessarily came later than that of the professorial utterances.
Yet a word would have been welcome on the personal aspect of these
works, with the extraordinary exertion which they demanded. The Evolu-
tion of Theology indeed, is mentioned in connexion with the closing Ox-
ford period ; otherwise the treatises figure mainly in the account of the
Philosophy.

The Life, however, is a fascinating study, in its tone of whole-hearted
love and reverence, representing with truth and sincerity the effect of
Caird's influence not merely on his personal friends, but on the enormous
classes which passed through his lecture-room for the twenty-seven years
of his Professorship. He had his hand, it is said somewhere in the book,
on the heart of Scotland ; and those of us who remember what we learned
in our friendships with his students whom we knew at Balliol, can form
some idea of the effect on Scotland, and especially on her churches, of this
continuous stream of awakened and enthusiastic intelligences.

I can only say briefly, what I believe most of us to-day would admit, that
in his political attitude and his social activity Caird, like Green, was
practically always right. The chapter on the subject in the Life is ex-
ceedingly convincing and full of interest for social workers. His per-
sistent and positive attitude, both in industrial matters and on the
relations of women to the University, though never attended by noise or
controversy, had a greater influence than is generally known.

Of the letters, some make up a very charming private correspondence
with a lady singularly gifted both for friendship and for thought, while
some, addressed to Prof. (Sir Henry) Jones, reveal Caird's cautious and
modest attitude in approaching the work of Mr. F. H. Bradley. With his
doubts — or more than doubts — regarding certain aspects of that work
both Sir Henry Jones and Prof. Muirhead fully sympathise, and the sub-
ject is more amply recurred to in the section on Caird's Philosophy, where
some attempt is made to estimate his relation to the younger groups in
general. This is not the place for a discussion. But I hold myself bound
to suggest my own point of view by just referring to two passages of Prof.
Muirhead's argument. It occurs to me that page 280, recognising a feeling

352 NEW BOOKS.

of uneasiness apt to be aroused rather by the width of Caird's formula?
than by any want of truth in them, indicates the need of a further analysis
of experience than that which the sequel of the passage furnishes ; and
that if pages 354 and 355 are to be read as justifiable extremes within one
and the same doctrine, their union makes inevitable a fresh enquiry into
the relative aspects of appearance and reality which belong to the in-
dividual.

Passing from this, I will conclude by pointing out Prof. Muirhead's
well-justified allusion to Dr. McTaggart's true and remarkable estimate
of the first set of Gifford Lectures, those on the Evolution of Religion
(p. 332). If the great books on Kant may seem to-day to have passed
into our foundations, the two sets of Gifford Lectures, and especially, for
the ordinary reader, these the earlier ones, are still a delight and an
illumination to students of religion. Here we have Caird's large and free
method inspired by a crowning interest, which carries the reader forward,
and invites him to participate profoundly in the actual experience before
him. I do not think there is anything finer or more attractive in the
literature of modern philosophy.

BERNARD BOSANQUET.

Hellenism and Christianity. By EDWYN BEVAN. London : Geo.
Allen & Unwin, Ltd., 1921. Pp. 275.

Mr. Bevan's new volume of essays — most of them have appeared before,
but a lover of good literature will be glad to have them collected — has all
the charms one has come to connect with his writing, graceful style, ripe
and all-round scholarship, a delicate controversial touch, an accurate eye
for the vie intime of the human soul, fine and reverent Christian spirit.
It should make a most acceptable work to any one who feels himself, as
many of us do in these days, at the parting of the roads, alive to the high
probability that the whole Christian view of life and duty is on trial in our
day as it never has been before, and anxious to make an enlightened choice
for the better part. I do not say that everyone who reads Mr. Bevan's
pages will be induced to choose with him for the " reproach of the Cross,"
though I have myself no doubt that wisdom lies on that side. But at
any rate, Mr. Bevan's reader will not be misled into choosing the other
way by being offered a caricature of the Christian alternative, — and it is
often caricatured by ill-informed well-wishers no less than by malicious
enemies, — or by the childish pretence that the Christian interpretation of
the Universe is somehow in conflict with that ''science " for which we are
nowadays expected to cultivate an exaggerated admiration. The first
four essays deal with ground which Mr. Bevan has very peculiarly made
his own as an accurate scholar in Hellenistic history and literature. We
are introduced in the Preface to a guiding thought of the whole volume.
What we call our "civilisation," apart from certain ethical and religious
elements deriving from Palestine, is a development, a very recent and
rapid one, from the spirit of " rationalism " which found its classic ex-
pression in Greek philosophy and literature and art, and from tirs spirit,
in the sense of the temper of critical intelligence which insists on " getting
the values of things in their true proportions " there is no getting away.
The essay on East and West then raises the all-important question
whether the rationalist spirit is only an expression of something peculiar
to " Western European humanity ". Is it true that " East is East and
West is West," and that there is really nothing allgemein-menschlich
about the logical temper ? The question imperatively demands discussion
no less in view of the recent recrudescence of every kind of uncritical

NEW BOOKS. 353

superstition among us than in view of the reckless and confident asser-
tions of many who have no personal acquaintance with the " unchanging
East " and some few who have. Mr. Bevan's essay puts very plainly some
of the issues which the anti-rationalists commonly contrive to shirk. It
needed to be pointed out that the inferences commonly drawn from the
absorption of what were once Hellenistic and Christian communities in
Syria and Egypt by an apparently sterile Mohammedanism and the decay
of the ones apparently flourishing intellectual culture of the Caliphate
are misleading. The reminder is timely that the facts in both cases are
commonly misinterpreted. The populations which seem to have lost the
*' Western " culture they once had, are not, in fact, the old populations
of the countries in question. Hellenistic culture in Egypt and Syria did
not die from want of a suitable soil but went down before conquerors from
the Arabian deserts who had neither part nor lot in it. And the once
promising literature and science of Bagdad, again, was destroyed by the
upheavals which sent out successive hordes of Mongolian invaders from
Central Asia. So that the alleged facts of the writers about the " un-
changing East " never really happened. In the essays on Bacchylides and
the Greek Anthology, Mr. Bevan is preparing the way for the admirable
sketch given in the fourth paper, The First Contact of Christianity and
Paganism, of the societies in Europe to which the first message of the
Gospel came. He rightly accentuates the points that Christianity came
in the first instance as a great message of hope to a world absolutely
crashed under the terrors of the unknown to an extent we find it hard to
realise, and that its immediate effect was to offer men a direct communica-
tion with a benevolent Ruler in place of an elaborate and puerile system
(if the word may be used) of magical compulsions of malignant powers.
The extent to which baleful astrological superstition had enslaved the
Hellenistic world (as something of the same kind may not improbably
enslave us again if Christianity should lose its meaning for us), is
admirably illustrated from the "Hermetic " writings by Mr. Bevan. He
does not refer to the literature of Neo-Platonism, but the same thing may
be seen there. The greater Platonists, like Plotinus, ardently opposed
the " world-rulers," even as St. Paul did ; men less firm in their faith, like
Porphyry, took a life-time to emancipate themselves from their terrors ;
how low some could sink may be learned from a work like the Letter
of Abammon to Porphyry for which lamblichus had so long to take a
discredit he did not deserve. The essay on the Gnostic Redeemer, which
forms a pendant to that just spoken of, discusses in an interesting way the
question whether the Scar^p of the Gnostics is an original feature of their
doctrines .or an attempt to graft a borrowing from Christianity on a
scheme of magic which really requires not a " saviour " but a mere
revealer of spells and "words of power". Mr. Bevan inclines to the
latter view, which certainly seems the more logical ; I regret that I have
not the knowledge of the history of Gnosticism necessary for a judgment
on the issue. Two essays which follow give us vivid and pleasing
sketches of the personality of the great man who, next to St. Paul, has
done most to stamp the impress of a commanding personality on the
whole thought of Western Christianity, St. Augustine, "the first modern
man ". I suspect, though Mr. Bevan's pietas towards the greatest intellect
of the centuries when our modern world was in incubation will not allow
him to say so, he, like myself, is by no means of opinion that the enduring
influence of Augustine has been wholly for good.

In the short essay on Dirt we have a very happy attempt made with
true psychological insight to throw light on the curious and universal
association of the unclean and the exceptionally revered and holy under
the common notion of " taboo ". I commend very strongly the sober and

23

354 NEW BOOKS.

judicious tone of the three essays which deal specially with features of the
Chri ,tian conception of the world's history which arouse a great deal of
controversy at the present moment, those on Human Progress, Eschatology
and Reason and Dogma. If I say no more about these essays, it is only
because I could do nothing but express my own warm sympathy with
almost every word of them. I am particularly delighted to see that Mr.
Bevan will not consent to be " in the fashion " by expunging belief in the
miraculous, the Second Advent and the presence of genuine prediction of
the future in Scripture from his creed. This may damage him in the
eyes of some uncompromising "modernists," but I feel assured that he
has the best of the argument and that, without any superfluous jettison of
articles of belief, he succeeds in his last essay, Christianity in the Modern
World, in meeting the "rationalist" (of the Rationalist Press variety)
with as much humour as logic. The germ of the whole book, to my
mind, however, is the essay on A Paradox, of Christianity with its right
insistence that the supernatural hope is of the very essence of Christianity
and that it is lip-service to profess devotion to Our Lord's conception of
human life and duty when your view of our "condition " and destiny is
all the while that of Epicurus or Horace.

A. E. TAYLOR.

Die Religionsphilo sophie des Als Ob, eine Nachpriifung Kants und des
idealistischen Positivismus. By Dr. HEINRICH SCHOLZ. Leipzig :
Felix Meiner, 1921. Pp. 160.

More than ten years ago I endeavoured, by means of an extended review
in MIND (No. 81), to draw attention to the importance of Vaihinger's
monumental survey of the uses of fiction in our cognitive operations, but
apparently neither my review nor its own merits availed to tempt
English philosophers to undertake the 800 pages of Vaihinger's great work.
In Germany its fate was very different. It ran through many editions,
and founded a school. * Idealistic positivism ' now has its own Zeitschrift,
Die Annalen der Philosophie, in which this valuable contribution to the
philosophy of religion originally appeared. Its author, Dr. Scholz, is full
professor of philosophy at the University of Kiel and an honorary D.D. of
Berlin, and his work is a very thorough, lucid and intelligent criticism of
Vaihingor's religious philosophy and kindred doctrines.

Dr. Scholz sets himself to examine Vaihinger's claims that religion is
wholly practical, and therefore does not imply the real existence of any
God, but only willingness to act as if such a being existed, and that such
was the innermost meaning also of Kant's religious philosophy, at least
in his most lucid moments. Coming from so great an authority on Kant,
this contention naturally made a great sensation, which was increased by
the copious documentation Vaihinger produced. Dr. Scholz treats it very
seriously. Incidentally he discusses also F. C. Forberg, who actually held
the view Vaihinger attributes to Kant, Fichte, who did not, Reinhold,
and others, who anticipated Vaihinger. To clear the issue, he distinguishes
several forms in which the notion of ' 6ction ' may be applied to religion.
(1) A man may act as if he believed that God existed, though he doubts
it. (2) He may act like a believer, though he disbelieves. The first is
called the sceptical, the second the paradoxical religion of the as-if. It is
however also possible (3) to act as if one knew, though one knows one
doesn't. This is not the as-i/attitude proper but may be called the Critical.
I may here interpolate that the classification is not exhaustive, because
one may (4) act as if one believed in order to obtain thereby evidence to
justify the belief, and that this is the true pragmatic attitude. Now ac-

NEW BOOKS. 355

cording to Vaihinger Kant's deepest conviction was (like his own) the
second, while Dr. Scholz holds that it was the third, and that religious
pragmatism is a further and valuable variety. The exegetical struggle of
Dr. Scholz with Vaihinger over the body of Kant is spirited, and almost
Homeric : it leaves me with the impression that both champions carry off
trophies. In other words, Kant is pulled to pieces, which is the usual
result of coming to close quarters with him.

After this, Vaihinger and pragmatism are compared. An accurate and
competent exposition of the religious bearings of pragmatism arrives at the
conclusion that they are real philosophy and not preaching. Pragmatism
does really overcome the conflict between faith and knowledge, and is
comparable with Fichtean idealism. It agrees with Vaihinger (1) in its
radical empiricism and rejection of the speculative implications which
survive in Kant. (2) Both agree with Kant that theoretic agnosticism is
inconclusive. (3) In both their philosophy of religion follows at once
from their general principles. This is not so in Kant. They differ in
that (4) The as-if doctrine makes God's existence a fiction, while pragma-
tism takes it seriously. (5) Vitally valuable judgments are as such called
true by pragmatism, but false by Vaihinger.

Finally Dr. Scholz discusses whether either view is really tenable.
Vaihinger's fundamental notion of fiction is attacked with almost the
same objections as were urged by me in 1912, and it is shown (con-
vincingly) that knowing can be regarded as a falsification of the real only
if its true aim is supposed to be 'copying '. Dr. Scholz then criticises the
core of pragmatism, its notion of truth, and finds that though it applies
well to the truth of scientific theories, laws and synthetic principles, it
fails to account for logical and mathematical necessities of thought, and
judgments of perception and of history. It would also include conven-
tional and beneficial lies among truths, and so is both (1) too narrow, and
(2) too wide. (3) It fails to specify for what truths are valuable. (4) It
slurs over the transition from empirical to moral verification, which is
wholly different. It is further pointed out that moral and religious con-
victions are not merely tested by their vital value, but to a large extent
demand theoretic justification.

Hence Dr. Scholz in the end rejects the reduction of religion to a
practical attitude which is common to pragmatism and the as-if. Religion
involves a consciousness of God as the ens realissimum, and it is impossible
toaffirm God in practice, while denying Him in theory. So much for
Vaihinger. As for pragmatism, it has done good service by pointing out
that indifference to religion is not a merely theoretic attitude ; but,
though philosophy can, religion cannot, accept its reduction of God to a
working hypothesis.

I trust that the above analysis makes it clear that Dr. Scholz's argument
is not of the gaseous consistency so common in religious philosophy, but
furnishes food for reflexion to all who are interested in religion. It dis-
poses, I think, of Vaihinger ; but not of pragmatism. For it is not true
that the pragmatic interpretation will not apply to ail truths.

(1) As regards the ' truths ' of logic and mathematics, Dr. Scholz does
not appear to have been acquainted with all the relevant literature. (2)
As for judgments of perception, it is fallacious to argue (p. 140) that
their truth ihas to be presupposed by pragmatism, because perceptions
yield the data to be evaluated. For it is not admitted that truths of per-
ception are really ' given '. Perceptions are always interpretations of data
(which can never be got 'pure '), and as such may be true or false, valuable
or the reverse. (3) It is amazing that the pragmatic import of historical
judgments should be denied at a time when every nation is finding its
political past a mill-stone round its neck, and denied by a German, when

356 NEW BOOKS.

the Versailles Treaty and the whole treatment of Germany explicitly pro-
fesses to rest on a belief about the historical causation of the War. Dr.
Scholz's error is however plainly due to the common confusion of proposi-
tions with judgments. Whenever a historical proposition is turned into a
living judgment, it will always be found that its truth is (a) asserted
against an alternative version of history, and (6) based on consequences
that are still operative and verifiable. (4) The difficulties about beneficial
and conventional lies (which are only verbally lies at all) all arise from the
ancient blunder of converting simply ' all truths work ' ; they are easily
disposed of by distinguishing the various sorts of truth-claim and the
parties involved, and by observing that any lie works only so long as it is
taken as a truth. (5) If the answer to the question ' for what are truths
valuable ? ' is to be stated in general terms,, it must be ' for purposes '.
Anything more specific demands a specification also of the truths. (6) It
may be admitted that many religious doctrines have ' theoretic ' implica-
tions, but it does not follow that these cannot be tested pragmatically.
For just because ' theory ' is essentially a means to ' practice,' and all our
activities are ultimately vital, the distinction between empirical and moral
verification cannot be made absolute. Dr. Scholz makes the further
mistake of supposing that because in religion considerations other than
those of ordinary empirical evidence and scientific reasoning become
relevant and have to be added, the latter are to be ruled out. Whereas
pragmatism has no reason to assume a priori that religious hypotheses are
incapable of verification in any way that is capable of engendering convic-
tion in the human soul, or to abandon its belief that " by faith we may
also know ".

F. C. S. SCHILLER.

The Ethical Theory of Hegel : a Study of the Philosophy of Right. By
HUGH A. REYBURN, Professor of Logic and Psychology at the Uni-
versity of Cape Town. Oxford : at the Clarendon Press, 1921. Pp.
xx, 271.

This book was dedicated to Sir Henry Jones by an admiring pupil ; and
the fervent love of the ' sincere milk ' of the Hegelian gospel, by which
Jones was so eminently distinguished, has obviously been, in a high de-
gree, communicated to his disciple. Hegel's Rechtsphilosophie has already
been translated into English (though perhaps not quite satisfactorily) by
Mr. S. W. Dyde ; and what Mr. Reyburn gives us here is a careful and
most instructive commentary upon it, with occasional critical discussions.
To present any constituent part of the philosophy of Hegel in a way that
makes it thoroughly comprehensible to educated English readers is by no
means easy ; and Mr. Reyburn seems to me to have carried out his task
with a remarkable measure of success. He knows where the difficulties
lie, and he does not shirk them.

He wisely devotes a considerable part of his book to a general account
of Hegel's philosophical attitude and method, explaining, in particular,
the relations of the Logic to the more concrete studies, the sense in which
Hegel's identification of the Real and the Rational is to be interpreted,
and the place occupied by the Rechtsphilosophie in the system as a whole.
He then proceeds to a detailed analysis of the Philosophy of Right, de-
voting special attention to everything that seems liable to misinterpreta-
tion, supplementing his account by frequent references to other writings
of Hegel, and occasionally, especially near the end, calling attention to
what appear to be inconsistencies or defects in Hegel's treatment.

The work is so well done that one is tempted to wish for more ; and

NEW BOOKS. 357

perhaps I cannot do better in this review than try to indicate some ways
in which it might possibly be improved in a future edition.

I suppose I ought not to suggest any change of title ; but it may at
least be permissible to remark that ' Theory of Ethics ' is calculated to
convey a somewhat erroneous impression. Anyone who took up the book
expecting to find in it a discussion of the topics commonly dealt with in
ethical treatises, such as the relations between desire and will, the mean-
ing of motive and intention and the judgments that are passed on them,
the summum bonum, the duties and virtues, the methods of determining
what is right (as distinguished from what are rights), would be a good
deal disappointed. Moreover, the term * ethical ' is used in the body of
the work in a somewhat special sense. No doubt to call the book ' Theory
of the State ' would suggest too narrow a reference ; and ' Theory of
Bights ' would be puzzling. But I do not see why it should not be called
' Social Philosophy '. All the subjects dealt with appear to fall readily
under that designation. But no doubt the distinction between Ethics
and Social Philosophy is a somewhat thin one ; and perhaps Hegel would
not have admitted it.

Passing to the method of treatment, I am inclined to agree with Mr.
Reyburn that this part of Hegel's system is peculiarly well adapted to
serve as an introduction to his philosophy — especially perhaps for some-
what mature readers who have already acquired an interest in legal, moral,
and political questions. Hence he was well advised in devoting a con-
siderable part of the book to a general explanation of the Hegelian point
of view. But I believe he might, with advantage, have done rather more
than he has to remove some of the prejudices that are apt to be present
in the minds of readers on their first introduction to Hegel — especially
readers who are already familiar with very different methods of treatment.
For such readers it is probably not enough, for example, to explain that
in the statement that ' The Real is the Rational,' Reality has to be under-
stood in a special sense. What is wanted is rather some concrete instance
that would make the meaning plain. I suggest that the case of the Family
might be taken as such an instance. The normally permanent monogamic
type seems clearly to be the only one that can be rationally defended.
Now, many other types have certainly existed. Westermarck's History,
which has just appeared in an enlarged edition, gives a very full account
of them. But what one learns from reading such a history is that the
other types have only had a sporadic existence at certain times and
places in which the circumstances were peculiar. * What is deepest rooted
in nature,' as Carlyle put it, is what on the whole is ' found growing '.
Instances of this kind seem to me to make Hegel's meaning clear in a way
that no definition of terms can do.

Again, readers of Hegel are apt to get the impression that he is need-
lessly hard — almost brutal. He was of course aware that human life can-
not be altogether made into a bed of roses ; and, like Carlyle, he thought
it necessary to set himself in opposition to certain forms of sentimentality
that were prevalent in his time. His emphasis on punishment is one of
the points at which this is apparent. Now, some readers might be apt to
think that, like Carlyle, he was in favour of the treadmill, or that he would
have approved of some of the harsh methods that have prevailed in certain.
English schools. To guard against this, it should be clearly pointed out
that the kind of punishment he has in mind is that which the offender
himself feels the need of when he repents — such a punishment, for instance,
as Dr. Johnson inflicted upon himself when he stood bare-headed at his
father's bookstall in Uttoxeter. His decisive condemnation of slavery is
well emphasised by Mr. Reyburn ; and here also his attitude might be
contrasted with that of Carlyle.

358 NEW BOOKS.

Finally, there is a general impression in many quarters that Hegel's
theory of the State laid the foundations of what is now commonly referred
to as Prussianism. Mr. Bey burn's book was written before the War ; and
this ground of attack was consequently not so much present to his mind
as it would have been now. When a new edition is called for, it might
be well to refer at some length to this subject. It could, I think, be
pointed out that Hegel's approval of Prussian methods has been consider-
ably exaggerated. Some of his own contemporaries blamed him for the
half-heartedness of his support. His conception of the place of the
monarch seems clearly to have been suggested by the British constitution
rather than by the Prussian. But, it may be urged, did he not at least
represent war as a permanent necessity, and did he not ignore the sugges-
tions that had been already put forward by Rousseau and Kant for the
establishment of a condition of lasting peace ? Perhaps he ought to have
taken more account of these. I think Mr. Reyburn is right in believing
that the concluding part of the Rechtsphilosophie is the part that is most
open to criticism. The best defence, I suppose, is that Hegel was, con-
trary to what is sometimes thought, an eminently practical person. He
was anxious not to give his support to anything that could not be seen to
be, in Aristotle's phrase, rrpaKrov K.OL KT^TOV dv0pa>7r<t> ; and at the
time at which he wrote he might well have been excused for thinking that
such proposals as those of Rousseau and Kant were Utopian. But there
does not seem to be any ground for thinking that he regarded war as in
itself a good, or as a normal condition of national life. He mentions it as
the negative element that confronts the State in the dialectic of history
and as being essentially tragic. We might have expected him to point to
a higher unity in which the weakness of the isolated State could be over-
come. But Hegel declined the role of prophet. He was a believer in
progress, as his Philosophy of History shows ; but he was convinced that
the philosopher, like the owl of Minerva, can only venture to come out
with his interpretations when the day's work is over. This may have been
a weakness in him ; but at least it would not be easy to point to any other
philosophers who have been much more successful in forecasting the
future. He certainly did good service, at a time of considerable anxiety
and serious dismemberment, in emphasising the importance of a stable
and well organised constitution. I think he had a keen consciousness of
the weakness that lay in the somewhat somnolent Geuiiithlichkeit of his
native Wiirtemberg, and looked to Prussian energy as a corrective. Also
it should be remembered, as Mr. Reyburn points out, 'that if, in the
Rechtsphiloxophie, which is mainly concerned with the dialectical evolution
of the State, he seems somewhat to overrate the importance of that aspect
of human life, there are other writings of Hegel — especially those con-
cerned with art and religion — in which he deals with modes of experience
that transcend the limitations of the State.

Mr. Reyburn is careful to state in his Preface that the fellow-workers
who assisted him are not to be held responsible for his ' mistakes '. I
must confess that I have not succeeded in detecting these. There is, in-
deed, an unfortunate slip in the Introduction (p. xx), where he says that
he translates Realitat by ' reality ' : it is by ' actuality ' that he translates
it. There may be other small defects in the body of the work ; but, on
the whole, it may be heartily recommended to all who desire to gain a
genuine insight into the social and political side of Hegel's philosophy ;
and, as Mr. Reyburn is still a comparatively young writer, it may not be
irrelevant to add that his work gives promise of still greater achievements
in the future.

J. S. MACKENZIE.

NEW BOOKS. 359

Self and Neighbour. By E. W. HIRST. London : Macmillan & Co., Ltd.,
1919. Pp. ix, 291. 10s.

Mr. Hirst's book is in every way a competent piece of writing. He has
worked out for himself a doctrine of the Moral Good ; and he presents it
with a firmness and a quiet dignity that testify to his belief .that his view
will stand, as it has obviously sprung from, the criticism of reflexion and
of practice. One is a little struck by the contrast between the essential
poise and self-possession of the book and its anxiety to relate its teaching
at every point to kindred doctrines. Mr. Hirst knows his own mind :
and his book would perhaps have been more direct and convincing if he
had been less careful of the opinions of others. But it is a fault of a
generous mind : and it does not affect the value of a genuine essay in
constructive ethical philosophy.

The first part of Mr. Hirst's book is a critical historical survey of lead-
ing types of ethical theory. His aim, it is clear, is to show that the defects
of these theories have arisen from their failure to start from and remain
within what is to Mr. Hirst the central ethical and psychological fact of
community. It is easy, of course, to find in at least one main stream of
ethical thinking, ample recognition of the dependence of ' ego ' on * alter,'
and of both on ' society '. But Mr. Hirst's view is that the relation has
not been taken concretely enough, and has been constructed into some-
thing other than it actually is. Either the relation is one obtaining
between two independent selves, and therefore essentially secondary — so
that the moral good is stated in terms of individual persons : or (more
rarely) the persons are mere terms of a relation, so that the good is not
' personal ' in any recognisable sense of the word. The first alternative
gives the varying forms of egoism and of altruism, and the attempt to find
a satisfactory mediation between them. The second on which Mr. Hirst
has less to say in Part L, though it is just as relevant to his purpose, is
really the denial of personality as a moral end at all.

The criticism leads up to Mr. Hirst's exposition of his own view. Es-
sentially this is an attempt so to interpret the doctrine of community as
to give reality both to selves and to the relation between them, to hold
that while selves are constituted by their relations to one another, the
selves which are thus constituted are themselves real ; and their relations
are created by their own activity. The k good,' for Mr. Hirst, is ju^t this
' inter- personal activity,' the good at once ot a self and of all selves, at
once personal and social. "It is not ' good ' which is common, but * com-
munity ' which is good." It is in this direct inter- personal relationship,
in this activity for the attainment of common ends that the individual
finds his ' good ' : and in finding it, apprehends that the divergence of in-
terest between ' self ' and ' others ' does not exist.

This activity is not formal. It is not a mere will to good, but a will to
achieve such ends as spring from the reality of its existence. The basic
and dominating thing is that in a society of personalities living at this full
stretch of common lifo, purposes do emerge : and if, on one side, it is
these purposes which seem to t<ive content to the common will, on the
other hand, they are go< d because they express that will at its fullest.
The simplest and most direct form of thi- inter-personal activity is in
the relation of parent to child : and in the purposes that spring from this
relation, there is a type of the working of the good will in every kind of
manifestation. " If it be asked, what is the nature of community as an
ethical principle, we can only reply that, indefinable as it is i i itself, it is
such a life as a man would live who regarded humanity as a family." This
experience, Mr. Hirst insists, and the justification of it as the ' moral
good,' are not to be compassed by intellectual means alone. "To be

360 NEW BOOKS.

fully known, it mast be experienced. . . . It is not describable in merely
intellectual terms : for it is a form of the life of the self as a whole, and
is illustrated in the unity felt by the members of a family."

Mr. Hirst adds several interesting chapters on the theoretical and
practical implications of his doctrine. I should like especially to draw
attention to his treatment of the relation of metaphysics and ethics. But
the critical question for his book is as to how far he has succeeded in
making this conception of the good as inter-personal activity at once con-
sistent and concrete. It is a difficult position to state : the matter of
emphasis is so all-important. But Mr. Hirst certainly seems to me to
have done considerable service in the mere stating of the problem, and to
have given a persuasive defence of his general thesis. He might, perhaps,
since the point is so very central to his position, have elucidated more
fully the process by which he conceives that the ends which are sought in
the primary form of the family so expand that they require for their
achievement a wider community of life inspired by the same inter-
personal activity. But the principle of the deduction is clear enough :
and Mr. Hirst may fairly claim to have shown the possibility of basing
an ethical theory on a consideration of the concrete relationships within
which selves maintain themselves and discover their own nature.

H. J. W. H.

Evolutionary Naturalism. By ROY WOOD SELLARS. Chicago : Open
Court Publishing Company, 1922. Pp. xiii, 343.

Mr. Sellars has written a book notable in the kind to which we have now
become accustomed from the producing generation of American philo-
sophers. It is an industrious contribution to the coming " final " system
of Evolutionary Naturalism. Starting with an exposition of the theory of
knowledge known as Critical Realism, Mr. Sellars ploughs remorselessly
through ten chapters of category-genetics, and attains the crux of his
system in the penultimate chapter on the Mind-Body problem.

All the modern discussions are familiar to our author, more so, perhaps,
than the older philosophies, for he shows a keen anxiety to be on the
crest of the incoming wave ; and he has obviously been influenced by
"the truth" in all these vain attempts, and has dexterously eliminated
the falsity, and " by stepping warily and using distinctions " (p. 194) has
welded the whole together into a world-view in harmony with the conclu-
sions of science, and largely content with those conclusions. In a phrase,
he offers a view of nature as a self-explanatory, self-sufficient, self-creat-
ing, physical reality, as opposed to a " dead-level " mechanical naturalism.
And if as against mechanism he cites " creative synthesis," even more
pointedly as against supernaturalism he offers evolution and the genetic
method. His is a naturalism which does not level down, and if it does
not, as idealism does, level up, at least it faces facts such as the appear-
ance of the new quality of life in organic systems, and more important
still, that crucial instance of such novelty, the conscious experience of
man which emerges from, and in turn guides, his living body.

Into the details of Critical Realism I cannot enter, but I must indicate
its main results as they affect the present speculation. The fundamental
thing is the distinction between subjective contents and objects known,
which corresponds more or less with the distinction of two kinds of
knowledge : awareness of contents and knowledge-about objects. At the
same time, contents are objects of awareness ; they are subjective only be-
cause they are " intra-organic responses to stimulation of sense organs "
(p. 26). Mr. Sellars' use of the terms content, object, and thing is very

NEW BOOKS. 361

perplexing, but I gather that the term content covers not only sense-data
but also the phenomenal objects of perception, as well as propositions ;
everything, in fact, except physical things (and perhaps other minds).
The phenomenal object, although it is not a thing, is more than mere
passive sensuous content ; it involves judgment, and is the synthetic unity
of sense-datum and meaning, dominated by the " sense of thinghood" (p.
26). The plain man mistakes this object-content for a thing and is thus
guilty of Naive Realism ; the Idealist makes the converse blunder. But
the Critical Realist knows that the physical thing is not the object of per-
ception, and is not given to awareness. Nevertheless we may know about
it, and that knowledge is the result of inference from the patterned and
continuous data (p. 190), which are already adaptive responses to the
things which cause them. In perception we "clothe the object" (p. 34)
in the sensuous content, but in knowledge-about we use the content as
material for analysis and construction. And what do we know about
physical things ? We know that they are orderly, massive, and executive
(p. 15), have comparative size and position, structure, texture, consti-
tuents, relations ; that they change, behave, and have capacities of vari-
ous kinds (pp. 35, 42).

This is not the place for detailed criticism of such a theory, but those
who are interested in the matter will find that Mr. Sellars is really in
difficulties because he has not realised (or remembered) that the distinc-
tion between awareness and knowledge-about is not at all identical with
that drawn by Mr. Alexander between enjoyment and contemplation.

However that may be, it is upon his epistemological distinctions that
Mr. Sellars bases his solution of the Mind-Body problem. That solution
is that mind is a "physical category" (p. 299), that consciousness is a
"natural ingredient of functioning cortical systems" (p. 294), and that
the reason why we cannot grasp the connexion is that while we have
knowledge-about the organism, we have immediate awareness of conscious-
ness itself. Now that is undoubtedly ingenious and contains a profound
truth. Nevertheless, however we might be prepared to allow that a dis-
tinction of enjoyment and contemplation would conceal the actual
emergence of enjoyed consciousness from contemplated cortical pro-
cesses, there is certainly no reason to suppose that it must conceal the
secretion of the objective contents of awareness. If that process is not
clear it is simply because it is secret and occult, or, as I should suggest,
highly speculative.

It is from this notion of Creative Synthesis that Evolutionary Natural-
ism proceeds. Mr. Seliars lays stress on the development of biological
science as tending to undermine the earlier "dead-level" naturalism.
Even inorganic matter is active, subtle, and responsive ; it lends itself to
" mobile integrations which under the hand of time may lead to tremend-
ous novelties " (p. 263). Creative synthesis means " the frank admission
of novelty without an appeal to a superphysical agent " (p. 297). Now,
however valuable that notion may be for scientific methodology, it is not
philosophically satisfying. There is all the difference in the world be-
tween explaining a difficulty and getting used to it. Philosophy must do
more than " reflect the contemporary drift " (p. 298). What are the im-
plications and limits of creative synthesis ? I suggest these problems as
worthy of Mr. Sellars' earnest consideration. I do not say that they
would lead him further than he is prepared to go, but they would
certainly lead him further than he has gone. Nor would his journey neces-
sarily be in the direction of a vicious supernaturalism ; rather the contrary :
it was not a good naturalistic explanation which was offered by the first
High Priest, that having cast gold into the fire, "there came out this calf ".

H. F. HALLETT

362 NEW BOOKS.

An Analysis of Certain Theories of Truth. By GEORGE BOAS. University
of California Publications in Philosophy, Vol. v., No. 6. Berkeley,
Cal., 1921. Pp. 187-290.

The University of California has long distinguished itself by the abundance
and quality of its philosophic publications, and the above study takes high
rank among its productions. It is well argued and well written and makes
a real contribution to its subject. Dr. Boas starts by pointing out that
theories of truth have the peculiarity of forming part of their own subject
matter, i.e., of being themselves cases of the 'truth ' they set themselves
to define. Hence any definition of truth that is adopted must (1) be true
of the definition itself. This he calls being self-critical. (2) That it may
not begin by begging the question, it must be general, i.e., must not pre-
suppose any specific metaphysic or psychology or epistemology. (3) It
must produce a tenable account of falsity. (4) It must be applicable.
He then proceeds to examine how far the current theories meet these re-
quirements.

(a) The first of these he calls Logical Hedonism and regards as very
common. This insists that truths must please, and are adopted because
of the 'emotional thrill' they give. It is itself pleasing, and so f self-
critical '. It is relativistic indeed, being relative both to those it pleases,
and as yielding no absolute truth : but this does not damn it. For by
its own criterion a theory could become absolute only by pleasing every
soul or an absolute soul (the latter only if it were absolutely the only
soul !). It is also 'general,' and accounts for falsity, by reducing it to-
discomfort. But it is not applicable to all cases. We cannot decide by
its means whether Caesar crossed the Rubicon in A.D. 1493 or in 625 B.C., if
we don't care when he did.

(6) Truth as the irresistible is also subjectivistie. What cannot be
denied and must be believed, is true. This theory is not 'self-critical '.
For if it were, it would be universally adopted the moment it was heard.
Nor is it general, for it demands a passive subject. It has no criterion of
falsity; nor applicability, because it cannot say when psychological im-
pressiveness passes into logical irresistibility.

(c) The ' correspondence ' theory has suffered from ' ' the obscurity of the
obvious" and was never stated fully. Now, it is never stated openly.
Here the initial difficulty is its inapplicability. We have no means of
knowing whether the correspondence with ' fact ' in which the theory
consists, exists in fact. For this same reason it cannot be declared ' self-
critical'. It accounts indeed for falsity as correspondence with non-
existent fact ; " but to what do meaningless propositions correspond ? "
Or practical ? In some forms, however, it appears to be * general '.

(d) Formal consistency, or lack of contradiction, may be taken as assur-
ance of truth. This makes truth systematic, but does not apply to the
postulates on which the consistent systems rest. Also a system may be
consistent and false. In fact two false, or one true and one false, proposi-
tions may be consistent, and two false, or two true, propositions, incon-
sistent (e.g., if they belong to different geometries). So the theory is not
1 self-critical '. It is 'general ' enough, but can recognise falsity only in a
few self-refuting propositions. It cannot be applied, because a contradic-
tion only tells us that something is wrong, not what is right.

(e) Can truth be made consistent and absolute in one total truth and
the coherence of the one significant Whole be The Truth ? Such truth
would be reality, and human truth pales into insignificance beside it.
However "the theory is not self-critical. For if truth is the whole, state-
ments about truth are not true " (p. 248). They cannot be more than
partly true. So absolutism also, of which the theory asserts the truth,.

NEW BOOKS 36$

has only partial truth, and there's no knowing how far it is true. Even
the absolutist moreover must admit that the Whole is not wholly true,
but includes some falsity, e.g., 'Absolutism is false'. Ergo it is either
true that absolutism is false, or else it is not the whole of truth. Further,
absolutism is not ' general '. It requires a specific metaphysic, theory
of judgment and logic of (internal) relation. It seems, however, to ac-
count for falsity. Falsity means the claim of a partial judgment to be
true. But as all judgments are partial and all claim truth, what follows,
is (1) that all are false, and (2) that only absolutists err. The former con-
sequence might be welcome, though it would not tell us what made them-
false nor what the distinction between * true ' and ' false ' could mean.
The latter means that the absolutist alone can be aware that the truth-
claims he makes are false. His adversaries would not make them, if they
thought them false. Lastly, the truth that all partial truths are only-
par tly true cannot be applied to determine how true they are.

(/) There remain only the voluntarists. For them truth arises out of
the interpretation of signs. Such interpretation is purposive and experi-
mental, and continues till the impelling interest is satisfied. Now thi&
theory is plainly ' self-critical ' ; it is willing to be tested by its working.
It is also general enough, though it implies an activist epistemology.
Error it explains as the ' anti-truth ' which defeats it. Its applicability is.
assured, because it is built for application, and lets verification determine
verity.

I trust that the necessity of compression has not entirely obscured the
dialectical brilliancy of Dr. Boas's argument, which calls for criticism on
one point only. Dr. Boas at times substitutes a proposition for a real
judgment, as formal logic teaches its students to do. This is why he dis-
misses Logical Hedonism for failing to get any pleasure out of ' Csesar
crossed the Rubicon in A.D. 1493' : he has failed to notice that this is a.
paper ' judgment ' or mere proposition, until it has been put in a context
in which it is really asserted and its truth or falsity matters. The
moment this is done, its emotional value will appear. Thus the 'hedon-
istic' theory will satisfy the four tests as well as the voluntaristic— a result
foreshadowed by the fact that it often fuses with ife into the conception
of truth as the satisfaction of a purpose, and by the common charge that
for a voluntarist truth is whatever he wishes to believe. So far from ad-
mitting, however, that " if * true ' is defined as ' agreeable ' the two terms
ought to be equivalent" (p. 193), Dr. Boas should have pointed out
that the demand that truth should be desirable, satisfactory or agreeable,,
could not be converted into 'anything agreeable is true '. It cannot mean
more than that it is a species of the agreeable, and if so its differentia must
be stated. ' Logical hedonism ' would thereby transform itself into the in-
nocuous theory that truth was the pleasure or value arising from the satis-
faction of a cognitive purpose. Which would be quite a good definition for
human purposes.

F. C. S. SCHILLER.

Fichte et son Temps. Vol. I. By XAVIER LEON. Paris : Armand Colin,,
1922. Pp. xvi + 649.

M. Leon has planned his work on a magnificent scale. In this volume he-
deals only with Fichte's life till the departure from Jena at the age of
thirty-seven. Two more volumes will be required to complete his task.
So large a book enters naturally into much detail. But M. Leon never
allows the details to obscure the main outlines. In spite of the trees we-
can always see the wood, and this is the highest praise that can be given
to the author of a biography.

364 NEW BOOKS.

As long ago as 1902 M. Leon published a work on the philosophy of
Fichte which gave a most full and admirable account of it. In the present
Tolume, in consequence, there is no, very long exposition of the works
published by Fichte in the period under consideration. It is his life, and
the influences which affected him, of which we learn.

There are three things which are brought out very clearly in this
volume. The first is that the ardent belief in the virtues and destiny of the
German nation which is so marked in his later life was absent in his earlier
years. He then looked to France for the salvation of the world (Fichte,
unlike Hegel, was always convinced that the world was in a bad way, and
required salvation very urgently). As late as 1799, he contemplated re-
moving to the University of Maintz, which was just then in French territory,
and hoped to be followed by many of his colleagues and pupils. It was
not till the establishment of the Empire that he decided that France was
not the destined saviour of the world, and that Germany was. This
change of opinion took place later than the period dealt with in this
volume, but it is sketched very effectively by M. Leon in his Introduction.

The second point which becomes clear from M. Leon's book is the
tremendous position which Fichte held in Germany in 1799. No such
position had then been held by so young a man since the beginning of
modern philosophy. Berkeley and Hume, indeed, had published their
greatest works when they were twenty-five and twenty-eight. But the
Principles of Knowledge was only read by Berkeley's contemporaries to
be laughed at, and the Treatise on Human Nature was not read by
Hume's contemporaries at all. At thirty -seven Fichte was acclaimed as
the thinker who had succeeded and had surpassed Kant. He was the
leading philosopher in a nation which was more interested in philosophy
than in any other subject.

Then came the accusation of atheism and his dismissal. M. Leon's
account of this is full of interest. There cannot be the least doubt that,
in any ordinary sense of the word, Fichte was at this time as much an
atheist as Spinoza. "To believe in God" — so M. Leon sums up
Fichte's position — " is not to affirm the existence of some unknown,
mysterious, and incomprehensible being ; it is to act conformably to
duty " (p. 519). Fichte was accused of atheism in the ordinary sense of
the word, and it is no answer to the accusation to say that he was not an
atheist in a sense of the word which had been invented by himself. The
question was whether he should be allowed to teach what is ordinarily
called atheism.

There was only one answer to that question in 1799 for a small
German state which was badly frightened by the French Revolution. The
administration of Weimar, indeed, would probably have been content if
Fichte had agreed not to teach the condemned doctrines, and would have
allowed him to keep his chair. Kant had agreed to this course in con-
nexion with his Religion within the Limits of Mere Reason, but that was
only an appendix to Kant's philosophy, while Fichte's philosophy centred
round his doctrine as to God.

It would probably have been impossible for Fichte to keep his chair in
any case, and the unfortunate letter to Voigt rendered the matter hopeless.
" I would have dismissed my own son," Goethe wrote, " if he had allowed
himself such language in relation to a government." Goethe was not only
Goethe, he was a German official of 1799. But it may be doubted whether
any University, in any period, would have retained a Professor who had
written such a letter. Fichte himself, while maintaining that he was per-
fectly right, admitted that the Weimar authorities could not, from their
standpoint, have acted otherwise (p. 620).

The author hopes to publish the remaining volumes in 1923 and 1924.

NEW BOOKS. 365

They will be expected with impatience by every student of the gi eat days
of German Idealism.

J. ELLIS M'TAGGART.

Lotze's Theory of Reality. By E. E. THOMAS, M.A., Late Fellow of the
University of Wales. London: Longmans, Green & Co., 1921..
Pp. 1, 217.

Lotze's theory of thought, our author says, ' has already been adequately
dealt with by Sir Henry Jones/ and Mr. Thomas therefore restricts him-
self to Lotze's theory of reality. Indeed, he completes Sir Henry Jones's
original project ; for the preface to Sir Henry Jones's book promised a
companion volume on precisely the subject of this one, and as Sir Henry
apparently abandoned his design long before his lamented death, he left
the field clear for another author (may we say for another Welshman ?) to
continue what he had begun.

On the other hand, this state of affairs is perhaps unfortunate for the
younger author. Comparisons are scarcely avoidable, and there is nothing
in the present book to match Sir Henry Jones's brilliant introductory
chapter on * The main problem of Lotze's philosophy '. Mr. Thomas, it
is true, deals in part with the same general subject in his introduction
(which is largely historical) and in his concluding chapter (on ' Lotze's
achievement and influence ') ; but although he says the right things, he
always says them tamely, and anyone who requires an introduction to
Lotze (and is not familiar with Sir Henry Jones's book) will find it very
hard to infer from this one why Lotze asked himself the questions that he
did ask, why he reasoned as he did, and what manner of man he was.
Lotze's Stoff-Hunger, his zeal for the ordinary consciousness ; his conse-
quent attempt to clip the wings of Hegelian idealism, on the one hand,
and of scientific naturalism on the other hand, and the other aims which
Sir Henry Jones portrayed so vividly, are treated here as if they were
dead issues to be set down, conscientiously, in tolerable order.

Mr. Thomas, indeed, has so little sympathy with Lotze's Stoff-Hunger
that he passes over the whole of the second book of the Metaphysics — the
Cosmology — in his detailed exposition. On the other hand, his first six
chapters make a fair attempt to deal with the first Book, and the eighth
and ninth begin the discussion of Book III. (Psychology), although they
turn very quickly to the treatment in the Microcosmus. Two chapters on
the metaphysical import of the Logic come next, and Lotze's suggestion at
the end of the Metaphysics introduces a chapter on "Moral Values as de-
termining the nature of reality ". The seventh chapter ('The passage to
the human soul ') gives no references except two (on the same page) to a,
section of the Microcosmus.

In view of Lotze's lengthy and involved philosophising it was, perhaps^
inevitable that Mr. Thomas should circumscribe his discussion somewhat
in the above fashion. Certainly, two of the main contentions of Lotze's
general metaphysic — the attempt to prove that things are selves, and the
place assigned to M— are fully discussed in this volume, and Lotze's third
main contention — his doctrine of relations — is treated (although inade-
quately) at some length. On the other hand, the reader would be helped
if the references were fuller, and if something of what is omitted were in-
dicated in footnotes at least.

If the discussion is never very lively, it is always patient and pains-
taking. Mr. Thomas does not obtrude his own standpoint ; he has no axe
to grind ; and he deserves all the praise which is due to these estimable
qualities. Per contra, his book would have been far better if he had

-366 NEW BOOKS.

treated the English language with reasonable respect. The word * data '
is not singular (p. 195) ; there is no excuse for speaking of 'structional '

startle' (p. 34) or of 'approximating' one thing to another (p. 115).
Among a host of sentences which might have been better put, I cite the
following : "Thus the fact of the existence of bodily sensations, and also
the fact that there is a changing individuality of experienced sense con-
tent different from the permanent individuality of sense content as going
to the constitution of an objective world, go to show the existence of a soul
life which is exclusive of, and which stands over against the world of ob-
jects " (p. 93).

" Lotze" is printed "Lotz" on pp. xlii and xliv, and the reference to
Met., sec. 329 (p. 105 n.), should be to sec. 239.

JOHN LAIRD.

Le Regne de la Pense'e. By PAUL DECOSTEB, Professeur a I'Universite de
Bruxelles. BruxeUes : M. Lamertin, 1922. Pp. 93.

'This is the sequel to La Rtforme de la Conscience which was noticed by
the present writer in MIND, April, 1920. These two little books, each of
about ninety pages, are full of profound thought, and though not easy
reading will well repay study ; for they represent an attempt to develop
a philosophy which shall hold consistently to the central thought of l ' in-
trinsic value ". Such a philosophy owes its importance to the fact that it
is the spiritual analogue of a pure mechanical philosophy : both represent
.an attempt at perfect consistency of outlook. The one philosophy
stresses reality per se, and denies value ; the other stresses value, and
denies reality per se. . The importance of each depends on the extent to
which it succeeds in eliminating the fundamental concept of the other.
For philosophies of this type, when given clear expression, are " limiting
cases " which throw the maximum light on the conceptions which are at
man's disposal for the solution of his problems, and enable him step by
step to mark out the complexity of the field of his labours.

The fundamental aim for philosophy, on M. Decoster's view, is the
discovery of what has intrinsic value. In the second place, in our search
>for intrinsic value we must not appeal to any u faculty," such as knowing
or feeling, etc., but must rest on the whole nature of man. Thirdly, for
M. Decoster, the possession of intrinsic value is the sole test of reality.

From these three propositions the rest of his argument in its main lines
seems to follow inevitably. For a judgment predicating value of an in-
dependent real is a contradiction in terms. Value supposes that the sub-
ject of the value and the recogniser of it are the same. Indeed " recogni-
tion!" only covers the same problem. Strictly speaking, you do not so
much recognise value as act or create it ; or rather, genuine recognition is
possible only as an element in the act of creation.

It is not enough, however, to deny the existence, or the reality, of a
'world independent of a self. It is necessary to turn away at the outset
even from an objectivity considered as essentially related to a conscious-
ness. If what has intrinsic value is alone real, then our first and last
concern should be with the realisation of intrinsic value. M. Decoster's
fundamental point is the necessity of delivering thought " a la fois du
souci de 1'objectivite et de la hantise de 1'Etre. La denomination intrin-
-seque est anterieure en droit a toute determination objective. Qui pour-
suit 1'une, doit faire table rase de 1'autre. . . . Non moins que 1'appar-

NEW BOOKS. 367

«nce, la realite est illusoire " (32). This, which he endeavoured to justify
in the Reforme by a criticism of other philosophies, is taken in Le Regne, de
la Pen*ee as the starting point, as a direct consequence of the assertion of
the supremacy of intrinsic value.

We are then thrown back upon the self as the ultimate source of all
value and all reality ; the phenomenal world which is presented as inde-
pendent of me must be shown to be derived in some way from me. Again,
if we are to find in the universe any more than a single self, we must
obtain our justification for it in what we discover in the single self. This
is one of M. Decoster's central points ; and it is worked out in his account
of man in society in Ch. iii. Contact with other persons, it is obvious, is
a matter of varying quality and degree ; in its highest and most essential
form it is extremely rare and not necessarily of long duration ; but the
lower forms have to be considered as degradations of the highest form.
When we consider it at its best, we find, on M. Decoster's view, that the
individual only obtains it by creating the other persons as part of his own
personality. The social bond is not something which exists in its own
right, but which must be continually produced and maintained by man's
own effort.

How far it is possible resolutely to hold to the self as an " individual
conscious subject " (44) and yet avoid solipsism ; how far distinct person-
alities can exist without being either separated by an independent material
or blended in a super-personal unity : are in a sense M. Decoster's main
problems. They cannot be solved, he insists, by any theoretical phil-
osophy : but philosophy is for him fundamentally not theoretical, but
practical.

We have no space to enter into a discussion of the detailed develop-
ment of the situation whose broad outlines we have endeavoured to indi-
cate ; M. Decoster's handling is always vigorous and full of suggestiveness.

LEONARD RUSSELL.

Lineamenti di Filosofia Scettica. By GUISEPPE RENSI. 2nd edition re-
vised and enlarged. Bologna : Zanichelli, 1921. Pp. 442.

Prof. Rensi of Genoa first published this work in 1919, and that a new
and greatly enlarged edition should have been called for so soon is the
most convincing testimony to its merits. These would appear to consist
rather in the eloquence and literary skill with which the case is argued,
the abundance of philosophic learning and the wide range of illustration,
than in any special subtlety or novelty in the plea for scepticism itself.
In other words Prof. Rensi's argument is historical rather than dialectical.
He divides his book into three main sections, the first of which uses the War
as a peg for expounding the irrationality of human activities, while the
second, called il diritto, displays the irreconcilable conflicts in social and
political life. The third is called ' philosophy, ' and argues for scepticism
from the existence of error, evil and the ineradicable variety of speculative
opinion. In this last section, and indeed throughout, absolute idealism is
treated as the enemy to be trounced and exposed, particularly in the
forms given to it by Croce and Gentile, while positivism, relativism,
pragmatism and fictionism (Vaihinger and Nietzsche) are regarded as
subsidiary species of scepticism itself. This line of argument, though it
derives a special piquancy from Prof. Rensi's philosophic past, appears
to do much less than justice to the sceptical affinities of absolute idealism,
which after all is quite as much a denial of human knowledge as it is an
affirmation of absolute. Prof. Rensi recognises this in the case of

368 NEW BOOKS.

Bradley, whom he regards (p. 333) as (mainly) a sceptic furbishing up
again "the essential theses of Sextus Empiricus " ; but he usually seeks
his philosophic allies in other camps.

That he can find such allies at all becomes intelligible when we discover
what he means by scepticism. It appears from his answer to the old ob-
jection that a complete denial of knowledge destroys itself by applying
also to the denial itself (p. 350 f.). Prof. Rensi waves it aside as ' mere
verbalism,' because for him scepticism means only a denial that philosophy
is knowledge, and leaves both * facts ' and ' faith ' intact. It can re-
cognise that ' facts ' are, and denies only that they can be explained.
Thus in short, and in principle, it is "nothing but empiricism" (p.
358 n.). It is compatible also with practical certainty (p. 398), and has
nothing to fear from a line of thought which substitutes it for theoretic.
Consequently it can swallow pragmatism whole, without a twinge.

But can it also digest it ? The purely theoretic character Prof. Rensi
ascribes to scepticism renders this doubtful. No doubt, if to overcome
scepticism it is necessary to do so 'theoretically,' "on the ground on
which it arises and with arms taken solely from that ground" (p. 398),
and if there is no conceivable objection to the position that a belief may
be at once theoretically false and practically indispensable and all the
better for being false, pragmatism not only cannot overcome scepticism,
but must merge into it. For pragmatism does not offer any ' purely
theoretic ' cure for doubt. It must admit that " reason as such" does not
extricate itself from the contradictions in which it gets involved. But
then pragmatism does not draw the old sceptical inference from this
situation, but deals with it in an essentially novel manner. It points out
that there is no such thing as * reason as such,' that it is an abstraction or
fiction. It refuses to sever 'theoretic ' truth from its ' practical ' conse-
quences. It regards the union of theoretic falsity with practical value as
a monstrosity, which can hardly be tolerated as a starting-point, and can-
not stand as the conclusion, of a philosophic inquiry. In short it challenges
the finality of the distinction between theory and practice, and the irrele-
vance of practical value to theoretic truth. And so it is entitled to hold
that the unworkableness of a belief is an argument against it. If a pro-
fessed ' sceptic ' acts as if he believed, he casts a doubt on his profession.
His disbelief falls under suspicion of being make-believe. And if he can-
not but affirm by his acts the belief he repudiates in words, he refutes his
scepticism in a far more final and conclusive manner than by any trick
of dialectics. This is not to say, however, that all scepticism is impos-
sible. It implies only that, to be tenable, scepticism must become
practical and develop also a mode of living,

F. 0. S. SCHILLER.

The Psychology of Society. By MORRIS GINSBERG, M.A., Lecturer in
Philosophy, University College, London. London : Methuen & Co.,
Ltd., 1921. Pp. xvi, 174. 5s.

This book is presumably intended as a general introduction and guide for
those who want to know what Social Psychology is about, the sort of
things that are being discussed and the different views that are being
maintained within that branch of knowledge. As such, it fulfils its pur-
pose admirably. Mr. Ginsberg's style is always perfectly lucid, his com-
ments and criticisms are always shrewd and to the point, he has a wide
knowledge of recent literature on the subject, and he has something to tell
us about most of the important questions that have been raised and the
views that have been put forward. There are discussions on the nature

NEW BOOKS. 369

and functions of Instinct, on the place of Reason and Will in social life,
on the idea of a group-mind, on the General Will, on the nature of com-
munity, on the psychology of the crowd, on organisation and democracy,
and several other kindred questions.

The greater part of the book is critical. Mr. Ginsberg is a very cautious
and conservative thinker and very slow to commit himself to any positive
conclusion. When he does, it is generally to some well-tested view which
can claim weighty support. Thus he definitely ranges himself on the side
of those who, like Prof. Hobhouse, look to the individual personality
rather than to the organised society as the fundamental fact in moral and
social questions. He definitely rejects any idea of a group-mind, — his
criticisms of the obscurities and confusions of Dr. McDougall's position
on this question are particularly good, — and he refuses to accept any such
notion of a General Will as that put forward by Dr. Bosanquet and other
Idealists. He is also in reaction against the modern anti-intellectualist
tendencies in Psychology, and brings against them the well-founded re-
proach that they are founded on an entirely inadequate idea of what
reason and the intellect are and on * ' a false separation between reason or
rational will and impulse ". His summary of the objections to Dr.
McDougall's view of the role of the instincts is clear and forcible. So,
too, is his criticism of Mr. Trotter and his idea of the herd-instinct. He
points out very clearly the dangerous tendency of both these writers to
over-simplification in their attempts to reduce a number of complex facts
to some one simple process, attempts which invariably end in leaving out
just those features in the situation that we most want to explain. He
complains, equally justifiably, of the tendency of such writers to regard
the instincts as a number of independent entities, and " to look at the
organism as a whole as a kind of aggregate of them ". In fact, on almost
every subject that he touches, he has something shrewd and pertinent
to say.

Yet even in his criticisms he leaves us too often with a sense of incom-
pleteness. We feel that there is a lot more to be said, and that he often
leaves off just as he was getting to the real fundamental point. We get
the impression rather of a series of occasional reflexions than of a systematic
treatment of the subject. No doubt this arises in part from the task that
he has set himself of dealing with so many different points in such a brief
space. But it is particularly unfortunate when he comes to deal with Dr.
Bosanquet's view of the General Will. His criticisms here are fair as far
as they go. But Dr. Bosanquet would probably answer that they had
never faced the real fundamental points at issue. A view which rests so
much on such a deeply-laid metaphysical foundation cannot be thus lightly
disposed of in a few pages.

The general criticisms that might be made on the book are, firstly, that
it shows a certain lack of originality, secondly, that it is somewhat discon-
nected, and, finally, that it gives us very little but negative results. These
are really, perhaps, criticisms rather of the present state of our knowledge
in these matters than of the author individually. It is true that hardly
any positive results have yet been attained in Social Psychology, except
those which are plainly false or inadequate. It is true, also, that no one
has yet found a single guiding thread through the complicated maze of
social phenomena. But it is a question whether there is not a certain
obligation on anyone who writes a book on the subject to make some at-
tempt to advance the study to some degree and to give us some new know-
ledge. Mr. Ginsberg's book gives a great deal of information to those who
wish to know how far we have got. But it is not likely to take us any
further.

G. C. FIELD.
24

370 NEW BOOKS.

The Psycho- Analytical Study of the Family. By J. C. FLUGEL, B.A.
The International Psycho-Analytical Press. Pp. x + 259. Price
10s. 6d. net.

Mr. Fliigel has written a book which not only well sustains the standard
set by the earlier volumes of this series but also fills a distinct gap in
psychological literature.

Many writers of the psycho-analytic school have dealt with different
aspects of the relations between parents and children and some of these
are, of course, at the very root of psycho-analytic doctrine. But so far
as the present reviewer is aware this is the first serious attempt to deal
comprehensively with the whole subject. It is written primarily for
professional psychologists and advanced students to whom it will un-
questionably prove of great value.

But in view of the very great importance of the subject and the rarity
of good books dealing with it one rather wishes that Mr. Fltigel had been
able to see his way to tempering the wind for the benefit of the general
reader. Ordinary people, unversed in psychology, would gieatly benefit
from a knowledge of the psychological forces at work within the family.
They will scarcely be able to profit from Mr. Fliigel's book, however, for
it presupposes a knowledge of psycho-analytic doctrine and a familiarity
with psycho-analytic concepts which few people possess. To describe
the natural revolt of the child against parental authority as ' hatred '
and the early deviations of potential sex impulses upon the nearest ob-
jects as ' incest tendencies ', is psychologically unimpeachable but is cer-
tain to arouse the opposition of the laity. But it is notoriously difficult
to write a book which is both technically accurate and easily assimilated
by the public and this criticism is only prompted by regret that so valu-
able a work should be limited to a specialised public.

Perhaps the special merit of the work is the way in which the author
shows how the psychological factors which operate in early childhood
exert a profound influence on the child's subsequent development in every
direction. This is seldom properly realised and, even where it is, parents
do not possess the technical knowledge which would enable them to
understand the 'sense' in which various circumstances produce their
effect. Family life constitutes a replica in miniature of the social
environment into which the child must ultimately enter after adolescence.
Love and jealousy, dependence and emulation, authority, self-assertion,
and pride are all represented on a scale which though small to the
adult is full-sized to the child. And it is on the reactions which be-
came habitual in the early years of family life that the type of behaviour
in similar situations will afterwards depend.

Mr. Fliigel's application of early influences to the religious and social
reactions of the adult is of particular interest and seems to show how
easily the whole of our national outlook on these questions could be trans-
formed by a single generation of intelligent upbringing. This same pro-
cess would probably remove one of the chief predisposing causes of
neuroses. But the millennium will scarcely come yet; even the most
enlightened and sagacious parent would find it difficult to steer an even
course among the manifold dangers which Mr. Fliigel unfolds, and much
remains to be done before the best-intentioned persons can be sure of not
Handicapping their children by unwitting indiscretions of one kind or
another. Probably it will never prove either possible or desirable to
reduce the treatment of children to an exact science : it is more likely
that the desired improvement will be brought about by a gradual eradi-
cation of complexes from the minds of successive generations, so that each

NEW BOOKS. 371

deals with the next more naturally and less at the dictation of parentally
inspired prejudices.

But whether this be so or not there can be no doubt that Mr. Fliigel's
book will be counted as a foundation stone of the steadily consolidating
science of those family relationships which are at the root of social life.

W. WHATELY SMITH.

The Esthetic Attitude. By HERBERT S. LANGFELD. New York : Har-
court, Brace & Howe, 1920. Pp. 287.

This work is mainly a psychological discussion as to what constitutes tho
essential nature of the aesthetic attitude. The objective aspect of the
problem, however, is constantly dealt with in the numerous references to
objects of art, especially pictures, of which there are seventy prints, well
chosen, and most of them excellent reproductions.

The main differentiating characteristic of this work is that it explicitly
aims at the development of aesthetic appreciation in the reader. Yet
this is sought not by means of suggestion and the expression of admira-
tion, which is one means of aesthetic education, but by an attempt to
make clear how the aesthetic attitude is produced, and what are the marks
of a pseudo-aesthetic attitude.

Whatever views one may hold as to the effect, on the enjoyment of
beauty, of psychologising upon one's attitude towards it, one may wel-
come an attempt along the lines indicated. For it is a problem on which
we need the fullest information and discussion. Some hold that in turn-
ing attention inward on the mental process involved in the enjoyment of
beauty, we are destroying our capacity for that enjoyment. Certainly at
the moment of psychol >gising we are not admiring and enjoying the
beautiful to the full. But we must consider the question in its widest
aspect. Does an interest in psychological aesthetic problems on the whole
lessen our enjoyment of beauty ? We know that the literary scholar be-
comes engrossed in matters of historical and biographical facts which
divert his attention for the moment from the purely aesthetic appreciation
of a poet's creative work, but we also know that, taken as a whole, the
literary scholar enjoys a much wider aesthetic appreciation than the un-
taught ; and indeed the interest in facts of literary history in their re-
lations to, say, the poem in question, sometimes approximates to an
element in a unified aesthetic attitude towards the poem.

In a similar way can we not say that Wordsworth's interest in the sub-
jective aspect of his appreciation of the beautiful in nature is sometimes
so closely connected with that appreciation of nature as to enrich it rather
than to detract from it ?

In both the cases, of course, the value (other than its aesthetic value)
of the intellectual interest may well justify its cultivation, though to rely
on this alone would be quite different from claiming that by psychologis-
ing we can enhance aesthetic enjoyment. But even admitting that mo-
mentarily any such psychologising is inconsistent with the purely
aesthetic attitude or the attitude of literary criticism, the right line of
argument seems to be that in the long run such an added interest will
result in a wider cultivation of aesthetic enjoyment and the adding to the
variety and so the permanence and predominance of aesthetic interests,
apart from the possibility of its influence in the selection of objects for
aesthetic appreciation and on the development of art.

It might have led to a more original contribution to aesthetics if Dr.
Langfeld had developed this aspect of the subject more fully throughout

372 NEW BOOKS.

his book. He is largely content, however, to give a general survey of
some leading psychological doctrines as to aesthetic appreciation and to
discuss such characteristics or supposed characteristics of the aesthetic
attitude as the following : detachment and isolation, the absence of utility
and purpose, stimulation combined with repose, the feeling of unreality,
psychological distance.

Still more fully is discussed the doctrine of empathy. And here, while
Dr. Langfeld explictly guards against the assertion that actual sensations
must be experienced in the empathic interpretation of laws, of move-
ments in a picture, etc. , his expositions here and elsewhere seem to stress
unduly the influence of movement in mental process and to approach
something like a behaviourist view that mind can be interpreted in terms
of motor reaction. This tendency appears even in the discussion of ' ' At-
tention as a Unifying Process," when, for example, he writes: "The
attention to different musical compositions involves very different co-
ordinations of emphatic responses ; but since, normally, the very same
muscle groups are employed, it is impossible to listen to two pieces of
music simultaneously ".

A good deal of recent experimental material very relevant to some of
the problems discussed is ignored by Dr. Langfeld. The book, however,
is written in a very clear style ; fallacies are not at any time concealed by
obscure expression as is sometimes the case. The work will serve as a
useful introduction more especially to the study of the point of contact
between psychological and pictorial art. Perhaps the most useful part of
the book is the discussion on Unity (under Unity and Imagination and
Illustration of Unity from the Fine Arts) in which Dr. Langfeld allows
due recognition to the significance of the nature of attention in aesthetic
appreciation.

C. W. VALENTINE.

The Elements of Social Justice. By L. T. HOBHOUSE. London : George
Allen & Unwin, Ltd., 1922. Pp. 206.

Thirty years ago it looked as though ' Natural Rights ' were coming to
be regarded as having outlived their usefulness and were to sink into
obscurity. Criticism was directed against them by writers as different
as Huxley and Ritchie ; and, though the critics may not have agreed
with each other, they were at one in pointing out that some of these
Rights were inconsistent, when pressed, with others, and that there
were dangers in using so uncertain a guide as the conception of Rights
appeared to be. The defenders of Natural Rights were reduced to arguing
that the formula ought to be retained in default of something better. It
is true that philosophers never gave up using the expression : but, as
Prof. Hobhouse points out in this volume, they would have been more
consistent if they had done so. Natural rights seemed to be employed by
them either as a somewhat ambiguous substitute for political ideals, or as
guiding conceptions which came in whenever the ideas of social good or
human progress were too wide to give any help. Partly the term was
retained as a concession to ordinary language. Aristotelians like Green
and Ritchie would have felt uncomfortable if they had seemed to suggest
that expressions which had inspired enthusiasm and had promoted
progress could be laid on one side as though they had entirely lost
their meaning. And it is impossible not to feel grateful to a writer like
Prof. Hobhouse, whether he call himself an Aristotelian or not, who is
willing to assume that such words as rights, liberty, or equality must be
prepared to yield a useful meaning if they are carefully analysed, and to

NEW BOOKS. 373

take the trouble to examine them seriously in order to separate the valu-
able elements which, on the lowest estimate, they must contain. In part
this book is to be regarded as applying principles which the author has
already explained in The Rational Good. The several essays contained in
it can no doubt be understood by themselves, as each of them endeavours
to sift the meaning of some one conception which is in current use. But
these examinations are conducted on a common principle. The advertise-
ment to the present volume describes its object } rather strangely, as being
"to show that social and political institutions are not ends in them-
selves ". It is true that the first sentence of the book asserts this. But
Prof. Hobhouse does not appear to prove this here : nor is he obliged to
do so, for he has advanced arguments in support of that thesis before.
But it does no doubt amount to an additional proof if it is shown that his
theory of social good enables him to give an intelligible meaning to the
conceptions which he discusses and to extract full value from them.
It would be out of place to examine here the principles which are ex-
plained in The Rational Good. Those who do not know that work are
provided by the author with a convenient summary in the first chapter
of this volume. There follow discussions of rights and duties, liberty,
justice and equality, the payment of service, property and economic
organisation, social and personal factors in wealth, industrial organisation,
and democracy. All of these are so carefully and patiently conducted,
with so full a regard for all considerations which might be advanced, that
it would require an amount of space equal to that occupied by the discus-
sions themselves to make any adequate remarks on them. In two respects
only does Prof. Hobhouse seem at times to lose his judicial attitude. He
is apt to be impatient of the idealist philosophers, and he occasionally
shows affinity for that belief in the wrongness of his country's actions
which, while it may place the Englishman who adopts it on a moral and
political level far above that occupied by his fellow-countryman who be-
lieves that his country is always right, is ultimately not much more
worthy of a philosopher. Those who are able to accept Prof. Hobhouse's
social principles will find their attitude strengthened in this volume : and
those who have doubts will at least feel that he can give an account of the
ideas which he discusses such as can win their sympathy, and that he
does not avoid difficulties by a phrase or an evasion.

P. V. M. BBNECKB.

Bemerkungen ftber den Platonischen Dialog Parmenides. By HABALD
HOFFDING. (Bibliothek der Philosophie : 21 Band.) Berlin: L.
Simion, 1921. Pp. 56.

A pamphlet by so distinguished an author as the veteran HofFding is al-
ways a welcome addition to philosophical literature. But I cannot see
that the present brochure really throws any new light on its subject. The
view is expressed that the structure of the Parmenides is so inartistic and
the sophistry of some of the reasoning so gross that it is fair to conjecture
that we are dealing with papers never intended for circulation but given
to the world posthumously by the unwise admiration of disciples. I am
afraid that this judgment means that Hoffding, like many writers on Plato,
inhibits his sense of humour when he opens that philosopher's works.
Failure to recognise the presence of a peculiar mischievous humour has
hindered the understanding of a great deal of Plato ; it makes the Par-
menides wholly unintelligible. Yet there is really no great mystery about
the dialogue, and Plato himself has given us the key to it by the plain
intimation that it is to be taken as an imitation of the method of Zeno

374 NEW BOOKS.

with the opponents of Parmenides, a method which he is careful to de-
scribe for us. Plato takes a number of objections to the doctrine of the
" participation " of sensible things in iidrj and states them with great force.
The objections are not his own, and there is not the slightest reason to
assume, as Hoffding does, that he thought them really dangerous. In
point of fact, they are all fallacious, but it is not Plato's game to tell us
so. He leaves them where they are and turns on the disciples of the
Eleatics from whom the objections come. "Socrates' theory leads to
difficulties ? " he says. " Well, take your own doctrine of the One, let it
be subjected to a dialectic like your own, and see how you like its con-
sequences." When one has once grasped the point that the whole thing
is a subtle jest, a turning of the Megarian dialectic on the men of Megara,
one is in a position to appreciate the structure of the dialogue for the
masterpiece of art it really ie. Hoffding misses the fun, asks no questions
about the address of the satire and so falls into the mistake of assuming
both that Plato was perplexed by the paralogisms of the first part and was
unaware that there is a great deal of " sophistry " in the second. He even
makes the singular mistake of saying that the antithesis One — Many is
badly chosen for Plato's purposes and that he would have done better to
deal with that of Same — Other, making here a curious error of fact. He
quotes Farm. 139d for the view that the (frvats of the One is identical with
that of the Same. But he has omitted an oi>x- Plato expressly says
that the two things are not the same and gives an unanswerable reason for
the distinction, viz., that what is the " same as 2 " is not 1 but 2.

A. E. TAYLOR.

Die Differentizlle Psychologic in ihren methodischen Grundlagen. Von
WILLIAM STERN. Dritte Auflage. Leipzig : J. A. Barth, 1921.
S. x + 546. M. 63 ; geb. M. 72.

This well-known work was first published in 1911. It was a comprehen-
sive review of the researches which had been carried out upon the nature,
variety, and significance of individual differences, and it contained an
original contribution to its problems which was of great importance. For
a considerable time now the volume has been out of print, and there was
every justification for its republication. An attempt has been made to
bring it up to date, by adding a survey of the development of the psycho-
logical study of individual differences since 1911, and a bibliography of
recent work.

Both the survey and the bibliography might have been improved. The
former, interesting as it is, is a rather summary and off-hand piece of
work. It consists of three short sections, the first dealing with the
significance of recent studies of individual differences from the point of
view of general theoretical psychology, the second discussing some of the
practical applications of psychological tests, and the third giving an ac-
count of developments in the methodology of the subject. In each section
references are made to the most outstanding pieces of research in the field
surveyed. A mere reference to large numbers of books and papers is not,
however, of great value. A more reasoned discussion, and a real attempt
at an appraisement of the works referred to should have been attempted.

The bibliography is fairly comprehensive, for it contains the titles of
over 430 books and papers which have been published since 1911. Even
so it is by no means complete. To take a single illustration, the section
on statistics contains no reference to the important work of Prof. G. H.
Thompson. And a glance at many other sections shows similar omissions

NEW BOOKS. 375

in regard to other branches of research. The point is, not that such a list
should be complete, for that is practically impossible in a subject in which
publications appear with such bewildering speed as is the case, for instance,
with the modern investigations of "mental tests," but that the biblio-
graphy should be selective, and that short descriptive and critical notes
should be added.

However Die Differentielle Psychologie remains a standard work, and
its reappearance will, no doubt, be heartily welcomed. Though the addi-
tions are rather scanty, they may yet help to set new investigators at
work along fruitful lines of enquiry.

F. C. B.

La Filosofia di Giorgio Berkeley (Metafisica e Gnoseologia). By ADOLFO
LEVI. Turin, Bocca Bros., 1922. Pp. 102.

Mr. Levi has brought to his study of Berkeley the same wealth of know-
ledge of the literature of the whole subject which distinguishes his work
on Plato. He rightly comments on the singular error of the average
historian of philosophy who confines his attention to Berkeley's juvenile
writings and contrives to fit them into his preconceived scheme as a mere
half-way house between Locke and Hume. Mr. Levi's own work aims at
showing the substantial " autonomy " of Berkeley's philosophical thought
and tracing the steady and consistent line of development which it follows
from the Common-Place Book right on to Siris. On the main point that
Berkeley is not a " continuator of Locke," the best recent British and
American critics, would be pretty much in accord with Mr. Levi, and his
conclusion could be further reinforced by the considerations recently ad-
duced from America which go to show that Berkeley's criticism of Locke
is mainly motived by the acceptance of Locke's doctrines by his own real
enemies, the "minute philosophers," who treat the perceived world as
phenomenal of an unperceived real world of Newtonian "corpuscles"
and run the risk of making this Newtonian " matter" at least co-
eternal with God. It is naturally welcome to Berkeley's countrymen
to receive so admirable a study of him from Italy. If it is not presumptu-
ous, I should like to express the wish that Mr. Levi would lay us under
a further obligation by producing an equally independent study of Locke
himself, one of the most generally misunderstood of philosophers.

A. E. T.

Received also : —

S. Dasgupta, A History of Indian Phiiotophy, Vol. J., Cambridge Univer-
sity Press, 1922, pp. xvi, 528.

L. LeVy-Bruhl, La Mentalite Primitive, Paris, F. Alcan, 1922, pp. iii,
537.

H. B. Smith, Foundation* of Formal Lojic, Philadelphia, University of
Pennsylvania Press, 1922, pp. 56.

Sir C. Walston, Harmonium and GYn.svucms Evolution, London, J. Murray,
1922, pp'. xvi, 463.

M. Engel, Gedauhm uber das Denken (Bibliothek der Philosophic, ed. by
L. Stein, 22 Band), Berlin, L. Simion Nf., 1922, pp. 73.

L. Lavelle, La Dialerti/ue du Monde Sensible, Strasbourg, Palais de
1'Universite, 1921, pp. xlv, 228.

376 NEW BOOKS.

L. Lavelle, La Perception Visuelle de la Profondeur, Strasbourg, Palais de
I'Universite, 1921, pp. 72.

R. Berthelot, Un Romantisme Utilitaire, fitude sur le Mouvement Pragma-
tiste, Vol. III., Le Pragmatisme Religieux chez W. James et chez
les Catholique* Modernistes, Paris, F. Alcan, 1922, pp. 428.

H. Delacroix, La Religion et la Foi, Paris, F. Alcan, 1922, pp. xii, 462.

B. Croce, Esthetic, trans, by D. Ainslie, 2nd Edition, London, Macmillan

& Co. Ltd., 1922, pp. xxx, 503.
A. Einstein, Sidelights on Relativity, trans, by G. B. Jeffrey and W.

Perrett, London, Methuen & Co. Ltd., 1922, pp. 56.
J. Becquerel, Le Principe de Relativite et la The'orie de la Gravitation,

Paris, Gauthier-Villars et Cie, 1922, pp. ix, 342.

F. Michaud, Rayonnement et Gravitation, Paris, Gauthier-Villars et Cie,

1922, pp. 61.
L. Bloch, Le Prtncipe de la Relativite et la The'orie d' Einstein, Paris,

Gauthier-Villars et Cie, 1922, pp. 42.
General Chapel, E 'Mer-filectricite Relativisme, Paris, Gauthier-Villars et

Cie, 1922, pp. 40.
W. H. V. Reade, A Criticism of Einstein and his Problem, Oxford, B.

Blackwell, 1922, pp. 126.
R. B. Appleton, The Elements of Greek Philosophy from Thales to Aristotle,

London, Methueu and Co. Ltd., 1922, pp. xiv, 170.
E. Dupreel, La Legende Soaatique et les Sources de Platan, Brussels, R.

Sand, 1922, pp. 450.

C. Lalo, Aristote (Les Philosophes), Paris, Delaplane, pp. 160.

E. Guson, La Philosophic au Moyen Age, 2 vols., Paris, Payot et Cie,

1922, pp. 160, 159.
M. de Wulf, Philosophy and Civilization in the Middle' Ages, Princeton

University Press, 1922, pp. x, 313.

K. Vorlander, Immanuel Kants Leben, Leipzig, F. Meiner, pp. xi, 223.
M. Heynacher, Goethes Philosophic aus seinen Werken, 2nd Edition,

Leipzig, F. Meiner, pp. cxxxi, 319.

G. Gurwitsch, Kant und Fichte als Rousseau-Interpreten, Off-print from

"Kant-Studien," XXVII., 1922, pp. 26.
J. G. Fichte, Einige Vorlesungen iiber die Bestimmung des Gelehrten,

2nd enlarged Edition, Leipzig, F. Meiner, 1922, pp. 61.
G. Gurwitsch, Die Einheit der Fichteschen Philosophic, Berlin, A. Col-

lignon, 1922, pp. 38.
J. McT. E. McTaggart, Studies in the Hegelian Dialectic, Second Edition,

Cambridge University Press, 1922, pp. xvi, 255.

F. Duine, La Mennais, Paris, Gamier Freres, 1922, pp. iii, 389.

R. Ardigo, Scritti Vari, collected and arranged by G. Marchesini, Florence,

F. Le Monnier, pp. 301.
A. A. Brill, Fundamental Conceptions of Psycho-analysis, London, G.

Allen & Unwin Ltd., 1922, pp. vii, 344.
W. Brown, Suggestion and Mental Analysis, London University Press

Ltd., 1922, pp. 165.
V. M. Firth, The Machinery of the Mind, London, G. Allen & Unwin Ltd.,

1922, pp. 95.
L. Vivante, Delia Intelligenza nell' Espressione, Rome, P. Maglioue & C.

Strini, 1922, pp. ix, 229.
H. Macnaghten, Emile Coue, The Man and His Work, London, Methuen

& Co. Ltd., pp. 52.

G. Belot, Etudes de Morale Positive, 2 vols., 2nd Edition, Paris, F. Alcan,

1921, pp. xix, 291 ; 288.

M. G. Rigg, Tneories of the Obligation of Citizen to State, Philadelphia,
University of Pennsylvania, 1921, pp. 75.

NEW BOOKS. 377

R. E. Roper, The Individual and the Community, London, G. Allen &

Unwin Ltd., 1922, pp. 224.

G. Davy, La Foi Jure'e, Paris, F. Alcan, 1922, pp. 379.
J. Dewey, Human Nature and Conduct, London, G. Allen & Unwin

Ltd., 1922, pp. vii, 336.

C. Lalo, L'Art et la Morale, Paris, F. Alcan, 1922, pp. 184.
F. Brentano, Vom Ursprung Sittlich r Erkenntnis, 2nd Edition, ed. by

O. Kraus, Leipzig, F. Meiner, 1922, pp. xiv, 108.
F. Brentano, Die Lehre J*su und ihre bleibende Bedeutung, ed. by A.

Kastil, Leipzig, F. Meiner, 1922, pp. xviii, 149.
J. R. Solly, Free Will and Determinism, London, Constable & Co. Ltd.,

1922, pp. 27.
F. C. Prescott, The Poetic Mind, New York, The Macmillan Co., 1922, pp.

xx, 308.
The Labour Movement and the Hospital Crisis, London, The Trades

Union Congress and the Labour Party, pp. 20.
A. Watkins, Early British Trackways, Moats, Mounds, Camps, and Sites,

Hereford, The Watkins Meter Co., 1922, pp. 40.

VIII.— PHILOSOPHICAL PERIODICALS.

BRITISH JOURNAL OF PSYCHOLOGY. Vol. xii., Part i. June, 1921,
In " Instinctive Behaviour and Enjoyment" C. Lloyd Morgan discusses
the nature of instinctive actions and their dependence on heredity. The
term instinctive is used analytically as to that element of a complex pro-
cess which is unlearnt. The acquisition of psychical data in the process
of learning is only "intelligent" when such acquisition involves some
seeking and choosing. The mere "provision and psychical registration
of data through unlearnt behaviour does not itself imply intelligent pro-
cesses." The instinctive enjoyment which is correlated with instinctive
behaviour " is accompaniment and accompaniment only, without guiding
efficacy, though it provides the data for conscious guidance in the life of
fuller and further development".

In discussing the physiological correlate of instinctive process the
author surmises that "intelligent integration may have its unlearnt form
dependent on the inherited synaptic pattern in the cortex". In a con-
cluding dialogue Lloyd Morgan foreshadows his forthcoming restatement
of some of Spinoza's doctrines, and in particular refers to one corollary of
Spinoza's view that there is no interaction between instinctive behaviour
as a mode within the attribute of "extension," and instinctive enjoy-
ment, as a mode within the attribute of "thought" or of consciousness.

F. Aveling and H. L. Hargreaves, in "Suggestibility with and with-
out Prestige in Children," give an account of experiments in two schools
with both boys and girls. The tests included the suggestion of hand
rigidity, of hand levitation, and of sense of warmth, of length of lines
and of incorrect statements about pictures seen. The following conclusions
were reached : In cases of suggestion, under conditions in which the in-
fluence of personal prestige was prominent, a negative response owing to
the development of centra-suggestion is frequent. Consequently subjects
tend to be classified into two sharply divided groups, the suggestible and
the non-suggestible (or contra-suggestible). In cases of impersonal sug-
gestion centra-suggestibility was not so frequently aroused, and the dis-
tribution was approximately normal, the majority of the subjects being
moderately suggestible. There was evidence which pointed to a general
factor of Suggestibility complicated by group factors. General suggesti-
bility was greatly modified by the specific conditions and elements of the
whole situation, which vary in individual cases according to experience
of it and knowledge about it. There was no ascertained tendency for
suggestibility to go with other "general " factors such as General Intel-
ligence, Perseveration, Oscillation, or Motor Dexterity. There was a
small correlation between it and Common Sense regarded as consisting
largely of affective and conative elements; but none if Common Sense
was considered as a purely cognitive quality. B. Muscio in an article
"Is a Fatigue Test possible?" criticises the current view of fatigue as
"reduced capacity for work ". The term work is too narrow (activity is
suggested as a substitute), yet is not specific enough ; does it mean
capacity for the same kind of work or for all work ? Further it takes no-

PHILOSOPHICAL PEEIODICALS. 37$

account^of complication factors such as varying incentives to work, the
effect of irrelevant distractions, etc. The writer suggests the abolition
of the word fatigue from scientific discussion and the definition of such
problems in the form of the effect of different kinds and amounts of work
(activity) on mental and physiological functions.

Other articles are as follows : —

Rodrigo Lavin, " A Preliminary Study of the Reproduction of Hand
Movements ".

Edward Bullough, "Recent Work in Experimental ^Esthetics ".

Q. Udny Yule, " Critical Notice of William Brown and Godfrey H.
Thomson's * The Essentials of Mental Measurement ' ".

JOURNAL OP PHILOSOPHY, xix., 3. C. H. Toll. ' On the Method of
Metaphysics.' [All metaphysics start from the antithesis of the given
and the real. The former should have nothing hypothetical about it,,
but in approaching the latter hypotheses must be used, and it must not
be assumed that only one of these will be tenable. It is held also that
" some actual interpreting of the data is itself part of the data ". Finally
metaphysics should "give some recognition to the non-logical features by
which some hypotheses acquire a weighted value for us " and are selected
on moral or aesthetic grounds.] B. H. Bode. ' Critical Realism.' [Argues
that the authors of the book reviewed are not really agreed and concludes
that "Critical Realism provides no content for the notion of mental
states ; which is perhaps the reason why it is not scandalised by the sug-
gestion of unconscious mental states. If we stick consistently to the
doctrine that the given consists of essences, there can be no room for
existences of any sort, and both external objects and mental states go by
the board."] xix., 4. K. Dunlap. 'The Identity of Instinct and
Habit.' [Points out that "the instincts are teleological groupings of
activities, not psychological groupings," and are based on the purposes of
the classifier and not on those of the reacting animal. In the end there
is "no way of distinguishing usefully between instinct and habit. All re-
actions are definite responses to definite stimulus patterns, and the exact
character of the response is determined in every case by the inherited
constitution of the organism and the stimulus pattern. All reactions are
instinctive and all are acquired. If we consider instinct, we find it to be
the form and method of habit-formation : if we consider habit we find it
to be the way in which instinct exhibits itself."] J. R. Qeiger. ' Must
we give up Instincts in Psychology ?' [Maintains that so long as "the
primary condition of significant activity is internal rather than external,"
the term ( instinct' is justified.] W. S. Hunter. 'The Modification of
Instinct.' [Argues that " associations formed prior to the appearance of
an instinct " may modify it when it appears, without its being therefore
nothing but a habit.] xix., 5. S. C. Pepper. ' A Suggestion Regard-
ing Esthetics.' [Three approaches to aesthetics have been tried, the
critical, the philosophical, the psychological ; none has been a success.
But it is not necessary that the foundations of a science must be firm
before it gets to work. All a science needs to start with is a working,
unit, i.e., a working hypothesis. The 'liking a thing for itself as op-
posed to valuing it as a means to something else may suffice to get
aesthetics going.] W. T. Bush. '^Esthetic Values and their Interpre-
tation.' [Refuses to separate beauty and use as sharply as the previous
paper, and suggests that beauty refers to present, use to future, value.]
A. L. Hammond. 'Immediate Inference and the Distribution of
Terms.' [Denies that the exceptive proposition is adequately rendered
by All non-S is P, and the exclusive by All P is S.]

IX.— NOTES.
M. BLONDEL'S "L'ACTION".

To the Editor of "MiND".

DEAR SIR,

I do not think Prof. Wildon Carr in his review of the Italian
Translation of M. Blondel's L' Action can have seen a letter of M. Blondel
to the March, 1921, number of La Nouvelle Journee, entitled Un Rapt.
Prof. Wildon Carr says of the Italian Translation, that it was made
"against the author's wish, though not, we understand, actually in defiance
of his authority". M. Blondel in his letter calls the translation " un
rapt/' and after a vigorous protest — "il a suffi de 1'audace de deux
etrangers pour que, en depit des precautions les plus reflechies et contre
toute vraisemblance, un rapt soit commis," — he quotes his letter to the
Editor and Translator of L' Action; "Je proteste absolument contre
1'abus materiel et moral qui est fait de mon ceuvre et de mon nom. Au
mepris de mes droits les plus certains et de mes intentions les plus
•av^rees, vous usurpez une 'propriete litteraire,' qui ne vous appartient &
aucun titre."

Prof. Wildon Carr also writes that L' Action "unfortunately aroused
such violent animosity in Catholic circles that the author withdrew it, and
so effectually that copies are now excessively rare (the Bodleian is believed
to be the only public library to possess one) ". M. Blondel explicitly
denies this : II est dit que j'ai retire mon livre du commerce. Non : les 750
exemplaires du tirage ont ete rapidement epuises, rien de plus. Le
traducteur donne en outre a entendre que c'est la crainte des censures qui
-a emp&che une rendition. Non : c'est mon mecontement de moi-meme. . . .
Copies of L' Action are rare, as the quotation given explains, but any
reader at Dr. Williams' Library, for instance, could obtain one.

Lastly, I think it should be pointed out that M. Blondel would not
allow of the association of his name with those of Bergson, Croce and
Gentile. His aims are quite different. He has emphasised the funda-
mental differences between Bergson and himself, between Pragmatism
And L' Action, and derives his inspiration from Leibniz and O114-Laprune.

M. C. D'ARCY.

MR. D'ARCY is entirely right and I must express my sincere regret for the
error into which I was led by an Italian friend of the translator at the
time of the publication of the translation last summer.

The association of M. Blondel's name with Bergson, Croce, and Gentile
was not intended to convey the idea that their aims were identical. My
reference was not personal at all but meant only to indicate a tendency of
•doctrines in themselves totally diverse.

H. WILDON CARR.

NOTES. 381

INTUITION OF REALITY.

Sra,

Mr. Leo Stein relates in the April number of MIND an experi-
ence which he believes to be similar to my own experience of an ineradi-
cable certainty of the immortality, pre-existence and bisexuality of the Self.
I am afraid his vision which gave him the explanation of rest and motion,
was of a totally different kind. It did not refer to his own innermost
Self, and did not give him a permanent absolute conviction, with many
practical consequences in everyday life, as was the case with me. The
fact that he could attempt later to explain it away by the very unconvinc-
ing image of a balloon which may burst and disappear, proves clearly that
he did not reach absolute reality. I quite agree with him that if he had
the impression that he was whatever he thought, this was not sound
knowledge. I know myself to be myself, and different from everybody
else. Such a knowledge remains unshaken for ever, and cannot be ex-
plained away as an illusion. I trust that some readers of MIND have ex-
perienced the birth of such a conviction which cannot be shaken by any-
thing. Their testimony would confirm, but could not strengthen, my own
conviction that I am a true Being, which cannot be destroyed by Death
and has not been created by conception and birth. I remember a very
long conversation with William James on this subject in 1899 and learn
that in his published correspondence a letter from him to Miss Frances
R. Morse of 17th September, 1899, is printed in which he writes with
reference to this meeting at Bad Nauheim : —

' ' He takes in dead seriousness what most people admit, but only half
believe, viz., that we are Souls, that souls are immortal and agents of the
world's destinies, and that the chief concern of a Soul is to get ahead by
the help of other souls with whom it can establish confidential relations
. . . abstractly his scheme is divine, but there is something on which I
can't yet lay my defining finger that makes one feel that there is ecvme
need of the corrective and critical and arresting judgment in his manner
of carrying it out. These Slavs seem to be the great radical livers-out
of their theories."

William James was right in thinking that there was something wrong
in my way of carrying out the consequences of my conviction. I believed
that everybody can go through the same experience and I was wrong.
Since then I have learnt that such an experience is rare and that it cannot
be produced by the influence of one man on another. It must come un-
sought and not by some kind of suggestion, if it is to leave lasting results.

Yours sincerely,
W. LUTOSLAWSKI.

SIR HENRY JONES, C.H., LL.D., D.LITT., F.B.A., 1852-1922.

WITH the death of Sir Henry Jones, on 4th February, 1922, philosophy
loses one of the band of brilliant men who studied philosophy under
Caird in Glasgow. Sir Henry Jones, the son of a shoemaker, fought his
way through poverty from shoemaking to the University, with no advan-
tages but those due to an indomitable spirit, and the proud and loving
help of the village community in which he was brought up. He occupied
the Chair of Philosophy and Political Economy in Bangor, North Wales,
and the Chair of Logic in St. Andrews ; and in 1894 was appointed as
Caird's successor to the Chair of Moral Philosophy in Glasgow. His
writings include Browning as a Philosophical and Religious Teacher

382 NOTES.

(1891) ; The Philosophy of Lotze (1895) ; Social Responsibilities (1905) ;
Idealism as a Practical Creed (1909), delivered in the University of
Sydney, New South Wales ; Social Powers (1913) ; The Principles of
Citizenship (1919) ; A Faith that Enquires (1922), Gifford Lectures de-
livered in the University of Glasgow, 1920-1921. With Prof. J. H. Muir-
Lead he wrote the Life of Edward Caird (1922).

Philosophy in his hands was something vital. He drove it unceasingly
on to the practical issues of life, and brought the practical issues back to
ultimate principles of metaphysics. Plato and Aristotle, Spinoza and
Kant and Hegel, and with them, Nettleship and Green, Caird and
Wallace, were his favourite philosophers : for in them he felt a centrality
of outlook, a Tightness of spirit, which seemed to him lacking in Descartes
or Leibniz, Locke or Hume. His books show how much his thought and
his style owed to the Bible and to the great poets. His weightiest book
is his Lotze, but he did not complete the promised sequel, largely, I
believe, because he felt that the investigation would not be as valuable as
.a more direct and positive exposition of the conclusions to which a
criticism of Lotze would have led.

This attitude was due to the intensity of his feeling that a true phil-
osophy is so urgent a matter for life that you cannot afford to delay too
long over positions which have already been discovered to rest on
erroneous principles. To follow out in detail the consequences of prin-
ciples which rest on wrong assumptions is, he felt, to fritter away
energy which it is a duty to put to more fruitful uses. He taught his
students to endeavour to bring to light the hidden assumptions on which
any philosophy rests, and to concentrate on them, because they are the
important part of the philosophy. When you have learned, he insisted,
go forward and leave the mistakes behind. The task appeared to
him less tortuous and complex than it appeared to some of his men ;
where he was sure, they were groping slowly and in uncertainty ; but
the;- could not fail to be penetrated by his spirit of the seriousness of the
task undertaken by philosophy.

He was a keen fighter and a great friend. There was nothing half-
Jiearted or moderate about him. True virtue, he insisted, can let itself go,
fully and absolutely, for it is infinite and (it was a central thought) carries
its own limits within it as a part of itself. And he pointed to the life of
Christ.

This big-hearted outspoken optimism was, I think, the source of the
great parsonal influence he exerted. It was the source, too, of the some-
what mixed feelings some of his students had for him. When you felt he
was going rather rapidly to his conclusions, putting aside with a gesture
obstacles that you felt were stronger than he would allow, he would bear
down on you and the obstacle with his scorn, reducing you to silence.
And then, as if he saw you felt he was bullying, he would pull himself up
;and try to make amends by mildness.

His Gifford Lectures were completed during a last gallant struggle
against the disease which he had fought so cheerfully for many years.
He lost his much loved younger son in the war. It was given to him to
enact in his own person the tragedy that, in his younger and vigorous
days, had always seemed to him to be the most sublime expression of
Tiumanity's faith, and to be able himself, in his own tragedy, to keep his
faith undimmed. " Though He slay me, yet will I trust Him," he could
still say.

LEONARD RUSSELL.

NOTES. 383

THE LATE MISS E. E. CONSTANCE JONES.

Miss JONES rendered services of very high value and importance to
education as Lecturer in Logic at Gerton, and subsequently as mistress
of that College. She was also endeared to a large circle of friends and
pupils by her rare and admirable personal character. It would require
much space to do justice to her memory from these points of view. What
I am here especially concerned with is her published work in Philosophy.
Mtss Jones was keenly interested in all vital philosophical questions and
she has written well on Ethics and Metaphysics. Logic, however, was
her special subject, and it is only here that she would herself have made
any claim to originality. The logical topics with which she was chiefly
concerned were the import and interpretation of propositions. She did
good service in insisting on the distinction between interpretation from
the point of view of the speaker and that of the hearer. But her main
contribution, in her own view and also in mine, is to be found in her
general view of import.1 On the threshold of Logic we are confronted by
the question, What is a proposition ? and this, as Miss Jones maintained,
is identical with the question, " What is a significant assertion ? " There
is significance so far and only so far as thought is carried forward beyond
its point of departure to something in some way different from this.
Thus the verbal formula A is A is totally insignificant. On the other
hand, mere difference is not enough to give significance. In asserting a
proposition we always assert identity : to say that A is B is to say that
what we distinguish as being A, is identical with something that is B. This
cannot, of course, mean that differences as such are identical. Are we
then to say, with many logicians, that what is asserted is " identity in
difference " ? But how can this be, if the differences themselves are not
identical ? Miss Jones holds that we ought to speak of differences within
an identity rather than of identity in difference. In ordinary categorical
propositions we are dealing with a complex unity, comprehending and
connecting with each other, on the one hand, a character specifying this
complex as the subject concerning which an assertion is made, on the other
hand, a character asserted as predicate. The copula is the c >mplex unity
itself. Miss Jones further identifies the inclusive whole with "denota-
tion" and the diverse characters which it includes with "intension".
Every categorical affirmation asserts diversity of intension as included
within a denotational unity. In S is P, the denotation of S and P is the
same though S-ness and P-ness are diverse. As a general formula for
categoricals this seems fairly satisfactory, though not entirely free from
difficulty. But Miss Jones would also extend it to hypothetical and
disjunctive propositions. Though she defends this position with much
acuteness and ingenuity, it can hardly be said that her treatment of the
question is adequate. Granting that in non-categoricals as in categoricals
what is asserted is always the connexion of differences within a unity ; it
is not clear that this can be adequately described as a denotational unity,
when the meaning of the word denotation is determined merely by the
current use of it in logical text-book. Further analysis and reconstruc-
tion seem to be required. However this may be, MISS Jones was, I
think, right in insisting that some explicit formula defining the most
general conditions of significant assertion ought to be made fundamental
in works on Logic.

1Most definitely formulated in her little book A New Law of Thought
and Its Logical Bearings, which was very appreciatively reviewed by Dr.
Schiller, MIND, N.S., vol. xxi., p. 246. Cf., Symposium in Aristot. Soc.
Proceedings, 1914-1915, p. 353.

384 NOTES.

I have dwelt on this topic, because Miss Jones herself would have
wished me to do so. Her work on other subjects than Logic, though highly
competent, was expository and critical rather than constructive. In
Ethics she has given a very accurate and careful account of Sidgwick's
utilitarianism and an able defence of it against its critics.1 She showed
her interest in Metaphysics by her admirably accurate and lucid transla-
tion of Lotze's Microcosmus. I may also refer to an article on "Dr.
Ward's Refutation of Dualism " as a good sample of her power of exposi-
tion and sympathetic appreciation.2

No mere reference to her published work will do justice to the service
rendered by Miss Jones to philosophy within her own circle of friends
and colleagues. In conversation and discussion she was in a high degree
helpful and stimulating, owing to her keen and unfailing interest in
philosophical questions, her candour and straight-forward simplicity, and
her remarkable flashes of insight.

G. F. STOUT.

SOCIETAS SPINOZANA.

AN international society with this title and having its headquarters at
The Hague was founded in 1920 in order to further the study of Spinoza's
philosophy. With this object it proposes, among other things, to publish
annually a journal, to be called Chronicon Spinozanum, containing
articles, in various languages, bearing on Spinoza's teaching and life ; and
the first number of this journal is now ready. The editors are H.
Hoffding, W. Meyer, Sir F. Pollock, L. Brunschvieg and C. Gebhardt.
The journal will not be on sale to the general public, but members of the
society will receive it free of charge ; and applications for membership
are invited. Members must be approved by the Governing Body of the
society and must pay an annual subscription of 10s. Application may be
made to Mr. L. Roth, Exeter College, Oxford.

1 Proceedings of Aristot. Society, 1903-1905.

2 MIND, N.S., vol. ix.

VOL. xxxi. No. 124.] [OCTOBER, 1922.

*-&s

MIND

A QUARTERLY REVIEW

OF

PSYCHOLOGY AND PHILOSOPHY

I.— PROF. ALEXANDER'S THEORY OF SENSE
PERCEPTION.1,2

BY G. F. STOUT.
THE PKOBLEM.

THERE is a system of things and events which exist, endure,
change and interact independently of the conditions which
make them perceptible to us through sense experience. This
we may call the physical world. It contains our own bodies
and also things external to our bodies which we may call
external objects. In agreement with Mr. Alexander and also
with common sense and science, I take the existence of the
physical world for granted. We are concerned only with the
question how we know it in sense perception.

Ordinary sense perception includes much knowledge which
is due to previous perceptions, as when we say that we hear
a footstep on the stair or a horse trotting. But there is also
in all sense perception a factor that cannot be accounted for
in this way. There is a modification of the content of sense
experience which occurs independently of any reinstatement
from the past. This factor is present alike in normal per-
ception and in dreams, hallucinations and illusions. When
a drunkard seems to see pink rats, he is really aware of an
actual sense-apparition such as would be normally experienced
if there were really pink rats before his eyes.

1 Contributed to the Joint Session of the Mind Association and Aris-
totelian Society at Manchester, July 14th-16th, 1922.

2 Throughout this paper I have criticised Mr. Alexander's theory of
knowledge in an unsparing way. I feel bound, therefore, to say once for
all, that I immensely admire the ability and thoroughness with which he
has attempted to maintain what I regard as a quite untenable doctrine.
No one, I think, could have performed better the task which he has
undertaken ; and we owe him a great debt of gratitude for putting us in
an advantageous position for judging a view which must be either accepted
or rejected before further advance can be made.

25

386 a. F. STOUT:

These contents of immediate sense experience must not be
confused with our knowing about them. We recognise and
distinguish them ; we attend to them, like or dislike them,
desire their presence or absence. But they are not themselves
recognitions or distinctions, likings or dislikings or desires.

They are or may be objects for a subject but are not them-
selves subjective. We have not a right to regard them as
mental in any sense in which what is mental is contrasted
with what is material. In agreement with Alexander, I
should myself maintain that in the antithesis of matter and
mind they fall on the side of matter and not of mind.

I use the term sensum rather than sensation because
"sensation" almost inevitably suggests something dis-
tinctively mental, and may lead to confusion between know-
ing and experiencing on the one hand, and what we know
or experience on the other. It is, in fact, open to the same
objection as Berkeley's use of the wrord "idea" which gave
rise to the gravest misunderstanding of his real meaning.
Instead of sensation the term "sense-datum" has been em-
ployed by recent writers. But this also is a question-begging
word. It suggests that what we originally know in sense
perception is merely the sense apparition as immediately
experienced to the exclusion of anything beyond it. This
assumption seems to be a mere superstition, which would
make knowledge of the physical world impossible. I, there-
fore, prefer the term " sensum " which is also used by Mr.
Alexander. I prefer it because it does not prejudge the view
that though knowledge is limited by immediate experience it
is not even originally limited to immediate experience.

It is here that my disagreement with Mr. Alexander begins.
He seems to hold that sense perception is primarily confined
to sensa. His peculiar theory of sense knowledge is an at-
tempt to show how on this assumption, we can, none the
less, know by way of sense a world of physical things and
events.

ME. ALEXANDER'S GENERAL THEORY.

According to Alexander, all knowledge is the direct revela-
tion to the knowing mind of something which exists inde-
pendently of being known. This is a position which I myself
accept. I disagree only with his application of it to sensa
and images. Here we are concerned especially with sensa.
He asserts and I deny that sensa are identical with perceived
features of physical existence.

A convenient way of approaching the question is by con-
sidering the connexion of sensa with those processes in the
percipient's body without which they are not experienced.

PEOF. ALEXANDERS THEORY OF SENSE PERCEPTION. 387

It is, I take it, generally admitted that there is no variation
in the sensa without corresponding variations in the bodily
conditions, and no variation in relevant bodily conditions with-
out corresponding variations in the sensa. Factors external to
the body make no difference to the sensum, unless and so far
as they affect the sense organ, and processes in the sense
organ make no difference unless and so far as they affect the
nervous system.

Facts of this sort naturally point to the view that sensa
have no existence apart from the percipient's organism, and
that what occurs outside the nervous system makes no differ-
ence to them, except in so far as it makes a difference to this.
The sensum can no more be identical with all or any of the
external factors concerned in the production of the physio-
logical process than this process itself can be identical with
its external conditions.

This is the natural view suggested primd facie by the
facts. But Mr. Alexander thinks that the facts can be other-
wise construed, and he holds that they must be otherwise
construed if we are to give any tenable account of our know-
ledge of the physical world. His own theory may be called
the penny -in-the-slot theory. According to him, when we
perceive objects as external to our sense organs the sensum
is itself a feature of the external object, having an existence
and nature of its own, quite independent of its entrance into
our sense experience, whereby it becomes a sensum. The
physical and physiological conditions of perception simply
serve to unveil it. They put a penny in the slot and so, as it
were, remove a screen which would otherwise have hidden it
from the percipient.

In looking at a sheet of white paper, I experience a
sensum having a certain shape and colour quality. Alexander
holds that under normal conditions, this very shape and
quality, as I immediately experience them, pre-existed in the
paper before I saw it, and continue to exist when I cease to
see it. They exist in the paper whether anyone sees it or
not, and might have so existed if there had been no eyes or
brains in the world. The passage of reflected light from the
paper to the eye and the ensuing processes in the retina and
brain determine only the appearing of the sense apparition.
They in no way determine the existence or nature of that
which is thus revealed. In this example there is a continuous
train of processes constituting what may be called a bridge
between the perceived physical existence at one end and at
the other the neural occurrences which are more directly
connected with the relevant sense experience. Further, the
bridging series of events is causally initiated from the side ol

388 G. F. STOUT:

the thing perceived and not from the side of the subject.
What occurs to the percipient's brain is only a terminal effect.
But this is not what happens in ideal revivals, dreams,
illusions and hallucinations. When for instance, we look at
a grey speck on a red ground and, owing to contrast, experi-
ence a green sensum instead of a grey one, what is revealed
as a sensum is some particular green existing in a place and
at a time other than the place and time of the grey speck.
The green depends on the reflexion of light from the surface
of some independently existing thing. But the reflected
light is not propagated to the eyes of the percipient. How
then is the connexion established when the green is sensibly
revealed to him ? Mr. Alexander answers that the process
which unveils the sensum may be initiated in two ways. In
veridical perception, it is initiated from the side of the per-
ceived object. In dreams, illusions, hallucinations and also
in ideal revival, it is initiated from the side of the subject.
There is simply an inversion of what is otherwise, in all
relevant respects, the same train of events.1

Mr. Alexander does not anywhere attempt to deny that
sense apparitions come and go and vary in strict correspond-
ence with events happening in the sense organs and nervous
system just as if, not only their appearance, but their nature
and existence were inseparable from such bodily conditions.
From this point of view, therefore, all that he can be logic-
ally justified in asserting is that his own revelation theory is
a possible alternative which may also be made to fit the
facts. Instead of proceeding in this way, he presses his own
dictum upon us as that which we must accept to the ex-
clusion of any other. Before proceeding to detailed criticism,
it will be useful to consider the motives which have led him
to take up a position so uncompromising.

THE MOTIVES WHICH UNDEELIE HIS THEOEY.

He certainly does not prefer his own theory on the ground
that it is simpler. On the contrary, he frankly admits that
it is much more complicated and difficult. " I cannot," he
says, " help confessing how much simpler it would be, and
how much laborious explanation it would save, if only it
were true that our intuitions and sensations were mental,
as is commonly supposed, and how easy it is compared with
our procedure to refer " their "variations in part to the mind
or its body".2 His reason for refusing to follow this easy
road is that it leads to destruction. "We should be living

1 1 shall try to show at the close of this paper that there is no such
initiation from the side of the subject.
2 Space, Time, and Deity, vol. ii., p. 199.

PROF. ALEXANDEK'S THEORY OF SENSE PERCEPTION. 389

in a world of sensations which would be hallucinations . . . ;
some would be veridical and some not. But we could only
discriminate the veridical ones by means of sensation, that
is, by other hallucinations. For it is of no use to urge that
our appearances are partly determined by the thing and
partly by our bodies. How shall we know what part is due
to things except through observation, for which, in turn, we
are dependent in part upon our bodies? We are reduced
to a world of consistent hallucination."1 In this passage
Alexander treats as equivalent two entirely distinct propo-
sitions : (1) that sensa and images are mental, and (2) that
they are directly correlated in their existence and nature
with occurrences in the body of the percipient. I admit and
maintain that if they were not material but mental we could
not know anything about a material world. We should not
even have the thought of such a world so as to be able to
raise the question whether it exists or not. If, through
sense perception, we are to know about the moon as it exists
independently of our sensitive organism, the sensum which
we have in seeing it must be continuous in existence with
it, and therefore fundamentally homogeneous with it in its
general nature. The contents of sense experience and
physical facts must belong to the same order of being and
be contained within the unity of the same continuous whole.
Just as, within the sense experience of each individual, his
several sensa are variable modifications of one presentation
continuum, so the several presentation continua of each of
us are all continued into and are of a piece with a wider
continuum which comprehends and connects them — compre-
hends and connects them as the physical universe compre-
hends and connects your body and mine. It will be said
that even if, in fact, sensa are thus prolonged into an exist-
ence beyond themselves, yet, since this existence is not
immediately experienced, we can never come to know that
it exists or of what nature it is. It is of vital importance to
note at the outset that this supposed difficulty arises from the
assumption that in sense knowledge all that we know
primarily and immediately is what from time to time we
immediately experience as a sensum. On this basis it is
cogently argued that if we start merely with these immediate
sensa, there is no assignable way of passing beyond them.
Hence, if they are not themselves features of the physical
world existing apart from the conditions under which they
appear to us, it is impossible that we should ever come to
know, or even have any thought of physical objects at all.

1 tipace, Time, and Deity, vol. ii., p. 199.

390 G. F. STOUT :

As Dr. Hutcheson Stirling puts it : " How can the scratch
know of the thorn ? " Granting the initial assumption, this
reasoning seems incontrovertible. But if we concede the
initial assumption, I do not see how Alexander's theory of
perception can remove the resulting difficulty. Whether sensa
are or are not features of the world existing apart from our
sense organs and nervous system, they form at any rate only
a vanishingly small fragment of this world as known to
common sense in its spatial and temporal immensity, and
its microscopic complexity. If this tiny bit is all that is
primarily known how are we to pass from it to a knowledge
of the rest? Further, even the given fragment lacks the
internal coherence of the material world. Sensa, considered
merely as they occur within individual experience, have no
systematic order according to general rules, such as makes
possible our daily lives. Berkeley, Mill, and Mr. Eussell, in
order to obtain such an order, have to posit, besides actual
sensa, a vast system of possibilities of sensation, conceived
as existing, persisting, changing, and mutually determining
each other as if they were not mere possibilities but actual
existences. But if we start purely and merely from sensa
as they are actually sensed, and images as they are actually
imaged, we cannot even reach such a system of possibilities :
and if we could, we should not be able to define what the
system is without presupposing a system of actual existences
other than the sensa themselves, on which it depends — in-
cluding our own bodies and the things around us, near and
remote. If we grant to Mr. Alexander that sensa are merely
disclosures within our experience of independently existing
features of the physical world, and that therefore they cannot
be hallucinations, yet if these sensa are all that we know,
they cannot for us constitute a world.

But does Mr. Alexander really assume that our knowledge
is primarily confined to the contents of immediate experience ?
The answer is that sometimes he does and sometimes he does
not. The term "experience " is loose and ambiguous; and
Mr. Alexander seems to pass from one meaning of it to
another without noting the difference. Sometimes, the word
is used for all knowledge as dependent on experience, as
having its source in experience, as limited and conditioned
by the limitations and conditions of experience. Sometimes
it is used for the experience itself in which knowledge has
its source, and by which it is conditioned and therefore
limited. A dentist's knowledge that his patient is feeling
toothache doubtless has its source in experience in the
narrower sense of the word. What is thus known may

PROF. ALEXANDER'S THEORY OF SENSE PERCEPTION. 391

therefore be said to come within the range of his experience
— in the wider sense. But, in the narrower sense, he
certainly does not experience his patient's toothache. He
can experience only his own toothache. He can know about
his patient's pain ; but he cannot, as Mr. Russell would say,
be immediately acquainted with it. To avoid the ambiguity,
I am in the habit of calling experience in the narrower sense,
immediate experience. But Mr. Alexander does not attempt
to avoid the ambiguity. It continually brings grist to his
mill and alone makes his theory of knowledge seem plausible.
This fundamental confusion is found even in his general
account of primary sense perception. Primarily, according
to him, what is experienced is the sensum, and the sensum
is a feature of the physical world existing quite independently
of the conditions under which we experience it — existing
before and continuing to exist after its appearance to us.
But besides this he always assumes, tacitly or explicitly,
not only that this independent existence is a fact, but that
the fact is immediately known in sense-knowledge. I grant
that if it is to be known at all, it must be immediately known,1
But it does not follow that what is immediately known must
be immediately experienced. How can we immediately ex-
perience the fact that something existed before it was im-
mediately experienced and will exist after it has ceased to be
so, and that its existence is independent of its occurrence as
a sense apparition? How can such facts be immediately
experienced as the sensum itself is ? If knowledge of this
sort is to be called experience, it can be so only in the wider
and looser application of the word. It is, of course, open to
Mr. Alexander to say that what I have called the wider and
looser application is the only one that is important, and that
the distinction between what we immediately experience and
what we know through experience makes no difference to
his account of the way in which we know the external world.
But if he proceeds on this principle, he ought to do so con-
sistently. He has no right to ignore a distinction in working
out his own views, and also to use this very distinction as a
weapon against those who disagree with him. Yet this is
precisely what he does, as may be shown by a further
quotation from the passage to which I have already referred.
After dismissing other alternatives which might remain open,
if his own theory of perception is rejected, he proceeds as
follows : " Or we may suppose that thought informs us of a

1 Immediate knowledge is here contrasted with inference. There is a
fundamental sense in which all knowledge, including what is inferential,
is immediate.

392 G. F. STOUT :

world of things to which our appearances are a guide. But
I do not know how that thought could have experience of its
object or what sort of an object it could be ; and indeed the
real world would remain in this way an unknown." l Now,
when Mr. Alexander speaks in this way, he is using the word
" experience " in the narrower application as meaning im-
mediate experience to the exclusion of any thought of what
is not immediately experienced. His position is that what is
not thus experienced cannot be known at all. But this dis-
tinction is, for him, only a stick to beat a dog with. In
working out his own theories, he ignores it or denies it. For
him, the experience which is identical with knowledge of a
sensum, includes the knowledge of that sensum as existing
independently of its appearance to us. But it is only the
apparition as such which can be immediately experienced,
not its existence independent of its appearance. Similarly,
he takes for granted not only that we can experience the
same thing at different moments, but that we recognise it as
being the same at the different moments. Again, he would
say that our knowledge of other minds is experience. But
he can hardly say that when I know that some one else has
feelings and sensations his feelings are literally identical with
my feelings and that his sensing of sensa is literally identical
with my sensing of sensa. When, therefore, in the passage
quoted, he says, " I do not know how that thought which in-
forms us of a world of things could have experience of its
object, or what sort of an object it would be," the reply is
obvious. In the wider meaning of " experience," which
Alexander himself freely uses, and cannot help using, ex-
perience includes thought, which is not experience in the
narrower sense. From this point of view, the thought itself
is experience of the object, and the thought itself immediately
reveals " what sort of an object " it is.

MY OWN POSITION.

I have now attempled to state, in general, and also to
criticise, in general, Mr. Alexander's account of sense per-
ception. I have yet to consider, in detail, the way in which
he attempts to reconcile his fundamental doctrine that the
sensum is simply identical with an independent physical
existence, with the fact, which he like others is bound to
recognise, that sensa vary in manifold ways without corre-
sponding variations in what we take ourselves to see or feel

1 Space, Time, and Deity, vol. ii., p. 200.

PROF. ALEXANDERS THEORY OF SENSE PERCEPTION. 393

when we experience them. But before entering on this topic,
it will conduce to clearness if I give a very brief sketch of my
own view of the way in which we know the material world.

First let me say that it seems to me the most arbitrary
dogmatism for any one to attempt to determine a priori what
is and what is not capable of being known. If we consider
the concept of knowledge in general, apart from the special
circumstances of this or that individual knower, there is no
reason why it should not be coextensive with all being.
There is nothing to confine it to this or that part of the
universe, or to anything short of the whole in its unity and
in its detail. That things are known is as much an inexplic-
able fact as that they exist. To ask how anything can be
known is like asking how anything can exist. Both are
wonderful facts, but it is no use wondering at them. We
must take them as we find them. When, therefore, we turn
to consider finite individuals, we must assume that their
knowledge is limited, not because it is knowledge, but be-
cause they are finite. The problem is not — ' How can I know
anything ? ' but rather ' How is it that I do not know every-
thing ? ' What is to be accounted for is not knowledge but
ignorance and error and beliefs that may or may not be true.

It is clear that at least one fundamental reason of the
limitation of knowledge in finite individuals is the limitation
of their immediate experience, owing to its dependence on
what takes place in their finite bodies. But, as I have already
insisted, if we assume that what we know is not only limited
by immediate experience but primarily confined to im-
mediate experience, we cut off all possibility of knowing any-
thing beyond this. Setting aside this alternative, what are
we to substitute for it ? We may find a clue by taking into
account the omnipresent fact that, in a very important sense,
knowledge is not limited. It is not possible to fix on this or
that partial feature or aspect of the universe and assert that
we know this only, without, in knowing it, also knowing
something beyond it and connected with it in some sort of
unity. We cannot, so to speak, draw a chalk line circum-
scribing what we know and dividing it absolutely from what
we do not know. The special items which we regard as
known to us always come before us in questionable shape.
They are or may be apprehended as essentially incomplete,
and so raise questions concerning what is required to com-
plete them. And a question always includes some notion of
the general nature of its answer. In wanting to know some-
thing, we must know, however indefinitely, what it is that
we want to know. Thus, what we call ignorance is really

394 G. F. STOUT:

diluted knowledge. We know what we are ignorant of as
being unknown and as connected with what we know.
There is no reason why this principle should not hold for
the first beginning of our knowledge of the material world as
well as for its subsequent stages; and I therefore assume
that in primary sense knowledge more is immediately known
than is immediately experienced. More precisely, I proceed
on the assumption that the whole complex content of our
sense experience and each of its several discernible parts are
primarily apprehended as continued into a whole which
transcends and includes them.1 The unity of the whole is
apprehended as a continuation of the unity of that fragment
of it which is immediately experienced. Hence what is not
experienced, inasmuch as it is immediately known as being
of a piece with what is experienced, must be from the outset
apprehended as homogeneous with it in those general
respects without which the continuous connexion cannot be
thought. These will include those fundamental features on
which the unity and continuity of our own presentation con-
tinuum depends — extension, temporal succession and change,
degree of intensity, and, in general, what Mr. Alexander
would call categorial characters.

For each individual the material world has two parts,
though it is only in critical reflexion that he comes explicitly
to distinguish them. There is, on the one hand, his own
sensa, and, on the other, what we may call the physical ex-
istence which is not immediately experienced by him though
he has immediate knowledge of it in knowing his own sense
apparitions. The unity of his own presentation-continuum
means for him a corresponding unity in the physical world.
In knowing distinctions and relations between his own sensa,
in knowing their changes and variations, he knows corre-
sponding distinctions and relations in the domain of physical
existence.

This may seem a large assumption. But, of itself, it will
not take us far. It leaves us still on the threshold of our
problem. Taken by itself it would make the realm of
physical existence, as far as we are concerned, merely an
idle duplicate of the content of sense experience. In order
to account for our knowledge of external objects, we have
still to answer two questions : (1) How is it that variations
are constantly occurring in the content of sense experience

1 What Dr. Ward calls the ' projection of the self ' seems to me to be
equally primary and inseparable from this projection of the presentation
continuum. But for the purpose of this paper I may neglect this aspect
of the question.

PEOF. ALEXANDERS THEORY OF SENSE PEECEPTION. 395

which do not imply corresponding variations in the external
objects which we take ourselves to see or touch or otherwise
perceive by our senses? (2) How is it that when these
variations are left out of count as irrelevant, we can, none
the less, independently of them, determine definitely and
positively the nature of the external object? How, for
instance, can we determine the extent of the thing seen
though we cannot identify this with any one of the variable
extents of the sense presentations which we have in seeing
or touching it ?

The answer to the first question is found in the distinction
and relation between the body of the percipient and its en-
vironment. We apprehend our own bodies in apprehending
a certain complex of sensa which we may call the body-com-
plex. This complex is persistently and continuously pre-
sented while other sensa come and go. It consists, in part,
of sensa which are the same in kind and continuous in ex-
istence with those that we experience in perceiving other
physical existences and their local and temporal distinctions
and relations. Thus, at this moment, the visual presenta-
tion which I have in looking at my hand, forms part of the
continuous field of visual experience which also includes the
visual presentation of a table. The same holds for touch
when I touch successively or simultaneously my hand and
the table. But the body complex also includes sensa peculiar
to itself which enable each of us to apprehend his own body
in a way in which we do not apprehend other things. These
are (a) organic sensa such as hunger, thirst, and what are
distinctively called bodily pains and pleasures ; (b) motor
sensa, which scientific enquiry has found to be conditioned
by the variable states of muscles, joints and tendons, due to
the variable position and motion of the limbs and sense
organs. The first point to be noted is that the experiences
in which we apprehend the body as visible and tangible
normally accompany motor experiences and vary regularly
as these vary. The second is that motor sensa are in regular
ways under subjective control. Apart from the experience
of resisted effort, we can initiate, continue, discontinue or
change them at will, or, at will, retain them unchanged.
This holds good independently of variable circumstances.
I can wave my hand whether I am on the top of Vesuvius
or in my lecture room. Now this subjective control of
motor sensa also involves a corresponding control of the
connected visual and tactual sensa. This, however, is not
so unconditional. It depends on an appropriate adjustment
of the organs of sight and touch. I cannot see my moving

396 G. F. STOUT:

hand unless my eyes are turned in the right direction. In
this respect the perception of our body and its movements
is conditioned like the perception of objects external to the
body. With this reservation, we may say that control of
our bodily changes as these are known by way of motor
sensibility is also control over the same changes as known
by sight and touch.

I now take a step of vital importance. Other sensa besides
those which belong to the body-complex are also under sub-
jective control. Their occurrence and cessation, their con-
tinuance and their variations are constantly conditioned by
perceived movements and positions of the body which we can
command at will. This control, as compared with that
which we have over our own free movements, is partial,
limited and conditional. But, within its limits, it is of a
regular and systematic character. It is limited, inasmuch
as we cannot by any motion of our body or sense organs
determine ivhat specific sense experiences we shall have.
We can only determine their occurrence, persistence, and
cessation, and cause them to change in various regular ways,
when they are already present. Whenever I open my eyes I
have certain visual presentations, and these regularly dis-
appear when I close them. But the opening of my eyes does
not, of itself, determine what special presentations I shall
have, or how they shall be grouped. In stretching out my
hand I get cutaneous sensations, but whether these shall be
such as arise in contact with the air, with a table, or with
water does not depend on me. In approaching or retiring
from a visible object the visual sensum which we have in
perceiving this object increases and diminishes in magnitude
in a regular way. But which special magnitude it shall have
at any given distance is otherwise determined. As a final
example, take the experience of resisted effort. The degree
and character of effort put forth is variable at will, but the
degree and kind of resistance met with is not. There is thus
revealed, in endlessly manifold complex and subtle ways, the
antithesis between sense experience as dependent on the
motion and position of the body, and as dependent on things
external to the body. Change and difference so far as con-
ditioned by our bodily position are not, and are not taken to
be, change and difference in the external object perceived.
This is my answer to the first question.

The second question arises out of this answer to the first.
What is the real nature of the external object, if- we cannot
identify it with the real nature of the sense presentations
which we have in perceiving it ? Its character is apprehended

PKOF. ALEXANDER'S THEORY OF SENSE PERCEPTION. 397

as quite independent of the bodily conditions of perceiving it ;
but the sensa we have in perceiving it perpetually vary as
these conditions vary. How then can we determine positively
and definitely the size and shape of physical objects outside
our body, in distinction from the size and shape of the
relevant visual and tactual sensa? We determine the in-
dependent nature of objects external to the sense organs, not
directly by their relation to our sense experience but by
certain relations which they have to each other, relations of
such a kind that they do not vary with the bodily conditions
of perception.

In order to illustrate the general principle, it will be
sufficient to refer ojoly to causal relations and to relations of
extensive magnitude. If I turn on the tap in my bath-room,
water flows and the bath begins to fill. Inasmuch as the
flow of the water is apprehended as causally conditioned, in
the given situation, by the turning of the tap, it is a process
which takes place independently of the bodily conditions of
perceiving it. Even if I leave the bath-room altogether I
assume, that, because the tap is turned on, the water is still
flowing as it would if I were present. The characters of
external objects are determined for us, in part, by the differ-
ences they make to such independent causal processes. If
we look down from a high cliff on men on the beach below
us, the visual apparitions of the men beneath us are extremely
small as compared with those of men standing beside us.
A child might be led to believe that the men themselves are
proportionally diminutive. But from the causal point of
view this would mean that if he were near enough, he could
pick one of them up and put him in his pocket. Similarly,
if an oar were really bent in the water, this would be awk-
ward for rowers.

The extensive magnitude of external objects is in part
-determined by their causal relations. But there is also a
more direct way of fixing it, measurement by superposition.
In the first instance, the measurement is by superposition of
the members of the percipient's own body on each other and
on external things.

This relation of superposition does not itself fall within
immediate sense experience. When my hand is in contact
with the table, there are not two layers of tactual sensa
which cover each other. The relation is between two
physical existences considered as existing independently of
the bodily conditions of perception and the coming and going
and other variations of the sense impressions which are con-
nected with these bodily conditions. So far and so long as-

398 G. F. STOUT:

the palm of my left hand is in contact with the table I cannot,
by any motor adjustment, see either the surface of the table
or the palm of my hand. I cannot touch either of them with
the other hand, and I can neither see nor touch anything
between them. It is thus that the relation of superposition
is revealed as independent of the vicissitudes of my sense ex-
perience and its bodily conditions. It would be so revealed,
even if my hand were insentient, if, for example, it were
made of wood. Nothing depends on the peculiar nature of
touch sensations. They are important only because, normally,
when we have them our skin is in contact with a surface ex-
ternal to it. Hence they are for us signs of superposition.
It is on this condition that the advantage of touch over
sight depends. Otherwise the delicacy of tactual discrimi-
nation of size and shape is far inferior to that of sight. It
is not the superior precision of any form of sense experi-
ence which leads ultimately to the minute exactness of
scientific measurement. It is rather such relations as super-
position which do not vary with the varying conditions of
sense experience.

Such means of assigning positive values to the characters
of external objects, after discounting the conditions of per-
ception, just because they are founded on the relations of
external objects to each other, can yield only knowledge of
relative size, shape and position. Hence the modern doctrine
of relativity is only a complex development of the relativity
involved from the outset in primitive stages of perceptual
knowledge. From the same point of view, we can account
for the distinction of primary and secondary qualities.
Secondary qualities are those which are not thus determin-
able by the relations of external objects to each other. Hence,
though we may know them as existing independently of the
variations of our sense experience, we cannot, or can only, in
a very inadequate way, fix what they are apart from these
variations.

THE PRECISE POINT AT ISSUE.

From this account of my own position, it is clear wherein
this differs from that of Mr. Alexander. We agree in
holding that all knowledge is an immediate revelation of
what exists. But he maintains and I deny that this im-
mediate knowledge is primarily confined to what is im-
mediately experienced. This question I have already dealt
with. But there is another arising out of his position
which requires further discussion. If we start, as he

PEOF. ALEXANDER'S THEORY OF SENSE PERCEPTION. 399

seems to suppose, by knowing only what we immediately
experience, how can we pass from immediately experienced
sensa to external objects ? According to Mr. Alexander the
question itself rests on a mistake.. It rests on the assumption
that the sensuni is an existence distinct from the external
object perceived in experiencing it. Alexander on the con-
trary cuts the knot by assuming that when we perceive
something external to the body or sense organs the sensum
is simply identical with some feature either of the thing per-
ceived or of some other thing which we have previously
perceived or which at any rate exists or has existed in the
external world. I have already pointed out that even if we
grant the identity as fact, this does not explain how the
identity comes to be known. This, however, is a difficulty
which does not seem to trouble Mr. Alexander. But there
is another which does trouble him, so that he feels bound to
meet it by an elaborate explanation. He spends all his in-
genuity in attempting to answer the question how, if the
sensum is always identical with some feature of external
existence, it is possible for the sensum to vary without corre-
sponding variations in the external object which we perceive
or take ourselves to perceive.

He uses the term "appearances" for sensa considered
from this point of view. His general position is that so far
as appearances differ from what we take ourselves to perceive
this is because in them what really exists in the external
world is either only partially revealed or revealed in a dis-
torted way.

EEAL APPEARANCES.

Setting distortions aside for the moment, let us con-
sider first the fragmentary nature of the sense revelation.
How is this fragmentariness made to account for difference
between the sensum and the feature of the external object
which is supposed to be identical with it? At first sight
it would seem that there can be no road this way. For
if the partial feature which is revealed is simply identical
with the given sensum, it is hard to understand how in
spite of this identity it may yet differ from the sensum,
merely because there are other partial features which are not
revealed. It would seem that to account for this there must
be distortion as well as deficiency. In fact, as we shall see,
Mr. Alexander does everywhere introduce distortion, without
recognising that he is doing so. Appearances supposed to
be partial but not distorted are called by Alexander real

400 G. F. STOUT:

appearances. A simple example is the change in the bright-
ness of a light, or the loudness of a sound, as we approach
the source or recede from it. According to Alexander " the
mind situated further off selects a portion of the thing ".
Part of this is identical with the sensum, other parts are not
This would seem a simple and straightforward explanation,
if we could attach a satisfactory meaning to the phrase " part
of the brightness ". But according to Alexander himself
there are no such parts. As he immediately goes on to say,
the " selection of the lower brightness from the real bright-
ness does not mean that that real brightness is divisible into
parts, as if intensities could be obtained by addition ". This
being so, I, at any rate, see no way of avoiding the conclu-
sion that, inasmuch as there are no parts to select from, no
parts can be selected. Each degree of brightness as im-
mediately experienced is a distinct degree, occupying its own
place in the intensive scale. To say that the real brightness
contains the others is merely a very inaccurate way of saying
that it is more intense or, at any rate, not less intense than
any of them. It is therefore not surprising that side by side
with this, Mr. Alexander gives another and quite different
explanation of what it is that is selected from the total ob-
ject. This is now said to be not part of the intensive quality,
but part of the external stimulus which conditions the ap-
prehension of it. On this view, " the distance from a sound
selects that amplitude of the qualitative vibration which
represents the diminished intensity produced by distance ".
The difficulty here is that no such selection takes place, and
also that if it did it would not be what is required. Selection,
in the only relevant sense, means that part of the external
object is a sensum and part not. But in seeing brightness or
hearing sounds the light and sound vibrations are not pre-
sented as sensa either wholly or fractionally; and even if
they were they would not be identical with the brightness or
the sound. They would not be so either in fact or according
to Mr. Alexander. For, according to him, a sensible quality
is something new which emerges when certain motions occur.
It is not identical with the motions themselves. Thus the
alleged selection from the amplitude of the vibration merely
means that the occurrence and nature of the sensum depends
not directly on the vibration as it initially proceeds from the
external object, but on the way in which the previous state
of the sense organ and nervous system is modified by that
phase of the vibration which reaches the ear. Wherever the
vibration comes from and however it may originally be set
going, the sound sensum is determined by that phase of it in

PEOF. ALEXANDER'S THEORY OF SENSE PERCEPTION. 401

which it arrives at the sense organ and contributes to deter-
mine changes in this and in connected neural arrangements.
In other words the occurrence and nature of the sensum de-
pends directly only on what takes place in the body of the
percipient, however this may be occasioned. But this is just
what Alexander is concerned to deny.

Let us, however, suppose that, in some relevant sense,
part of an intensity may be revealed in sense experience and
part not. Such partial presentation will not cover the facts
unless it is taken also to involve distortion.

What is revealed as a sensum, so far as it is thus revealed,
is itself a distinct and separate intensity, not part of an
intensity. The part in being cut off from the whole to
which it is supposed to belong, becomes itself a distinct
intensive whole, a distinct degree of intensity occupying its
own place in the intensive scale. Thus a less intensive
magnitude is substituted for the intensive magnitude of the
external and distinct sound or brightness. This is distortion.
But Mr. Alexander cannot admit distortion in what he calls
"real appearances". The real appearances are the basis
and presupposition of all others and they are called real just
because they are assumed not to be distorted by bodily or
mental conditions.

So far I have been considering only whether Mr. Alexander's
theory is tenable, when examined from the point of view of
our present knowledge of the external world and of the
conditions of perceiving it. But there is a further question
which, though it is altogether of vital importance to his
general position, is completely ignored by him. Let us
grant that the several degrees of brightness which we im-
mediately experience in approaching a source of light form
an ascending scale which has its upper limit in the bright-
ness of the external obtect and that this brightness exists
quite independently of our sense experience and its bodily
conditions. Let us grant that this holds good in such a way
that, at least metaphorically, we may legitimately speak of
the several degrees of brightness as parts of the external
brightness. Conceding all this, we have still to inquire
whether it is included in the primary sense knowledge of
the percipient. Is the knowledge a constituent condition of
the first apprehension of the external object as such ? If
Mr. Alexander had faced this question, he would, I submit,
have found himself caught between the horns of a very
serious dilemma. If he says "yes" then he must frankly
and consistently surrender the assumption that we can
primarily know only what we immediately experience as we

26

402 G. F. STOUT:

experience a present sensum. What thus enters experience
is only a part of the external intensity. If it not only is
a part, but is apprehended as being a part, there is the
knowledge of an intensive whole, which includes it, and this
whole, ex hypothesi, is not itself a sensum, and has never
been a sensum, or if it has it cannot be known to have been
a sensum. I should say that the intensive whole, if it is.
primarily known, is known by a thought which has its
source in the essential incompleteness of immediate ex-
perience. In the strict use of language, I prefer to say that
it is known by experience rather than that it is itself experi-
enced. Mr. Alexander, on the contrary, may insist if he
likes in calling thought, as such, a kind of experience. The
question concerns only the employment of words, and does
not touch the real issue. The essential point is that on any
view the bare immediacy of sense is transcended, and so
transcended as to yield knowledge of what Hume called
matter of fact in distinction from relation of ideas. More is
immediately known than is immediately experienced.

On the other hand, if it is said that the partial intensities
are not primarily apprehended as partial, Mr. Alexander
seems to be impaled on another horn of the dilemma. How
do the parts of the whole external intensity come to be appre-
hended as being parts of it ? Or, what comes to the same
thing, how is the existence of the whole external intensity
known at all ? It must be remembered that for Mr. Alexander
the apprehension of real appearances is the basis of all
further knowledge of the external world. It is here, there-
fore, if anywhere, that we must look for the answer to our
question. But he fails to supply any answer, and none can
be given consistent with the assumption that we primarily
know only what we immediately experience. He is thus,
after all his pains and ingenuity, faced with what is, in
principle, the old insoluble problem. If we begin by knowing
only our own sensa, how can we ever get beyond them?
The difficulty is not met and is hardly mitigated by saying
that the sensa are in fact identical with partial features of
the external object.

Keal appearances vary not only in intensity but in size
and shape. When we move away from a plate at right
angles to its centre, the relevant visual sensum retains its
shape, but diminishes in size as the retinal surface excited
becomes smaller. Yet the size of the external object as
determined by measurement and the part it plays in causal
process remains constant. If the^ plate is seen obliquely the
shrinking is greater for one axis than another and its sensible
shape varies in consequence. The sensum is elliptical in-

PEOF. ALEXANDER'S THEORY OF SENSE PERCEPTION. 403

stead of circular. According to Mr. Alexander, " the dis-
tance of the eye from the plate acts selectively as with the
varying degrees of brightness ; the size which we see is a
portion of the real geometrical size of the plate ".1 Here he
tacitly assumes that what we see is identical with the visual
sensum which we have in seeing. This is contrary to the
ordinary use of language, and gives rise to great confusion.
What we take ourselves to see is not merely the size of the
visual sensum but the size of the external object as sug-
gested under the given conditions by the visual sensum. As
I approach or retire from the plate there are certain limits
of distance within which I do not ordinarily notice the differ-
ence between the successive visual experiences so as to com-
pare them. I have learned to regard them as due merely
to bodily conditions of perception and therefore as irrele-
vant. Hence I see the plate as of the same constant size and
shape in spite of them. Beyond these limits of distance I
become aware of the sensible variations as such, and then
they perceptually suggest corresponding, though not propor-
tionate, variations in the external size and shape. So far as
this happens, I still take myself to see the size and shape of
the external objects. The only difference is that I may re-
cognise that I see them inaccurately. Mr. Alexander, in
identifying the sensation with what is seen, shares the
fundamental fallacy of Berkeley that we properly and
primarily perceive only what we immediately experience.

External size and shape is of course the same whether we
are conversant with it by way of sight or by way of touch,
so far as the perception is not mistaken. But this does not
imply that the extensive tactual sensum is ever identical
with the extension of visual sensa. This identity is asserted
by Mr. Alexander ; but he does not even attempt to meet the
cogent argument against it in Berkeley's Theory of Vision.
He merely appeals to a simple experiment. " We have only
to hold the plate in our hands and move it away ... in
order to assure ourselves that the touch and the colour of
the plate are in the same place." Now I agree that this
experience yields evidence of the identity of extension as
seen, and extension as touched. But it does not in the least
show that visual and tactual sensa are included within the
same continuous extension. What is really relevant and
important is that the extent of the plate as measured by
superposition of the hand remains constant, while the visual
sensa vary. The constancy of tactual sensa as compared

1 Space, Time, and Deity, vol. ii., p. 194.

404 G. F. STOUT:

with visual is not a superiority but a defect. It is to be
noted that they are not constant except for the same part of
the skin ; and even with this restriction the constancy is
only due to the fact that the conditions under which the
tactual experience is gained are strictly fixed and limited
instead of being widely variable as they are for sight. But
this is merely a defect to be added to the other imperfections
of touch as compared with vision. The tactual sensum is
constant only in the way in which any one of the alternative
visual presentations is constant so long as the eyes are turned
in the same direction, and the thing seen is at the same dis-
tance. The difference is that tactual experience is limited to
one set of conditions and does not occur at all without them.

It follows from what I have just said that neither the real
nor the apparent shape of the external object is identical
with the size or shape of the visual apparition immediately
experienced. The real shape and size of the external object
is determinable by measurement and causal relations. Its
apparent size and shape is what we, rightly or wrongly,
estimate the real size and shape to be as suggested by
present sense experience in conjunction with preacquired
knowledge. This being so, there is no d priori reason for
accepting Mr. Alexander's position that the size of the
sensum and the external size differ only as part and whole,
the extent of the sensum being only a portion of the extent
of the thing seen. We have now to consider whether this
hypothesis fits the facts better or worse than the alternative
view that the sensum depends directly and ultimately only
on the way in which the sense organ is affected.

Extensive magnitude unlike intensive does contain distinct
parts and we may therefore speak quite literally of some
parts being revealed in sense experience while others are un-
revealed. But this is not an accurate description of what we
observe when a visual presentation shrinks as the distance
from the thing seen increases. It is not correct to say that
some parts vanish while others persist. Each discernible
part shrinks as well as the whole and the whole shrinks only
because the parts shrink. Details do disappear but only be-
cause they gradually become too small to be distinguishable,
until at the last we are left with a blur in which none of the
original details can be discerned. This does not fit in well
with Mr. Alexander's theory. But it is just what we should
expect if the visual magnitude is correlated with retinal and
nervous process and is dependent on other factors only if and
so far as they condition this.

Even if, setting aside this difficulty, we suppose that

PROF. ALEXANDER'S THEORY OF SENSE PERCEPTION. 405

what happens is that some parts are taken and others left,
this is not enough. It does not explain how or why the
selected parts close with each other and run together in one
continuous immediately experienced extension, instead of
having distances or gaps between them, corresponding to the
parts selected. This involves more than mere selection. It
is also distortion of the kind which Mr. Alexander would
class as illusion. Parts which are immediately contiguous
in sense experience are separated by intervals in the external
object. In Mr. Alexander's language, they are seen in situa-
tions which do not really belong to them. We thus again
reach the result that the real appearance in which the exter-
nal object is supposed to be simply identical with the sensum
is, in fact, infected through and through with illusive dis-
tortion. But the basis of Mr. Alexander's theory is that real
appearance is free from illusion. It is indeed for that reason
that he calls it real. There is also the further difficulty that
the distortion as distinguished from mere selection requires
a separate special explanation on another principle. I do
not doubt that Mr. Alexander's ingenuity could devise one.
But it is the extreme of perversity to put forward two radi-
cally distinct hypotheses, both of a very complicated nature,
when the facts themselves carry one simple, obvious and
adequate explanation, so to speak, written on their face.
The size and shape of the sensum varies directly with the
retinal excitation whatever factor may be concerned in pro-
ducing this.

Before leaving the subject of real appearance, I may note
that the same epistemological difficulty confronts Mr. Alex-
ander for extensive as for intensive variations. Does the
percipient subject himself know in primary sense knowledge
that there is a total extension containing all the parts re-
vealed to him as sensa ? Does he primarily apprehend the
parts as parts of this whole ? If he does, then primary sense
knowledge transcends immediate experience. On the other
hand if parts are not apprehended as parts, how can we ever
come to know that there is a whole which transcends and
includes them ?

MERE APPEARANCES.

According to Alexander the distinctive character of the
appearances which he calls real is that though they are
selected from the whole nature of the thing perceived
they are not otherwise altered. Besides this he recognises
two other kinds of appearances which are not merely

406 G. F. STOUT:

selected but distorted. The word " distorted " means that
instead of the external object which we take ourselves to
perceive, something else is substituted more or less different
from it. Strictly following out his general philosophy of
perception, Mr. Alexander maintains that what is thus sub-
stituted does not at all owe its nature and existence to any
process occurring in the body of the percipient ; on the con-
trary it is always some feature or other in the external world,
existing quite independently of the occurrence of sensations
and their bodily conditions. There is distortion only inas-
much as this independent existence is sensuously revealed in
connexion with a thing to which it does not belong : and this
means that it is revealed in a place where it really is not or
at a time when it really is not. Such misleading revelations
are traced to different sources. They may be due to the mind
of the percipient, which includes for Alexander the bodily
conditions of perception. When this occurs the appearances
are called illusory. On the other hand the distortion may be
due merely to the combination of the thing perceived with
other things which are also themselves perceived or at least
capable of being so. The sense- appearance is then called a
mere appearance. It is with mere appearances that we are
at present concerned.

At the outset, I find it impossible to obtain from Mr.
Alexander any consistent and intelligible account of what a
mere appearance is. On two points, indeed, he is clear.
The mere appearance is not identical with any feature of the
external object to which it is referred by the percipient, when
this is considered in detachment from its environment. The
partially immersed stick, when considered by itself, apart
from its immersion, is not bent as it seems to be. In the
second place, the mere appearance is in some way identical
with a feature of the total situation composed of the special
object perceived and other objects combined with this. It is
when we inquire how this can be that the puzzle begins.
I find in Mr. Alexander two distinct accounts of what takes
place ; and neither of them seems tenable. Both are given
side by side in the following passage. In mere appearance,
" we do not sense the thing of which we apprehend the mere
appearance taken by itself, but in connexion with some other
thing which modifies it "-1 Let me here interrupt the
quotation to say that this is the first alternative. What is
relevant in the sensum is, on this view, really a feature of
the particular external object perceived, as this object is really

1 Space, Time, and Deity, vol. ii., p. 191.

PEOF. ALEXANDER'S THEORY OF SENSE PERCEPTION. 407

modified by something else. In the rest of the quotation
Mr. Alexander drops this view and passes, without being
aware of the discrepancy, to a quite different position.
" What we sense or otherwise apprehend is not the thing by
itself, but a new thing of which the thing forms a part ; and
there is no reason to suppose, illusion barred, the compound
thing does not really possess what we sense." Here the
sensum is identified, not with a feature of the perceived thing
as this is modified by its environing conditions, but with a
feature of a compound object conditioned by the combination
of the thing perceived with other things.

Both these explanations break down hopelessly : and Mr.
Alexander is only able to conceal the inadequacy of each of
them by oscillating between it and the other. Take first the
modification theory. If the perceived object is really modified
by the conditions under which it exists, this means that it
really has a character which would not characterise it if
these were absent. It is this character which is revealed in
the mere appearance. What is revealed as a sensum does in
fact belong to that external object which we take ourselves
to perceive. It is plain that if this were so, there would be
no distinction between a mere appearance and a real appear-
ance. As a matter of fact, what Mr. Alexander calls mere
appearances are not constituted in this way. The water does
not really bend the stick in which it is plunged. What is
modified in both instances is the light in its passage to the
eye, and the retinal excitation, and the visual presentation
dependent on this. We are no better off if we try the other
alternative, that what is revealed as a sensum is a character
of a composite external object containing, as a part of itself,
the particular thing which we perceive. It is not true that
the bend in the visual presentation when we see a partially
immersed oar, is identical with a bend of the whole physical
complex constituted by the water and the oar. There is no
such bend ; what is true is that this complex of external con-
ditions gives rise to refraction of the light proceeding to the
eye, and thereby determines the retinal process in such a way
that the visual sensum is really bent. Similarly when we
see a distant mountain through a haze, it is not true that the
colour-quality which we immediately experience is really
spread over the surface both of the haze and mountain. In
what way then can it be said to belong to both of them to-
gether if it belongs to neither of them separately ? To say
that it belongs to both together is only a very inaccurate way
of stating the obvious fact. The light reflected from the
mountain is so altered by its passage through the haze as to

408 G. F. STOUT:

affect the eye as it would not otherwise do and so gives rise
to different visual presentations.

We have yet to consider a third formula used by Mr.
Alexander, which is inconsistent with either of the others.
The sensum is supposed to be identical with some feature of
an object existing in the environment of the percipient : but
owing to other conditions also existing in the environment,
what is thus revealed as a sensum is revealed in a place in
which it is not really present. How far this explanation is
supposed to cover mere appearances in general, I am not
sure. It is applied by Mr. Alexander especially to one mere
appearance, reflexion in a plain mirror, assumed to be flaw-
less. Let us suppose that what is reflected is the body of a
man facing the glass. Then, according to Mr. Alexander,
the shape, size and colouring of the man is really where the
man is, some distance in front of the mirror. But for one
who sees the reflexion this identical shape, size and colour
is immediately experienced in a place where it is not, i.e.,
some distance behind the surface of the glass.

This theory, if it is taken strictly, I hold to be quite im-
possible. But it is important that it should be taken strictly,
and not confused with $nother position which no one, I pre-
sume, would dispute. Undoubtedly when we see a man re-
flected in a mirror, his shape and size, and consequently the
man himself appear, i.e., seem to be where they really are not,
or seem as if they were where they really are not. If the
percipient does not otherwise know the contrary, he will be-
lieve that there is a man behind the mirror. A baby, for
instance, may feel for the man whom he takes to be in front
of him. To the baby it seems that there is a man there. To
us it only seems as if there were a man there.

Up to this point the word " appears " has been used as a
synonym of "seems". I have not spoken of appearing ab-
solutely, but only of something appearing or seeming to be
this or that, or appearing as if it were this or that. But the
word appearing has also another and a radically different
meaning. It may be used absolutely. Now if and so far as
anything really appears in this sense it really is as it appears.
If the man himself really appears behind the mirror he really
is behind the mirror. The apparition is the reality itself ap-
pearing. There is no question of seeming. Whoever may
deny this, Mr. Alexander cannot consistently do so. For his
whole philosophy of perception is based on the assumption
that what is revealed in immediate sense experience exists as
a feature of the external world. This presupposes that at
least it really exists.

PROF. ALEXANDER'S THEORY OF SENSE PERCEPTION. 409

The relevant visual sensum which we have on looking at
the reflexion of a man in a mirror does really appear and
not merely seem to be in a certain place with a certain situa-
tion relatively to other places. This is possible inasmuch as
it is a locally distinct part of the total field of visual sensa
experienced at the time. It is a sense apparition revealed
within a more extensive apparition which is itself revealed
in the same way. Within this continuous whole it is im-
mediately experienced in certain local relations to other sensa,
e.g., those which we have in seeing the frame of the mirror
or articles on our dressing table. An appeal to immediate
experience yields unambiguous evidence that it does really
appear and does therefore exist in these relations and does
not merely seem to be in them. Unfortunately for Mr.
Alexander, this appeal to immediate experience makes
nonsense of his whole doctrine of sense knowledge. It makes
nonsense of his fundamental doctrine that sensa are identical
with characters of the external object. For the form and
colour of the man whose reflexion we see is not really placed
relatively to the frame of the looking glass, as the correspond-
ing visual apparitions are really placed in relation to each
other. If the form and colour of the man are identical with
the form and colour immediately experienced, when his re-
flexion is seen, then the form and colour of the man must
really exist, and not merely appear to exist, in two separate
places at the same time. This is most clearly shown by a
fact which evidently puzzles Mr. Alexander, as it ought to
do. "If " he says, " you touch a thing like a pencil which is
in front of you so that you see it directly and also in the
mirror, the judgment is troubled. For the virtual image is
only seen with the help of the mirror, and the real pencil is
seen as well as touched ; and there are thus two visions of
space at once." l On my view this means that though we
see the same single external object, there really are three
distinct sensa, two visual and one tactual. But if, like
Alexander, we identify the single external object with the
several sensa we are in a desperate position. The visual
apparitions are really distinct within the field of visual ex-
perience, and separated from each other by an experienced
interval. Immediate experience reveals their local separation
just as it reveals their shape and colour. I have as little
right to deny that there are two of them as to deny that they
exist at all. It is just because there are two visual sensa that
it seems as if there were two external objects — two hands.

1 Space, Time, and Deity, vol. ii., p. 198.

410 G. F. STOUT :

It is strongly, vividly and insistently suggested that there are
two hands, only because in ordinary vision there are usually
two external objects where two visual presentations are dis-
tinguished. It is futile to urge that the same sensum is twice
apprehended and on this account seems itself to be doubled.
For there is no way of distinguishing the awareness of one
sensum from that of the other except by distinguishing the
sensa themselves.

ILLUSOKY APPEARANCES.

Illusory and mere appearances are, for Mr. Alexander,,
essentially akin inasmuch as in both of them a sensum
appears in connexion with an external object to which
it does not really belong. But there is a difference in the
conditions under which this takes place. In mere appear-
ance the displacement is due to factors external to the body
of the percipient. An illusion, on the contrary, is due
to what occurs within the sensitive organism. Both in
illusion and mere appearance, what is sensibly revealed dis-
agrees with what really exists only so far as a sensum is mis-
placed in space or time. The sensum itself which is thus
misplaced is supposed to be identical with something which
really exists in the external world at some place or time. In
mere appearance, it is supposed to be somehow contained in
the total situation which confronts the percipient. In
illusion it may be anywhere.

I have already examined the conception of something as
appearing in a place in which it is not. The same difficulty
which I have noted in dealing with the mirror, arises here
also. ''There is," says Alexander, "no illusion until an
element in the appearance which does not belong to the
thing is perceived as belonging to it : until, for instance, the
green seen by contrast on a piece of grey paper lying on a
red ground is seen as an affection of the place of the grey
paper. The green by itself is not illusory, but the patch,
occupied by the grey, seen as green." (II., p. 209.) I
would here first inquire what ground we have for asserting
the existence of the green sensum. The only answer and
the sufficient answer is that the green is actually revealed
within immediate sense experience. But on the same
principle we are also bound to assert that the green sensum
does not merely seem to be actually placed within the red.
For what is immediately experienced is a green situated
within a red field and continuous with it. This green there-
fore does not merely seem, but actually is, within the red.

PROF. ALEXANDER'S THEORY OF SENSE PERCEPTION. 411

But, according to Alexander, the red as sensed is identical
with the red colour of the paper, and the colour of the paper
is where the paper is and nowhere else. If this were true
it would inevitably follow that the green is really situated
within the red surface of the paper and continuous with it.
But, ex hypothesi, what occupies this particular place within
the red background of the paper is, in fact, not a green but a
grey speck. The only conclusion that I find myself able to
draw is that Mr. Alexander is wrong in identifying sensa
with features of external objects existing independently of
sensation and its bodily conditions. The existence and
nature of sensa are inseparable from correlated processes in
the nervous system and sense organs. The characters of
things external to the body are unaffected by these processes.
In conclusion, I must insist on an objection which, if it is
well founded, is fatal to Mr. Alexander's account, not only of
illusory perception, but of ideal revival in general. It is
fundamental to his whole theory that when the mind knows
an external object it shall communicate with this through a
specially appropriate transaction in which both are equally
partners. In ordinary sense perception there is a continuous
train of occurrences causally initiated by the object and
terminating in a process taking place in the brain of the
percipient. There ought to be an analogous bridge in ideal
revivals and in illusion between the independently existing
object and the cognitive subject. According to Mr. Alexander
there is such a bridge here also. The only difference is that
whereas in normal perception the common transaction is
initiated from the side of the object, in illusion or ideal
revival it is initiated from the side of the subject. In
ordinary perception, the bridge is thrown across the stream
from one bank ; in ideal revival and illusory perception it is
thrown across the' stream from the opposite bank. It must
be admitted that this formula is very neat. My difficulty is
that it seems to ride rough-shod over the relevant facts. The
formula could be justified only on the false assumption
that for example, when, owing to contrast, we have a green
sensum instead of a grey, there is initially a certain process
in the brain and organ of vision, which sets going a light
vibration or some equivalent train of occurrences terminating
in something which is really green and not grey. Otherwise
the interval between the percipient and the independently
existing object is not bridged as it is in veridical perception.
If it is said that no bridge is required and that a certain
cerebral event by itself suffices to unveil a certain sensum in
whatever place and time this may exist, I would ask you to

412 G. F. STOUT : ALEXANDER'S THEORY OF SENSE PERCEPTION.

consider the hopeless jigsaw puzzle which, on this view,
would confront us from our infancy. Then, sense experience
would indeed reveal characters and qualities in the world
external to the body, but would supply no clue to determine
where and when they existed. It may be said that originally
the process which discloses a certain sensum must be initiated
from the side of the object, but that when communication
has once been opened, the nervous occurrence will suffice by
itself however it may arise. But the explanation does not
really meet the difficulty. It is as if it were maintained that
having previously crossed a stream by a bridge we can there-
fore cross it after the bridge has been swept away, provided
only that a fragment of it remains on our side of the stream.

II.— IS THE CONCEPTION OF THE UNCON-
SCIOUS OF VALUE IN PSYCHOLOGY?1

A SYMPOSIUM BY G. C. FIELD, F. AVELING AND JOHN

LAIRD.

I. BY G. C. FIELD.

IT is one of the chief claims put forward by the exponents of
the so-called ' new ' Psychology that they have been the first
to recognise seriously the importance of the Unconscious^
and the necessity of assuming unconscious mind or uncon-
scious mental processes to explain the mental occurrences that
do take place. I propose here to ask whether this line of
thought is really of value in Psychology. I do not intend to
discuss whether it may or may not have a certain value as a
provisional working hypothesis within certain limited fields,
say, the applied science of Psycho-therapy. The title confines
us to a consideration of its value to Psychology, in the proper
sense. Does it help us to understand more clearly what sort
of thing the mind is, or what sort of thing the concrete
human being is ? Does it afford us a real explanation, an
explanation that gives us real knowledge, of the mental pro-
cesses of this human being ? To these questions I find" my-
self compelled to return a decisively negative answer, well
aware that by doing so I shall at once write myself down as
a hopeless obscurantist in the minds of many people. But I
will try to give reasons within the limited space at my dis-
posal, why I am unable to discover any value in the hypo-
thesis and why I maintain further that, as it is used by some
modern writers, it leads us to a positively erroneous idea of
the nature of the mind and of certain mental processes.

My first difficulty is one with which we are all familiar.
I repeat it here, without making the slightest claim to
originality in it, because I cannot find that the exponents of
the ' new ' Psychology have so far shown the slightest sign of
realising its seriousness or even its meaning.

We are told again and again that it is necessary to assume
the existence of the Unconscious, of unconscious regions of
the mind or of unconscious mental processes. But before we

1 Contributed to the Joint Session of the Mind Association and the
Aristotelian Society at Manchester, July 14th-16th, 1922.

414 G. c. FIELD:

can do that, and still more before we can put forward this
assumption as a real explanation of anything, we must at
least have an intelligible idea of what sort of thing this is
which we have got to assume. And it is here that the diffi-
culties begin. The point has of ten been put. It is urged in the
first place, that the only evidence we have of anything in
ourselves beyond bodily processes is our experience of our
own conscious processes. And the only things which we
can call ' mind ' or ' mental ' with any intelligible meaning are
these conscious processes. Anything in us which is neither
conscious nor physical is therefore something unknowable and
indescribable, or indescribable except in purely negative
terms. But if the Unconscious is thus merely a negative
idea, something of which all that we can say is that it is not
physical and not conscious, then it ceases to be anything
which could be given as a real explanation. It is simply an
X, an unknown cause. And to ascribe anything to it is
simply a confession of ignorance.

This, of course, would not be admitted by the advocates of
the claims of the Unconscious. And we find them, accord-
ingly, continually speaking of the activities of the unconscious
mind in exactly the same terms as of the activities of the
conscious mind, so that we hear of unconscious desires,
emotions, wishes, fears, or of unconscious thoughts or
memories. These unconscious mental processes as Dr.
Ernest Jones tells us (Papers on Psycho- Analysis, p. 121)
"present all the attributes of mental ones, except that the
subject is not aware of them". And consciousness thus be-
comes, he says, "merely one attribute of mentality, and not
an indispensable one". I have searched in vain for a clear
statement of what the other attributes of mentality are which
these processes do possess. And when I reflect on what I
mean by a wish or an emotion or a feeling, I can only find
that I know and think of them simply as different forms of
consciousness. I cannot find any distinguishable element in
these experiences which can be called consciousness and
separated from the other elements even in thought so as to
leave anything determinate behind. And to ask us to think
of something which has all the characteristics of a wish or a
feeling except that it is not conscious seems to me like ask-
ing us to think of something which has all the attributes of
red or green except that it is not a colour.

I believe that everybody really feels this difficulty, and the
result is that many writers slip into a way of talking, and I
believe at times of thinking, of the Unconscious as of another
conscious person of exactly the same kind as the conscious

VALUE OF THE UNCONSCIOUS IN PSYCHOLOGY. 415

personality that we know, which exists alongside it and every
now and then affects it in some way or other, so that to
explain an event by referring it to the Unconscious becomes
just the same kind of explanation as to say that something
was done by John Jones instead of by Torn Smith. But
whatever the Unconscious is, it is not that. Or else we are
invited to take refuge in spatial metaphors, to talk of different
levels or regions of the mind, and to think of it, perhaps, as
a box with a false bottom and a hidden receptacle underneath,
which contains all sorts of objects. But this, like the other
attempt to describe the unconscious mind, only ends by de-
scribing something else. And there is clearly something
wrong with a conception of the mental which can only be de-
scribed in metaphors drawn from the material.

These are purely general considerations. To come to closer
grips with the subject it is necessary to examine the con-
siderations which are supposed to make it necessary to
assume an Unconscious, and the kind of occurrences which
are supposed to be explicable only on such an assumption.
And in this connexion I should like to give a brief considera-
tion to a typical case, the case of claustrophobia, of which
we have such an admirable description by Dr. Rivers in one
of the Appendices to his Instinct and the Unconscious. In
this case, it will be recalled, an event took place in the early
history of the patient which aroused in him acute fear at the
time. The event was forgotten, so completely that it could
not be recalled by the ordinary method of remembering. But
the emotion, or the tendency to the emotion, remained, and
was aroused in the patient whenever he was in a situation
similar to the original one in the respect that it was in an
enclosed space.

Now how does Dr. Eivers describe what happens here?
Note, in the first place, that he does not say, as I should say,
that the person is no longer conscious or aware of the past
event. He says that the event itself, which he calls the ex-
perience, becomes unconscious. That is to say, he holds that
the past event or experience continues to exist in the form or
in the place which he calls the Unconscious. The evidence for
this is (1) that the results produced by the event continued in
the permanent form of Claustrophobia ; (2) that by the methods
of Psycho-analysis the patient can be brought to remember
what happened. But do either of these facts necessitate such
an assumption ? Or are they made any more intelligible by
this way of talking ? Let us consider them in turn.

(1) Confining ourselves to what is absolutely beyond
doubt in the case, we. can say firstly that the past event — of

416 G. c. FIELD:

which, of course, the person was fully conscious at the time
— is forgotten. And secondly, it is clear that the event pro-
duced such an effect on the nature or disposition of the
patient that in the future he always feels fear in enclosed
spaces. This feeling, again, is not in any sense unconscious :
the patient is, of course, only too conscious of it.

But what I want to know is why the effect which the
event produced on the person should be described as if the
original event somehow went on existing and working ? And
I can see no reason for it at all. We do not think it necessary
to talk like that in any other connection. Many events in
this physical world produce permanent results beyond them-
selves. But we do not, except in a very figurative way,
speak of the event as continuing to exist or as going on
happening somewhere. Nor, indeed, would it really be in-
telligible to do so. An event, whether in the physical world
or in conscious experience, when it has once happened is over
and finished. It is not in any sense a thing in itself with a per-
manent existence and a capacity for different kinds of action.
When an event produces a result, the result is something
other than itself and cannot be described in terms which imply
the continued existence of the event which caused the result.

In what terms, then, can we describe the result, in a case
like that which we are considering ? The actual result of
which we can be quite certain is the appearance in the con-
sciousness of the patient from time to time of a particular
emotion in particular circumstances, in this case, the emotion
of fear in enclosed spaces. And from that we conclude
naturally that there is something permanently there in the
nature or characteristics of the person which leads to that
feeling being aroused in these circumstances. That is to
say, we suppose a certain permanent disposition or tendency
to feel fear in enclosed spaces.

Dr. Rivers expresses some scorn of those who assume
psychological dispositions, and declares that they are positing
''purely hypothetical factors, when those open to direct
observation fail them ". This is a curious reproach from an
advocate of the existence of the Unconscious, which is, if
anything is, a purely hypothetical factor and in no conceivable
sense open to direct observation. But in any case it entirely
misconceives the real meaning of the conception of disposi-
tions or tendencies. To begin with, something of the kind
is not a mere hypothesis, but a necessary inference, and one
universally made whenever, for instance, we speak of a man
being bad-tempered without meaning necessarily that he is
at that moment actually feeling anger. But it is also

VALUE OF THE UNCONSCIOUS IN PSYCHOLOGY. 417

necessary to point out that, if we know what we are doing,
we shall not make very exaggerated claims for the idea.
We shall not, for instance, make the claims for it that are
made for the idea of the Unconscious, nor put it forward as
an explanation in the sense in which that idea is put forward.
It says simply that if a human being, or indeed any other
kind of being, behaves in a certain way (using ' behave ' in
the widest sense) from time to time, there must be something
there in the nature of that being which leads or predisposes
him to that kind of behaviour under certain conditions.
There must be a permanent, or relatively permanent, mental
structure, to use Prof. McDougall's phrase, which expresses
itself in that particular kind of mental activity. But of what
sort of thing this mental structure is we know nothing, apart
from the particular kind of activity to which it leads. We
can only speak of it or think of it, as a tendency or disposition
to this or that kind of activity. While mental function
or mental activity we can only know or think of as some kind
of conscious experience.

We cannot, perhaps, even say with any certainty whether
this mental structure is really mental or physical. If we
adopt the latter alternative, we should have to say that a
certain kind of arrangement of the physical structure of the
brain and body is all that is necessary to give rise to certain
kinds of conscious experience in certain surrounding circum-
stances. Such a view could certainly not be dismissed as
untenable. It would, I take it, be held by Prof. Alexander
or by Dr. Bosanquet. It is implied in the remark of the
latter, quoted with approval by the former; "It seems to
me that the fertile point of view lies in taking some neuroses
— not all — as only complete in themselves by passing into a
degree of psychosis ". We might, on the other hand, feel
obliged to maintain that there is something, a definite in-
dividual existent, there which we can call a mind and which
we believe to be made out of some stuff which is definitely
not material and which we can properly speak of as mental
or psychical. In such a case, we should have to suppose
that this mind has certain determinate characteristics which
in given circumstances will lead to a certain kind of conscious
activity. On this view we could never, so far as we can see,
hope to arrive at any kind of knowledge of what this per-
manent structure was like apart from the conscious activity
to which it leads. Whereas if we adopt the former alterna-
tive, we could, I suppose, ideally at least, look forward to an
increase in our knowledge to a point at which we could
know what kind of material pattern in our nervous system

nn

418 G. C. FIELD :

constituted the permanent tendency to this or that kind of
behaviour.

If we adopt the physical view, it is sufficiently obvious
that there is no need and no room for the Unconscious or
unconscious mental processes. Explanation of anything
that takes place in consciousness, which cannot be sufficiently
accounted for by previous events in consciousness, can and
must be looked for in physical processes. And this view
cannot be dismissed lightly. If it is rejected, it can only be
as a result of very careful consideration of very much wider
questions than those which we are now discussing. As a
methodological assumption it will work just as well as the
hypothesis of unconscious mental processes. It is no doubt
true that, at any rate in the present state of our knowledge,
these physical processes are absolutely unknown to us and a
pure assumption. But then so are the supposed uncon-
scious mental processes. And there is this difference
between "them. We may not know anything about the
physical processes in any particular case. But at least we
have in general some idea of the sort of things that we are
assuming. Whereas, if we postulate unconscious mental
processes we have not even any idea of what kind of things
they could be like. As suggested above, if we try to describe
them we inevitably find ourselves using metaphors which
deprive them of just those characteristics which we are most
anxious to assert of them, and describing them as another
set of conscious activities or as material occurrences in space.

The case is rather different if we believe in the existence
of a mind as a separable or distinguishable entity. Here
obviously, we can, with proper precautions, speak of uncon-
scious regions of the mind, indicating by that the mental
structure as opposed to mental function, the permanent dis-
positions or tendencies in the mind which are not at the
moment active, the bad temper of the man who is not angry
at the moment. But these, of course, would be something
very far short of the Unconscious of the ' new ' psychologists,
which is or involves active mental processes.

But besides this, if we suppose a mind, we cannot refuse
to admit the possibility of processes going on in that mind
besides the conscious processes which we are aware of. This
would be the real Unconscious. But, if we assert such pro-
cesses, we can only describe them negatively by saying of
them that they are processes in the mind which are not
conscious. We can have no idea of what their positive
characteristics are, because they cannot be like anything of
which we have any experience.

VALUE OF THE UNCONSCIOUS IN PSYCHOLOGY. 419

But is there really any necessity thus to erect an altar to
the Unknown God ? It is generally claimed that this
necessity arises because we find events in consciousness
which cannot be adequately explained by preceding events in
consciousness. I am not perfectly convinced that the fact is
as stated. In the case of Claustrophobia, for instance, so far
as I can see, all that we know to be there and all that we
need assume is, firstly, an event in consciousness and then
the result which it produces, that is, a lasting effect on the
mental structure of the patient in the form of a disposition
or tendency to another kind of conscious experience, namely,
the emotion of fear in enclosed spaces. But this disposition
or tendency only becomes active when, under the appropriate
stimulus, the emotion is actually felt. I can see no ground
for supposing that there is anything actually occurring, any
active process, involving some kind of change or some series
of events, going on in the mind outside consciousness alto-
gether. Indeed the facts seem to me to tell the other way,
for the reason that the tendency apparently remains un-
changed in character, producing similar results in similar
circumstances, until the patient is cured by the production
of an event which is definitely in his consciousness, i.e., the
recollection of the original event and the realisation of the
connexion of that with the emotion. I would not, however,
assert without much further investigation that all the supposed
cases could be accounted for on these or similar lines. But
even supposing that we are presented with a case in which
it seems necessary to assume that some process actually has
gone on over a period of time which was not, while it was
going on, accessible to consciousness, are we necessarily bound
to assume that this process is a mental one ? If we believe,
as everyone really does in practice, in the interaction of mind
and body, the process may just as well be a physical one.
And the assumption has, as has been pointed out above, at
least the advantage of intelligibility. It is only the dwindling
band of stern and unbending psycho-physical parallelists who
will feel themselves obliged to assume that the process is
mental in character. And even for them, it is necessary once
more to insist, the assumption gives no information and makes
nothing any clearer or more intelligible. It only has to be
put in to preserve intact the metaphysical doctrine of
parallelism.

(2) We come now to the second line of argument. That
is the view that, because an event in the past has been for-
gotten and can- be recalled by certain methods, we must
therefore suppose that the event has been existing all the

420 G. C. FIELD :

time in the unconscious regions of the mind. There is no
doubt that the discovery of these particular methods of re-
calling forgotten events is a discovery of the greatest practical
importance in the diagnosis and treatment of psycho-neuroses.
But for the purposes of this discussion, and in general con-
sidered as throwing light on the fundamental problems of the
nature of mind and experience, it does not appear that there
is any difference in principle between these special cases and
any other case of remembering. There are all possible
degrees of difficulty in recalling different events, and many
different methods by which we can do so. The discovery of
one more method of particular efficacy in certain cases does
not affect the general nature of the processes under dis-
cussion.

The question really resolves itself into this : When an
event has taken place of which we were aware, and we re-
member that event afterwards by whatever method, does
that mean that in any sense the event has continued to exist
in any region of our mind all the time ? I believe that in
this connexion, as in so many others, a great deal of con-
fusion arises from the use of that most dangerous word
1 experience '. In reading Dr. Rivers' book, for instance, I
find him constantly speaking of an unconscious experience
where I should speak of a forgotten past event, with the
apparent implication that the whole event is in some way a
mental occurrence.

With this we are obviously face to face with the great
question of the relation of mind to its objects. In any act of
knowing what is " in " the mind, or mental (for I can con-
ceive of no meaning of the spatial metaphor ' in ' the mind,
except that it is mental in character),1 and what is ' outside '
the mind or physical ? This is, of course, one of the burning
questions of modern Philosophy, and obviously, I cannot
discuss it here. But I mention it because it seems to me
obvious that it is a question on which we must make up our
minds before we can begin to think clearly in Psychology at
all. For surely a science which attempts to describe in any
way the nature of the mind or consciousness or the mental,
is bound to give a clear account of what is mental and what
is not mental in such a typical event as an act of cognition.
Unless we are clear about this we cannot possibly arrive at

1 No doubt on certain views, such as those held by Prof. Alexander, we
can speak of an object having spatial relations to the mind. "In" the
mind, then, would mean strictly in the brain. But, of course, there is na
question of a physical object, of which we are aware, being inside the
brain.

VALUE OF THE UNCONSCIOUS IN PSYCHOLOGY. 421

a clear idea of what kind of thing we believe the mind and
mental processes to be. We cannot get out of it by dis-
missing the question as Metaphysics, just because its solution
demands a considerable amount of effort and hard thinking.

If we take, as I do, a Eealist view of these matters, it is
obvious that it is impossible to accept any description of the
' experience ' as continuing to exist and to act in the mind.
This way of thinking of an ' experience ' as a detached ob-
ject working on its own in this way or that would have
difficulties, I should imagine, for any school of thought.
But the special objection of the Eealist would clearly be
to the failure to distinguish the object known from the
knowing of it. This confusion is particularly easy in the
case of memory. If we see a dog, it needs a considerable
amount of training in certain schools of Philosophy for us to
persuade ourselves that the dog is ' in ' our minds. But when
we remember a dog that we had seen, as the dog is not
obviously ' there,' it is much easier for us to imagine that the
poor animal has somehow fallen into the ' well of memory/
(or got shut up in the ' storehouse '), and that we are now
engaged in fishing him out. It is only when we drop spatial
metaphors, and realise that a thing cannot be ' in ' the mind
unless it is mental in character, that it becomes clear that a
dog or any other object that is not mental when we see it
certainly cannot entirely change its nature and become mental
when we remember it. There are plenty of difficulties and
obscurities in the nature of the process of remembering, on
any theory. But I am perfectly sure that on no theory are
any of these difficulties removed or lessened by supposing
that the object or event remembered is in any sense ' in ' the
mind.

I find this way of thinking constantly appearing in all
attempts to describe the Unconscious, as when we are told
by the Psycho-Analysts that the content of the Unconscious
consists of repressed infantile experiences. No doubt, for
their particular practical purposes these metaphors may be
harmless and even, up to a point, helpful. But when they
are put forward as a serious account of the nature of the
mind or mental processes, they become, in my view, mislead-
ing and mischievous.

I have left myself no space for a detailed examination of
any other case where it is supposed that we must assume
Unconscious mental processes. I think there are few of
them to which some, at any rate, of the above considerations
would not apply. But I cannot help being struck, in reading
the accounts of these cases, by the slightness of the evidence

422 G. c. FIELD:

that seems sometimes to be accepted that the mental process
really is unconscious. After all, with all our tests, we have
in the end to come for our final evidence for the presence or
absence of anything in the consciousness of a person to the
statements of the person himself. And we all know how
easy it is to misdescribe what is really going on in our own
consciousness. This is so even with a perfectly honest at-
tempt ; and when we take into account what Jowett described
as "the amount of good hard lying that goes on in the
world," the statements of a neurotic patient do not seem a
very certain foundation on which to build our conclusions.
Nor, for the matter of that, are the statements of anybody
else in all cases. We most of us at one time or another
know what it is to have thoughts or feelings which we should
be very loath to put into words. But they are none the less
conscious for that. This is really a minor point. But apart
from that, there are, of course, at any moment many things
going on in our consciousness, just as there are many things
in the outside world within our field of vision, on which our
attention is not focussed. We do not, therefore, think about
them ; we do not recognise their implications or connect them
up with the rest of our experience. And, therefore, we often
do not remember that they were there even a few minutes
afterwards. But once more they are certainly conscious pro-
cesses at the time they take place.

These are apparently what Dr. Rivers calls " sub-conscious
processes ". At least, so I judge by his description of these
latter as " processes which only differ from other mental pro-
cesses in the lesser degree of distinctness and clearness with
which they can be observed ". And he criticises those who
speak of such processes as "failing to recognise that they
were only evading a difficulty by clinging to a simulacrum of
the conscious, the existence of which was just as hypothetical
as any of the constructions of the thorough-going advocate
of the Unconscious ". Unless I entirely misunderstand this,
it seems to me really an amazing statement. For it char-
acterises as purely hypothetical the familiar distinction be-
tween the focus and the margin of consciousness, which I
should have called an obvious fact of experience which any-
one of us could verify for himself with the utmost ease. If I
am right, it is clearly a fact of importance for the present
discussion, because it means that there are always a certain
number of conscious processes going on and a certain number
of objects of which we are aware which we may not remember
about at a later time. This makes it impossible to say with
any certainty that conscious processes at one time cannot be

VALUE OF THE UNCONSCIOUS IN PSYCHOLOGY 423

adequately explained by previous processes which were just
as conscious, because we can never be sure about what previous
processes did actually occur. We can never assert positively
that the explanation of anything must be looked for in some-
thing outside the " stream of consciousness " altogether, be-
cause we never have exhaustive knowledge of all that is or
has been in the " stream of consciousness ". And if this is
true it certainly weakens seriously the alleged necessity of
assuming unconscious mental processes as an explanation.

This, then, is a very brief and inadequate outline of my
case against the idea of the Unconscious or of Unconscious
mental processes. I cannot accept it because I cannot attach
any meaning to it and cannot see any necessity for it.
Further, in the modern form, it seems to me to mix up many
things or many problems which ought to be kept separate ;
to confuse, for instance, the problem of the nature of mental
dispositions with that of the nature of the act of memory.
And I believe that it, at any rate in this form, implies a false
view of the nature of mind, of the relation of mind and body,
and of the relation of the knower and the known in an act
of cognition. But I should not like to leave the subject
without a word of tribute to the work of many of the writers
who have advocated this idea. Particularly to Dr. Rivers,
whose book seems to me, if I may say so without impertin-
ence, one of the ablest and sanest of the statements of modern
tendencies in Psychology. Apart from this unfortunate
business of the Unconscious, I have learnt more from it than
from almost any other recent work on these subjects.

II. BY F. AVELING.

I MAY say at the outset of this small contribution to our
symposium that I am largely in agreement with Mr. Field.
When he asks, at the beginning of his paper, whether the
conception of the Unconscious helps us to understand more
clearly what sort of thing the mind is, or what sort of thing
the concrete human being is, I am inclined to believe that it
does not take us very far, and certainly not to the point of
adequate philosophical explanations per causas. But I do
not agree with him in thinking that it leads to a positively
erroneous idea of the nature of the mind and of certain mental
processes. It is true that Mr. Field qualifies his statement
with the words " as it is used by some modern writers ". I
shall not undertake to defend any views that may be held as

424 F. AVELING:

to the Unconscious ; but merely to show that there is a sense
in which the conception may be valid and of service in
psychology. But, in order to do this, it is necessary to
examine at least two of the terms in the enunciation of the
present symposium which need definition ; and with regard
to one of them — the Unconscious itself — Mr. Field finds that
he can attach no meaning to it at all. It may be an un-
fortunate term ; it may have led, and lead, to misunderstand-
ings ; but it has a meaning for empirical psychologists none
the less which it will be my task to consider in the course of
the present paper. I shall use the term " Unconscious,"
then, to signify something which is experiential in character ;
that is to say, something which at one time actually formed
part of experience, and of which the subject of the experience
may also have been aware ; something which, in appropriate
conditions, may (or may again) come to awareness ; some-
thing, however, which is not now part of awareness. To add
to this characterisation of the Unconscious that this some-
thing, not now part of awareness, may only be made part of
awareness by means of methods such as those of psycho-
analysis, is merely to specify a more generic use of the term.
This signification " links up " the Unconscious, by way of the
Sub-conscious and the minimal, with the maximal degree of
awareness. I am not now concerned with that other Un-
conscious which, of its nature, can never directly form part
of awareness at all — that "unconscious psychic" which is
essential or dispositional rather than experiential ; which yet
may be necessary as a concept, as is matter or force in
physics or substance in metaphysics, for a final completion
and explanation of the science of psychology.

A second term which requires definition is " Psychology " ;
for it is used ambiguously. It may mean psychology the
science in the strict sense ; or it may mean psychology in
the older, transcendental and metaphysical sense. Mr. Field
apparently accepts it in the latter of the two meanings. His
universe of discourse is a metaphysical one— and perfectly
legitimately so. But the psychologists who find the concep-
tion of the Unconscious useful in their scientific work, con-
ceive psychology itself in an empirical, non-transcendental
manner. I believe that in such a distinction lies the explana-
tion of the divergence of views as to the value for psychology
of the conception of the Unconscious.

There is no need to turn to the region of abnormal or
pathological psychology for data to support this conception.
Mr. Field appears to allow that it may be of some practical
value there ; and, when he gets to close grips with his topic,

VALUE OF THE UNCONSCIOUS IN PSYCHOLOGY. 425

he examines the case of claustrophobia, cited by Dr. Eivers,
as a sample of one of those " occurrences which are supposed
to be explicable only on such an assumption ". But he
implies elsewhere in his paper that this region of the patho-
logical is debarred to the theoretical psychologist as not
belonging to psychology in the "proper sense". Against
such an implication I may allow myself to make a protest in
passing, on the ground that the abnormal in consciousness is
as much the subject-matter of psychology as is the normal.
If, indeed, the conception of the Unconscious should be one
which arises only in connexion with abnormal processes, it
would still have rights of citizenship within psychology in
the "proper sense". But the conception arises, though
perhaps in a less restricted and technical sense, in psychology
in connexion with the ordinary processes of everyday mental
life ; and it is as useful there as it is anywhere else. So we
may well limit ourselves in our consideration — though I do
not agree that the title of the symposium defines these limits
for us — to an examination of the normal processes of con-
sciousness.

I conceive the starting-point of the science of psychology
to be an examination of the data of consciousness : i.e., aware-
ness ; and its end a statement of the laws of their concomit-
ances and successions. When all the data have been
examined — the " objective contents," and the " static " and
" dynamic " states — and when the laws have been formulated,
it will be found that certain hypothetical elements have been
necessarily introduced to complete and round off the whole
after the manner of a science. But those hypothetical
elements will be — or should be — appropriate to the original
data. They should not, unless it is impossible to complete
the science otherwise, introduce characters which the original
data do not display.

Later on, of course, certain concepts may be introduced
and explanatory theory devised to account for the occurrence
of the data in question ; or for the fact that it has been
found possible to state any "laws" in their regard; or for
the further fact that empirical beliefs have been discovered
among them, the objects of which are trans-empirical. But
that is not, strictly speaking, a matter with which psychology,
considered as a science, has any concern.

What is, however of the greatest importance to observe is
that all the data, or " processes," of consciousness which
come to awareness are, in one respect at least, of exactly the
same character. They are all mental. The object known,
as known, is as much subjective as is the static state of

426 F. AVELING :

pleasure or the dynamic state of intention. The latter are
as much objective as the first. Indeed, none, properly
speaking, as far as they are considered as conscious facts or
processes, can be characterised as either objective or subjec-
tive, except in so far as these are useful categories for the
classification of mental occurrences. They are all without
exception essentially mental in character. From the psycho-
logical point of view, and regarded solely as conscious pro-
cesses, the subject-object distinction seems to be out of place.
Everything is subject, or everything is object, as you please.

If psychology is to be a science, then, it must keep to this
point of view ; for that, after all, is no more than the general
method of science.

We may find a parallel in the physical sciences. In all
these abstraction is made from the fact that the data with
which they deal are in reality mental; and these are con-
sidered as if they had a real existence in a world indifferent
to mind. That is the method of these sciences ; and those
who profess them do not trouble about its justification, which
— as far as they consider it at all — they leave to the philo-
sophers. But, in arranging and explaining the data, con-
sidered thus abstractly, each science keeps to its own point
of view ; each introduces hypothetical elements, where these
are necessary, appropriately similar in kind to the original
data, to complete and round off the whole ; and, finally, each
turns to philosophy for an explanation by trans-empirical
concepts.

Consider, for example, the flight of an arrow, and that of a
bullet fired from a rifle. In the one case, there may be data
observable from the moment when the arrow is fitted to the
bow-string to that when it is fixed in the target. In the
latter case, there may be no such data ; but ballistics assigns
relative position, as part of the hypothetical data, throughout
the whole course of the flight. What has been said as to
completion by hypothetical elements is largely, if not entirely,
true of the physical sciences taken singly. It is altogether
true of them taken as a group. "Physical" occurrences are
observed and related; " physical " laws are formulated; and
the whole is completed with hypothetical " physical " data,
and ultimately with " physical " concepts, the character of
which is strictly non-mental.

Psychology, as a science, pursues a similar method. It
completes its observations and relating of data with hypo-
thetical elements similar in kind to the original data. And
it is here that the conception of the Unconscious naturally
arises. Whatever it is, it must be appropriate to the data ;

VALUE OF THE UNCONSCIOUS IN PSYCHOLOGY. 427

that is, it must be mental, or " conscious ". It is no real ob-
jection to urge against this conception of the Unconscious
that its nature cannot be known, as things are known by
inspection ; for that is true as well of the physical hypothetical
elements — and indeed also of the physical concepts. The
Unconcious can only be known by reflexion upon what it
does. It provides a nexus, or principle, for the explanation
of the processes which occur in awareness. Its nature, then,
will be consonant with these ; and it will be inferred from
these. There is, however, another than the theoretical
reason given above for the assertion of the conception of the
Unconscious. And it is this. The field of awareness itself
is distinguishable into areas or zones of differing degrees of
clearness — or, rather, is continuously differentiated in this
respect from the point of maximal to a margin of minimal
clearness. Direction of the "Attention " can shift the focal
point of clearness from one point of the field to another ;
indeed, can cause to rise into the focus a content which was
not at the moment in the field at all, but in Sub-conciousness
—as when one is trying to recall, and successfully recalls, a
forgotten name. These two observable facts lend support to
the conception of the Unconscious as continuous with aware-
ness and the Sub-conscious, and in some respects, at any rate,
as obeying the same laws. For the unconscious processes
can come to awareness, by the use of appropriate methods,
in a similar way to the Sub-conscious processes, and can be
made to enter the focal point in a way similar to that in
which the marginal processes can.

I am here, of course, referring principally to the Uncon-
scious in the generic sense indicated above, as consisting of
that of which we may or may not have been, but are not now
aware. In the specific, technical and psycho-pathological
sense, the Unconscious cannot thus be directly brought into
the field of awareness by any of the ordinary means at the
disposal of the subject, or patient. Indeed, as Dr. Ernest
Jones points out, " the attempt to explore them (unconscious
processes) and make them conscious is always accompanied
by manifestations of active opposition on the part of the
subject." (Symposium, "Why is the Unconscious uncon-
scious ? " BJ.P., Vol. 9, Part 2, October, 1918.) This refers
to that group of unconscious experiential processes which,
whether racial or personal, apparently lies beyond the power
of translation into awareness, or recall, on the part of the
subject. Yet, even here, these dissociated processes would
still appear to be in continuity with the Unconscious in the
generic sense, since, though they cannot be brought to

428 F. AVELING:

awareness by the patient, they can become processes in
awareness by the use, on the part of the analyst, of methods
by which the active opposition of the patient is overcome.
And the methods used do not appear to involve any new
laws, but only to apply the old ones with good effect.

Mr. Field finds himself unable to accept this conception,
and he puts forward the two alternative views, as at least
conceivable accounts of the matter ; that, on the one hand,
consciousness may depend upon the physical structure of the
brain and body ; on the other, that it may be the function of
a relatively permanent mental structure. Philosophically,
I might agree with him in accepting one of these alternatives.
But the first of these views is inacceptable to the empirical
science of psychology as an explanation, because it goes out-
side the data, and indeed makes use of "data" that not only
are not given, but are even supposed to be of a totally different
character to those that are given. The second view is no
less inacceptable, for it seems to involve the denial that
statements of scientific laws are possible in psychology at all.
If the webs of antecedents and consequents are not complete,
there can be no such statement. I take it that no empirical
psychologist — not even the empirical psychopathologist —
holds of the unconscious processes that they are in everything
identical with those which enter into the region of awareness.
The use of the term Unconscious would negaige any such
supposition. But I take it also that no philosopher would
conceive of " mental structure," and " function " as some-
thing which necessarily precludes the possibility of the
empirical conception. Mental structure might conceivably
underlie both Awareness and Unconsciousness ; and both
might be its function. It appears to me that a very old
philosophical distinction may usefully be applied with regard
to this matter; that the potential must be distinguished
from the actual ; and that the processes which occur in the
region of awareness are the actual analogues of those potential
processes which are held to belong to the region of the Un-
conscious. In how far the potential processes may resemble
the actual seems to me to be a rather otiose question — one
that should not, and certainly need not, be raised. It may
be that they are identical with these save in the property of
being "conscious". To suppose that would be to imagine
these processes in some respect after the manner in which
conscious ideas were imagined in Associationism. It may
be that they resemble them in no such sense at all. Or it
may be that they resemble — I adopt the distinction from Dr.
Bivers's contribution to the symposium already cited — the

VALUE OF THE UNCONSCIOUS IN PSYCHOLOGY. 429

instincts, as contrasted with the " discriminative and in-
telligent " higher processes of awareness.

Now, this last possibility appears to offer some help to-
wards denning the Unconscious in such a way that it will be
acceptable both to the empirically methodological psycholo-
gists and to those whose principal interests lead them to take
a metaphysical view of the question. Every complex of
conscious awareness consists of three discriminable elements
or aspects. In every . conscious complex we may discover
cognition, conation, and affection. It is only by abstraction
that they can be separated, though any one of them may, at
any given moment, dominate the other two. For pure
empirical psychology each of these is an element or aspect
in its own right, and of equivalent value to any other ; for
each is a discriminable element or aspect in the given of that
experience of which we are aware. But there are discover-
able limiting cases in which the cognitive element or aspect
so sinks in intensity that the experiencing subject is hardly,
if indeed at all, aware of it, the while he is actually and
vividly living the experience of an affective state brought
about by a stimulus which is capable of producing both.
Similarly, the cognitive and affective elements or aspects in
a complex may conceivably be minimal — indeed, in certain
phases of the act of choice seem actually to be minimal.
And the effect which a previous volition (as such) now forgotten
(or sunk beneath the level of conscious awareness and
functioning as a " mental set ") has upon subsequent pro-
cesses of awareness is well known. Evidence of this kind is
abundant in such researches as those of Ach, Michotte and
Priim, and others.

But if cognitional awareness can sink to a minimum,
leaving a lived experience of affection ; and if conscious
volition can become unconscious and still influence the pro-
cesses which develop in awareness ; it would seem that we
have some direct evidence that the Unconscious is a valid
conception and a useful one for psychology. For, here again,
the processes of which we are aware and those of which we
are not aware, or have ceased to be aware, seem to obey the
same laws, functioning indifferently as antecedents to the
same sort of consequents, and vice versa. An impulsive act
is in this precisely similar to a voluntary act or to an act of
choice ; the only difference lying in the condition of the
voluntary act (that there is prevision of the end) ; and in
that of the act of choice (that the realisation of the volition
is conditioned by the appearance of the alternatives between
which, and the discussion of the motives according to the

430 F. AVELING:

evaluation of which, it is to be made). But the volition
may not be a conscious one, and generally is not, when
the act of choice takes place. For such reasons as these
all three processes (including the impulsive or instinctive)
have been classified under the head of volitional acts. Now,
instinct is generally supposed to be blind or unconscious in
its teleological character ; yet it is not too much to say that
it has every mark of consciousness, and purposive conscious-
ness, as far as its effects are concerned. So much is this
evident that instinct has been accounted for on the ground
that it is " lapsed intelligence ". Without wishing to adopt
that theory, there would seem to be no reason to reject a
possible view which would make of it a lapsed conscious
awareness of some sort, not unlike that which might be
asserted of a consciously (and, originally volitionally) ac-
quired habit which, later on, comes to be carried out
automatically and unconsciously. Some such line of con-
sideration as this would allow us to link up what I have
distinguished as Unconsciousness in the generic sense with
Unconsciousness in the more specific sense in which the
term is used by the psychopathologists. And thus, by
opposing original instincts and original mere experiences,
together with complexes which have been extruded from
personal awareness by reason of the many and varied sanctions
of 'civilised life, to complexes which have not been so extruded,
we should understand how those conflicts which may issue
in the morbid processes studied in psychopathology come to
be established in the whole mentality.

Instinct, as a native impulsion anterior to all individual
experience, though there may be a cognitive antecedent to
energise it, is certainly not conscious until it has functioned.
But it links up with conscious volitions through, and in
continuity with, "mental set". In otheri words, there is, or
at least can be conceived, a continuity between the volitional
processes which occur in awareness and those which do not
so occur. And this may most easily be conceived as a con-
tinuity of the similar in kind, as well as a continuity due to
the fact that both, again, may be antecedents or consequents
in similar sequences, i.e., both obey similar laws. Whether
actual or potential, then, whether conscious or unconscious,
both cognitive and volitional processes exemplify the same
laws, and may at least be conceived as in some sense similar.

A parallel line of consideration might be pursued with
regard to the affective aspect of the complex ; and on this,
no doubt, the psychoanalysts lay great stress.

But I need not, perhaps, elaborate further than I have

VALUE OF THE UNCONSCIOUS IN PSYCHOLOGY 431

done to show that the conception of the Unconscious has a
value for psychology the science. It is no more than a con-
ception in which sequences which are incomplete to inspec-
tion are completed by the assumption of the existence of
processes or elements of a similar character, barring the one
note of awareness. But these processes or elements can be
made actual even as regards awareness. They may there-
fore be considered as potential processes or elements of
awareness. To explain the facts in any other way than by
assuming potentially empirical data of a similar kind to that
which is given is to step beyond the boundaries of the science.
To assume a mental structure capable of functioning because
of its tendencies is, for the empiricist, either to assert what
has been suggested in this paper or to assert nothing know-
able or verifiable. For what is a tendency, and how can it
be denned save by referring to that actual towards the
realisation of which it is a tendency ? To suppose that
tendencies cause awareness, using the term in its transcen-
dental sense, or that the mental structure causes awareness
through its tendencies, seems, from an empiric point of view,
to have far less meaning than to suppose that a hypothetical
Unconsciousness causes awareness in the scientific accepta-
ton of the word cause. For transcendental causes cannot
be observed.

And further the criticism aimed at the theory in question
by Mr. Field — that it leads to the conception " of the Uncon-
scious as of another conscious person of exactly the same
kind as the conscious personality we know, which exists
alongside it and every now and then affects it in some way
or other, so that to explain an event by referring it to the
Unconscious becomes just the same kind of explanation as
to say that something was done by John Jones instead of by
Tom Smith," — can only be a valid criticism if it does in fact
necessarily lead to such a conception. And it does not, I
suggest, lead to that at all if the whole matter is treated
empirically ; though I admit that it may lead to it if aware-
ness and Unconsciousness and cause are taken in their meta-
physical implications.

It can only be because Mr. Field takes the transcendent-
alist point of view here, and credits empiricists with taking
it also, that any such apparent difficulty arises. If Tom
Smith who, for the empirical psychologist, is the sum total
of processes occurring in awareness, be completed empirically
by the sum total of ''unconscious" processes which, simi-
larly, are John Jones, the addition of the two will not
constitute two "persons," but one complete phenomenal

432 F. AVELING:

consciousness — Thomas John Jones-Smith. Indeed, there
would not be even one " person " so constituted ; for it could
hardly be asserted that a phenomenal consciousness, no
matter how complete, was a " person ". But this conception
has, none the less, the advantage of remaining within (at
least theoretically possible) empirical limits, and of providing
a ground for the establishing of scientific concomitances and
sequences, without the necessity of having recourse to meta-
physical notions.

I do not wish it to be understood that I in any way imply
a denial that metaphysical conceptions may be necessary for
a final explanation of the facts. Mental structure and ten-
dencies, brain and body — or, better perhaps, the substantial
individual which we call " man " — may, in the last resort,
be the only principle by which the occurrence of experience,
or awareness, can be accounted for at all. I believe that to
be so ; that psychology, like any other science, must be com-
pleted by philosophy ; and that its data must be ultimately
interpreted by means of metaphysical concepts. But I also
hold that it is, or can be treated as, a science. And, in that
aspect, it would appear that a good case can be made out
for the conception of the Unconscious.

In the course of the present paper I have made use of
spatial metaphors, and therefore have come under the con-
demnation of Mr. Field that there is clearly something
wrong with my conception of the mental. My plea must be
that the metaphors in question are convenient ones ; that
analogies are not out of place in treating a matter of this
kind; and that " levels," "regions," etc., are given within
experience — else there could be no awareness of them at all.
Moreover I have not used them with a spatial implication.
They are metaphors. In a similar (though again not, of
course, in a spatial way) Mr. Field himself uses the meta-
physical conception of "activity" to justify his conception
of " mental structure," as expressing itself in a particular
kind of activity. That also seems to be a metaphorical use
of the term ; and it, too, would be impossible unless some
such thing as the " consciousness of action " were given in
experience.

I am also conscious of the fact that, in drawing the dis-
tinction between the potential and the actual, I may be met
with the objection that I am going beyond the data of ex-
perience, and attempting to solve a difficulty as a realist
might attempt to solve the difficulty of the problem which
arises as between things and things known. But I do not
consider that to be a serious objection.

VALUE OF THE UNCONSCIOUS IN PSYCHOLOGY 433

I ain suggesting throughout that the Unconscious is a
useful conception in the science of psychology. To do this
I have endeavoured to point out that something must be
supposed in the place of processes which do not occur in
awareness to explain what sometimes (indeed generally) does
happen in awareness. I have underlined the conception of
psychology as an empirical science, and pointed out that it
must be governed by the method that is imposed upon
sciences which profess to be empirical. I have put forward
instances to explain why the Unconscious is postulated as a
conception to complete the science of psychology without
doing violence to its method. And I believe that the evi-
dence which I have submitted is sufficient to justify the con-
ception as both legitimate and of value in that sense in which
it may be applied to, and used as explicative of, the observed
facts.

III. BY JOHN LAIKD.

AT this time of day, and with present fashions what they
are, it may seem absurd even to raise the question of our
symposium. The triumphs of the New Psychology — as
exciting, we are told, as The Origin of Species — may seem
to have answered it beyond all cavil, so that objections are
futile and doubts cttmodt.

This view, I believe, is profoundly misleading. The new
psychologists, to be sure, assume the existence of the un-
conscious, both as a storehouse and as a factory ; they profess
to discover significant and thrilling contrasts between its
more accessible and its darker regions — all of which is, some-
how, vastly important. This, however, does not prove that
the unconscious is a valuable conception. Properly speaking,
indeed, it may not be a conception at all. Is it intelligible?
Is it regulative ? Does it compel any specific deductions ?
Does the evidence imply it logically ? So far as I can see,
the new psychologists need not answer -any one of these
questions in the affirmative, and their discussions of all of
them are either perfunctory or non-existent. Fundamentally,
this notion, such as it is, seems to be only permissive in use.
The new psychologists need to assume something retentive
and capable of various developments ; something, moreover,
which, quite plainly, is not conscious and yet seems to play
an important (and perhaps a dominant) part in our mental
history. This they call the ' unconscious,' and we need not

28

434 JOHN LAIRD :

quarrel with them for doing so ; but there is a case for
dispute, surely, if this negative name is used to conceal and
not to assert our ignorance, if this permissive thing is pro-
claimed to be a key-conception, if this nest of problems is
taken to be a squadron of solutions to them, and if positive
properties are assigned to an enigmatic somewhat for no
better reason than simple light-heartedness.

If this be so, it is plain that the subject of our symposium
really is important — and important for reasons that have no
peculiar connexion with metaphysics. In its permissive sense,
the unconscious is not even a working hypothesis. It is only
a proclamation that the work is to go On irrespective of
certain theoretical difficulties ; but if it were a working hy-
pothesis, it would still be the duty of empirical psychologists
to examine it with the utmost rigour. The approach to the
sciences is decked with bright ideas, but there is no science
until these ideas are put to the proof. The evolution of
species, say, or the transmutation of the elements had to be
thought out in order to become something more than an
attractive and stimulating notion, and it would be foolish
of us to expect that the growth and the sublimations of the
' unconscious ' will reveal themselves, in a fury of infantile
'exhibitionism,' to more impatient eyes.

Our problem, of course, is not the value of the New Psy-
chology, but the specific value of the New Unconscious ;
and although explanation would be needed, it would be quite
consistent to hold that the former is epoch-making and the
latter pernicious. Keeping to the latter, then, we have to
ask whether any intelligible notion of the unconscious can
be put forward, and, if so, what. I can make nothing of
Mr. Aveling's ' experiential ' somewhat, of which we may
also have been aware, which responds so amiably when we
' link it up,' but fails to recognise the difference between
being an experience and having been one. Therefore, with
regret, I turn to other theories, and apart from vague and
irrelevant references to Leibniz's petites perceptions and the
like, I find that the favourite account of the unconscious is
the one which Mr. Field has quoted from Dr. Jones. Thus
Bleuler x states that he ' understands by the unconscious all
those operations which are in every respect similar to the
ordinary psychic ones with the exception that they cannot
become conscious ' ; and many of the others say the same
thing.

This definition really is preposterous. It is just like Mr.

1 Quoted by Varendonck, The Psychology of Day-Dreams, p. 19.

VALUE OF THE UNCONSCIOUS IN PSYCHOLOGY. 435

Churchill's ' cannibals in all respects except the act of de-
vouring the flesh of the victims'. It is worse than epi-
phenomenalism. As we all know, our consciousness is only
a part of a complicated pattern of processes, very imperfectly
known, although known to have some connexion with the
cortex and, in certain cases, to have more specific connexions
with definite cortical areas and with the optic thalamus. 5 It
is therefore a permissible, although a rash and improbable
view that consciousness is only the upholstery of this self-
moving machine, and that the combustion engine is outside
consciousness altogether, but it is not at all permissible to
contend that there is really no difference in the case. What
in the world would consciousness be if it had no shreds of
character of its own? And is there anything in nature
which, so to speak, is pure character, although devoid of
distinctive character, wholly bereft of power, and incapable
even of indicating that it has some peculiar properties and
effects of its own ? Surely there is irony in the thought
that this grotesque resurrection should follow the obsequies
of epiphenomenalism so promptly and so confidently — irony
and something more.

I should like to call attention, too, to another remarkable
circumstance in the present affair, and I shall try to eluci-
date it by referring again to Dr. Jones. A propos of Freud's
'metapsychology,' this author, after referring to Freud's
' convincing logic ' in support of the unconscious, proceeds
to say that Freud also raises ' the difficult question of the
precise difference between an unconscious idea and a conscious
one, and what happens when the former is converted into
the latter'.1 What puzzles me is the state of mind of anyone
who does not see that this ' difficult ' question is the same
question precisely as the easy one. An ' unconscious ' that
has not made up its mind about the ' difficult ' question is
simply a pattern in ink, and our problem, as I understand
it, is, quite precisely, whether any sort of intelligible answer
could be given to this single question — whether it be easy
or whether it be difficult.

Some of the difficulties in the case, I think, may be easily
exaggerated. One might try to score a debating point, for
example, by pointing out that although the similarity between
the conscious and the unconscious is the burden of these
definitions, the difference between the two is commonly
taken to be the most important result of the New Research.
This apparent contradiction, however, is less formidable than

1 British Journal of Psychology (Medical Section) Vol. i., Pt. i., p. 65.

436 JOHN LAIED:

it seems. It is only opposites of the same kind that can,
properly speaking, be contrasted. We contrast red with
green, not with the multiplication table. And although the
point needs clearing up, especially in view of the numerous
psycho-analytic ' explanations ' which make the unconscious,
reputed a-logical, behave (on occasion) in a thoroughly
reasonable manner, it need not involve a flat contradiction.

Again, there is no demonstrable contradiction in the general
term ' unconscious mind ' if this term means simply ' that in
the mind which is de facto unconscious '. No doubt it is
easy to manufacture hopeless difficulties of this kind (as
Mr. Aveling does when he says that the unconscious must
be ' mental or " conscious " '), but usually, when we speak of
a mind, we ascribe dispositions, tendencies, potentialities, and
capacities to it. These are dangerous terms, to be sure, but
they are not unmeaning, and the facts they purport to de-
scribe are seldom, if ever, conscious facts. On the other
hand, the New Unconscious, so far as I can see, has neither
elucidated these conceptions, nor added to them on any point
of principle. The New Psychology, we may concede, has
shown that we have many tendencies which were hitherto
unsuspected or ignored, and that many of our dispositions
have sinuous, sinister, and surprising effects. But this is
another story, however important it may be. The results
of the new psychology would neither be altered nor gainsaid
if the new unconscious were in fact physiological, or even if
consciousness itself were ultimately a quality that our nerves
can sometimes assume.

In saying that terms like capacities or dispositions are not
unmeaning, I do not wish to assert that they are indispensable
from every point of view. If, for example, the concept of
' mnemic causation ' could be accepted and it were agreed
that a remote event might be the immediate antecedent of
a present process, much that is plausible in these concepts
would cease to be so. The need for ' traces ' would disappear,
and the ripening and developing of these dispositions would
be the only circumstance that required attention. In view
of what we learn about time from modern physics it would
be rash to flout this possibility ; but if we assume, with
common sense, that an idea which has been followed by
other ideas cannot have any direct influence after the interim,
we are forced to assume some sort of continuing disposition
in order to bridge the gap. On the other hand, we simply
do not know what this disposition is either in ordinary
' foreconscious ' memory or, let us say, in Dr. Rivers's case
of claustrophobia, any more than we can say what the

VALUE OF THE UNCONSCIOUS IN PSYCHOLOGY. 437

knavery of a sleeping rascal actually is. All that we know
is that the rascal would be a slippery customer under other
circumstances.

It follows, however, that we may speak, thoroughly intel-
ligibly (although barbarously), of unconscious ' trends ' and
* impulsions ' and ' urges ' as well as of unconscious ' com-
plexes ' of these ; for these terms mean only that there is
something persistent but unknown which is capable, with or
without internal development and rearrangement, of forming
a specific bond of connexion between certain vanished ideas
and emotions on the one hand, and, on the other hand, cer-
tain other ideas and emotions which appear after an interim.
It may very well happen, however, that there is no intelligible
meaning in speaking of unconscious wishes, or desires, or
memories, or expectations, or intentions, or emotions, or re-
solves, or ideas, and I wish to consider this question in some-
what greater detail.

The theories of the Behaviourists — whom I take to be the
Newest Psychologists — have shown us, no doubt, that a cer-
tain meaning (perhaps even a certain precision) can be at-
tached to these terms provided we admit that there is no
such thing as consciousness. This, however, is precisely
what many of us cannot admit at all. We recognise,, of
course, that our consciousness is intimately allied with bodily
reactions, and perhaps that it could not arise without an
affector beginning, or persist without an effector continuation ;
but we do not and cannot admit that the only, difference be-
tween being awake and being ansesthetised is a difference in
bodily reactions, or that human happiness or human misery
would be worth a moment's consideration unless they were,
most emphatically, conscious happiness and conscious misery.
If this be so — if consciousness and unconsciousness are, quite
certainly, not the same — it is quite impossible, I think, to
qualify any of the terms I have mentioned by the adjective
' unconscious ' without stultifying ourselves completely ; and
Behaviourism does not help us in this particular.

On the other hand, there are certain distinctions within
consciousness which may seem to throw light on the problem,
and these require most careful scrutiny. The chief of them,
I think, are the distinctions between reflective self-conscious-
ness and consciousness simpliciter, between consciousness
which is connected and consciousness which is dispersed,
between focal and marginal consciousness, and between
schematic and detailed consciousness. I shall examine these
distinctions, then, in this order.

(1) There is an idea abroad, often left unchallenged, that a

438 JOHN LAIRD:

man is conscious only of that which he avows to himself
upon reflexion. This idea seems to me simply false. For
the most part, it is true, we have a general, un examined,
uninterrogated notion of the way our thoughts are drifting,
but self-conscious avowal or reflective self-questioning is the
exception and not the rule. It is beside the point, therefore,
to urge that a man may do shady things without admitting
to himself that they are shady.1 Of course he may, but it
does not follow that these actions were unconscious. All
that follows is that the man did not consider or did not notice
some of their moral aspects. Unselfconscious thinking,
similarly, may and does occur ; but it is unconscious conscious-
ness, not uns0Z/-conscious consciousness, that is the trouble.
This distinction, consequently, does not seem to help us.

(2) Each of us knows, from the plainest experience, that
the course of his thoughts is sometimes tense and concen-
trated, sometimes rambling, ambling and dispersed. The
player's wits are fiercely preoccupied ; the spectator's thoughts
may go wool-gathering or building castles in Spain ; and
drugs like scopolamine (or mere sleepy-headedness for that
matter) turn all our ideas into bemused stragglers. This,
however, is no proof that the stragglers are unconscious. It
proves only that they are out of the ranks; and if the
stragglers, as in the Beauchamp case, sometimes mass them-
selves into loosely organised bands of their own, this, in itself,
need not affect the general principle.

No doubt, if we could show, as the new psychology has
gone a long way towards showing, that there are some definite
laws for the stragglers' wanderings, our results would be very
important, but they need not affect the question before us.
To say that dispersed ideas are ' split off ' is only to say that
our thoughts are disconnected. In this sense, and in this
sense only, ideas may be ' split off' into groups, blind for the
time being to one another's existence (as in ' alternating
personalities ' and the like), and, of course, there is no logical
contradiction in supposing an infinity of co-conscious trains
of ideas connected with every living body, just as there is no
contradiction in supposing an infinity of invisible auras round
every human head, or an infinity of guardian angels sustain-
ing and controlling every human life. These suggestions,
however, leave the problem of the ' unconscious ' precisely
where it was. The difficulty about co-consciousness is not
that it is unthinkable but that the evidence for it is lacking.
We are told that it is there, and when we go into the ques-

1 Cf. Russell, The Analysis of Mind, p. 32.

VALUE OF THE UNCONSCIOUS IN PSYCHOLOGY. 439

tion, we find that only one consciousness is in the house at
any given time, and that the other must be supposed to be
concealed somewhere in the neighbourhood. It will come if
you * tap,' if you open its coffin, if you make the proper
mesmeric passes. Meanwhile, however, it is not there
(although you think it is doing something) and when it is
there you may look in vain for the other housemate.1

This way of speaking, to be sure, would be quite legitimate
if we were dealing with things like Mr. Aveling's bullet
which remain the same whether they are present to our ex-
perience or not. The trouble about ideas, and wishes, and
the like, however, is precisely that they do not seem to be
anything at all, except when they are present conscious facts.
A dead body is at least a corpse, but a vanished idea is simply
nothing. It was and is not, just as that glorious putt which
you made last year was and is not. To be sure, this putt of
blessed memory had important after effects. You have never
been the same man since ; but you need not suppose, surely,
that you have been putting ever since, in your bed and at
your meals, or, if not putting, then quasi-putting, or putting
' minimally,' in a word unputtingly. And although you may
say that you often miss your putts because of the co-putting
that is going on inside you, you need not expect to convince
everyone that you are either ' scientific ' or ' empirical ' when
you say such things. Instead of that you are a 'meta-
physician ' of the baser sort, for you are trafficking in occult
verbiage.

Therefore, I do not think that this distinction between
concentrated and dispersed proves what it is supposed to
prove.

(3) The distinction between the ' centre ' and the ' margin '
of ' consciousness ' is a matter of empirical observation, and
any psychologist who neglects the margin does so without
excuse. What is more, the outskirts of this fringe are un-
doubtedly nebulous and impalpable. It is probable, there-
fore, that the margin reaches further than we commonly
think, and certain that we cannot usually tell precisely where

1 A certain type of co-consciousness, no doubt, is quite familiar in
ordinary experience, e.g., when, brushing my coat, I look out for a tramway
car and converse with a friend the while. There is sufficient evidence,
too, of a certain exaggeration of facts of this kind, in some of Janet's
hysterical patients. This, however, does not seem to me to affect the
principle of what I have said, and Dr. Prince's specific attempt to prove
literal co-consciousness (i.e., two completely distinct mental series, con-
nected with the same body, both of which are actually conscious at pre-
cisely the same moment) seems to me to be inconclusive. (See The
Dissociation of a Personality, pp. 321-322.)

440 JOHN LAIED :

it stops. This circumstance, however, carries us but a very
short way. If we cannot discern where precisely our vision
ends, we do not conclude, on this account, that we can see
with the back of our heads. Indeed we know, in this case,
that the margin does not extend very far. Similarly we
recognise, in this case, that there is a perfectly definite and
inescapable difference between the things that are about to
be seen, or that we may readily see, and the things that we
actually do see, marginally or otherwise. I do not wish to
argue that the penumbra of visual consciousness is precisely
similar in all relevant respects to all other conscious
penumbrse, but I see no reason for supposing any profound
difference in principle, and until some such reason is shown
I shall continue to believe that (although there may be
limited debatable regions) in general we have quite sufficient
reasons for asserting the absence of consciousness as well as
for asserting its presence, that we have no reason whatever
for using the ' margin ' as a dumping ground for anything
which our theories may happen to find convenient, and that,
in so far as the ' fore-conscious ' simply describes things
which we may readily call to mind, it need not be marginal
at all.

(4) The terms ' marginal ' and ' schematic' are not equi-
valent (although the margin is schematic and not detailed),
because the whole of my consciousness, both centre and
fringe, may be vague and schematic. Cases of this sort
abound. The novel which as yet is but dimly foreshadowed
in the intense inane, the mot juste which seems so near to us
and is yet so hard to attain, the oration which, before it is
made, is only a sort of dim glow in our souls — these and
similar experiences offer unmistakable instances; and it is
easy to misinterpret them. No one seriously believes, I
fancy, that my schematic notion, say, of the Vedanta, actually
contains the Vedanta, implicitly or otherwise. Even to
suppose so would be to suppose nonsense. The Vedanta is
not ' buried ' in this grave ; but many seem to suppose that
if my schema of a novel turns into a novel, or my schema of
an oration turns into an oration, then, somehow or other, the
novel or the oration was unconsciously present in the schema
all the time ; and if the schema seems to hover over some-
thing momentarily forgotten but familiar to the feeling,
nearly everyone speaks of buried and familiar ideas struggling
to see the light of conscious day.

In my view, the schema of the familiar forgotten thing no
more contains the familiar forgotten thing, buried and
struggling, than my schema of the Vedanta contains the

VALUE OF THE UNCONSCIOUS IN PSYCHOLOGY. 441

Vedanta, buried and struggling. The schema of my oration,
so carefully planned beforehand, guides me as I speak ; it
feels familiar, perhaps, and even satisfactory ; it feels different
from other schemata of other orations ; but it is not the
oration itself and it does not contain the oration. There is
no oration until I give it, no idea until I think one, no ex-
pression until the expression comes. The schema (which
we may suppose, for simplicity's sake, to be the whole fact
of consciousness when I begin my oration), may prompt me
continuously as I go on to explain myself in detail, and the
oration may be a logical or associative development from this
schematic nucleus ; but this is no proof, or even the begin-
nings of a proof, that these subsequent ideas or expressions
literally possessed a previous existence of any kind. A
schematic idea is just a vague glimpse, and a vague glimpse
does not embrace details, metaphorically or otherwise.

These contrasts within consciousness, therefore, neither
compel us to admit the ' unconscious ' (or a ' buried ' and
' concealed ' consciousness) nor elucidate the manner in which
an idea, or wish, or intention could be unconscious and still
be itself ; and I do not think that more helpful suggestions
than these ones are to be found. In particular, Mr. Aveling's
suggestion that feelings or emotions may persist a-cognitively
seems to me quite useless and forlorn. It is simply a mistake,
I think, to use ' consciousness ' and ' cognition ' as convertible
terms, or to suppose that the tripartite division is a division
of anything except conscious states ; and the best psycho-
logists deny the existence of blind strivings or sightless feel-
ings. These phrases, it is true, may describe something but
they do not describe conation or feeling-tone.

What I have been saying, I think, is not at all 'meta-
physical '. It might be better if it were, but it is not ; and
the point which I wish to make in conclusion, while it
traverses Mr. Aveling's definitions of ' psychology,' implies
nothing more recondite than common sense. In speaking
of ' consciousness ' and its ' margin ' and so forth, I have
been using current phrases which are plainly elliptical ; and
my argument has lost something of clearness on this account.
Strictly speaking, of course, the ' margin of my conscious-
ness ' is the * margin of the field of which I am conscious ' ;
and so in other cases. What I remember, for example, is a
past event of which I am at present conscious ; what I ex-
pect is a future event which I believe to be about to occur ;
and what I call an ' idea ' describes a complex state of affairs
in which a conscious process on my part — an event in my
psychological history — is cognitively related to some other
event which may have occurred or may be about to occur at

442 JOHN LAIRD : VALUE OF UNCONSCIOUS IN PSYCHOLOGY.

an earlier or at a later date than this conscious process of
mine, and which may or may not be part of my own life-
history.

Plainly, then, the problem of memory is not how a past
event has persisted or what a future event is now, but how
I can look back at a past event or (in any way) look forward
to a future one. This 'looking,' it is clear, is not past look-
ing or future looking, but looking at the past or looking at
the future. It occurs just when it does occur. It is a flash
which does not persist, although, as is usual in the case of
flashes, a similar flash may recur. The past event to which
we return in memory, on the other hand, is over and done
with when we look back at it ; and it remains over and done
with however frequently we look back at it.

Now the process of looking, whether forwards or back-
wards or under our noses, is a passing event and logically
similar to any other passing event (say the passing event of
walking or jumping), and although these events have conse-
quences for our subsequent history, it is nonsense to say
that they persist. We learn to walk by walking and to jump
by jumping, but no one supposes, on this account, that in-
visible processes of unwalking walking and of unjumping
jumping, and of every other action that we learn to perform,
must continue without a moment's intermission in order to
account for the fact of learning; or that the people who
learn to ' skate in summer ' spend the whole of the cricket
season practising a ' buried ' course of unpatinating patina-'
tions. Whatever goes on, it is not this, and I should be
sorry for the physiologist who did not try to find out what
really does go on. The psychologist, no doubt, has a harder
task, and he has a much better excuse for taking refuge in
metaphors, but he ought not to take metaphors literally,
whatever the provocation ; and although the use of these
metaphors may not seriously affect a great many of his en-
quiries, there is an ugly look about them even when they
seem to be harmless. So far as I can see, unconscious con-
sciousness is in precisely the same position, logically, as
unthinking thinking, or unwalking walking, and we have no
more right to say that wishes or ideas are unconscious, or
that ' something of the same nature ' is unconscious, or that
' something similar in all respects except in the respect of
being conscious ' is unconscious than we have for asserting
that walking goes on when we do not walk, or that ' some-
thing of the same nature ' goes on, or that ' something goes
on which is identical with walking in all respects except in
being pedestrian '.

It is worth our while, I think, to remember this.

III.— ARE HISTORY AND SCIENCE DIFFERENT
KINDS OF KNOWLEDGE?1

A SYMPOSIUM BY B. G. COLLINGWOOD, A. E. TAYLOK,

AND R C. S. SCHILLEE.

I. BY K. G. COLLINGWOOD.

FEOM the point of view of the theory of knowledge or logic,
must a distinction be drawn between two kinds of knowledge
called respectively History and Science ?

Such a distinction is usually made : we shall argue that it
is illusory. It is implicit 2 in the whole drift of the Platonic
philosophy, though Plato nowhere, I think, states it clearly.
But Aristotle not only states it, but states it in a way which,
though only incidental, implies that it is familiar. In a well-
known passage of the Poetics he remarks that poetry is more
scientific3 than history, because poetry deals with the uni-
versal, for instance, what a generalised type of man would
do on a generalised type of occasion (and this, he implies, as
knowledge of the universal, is science) , whereas history deals
with particular facts such as what, on a particular occasion,
a particular person said. History is thus the knowledge of
the particular.

I. The distinction between history as knowledge of the
particular and science as knowledge of the universal has
become common property and is in general accepted without
question. We propose to criticise it : and as a preliminary,
we shall indicate two difficulties which we shall not follow
up.

1 Contributed to the Joint Session of the Mind Association and the
Aristotelian Society at Manchester, July 14th-16th, 1922.

2 1 would suggest, for instance, that just so far as Mr. H J. Paton
(Proc. Arist. Soc., 1922, pp. 69 seqq.) is right in identifying eiVacrta in
Plato with art, so far TTIO-TIS is to be identified with history, as cognition
of the actual, but only yiyvopevov, individual.

3<£iXoo-o<£o>repoi>. I need hardly remind the reader that what we call
science Aristotle regularly calls <£tXoo-o<£ia, a usage long followed in this-
country and criticised rather spitefully by Hegel. What we nowadays
(having given in to Hegel) call philosophy Aristotle calls <ro$ia,
or

444 R. G. COLLINGWOOD: AEE HISTORY AND SCIENCE

(a) It implies a metaphysical distinction between two kinds
of entity, a particular and a universal, such that any cognition
may be knowledge of the one in isolation from the other.
This dualism is precisely the doctrine which Plato attacked
in the Parmenides when he pointed out that the universal,
thus distinguished from the particular as a separate object,
loses just its universality and becomes merely another par-
ticular. The mediaeval nominalists attacked it again, in the
form in which the realists held it : and Berkeley once more
attacked it in the doctrine of abstract ideas. Any one of
these three arguments could be directed with disastrous
effect on the metaphysical groundwork of the distinction
between history and science : but we shall not undertake
this task because the arguments in question are purely
destructive, and like all destructive arguments would be
waved aside as mere examples of the * difficulties ' which
seem only to stimulate the faith of the believer.

(b) We might drop metaphysics and appeal to experience,
which clearly enough shows the instability of such a dualism.
Wherever people have distinguished science and history as
different kinds of knowledge they have tended to degrade
one into the position of a pseudo-knowledge and to erect the
other into the only real knowledge.

(i) In Greek thought science or knowledge of the universal
is real knowledge and history or knowledge of the particular
is only half-knowledge. For Plato the particular is midway
hetween being and not-being, and therefore our best possible
cognitions of it are midway between knowledge and igno-
rance. They are not knowledge : they are mere opinion.
For Aristotle the qualification of poetry as more scientific
than history implies that poetry (and therefore a fortiori
science) comes nearer to satisfying the ideal of knowledge
than history does. This position became traditional, and
crops out in a curious way in the nineteenth century. It
was common in that period to propose that history should
be elevated to the rank of a science : which meant that it
had hitherto not been a science because it only recognised
the particular, but that now this reproach was to be removed,
and after a long apprenticeship spent in the proper Baconian
way in collecting facts history was to be promoted to the
task of framing general laws, and thereby converted into a
science fit to take its place among the other sciences like
•chemistry and mechanics. This proposal, to redeem history
from its degraded infra-scientific position, became part of the
regular programme of nineteenth-century empiricism and
positivism, and the science into which it was to be converted

DIFFERENT KINDS OF KNOWLEDGE? 445

was variously entitled Anthropology, Economics, Political or
Social Science, the Philosophy of History, and Sociology.

(ii) The opposite tendency has been late in appearing, but
it has made amends for its lateness. The chief feature of
European philosophy in the last generation has been that
movement of reaction from nineteenth-century positivism
which has tended to degrade science into a false form of
knowledge and to find the true form in history. The meta-
physical notion of reality as process, movement, change, or
becoming has had its reverse (perhaps really its obverse) side
in an epistemology which places history at the centre of
knowledge. In this, implicitly if not explicitly, the schools
of Mach, of Bergson, of James, and of Croce agree : and
even more plainly they agree in holding that science is not
knowledge at all but action, not true but useful, an object of
discussion not to epistemology but to ethics. Any cognition
(such seems to be the Berkeleian principle common to these
schools) must be of the particular, and must therefore be
history : what is called a cognition of the universal cannot
be a cognition at all but must be an action. They do not
all intend by this analysis to ' degrade ' science in the sense
of denying its value : for it is, they maintain, useful : what
they deny is simply its truth.

Experience shows the difficulty of keeping the balance
even and the temptation to identify the genus knowledge
with one of its species, thereby reducing the other to the
position of an expedient towards knowledge or an inferior
kind of knowledge. But no one who really wishes to main-
tain the dualism will let this deter him. Grant that every one
from Plato to Croce has failed to maintain it, lie will not fail
but will stand by the very simple doctrine that knowledge
is a genus with two species : knowledge of the particular,
history, and knowledge of the universal, science. This
simple faith in the possibility of maintaining a dualism by
sheer will-power, undeterred by the spectacle of the bleaching
bones of previous adventurers, is left untouched by the ex-
pressions of a disillusioned scepticism. We shall not pursue
this line of criticism, but shall try simply to describe how
the scientist and the historian work, in order to see whether
we can detect a fundamental difference between them.

II. It is commonly assumed that what the scientist does,
in virtue of which he is a scientist, is to generalise. Every-
thing else which he may do, it is thought, is (in so far as he
is a scientist) a means to this end. When it is achieved his
work is done and there is nothing more for him to do ex-
cept to go on and frame a new generalisation. That is the

446 E. G. COLLINGWOOD : AEE HISTORY AND SCIENCE

meaning of the common saying that science is the know-
ledge of the universal. Is it true ?

As a common opinion it may be countered with another.
Generalisations can be learnt by hearsay or reading : for
instance, you may learn by heart the list of fossils character-
istic of a certain horizon by simply getting them up from a
book. Now common opinion holds that a man may be
book-learned in a science and yet incompetent in it. A
geologist may know the names of fossils, but if we find on
putting him down in front of an actual landscape or in an
actual quarry that he cannot give us a geological account of
this particular object, we say that he is an impostor. He
can repeat, it may be, all the generalisations which (we
generally think) constitute the corpus of geological science,
but if he cannot apply them he is no geologist.

Friends and enemies of the natural sciences agree in
thinking the application of generalisations to be characteristic
of them, and so it is, but not in quite the way that is
generally thought. ' Science ' is praised or despised for its
practical or economic value, and the geologist is respected
or scorned for being able to tell us where to look for coal.
It is implied that geology means not merely knowing gener-
alities but interpreting particular facts in the light of these
generalities : being able to say * my geological learning leads
me to believe that there is coal just below this sandstone '.
And it is implied that the person who says this is more
entitled to the name of geologist than one who just reels off
general statements.

The common view of science as essentially useful or
utilitarian is not wholly erroneous ; it conceals an important
truth, namely that a, scientist is only a scientist evepyeia when
he is interpreting concrete facts in the light of his general con-
cepts, and that the framing of these concepts, if regarded as
something distinct from the application of them, is not the
end of science but the means. The geologist evepyeia is the
man who is occupied not in repeating, nor even in inferring,
generalised truths, but in looking at country with a geologist's
eye, understanding it geologically as he looks at it, or
' applying ' his geological concepts to the interpretation of
what he sees. To possess these concepts without so applying
them is not (as the view which identifies science with
generalisation would imply) to be an actual geologist, but
only at most to be a potential geologist, to possess the tools
of a geologist without using them. But we are here in
danger of a serious mistake. The potential geologist is only
a mythological abstraction : he cannot really exist : for where

DIFFERENT KINDS OF KNOWLEDGE? 447

the ' tool ' is a concept and the ' use ' of it is the interpretation
of individual fact by its means, the tool cannot be possessed
in idleness. That would be to strain the metaphor. Inter-
pretation is not the employment of a previously-constructed
tool (concept) upon a separately-given material (fact) : neither
the concept nor the fact is ' possessed ' (thought and observed
respectively) except in the presence of the other. To possess
or think a concept is to interpret a fact in terms of it : to
possess or observe a fact is to interpret it in terms of a con-
cept.

Science is this interpretation. To live the life of a scientist
consists in the understanding of the world around one in
terms of one's science. To be a geologist is to look at land-
scape geologically : to be a physiologist is to look at organ-
isms physiologically, and so on. The object which the
scientist cognises is not ' a universal,' but always particular
fact, a fact which but for the existence of his generalising
activity would be blank meaningless sense-data. His activity
as a scientist may be described alternatively as the under-
standing of sense-data by concepts, or the realising of con-
cepts in sensation, ' intuiting ' his thoughts or ' thinking out '
his intuitions. In this process he recognises the objects be-
fore him as being of this or that kind : and sometimes this
recognition results in the discovery that they are economic-
ally valuable, that is, it serves as a basis for action. That
is the truth which underlies the idea of science as essentially
utilitarian : but if we are to use technicalities we shall say
that utility is not its essence but its accident, or at most its
property, since ability to use one's world perhaps follows
necessarily from understanding it. And every science has
the same character : not only geology and physiology but even
what we are accustomed to consider the most abstract
sciences. Thus, to be a chemist consists not in knowing
general formulae but in interpreting particular changes which
we observe taking place by means of these formulae : the
science of mechanics consists in the similar interpretation of
observed motions : even mathematics does not consist of
abstract equations and formulae but in the application of these
to the interpretation of our own mathematical operations.

A distinction is often made between the particular and the
individual, the former as a mere abstraction, the latter as
the concrete fact, synthesis of two opposite abstractions, the
particular and the universal. If we must conform to this
usage we shall put our contention by saying that there is
no such thing as knowledge either of the particular or of
the universal, but only of the individual : and that the

448 E. G. COLLINGWOOD : ABE HISTOEY AND SCIENCE

sense-datum (pure particular) and concept (pure universal)
are false abstractions when taken separately which yet, as
elements in the one concrete object of knowledge, the indi-
vidual interpreted fact, are capable of being analytically
distinguished. This may be illustrated by the fallacy of
inductive logic. The inductive logician assumes that the
task of science is to generalise, to frame universal laws ; and
that its starting-point is the facts of ordinary observation.
The problem of inductive logic then is how, from the par-
ticular facts, do we reach the universal law? It tries to
describe this process in detail : but when it has done so one
cannot help seeing that the alleged particular from which it
started was never a pure particular but was already steeped
in generality. The process ought to have begun with the
pure uninterpreted sense-datum. It never does so begin in
the descriptions of inductive logicians, for two excellent
reasons : such a pure sense-datum does not exist except as
an abstraction and therefore cannot be the concrete starting-
point of a process, and if it did exist one could never get
beyond it to reach the universal. So the inductive logician
makes the process begin with the carefully staged experiment
or intelligently recorded observation, which is not & particular
at all but an individual, a concrete fact bristling with con-
ceptual interpretations ; and from this point, which already
contains and presupposes the concept, he proceeds to ' induce '
the concept he has surreptitiously presupposed. How, after
this, he has the face to accuse syllogistic logic of petitio prin-
cipii remains a mystery.

The scientist's aim is, then, not to ' know the universal '
but to know the individual, to interpret intuitions by concepts
or to realise concepts in intuitions. The reason why it has
so often been fancied that his aim is to form generalisations
is probably that we expect science to be contained in text-
books, much as we expect art to be contained in pictures.
Art is to be found not in pictures but in our activity which
has pictures for its object : and science is to be found in our
activity which uses scientific textbooks, not in the textbooks
themselves. The teacher who puts a textbook into the
hands of a student must be understood as saying : ' I give
you not science, but the key to science : the information here
printed is not science, it is something which when you find
out how to use it will help you to build up in your own mind
an activity which alone is itself science '. It is only because
this is so obvious and so continually goes without saying that
we habitually overlook it.

III. The scientist generalises, certainly : but generalisation

DIFFEEENT KINDS OF KNOWLEDGE? 449

is subordinate to his real work as a scientist, the interpreta-
tion of individual fact. But the historian does not remain
at a level of thought below generalisation : he generalises too
and with exactly the same kind of purpose. Such generalisa-
tions as charters, mediaeval scripts, types of handwriting
characteristic of the early fourteenth century, guild institu-
tions, and so forth, go to the interpretation of a scrap of
parchment which fits into its place as a link in the history of
a town precisely as fossils, Jurassic fauna, shells peculiar to
the Portland beds, and so on, are the concepts through which
a geologist works out the geological history of a valley. Of
late, the historian's concepts have tended increasingly to
group themselves into what seem to be independent sciences,
palaeography, numismatics, archaeology and so forth. If, as
is mostly the case, they do their work better for being thus
incorporated into chartered societies, well and good. But
their work is the interpretation of individual fact, the re-
construction of historical narrative : and there is a certain
danger that the archaeologist, under the influence of the false
theory of science which we have criticised, may forget this.
He may even think that poor old history has been quite
superseded by his own science and others like it, whose aim
is not to individualise but to generalise : to reach conclusions
not in the form ' we can now assert that Agricola built this
fort ' but in the form ( we can now assert that Samian bowls
of shape 29 went out of use about A.D. 80 '. The latter is
certainly the form in which the conclusions of many valuable
monographs appear : but that is just because the monograph
as a whole is only an incident in the scientific lives of its
writer and readers, an incident whose importance lies in its
bearing on the interpretation of individual facts. Monographs
are not archaeology : or if they are, then archaeology is a false
abstraction and we must say monographs are not history,
since history is the concrete activity which produces and
uses them.

The nineteenth-century positivists were right in thinking
that history could and would become more scientific. It did,
partly as a result of their work, become at once more critical
and trustworthy, and also more interested in general con-
cepts. But its interest in general concepts, reflected in the
rise of archaeology and such sciences, was the interest of a
workman in the improvement of his tools. History did not
subordinate the determination of facts to the framing of
general laws based on them ; that idea was part and
parcel of the inductive fallacy. It created within itself new
bodies of generalised thought subordinated to its own

29

450 K. G. COLLINGWOOD: AEE HISTOKY AND SCIENCE

supreme end, the determination or interpretation of indi-
vidual fact.

IV. The analysis of science in epistemological terms is
thus identical with the analysis of history, and the distinction
between them as separate kinds of knowledge is an illusion.
The reason for this illusion is to be sought in the history of
thought. The ancients developed a very much higher type
of scientific than of historical thought : such sciences as
mathematics, physics, logic, astronomy, etc., in the hands of
the Greeks attained a pitch of excellence which history did
not rival till the seventeenth century. Their philosophical
reflexions were therefore concentrated on scientific thought
and not on the less remarkable achievements of history : and
from that time till the nineteenth century a lack of balance
between the epistemology of science and that of history con-
tinued to exist. The result was that in the theory of science
attention has always been drawn to the concepts or principles
of interpretation according to which the active work of
thought proceeds, while the theory of history has contented
itself with attending to the finished product of thought, the
fully-compiled historical narrative. This is the root of all
the alleged differences between history and science. Thus it
has been said that science predicts, whereas history only
records the past. That is untrue (geology records the past,
history predicts that green-glaze pottery will be found in a
mediaeval ruin) except in the sense that what we arbitrarily
call history — the finished narrative when the historian has
stopped working on it — is complete and immovable, while
what we arbitrarily call science (the mere abstract generalisa-
tion) is an early stage in the process of thought which looks
forward to its own completion in what inductive logic calls
verification.

Again, it is said that the mainspring of science is critical
thought, that of history authority. That again is wholly
untrue unless we are speaking of incipient science and com-
pleted history : for every kind of work is critical so long as
the conclusion is not yet reached, and every kind dogmatic
when it is. A working historian is critical in all the same
ways as a working scientist, and a scientist who has come to
a conclusion states it, everybody knows, as dogmatically as
a Pope : it would be a pedantic and insincere affectation if
he did not.

These and other fancied distinctions are the result of
comparing an inside view of science with an outside view of
history — science as an actual process of thought with history
as a dead, finished article. When both are regarded as

DIFFERENT KINDS OF KNOWLEDGE? 451

actual inquiries, the difference of method and of logic wholly
disappears. The traditional distinction, we have suggested,
has its origin in a simple historical fact, the fact that science
became an object of philosophical reflexion long before his-
tory : not in any epistemological dualism. To erect such a
dualism is to falsify both science and history by mutilating
each of one essential element of knowledge — the element of
generalisation or the element of individualisation : and so
mutilated, it is not surprising if now history, now science,
should appear an illegitimate form of knowledge.

II. BY A. E. TAYLOR.

MY belief is that they are different, and I am now to give a
brief statement of my reasons for thinking so. I say my
reasons and no one else's, because I do not see that a dis-
cussion of the kind we are now engaged in is likely to be
profitable if it resolves itself into an attempt to count heads
and to make out, largely by doubtful argumentation, that
Plato or St. Thomas or Hegel has taken sides and Eome has
therefore spoken and there is nothing left to discuss.

The view I believe to be false in principle can perhaps be
most readily indicated, and the reasons for thinking it false
most briefly suggested, by stating it in what will perhaps be
thought an exaggerated form, though, if the view were only
true instead of false, I do not see that such a statement would
be anything but perfectly appropriate. Spinoza, we all know,
undertook to write Ethica more geometrico demonstrata,
though most of his readers have held that the promise was
not really redeemed by the performance. How if Gibbon
had promised the world, or if some enthusiast for the opinions
of the late Sir John Seeley were yet to promise an Historia
Imperii more geometrico demonstrata ? Should we, or should
we not, expect to find that in proportion as the work was
good history, the " geometrical method " eopraefulgebat quia
aberat ? I believe we should, and I want to show very suc-
cinctly why I believe we should be right.

The root of the difficulty does not lie, as is often said, in
the distinction that "science " deals with the " universal"
but history with the " individual ". This is, no doubt, true,
but if it were all, a clever disputer could make out a plausible
case for neglecting the distinction by arguing that the uni-
versal truths of science hold true of individual cases, and
that the individuals whose doings form the subject of history

452 A. E. TAYLOR: ABE HISTORY AND SCIENCE

are only known to us as objects with this or. that complex of
" universal" attributes. The real difficulty is rather that
science, when it is " pure," that is when you have freed it
from complication with any extraneous preoccupations, when
it is all through " science " and nothing but " science," never
affirms and never attempts to affirm anything but a formal
logical implication between a proposition which it calls a
demonstrated conclusion and a group of other propositions
which it calls the premisses for the conclusion ; history,
when it is pure history, freed, to repeat myself, from all pre-
occupation with the extraneous, always tries at least to affirm
the truth of a categorical proposition. Thus, to take a pair
of illustrative examples, it is no concern of purely scientific
science whether or not the famous Pythagorean proposition
is true. The scientific work is done when it has been shown
that a certain small group of postulates, all explicitly asserted
or tacitly assumed without proof by Euclid, imply as a logi-
cal consequence the theorem of Pythagoras, and that if any
member of this group of postulates were omitted there would
be no such implication. Whether these various postulates
are themselves true or not is not a problem for the geometer
as such. He may, so far as I can see, hold that they are
true, that, as it is quaintly put, the " space in which we
actually live" is "Euclidean"; he may hold that some of
them are not true, that we " live in a non-Euclidean space " ;
he may hold that one or other of these views is true but that
we cannot tell which ; or finally, as it seems to me — and I
could quote names, if necessary, to prove that this is not
merely a view of an " outsider" in geometry — he may think
that the problem itself is on the same level as the question
whether the body we call Jupiter really is Jupiter, or whether
the true reckoning of money is by pounds and shillings, by
francs or by dollars. Our view of his common sense may be
affected by his verdict on this issue, but not our view of his
competence as a geometer. Or again, if you start with cer-
tain very simple postulates about the type of structure of the
integer-series, you can, as Frege has shown more elaborately
than anyone else, deduce the whole system of rules which
make up simple Arithmetic, but it may remain in doubt all
through, as Frege left it in doubt, whether there really is
anything which answers to the notion of an integer as de-
fined by your initial postulates. Only the doubt does not
in the least affect what you have really asserted, viz., that if
your two or three initial assumptions are granted, the whole
bulk of your conclusions follow with strict logical necessity.
You would show yourself a bad "arithmetician" if you de-

DIFFEKENT KINDS OF KNOWLEDGE? 453

clared a consequence to follow when it does not follow. You
do not show yourself a bad arithmetician because it may be
doubtful whether one of your postulates is true. All that is
really demanded in regard to them is that they shall be as
few and simple as possible, and that each of them shall be
independent of all the others, i.e., that the consequences
alleged to follow shall not all follow if any one of the postu-
lates is expunged from the list. Your crew must be suffi-
cient to row your boat, and it must contain no " corkers ".

For the sake of contrast, take any proposition about history
you please, the simpler and more childish the better for my
purpose, e.g., " Eichard III. murdered the sons of Edward
IV. in the Tower/' "William III. was an accessory to the
Rye House Plot ". The main point of interest here to the
historian of our country is whether these allegations are
themselves true or not. If the princes were still alive when
Henry VII. reached London, or if "Hooknose" knew
nothing about the Eye House Plot until the arrest of the
real or alleged plotters, these statements are simply false
history. The existence of a logical implication between the
premisses and the conclusions based on them is here only
interesting in a secondary way for its bearing on the truth
of the conclusions themselves. In point of fact, the historian
only rarely, if ever, really succeeds in putting the logical im-
plication beyond all doubt. In our own example, the first
proposition is one which most historians have accepted, the
second one which they have rejected. Yet the kind of evi-
dence produced to establish the connexion of premisses with
conclusion appears to be about as good in one case as in the
other ; in both, as a matter of logic, alternative readings of
the facts are really left open.

It is not to the point to argue against this real distinction
by urging that the individual persons and events of history
have universal characters and that it is these characters
which make up what we really know about them. The
question is what it is we are interested in establishing and
what we think it our business to establish in history. We
are emphatically not interested, when we write the history
of Eichard III., to make out the proposition that a politician
with the character we believe King Eichard to have had is
very likely to put rivals whose pretensions may be a source
of difficulty and danger out of the way if he has them in his
power. We may grant this implication quite freely, and
yet, if some one were to produce undeniable evidence of the
existence of the two princes after the battle of Bosworth,
though the evidence might not lead us to make any alteration

454 A. E. TAYLOE: AEE HISTOEY AND SCIENCE

in our hypothetical estimate of Richard's character, and so
would leave the general implication still standing, we should
certainly feel that we were in the presence of a new historical
fact, and we should feel called on to rewrite history accord-
ingly. The plain fact is that what the great representatives
of the scientific ideal have always been interested in is viewing
things, as one of the greatest wrote, sub specie quadam aeter-
nitatis. They are only interested in their temporal character
so far as this can be regarded as a clue to their eternal char-
acter; they may have to allow, in some cases, for the
temporal in their premisses ; their aim is to exclude it, if
they can, from their conclusions, and this is the real reason
for the " hypothetical-deductive " method which all science
does its best to follow. But, thank God, all our interest and
all our knowledge is not confined to the species quaedam
aeternitatis ; we are also interested in the temporal as tem-
poral, and we can know a great deal about it ; even if you
decline to call this knowledge science, as I think you ought,
it is "information," and it is just because we care about
information that there is a substantive study of history. Of
course you can make the study merely subservient to that
other interest in the non-temporal. You can treat history
as merely offering a starting-point for the framing of hypo-
thesis about tendencies in human nature. At its best,
however, the result of that kind of study is not history but
"Politics," the study of the legislator and statesman ; at its
worst, it becomes the medley of crude guesses which has
dignified itself appropriately enough by the vulgar and hybrid
appellation of " sociology," an unlovely simia Politicae. But
Politics and sociology are both discriminated from true
science by the multitude of their unproved postulates, the
vagueness of them, and the total neglect of any care to insure
that the postulates shall be sufficient and shall be indepen-
dent of one another. The historian's aim is at bottom quite
different from that of the student of Politics or sociology.
They are concerned with the "moral " of the fable; the true
historian only cares for the " moral " in a wholly secondary
way. He knows that the moralising tendency is so widely
diffused that men will read his narrative, as too many of them
continue to read Hamlet or Don Quixote, for the sake of the
" moral " to be got out of it, and he must prefer that the
"moral," since moral there is to be, should be one in con-
formity with the actual facts and not otherwise. But his
real interest is with the story, a story of the deeds of indi-
vidual men or individual societies which he does not expect
to recur and does not, at least in his quality of historian,

DIFFERENT KINDS OF KNOWLEDGE? 455

regard as /' cases " or ''instances" of a law of tendency.
They may very well be that, but it is not because they are
that that he takes so deep an interest in their story. One
might, for example, be interested in the History of the
Roman Empire simply as a striking case in point to show
how what is at bottom a military usurpation, under a con-
stitutional mask, comes to show itself in its true character
in spite of the ablest attempts of the most intelligent of the
wielders of the usurped power, to " save appearances " and
to hide away even from themselves the true "secret of em-
pire" ; how the ultimate break-down of this attempt, aided
by the over-greatness of the burden to be borne and the
tendency of new social strata to work to the surface and of new
blood to find its way into the boundaries of the "civilised "
state, leads in the end to the dissolution of the institution
itself. But it is plain as the day that this was not the chief
interest which the tale of the Decline and Fall of the Eoman
Empire had for our great historian of it. To him the great
interest of the Empire was that its history and its institutions
were the source of so much in the life and institutions of
the society in which he lived. From the point of view of a
pure sociologist, the interest of the Roman Empire and its
fortunes should be quite independent of the " empirical " fact
that its historian lived in the Europe of the eighteenth cen-
tury and not in the moon, and that he was the heir of the
Graeco-Roman tradition of life. To Gibbon these "tem-
poral " facts made nine-tenths of the interest of his subject.
And so it must always be with all of us. Sub specie aeterni-
tatis, and as material for the sociologist's queries, the past
of China or Japan may be as important as that of France or
England ; for us who are Frenchmen or Englishmen it can-
not possibly be so. Just so, though for God the life of any
man may have as much interest as that of Dante or Chatham
or Knox, it cannot be and ought not to be the same with us
who are the heritors of what they did, wisely or amiss. It
is no answer to repeat the old story that whether we are
contemplating sub specie aeternitatis or sub specie temporis
that which we contemplate is in either case the same thing,
that every universal is also particular and every particular
universal. Even if this were true, as I, for my part, do not
believe that it is, the observation would be irrelevant. It
would still be one thing to study the particularity of the
universal and another to study the universality of the par-
ticular. In a different field of study, it may be true that our
real concern with a great philosopher is to discover what he
meant to say, and that the words in which he chose to say

456 A. E. TAYLOR: ARE HISTORY AND SCIENCE

it are a secondary matter, but every scholar would subscribe
to the statement that it is our business to fix the text, say of
Plato, before we proceed to our interpretation and that in
fixing the text our immediate concern is not with what we
rightly or wrongly suppose to be the "Platonic philosophy,"
but with the MSS. and the ancient testimonies. In history
the point is even clearer for the reason I have just given.
Just as we are interested in our own relatives and friends
and enemies, not primarily as " social types " illustrative of
psychological laws, but because they are our relatives or
friends or enemies, we are legitimately interested in the
same way in the special past to which we owe our own
traditions, and in a lesser degree to the past to which other
races of men owe their traditions, because it is the past of
ourselves or of our fellow human sojourners on this particular
world of all the worlds God has made. The past of a race
living on a satellite of Sirius, if Sirius has satellites, may
reasonably be of equal value as illustrating laws of tendency :
it would be irrational to hold that it can have the same
interest for us.

I have dwelt so long on these obvious considerations mainly
because they ought to keep us from introducing false methods
of study into history. The point is one which has been
made admirably, though without any special reference to the
particular problem we are discussing, in Baron von Hiigel's
wise and tender essay, Preliminaries to Eeligious Belief
(Essays and Addresses on the Philosophy of Beligion, pp. 98-
118). The great concern in science is that the postulates
which form the protases of our statements of logical implica-
tion should be as few and simple as the case permits of. (I
should say, perhaps, as a caution, that by a " postulate " I
mean any undemonstrated proposition used as an ultimate
premiss in science. I make no assumption that " postulates "
may properly be assumed at the dictates of our " volitional
nature," i.e. because we should like to assume them, still less
that the mere making of the " postulate " in any way
guarantees its truth. I am using the word in the mathema-
tician's sense, not in that of some "philosophers ".) Hence
strict science rightly and properly follows the lead of Descartes
in insisting that its postulates shall convey "clear and dis-
tinct " ideas. But in the actual growth of knowledge, even
about our fellow-men, still more about God, as von Hugel
rightly insists, we never begin with or rest our knowledge on
"clear and distinct ideas". The reality with which we are
in contact, when we begin as infants to " know " our nurses
and parents, wrhen in any stage of life we have the religious

DIFFEKENT KINDS OF KNOWLEDGE? 457

man's direct sense of touching God, is in its nature so very
rich and complex that our " knowledge "of it is bound to be
inadequate and dim, the sort of "knowledge," as the same
writer says, that a dog has of its master, only still dimmer.
Von Hugel is specially concerned with directing this argu-
ment against the agnostic in theology who argues that be-
cause our supposed knowledge of God is so dim and confused,
it is worth nothing, and quite probably it is not knowledge of
anything at all. But the same sort of considerations, in a
lesser degree, are applicable to the study of human history.
Our interest in the men and the ages of the past which has
shaped the traditions under which we live is of the same kind,
not as our interest in the observations which will confirm or
refute a suspected mathematical law or a formula in physics or
chemistry, but as an interest in our personal friends and foes.

We want, quite legitimately, to know what manner of men
these were ; what they really did ; whether the benefit or the
harm accruing to us from their deeds was foreseen and in-
tended or not, and if not, what it was that they really pur-
posed. This sort of interest is quite unlike that of the strict
follower of science ; the motive at the bottom of it is quite
different from his passion for reducing the course of events
to law and formula. A statesman may, to be sure, read the
history of the past, mainly to learn from it how to shape his
own path among the uncertainties of life, but for that very
reason, his interest in history is that of the politician, not
that of the historian. At bottom, I take it, we all want to
know these things for the very good human reason that we
want to feel gratitude where gratitude is deserved and not to
bestow it where it- would be wasted on the undeserving.
And for that reason we properly ask of a great historian
something we should never demand from a writer on science,
just as we ask the same thing, under easier conditions, from
a great novelist. Of the man of science we ask no more than
that he should " explain" the course of things to us, make it
smooth and easily to be taken in as a whole, by showing how
it all follows by logical deduction from a few simple unproved
principles taken in conjunction with a comparatively few close
observations of actual fact as a " control". If history were
what it has often wrongly been taken to be, disguised political
theory or even disguised " sociology," we ought to be content
to ask no more of the historian. In point of fact we do ask
something more and very different.

We expect the really great historian not merely to " explain "
events to us but to make us " understand " the doers of his-
torical deeds. He must bring it home to us with conviction

458 A. E. TAYLOR : ARE HISTORY AND SCIENCE

what manner of men they were, who were doing, and what
they believed themselves to be doing. Now this is where
" science " inevitably falls short. I can illustrate my point
most readily by an obvious example. A man may be a
thoroughly " scientific " psychologist with all the latest theories
and laboratory facts at his fingers' ends, and yet he might be
quite incapable of telling a story of human action, even one in
which all the events were certified " facts," in such a way as
to make us accept the personages of the story as "real" ;
they might impress us as mere products of the laboratory
with labels attached to them, because, as we should probably
say, we simply cannot " understand " their proceedings. On
the other hand, men who have probably never opened a book
about analytic or genetic psychology in their lives can tell a
tale of the doings and feelings of quite fictitious characters in
a way which makes us feel that we " understand " their per-
sonages all through ; we can enter into, or as Adam Smith
would have said, " go along with " all they say or do. This
is why we call the fictitious characters in such men's books
" real," and often speak, with some ambiguity, of their creators
as profound " psychologists ". So they are in a sense, but it
is a peculiar sense ; Henry James and William James may
both be called " psychologists," but not quite in the same sense
of the word.

Now I maintain that it is this power of " going along "
with the actor in an historical scene and making his readers
"go along" with him, which may be wholly wanting in
the subtlest analyst of situations or deviser of political
theories, that is the supreme gift of the really great historian.
And it is not a gift which can be got by any devotion to
" scientific method ". It has nothing to do with " clear and
distinct ideas " ; which of us has what the logician would
pass as " clear and distinct ideas " of his most intimate friend ?
The ordinary good Psychology manual will give you much
clearer and distincter ideas of the assumed typical man whose
mind it proposes to analyse and watch as it grows. But you
would be badly at sea if you attempted to read the riddle of
a real man's character by dependence on even so admirable a
textbook as the Manual of my colleague Prof. Stout, as I
should imagine he would be the first man to admit.

I do not mean, of course, that a great historian is a brilliant
novelist under another name. I should not ask anyone to
regard the very brilliant novel called " Froude's History of
England " or the hardly less brilliant novel of Macaulay as
typical historical masterpieces. The historian works under a
control from which the novelist is free. The novelist is at

DIFFEBENT KINDS OF KNOWLEDGE? 459

liberty to " see" his characters first and then shape the course
of their doings to correspond to his vision. The historian has
to start by "documenting" himself about the complicated
web of events and then to divine the actors. It is the same
process, on a larger scale and applied to the past, which each
of us performs in his way, when he judges the persons among
whom his life is cast by what he knows of their words and
acts. What I do mean is that the performance of this task
is incumbent on a historian and that it is success in it —
success in making us "understand " — which stamps the really
great historian. A man for whom the acts of men are no
more than events, like the fall of a cathedral spire, or the
occurrence of an unexpected storm at the crisis of a battle,
might, for all I can see, quite well supply the student of
Political Science or its counterfeit " Sociology " with materials
for constructing more or less sound theories about " social
tendencies," but no man will be an historian unless he
understands that, even if there really are any mere " events,"
the acts of fully awake and accountable human beings are
acts and not mere events and that our quite unscientific but
quite legitimate interest in a past which is our own past will
not be satisfied until we have been made able to ''under-
stand " the actor behind the act. For this reason, though I
see no reason why the historian should always add the func-
tion of the judge to his own and insist on formally pronounc-
ing sentence on the persons with whom he deals, I must
confess that Lord Acton seems to me to have understood what
is properly to be expected of an historian better than Seeley
and his followers, who seem to think that when the work of
providing Political Science with materials for its formulae has
once been done, nothing much is left for the historian but to
compose " Tales of a Grandfather ".

III. BY F. C. S. SCHILLEE.

THE theory of the three-member Symposium is supposed to
be that the first string develops his Thesis, the second harps
upon the Antithesis, while upon the third performer devolves
the onerous duty of finding (if he can) the Higher Synthesis
which resolves their discords. In practice, however, this
is so arduous an undertaking that it is easier to make a
triangular duel of it, and not infrequently it happens that
the aims of the parties are so little co-ordinated that they
attack, not one problem, but three or more. Usually this

460 F. C. S. SCHILLEB : AEE HISTOEY AND SCIENCE

comes about unintentionally, owing to the infirmity of
philosophic purposes ; but on this occasion I understand
that Prof. Taylor wishes us to legitimate the practice, and
consciously to aim at independent treatment, that is, to
disregard the history of the debate. And though I am a
little apprehensive that this procedure, if it became common,
would foster in ' symposiasts ' a vice to which philosophers
are all too prone, that of solitary drinking — I mean, of
course, thinking — in the present case I have no difficulty in
complying with Prof. Taylor's request. For, sooth to say,
I find that my predecessors have been singularly reasonable.
They have abstained from firing off philosophic paradoxes
at our common target, and from bombarding their audience
with cryptic conundrums. Neither of them has asserted
that Science alone is knowledge, and History is not, or that
History is knowledge and Science is not. Neither has as-
serted that Science is concerned only with eternal truth, or
that History has no relation or relevance to scientific truth.
Both have refrained from the verbal juggling with the terms
' particular ' and ' universal ' which has so long seemed to
be the sole contribution philosophy could make to any
problem.1 Both the unity of knowledge and the diversity
of its kinds have been upheld in quite a moderate wTay.

Consequently it would not have been easy to quarrel with
either of them, though incidentally both of them reveal
that they do not quite understand pragmatism. With Mr.
Collingwood's attitude indeed I find myself in such cordial
agreement that I can accept all his contentions, though I
think some of them may prove misleading unless they are
safeguarded and supplemented by extensions and corollaries
which he does not mention. Prof. Taylor's interesting paper
I could not swallow so whole-heartedly : parts of it should,
I think, definitely be rejected. But my reasons for so doing
are so very simple that they would not lend themselves to
any very protracted debate. Accordingly it seems quite
possible that in this instance dialectics will be less in-
structive than a more direct approach to the problem ;

1 1 am particularly appreciative of their abstention from this practice,
in which neither term was ever defined or distinguished from the other.
T3ut if we cannot say wherein either particularity or universality consists,
what is the use of predicating either of anything? And further, what
meaning can it have to say that everything is both ' particular ' and * uni-
versal ' ? If that is so, and if neither ' particular ' nor * universal ' can be,
or be defined, per se, the distinction between them becomes an arbitrary
distinction without a difference, and explanation in these terms is mean-
ingless.

DIFFEEENT KINDS OF KNOWLEDGE ? . 461

at any rate I will endeavour to develop our question in-
dependently and shall only refer incidentally to the points
where my predecessors' treatment seems to me to require
comment.

It is permissible perhaps to begin with a truism. Our
question obviously implies that, whether or not Science and
History are identical, they are not wholly different, but
relevant to each other and to the nature of knowledge. For
if they were not different, they would not be distinguished ;
while if they were utterly different, they could not be com-
pared, and so no question could arise as to the precise differ-
ence between our cognitive procedure in Science and in
History. It is also antecedently probable that such differ-
ences as may be found will not be very serious, for if they
were, they would gravely detract from the unity of knowledge
and the utility of recognising it. Further, if the differences
between Science and History are not serious, it will be a
question whether they are to be dignified with the title of
' differences in kind '.

I will follow up my first truism with a second, which ought
to be deemed its equal. Of all the multitudinous definitions
an object of inquiry may receive, the most significant is one
which expresses the purpose for the sake of which it has
become an object of inquiry. In other words, in order really
to understand the nature and function of Science and of
History, we must discover why they become objects of
human interest and to what ends they minister, and then
define them accordingly. If they serve a number of purposes
and have several ends, it will be necessary to evaluate these
ends, and to decide which of them is the highest and
worthiest, and really justifies the interest taken in the object.
For example, food is probably as universal an object of
interest as can be found among men ; it appeals to high and
low, young and old, savage and civilised, and much is said
and written about it. It has interest for biology, economics,
ethics, politics, gastronomy, physiology, medicine ; nay even
for theology, seeing that the earliest religions appear to have
been forms of food magic. It is evident, however, that the
ends for the sake of which men are interested in food are not
all of equal value.

The cases of Science and History seem similar. Both may
be pursued for various, and for the same, ends. Thus some
may study Science and some History, because it amuses
them. Others, for the sake of a livelihood. The former end
will appeal more to the amateur, the latter to the professional,
Or again, both Science and History may be useful to the

462 F. c. s. SCHILLER: ARE HISTORY AND SCIENCE

politician, and be exploited accordingly. But none of these
ends would yield a very adequate definition of these interests,
and they would certainly not enable us to distinguish between
the function of Science and of History.

We must therefore try again. Perhaps a deeper and more
specific end is to be sought in the functions which human
life is enabled to fulfil by knowing Science and History.
What, then, is the vital value of each? Vital value both
must clearly have, in some way or other ; otherwise they
could not maintain themselves as spiritual industries.

Now in the case of Science the answer to this question
has become pretty obvious. The essential characteristics of
scientific knowledge, which distinguish it from pseudo-science,
divination, guesswork, metaphysics, verbiage, and nonsense,
are prediction and control. It is that whereby we foresee
the future and calculate the distant, and guide our action
accordingly. It is the knowledge which is power, and which
ministers to our desire for power. It is the knowledge which
extends our power beyond the present into the future, which
forecasts the consequences of our activities and enables us
to foresee what will happen next. It liberates us, therefore,
from the restriction of actual experience to the passing
moment.

This achievement, however, is not enough. It is not
enough to know the real as it is, in order really to know it,
in order to control it. We must know also what it will be,
and what it has been. To understand the actual and to
treat it rightly, we must extend our knowledge backwards
into the past, and regard it as a product of the ages.

We ask, therefore — how has the actual come to be as it
is ? This is the essential question which History tries to
answer. Its province is the past ; its purpose to reveal it,
to redeem it from oblivion, to relate it to the present, in
order that we may have the power over things that comes
from knowledge of their past. It follows from this definition
that prophecy is not the primary business of History ; it
leaves this to Science, which is not, however, restricted to
the future ; Science can calculate the past as well as the
future, though only with the aid of History. The ultimate
aim of both, however, is to minister to our need of controlling
a reality that kills us if we don't.

If these definitions be accepted, it is clear what the differ-
ence is between History and Science. It is not, however,
inconsistent with its recognition to add a warning that it
does not imply any antagonism between Science and History,
but demands their close co-operation. Clearly the historian

DIFFEEENT KINDS OF KNOWLEDGE? 463

may, and must, use all the technique of calculation which
Science proffers, to reconstruct the past. In return, the
scientist must recognise that, in all that concerns the past,
he needs the help of History.

In the last resort this means that he needs it everywhere.
A birth-story attaches to every scientific fact, and an umbilical
cord once connected it with the womb of time. All the
data out of which scientific ' facts ' are fabricated are primarily
historical. If it is not historically true that a certain Mr.
Dawson once found certain bones at a certain distance from
each other in a certain deposit, the Piltdown skull was that of
a man and the teeth were those of an ape, and Eoanthropus
Dawsoni cannot be put together, and becomes a myth. If it
is not true that trustworthy observers have seen the fall of
meteorites, Laplace was right to argue that ' there are no
stones in heaven, ergo none can fall from heaven '. If seers
of ghosts and witnesses of miracles are always liars, the beliefs
based on ghosts and miracles fall to the ground. In short,
the truth is that all scientific laws presuppose scientific facts,
and all scientific facts presuppose historical facts ; thus every
known ' law of nature ' would crumble or evaporate if a
limited (and usually quite a small) number of historical
observations should be rejected as untrustworthy. Every
scientific truth, therefore, has a past and a history, on which
it remains dependent.

But every scientific truth also hopes to have a future. It
means to remain true. It has the ambition and the duty to
predict : it claims to regulate a course of events which it
admits to be unique. The idea that a scientific law is a
timeless formula, having eternal truth or validity and exempt
from all obligation to embody or exemplify itself in the flux
of events is a philosophic blunder, a blunder which scientists
repudiate, because they know that the time-relation is left a
blank only in order that their * law ' may be applied to and at
any time. It retains a certain popularity among philosophers
who have learnt nothing since the days of Plato ; but I am
glad to see that my colleagues are not of this kind. Mr.
Collingwood is quite explicit in repudiating the notion that
the whole business of Science is to generalise and that it has
no concern with the particular : its function is to interpret
particulars by means of generalisations. And he makes this
his chief ground for denying any essential difference between
Science and History. Prof. Taylor, too, admits that it can
be argued that "the universal truths of science hold true of
individual cases," though he would not, perhaps, admit that
they are meaningless unless they do. As, however, unlike

464 F. c. s. SCHILLER: ABE HISTORY AND SCIENCE

Mr. Collingwood, he wishes to stress the difference between
Science and History, he adopts an ideal of ' pure ' science,
of which that can be alleged which is manifestly false of
actual science. ' Pure ' science has no truck with ' fact,' and
no connexion with ' applied'. It takes no dip in the great
stream of events. Being purely ' hypothetical/ it has no
relation with ' pure ' history, which tries to be ' categorical '.
But it has not occurred to him that if so, ' pure ' science
will neither work nor wash ; it is pure fiction and a creature
of abstraction. It is futile fiction and false abstraction. For
the ' pure ' principles must be used, and the pure science
be applied. Moreover, Prof. Taylor's point can not be proved
thus ; for to show that ' pure ' science and ' pure ' history have
no relation, either with each other or with our purposes, is no
proof that actual Science and History are not interdependent
and intended to co-operate with each other and with us.
The actual collaboration of actual science and actual history
Prof. Taylor does not appear to deny : it is only as * pure '
abstractions that they are irreconcilable. And this is merely
a way of saying that these abstractions are unreal and use-
less ; they do not serve to elucidate the actual functioning of
knowledge, in which all our activities play into each other's
hands.

Nevertheless there are differences between Science and
History, and they should not be overlooked. We should
note in the first place that, though both aim at an unambigu-
ous account of their subject-matter, neither of them quits'
succeeds. Science, though it assumes, as a postulate of
method, that the future is fixed and unambiguously calcul-
able, does not succeed in predicting it completely. It ascribes
this failure, quite consistently, to the infirmity of human
knowledge, and not to any inherent recalcitrance of the real,
or any impossibility of predicting the course of an indeter-
minate agent. But despite this explanation, the fact remains
that our science cannot fully determine the future.

At first sight we are better off in regard to the past. We
are accustomed to say that though the future may be, or
seem, contingent, at any rate the past is fixed unalterably.
It is dead and done with, and what is done cannot be un-
done, even by the gods. History is a record that stands, and
cannot be shaken. All these beliefs are dangerous delusions.
They spring from illusions that rest upon a false abstraction.
We can abstractly conceive the past as existing per se and
apart from our means of knowing it ; if we do this, we can
represent it as determinate and unalterable.

But such is not the character of the past as known.

DIFFEBENT KINDS OF KNOWLEDGE? 465

The past in which we believe, and which we believe our
histories to record, is not the object of an assured, deter-
minate and definitive knowledge. It is always incomplete,
dubious, undetermined. Its history is only a hypothetical
reconstruction, often highly imaginative, out of utterly in-
adequate material. The more the logical character of his-
torical evidence is examined, the more unsatisfactory it
seems. It is full of bias, folly, error, discrepancy and contra-
diction. There is always too little evidence for it, and usually
too much. For so much of the evidence is so bad and un-
enlightening. The historian therefore has to appraise and
select at every step, and if he compiles a plausible tale —
perhaps only a fable convenue or a masterpiece of propaganda
—he is acclaimed as great. Another may achieve as much,
and then we can accept whichever tale we please. For there
is no verification of either, as in Science, and no crucial test.
The only verification History can claim lies in alleging
nothing grossly improbable, and nothing from which our
actual present could not have followed. It must not be said
that Hannibal, not Brennus, captured Rome and burnt it.
For if he had, Mediterranean man would presumably now
be speaking a Semitic, not a Latin, tongue.

But this verification by consonance with the actual is
wholly insufficient. A thousand histories, all different,
might equally conduct to the actual facts. When therefore
we look back upon the past, a thousand threads of historical
sequence radiate from the present into the past. There are
a thousand roads which we might follow. Which of them
shall we choose as the ' true ' history, to lead us to the past as
it ' really was ' and changes not ? We do not know. We
cannot know. Actually, we choose the history which seems
to us most promising and congenial; we choose with the
character, the intelligence, the knowledge, the prejudices,
the history, we have. Is it astonishing that we choose differ-
ently, that the fashions change in history as in medicine,
and that all the really important questions, i.e., those which
are felt vitally to affect the present, remain matters of partisan
debate? Actually, therefore, the past is for us as indeter-
minate as the future : the determination of both remains an
overbelief which does not debar us, in either case, from
reckoning with alternatives.

So far the scientist and the historian appear to be, very
definitely, in the same boat, even though they do not row on
the same side of it. The scientist, however, has one definite
advantage. The verification of a historical hypothesis,
which deduces the actual from what is judged to be the best

30

466 F. C. S. SCHILLEE I HISTORY AND SCIENCE.

interpretation of the evidence, was, we saw, very imperfect,
and if any portion of the structure is insecure, there is no help
for it. Nothing can be done, because History cannot be re-
enacted, and observed afresh. It never quite repeats itself,
because if it tried to, the very fact that it had occurred before
would, if it were remembered, alter the result. Hence the
historian cannot experiment. The scientist can. If he is not
satisfied with the evidence for his hypothesis, he can devise
fresh tests, or repeat the old ones. True, such repetition is
never absolute, and a theoretic quibbler may always object
that therefore the case may not turn out to be the ' same,' nor
indeed a case at all, of the theory under examination. But
experience shows that over extensive fields of scientific re-
search the conditions practically can be repeated and the
differences between the various experiments rendered minimal
and irrelevant. Hence verification is a much more potent
weapon in Science than in History, though even in Science
no amount of verification of a ' law of nature ' by subsequent
fact suffices to prove it absolutely true.1

The truth, therefore, both of Science and of History is
pragmatic ; it is established in the same way as the rest of
our knowledge. In ultimate analysis there is but one truth,
and one way of ascertaining it. There are differences in the
working of our method in Science and in History ; but these
are due to the different recalcitrance of the material to our
various purposes. In the end, however, Science and History
stand and fall together ; and I at least can conceive no
worthier aim for a philosopher than to stand by both.

1 In regard to mathematical l truth ' it may be observed, (1) that to
admit that it is deducible from postulates which are * arbitrary ' (in the
sense of admitting alternatives) is an admission that it is not absolute,
while (2) the necessity of accounting for the actual choice, of postulates
imposes empirical conditions on its truth. For the postulate-systems
preferred are either chosen on subjective grounds, or are those which
have shown themselves convenient and useful in the interpretation of our
experience. Their empirical validation, however, disposes of the Platonic
charge that the principles of the sciences are arbitrary and insecure.
They would be arbitrary only if they were chosen without rhyme or
reason, they would be insecure, only if they had not received overwhelm-
ing confirmation from the working of the sciences.

IV.— SYMBOLISM AS A METAPHYSICAL
PRINCIPLE.1

BY WILLIAM TEMPLE, BISHOP OF MANCHESTEE.

IT is abundantly clear that one of the chief characteristics of
contemporary philosophy is the place which it gives to the
concept of Value. There is nothing unprecedented in this.
Indeed it is not possible to give a higher place to Value than
Plato did when he made the Good the supreme principle in
reality or required of Anaxagoras that, in order to illustrate the
supremacy of Keason, he should prove the earth to be either
round or fiat by showing which it is better that it should be.
Aristotle, whom no one has yet censured for sentimentalism,
similarly clinches his argument for the Unity of God or the
governing principle with the maxim and the quotation : ra
&e ovra ov ffovXerai, Tro^neveaOai /ea^rco?. " ov/c ayaObv
7ro\vKO{,pavirj • el? /coupavos eVra)." But though not un-
precedented, the prominence of Value in the thought of our
time is characteristic. To the religious thinker, it is welcome.
And yet there is a remarkable indefiniteness in the current
use of the term, and the relation of Value to Eeality or
Substance is by most writers either not discussed or is very
sketchily outlined. The aim of this paper is to offer a very
small contribution to the discussion of these questions.

I.

The structure of Eeality, as it presents itself to us, seems
to be as follows : It consists of many grades, of which each
presupposes those lower than itself, and of which each finds
its own completion or perfect development only in so far as
it is possessed or indwelt by that which is above it. This
seems to involve an infinite regress, and suggests an infinite
progress. Whether there is in fact a lowest and a highest
term in this scale of finite existences I do not know, and I
do not greatly care. In a book of mine called Mens Creatrix
I have tried to show that the infinite series is not necessarily
meaningless in logic or futile in ethics. At present I am not

1 Contributed to the Joint Session of the Mind Association and the
Aristotelian Society at Manchester, July 14th- 16th, 1922.

468 WILLIAM TEMPLE :

concerned with the problem of lowest and highest terms, but
with the facts before us, which may fall midway between
such terms. I am rather tabulating impressions than con-
structing a system, though the tabulation is of interest
because it suggests the principle of a system. To make
my present meaning clear it will be enough to take the broad
divisions : Matter, Life, Mind, Spirit. These grades may
be for our present purpose indifferently regarded as various
entities or as different modes of action and re-action. Matter
is itself a term covering many grades ; so is Life. But each
has sufficient identity in itself and sufficient distinctness from
the others for the requirements of the argument.

The term Matter is here taken to cover the substances or
the modes of action and re-action which are studied in the
sciences of Physics and Chemistry. It is at once quite clear
that those sciences give no account of the self-movement
which is one characteristic of Life, or of the comprehension
of spaces and times which is one characteristic of Mind*
The lower cannot explain the higher. But that is not all.
The living organism has in its material constitution a unity
of differences, a subtlety of co-ordination, a spontaneity of
adaptation, that no knowledge of Physics and Chemistry
would enable the observer to anticipate. The material only
reveals its full potentialities when Life possesses and indwells
it. The later development reveals what had all along been
potential in the earlier ; but no knowledge of the earlier apart
from that development would have made possible a prediction
of the development. Matter only reveals what it really is
when Life supervenes upon it.

Similarly Life only reveals what it really is when Mind
supervenes upon it. No study of zoology and biology will
enable the student to predict the occurrence among living
things of Shakespeare or Bach or Leonardo or Newton. The
use of faculties, which at first are used for mere survival, in
the interest of ends that have nothing at. all to do with
survival, must occur in fact before it can be anticipated in
theory. So too Mind as intellect only shows what it can be
and do when it is guided by Mind as Spirit. The existence of
Art and Science, though they make upon Life an absolute
claim, will not account for the self-sacrifice of the hero or the
martyr. And, if Religion is to be trusted, even Spirit (as
known in our experience) only reveals what it can be and do
when it is possessed by that Highest Being, whom we call
Spirit because Spirit is the highest grade of Reality known
to us.

We begin then with the conception of Eeality as existing

SYMBOLISM AS A METAPHYSICAL PRINCIPLE. 469

in many grades, each of which finds its own completion or
perfect development only in so far as it is possessed or
indwelt by that which is above it. But we then notice
that each depends for its actuality upon those which are
below it. Matter itself as experienced by us can be reduced
to what is simpler than itself, whether to a, /3 and 7
particles or still more ultimately to Space-Time. Life is
unknown apart from living organisms, which are Matter
informed by Life. Mind is unknown except in reasoning
living organisms. Spirit is unknown except in conscientious,
reasoning, living organisms. Whether the higher grades
can exist apart, there seems to be no means of deciding; in
our experience they never do.

Thus we see each grade dependent for its existence on the
grades below, and dependent for its own full actualisation on
the grade or grades above. Such seems, apart from any
theory of its origin or raison d'etre, to be in fact the structure
of Eeality.

II.

At this point I must ask leave to assume that when we ask
for an explanation of the Universe as a whole we are bound
to formulate the answer in terms of Will. To summarise
very briefly the argument by which I should seek to justify
this assumption, I would submit that there is in our ex-
perience one, and only one, self-explanatory principle —
namely Purpose or Will : no doubt, if anyone can believe
in a purpose with no will behind it, we should have to say
" Purpose " only, leaving " Will " as a precarious inference ;
but as it appears that Purpose and Will are terms that
mutually imply each other, we may speak of either in-
differently. There is a "problem of evil," but there is not
in the same sense any problem of good. When we find as
the cause of any phenomenon an intelligent will which chose
to cause that phenomenon to occur, we raise no further ques-
tions, unless we fail to see how that will came to seek this
occurrence as good. We may be puzzled by the way a man
exercises choice ; but our problem here is not as a rule a
problem of efficient causation. When we sympathise, we are
not puzzled. If I say of anyone " I cannot understand acting
like that," I do not mean that I cannot give a psychological
analysis of the motives of the action ; I mean that I cannot
imagine myself doing it. When in the causal regress we
arrive at a will, the regress is at an end, and to understand
means,not to give a causal explanation, but to sympathise.

470 WILLIAM TEMPLE:

We have reached an ultimate term. And when we do
sympathise, our mind raises no more questions. The only
explanation of the Universe that would really explain it, in
the sense of providing to the question why it exists an answer
that raises no further question, would be the demonstration
that it is the creation of a Will which in the creative act
seeks an intelligible good. But that is Theism. Theism of
some kind is the only theory of the universe which could
really explain it. Theism may be untenable ; if it is, the
universe is inexplicable. Merely to show how it fits together
as a rational system does not explain it, for we are left still
asking — why does it exist at all ? When once that question
is asked the answer must be found in Theism or nowhere.

I need hardly say that I do not advance this outline argu-
ment either as the only defence of Theism or as a sufficient
intellectual basis for it. The whole body of argument that
is articulated by Prof. Pringle-Pattison and Prof. Sorley in
their Gifford Lectures, or by Mr. Matthews in his recently
published Boyle Lectures, is here presupposed. But the
point which I have just mentioned, and which deserves more
attention in my judgment than it generally receives, is the
one most germane to the group of considerations with which
we are now specially concerned. Other arguments seem to
establish the principle that the universe must be interpreted
by spiritual rather than by mechanical or other materialistic
categories. Other arguments tend to establish the ethical
character of the spiritual power or powers that govern the
world. Philosophically everything is ready for Theism. But
actual belief in a living God rests primarily, as I think, on
religious experience, and finds its intellectual support in the
reflexion that this belief is capable in principle of supplying
an explanation of the very existence of the Universe, which no
other hypothesis available to us affords any hope of doing.
That is no proof. It cannot be laid down as an axiom that
there must be some explanation of the existence of the
Universe. If the existing scheme of things be internally
coherent, it cannot be said that the mind imperiously
demands more than this for its satisfaction. It is true
that we have to choose between postulating a rational uni-
verse and accepting complete scepticism. It is not true that
we have to choose between theism and scepticism. I should
be very sorry to have to believe that Reality is what Mr.
Bradley describes or even what Prof. Pringle-Pattison
describes. But I could not reject their accounts of it only
on the ground that they do not explain its existence as a
whole. For while it is an additional advantage in any theory

SYMBOLISM AS A METAPHYSICAL PEINCIPLE. 471

if it can do this, it is not fatal to any theory that it should
fail to do this, or even refuse to attempt it. It may be that
there is no explanation of Eeality itself, and that it is "not
self-explanatory except in the sense that all its parts support
each other in constituting the whole. Or, again, it may be
that there is an explanation of Reality, but that it is some-
thing wholly inaccessible to the mind of man. There seems
no reason to suppose that mind, in its human manifestation,
either includes, or itself is, the last term in cosmic evolution,
and if there is more to follow, then though human mind would
comprehend the lower forms it would not know at all what
constituted the higher forms, and it would be in these, not in
human mind, that the explanation of Reality might be found.
None the less, if there is an available hypothesis which is
capable in its own nature of supplying the explanation of
Reality, it is thoroughly scientific to experiment with it and
see if it can make good its claim. Now Purpose, as the
expression of a Will, is such a principle. But to seek the
explanation of the Universe in a Purpose grounded in a Will
is Theism ; it is the acceptance, provisionally at least, of the
doctrine of God as Creator. From religion there comes
abundant support for this doctrine. To some religions, and
notably to the Jewish and Christian religions, it is essential
and fundamental.

III.

Now if we assume the structure of Reality to be such as
I have outlined, and if we accept (at least for purposes of
enquiry) the explanation of it which Theism offers, certain
consequences follow, which it is the main purpose of this
paper to trace out.

Will acts always for the sake of value, or good, to be created
or enjoyed as a result of the action. It is precisely as so acting
that it is self-explanatory and intrinsically intelligible. This
would lead us to expect that whatever Will creates is either
itself good or is a means to good. Moreover if what is
created is good not (or not only) as a means but in itself, this
means that its very being or substance is good. I do not, at
present, go so far as to say that good is the being or substance
of all that exists, but we are entitled and even bound by the
hypothesis adopted to say that whatever exists must either
be a means to something which is substantially good or else
be itself substantially good. We seem therefore to be led up
to a new enquiry into the relations of value and reality.

Now if I may take Prof. Pringle-Pattison as an illustrious
example of contemporary philosophy, and discuss, not the

472 WILLIAM TEMPLE :

details of his argument, nor its claims taken as a whole, but
the general impression created by it on my own mind, and
also (as I find) on many other minds, I would venture to
suggest that many of the anxieties with regard to it which
that general impression arouses would vanish if he saw his
way to a more thorough-going conception of God in terms of
Will. For the general impression left on my mind by his
great book on the Idea of God, and greatly strengthened by
his essay in the volume entitled The Spirit, is that he accepts
the Universe as somehow existing, and then finds that it
reveals values, which are regarded all the while as being
adjectival to it. That they appear at all is a determinant
consideration for the philosopher, and yet they appear rather
as appendices of an otherwise existing universe than as them-
selves its constitutive elements ; and when we reach the
Being in whom all values are realised, He hovers uncertainly
between two positions, being at one time the Ground of all
existence and at another a characteristic of a universe which
would apparently continue to exist (though shorn of its
values) if He were to cease. And it is the latter position
to which He seems to be ultimately relegated. I have no
doubt that this summary is unjust to Prof. Pringle-Pattison.
Almost any summary of a theory elaborated with so delicate
a balance and an argument so closely knit would be unjust.
But at the end of The Idea of God I was left with a sense
that this book makes God adjectival to the Universe, and the
essay in The Spirit removed all doubt on the question. And
yet I was sure that in the main the Professor was dealing
with the matter on right lines and had rendered a great
service to philosophy, and especially the philosophy of re-
ligion, by following the method which he had chosen.

The question with which I am now concerned is this :
should we conceive of things as existing independently and
possessing value as an attribute, or should we think of value
as itself the true reality which realises its various forms
through embodying itself in things — or through the creation
of things for this purpose by the Divine Will ?

Now I believe that our difficulty arises from the fact that
Philosophy being an intellectual activity, always tends to
depend more upon that search for an ultimate value which is
conducted in science than upon the two kindred efforts of
ethics and of art. In science the intellect is not only supreme
but sole ; it is natural for the intellect to take the methods
and operations of science not only as its method but also as
determining the subject-matter of its enquiry. That I take
to be the essential feature of the heresy of intellectualism.

SYMBOLISM AS A METAPHYSICAL PEINCIPLE. 473

Philosophy must be intellectual or it ceases to be itself. But
the intellect always gets its subject-matter from outside
itself ; it is ready enough to accept it from the physical
world, and from its own procedure and results in dealing
with the physical world. It is less ready to accept as the
material of its operations the procedure and results of human
activities which are either not purely or not at all intellectual.
Yet for a satisfactory metaphysic it must include these, and
indeed (as I think) must give them a determining influence.
The goal of Science is on the objective side Keality, on the
subjective side Knowledge ; the goal of Art is on the objective
side Beauty, on the subjective side Creation and Appreciation ;
the goal of Ethics is on the objective side Society, on the
subjective side enlightened Conscience and dutiful Action.
It is apparent that whereas Science ends in Knowledge,
which leaves the objective world as it finds it, Art and Ethics
— and Eeligion — aim both at a comprehension of the object
and at action which modifies the object. Now if the intellect
is led by its own process to the affirmation, or at least to the
supposition, that the explanation of the Universe is to be
found in the activity of a Creative Will, it must go on to
accept those human activities which include some creative
energy as surer guides to the constitution of Reality than its
own special activity of science

Starting with the general outlook appropriate to science,
philosophers have generally made Reality their substantive
notion, while Value has become adjectival. It is quite true
that Plato spoke of the Idea of Good as eVe/ee«/a TT}? overlap
—which the context proves to mean " above and beyond
objective being" (Republic, VI., 509 b) ; but he does not follow
this up by including ethics and politics in his propaedeutic
studies ; he remains under the predominant influence of
geometry. So S. Thomas Aquinas is quite thorough in the
deliberate and reiterated identification of Good with Being —
Bonum et ens sunt idem secundum rem: sed differunt secun-
dum rationem tantum (Sum. Theol., Pt. L, Q. V., A. I.) — yet
he goes on to treat Being as prior because it is the first
object of the intellect, and thereafter the whole concept of
Value almost disappears. Consequently his definition of
Substance as that which exists of itself — substantial nomen
. . . significant essentiam cui competit sic esse, idest per se
esse (Sum. TheoL, Pt. I., Q. Ill, A. V.) — never leads him
even to consider whether this is not the same as to say that
Substance and Good (or Value) are synonymous terms : hence
the chief difficulties of his sacramental theories.

But the identity of substance (so defined) with Value

474 WILLIAM TEMPLE I

follows inevitably from a thorough-going acceptance of the
Theistic hypothesis. The Universe is to be conceived as
deriving its origin and unity from a Creative Will. But the
correlative of Will is Good or Value; therefore the most
fundamental element in things is their Value. This is not
a property which they have incidentally ; it is the constitutive
principle, the true self, of every existent. Aquinas says-
that a thing is perfect in so far as it exists : Intantum est
autem perfectum unumquodque inquantum est in actu (Sum.
Theol., Q. V., A. I.) — and that everything is good so far as
it exists: Omne ens, inquantum est ens, est bonum (Sum.
Theol , Q. V., A. III.). The inversion of this is the fertile
truth: everything exists so far as it is good. Value and
value alone is substance or has substantial reality.

IV.

It is certainly true that Value is only actual in the various
things that are valuable : and it is only fully actual (though
this is of no consequence for our present purpose) so far
as it is appreciated by some conscious being. And it is
tempting to separate the Good from the good thing, and to
demand either some account of it in such separation or else
a method of apprehending it in separation. But to do this
is to repeat the mistake made by the Hedonists in Ethics.
When I am hungry, I want food and not (except incidentally)
the pleasure of eating. Desire is not of some one thing, such
as pleasure. And yet it is true that when I am hungry what
I want is the value or the good of food ; but this is not separ-
able from the food, and is not even properly distinguishable
from it, though it is distinguishable from other aspects of
the particular food in question which are irrelevant to my
hunger.

So Will aims at Good in all its forms ; and as God makes
the world, He beholds it as very good. There is the problem
of Evil of course, and it may be that it will wreck this whole
fashion of philosophy ; but we cannot embark upon the dis-
cussion of it here — I can only refer to an attempt to handle
it in my book Mens Creatrix. Our concern just now is with
the method which philosophy must pursue if it adopts this
principle that only Value has substantial being.

It is clear at once that Ethics and Politics, and ,ZEsthetics,
will be exalted alongside of Mathematics, as the typical
activities of Mind, and that on the whole they will be the
more normative for Metaphysic. The Universe will be ap-
proached less as a problem (or theorem) in Geometry, more

SYMBOLISM AS A METAPHYSICAL PEINCIPLE. 475

as a Drama or Symphony, and as a Society in process of
formation.

Now if the structure of Keality is such as we described,
and if the problem of Metaphysics is to be approached along
the lines now indicated, we begin to see a great unification
take place. The lower grades, we said, only attain to the
fulness of their own being so far as they are indwelt and
dominated by those above them. They exist then, ultimately,
to embody or symbolise what is more than themselves. The
universe is sacramental. Everything except the Creative
Will exists to be the expression of that Will, the actualisation
of its values, and the communication of those Values to
spirits created for the special value actualised through fellow-
ship in creation and appreciation of values. Men can do
some of this work themselves. Speech is a manipulation of
sounds for just such communication and fellowship. By
this doctrine the reality of the objects in the world is not
divorced from our sense of their significance. A friend gave
me during the war an illustration to show how familiar a
fact is the transvaluation, which on this theory is the only
true transubstantiation : Suppose a man comes to see me,
finds some strips of coloured calico on the floor, and amuses
himself by dancing on them to show his contempt for what he
takes to be my interests ; I may think him a tiresome fellow,
but that will be all : now suppose those bits of calico have
been sewn together to make my national flag, and he dances
contemptuously on it ; I shall kick him out of the house.

That is comparatively a trifling instance. In any case the
symbolism of a flag is purely conventional. Yet even here
it seems absurd to say that the reality of the flag is the
same as the reality of the strips of calico. The accidents (as
the schoolmen would say) are the same ; the substance is
changed.

Beginning with such a conventional symbol we may go on
to fuller symbolism such as that of great Art. Here the
principle emerges that to be a true or (as I have named it
elsewhere) an essential symbol, a thing must be itself an
individual instance of what it symbolises. So Othello can
symbolise jealousy because he is a very individual jealous
man. In great art, at least, the symbol is unique, and there
is no other way of saying what the artist has said. In
Emerson's great phrase " The word is one with that it tells
of ". If after reading King Lear or hearing the Fifth
Symphony a man asks what either means, we can only tell
him that each means itself ; but that is the extreme opposite
of saying that either is meaningless.

476 WILLIAM TEMPLE ;

In that highest sphere of creative art which we call human
conduct, the good or value sought is that of Personality (or
Character) in Fellowship, with all the varieties that 'this
implies. Actions have their value as symbolising and as pro-
ducing this.

It is clear that as we advance from the purely conventional
symbolism, represented by the flag, to the essential symbol
of great art or of ethical conduct, the subjective element is
reduced in importance, at least so far as it is variable. The
Union Jack has value only for those who are familiar with a
particular convention ; and to those who do know this it
may have very different values — for Lord Carson and Mr. de
Valera, for example. Yefc even here the value is constitutive
in so far as the flag is only made for the sake of the value.
But in the symbolism of Art and Conduct there is no such
variability. Men may still react in varying degrees of
intensity to the different embodiments of value; some are
more stirred by colour ; some more by line ; some are more
stirred by heroic energy, some more by patient humility.
But at this level there is no doubt what is the value ex-
pressed in the work of art or the moral action.

If we start with this principle of symbolism as our basis,
we shall not, I think, be led to any system very different in
its structure from such as is set out, for example, by Prof.
Pringle-Pattison. The difference will be mainly one of
emphasis and of detailed expression; but difference of this
kind will be all-pervasive. In ways innumerable the state-
ment will be (as I think) more luminous in detail, more
sympathetic. There will be more understanding of the
different phases of Eeality from the inside. For it is the
characteristic of aesthetic and moral appreciation that in
them we become absorbed in the object itself, as a single
whole, and understand it by letting it take possession of us,
whereas in science we understand partly by setting the
object in an ever- widening context and learning what forces
mould it from without, and partly by breaking it up analyti-
cally into its own constitutent elements. Of course our
method will not dispense with the processes and results of
science ; but it will depend quite equally, or rather more, on
those of art and morality. We shall not dispense with the
psychologist or sociologist ; but we shall expect to learn still
more of philosophic value from the dramatist and the states-
man. We shall still seek rational coherence, but shall
interpret it more as realised in the Civitas Dei than as repre-
sented by the solution of logical contradiction.

Above all we shall avoid two difficulties that are inherent

SYMBOLISM AS A METAPHYSICAL PEINCIPLE. 477

in the other method. We shall not try to treat the merely
physical as self-subsistent, leaving values to attach themselves
to it in a rather vague manner, while still declaring that the
explanation of the lower is in the higher ; but making this
declaration, we shall insist that the higher are the more nearly
self-subsisting, while only the Highest is altogether so. And
we shall not leave God to hover uncertainly between His
function as the universal ground of existence and His ad-
jectival attachment to the universe as the sum or realisation
of its values, but we shall confidently affirm Him as the sole
self-subsistent Being, existing in absolute independence of all
else, for whose pleasure and by whose creative activity all
things are and were created.

V.— DISCUSSIONS.
PHYSICS AND PERCEPTION.

MY purpose in what follows is to deal with certain questions raised
by Mr. C. A. Strong in his article on my theory of the external world
(MiND, July, 1922). Mr. Strong finds difficulties in certain points
of my theory of perception, which are really points in my theory of
physics. The main purpose of this whole outlook is, in my view,
to fit our perceptions into a physical context, and to show how they
might, with sufficient knowledge, become part of physics. I think
the questions at issue between Mr. Strong and me all concern
matter rather than anything psychological ; I shall therefore begin
by treating the topics to be discussed purely from the point of view
of physics.

Mr. Strong is surprised (p. 309) that I should suppose particu-
lars which are members of different pieces of matter to exist all at
the same place, in case the place is one reached by light from all
these different pieces of matter. He is also surprised (p. 310) that
objects are " apparently everywhere except in the place where we
see and feel them," and that " a multitude of events, all happening
after 12 o'clock, should be the constituents of an event happening
at 12 o'clock ". He points out, as though it were a consequence
I had not observed, that " the object, as physical science conceives
it, is not correctly defined as the system of all the perspectives . . .
but is rather their mathematical limit " (p. 311).

It is true that I maintain these propositions (to which I shall
return presently), and it is true that they are somewhat curious.
But the curiousness is that of modern physics, for which I am not
responsible. (I wish I were.) A piece of matter, according to
modern physics, has two aspects, one gravitational, the other electro-
magnetic. (If Weyl is right, as seems highly probable, these two
aspects can be reduced to one, but it is not necessary for me to as-
sume that this reduction is possible.) Both these consist of a field,
extending theoretically throughout space-time. The gravitational
field consists in a certain distortion of space-time, making it every-
where more or less non-Euclidean, but particularly so in a certain
neighbourhood, the neighbourhood in which we say the matter is.
The electromagnetic field consists of " something " (the physicist
cannot say more) which satisfies Maxwell's equations, and is like-
wise theoretically diffused throughout space-time, though with more
intensity in a certain neighbourhood. As Einstein puts it : —

BEETEAND EUSSELL : PHYSICS AND PEECEPTION. 479

" Da nach unseren heutigen Auffassungen auch die Elementar-
teilchen der Materie ihrem Wesen nach nichts anderes sind als
Verdichtungen des elektromagnetischen Feldes, so kennt unser
heutiges Weltbild zwei begrifflich volkommen von einander
getrennte, wenn auch kausal aneinander gebundene Realitaten,
namlich Gravitationsaether und elektromagnetisches Feld oder —
wie man sie auch nennen konnte — Kaum und Materie." l

In every little region of space-time, according to this view, there
are two things to be considered : first, the metrical structure of the
neighbourhood, which represents gravitation, and can be analysed
into a number of superposed gravitational fields, each with a centre,
which may be taken to be an electron ; secondly, the electromag-
netic field, which is similarly analysable. There are thus a number
of things happening everywhere always. What we call one
element of matter — say an electron — is represented by a certain
selection of the things that happen throughout space-time, or at
any rate throughout a large region. We cannot speak in any ac-
curate sense of the "history" of a piece of matter, because the
time-order of events is to a certain extent arbitrary and dependent
upon the reference-body. Each piece of matter has, however, a
" proper time," which is that indicated by clocks that share its
motion ; from its own point of view, this proper time may be used
to define its history. But it must be understood that a piece of
matter is only a convenient grouping of occurrences which extend
throughout space-time ; it is these occurrences, not matter, that
physics accepts as ultimate.

These occurrences are ordered in a four-dimensional continuum
called space-time, each "point" of space-time containing many
such occurrences. There are no accurate large-scale metrical re-
lations between occurrences in different regions, but within one
small neighbourhood there are approximate metrical relations,
which are more or less non-Euclidean according to the gravitational
field in the neighbourhood. All ultimate physical relations are
embodied in differential equations, and only hold accurately in the
infinitesimal. There are no longer such things as straight lines of
finite length, or time-intervals that are not very short. That is to
say, all relations between distant occurrences, even those that we
have been accustomed to regard as purely geometrical or chrono-
logical, proceed by propagation through the intervening region,
like light.

It is into a physical world of this description that we have to fit
our theory of perception.

Before proceeding to this task, there is a philosophical question
to be disposed of. Mr. Strong says : —

" Mr. Russell accepts the phenomenalistic principle — as we may
call the denial of the legitimacy of transcendence — and his theory
is, in the main, the application of it to perception. Does he

1 Aether und Relativitdtstheorie. Rede gehalten am 5 Mai, 1920. Ber-
lin, Julius Springer, 1920, p. 14.

480 BEETEAND EUSSELL :

adhere to it strictly everywhere ? The question is pertinent ; for a.
principle which you can disregard when it becomes inconvenient
is perhaps only a prejudice."

I have never called myself a phenomenalist, but I have no doubt
sometimes expressed myself as though this were my view. In fact,
however, I am not a phenomenalist. For practical purposes, I
accept the truth of physics, and depart from phenomenalism so far
as may be necessary for upholding the truth of physics. I do not,
of course, hold that physics is certainly true, but only that it has
a better chance of being true than philosophy has. Having ac-
cepted the truth of physics, I try to discover the minimum of
assumptions required for its truth, and to come as near to phen-
omenalism as I can. But I do not in the least accept the phen-
omenalist philosophy as necessarily right, nor do I think that its
supporters always realise what a radical destruction of ordinary
beliefs it involves.

I will try to make more explicit my attitude on this question,
Mr. Strong says : " You cannot go beyond your own sensations, or
the world as they present it to you " (p. 312). This position is not
maintained by Mr. Strong on idealist grounds, but on grounds of
straightforward theory of knowledge. His position is, I suppose,
that we have immediate knowledge of our sensations, but that this
knowledge is not of a sort to enable us to infer anything other than
our own sensations. I should reply : (1) that we do not immedi-
ately know either our own sensations or anything else ; (2) that no
atomic fact can ever be demonstratively inferred from any other
atomic fact ; (3) that, assuming the validity of induction and analogy
(on the lines set forth by Mr. Keynes), it is possible to make
probable inferences from one fact to another ; (4) that in such
inferences the inferred probable fact need not lie within our ex-
perience or anyone else's ; (5) that philosophy has immensely over-
estimated the importance of knowledge, which is merely a phy-
sical relation between physical occurrences, or at any rate does not
differ from this in any important way.

(1) The question of " immediate knowledge " can only be treated
historically ; it only arises when we have reached the stage of
Cartesian doubt. At this stage, we find ourselves with a system
of beliefs as a going concern, and it strikes us that some of these
beliefs are inferred, while others are not. It is difficult to define
what is meant by an " inferred" belief. When, for example, you
see a tree beginning to fall, you expect to hear a crash ; but this
belief as to the future has not been inferred by a logical process.
It is, however, derivative from what you see ; if your belief were
challenged, you could allege what you see in justification. All
beliefs which are in this wide sense derivative come within the
scope of Cartesian doubt, unless some logical process can be found
by which they might have been inferred from beliefs which are in
no sense derivative, or at any rate not derivative from other beliefs.
When we start to look for beliefs which are not derivative, we find,

PHYSICS AND PEECEPTION. 481

at first sight, three kinds : perceptions, memories, and logical
principles. To begin with the last : I suspect that logical principles
are really always propositions about symbols, and are derivative
from perceptions of geometrical (or quasi-geometrical) relations
among symbols. That is to say : a logical principle never asserts
that this can be inferred from that, but only that this symbol and
that have the same meaning ; the assertion that two symbols have
the same meaning is based upon a relation between their forms.1
It would take me too far from my theme to dwell further upon this
question. As for memories, it might be thought odd to include
them among non-derivative beliefs. I do not think one would
naturally include them in the usual case, where what is remembered
was perceived when it happened ; but when, as sometimes occurs,
we remember something which we did not notice at the time, it
seems as if the remembrance had the same claim to be regarded as
non-derivative as a perception would have. This brings us to
perceptions. Mr. Strong does not discuss my analysis of percep-
tion, which, so far as I know, is orthodox ; I assume that he does
not seriously disagree with it. Thus a perception consists of two
parts : (a) a core of sensation ; (b) images and beliefs called up by
the sensation through the influence of past experience. The second
part is derivative in an important sense, and must certainly be in-
cluded within the scope of Cartesian doubt, since the beliefs which
enter into it are sometimes erroneous. The first part does not
consist of beliefs, but is a mere occurrence, of just that kind with
which physics is concerned and by which its theories are empirically
tested. Moreover, it is a difficult question of theory to discover
the sensational core in a perception, and it is highly doubtful
whether it can be distinguished from the accompanying images
except by assuming an external world with which it is correlated
in a way that images do not exactly share. We are thus left with
nothing immediate except the core of sensation, which is not
knowledge, and is not itself immediately known.

(2) That no atomic fact can ever be demonstratively inferred
from any other atomic fact is again a view which I have taken from
Mr. Wittgenstein ; it obviously hangs together with his view of
logical principles. It is of course a view at least as old as Hume.
I do not see how anyone can dispute it who examines the nature
of logical inference. I do not mean to deny that from the fact that
two propositions are true we can infer that each of them severally
is true, nor do I mean to deny the validity of Barbara. But such
methods do not give new knowledge, and I do not see how the
methods of demonstrative logic can ever do so. An " atomic "
fact is one which does not consist of two or more facts ; it is im-
plied that it is not general.

(3) On the question of probable inferences by induction and
analogy, I am prepared for the moment to accept what Mr. Keynes

1 1 have adopted this view from Mr. Wittgenstein. See his forth-
coming work on Philosophical Logic (Kegan Paul).

31

482 BEKTEAND EUSSELL :

has to say, though I have no doubt that he has only laid down the
broad lines of a theory which can be amplified. I assume in
practice the validity of inductive methods as they occur in science,
although I do not think that the results obtained are certain. In
many cases they are far from certainty, but no other method will
lead to results having a higher degree of probability. It is because
of the absence of certainty that it is desirable to organise and in-
terpret science in the way involving fewest assumptions ; this is
the reason why, in practice, I approach as near to phenomenalism
as I can without destroying the whole edifice of science. What is
involved is not an absolute philosophical principle, but a method of
securing a higher degree of probability.

(4) When inferences are made by analogy and induction, what
is inferred need not lie within our experience or anyone else's. It
is clear, in the first place, that we only employ such inferences when
what we infer does not lie within our present or remembered ex-
perience. We therefore habitually assume that they are valid as
applied to future experience. If so, what can prevent them from
being valid as applied to something not experienced at all ? There
is of course the idealist position, according to which it is logically
impossible for anything to exist without being experienced; but
this, I gather, is not Mr. Strong's position. His view is merely that
there can be no valid inductive inference from what has been ex-
perienced to what will never be experienced. I do not know how
he would justify this view. Of course it is true that what is not
experienced cannot be directly verified, but it can form part of a
body of hypothesis of which other parts can be verified. It is natural
to suppose that Neptune existed before it was discovered. If you
see your cat running away with a fish which was in your larder, it
is natural to suppose that the cat has been in the larder. Such in-
ferences transcend experience in the way which Mr. Strong regards
as illegitimate ; but I do not see in what respect they fail to con-
form to the canons of inductive inference.

(5) Since Kant — perhaps since Hume — philosophy seems to me
to have overemphasised the importance of knowledge, and the
difference between what we know and what we do not know. Per-
haps the trouble goes further back, to the Cartesian emphasis on the
difference between mind and matter. It is clear that Mr. Strong
regards our visual perceptions as something very different from
what physics treats as light, and that his reluctance to infer beyond
experience is bound up with this belief that, if there is anything
beyond experience, it must be very unlike sensations. I believe
this to be a mistake. To my mind, the world is full of particulars
of the sort dealt with by physics, and some of these particulars
(namely those in places where, as we say, there is a brain) have
peculiar effects which are called " being known " or " being ex-
perienced " . I think that particulars (of which there are many in
one " point " of space-time) can be collected into sets of such a sort
that two neighbouring members of the same set differ very little.

PHYSICS AND PEECEPTION. 483

I think that when I see (say) a penny, what I perceive is one
member of the system which is the momentary penny, and that it
is that member which is situated (according to one meaning of
" situation ") in a certain part of my brain. I think that, very near
this part of the brain, there are closely similar unperceived par-
ticulars which are other members of the momentary penny ; there
is no solution of continuity in passing from what I perceive to the
outside particulars dealt with by physics.

If this view is correct, a mental occurrence is to be called a
"perception" when it has a certain kind of relation, based upon
certain differential laws of change (those of perspective, to the first
order), to a number of other occurrences all linked with each other
in the same way. Common sense imagines that there is a " thing "
which " causes " all these occurrences, but that is an unnecessary
hypothesis, which is avoided by defining the "thing" as the group
of these occurrences. Thus a " perception " is a member of a thing
occurring in a place where there are mnemic effects, and it is these
mnemic effects which give rise to what is called knowledge of the
thing.

Why should such a theory be thought probable? (I do not
claim that it is more than probable.) (a) Because it harmon-
ises physics, the physiology of the sense-organs, and psychology.
(b) Because it fits perception into that correlation by differential
equations to which all physical laws have been reduced, and
avoids treating perception as a case of action at a distance ; in other
words, because it is in harmony with the principle of continuity,
which, though not logically necessary, has been found increasingly
fruitful in science. (Continuity here is not to be understood in a
strict sense, but only in an approximate sense. In its strict sense
it is incompatible with the theory of quanta, and very likely false.)

My view of the relation of what we perceive to physics is the
same as that of Dr. Whitehead, who first persuaded me to adopt it.
I do not think that he would agree with my psychology in other
respects, but in this matter the view set forth in his two books is
practically the same as that which I am advocating. He holds, as
I do, that colours and sounds and secondary qualities generally
should not be extruded from the physical world. The habit of
shutting them out he calls the " bifurcation of nature ". But he
still allows a bifurcation between nature and mind, perhaps only
because he deliberately excludes mind from his theme. I wish to
include nature and mind in one single system, in a science which
will be very like modern physics, though not at all like the
materialistic billiard-ball physics of the past. A great deal of work
will be required to show in detail how the data of sense are to be
fitted into physics. What Dr. Whitehead and I have done so far
is only a small part of the necessary work, which probably neither
he nor I will be able to complete. I only want, as yet, to re-
commend the general point of view as a possible one, which de-
serves to be worked out.

484 BEBTEAND EUSSELL :

I will end with a discussion of some special points raised by Mr.
Strong. On page 309, he objects to the theory that, at a place from
which a number of objects are visible, perspectives of all of them
exist, on the ground that there is need of a lens to separate out the
different light-rays. He admits, however, that " the perspectives can
by analysis be separated out," and that is quite enough for me. You
cannot by analysis separate out what was not there. He argues
that, apart from something like a lens, " what exists there is only
a synthesis of effects, and not anything like the stars from which
the rays proceeded". Up to a point, this is true, and it accounts
for the vagueness of perception. I emphasised this point in
Analysis of Mind, pp. 135-136.

Space comes next. " What first strikes one in this theory is the
curious reversal of the spatial position of objects which it seems to
involve — objects being apparently everywhere except in the place
where we see and feel them" (Strong, p. 310). As I explained in
my book on the External World (which, however, laid too little
stress on relativity), we have to start with a private space-time for
each percipient, and generally for each piece of matter. The cor-
relation of these with the constructed public space-time is a long
piece of work, but obviously feasible. The " place where a par-
ticular is " is ambiguous ; it may mean the place where it is in its
perspective, or the place where it is in the system which is the
physical thing of which it is a member, or the place where this
thing is in public space-time. When these distinctions are borne
in mind, Mr. Strong's paradox disappears. The quotation from
Einstein with which I began shows that my view is in harmony
with modern physics.

Mr. Strong next objects to the similar paradox as regards time,
namely that the moment in public time to which an occurrence is
to be assigned is earlier than the various moments in public time
to which are to be assigned the particulars which are members (or
" appearances ") of the occurrence at various places. The answer
here is essentially the same as before. Public time is a convention,
which may be fixed in many equally legitimate ways ; it may
happen that A is before B according to one legitimate convention,
while according to another B is before A. All this is already in the
special theory of relativity. One need not therefore treat the time-
order of events with any undue respect.

One more point : " We may draw one inference from these
paradoxes, and that is that the object, as physical science con-
ceives it, is not correctly defined as the system of all the perspec-
tives (even of the 'regular' ones, i.e., those undistorted by the
interviewing medium), but is rather their mathematical limit "
(Strong, p. 311). I myself suggested this view in my book on the
External World, but rejected it 'for the reason that there is no limit
to which the appearances approach. For this reason, in Analysis
of Mind (pp. 106-107), I defined a piece of matter as that set of
appearances to which the set approximates which consists of a

PHYSICS AND PERCEPTION. 485

given appearance together with all those others which would exist
if the given appearance were regular. This is a limiting set, not a
limiting single appearance, and it exists when the limiting single
appearance does not. The device is essentially the same as that
of defining an irrational number as a certain class of rationals.
It must be understood that a "piece of matter" is not anything
real, but merely some constructed object having properties which
enable us to state shortly facts or laws concerning a whole set of
particulars that are real. In defining a piece of matter, therefore,
we are to be guided solely by convenience.

There are other points in Mr. Strong's article which I should
like to deal with, but I think what I should have to say about them
can be inferred by the reader from what I have already said. I
will, therefore, close this discussion, which is already long enough,
by expressing gratitude to Mr. Strong for having brought into
prominence so many important points.

BERTRAND BUSSELL.

REJOINDER.

WITH all respect to Mr. Russell, I doubt whether molecular physics
and the Einstein theory are relevant to the question. Perception
on its physical side is a relation of the large-scale sort, like that
by which an animal seeks food and avoids danger, is not injured
by poisons that are outside his body, does not hear a sound that is
too far away or too faint, and does not see in the dark, despite the
emanations from objects. In short, there is a clear distinction
between the organism and its environment, and Mr. Russell must
not use relativity to undermine the foundations of biology.

I agree with him in more respects than he, through having
misread (the fault, I am sure, is mine) a sentence that was meant
ironically, imagines. I do not deny that we can " go beyond our
sensations" — on the contrary, that is just what I assert, against
Mr. Russell (when he says that the thing of common sense is "an
unnecessary hypothesis "). But I agree with him that a sensation
is not intrinsically self-transcendent or knowing, and that it is not
immediately known ; I agree with him that perception rests on a
purely physical relation ; and my aim, like his, is to bring nature
and the self together into one single science which shall be like
physics. But I do not believe that perception is a purely physical
relation — I believe that it is one of significance ; and (here I come
to the vital issue between us) I hold that the " core of sensation "
— quite apart from the images — serves as the sign of, and is the
part of the self that enables us to know, what Mr. Russell would
call the rest of the object outside the body, and what I call the
object.

(1) Though objects consist of groups of electrons, it is not the
mere radiations of the electrons that enable us to perceive. In the
first place these radiations, after they reach the brain, are not a
part of the object, and it is a misuse of language to say that a table,
when I see it, is partly in my brain, or that a star which has been
extinguished, but rays of light from which continue to reach my
eyes, still partly exists. Yet this is the device by which Mr. Russell
and Mr. Whitehead would satisfy common sense, and include
colours and other secondary qualities in the object. In the second
place Mr. Russell (fortunately for him) recognises that the sensation
is tied to and varies with the brain, and this recognition (unusual,
I think, with neo-realists) has put him in a difficult position. If
he would not admit the
miracle at all), he must (:

' miracle of knowing ' (which is not a
in his physics, not in his philosophy)

c. A. STRONG: EEJOINDEE. 487

bring the object bodily into the brain. In truth, an object perceived
is no more in the brain than one seen in a mirror is really in the
mirror — in fact the one kind of in-being is exactly like the other.

(2) Mr. Eussell has slipped too easily out of my difficulty about
the lens. The intra-cerebral effects due to radiations from an
object, like the image on the retina, form a ' perspective ' (if you
mean by that a flat picture, or something whose hitherward end is
a flat picture) ; but they do so because the parts of the brain-process
are arranged in the same way as the parts of the object, and this is
impossible without a lens. The radiations outside the body have
no perspective form ; they are mere effects, and effects lost in a
synthesis with other effects ; to say that they are perspectives is as
if you said that a block of marble consists of statues. Thus Mr.
Russell's plan for securing the continued existence, I do not say of
objects (for the effects do exist continuously), but of ' perspectives/
comes to naught. There are no actual perspectives except when
some one perceives.

(3) It follows from this that there can be only one perspective
in the brain at a time. This perspective is not lodged in a point,
but in an extended field, an area. It is not true, then, that at a
neighbouring point in the brain there is another actual perspective ;
other actual perspectives are got, not by moving to another point
in the brain, but by moving the brain to another point — exactly as
if it were a camera.

(4) Mr. Russell's perspectives are of course not really in the
brain — they are merely dependent upon it ; and they are not flat
pictures merely, but views. Now that which makes the difference
between a flat picture and such a view (apart from the physical
character of the one and the, shall we say, metaphysical character
of the other) is the depth. And it is only the length and breadth
in the perspective that are immediately tied to the process in the
brain ; the depth depends on the adjustment of the optical muscles
and the way in which we react. Moreover, I think it is a fact of
observation that depth is not sensible in the same way, the same
visual way, that length and breadth are — depth is not coloured.
These are the facts that seem to me to justify the view that the
visual sensation has only length and breadth.

(5) A lower animal, with visual sensations but whom we may
suppose to be without images, refers the sensation to the outer
object by the way in which he reacts ; and reposes in the reality of
the object something which we may call instinctive trust. So long
as he does that, the vision of the object, what I have called the
view, appears to him ; but if he should drop his outwardly directed
attitude, he would be left with the mere flat picture, the sensation.
But suppose he should say to himself — while always acting as if
he saw something external — that theoretically, and as a matter of
economy of assumptions, the object was " an unnecessary hypo-
thesis " : he would now have remaining, not the sensation, but the
view or ' perspective '.

488 C. A. STEONG : EEJOINDEE.

If, now, this philosophic animal supposes views to exist when
nobody has them, and to be as numerous as physical points, he
will be a sort of neo-realist, and his philosophy may be described
as comminuted Leibniz. But perspectives, in this sense, are not
as numerous as physical points, they are only as numerous as
actual brain processes ; they do not exist actually when no one is
seeing, but only as possibilities; and perception in truth is a
function belonging only to animals, not, as Leibniz thought, to
every particle of matter. If, recognising these things, our phil-
osopher contents himself, apart from his own actual perspective,
with other perspectives that are mere possibilities, but conceives
the perspective as something that is at once an appearance and a
sensation, a view and a picture, his ' perceptions ' will have changed
from those of Leibniz to those of Hume. If, again, he clears the
appearance of its confusion with the sensation, and squarely throws
the external world overboard, interpreting it as his own egoistic
creation, his one perspective will be not less atomic, but it will be
that of Fichte.

But suppose he recovers some measure of his original trust in
the external — perhaps through the consideration that other people's
sensations are outside his own. Economy would now dictate that
he should stop short with sensations — I mean with that external
thing which he looks back at when he apprehends a sensation.
Since it is at least certain that there is a sensation somehow tied to
his own brain-process, which is necessarily external to the mind of
an anatomist viewing that brain-process, he may not unnaturally
conclude that what the anatomist sees is the sensation, and then,
by analogy, that so perhaps objects and events external to himself
are in their inner nature sensations, or like sensations : and the
philosophy that results will be that of Fechner and Clifford. It
seems to me that the direction in which Mr. Eussell and his
relativist friends are tending is this last.1

C. A. STRONG.

1 See Eddington, Space, Time and Gravitation, p. 192.

SOME REMARKS ON RELATIVITY.

PEOBABLY, by now, even philosophers have had enough of relativity,
but perhaps a few remarks on Miss Wrinch's discussion of the
Methodology of Relativity (MiND, April, p. 200) may be of interest ;
and also in this connexion I should like to point out — in a few
words — what seems to me to be a grievous logical error in the
theory of relations as expounded by some of Einstein's philosophical
followers.

As Miss Wrinch points out, " there are now various different
views of the characteristics of space" (and Time?) "held by
different writers on Relativity," but "there is still something of
fundamental. importance in their treatment of the notion of Space"
(and Time). In the second paragraph of her article this common
fundamental point is expressed by saying that " There is nothing
in the External World to which we can point as being represented
by the symbol for space ". We may express this by saying that
while the words " Space " and " Time " have meaning, they do not
denote objects. According to the Absolute Theory, however, Space
and Time are real existent bodies or series of points and moments ;
physical objects are related to Space and to Time, and Space and
Time are related to physical objects, for example things are in
Space, or occur at the same moment and so on ; and in general
the various spatial and temporal relations contain reference to
points of space or moments of time.

With the Relative theory all these points and moments are swept
away. Spatial and temporal relations hold directly between
physical objects and their full and complete analysis contains no
mention of points of Space or moments of Time or any object
that might be called Space or Time ; in the analysis of spatial
relations Einstein regards Space as an unperceived, unreal and un-
necessary tertium quid. With this theory, propositions like ' a is
in Time ' simply mean ' a is before, simultaneous or after some-
thing/ i.e., a is temporally related, ' b is in Space ' means ' b is
spatially related to something'. This is a general characteristic
of the treatment of Space and Time by Einstein and his followers
and I think it is the one to which Miss Wrinch wishes to draw our
attention, but I demur from her assertion that — in the language of
Modern Logic1 — "it consists in using Space as a description".

(a) It is more correct to say that it consists in using " Space "

1 The language of modern logic seems at the moment to be the language
of the Principia Mathematica.

490 B. AINSCOUGH :

as an ' incomplete symbol '. " Incomplete symbol " is a rather
unhappy phrase, it would be better to speak of " disappearing
symbols ". An incomplete symbol may be denned as one such
that if it occurs in the common expression of any proposition p it
does not occur in the logical analysis of p, that is in the determinate
and logically accurate expression of p.1 Thus an incomplete
symbol appears in the expression of ordinary thought and even in
the abbreviations of logic, but disappears from the full expression
of precise and accurate thought. And this is exactly what happens
to the symbols "Space" and "Time" in the formulations of the
theories of relativity. The words " Space " and " Time " may
occur in writings about the theory of relativity but not in the
precise and accurate formulation of the theory itself.

(b) The truth about " Space " being a description seems clear.
The actual word "Space" is not used as a description either by
the supporters of the Absolute or the Relative theory, but both
parties use spatial relations as descriptions or as parts of descrip-
tions. For the upholders of Absolute space the word "Space"
denotes a real object or set of points and for their opponents the
word is a disappearing symbol, that is so far as they speak with
logical precision they do not use it at all. But spatial relations, —
or rather the symbols expressing spatial relations, are used as
parts of descriptions by both parties.

Consider the examples given by Miss Wrinch. "The building
on my right is loftier than that." The symbol " The building on
my right " is a description, whatever may be the true theory of
Space or the true nature of the relation ' To the right of '.

Similarly " Equiangular triangles are equilateral " is a proposi-
tion analysable into the form —

with either the Relative or the Absolute theory.

Henca we cannot capture the distinctive characteristic of the
relative theory by saying that it uses Space or spatial relations as
descriptions.

Perhaps these two points can be exemplified and made clearer
by considering the last two sentences of Miss Wrinch's discussion ;
they are " But whichever part of the general investigation is being
undertaken, not in the case of any one of them is it significant to
ask ' What is Space '. It is the properties and not the intrinsic
nature of space which is the subject of investigation."

Discussing the latter sentence first, it should be rejected for the
reason that any investigation of the predicates of an object involves
an investigation of its qualities and this is the same as an investi-
gation of its intrinsic nature. It is more correct to say that with
the Theory of Relativity the subject of investigation is not space
or time but the spatial and temporal properties of objects, for space

1 This at least is the sense in which Russell uses it when he speaks of a
class as an incomplete symbol.

SOME EEMAEKS ON BELATIVITY. 491

and time are mere symbols which disappear when we speak with
logical precision. This is the reason why, for the theory of
relativity, it is never significant to ask " What is Space (or Time) ? "
For the symbols "space" and "time" can never be put in any
really precise proposition.1 They are in fact disappearing symbols.

Another point which seems worthy of careful consideration may
be briefly expressed by saying that Einstein and some of his
followers use the words that are used to denote spatial and tem-
poral relations, in an ambiguous manner. Let me explain this by
Einstein's use of the word " Simultaneous" as defined by him in
his Theory of Relativity, Chapter VIII. In that chapter Einstein
points out that the ordinary use of the word Simultaneous is of no
use to Physics except when used as connecting two objects which
can be observed together. To overcome this difficulty he gives a de-
finition of the way he proposes to use the word. His use of the
word may be provisionally denned like this. Consider two flashes of
lightning Fx and F2 : then we define Fj as being simultaneous to F2
if the crests of the light waves radiating from F: and F2 reach some
observer O situated at M the middle point of the line Fj F2, simul-
taneously. Now if we carefully consider this definition we see
that it uses the word "simultaneous" in two quite distinct and
different ways. Let us call these two relations ' primary simultane-
ity ' and 'secondary simultaneity'. The former represents the
ordinary use of the word simultaneous, the latter Einstein's use.
We may now somewhat emend our definition and say Fx and F2
are secondarily simultaneous when the crests of the light waves
radiating from them reach the observer O primarily simultaneously.2
This shows that primary and secondary simultaneity are quite
different relations. Primary simultaneity is a simple unanalysable
relation, symmetrical and transitive. Secondary simultaneity is a
complex relation analysable in the way that Uncle and Grandfather
are analysable, i.e., it consists in being related to a term or terms
standing in between the two related by the relation in question.
In this case the relation of F1 to F2 consists in Yl having the
relation of ' radiating ' to a certain wave crest of light say clt cl
having the relation of ' primary simultaneity ' to another wave
crest of light c2, and C2 being ' radiated by ' F2. The importance
of this distinction between primary and secondary simultaneity
is simply that, if the above is correct, then it disposes — once and
for all — of the assertion that Einstein has proved all spatial
and temporal relations to be relative. Primary simultaneity
is not a relative relation, things either are or are not primarily

1 This is not a contradiction. In this sentence the symbol " space " is
used to denote the symbol " space," i.e., the actual word " space " and not
something beyond the symbol. It is, of course, only when " space " is
used in its usual sense that it is a disappearing symbol.

2 Further qualifications are still required to make this definition precise,
they will be considered further on.

492 K. AINSCOUGH:

simultaneous, without any further qualification whatsoever. We
may go a little further in our opposition to some philosophical
writers on relativity ; but first let us make our definition somewhat
more accurate, although it will still be provisional. The aim and
spirit of Einstein's definitions is expressed by his dictum, "The
concept does not exist for the physicist until he has the possibility
of discovering whether or not it is fulfilled in an actual case ". l
Thus instead of setting out on the perhaps impossible task of
finding some instrument for telling whether physical objects are or
are not primarily simultaneous, he constructs the relation secondary
•simultaneity of such a nature that we can tell whether objects are
or are not secondarily simultaneous with the senses and instruments
at our disposal. Now it will be admitted that we do not observe
light waves but the sense-data or sensa caused by the impinging of
the light waves on the eye and we may agree that the sense-data
are primarily simultaneous with the actual striking of the wave
on the eye. Thus, keeping to Einstein's dictum, those objects
which must be primarily simultaneous in order for Fx and F2 to
be secondarily simultaneous will be objects which we can observe ;
they will therefore be two sense-data of Fx and F2 ; and our de-
finition will now read, Fj and F2 are secondarily simultaneous
when the two sense-data sl and s,, ' of ' or * manifested by ' Fj and
F2 respectively and observed by the observer O at the middle
point M, are primarily simultaneous. Similar definitions may be
given for secondarily before and after.

Now while agreeing with Einstein that we have no means of
telling whether physical objects — as distinct from sense-data — are
primarily before, simultaneous or after each other, it by no means
follows that they are not related by these relations ; and although
these relations may not exist for the physicist (as connecting
physical objects ; for they do exist, even for the physicist, when
connecting sense-data) they do exist for the philosopher.

The theory of relativity ignores the relations of primarily before,
simultaneous and after except when holding between sense-
data and by dealing with the corresponding secondary relations it
has achieved some most important and valuable results, but this
does not prove that the ignored relations do not exist. Thus
despite all the asseverations to the contrary, it is still possible to
maintain that every object is related by an absolute temporal
relation to every other object, although in many cases it is
impossible to tell whether an object is primarily before, simul-
taneous with or after another specified object.

It may be interesting, and may perhaps further elucidate the
difference between primary and secondary simultaneity, to con-
sider, from a logical point of view, what is meant by saying that
secondary simultaneity is a relative relation, and how it happens
that it is a relative relation. We have seen that when Einstein
says ' Fj is simultaneous to F2 ' he ought to say * Fj is secondarily

1 Theory of Relativity, p. 22.

SOME EEMABKS ON EELATIVITY. 493

simultaneous to F2 ' ; and by this he means that two crests of light-
waves radiated by Fx and F2 are primarily simultaneous, or more
correctly that two of the sense-data Sj and S2 manifested by Fl
and F2 are primarily simultaneous ; and he must then definitely
specify 8j and S2 out of the many sense-data manifested by Fl and
F2. "Fj is secondarily simultaneous to F2" means therefore that
a certain pair of the sense-data manifested by Fx and F2 are
primarily simultaneous ; but unless we specify which pair, the
assertion remains ambiguous and indeterminate, for there is a very
large, if not an infinite, number of pairs of sense-data manifested
by Fj and F2 that are or could be observed by persons situated
around Fa and F2. Einstein restricts the range of pairs of sense-
data by framing his definition so that ~Fl is secondarily simultane-
ous to F2 when the pair of sense-data, manifested by Fj and F2
and observed by a person situated on the plane passing through
the middle point of the line F: F2 and at right angles to it, are
primarily simultaneous. This however is still indeterminate,,
and the whole of the relativity of simultaneity results from the
indeterminateness of this definition. With this indeterminate
definition the assertion that Fx is secondarily simultaneous to F^
is equivalent to saying that a pair of sense-data are primarily
simultaneous ; but this pair of sense-data is not uniquely specified,
being merely specified as one pair out of a class of pairs. The
assertion ' Fx is secondarily simultaneous to F2 ' is really about
four terms, Fj F2 and two sense-data ; but while it uniquely specifies
Fl and F2 it does not uniquely specify the sense-data. Assertions
of this type may be called relative, if, when you qualify the asser-
tion and in doing so uniquely specify the objects otherwise not
uniquely specified, some qualifications make the complete assertion
true and some false. This is exactly what happens with ' F: is
secondarily simultaneous to F2'. The qualifications such as ' from
such a point of view/ ' as measured from such a reference body,'
etc., serve to specify the sense-data of Fx and F2 of which we are
speaking. As is easily seen, because of the constant but finite
velocity of light, if some of these qualifications give a true assertion
then some others will give a false assertion. The proposition F1
is secondarily simultaneous to F2 may be compared with the pro-
position 'P is highly probable'. Both are really only half
propositions. The former is about four objects Fx, F2 and two light
waves, or more correctly, F1? F2 and two sense-data, but only
specifies half the objects, i.e., Fx and F2 ; the latter is about p
and a certain body of knowledge, but only specifies p.

This account of the relativity of simultaneity has been much longer
than I intended, but if it is correct it shows, (1) that there are two
meanings given to the word " simultaneous " as used by relativists
and that only with one meaning is simultaneity relative. (2) That
the relativity of simultaneity (a) gives the same amount of support
to the theory of the Relativity of truth as is given by the relativity
of propositions like ' P is highly probable,' which is no support at

494 E. AINSCOUGH :

all ; (b) has nothing at all to do with the activity of minds. The
qualifications ' for that observer,' ' as measured by so and so/ do
not mean that the proposition " Fx is simultaneous to F2 " is true
for one person and false for another ; as it stands unqualified it is
really only half a proposition and is neither true nor false, the
qualifications are only ways of completing it, and the reference to
the observer is merely a way of uniquely specifying the two light
waves or sense-data involved in Yl being simultaneous to F2 : any
other way of uniquely specifying these two light waves or sense-
data would serve equally well.

(3) As regards subjectivity: (a) If we only loosely follow
Einstein's dictum * That a relation is not to be used unless we
have a possibility of telling whether it holds in any actual case,'
we can state the relativity of simultaneity for a world without
minds or anything mental at all ; (b) if we strictly follow the above
dictum then science is forced to recognise that we do not observe
physical objects but only the sense-data of physical objects. This
may be a new truth for science, but it is not new to philosophy ;
see for example Mr. Russell's article on ' The relation of sense-
data to physics,' published in 1914.

All the above arguments only apply to simultaneity, but I think
they can be generalised to cover all the other relations dealt with
by the theory of relativity. For example Dr. Wildon Carr in
MIND, April, 1922, p. 177, says "... the straight line of every
observer is curved for other observers." I suggest that he will
find that such a proposition, if it occurs in the books of the relativists,
does not mean that a line is both straight and curved, but rather
something like this : "If the projection of a moving point on a
plane Px is a straight line, then its projection on another plane P2
where P2 moves relative to Px, is a curved line," or "If the
appearances (i.e., the sense-data) of a moving point from one body
are straight, then the appearances from another body are curved ".
And in general in all such propositions there is a multiplicity of
objects concealed by the brevity of expression.

The general conclusion of these remarks is that the theory of
relativity from the point of view of philosophy would be more
appropriately called the theory of half-propositions ; that it has
proved certain complex relations to be relative but that the relations
usually denoted by the words " simultaneous," " before," " after,"
" straight," "curved," etc., are nob relative; that we can only tell
whether objects have these non-relative predicates when they are
objects of immediate awareness, i.e., sense-data ; and that science
is beginning to realise that we only observe the sense-data of
physical objects, a view which is not new to philosophy.

The following flight of imagination may be of interest to philo-
sophers and even to physicists.

" Once upon a time there was an earth inhabited by a race of
men, all totally blind. Their distance perception depended on
sound. In the course of time there arose an Einstein, blind, but

SOME EEMAEKS ON EELATIVITY. 495

of infinite genius, and he propounded a theory of relativity. This
theory was exactly the same as the modern theory of relativity
except that where we say 'light' they said 'sound'. With this
theory they proved many strange results ; for example nothing
could travel faster than sound. And using this theory two philo-
sophers proved that all truth was relative. Yet it was absolutely
true that mind alone was real ; there was no substratum of any
kind in nature ; the monads alone supplied everything ; and step
by step the Hegelian dialectic carried the Universe into higher
and higher degrees of truth and spiritual reality.

" But God smiled ; and when He saw that man had become
perfect in optimism and credulity, He sent another earth through
the sky, which crashed into the blind men's earth ; and all again
returned to nebula.1

" For the truth of relativity was itself only relative, it related only
to a small selection of temporal and spatial relations ; and there
was much in their world that was neither man-made nor man-
measured but moved by the unmotived forces of nature."

Whether this is a true analogue of the modern theory of re-
lativity I am neither sufficient philosopher nor physicist to decide.
But it would be well if it were so ; for who, having compared the
idealism of the ' Reign of relativity ' with the realism of ' The
Dynasts,' will not agree that the latter rings more true ?

R. AINSCOUGH.

1 Adapted from the story told to Dr. Faustus, as related in "The Free
Man's Worship ".

VI.— CEITICAL NOTICES.

Logic, Part II. (Demonstrative Inference). By W. E. JOHNSON,
Cambridge University Press, 1922. Pp. xx, 258.

THE second volume of Mr. Johnson's great work on Logic deals
with demonstrative inference, deductive and inductive. It is
perhaps even more interesting than the first volume, on account
of the extreme practical importance of its main subject, and also
on account of the digressions on such matters as Magnitude and
Symbolism. It covers the whole range of mathematical reasoning,
and it also deals with those types of argument which Mill tried,
not too successfully, to classify in his Inductive Methods. In-
cidentally it contains almost the only good criticism that has yet
appeared on a number of fundamental, but rather technical, points-
in Russell's Principles of Mathematics.

The work opens with an Introduction, which clears up certain
points in vol. i., and restates Mill's criticisms on the syllogism in •
terms of the distinction between Epistemic and Constitutive Con-
ditions, which was drawn in the first part.

Chapter i. discusses the general nature of inference, and its
connexion with implication. Mr. Johnson says that implication
is " potential inference," and holds that, although implication and
inference are distinct, neither of them can be understood except in
terms of the other. He thinks that it follows from this that we
ought rather to say "p would imply g" than "p implies q," and
he actually adopts this mode of statement throughout the book,
It seems to me that this is not true, and that it does not follow
from the identification of implication with potential inference. If

in inferring q (if_yj™ Jmejw

But I cannot see why this should make
us introduce the potentiality into the statement about implication,
and say that p would imply q rather than that p does imply q. To
take an analogy. We might say that "threatening" is "potential
injuring". But this does not mean that we ought to confine our-
selves to statements like " A would threaten B ". On the contrary
we say that " A does threaten B " whenever it is true that " A
would injure B (if he could) ". This criticism is not merely verbal,
as may be seen from the following examples. I should say : (1)
MaP and SaM do imply SaP ; (2) MaP would imply SaP (if the
premise SaM were added) ; and (3) MaP would not imply SeP under

w. E. JOHNSON, Logic. 497

any circumstances (because there would be illicit process of P).
Now I do not see how (1) and (2), which are clearly different,
could be distinguished in Mr. Johnson's terminology, since he
would have to put (1) in the form " MaP and S&M would imply
S&P ". The phrase " would imply " seems only to be appropriate
to cases like (2) ; and, if it be used for cases like (1), we are left
with no appropriate expression for the former.

It is implied in ch. i. and definitely asserted in ch. ii, p. 30, that
" there is no single relation properly called the relation of implica-
tion ". What Mr. Johnson means is that to say that p implies q
is simply to say that q could be inferred from p, and that this is
true when and only when one or other of several specific types of
formal relation hold between p and q. In ch. i., § 4, Mr. Johnson
says that there are two fundamental relations between p and q,
which justify inference from the former to the latter. These re-
lations are formulated by him in two Principles of Inference, the
Applicative and the Implicative. The Applicative Principle states
that, if p be of the form All S is P, and q be of the form The given
S is P, then q can be inferred from p. The Implicative Principle
states that if p be a compound proposition of the form (x)-and-
(x implies y} whilst q is of the form y, then q can be inferred from
p. All deductive inference rests on these two principles ; and,
therefore, I take it, all implication depends on one or other of the
two types of relation mentioned in these principles.

There is no particular difficulty about the Applicative Principle,
but there is a question to be raised about the Implicative Principle.
This professes to state one of the types of relation which must hold
between p and q if p is to imply q. But it presupposes that p itself
already contains two propositions .r and y, of which the former
implies the latter. The question at once arises : Of what nature
is the relation between x and y, in virtue of which x implies y ?
If there be just two relations — the Applicative and the Implicative
—which give rise to implication, it would seem that the implication
which is involved in the very statement of the Implicative Principle
must itself rest on either the Applicative or the Implicative rela-
tion. If this be so, I do not see how the Implicative Principle can
be taken as expressing one of the two fundamental types of relation
on which implication depends. It would seem that the implication
which is involved in the Implicative Principle must at last rest on
the Applicative Eelation, on pain of an infinite regress. If so, the
Applicative Principle is more fundamental than the Implicative
Principle.

In ch. ii., § 3, p. 30, Mr. Johnson attempts a more accurate
statement of the Implicative Principle, but it does not meet the
difficulty that I have just pointed out. He there reformulates the
principle as follows : " There are certain specifiable relations such
that, when one or other of these subsists between two propositions,
we may validly infer the one from the other ". It is, I think,
perfectly clear that this is not a reformulation of the Implicative

32

498 CRITICAL NOTICES:

Principle, as originally stated on p. 11, and that it is not consistent
with the statement on p. 10, that the Implicative Principle ex-
presses one of the " two fundamental relations which will render
the inference from p to q . . . formally valid." To say that there
are some relations which will render the inference valid is not to state
one of the two fundamental relations which justify inference. In
fact it is obvious that the Implicative Principle in its second formu-
lation would be true if implication rested on no other relation
beside that mentioned by the Applicative Principle.

There is thus certainly some inconsistency in Mr. Johnson's
language, and I am a good deal puzzled both as to what he really
means and as to what is the truth of the matter. I would tenta-
tively offer the following suggestions. (1) The Applicative Prin-
ciple really does state one fundamental type of relation between
two propositions, such that, whenever it holds, the former implies
the latter. (2) If you grant the Applicative Principle, the ImplT-
cative Principle, in Mr. Johnson's second formulation, immediately
follows. This is sufficient to show that the second formulation does
not adequately express what Mr. Johnson means by the Implicative
Principle ; for he certainly understands by it something which is
parallel to and independent of the Applicative Principle. (3) The
Implicative Principle, as originally formulated, does express one
of the relations on which implication rests. But it only applies
to the special case where one of the propositions is a complex, one
of whose parts itself involves an implication. And this implication
must in the end presumably rest on some other type of formal re-
lation than that which is formulated in the Implicative Principle.
If it were true that there are only two fundamental types of re-
lation which generate implications, it would seem that the
Applicative relation must be more fundamental than the Implica-
tive, in the sense that the implication which is involved in the
premise to which the Implicative Principle is applicable must
ultimately rest on the Applicative relation. But I do not know
why there should not be many different formal relations which
give rise to implications. And, although Mr. Johnson seems to
hold on p. 10 that there are only two, he seems to make no such
restriction on p. 30. (4) In fact I take it that there are many
independent formal relations which generate implications. E.g.,
if p has the form P, and q has the form (P or Q) they are so related
that p implies q. And this depends neither on the Applicative nor
on the Implicative Principle. What then is the special importance
of the Applicative and Implicative Principles ? (5) It seems to
me that their great importance is as generative principles. It is
by them, and by them alone, that we can deduce chains of new
truths from a few suitable primitive propositions. The primitive
propositions state certain independent and immediately obvious
formal implications, like p implies (p or q). These give us premises
of the kind to which the Implicative Principle can be applied.
Again the Applicative Principle allows us to substitute what Mr.

w. E. JOHNSON, Logic. 499

Johnson calls " connected complexes " for the simple terms in the
primitive propositions, and thus to reach new truths by what he
calls " functional deduction ". If we read a work like Principia
Mathematica, we see that, once the primitive propositions have
been laid down, all further progress is made by repeated use of
these two principles. Mr. Johnson is therefore justified in the
importance which he ascribes to them, though, as I have said,
some of the statements which he makes about them seem to me
puzzling, and at least verbally inconsistent.

Mr. Johnson next makes some very interesting observations on
the applicational and the implicational forms of inference. As an
example of a purely applicational argument he takes such an ex- \
ample as : " All propositions have predicates, therefore Matter
exists has a predicate". Now the question arises: Is there not a
suppressed premise, viz., " Matter exists is a proposition " ; and is
not the argument therefore a syllogism, which Mr. Johnson regards
as involving both the applicative and the implicative principles ?
To this he answers that the supposed premise is really, from the
very nature of the case, superfluous. We cannot attach any
meaning to the phrase Matter exists unless we know that it is a
proposition, and it is therefore superfluous to state that it is a pro-
position. Mr. Johnson makes two statements about such pro-
positions which are verbally inconsistent. On p. 14 he says that
they are not genuine propositions. At the foot of the same page
he says that they are propositions of a peculiar kind, which he
proposes to call structural. A structural proposition is not simply
verbal, for it is not about words. What it does is to assert a general
category of the subject. But it does not add to our knowledge,
because the subject has to be given to us under this general cate-
gory before we can specify it at all in a judgment. A category is
a determinable or set of determinables, and all judgment consists
of specifying the determinate forms in which a subject exhibits
those determinables under which it must be given to us if we are
to be able to think of it at all. When a superfluous premise is
added to convert a purely applicative argument into a syllogism,
Mr. Johnson calls the premise a sub-minor.

We can now understand Mr. Johnson's analysis of the ordinary
subsumptive syllogism. Take the syllogism: "All equilateral
triangles are equiangular, the triangle ABC is equilateral, therefore
it is equiangular ". Mr. Johnson would analyse this somewhat as
follows : —

Everything with sides and angles (M, P) is equiangular (p) if
•equilateral (m).

Therefore the triangle ABC is equiangular (p) if equilateral (m).
(Applicative Principle.)

The triangle ABC is equilateral (m).

Therefore the triangle ABC is equiangular. (Implicative
Principle.)

Here M and P are the determinables under which the object in

500 CBITICAL NOTICES:

question is given. The major states an universal connexion be-
tween one determinate under M and one determinate under P.
No premise of the form " The triangle ABC has sides and angles "
is needed, for such a proposition is merely structural.

Mr. Johnson points out that it is possible to make a really im-
plicative argument look applicative by introducing a superfluous
major, just as it is possible to make a really applicative argument
look implicative by introducing a superfluous minor. This would
happen if you were to take the formal Barbara (MaP . SaM implies
SaP) as a premise in some particular argument in Barbara. There
is a positive inconsistency in doing this, for the principle of the
syllogism in Barbara states that the premises of Barbara are by
themselves sufficient to justify the conclusion, and you stultify this
if you introduce the principle itself as & further premise.

The remaining point to notice in this chapter is Mr. Johnson's
clear distinction between the constitutive and the epistemic con-
ditions of valid inference. The constitutive condition is that the
premises shall be true and shall imply the conclusion. The epis-
temic condition is that you shall be able to know that the premises-
are true and that they imply the conclusion without having to know
beforehand that the conclusion is true. It is clear that in a great
many cases, e.g., where the major is proved by induction, or is-
self-evident, or is accepted on authority, and where the formal
connexion between it and the conclusion can be intuited, these
conditions are fulfilled.

We may take chapters ii. and viii. together, for they introduce us
to the unusually extended sense in which Mr. Johnson uses the
term induction. The Applicative and Implicative Principles as-
sume that we have already got a number of universal premises to
work with. How do we get these ? Always by something of the
nature of induction, according to Mr. Johnson. Now this might
at first make the reader think that Mr. Johnson is an empiricist ;
but this is far from being so. We do not start by seeing axioms in
their generality, we get to know them by reflecting on particular
instances. The process by which this happens is called Intuitive
Induction. Mr. Johnson defines Induction in ch. viii., as a process
by which we start from certain instantial premises and reach a
conclusion which is a generalisation of these premises. (It would
not be enough to say that the conclusion is wider than the least
wide of the premises, for, as we shall see, Mr. Johnson holds that
many purely deductive arguments have this characteristic.)

Now I think that this definition of induction would generally be
accepted. And it is certain that the process of seeing an axiom by
reflecting on particular instances of it answers to this definition, if
it be a process of inference at all. Hence Mr. Johnson is quite
consistent in saying that all principles and major premises are
ultimately reached by some kind of induction. And it does not
make him an empiricist, for an empiricist would hold that they are
all reached by that particular kind of induction which Mr. Johnson

w. E. JOHNSON, Logic. 501

calls Problematic. Problematic induction leads only to probable
conclusions, needs special axioms or postulates, and is left to be
treated in the next volume. But there are three processes of in-
ference which answer to the definition of induction, lead to con-
clusions which are as certain as their premises, and are treated in
the present volume. These are Intuitive, Summary, and Demon-
strative Induction ; and it is the first of these which establishes the
fundamental principles of inference themselves, and the self-evident
axioms which form the major premises of pure logic, mathematics,
etc.

Mr. Johnson distinguishes two principles of Intuitive Induction
which he calls the Counter -applicative and the Counter -implicative
Principles. The first may be stated as follows : " Sometimes we
can see that what is true of this instance is true of any other in-
stance, and then we can be sure that it is true of all instances ".
The second can be stated as follows : " Sometimes when we have
made a particular inference which is valid we can see that its
validity is due to a certain type of formal relation which holds be-
tween premise and conclusion". I can then conclude by the
Counter- Applicative Principle that any argument of this form will
be valid. These principles cannot be formulated so that we can
safely use them blindly, as we often can the direct Applicative and
Implicative Principles. Insight into the special subject matter
which forms our instances is necessary.

In ch. ii. we are given a very useful division of propositions into
a hierarchy, which I will now exemplify. We have (1) Supreme
principles of inference, such as the Applicative, Counter-applicative,
etc. (2) (a) Formal axioms, such as p implies q-or-p. (b) Formal
propositions deduced from these axioms by the deductive prin-
ciples in (1), e.g., if q implies r then p-implies-q implies p-implies-
r. (3) (a) Particular instances of (2a), from which (2a) are derived
by principles of intuitive induction contained in (1), e.g., Jones is a
knave implies (Broivn is a fool)-or-(Jones is a knave). (3) (b) Par-
ticular instances of (25), e.g., the particular syllogism in Barbara to
prove that George V is mortal. (36)-propositions follow from the
corresponding (3a)-propositions by the Applicative Principle. The
dividing line between (2a) and (26) is not of course perfectly sharp,
since different propositions are taken as axioms in different
systems. (4) (a) Experientially certified propositions, like This
patch is red. (4) (b) Deductions from these made in accordance
with the axioms and principles of the higher levels. The dis-
tinction between the two sub-groups here is again not sharp, be-
cause no two people are agreed as to precisely what is certified by
mere sense-experience and what is inferred from it.

Chapter iii. deals with Symbolism and Functions, and is far the
best account that I know of these subjects. It contains a severe
criticism on the inconsistencies of Mr. Russell's account of pro-
positional functions. Mr. Johnson begins by dividing symbols into
shorthand and illustrative. The former are simply abbreviations

502 CKITICAL NOTICES I

for words like and, or, implies, etc. They stand for formal or
logical entities and may be called formal constants. This means
that they have precisely the same significance wherever they occur,
and that this significance is part of the subject matter of pure
logic. The word white, or any shorthand symbol that we might
use for it, is a material constant. That is, it is the name of a
certain definite entity which does not belong to the subject matter
of pure logic. Certain shorthand symbols might, for all we know
at the outset, be either material or formal. The figure 2 would be
an example. We might reasonably think that it was a material
constant, like white, but it turns out to be formal if we accept
Kussell's and Whitehead's proof that arithmetic contains no
fundamental concepts which do not belong to pure logic.

Illustrative symbols are the P's and Q's, x's and y's, of formal
logic and algebra. Mr. Johnson calls such symbols variables.
It will be noticed that he confines the names constant and variable
to words and symbols, and does not apply them to what these
denote. According to him, illustrative symbols are singular names
of a peculiar kind. Their peculiarity is that they " stand for " any
one of a whole set of ordinary singular names. Thus in " x is
mortal " the symbol x stands indifferently for the names " Socrates,"
" Plato," " The Man in the Iron Mask," and all other names (say)
of persons. There seems to me to be a verbal inconsistency in
Mr. Johnson's statements on this point. After saying that s in
" s is p " stands for any substantive- name, he goes on to say (p. 60)
that " p stands for any one indifferently assignable adjective com-
prised (say) in the class colour". It is clear that he here means
adjective and not adjective-name; for the adjective-name "red" is
not comprised in the class colour, whilst the adjective red, which
it denotes, is. Now it is clearly inconsistent to make the variable
s stand for substantive-wawes and not substantives, whilst you
make the variable p stand for adjectives and not adjective-names.
I think the verbal confusion arises through the ambiguity of
" standing- for," which sometimes means " acting as representative
for" and sometimes means "denoting". S stands for the names
" Socrates," etc., in the sense that it equally represents any one of
them. P stands for the colours red, etc., in so far as it represents
equally any one of a set of names each of which denotes a certain
colour.

Variables are closely connected with functions, and functions
according to Mr. Johnson are bound up with constructs. A
function is the identity of form which can pervade many constructs
constructed out of different terms. Thus p-or-q and r-or-s are
two constructs out of r and s, p and q, respectively. And both
exemplify the alternative function. The terms in a construct, for
which substitutions may be made without changing the nature of
the construct, are called variants by Mr. Johnson ; and the illustra-
tive symbols for variants are of course variables.

This definition of function is consistent with the sense in which

w. E. JOHNSON, Logic. 503

it is used in mathematics. Mr. Johnson has no difficulty in
showing that Eussell's various uses of the term prepositional
function are consistent neither with each other nor with the
common usage. The whole of what Mr. Johnson says on this
subject is well worth reading, and seems to me perfectly conclusive.

One other very interesting point in this chapter is Mr. Johnson's
view that verbal phrases like Smitk-and-Brown or Smith-or-Brown
do not denote genuine logical constructs, whilst phrases like white-
and-hard or white-or-hard do. The only apparent exception that
I can think of would be propositions like "Smith and Brown are
a couple," which clearly cannot be analysed into " Smith is a couple
and Brown is a couple ". But Mr. Johnson would no doubt meet
this by his distinction between the conjunctive and the enumera-
tive and.

Chapter iv. deals with the ordinary formal development of the
syllogism. I need scarcely say that this is done as well as it could
be done. There are just three points worth special mention.
(1) Mr. Johnson criticises the ordinary method of reaching the valid
moods by laying down rules and striking out the moods that con-
flict with them. He justly points out that this will not suffice to
guarantee the validity of those that are left. For this a positive
set of dicta is needed. These Mr. Johnson supplies. (2) In place
of the by no means obvious rule that a negative conclusion needs a
negative premise Mr. Johnson substitutes the proposition that
three classes S, M, and P, can be co-extensive. As a matter of
fact the rule in question is only needed to cut out the mood
PaM . MaS implies SoP. To deny the validity of this is equivalent
to saying that SaP, MaS, and PaM are consistent ; and this is
equivalent to Mr. Johnson's rule, as the reader can easily see for
himself. (4) Mr. Johnson makes a practical remark which all who
have to teach elementary logic will do well to bear in mind. In
giving examples of syllogisms we should take care that our premises
and our conclusions are neither obviously true nor obviously absurd.
The former error will make our students confuse formal validity
with material truth, the latter will make them think that the
syllogism is a mere game. Mr. Johnson recommends examples
from casuistry, economics, and politics, and supplies some amusing
examples about the veracity of my Lord Grey, which he apparently
regards as neither axiomatic nor obviously incredible.

Chapter v. deals with what he calls the Functional Extension of
the Syllogism. Here the major is a numerical law of the form
P == /(M), e.g., the gas law. The minor is of the form : " In this
case M has the value m ". The conclusion is : " In this case P
has the value p, which = f(m) ". (Where Mr. Johnson got his ex-
traordinary expression for the gas law — T = 239PV — is more than
I can imagine.)

The rest of the chapter is mainly taken up with cases where we
are given (say) P as a function of A, B, C, D, and we try to get (say)
A as a function of P, B, C, D.

504 CBITICAL NOTICES:

Chapter vi. is extremely important ; for it deals, under the
heading of Functional Deduction, with all the reasoning of pure
mathematics, except that of Euclidean geometry, which Mr.
Johnson considers to have certain peculiarities of its own. The
premises of functional deductions are equations of the form
/(A,B,C) = <£(A,B,C) for all values of the variables. The argument
is applicative, and takes place by substituting connected complexes
for simple variants in these functions. If for A you substitute
(x + y) and for B (x - y)t for instance, the two expressions would
be connected constructs because of the common terms x and y in
both. To take a very simple example ; from the formula (a + b)
(a- b) = a2 - b2 we derive the formula ±xy = (x + y)* - (x - y)'2
by substituting for a and b respectively the connected complexes
(x + y) and (x — y).

Mr. Johnson points out two important characteristics of this type
of reasoning. (1) It is demonstrative, and yet can lead to con-
clusions which apply more widely than the premises, and (2) it is
impossible to reduce it to syllogistic reasoning. As regards the
first point his meaning is the following. Suppose you start with a
premise that involves two distinct variants, A and B. Then, if A
be susceptible of n values and B of m, it is clear that the formula
covers mn cases. Now substitute for A and B respectively the two
connected complexes /^(A^O) and /2(A,B,C), and suppose that C
is susceptible of p values. We shall derive a general formula about
A, B, and C which will cover mnp cases. If we are dealing with
ordinary algebraical formulae all our variables are supposed to be
capable of representing any number, and so m — n = p = 2 X°,
the number of the arithmetical continuum. In this case the actual
number of cases to which the conclusion applies is the same as the
number to which the premise applies ; for mnp = mn = m, when
we are dealing with transfinite cardinals. Nevertheless, \it remains
true that the cases covered by the conclusion contain all and more
than all the cases covered by the premise ; just as Space contains
all and more than all the points on any straight line, although the
cardinal number of points in a line is the same as that of the points
in the whole of Space.

There is a point here which Mr. Johnson does not bring out ex-
plicitly. Suppose that your premise was a formula whose variants
were definitely confined within a certain range of values, could you
be sure that all substitutions of connected complexes would be
valid ? It seems to me that you could not. Suppose, e.g., that
your premise was a formula about X and Y, and that the values of
X were restricted to integers between 0 and 3, and the values of Y
were restricted to integers between 2 and 5. Then any attempted
argument which proposed to substitute (X + Y) for X would break
down. For the only possible values of (X + Y) would be 4, 5, and
6, all of which lie outside the range of possible values for X. Thus
the fact that the range of variation of all the variables in an alge-
braical formula is the whole number-continuum seems to be an

w. E. JOHNSON, Logic. 505

important condition of the general validity of this type of deduction.

The second peculiarity of functional deduction may be illustrated
as follows. By purely syllogistic reasoning we could not prove
anything about the numbers which are divisible by both 2 and 3,
which is not also true of all numbers divisible by 2 and of all
numbers divisible by 3. But by functional deduction we can prove
properties which are true of this particular species of numbers and
are not true of either of the genera to which it belongs.

The last point to notice in this chapter is the very severe criti-
cism of Eussell's Principle of Abstraction. Mr. Johnson agrees
that Mr. Eussell proves the proposition which goes under this
name, provided we grant the reality of classes, which Eussell
himself afterwards attempts to deny. But he holds that the pro-
position which is proved is so tame as to be of no philosophical
interest whatever. Mr. Johnson is no doubt right on both counts.
But, as regards the first, I should think it would be quite easy for
Eussell to restate the Principle in terms of his " no-class " theory,
for he does not get rid of classes and substitute nothing whatever
for them. As regards the second, the criticism is perfectly valid
against some applications which Eussell made of the Principle
in his hot youth. (I think I am doing him no injustice when I
say that at one time he thought he had proved the absolute theory
of time by the Principle of Abstraction.) But I presume that these
were peches de jeunesse, over which Mr. Eussell would wish now to
draw a veil.

Chapter vii. is a long and interesting one on the Different Kinds
of Magnitude. I can only briefly indicate some of the more in-
teresting points in it. The best previous treatment of the subject
is of course in the Principles of Mathematics. (Mr. Johnson does
not seem to be acquainted with the very difficult later theory of the
Principia, which, so far as I know, no philosopher has yet dared
to criticise or even mention.) Mr. Johnson differs a good deal from
Mr. Eussell. (1) He counts numbers as magnitudes. (2) He dis-
tinguishes them as abstract from Concrete Magnitudes, like lengths
and temperatures. (3) He calls the latter quantities, whereas
Eussell confines this name to substances having magnitude, such
as foot-rules. (4) He distinguishes between extensional wholes
(classes), whose magnitudes are numbers, and extensive wholes, like
areas and stretches of time. He brings out in a most admirable
way the points of analogy and difference between the two. (5) He
distinguishes between distensive and intensive magnitudes. The
former seem to be degrees of difference, and their zero is identity.
The zero of intensive magnitude is non-existence. (6) He holds a
characteristic, and to my mind very doubtful, view that magnitudes
of different kinds can be multiplied and divided by each other to
give new kinds of magnitude, such as area and velocity. The more
usual view of course is that it is only the numerical measures of the
magnitudes that can be multiplied and divided. It seems to me
that the following is an objection to Mr. Johnson's view. He

506 CRITICAL NOTICES:

admits that only homogeneous magnitudes can be added. But multi-
plication is primarily repeated addition. It is therefore difficult to
see that he can consistently hold that non-homogeneous magni-
tudes can literally be multiplied when they cannot literally be added.

The chapter contains a short, but most illuminating, discussion
on the absolute and relative views of Space and Time. Mr. John-
son holds that two different controversies have been confused under
this head. One is the question whether there are substantival
entities of a peculiar kind (points and instants) between which
spatial and temporal relations ultimately hold, or whether such re-
lations hold directly between what would commonly be said to
"occupy " points and instants. This might be called the Substantival
v. the Adjectival Theory of Space and Time. Mr. Johnson inclines
to the adjectival view, and dismisses points and instants as " sub-
stantival myths ". The other question is whether position in space
or time can only be denned in terms of relations. This is a question
that could arise just as much on the substantival as on the ad-
jectival view. I gather that Mr. Johnson inclines to the non-
relational form of the adjectival theory. There is a third view,
viz., that points and instants are certain classes of events or
objects. This has of course been greatly developed in recent times
by Whitehead. I suppose we might say that this makes points and
instants " adjectival " as well as " substantival myths ". This view
Mr. Johnson rejects with scorn, but I am not altogether persuaded
by his arguments against it.

The rest of the book deals with all forms of Induction except the
problematic kind. We have already seen the wide sense in which
Mr. Johnson uses the term Induction, and have described Intuitive
Induction. Chapter ix. treats of what he calls Summary Induc-
tion. This starts with the familiar " Perfect Induction," which,
Mr. Johnson points out, can be reduced to syllogism. The re-
mainder of the chapter deals with the establishment of Euclidean
propositions by the use of figures. Purely analytical geometry
proceeds wholly by functional deduction, but its axioms and there-
fore its conclusions are wholly hypothetical. In Euclidean
geometry, according to Mr. Johnson, the axioms and propositions
are asserted to be true of things in nature. We might have
established enough axioms by summary induction from figures, and
then have used nothing but functional deduction in our proofs.
But this has not in fact been done ; the explicit axioms of Euclid
are not adequate to guarantee deductively all his conclusions, and
that is why figures have to be used in geometrical proofs. At
certain stages in the proofs summary inductions have to be made,
and so a bad figure may lead to false conclusions. Mr. Johnson
illustrates this last point very happily by a pleasing fallacious
proof that all triangles are isosceles.

It remains to explain how Mr. Johnson supposes that summary
induction establishes geometrical propositions from figures. The
example that he gives is the establishment of the axiom that two

w. E. JOHNSON, Logic. 507

Euclidean straight lines cannot cut in more than one point. So far
as I can understand, the process is supposed to be as follows : We
image one fixed line AB and another cutting it at A. We then image
this other line AX as continuously rotating about A. We see that
in each of its positions it does not cut AB again, and we sum this
up in the perfect induction that it never cuts it again. There are
three points to notice : (a) Mr. Johnson holds that we succeed in
imaging an actual infinity of positions. I should have thought it
was just as impossible to image this as to sense it. (b) He insists
that the process must be done by imaging, and not by perception,
because " It is only through imagery that we can represent a line
starting from a certain point and extending indefinitely in a certain
direction " (p. 202). If Mr. Johnson can have indefinitely extended
images he is more fortunate than I. (c) I understand Mr. Johnson
to hold that the axioms of Euclidean geometry are supposed to be
true of the physical objects in the external world. I should have
thought it was extremely rash to extend the geometrical properties
of our images to physical objects.

The last tvvo chapters are devoted to what Mr. Johnson calls
Demonstrative Induction. His treatment falls into two parts ; (1)
certain types of hypothetical syllogism in which an instantial
premise leads to an universal conclusion, and (2) his substitute for
Mill's Methods. The typical example of hypothetical argument
which Mr. Johnson gives is of the form : "If some S is P then all
T is U; but this S is P ; therefore all T is U ". It is thus an
argument whose major is a hypothetical proposition with a par-
ticular antecedent and an universal consequent. The other premise
is the assertion of a certain instance in accordance with the ante-
cedent. The conclusion is of course the assertion of the universal
consequent. Now no one would deny the validity of such argu-
ments ; the only question is whether they can be called inductive,
even in the wide sense in which induction is defined by Mr. Johnson.
In their most general form they hardly can be called inductive, for
the conclusion is not a generalisation of the instantial minor. Mr.
Johnson next quotes examples in which he alleges that the con-
clusion really is a generalisation of the instantial minor. One
example is : "If some boy in the school sends up a good answer,
then all the boys will have been well taught ; the boy Smith has
sent up a good answer; therefore all the boys have been well
taught ". I cannot myself see that the conclusion of this is a
generalisation of the instantial minor. I should have thought that
it was obvious that " All the boys have been well taught " could only
be a generalisation of such an instantial proposition as " The boy
Smith has been well taught" whereas the actual minor is " The
boy Smith has sent up a good answer". I therefore see no ground
for counting even this argument as inductive. In fact the only
argument of this type which would be genuinely inductive, in Mr.
Johnson's sense, would be of the form : " If some boys in the house
have measles, all will have measles ; the boy Smith has measles ;

508 CEITICAL NOTICES:

therefore all the boys in the house will have measles ". This is
demonstrative and inductive, and not altogether remote from the
real facts of life, as housemasters know to their cost.

Mr. Johnson points out that arguments of this kind really are
common in science. From what we know of the atomic theory we
can say with great probability that " If one sample of Argon has a
certain atomic weight, then all samples of Argon will have the
same atomic weight". We then find that the atomic weight of a
certain particular specimen is 40. And we are justified in con-
cluding that all specimens of Argon will have atomic weight 40,
provided our major is correct.

I will end with an account of Mr. Johnson's substitute for Mill's
Methods. He sees clearly that Mill was confused as to the nature
of the methods. Really they should be purely demonstrative,
leading to conclusions which are as certain as their premises.
•And their premises have to be borrowed from the results of pro-
blematic induction. Now Mill hardly distinguished the Method of
Agreement from Induction by Simple Enumeration, which is a
form of problematic induction. Again, he thought that the ultimate
majors of these arguments were very wide general principles, like
the Law of Causation. Mr. Johnson points out that they need
much more definite and concrete majors before they can be rendered
genuinely demonstrative. These majors have to be established by
problematic induction, and they take the following form in the
simplest case. Certain sets of generic characteristics (" determin-
ables," as Mr. Johnson calls them) determine a certain other
generic characteristic. Bach determinable is susceptible of a
number (finite or transfinite) of specific modifications. E.g.,
"colour" is a determinable, and a certain definite shade of red is
a determinate under it. And of course each determinate is capable
of being exhibited in an infinite number of particular instances.
With these preliminaries we can state the kind of major premise
which will serve for a demonstrative induction. We need — if I
understand Mr. Johnson rightly — in the simplest case, to establish
a proposition of the following kind as a premise. (1) In all cases
where all the determinables ABCD are present the determinable P
is present ; and no other determinable (say Q) is present in all
these cases. (2) In all cases where the determinable P is present
all the determinables ABCD will be found ; and there will be no
other determinable (say E) common to all these cases. When
such a premise has been established the demonstrative induction
rests on certain axioms about adjectival determination. Let us
see how much freedom this premise allows us. If I interpret Mr.
Johnson rightly it is quite possible (1) that we should have abcdp
and a'b'cdp, for instance. (2) It is even possible that we should
have abcdp and a'bcdp. But (3), if this be so, we cannot have
a'bcdp" ' . In fact we may here conclude A.bcdp, i.e., that, although the
presence of A in some form is necessary to the production of p yet
its variations are irrelevant to the variations of p, so long as BCD

w. E. JOHNSON, Logic. 509

have the specific values bed. (4) Even if we have Abcdp, we must
not conclude that variations of A will be irrelevant to variations-
of p when BCD are not confined to the specific values bed. We
may perfectly well have ab'cdp' in spite of Abcdp. (5) Lastly, if
we find that abcdp and a'bcdp', then we cannot have a'bcdp or
d'bcdp' ; we must have abcdp". I.e., if any variation of A is
relevant to variations of P, while BCD have the specific values bed,
all variations of A will entail variations of P under the same con-
ditions. But (6), even if this be so, we must not conclude that,
when the specific values of BCD are no longer confined to bed, we
cannot have such a case as a"b'cdp.

In all these arguments it is assumed that the determinables
under discussion are "simplex," i.e., that A, for example, is not
really a complex of two or more determinables, say AjA^ It is
also assumed that ABCD are all independently variable. Taking,
such a major as this, and supplying it with different sorts of minor
from our observations, it is clear that we can arrive at four different
types of conclusion, according to the nature of the factual minor
supplied. (1) If all are simplex, and abcdp and a'bcdp then Abcdp.
(2) If all are simplex, and abcdp and a'bcdp', then a'bcdp", where
p" differs from both p and from p'. (3) If all be simplex, and
abcdp and a'bcdp' then a"cdp must be b" ', where V differs from b.
(4) If abcdp and a'bcdp' and a'bcdp then A cannot be simplex but
must be of the form A1A2.

These four types of argument Mr. Johnson calls respectively
the figures of Agreement, Difference, Composition, and Resolution.
The reasons for the first two names are obvious. In the third,,
after a variation in A has produced a variation in P we find that
a further variation in A does not produce the expected further
variation in P. We therefore conclude that this variation in A
has been compounded with and neutralised by a variation in some
other factor such as B. In the fourth we have the same sort of
facts to explain ; but we know that there has been no variation in
the other factors, whilst we are not sure that all the factors are
simplex. We are therefore forced to resolve the factor about whose
simplicity we were doubtful into two or more factors.

Mr. Johnson illustrates his Figures and then deals with the more
complex and actual case of a determined result involving several
determinables PQRS, say. The general principles involved are
the same, and will be clear to anyone who has understood the
argument in the simpler cases.

I think there can be no doubt whatever that Mr. Johnson's
Figures are a great improvement on Mill's Methods, both in logical
rigour and in approximation to the actual procedure of scientists.
There is, however, one criticism which strikes me. Surely the
axioms on which Mr. Johnson bases his Figures wholly ignore the
possibility of the laws of adjectival determination sometimes taking
a periodic form. Suppose it happened that P was so connected
with ABCD that—

P = A sin (BC + D).

510 CEITICAL NOTICES:

Then we should have p = a sin (be + d) and p' = a sin (b'c + d)
and yet p = a sin (b"c + d), provided that b" is and b' is not equal
to b + 2?rn/c. Nor is this an outrageous supposition, since electro-
magnetism mainly rests on laws of this kind.

I have perhaps said enough to show that Mr. Johnson's book is
one which no one interested in Logic and Scientific Method can
afford to neglect. It contains many controversial points, as any
thorough treatment of such difficult subjects must do ; but I have
no hesitation in saying that it is the best book that has appeared,
or is likely to appear for a long time, on the absolutely fundamental
questions with which it deals.

C. D. BROAD.

De ^Explication dans les Sciences. Par EMILE MEYEESON. Paris :
Payot & Cie, 1921. 2 vols. Pp. xiv, 338 and 469.
Price 40 fr.

I.

M. MEYEESON here deals from a different point of view with the
problem which he handled with so much distinction in Identite
et Eealite (1st ed., 1908, 2nd ed., much enlarged, 1912 : Paris,
Felix Alcan). These two books deserve to be widely known in this
country, both to philosophers and to scientists. M. Meyerson's
style is a model of concreteness and lucidity ; his argument is
wonderfully continuous, in spite of the wealth of illustration drawn
from the history of science with which he enforces it.

The problem is one of theory of knowledge : to discover " the
essential principles of thought." The method is to examine the
processes of scientific reasoning as actually exhibited in the history
of science (ix.). His work is not metaphysics, but, he hopes,
" prolegomena to any future metaphysics" (xii.).

In this examination he does not trust the scientist's own accounts
of his processes, but studies the scientist at work, so as to see how
he acts. M. Meyerson's study then can be described as a study of
scientific reasoning from a behaviourist standpoint (e.g., Identite
et Eealite, 432-433).

In Identite et Eealite this investigation was pursued empiri-
cally. In the present book an attempt is made to justify the same
results by a more deductive consideration of the conditions of
scientific explanation as such.

II.

It is assumed throughout that man's reason is an instrument
which has to be applied to the original data of experience (sensa-
tions) in order that a world may be experienced at all. This
instrument, reason, has a structure, a form, which has remained
without evolution at least during historic times, although there has
been a steady evolution in the products of reasoning as applied to

EMILE MEYERSON, De I' Explication dans les Sciences. 511

the systematisation of experience. It is this constant form of
human reason that M. Meyerson has endeavoured to bring to
light (ii., 369 ff.).

One result follows at once, which helps to make the author's
historical studies so valuable. If human reason in its essential
form does not change, then all the scientific theories of the past are
as reasonable as those of the present ; and if we can think away
later discoveries and new points of view and put ourselves at the
old point of view, we shall see how reasonable that point of view
was ; and this is a duty enjoined on the historian. The importance
of this cannot be too much stressed. M. Meyerson 's favourite
example is the history of the phlogiston theory ; but the whole of
his work bears the impress of it on every page.

III.

We can best bring out the author's attitude to his problem by
noting his account of (a) atomism, and (b) theories of conservation
(ii., 319 ff.).

(a) Atomism was the first scientific fruit of the sphere of
Parmemdes. It was fully matured, so far as its form is concerned,
at its birth ; and subsequent development has not altered its main
lines. It has been throughout the ages, and continues to be to-day,
the most powerful of all instruments in scientific discovery. It is
peculiarly fitted to bring home to us the nature of human reason.
While the one unchanging of Parmemdes represents human reason
taking possession of itself in its purity once for all (with absolute
finality), atomism represents human reason straight away adopting
its characteristic attitude to the world of existence. Atomism
asserts persistence and admits change. It makes change quasi-
rational by reducing it to variation of one type, and that the most
akin to reason, viz., change of position, or grouping, in space.
" II faut," says Cournot in a passage which M. Meyerson took as
one of the mottoes of Identite et Bealite, " que les inventeurs de la
doctrine atomistique soient tombes de prime abord, ou sur la clef
meme des phenomenes naturels, ou sur une conception qui la con-
stitution de 1'esprit humain lui suggere inevitablement." In a way
they did both ; but fundamentally — and it is on this that we wish to
concentrate at the moment — the latter.

How far, then, it may be asked, does Atomism, which is a priori
in that it received its complete outline at a time when experimental
evidence for it was impossible, represent " une conception qui la
constitution de 1'esprit humain lui suggere in6vitablement ? "

Atomism contains aspects which do not satisfy reason, and which
must therefore be regarded as foreign to the nature of reason.
Atoms have definite shapes and sizes and positions in space. Why
just these ? reason must ask, but cannot answer. Atoms act on
one another ; and reason has never been able to comprehend tran-
sitive action. Atomism is rational, we see, only to the extent to

512 CRITICAL NOTICES:

which it satisfies the demand of the mind for that which remains
identical without changing ; its irrationality is due to the fact that
it involves a diversity which cannot be rationalised.

Here is one of M. Meyerson's essential points. The only genu-
inely rational would be the purely identical which contained no di-
versity. But such a pure identity could not exist ; it would be a
strict non-entity (see ii., 335, n. 5, for a note on identity). Thus
reason as applied to existence is self-contradictory, since it postu-
lates a diver&ity which it cannot fully assimilate. Hence in seek-
ing to render existence completely rational, we are started on a.
path which would end in the complete destruction of existence — in
acosmisrn. Yet, and this is the paradox of the situation, it is just
the strenuous endeavour to accomplish this task which has pro-
vided the most fruitful results in the discovery of the laws of
nature.

Atomism, as we see, shows reason coming to terms with that
which is apparently only partially rational. It takes various shapes
at various epochs, but the same general character underlies it
always. It leaves sensation aside as an irrational which it make&
no attempt to subdue. The history of the evolution of atomism is
a history of attempts to bring more and more of the diversity of
nature inside the atomic frame, of partial success beyond all hopes,
and of a sudden emergence, from time to time, in an unexpected
place, of a new brute diversity which resists reduction. The
Brussels conference of physicists of 1911 furnishes M. Meyerson
with many reflections on this matter (i., 39 ff., and passim)..
Viewed from another side, the history of atomism shows a series
of attempts to reduce the multiplicity demanded by the form of
atomism itself, to determinations of pure space : always with the
same partial success and lack of success.

(b) Theories of conservation. At various times various principles-
of conservation have been held in science : some have proved er-
roneous, and some have up to the present been confirmed. All have
the same character. They are partly a priori, partly a posteriori*
From reason comes the demand for something which persists ;
from experience comes the suggestion for what it is that persists.
M. Meyerson is extremely happy in his treatment of these prin-
ciples ; particularly in showing the rationality of the qualitative
conceptions of the middle ages, of the theory of phlogiston, of
caloric. Principles of conservation, he shows, are plausible, i.e.
we are disposed to accept them on insufficient evidence because of
their promise to satisfy reason. Eeason wants something to per-
sist, and every principle of conservation has been accepted because
it both satisfied reason in this respect and showed itself capable of
practical application. He is extremely happy in the way in which
he shows how, once such a principle has won acceptance, it leads
scientists to see as a fact the entity which persists, and thus a bar-
rier of fact is erected against a new principle of conservation.
Each new principle thus has to fight strenuously before it slays

E'MILE MEYEESON, De ^Explication dans Us Sciences. 513

its rival, but, once its rival is slain, it alters all the empirical facts
in its own favour. M. Meyerson's account, again, of the way in
which this principle is used implicitly in the building up, on the
level of common sense, of a world of independent objects, enables
him to reach one of his central theses, viz., that the world of
common sense is a half-way house on the same road to acosmism
as that on which science is travelling.

/ IV.

The history of science, then, reveals a progressive attempt on the
part of the scientist to show nature rational, and an ever renewed
failure to do so. The existence of science proves that nature is
partly in accord with reason ; the existence of the irrationals (the
irreducible characteristics which have either to be accepted as brute
facts in the science or set aside as falling beyond the power of the
science to include even as brute facts) which arise in every science
indicates that this accord is only partial ; the unexpectedness of the
irrationals is a warning that we cannot map out beforehand the
extent to which nature is rational.

The whole history of science for M. Meyerson is summed up at
the beginning of its course in Plato's words (which he takes as the
motto of De V Explication) : " accommodating by violence the nature
of the other to that of the same " (ii., 315 n.). The scientist refuses
what nature offers, and lays violent hands on her, forcing her di-
versity into identities ; and nature shows herself pliable — but you
never know when she will resist.

A very important example of this is to be seen in the concepts
the scientist uses such as pure silver, a perfect gas, a weightless
lever, a body moving under no external forces, etc. These things
none of them exist ; nor does nature suggest them of herself ; but
they are the basis of our whole treatment of nature.

" Mais alors n'est-ce pas la, de la part de la science," he asks,
" une attitude contradictoire, n'est-il pas etrange qu'elle etudie le
phenomene, qui n'est que changement, a 1'aide d'un principe qui
tend a affirmer 1'identite de I'antec6dent et du consequent, c'est-
a-dire a nier tout changement, et qu'elle se serve, en general, afin
de penetrer 1'essence des choses, dont elle maintient la realite,
d'une conception qui aboutit a la negation de toute diversite?
N'est il pas paradoxal au plus haut point qu'elle reussisse dans
cette entreprise, que la nature, dans une certaine mesure, semble
se montrer p6netrable, plastique, a 1'egard d'une th6orie qui vise a
la demontrer non-existante ? " (ii. 349).

Nevertheless, it is so.

V.

Two concepts are needed to express the full complex task of
science ; M. Meyerson calls them respectively the concept of law,
and the concept of cause. He uses the word cause in the sense

33

514 CEITICAL NOTICES:

in which it was used before Hume identified it with invariable,
sequence ; and he keeps the word law for the notion of invariable
sequence, or orderliness. Cause, then, for him, emphasises the
element of identity (" causa aequat effectum : ex nihilo nihil fit ") ;
while law emphasises the element of diversity, an emphasis which
reaches its height in the principle of Carnot. Each principle
is unworkable if separated from the other ; this M. Meyerson brings
out both by the whole argument of Identite et Eealite. and by his
trenchant criticism of positivism in De I' Explication. Yet he is not
satisfied that it is possible to reduce either principle to the other.
However intimately bound up together, the two principles, he
insists, are really antagonistic. Causality in its ideal form (of
absolute identity) is an ideal infinitely remote, and suicidal ; while
we hopefully assert the complete orderliness of nature here and
now (with the exception of a large field which he leaves open for
volition) (ii., 336-337 : cf. Identite et Eealite, 428).

VI.

The direct logical approach to this position is made in the
chapters of Book II., notably in chapters iii. and v., which deal
with deduction. Book III., which discusses the nature philosophies
of Schelling and Hegel (L' Explication Globale), forms an important
indirect logical approach.

The nature philosophies of Schelling and Hegel, M. Meyerson
thinks, are capable, in their contrast, of throwing clear light on
the genuine nature of scientific explanation ; and he endeavours to
put them to this useful purpose. Hegel's description of the method
of abstract science, he considers, is " just and profound " ; it has
been neglected by scientists because Hegel's object in describing
science was to show how defective science is. Hegel, and M.
Meyerson agrees, insists that explanation in the physical sciences
rests on the concept of persistence, or the identical. The whole
work of science appeared to him to reduce to an immense tautology,
for he did not see the extent to which the concept of spatial ar-
rangement of identical elements could be used in scientific explana-
tion. In pure mathematics, M. Meyerson thinks, Hegel was
willing to admit the value of the tautology; but just because
mathematics proceeds by a setting aside of diversity, Hegel regarded
it as incapable of serving as a type of genuine knowledge.

The precise sense in which mathematics treats entities as
identical which it knows not to be so, setting aside temporarily all
diversity which stands in the way of their complete identification,
M. Meyerson treats in chapter v. His account is based on the fact
that what exists shows itself individual and in every detail singular.
Two things can be similar in a certain respect but not identical ;
if the universals which form the staple of reasoning are to arise,
reason must force similars into an identity which they really do
not show. It is clear that M. Meyerson is concerned only to pre-

EMILE MEYEESON, De I' Explication dans les Sciences. 515

else a situation and not to propound a final theory of the relation
of universal to particular ; but at the same time he does definitely
speak as if there could be, in his opinion, no ultimate way of
harmonising similars and identities. Yet (as we have seen) it is
one of his final conclusions that nature is partly rational, and by
this he certainly does not mean that some parts of nature are
wholly rational. What ultimate meaning, then, can be given to
the phrase " partly rational," if the rational is the pure identical
and all diversity is irrational ?

We can say, I think, that M. Meyerson's account of reason in-
volves that in principle, nature is in every part completely irrational.
For the only truly rational would be a pure identity which was
not given to reason, but was provided by reason out of itself. The
first approximation to the truly rational is a number of entities,
such as the Ax and A2 which form the real basis of the principle of
identity " A is A " : where what we do is to affirm that " Ax is A2,"
neglecting as irrelevant the difference indicated by the suffixes.
We have here an instance of what M. Meyerson would call
"partial" rationality; but it is clear that on his view of identity
such partial rationality is, strictly speaking, completely irrational.
We have identification but not identity in the proposition Ax is A2.

The identification may rest, in this case, on the basis of an ob-
vious similarity (or an inability on our part to distinguish precise
differences), as when we identify two animals as sheep : it is then
spontaneous. It may however involve force, and have to be sought
for : as where steam and ice are declared to be identical in sub-
stance. What we see presents difference and not sameness : what
we require if we are to comprehend is identity : we compromise
with " identification ". But in principle, as I have said, this iden-
tification is absolutely irrational. Nature can however be described
as " partly rational " in the sense that it is amenable, within limits,
to treatment by this process of identification (see ii., 139 ff.)

VII.

I think M. Meyerson has fully made out his case that the suc-
cesses of science have been won by a constant endeavour to force
nature into certain moulds. I think he has shown that reason
must play an active forceful role, making demands which continu-
ally go beyond anything nature suggests and beyond anything
which nature ever fully satisfies. But I think his identification of
the purely rational with the purely identical is too forceful. To
take one instance. The two sides of the formula " existentia est
singularium ; scientia est de universalibus " (i., 14-15), do not come,
one from sense, the other from reason. It is not enough to say (as
he does, quoting from M. Eoustan's excellent Psychologie) that
" tout ce qui est pergu par nos sens se morcelle en sensations par-
ticulieres," while " tout ce qui est congu par notre entendement
prend la forme d'id^e generale" (i., 15). The conflict between

516 CBITICAL NOTICES:

" singularia " and " universalia " is not one between reality and
science, sensation and understanding. It is one within reason it-
self. Both sides of the formula come equally from reason : and
both sides come only from reason in contact with the material of
perception. To describe science as pursuing identity in what is
merely presented as diverse is to describe it only from one side :
science equally pursues the completely definite, the singular, in what
is merely presented as diverse. It is reason that insists that atoms,
if they exist, must have a definite shape ; just as much as it is
reason that insists that there must be a reason why they should
have this rather than that shape. Indeed, if you are to describe as
rational all the ideals which science pursues, all the demands-
which reason makes of what is presented to it, you must take the
rational as, in toto, a heap of contradictions. Reason demands,
equally the identical, the singular, the continuous, the discrete, the
independent, the interrelated, etc. (see ii., 373, for M. Meyerson's
point). My own view is that the explicit formulation of each of
these demands, and the separate following of it to its end with the
rigour of " a relentless logic," endeavouring to use it as the guiding
thread through the labyrinth of reality, is an essential step in the
process of refining the instruments which reason uses in its attempt
to discover truth, but not a final step in the account of the nature of
reason itself. What exists (nature) is presented as a tangle where-
in reason demands " fibres " (i., 101 ; ii., 276, 285), because it is the
nature of reason to demand fibres. But reason's own " fibres " are
tangled and are disentangled by itself only one by one ; and the
process of disentangling them is a process of dissection performed
by first dimly discerning a fibre in reason itself, and then endeavour-
ing to see the whole of nature as built up entirely on the basis of
this fibre. All this however is only dissection : reason is not a*
mere sum of fibres but a whole in which the fibres are inter-related
and in which they modify one another.

Again, while I should say that the explicit account of the nature
of reason as disentangled at any date is to be found in the Logic of
that date, I should not agree that any logic could be final until
complete knowledge of the Universe was reached. Man's reason,
M. Meyerson says, is completely rational (ii., 307) ; but if that were
true, there ought to be something, at least in the realm of concepts,,
which actually did, here and now, completely satisfy that part of
man's nature which M. Meyerson calls his reason. But in fact
there is nothing of this kind. What there is, is something which
it is felt would satisfy a part of man's nature if man could com-
pletely comprehend existence by its help. The contemplation of
pure identity does not bring satisfaction ; pure identity is rather a
demand which brings dissatisfaction with what existence presents,
an ideal which would satisfy if it could be realised in existence.
Complete rationality, I feel, is rather an ideal to be attained in the
far away future ; and an ideal which describes what not a part, but
the whole of man's nature, is striving towards. The process of

EMILE MEYEESON, De I' Explication dans les Sciences. 517

attaining it demands that man should formulate with all rigour
what he has so far attained of it, and endeavour to follow out its
consequences relentlessly in thought and cautiously in action.
For life demands to be allowed more freedom ; and the conflict
resulting is equally a part of the process.

To M. Meyerson's argument that reason has not changed we can
apply his own method. His own investigation into the rational
processes followed by science was compelled to postulate that those
processes be regarded as identical with those of the present day,
because otherwise he would have no key to the understanding of
them ; but he was equally compelled, in his investigation, to have
recourse to the notion that much was only implicit in the processes
as manifested in the infancy of science, which became explicit
later on. Following his own method, we shall see there a confession
of the partial insuccess of the postulate on the basis of which the
whole investigation proceeded ; but we shall recognise that this
was inevitable, and that the investigation could take no other
course, in its initial stage. But M. Meyerson has done his work
so well that even those who differ from him in his view of what is
completely rational will have little to change in his description of
scientific processes.

We have left no space to deal with the profound discussion of
the relation between science and philosophy in Book IV., and our
mention of Book III. has been all too scant ; but there is so much
in M. Meyerson's volumes that we cannot hope to do justice in a
few pages even to his main topics. As before in Identify et Realite,
there is a rich gleaning in the Appendices.

LEONAKD KUSSELL.

VII.— NEW BOOKS.

The Greek Tradition from the Death of Socrates to the Council of Chal-
cedon, Vol. i. The Religion of Plato. By PAUL ELMER MORE.
Princeton University Press ; London, Humphrey Milford, 1921. Pp.
xii, 352.

THE first duty of a reviewer must be to thank Mr. More for having given
us so fascinating a first volume, and to express the hope that he may be
able to complete the task he has set before him in a reasonable time. For
the present reviewer, the second duty must be to express his hearty
sympathy with Mr. More's general purpose as laid down in his Preface.
The points on which the Preface lays stress are these : There is a continuous
tradition of the spiritual life, presumably derived from Socrates, of which
Plato's writings are the truest expression ; this tradition dominates Greek
thought, though, as Mr. More holds, it has been dangerously perverted in
its later forms ; from Greek philosophy it passes into the Greek fathers.
In fact, the Christian Church, rather than the Neo-Platonists, is the
legitimate heir of Plato, and there is thus a single uniform development
from Socrates, or at any rate from the earliest work of Plato, to the com-
pletion of the formulation of the Christian faith at Chalcedon. The great
truth which finds its expression in this development is that the human
spirit itself is " dual," an inhabitant of the eternal and the temporal realms
at once, and that all worthy living is based on the principle of subordinating
the merely temporal in a man's self (the "flesh," as St. Paul calls it), to
the eternal (the " spirit "). It is just this great conviction which our world
to-day seems in danger of losing, and therefore, for the sake of the world's
salvation, it is imperative to bid thoughtful men return to the literature
in which the Greek and Christian truth is most plainly and emphatically
preached, from the Phaedo down to Gregory of Nyssa and Chrysostom.

In all these fundamental points the writer of the present notes feels
himself wholly at one with Mr. More. There are matters in which he
cannot see altogether eye to eye with his author, but in his own opinion
these, important as some of them are to a complete estimate of Plato's
philosophy, are secondary in a study of Plato's religion and rule of life,
and, in some cases, may be reduced after all to mere questions of the
emphasis to be laid on a particular strain in the Platonic dialogues. The
rest of this notice will necessarily be largely taken up with the raising of
doubts about these points of difference, but I should like to make it clear
beyond all question that I fully sympathise with Mr. More's central
position and that I am keenly alive to the real beauty and literary charm
of the style in which he presents it. I am the more anxious to do this
that, rightly or wrongly, I found much to disagree with in Mr. More's
preliminary work Platonism and its presentment of Socrates.

Now to say something on the matters where, rightly or wrongly, I find
it difficult to agree with Mr. More, and would respectfully suggest to him
that he might perhaps reconsider his utterances. The most important of
these is his insistence upon regarding the Platonic philosophy, as well as

NEW BOOKS. 519

the Platonic religion, as "dualistic". As to the point from which Mr.
More takes his departure, he is, indeed, clearly in the right. If Plato and
Christianity are to be believed, there is a fundamental duality in the
human soul ; every soul of man is a denizen of two worlds at once, and
" salvation" means definitely rising from the pursuit of the ephemeral to
the pursuit of the eternal. And I further agree that most contemporary
ethics and a great deal of contemporary speculative philosophy are vapid
and mischievous precisely because they will not recognise this division of
the soul against itself. But it is another question whether this duality
in unity which we find in ourselves justifies an ultimate " dualism " in
philosophy. For the unity of the person in whom the duality is found
is precisely what makes the tragic element in the soul's life. I think Mr.
More has been led into exaggeration on the point by a bias against the cheap
" monisms " of the Spinozistic type or the type of an Hegelianism inter-
preted in a Spinozistic sense. For my own part, I fully agree with him
that this sort of monism is the worst and most superficial of philosophies,
and am wholly on his side in his vigorous protests against the interpreta-
tions which read " immanenfcisrn " and "pantheism " into Plato. But I
do not see that there is warrant for ascribing to Plato a dualism which
seriously sets up two cosmic principles. Still less do I think Plato would
have agreed with Mr. More's " irrationalism " and distrust of logic. I
venture to believe that Plato would have said that the cure for the kind of
rationalism which shuts its eyes to all the facts that will not fit into its
preconceived schemes is not less of hard logical thinking, but more of it.
Indeed, this seems to be the real point of the Parmenides, where the
youthful Socrates is warned that his helplessness in the face of criticism
is due to lack of the indispensable yvp.vaoria in just this so-called " useless "
dialectic. I do not think Plato shows any signs of the impatience Mr.
More feels with what he himself calls * ' metaphysic " and describes as the
attempt to rationalise the ultimate how and why of things. Plato is, to
be sure, quite alive to the impossibility of achieving finality in such an
attempt, but I am sure that he holds that we ought to do the best we can,
because there really is an intelligible "ultimate how and why," even
if our mortal eyes are holden so that we cannot see it.

I should like to suggest that this bias against " metaphysic" makes Mr.
More unconsciously unfair to Neo-Platonism. When he complains of the
mischief done by Aristotle (the least religious of great Greek philosophers),
in narrowing down "imitation of God" to the "speculative life," I
wholly sympathise, and I am moved to admiration by his fine pages at the
end of the book on Plato's insistence on " service," where he says much
which I have always tried to urge upon pupils in the course of many
years' teaching. But the hard verdicts passed, for example, on Plotinus
seem to me to indicate insufficient, or at least insufficiently sympathetic,
study. Two passages are particularly singled out for reprobation, the
famous words at the end of Ennead VI. about the flight of the " alone to
the Alone," and the other about the shedding of memories of earth by
the "risen " soul. I doubt if they will bear all the meaning which is put
upon them. As for the " flight," there does not seem to me any evidence
that Plotinus is preaching the shallow doctrine of the "absorption " of
our personality into an impersonal absolute, which I should repudiate as
vehemently as Mr. More does. I take him to be actually describing a
fact of experience of which most of us have some knowledge, and I do not
really believe that he goes beyond what Mr. More has said quite beauti-
fully himself about the combination of detachment and attachment. And
it S3ems clear to me, after an attentive and prolonged study of the leading
Neo-Platonists, that their actual belief was quite definitely opposed to
anything like " absorption ". Union with the " One " is not "absorption "

520 NEW BOOKS.

into it ; the plurality of individual immortal souls seems to me just as
indispensable to the Neo-Platonist scheme as the dependence of all things
on the " One ". And as to the other passage, if it is read sympathetically,
does it not appear as a justified protest against the triviality of spiritual-
istic "messages from the other world," a triviality equally obnoxious
to Mr. More himself ? I suggest that Mr. More exaggerates the differ-
ences between Plotinus and Plato by not allowing enough for the differences
in their times. After all Plotinus led the life not of a cloistered quietist
but of a man pretty fully occupied in the only business open to him, and
he seems to have been fairly shrewd and successful even in the matter of
looking after the investments of hia friends. When the so-called "in-
activity " of philosophers in the third century is censured, it is usually
forgotten that their activity, when they got their chance, a century later,
under Julian, is commonly equally censured by the very same critics.

I dwell on the point partly because I should like to suggest that Mr.
More should modify his admiration for Plutarch as a guide to Plato's
meaning. I think, if this were the proper place, I could show that
Plutarch has definitely led him astray about the meaning of the Timaeus,
but I do not dwell on the matter, as it, after all, concerns Plato's science
and not his religion. From Plutarch himself we learn a good deal about
the way in which the Timaeus was understood by Plato's own immediate
pupil Xenocrates, and by Grantor in the next generation, and Plotinus, I
should say, stands much more in the line of direct development from
these first Platonists than Plutarch does.

I may mention, as a set-off to these doubts, a number of secondary
points where I am delighted to find Mr. More vigorously championing
what seems to myself the only true interpretation. I am glad that he
will have no truck with the attempts to whittle down Plato's express
ascription of personality to God and of immortality to the individual
human soul. I am sure he is right again in refusing to confound Plato's
God, who is a perfectly good soul, with the system of el'S??, and I quite
agree with him that in Plato's treatment the eiSrj are, in a sense, "above "
God. (I am not equally satisfied that this doctrine is one in which we can
finally acquiesce. Orthodox Christianity takes a different view and one
which seems to me truer. At any rate, I am sure Mr. More is not right
when he argues that, as a consequence of not putting the ei&j above God,
orthodoxy has come to regard moral distinctions as arbitrarily established
by God, things of "mere will," to use Cudworth's language. I am sure
that this is not and never has been the general sense of the Christian
Church ; still less is it a dogma of the Faith.) Again, I am delighted to
see that, with all his deference to Plutarch, Mr. More will have nothing to
do with an ' ' evil world-soul ". (Yet I wish he had not read astrology into
the famous passage of the Laws. A careful study shows, I think, that
when Plato insists on the existence of bad souls he is thinking simply of
the undeniable fact that there are bad men. He goes on at once to ask
whether the soul which " manages " the world is good or bad, and answers
that it is good. Hence I do not believe that he means for a moment to
entertain the notion that there is real disorder, caused by " malign "
souls anywhere in the " heavens". I think Mr. More might, at least, re-
consider his own interpretation.) On the other side, I feel sure — I am
obliged for reasons of space to put my conclusions more dogmatically than
I could wish — that it is a mistake to interpret the dvdyKrj and x<*>Pa °^ tfte
Timaeus as symbols for the " dark," " unreasonable " element in our souls.
The Timaeus is concerned with science as well as with religion, and what
is said about x^Pa an^ avdyK-q is a contribution to physics. Aristotle was
quite aware of this, and has warned us that the doctrine of x^Pa ^n ^ne
Timaeus is an analysis not fully agreeing with that given by Plato himself

NEW BOOKS. 521

in the Academy. This Platonic analysis, described by Aristotle, is on the
face of it a piece of geometrical physics, not a contribution to religion. As
for avdyKrj in the Timaeus, it demands a very careful study, and cannot
be approached better than from consideration of Proclus's discussion of
the meaning of dvdyKrj in his commentary on the Republic. I will only
remark here that the dvdyKr) of the Timaeus cannot well ba "chance,"
since its special function is to be the " under-strapper " (vTrTjperrjs) of
intelligence. But the true interpretation of the Timaeus is a topic which
could only be treated successfully in an elaborate clause-by-clause com-
mentary.

One naturally awaits Mr. More's further volumes with some impatience.
There is one dark saying which I hope they will make clear. I do not see
that the dogmatic definition of the persona Christi really has anything to
do with the " dualism " in the human soul. The problem decided at
Chalcedon did not concern the human soul of our Lord at all. It had to
do with the co-existence in one person of a complete humanity and com-
plete Deity. But, no doubt, Mr. More will make the connexion of
thought more apparent in due time, though I confess that at present 1
find it obscure.

A. E. TAYLOR.

An Introduction to Philosophy. By WILHELM WINDELBAND. Translated
by JOSEPH McCABE. London : Fisher Unwin, 1921. Pp. 365.

Speaking of previous ' Introductions ' to philosophy Windelband says
that " by far the most scientific and instructive work " is that of Kiilpe,
and it would perhaps not be unfair to describe the present work as similar
in character to Kiilpe's though written on a more ample scale and there-
fore in a fuller and less severe style. A brief outline of the scheme and
contents of the book will show how far the comparison is justified.

The task of philosophy, according to Windelband, is to subject the
working assumptions which are made in practical life and in the special
sciences to a critical examination. The aim of an 'Introduction to
Philosophy ' accordingly is to show how in the course of such an investi-
gation certain fundamental problems inevitably present themselves and
what are the main lines along which a solution of these problems has
been sought. The fundamental problems of philosophy are divided into
the two main classes of Theoretical problems, on the one hand, and Prac-
tical or rather Axiological (problems of value), on the other. But we are
warned that this division cannot be rigidly maintained, and Windelband
is inclined in fact to lay great stress on the part which ideas of value play
in philosophy. "Metaphysics is the hypos tatisation of ideals " (p. 40).

After a preliminary section on the distinction between reality and
appearance — the distinction which necessarily provokes philosophical
reflexion — the theoretical problems are divided into three groups : ontic,
genetic, and noetic. The ' Ontic ' problems are discussed under the three
heads of Substance, Quantity of Being, and Qualitative Determinations of
Reality. The section l on Substance first deals with the notion of thing
or substance generally, then contrasts the tendencies to seek true sub-
stance alternatively in the universal or in the individual, and lastly con-
siders the difficulties of conceiving the essential unity of the substance in
relation to its diverse properties or states. The section on Quantity
discusses first the opposition between systems of Monism or Singularism

1 In an English book the sections would rather be chapters. The section
on Substance, e.g., runs to 25 pp.

522 NEW BOOKS.

and systems of Pluralism, and second the problems connected with the
contrast of Finite and Infinite as regards space, time, and existence
generally. The section on Quality discusses the distinction between
primary and secondary qualities, the reference to mind involved in the
distinction, the nature of mind, and then the fundamental opposition
between mind and matter, together with the philosophical systems —
Spiritualism, Materialism and Dualism — whose character depends on
their treatment of this opposition.

The chapter on Genetic problems deals in the first section with succes-
sion in time generally, in the second with problems of causality, in the
third with the opposition between mechanism and teleology, and in the
fourth with the relation of body and mind.

The chapter on Noetic problems may be described as a short general
account of theories of knowledge in connexion with such topics as the
criterion of truth, the origin and validity of knowledge, and the types of
science. In a section on ' The Object of Knowledge ' Windelband seems
to permit himself a more direct statement of his own views than he does
as a rule elsewhere.

Part II. is devoted to the Axiological problems, and, after an intro-
ductory section on the psychological and normative aspects of valuation
in general, deals in successive chapters with Ethical, ^Esthetic, and
Religious problems. The scheme of the first chapter is indicated in the
following quotation. " The subject of moral conduct is partly the indi-
vidual, partly the social community, and partly the species in its historical
evolution. Hence we get the three sections of practical philosophy which
we may distinguish as morality, social science, and the philosophy of
history " (p. 219). The first section accordingly deals with ethical prob-
lems in the narrower sense of the term, and considers successively the
content, the knowledge or psychological source, the sanction, and the
motive, of morality. Under the first head a brief criticism of types of
ethical theory is given, and the section concludes with a few pages on the
freedom of the will. The second section deals with the relation of the
individual will to the General Will of the community, the various types
of community such as the family, the State, and the Church, the problem
of their function or value, and finally with the philosophy of law and of
the State. The third section deals with personality as the vital factor in
history — "what constitutes the power of the significant personality is
that it develops superpersonal values in itself and externalises them "
(p. 287) — with the idea of humanity, the nature of historical progress, and
the ultimate or metaphysical significance of history.

The chapter on ' ^Esthetic Problems ' has three sections entitled respec-
tively 'The Concept of the ^Esthetic,' 'The Beautiful' and 'Art,' but
the whole chapter covers only some twenty pages and may be passed over
without further remark. The concluding chapter on ' Religious Problems '
is also somewhat meagre and disappointing, especially when we consider
that it is in the sphere of religion that we meet our final question as to
the relation of the axiological to the theoretical problems. The first
section deals with the distinctive character of religion in general and
maintains that religion has no special province of values such as science,
art, and morality have. "It consists in the metaphysical tincture and
relation which all these values may assume. Religion would be deprived of
its universal significance if the sacred were marked off from the other
cultural provinces as a special section of the life of values " (p. 328). The
second section, entitled ' The Truth of Religion,' gives a brief account of
the arguments for immortality and the existence of God. The ^ final
section on ' Reality and Value ' insists on the dualism of ' ought ' and
' is,' of value and reality, as one which we cannot rise above. "The fact

NEW BOOKS. 523

of valuation necessarily implies a dualism of the valuable and valueless
in reality. This subtle truth, which is easily overlooked, may be traced
in the meaning of the two attitudes which we find opposing each other
under the names of optimism and pessimism " (p. 352). But the dualism
out of which these opposed doctrines spring is one which we cannot
resolve. " From the very nature of the case this final problem is in-
soluble. It is the sacred mystery, marking the limits of our nature and
our knowledge. We must be content to remain there and to recognise
that here, at this inmost point of life, our knowledge and understanding
can reach no further than the other side of our being, the will. For the
will the duality of value [and] reality is the indispensable condition of its
activity. If value and reality were identical, there would be no will and
no event. All would remain motionless in a state of eternal completion.
The innermost meaning of time is the inalienable difference between what
is and what ought to be ; and because this difference, which reveals
itself in our will, constitutes the fundamental condition of human life,
our knowledge can never get beyond it to a comprehension of its origin "
(pp. 358-359).

Windelband claims in the Preface that his work is not an introduction
to a particular philosophical system but ' * makes a very wide survey of
all the possibilities in the way of solutions ". While granting that
4< naturally, it is based upon the author's personal view," he tells us that
"this will not be pressed, or suffered to influence the author's judgment
in appraising other systems of thought". And on the whole his claim is
justified, for he is usually careful to state as fairly and objectively as he
can the arguments and difficulties on both sides of any controverted
question. But he seems sometimes to be unaware that he is making
large assumptions and taking propositions as self-evident that are far
from being so. One or two examples will suffice. "The more a
personality can be described or defined, the less is its individuality and
originality " (p. 64). " The successive acts of consciousness, of which
the individual experience consists, are discrete or discontinuous elements "
(p. 123). "The self-knowledge of the soul is ... the only knowledge
in which we can be convinced beyond doubt of the likeness between
knowledge and its object " (p. 193). In one set of utterances the author
displays a curiously superficial cynicism. "The morality of enlightened
interest ... is the morality of actual life : the theory that the great
majority of men have held in all ages and will continue to hold" (p. 228).
" We may be confident that what seems to be morality in the case of the
great majority of men is no more than legality based on fear and hope
with respect to various authorities" (p. 245). "Personality again has
various degrees. The great majority, who seem to be there merely for
the propagation of the race, have only a potential personality " (p. 281).

To estimate the value of the book accurately is not easy. As the work
of a prominent historian of philosophy it is of course written out of a full
knowledge and contains plenty good and interesting matter. But for
one thing it is not clear for what class of readers the book is really
designed. It is not well adapted either to the needs of the student who
is just beginning his study of philosophy or again to those of the merely
general reader, inasmuch as it tends to assume too much previous know-
ledge. What, for instance, are such readers likely to make of a passage
like the following ? " [Kant] found that theoretical reason threatened to
call into question, not only the knowableness, but even the thiukableness
— that is to say, the metaphysical- reality — of the suprasensible, or at
least to make it entirely problematical ; then his practical reason ' realises '
the suprasensible, and inspires a conviction of the higher world of ethical-
religious metaphysics lurking behind the appearances " (p. 41). To the

524 NEW BOOKS.

more advanced student the value of the book is naturally lessened by the
almost inevitable circumstances that the ground covered is often very
familiar and the treatment, in spite of the fairly large scale of the book,
summary and unsatisfying. On the other hand he will no doubt find
many interesting and suggestive surveys of the topics of philosophical
controversy. It is a drawback, however, from this point of view that no
detailed references to the literature are given which would enable the
student to follow up a subject for himself. Probably the book would be
of most use to the student or general reader who had obtained some
knowledge of the history of philosophy and wanted to take stock of the
results. But I question whether even for this purpose the plan followed
in the book is a good one.

It is no doubt a very difficult thing to write a good Introduction to
philosophy, and the difficulties are to a large extent inherent in the nature
of the case. But I do not think that Windelband's plan meets them in
the best way. In the second part of the book, where he is dealing with
the Ethical, ^Esthetic, and Religious problems, he is simply traversing
in a rapid, and necessarily partial, way the ground of certain special sub-
jects. Of the three chapters the best is that on Ethical problems, but the
student would probably always be better served by going to the special
treatises devoted to the respective subjects. In the first part of the book
the chapters on the Genetic and Noetic problems are the most interesting
and profitable to read, because the sections have some definite sequence
and deal with a connected series of problems. The chapter on * Ontic '
problems, on the other hand, with its three sections on Substance,
Quantity, and Quality, seems to me to adopt a radically bad method,
which leads to artificial separations and conjunctions, and prevents the
reader from gaining any broad view of the types of metaphysical theory
which have played a leading part in the history of philosophy. The
author splits up problems in Kiilpe's fashion and with even more un-
fortunate results. Thus under the head of Substance we have an
opposition between Universalism and Individualism, and under the head
of Quantity very much the same opposition with the new designation of
Monism or Singularism versus Pluralism. But Dualism, Spiritualism,
and IV aterialism are discussed in the section on Qualitative Determina-
tions of Reality. We have only to take a philosophy like that of Leibniz
to see how misleading all this is. To put his Spiritualism and Pluralism
and Individualism under separate heads as answers to separate problems
is simply to destroy the systematic connexion which is the essence of a
philosophy — surely a poor way of introducing the reader to " the science
of philosophising ". Whatever its merits in detail, the chapter as a whole
can hardly be otherwise than puzzling and confusing to the ordinary
student or general reader, and unfortunately it is in one way the most
important chapter in the book, dealing as it does with the fundamental
types of ontological theory.

Not having the German original for comparison, I cannot speak with
confidence as to the merits of the translation. It seems as a rule to read
well enough, at least to serve its purpose. On the other hand, not to
speak of mere slips, it makes mistakes which are obvious even' in the
English version. The following are some examples from the early
sections. The English word * antinomianism ' has no such connexion
with philosophical antinomies as the German original doubtless has. In
a passage that refers to Leibniz's monadology we are told that * ' the
universe is unity in plurality in the sense that each of its parts is equal
to the whole and therefore to all the others " (p. 85). The original must
surely speak of resemblance or correspondence here, not of equality. In
the statement that "the unity of mass is in all cases arbitrary and

NEW BOOKS. 525

conventional" (p. 88) one suspects that "unity of mass" should be
" unit of measurement".

The German original was apparently published in 1914, but owing to
the war it is probably little known here, and the English version will
therefore be specially useful.

H. BARKER.

A History of Psychology. By GEORGE SIDNEY BRETT. London : Allen
& Unwin, Ltd. New York : The Macmillan Company, 1921.
Vol. II., Mediseval and Early Modern Period. Pp. 394. Vol. III.,
Modern Period. Pp. 322.

These two volumes complete a history of which the first volume, History
of Psychology : Ancient and Patristic, was published as far back as 1912 ;
Prof. Brett is to be congratulated on the result. The history of
psychology is an exceptionally difficult theme to handle. Psychology is
not yet a branch of science, and it is no longer a branch of philosophy.
It is still engaged in working out its own salvation. In discussions, even
of the most purely " experimental " data, there are constant references
to names and theories of earlier psychologists, and there has been great
need for a handbook giving a sketch of the more important writers on
psychology, — their works, their attitude on the fundamental questions,
and their contributions to the progress of the subject. This need the
present work supplies ; but it does much more than that. With all its
scholarship and its science, there is a vein of enthusiasm and romance
running through the work, and we agree with Prof. Brett that it is
" worth while to contemplate the spectacle of a quest which has called
forth from the beginning of time the most passionate desires, the most
distorted theories, the most bitter disputes, and the most refined thought
possible to the human being ". If this were the history of a science, it
would be the chronicle of discoveries of fact, of the forming of theories
and their gradual replacement by others, as experiment or practical
application showed their errors. But there are few facts of mind
to record, and the theories are presented here as successive variations
upon a comparatively small number of themes. In other words what we
have is the history of a part of philosophy, and of the gradual, as yet
incomplete, detachment of the part from the whole, and its struggle for
independence. Questions of " presuppositions," methods of inquiry, and
methods of interpretation, bulk far more largely than those of facts, of
laws, or of practical applications.

Mr. Brett's general plan for the work is to give for each period first the
state of the sciences which influenced psychology, then the state of
psychology itself during that period, then the influence of psychology
upon other sciences, and its general applications. But it is only occasion-
ally (e.g., in Part III. of Vol. II.) that he is able to carry out this scheme ;
mostly the order of time dominates, but occasionally a separate topic is
worked out by itself, and the geographical order also intervenes. In the
second volume, the divisions are — Part I., The Background of Mediaeval
Thought (Theology, Scholarship, Tradition) ; Part II., Mediaeval Doctrines
(the Beginnings of Mediaeval Psychology in the ninth, and up to the end
of the sixteenth century) ; Part III. , From the Sixteenth to the
Eighteenth Century ; and Part IV., The Eighteenth Century.

As we approach modern times, the space given to each century increases.
The nineteenth century has the third volume to itself ; Part I. , The Age
of Transition (Scottish School, Fries, Herbart, Beneke, Schopenhauer,
etc.), Part II., Modern Psychology — "General Scientific Tendencies,"

526 NEW BOOKS.

" From Fechner to Wundt," " Representative Types of Theory," " British
Psychology in the Nineteenth Century," "The Progress of Psychology,"
and "The Scope of Modern Psychology," being the titles of the successive
chapters.

The style has a distinction, and clearness, with frequent flashes of
humour, which make the volumes easy to read, in spite of the unavoid-
able tediousness of some of the topics. Of a certain French treatise on
the faculties of the soul we are told that it " reached a second edition in
1865, and was henceforth regarded as the catechism of this school
[Jouffroy's] and its most complete condemnation" III., p. 24 : of Mansel,
that "his defects were not personal, they were the excellences of his
generation" ibid., p. 28. The only defect, if it is one, is the constant
tracing of views and theories back to Aristotle, Plato or Plotinus. A
theory is not explained when it is said to be Aristotle over again ; similarly,
there is perhaps too much said of "anticipations " of modern views, e.g.,
in Erigena, in Duns Scotus, etc.

Neither in psychology nor in philosophy are there any real anticipa-
tions ; Aristotle's psychology may have had a direct influence when
it was really studied; but this it very seldom was. The apparent
similarity of so many views — e.g., those on the activity of the soul,
the importance of feeling, etc., to those of Aristotle, is irrelevant in
a genuine history ; the formula may be the same, but almost certainly
what is meant in each age, by such a term as "activity" is something
•quite specific, and different from Aristotle's meaning. As an example —
of Albertus and Aquinas it is said (II., p. 116), " We have here 'already
the cleft between mind and matter which Descartes will be found
developing later ; we have, too, the Cartesian principle of union through
God ; and, at the same time there is more than one suggestion of that
later Aristotelianism which Kant so ingeniously elaborated". I am not
sure that Mr. Brett appreciates the extraordinary skill and delicacy with
which the great scholastics were working out, for their own immediate
needs in the first instance, but also for all time to come, a language which
would be adequate to express the deeper aspects of the soul to which men
were slowly penetrating. No doubt there is an attractiveness in the dis-
covery that something very like Wundt's theory of Apperception, and
James' fringe of consciousness, appears in Duns Scotus, or that Associa-
tionism dawned for a brief and ineffective moment in the minds of Witelo
and Roger Bacon, and that subconscious factors in mind were appealed to
again and again, from Augustine onwards, before the theory reached its
height in modern psychology. But it does not really explain how each
writer came to hold his particular form of the theory, and at one particular
period in history.

In the third volume (p. 130) Mr. Brett discusses the idea of a " psycho-
logical " account of writers and their systems — " Whether that means the
consequent rejection of all such systems, as exploded fictions, is quite
another question. To give a psychological explanation of a course of
thought is not the same thing as proving it a form of madness." Pro-
bably, if it could be done, a psychological account of systems would really
give the most satisfactory history, taking into consideration both the
tradition and the social environment of the writers. The views held by
psychologists about the nature and structure of the mind, its relation to
the brain, etc. , have, down to our own times, been decided by their view of
life and its meaning, their philosophy. " It is an open question whether
a psychologist can be an idealist or a realist. He should perhaps be
simply a psychologist. But apart from collectors of details and writers
of monographs, history has failed to produce a psychologist who was not
a philosopher of some kind : and it is notorious that a rejection of all

NEW BOOKS. 527

metaphysics is the most metaphysical of positions" (III., p. 147, 148).
" All through the centuries thought has been observed trailing a cloud of
speculation — and here, in the middle of the nineteenth century, we find
the same problems that troubled Plato still unsolved, and a mind that
embraces Platonism and Atomism [Fechner] repeating again the lost
formulae that should exorcise the mystery " (p. 129).

Accordingly Mr. Brett's discussions of the psychologists are rarely other
than philosophical. On the purely experimental psychology of recent
years he touches in passing, as in discussing Fechner and Wundt,
Ebbinghaus, "the Wiirzburg School," but even in these it is the under-
lying questions, the relation of mind and body, the analysis of the thought-
process, etc., that interest him, rather than the methods and detailed
results. (This gap is filled, however, by Klemm's useful history.) The
theory of Vision — colour-sense, perception of form, localisation — is taken
up more thoroughly, from the interesting account of Alhazen (II. , 59 to
63) onwards to Descartes, Johannes Miiller, Helinholtz, Lotze, etc. Per-
haps Mr. Brett's interest in vision and its psychology leads him rather to
neglect Stumpf and G. E. Miiller, among modern psychologists ; their im-
portance is greater than the relative space he allows them suggests.

Of the moderns, Lotze, Ward, and Stout are evidently recognised as
satisfying Mr. Brett's own psychological ideals ; Lotze, because with him
" the high tide of intellectualism has already turned ; feeling is given a
prominent and significant place in the system," and the value alike of
physiology to psychology and of psychology to physiology is recognised ;
Dr. Ward for his theory of psychic activity — "Ward broke new ground
on one fundamental point — the idea that life and growth belong to the
mind as truly as they belong to the body. The total impression is that
of a process which must be described piecemeal, but takes place always
as a whole ; it is an impression of organic unity, an impression of vital
impulse ever extending its unity over a greater variety and complexity of
action. To grasp this idea is more important than disputing details, for
out of the idea comes inspiration " (III., p. 239).

The whole work is remarkably fresh, vivid and attractively written ;
psychologists will be grateful that a work of this kind has at last been
done, and done by one who has the scholarship, science, and philosophical
training that are requisite for the task.

At the end of each volume there are useful references to the literature.
One or two errors have slipped into the text ; on p. 279 (Vol. II.), "Gray "
should be Gay — the clergyman who put Hartley upon the way of Associa-
tion. On p. 278, text and note seem to have some confusion with regard
to Hartley's work. The German translation and notes seem to have
been first published in 1772-1773 ; these German notes to have been trans-
lated and added to the second edition of Hartley's complete work, 1791 ;
the fourth edition, 1801, had Priestley's additions instead of the German
ones,, and the fifth edition, 1810, had no additions. .»

J. L. M.

Received also : —

Aristotle, the Works of, translated into English, De Caelo, by J. L. Stocks,
and De Generatione et Corruptions, by H. H. Joachim, Oxford,
Clarendon Press, 1922, pp. vi, 268a-313b ; vi, 314a-338b.

C. Flammarion, At the Moment of Death, trans, by Latrobe Carroll, Lon-
don, T. Fisher Uiiwin, Ltd., 1922, pp. 371.

K. Stephen, The Misuse of Mind : A Study of Bergson's Attack on Intel-
lectualism, London, Kegan Paul, Trench, Trubner & Co. Ltd
1922, pp. 107.

528 NEW BOOKS.

Aristotle on Coming-to-be and Passing -away, A Revised Text, with Intro-
duction and Commentary, by H. H. Joachim, Oxford, Clarendon
Press, 1922, pp. xxxviii, 303.

H. Wildon Carr, A Theory of Monads, London, Macmillan & Co. Ltd.,.
1922, pp. viii, 351.

G. E. Moore, Philosophical Studies, London, Kegan Paul, Trench, Trub-
ner & Co. Ltd , 1922, pp. viii, 342.

H. Hoffding, Der Relationsbegriff, Leipzig, O. R. Reisland, 1922, pp. 99.

E. L. Heermance, Chaos or Cosmos ? New York, E. P. Dutton & Co.,,
1922, pp. xxi, 358.

E. Galli, Nel Regno del Conoscere e del Ragionare, Milan, Fratelli Bocca,
1919, pp. 300.

E. Galli, Alle Soglie della Metafisica, Milan, Societa Edit. " Unitas,"
1922, pp. 223.

G. Shann, The Evolution of Knowledge, London, Longmans, Green & Co. r
1922, pp. vi, 100.

D. Nys, La Notion d'Espace, Brussels, R. Sand, 1922, pp. 446.

L. Rougier, Philosophy and the New Physics, translated by M. Masius,
London, G. Routledge & Sons, Ltd., pp. xv, 159.

E. Esclangon, Les Preuves Astronomiques de la Relativite, Paris, Gauthier-

Villars & Cie., 1922, pp. 27.
S. K. Maitra, The Neo-romantic Movement in Contemporary Philosophy,

Calcutta, The Book Co., Ltd., 1922, pp. 268.
J. Endara, Jose Ingenieros y el Porvenir de la Filosofia, 2nd edition,

Buenos Aires, Agencia General de Libreria, pp. 100.
H. Drie.-ch, Geschichte des Vitalismus, 2nd enlarged edition of Part I. of

"Der Vitalismus als Geschichte und als Lehre," Leipzig, J. A.

Barth, 1922, pp. x, 213.
M. Granet, La Religion des Chinois, Paris, Gauthier-Villars & Cie, 1922,

pp. xiii, 202.
Chronicon Spinozanum, Tomus L, The Hague, Societas Spinozana, 1921,

pp. xxiv,, 326.
M. G. Peucesco, Le Mecanisme du Courant de la Conscience, Paris, K

Alcan, 1922, pp. 190.
C. G. Lange and W. James, The Emotions (Psychology Classics, Vol. I.),

Baltimore, Williams & Wilkins Co., 1922, pp. 135.
E. Rignano, Come Funziona la nostra Intelligenza, Bologna, N. Zanichelli,

1922, pp. 46.
M. Hamblin Smith, The Psychology of the Criminal, London, Methuen &

Co. Ltd., 1922, pp. vi, 182.
H. H. Goddard, Juvenile Delinquency, London, Kegan Paul, Trench,

Trubner & Co. Ltd., pp. v, 120.
C. W. Beers, A Mind that Found Itself : an Autobiography, 5th Edition,

Longmans, Green & Co., 1921, pp. 368.
S. Paton, Human Behavior, London, G. Allen & Unwin, Ltd., pp. v, 465,

E. Underbill, The Life of the Spirit and the Life of To-day, London,

Methuen & Co. Ltd., 1922, pp. xii. 241.

N. C. Mukerji, The Ethical and Religious Philosophy of Idealism, Alla-
habad, North India Christian Tract Society, 1922, pp. xviii, 149.

G. Heymans, Einfuhrung in die Ethik auf Grundlage der Erfahrung, 2nd
edition, Leipzig, J. A. Barth, 1922, pp. v., 323.

Smithsonian Institution, Annual Report for 1919, Washington, Govern-
ment Printing Office. 1921, pp. xii, 557.

Carnegie Endowment for International Peace, Year Book, 1920, Washing-
ton, 2 Jackson Place, pp. xiv, 244.

F. Boas, Ethnology of the Kwakiutl (35th Annual Report of the Bureau

of American Ethnology, 1913-14, Part II.), Washington, Govern-
ment Printing Office, 1921, pp. viii, 795-1481.

NEW BOOKS. 529

F. La Flesche, The Osage Tribe (36th Annual Report of the Bureau of
American Ethnology, 1914-15), Washington, Government Printing
Office, 1921, pp. 604.

A. M. Tozzer, Excavation of a Site at Santiago Ahuitzotla, D. F. Mexico
(Bureau of American Ethnology, Bulletin 74), Washington, Govern-
ment Printing Office, 1921, pp. 55, plates 19.

R. Eager, Hints to Probationer Nurses in Mental Hospitals, London,
H, K. Lewis & Co., Ltd., 1922, pp. 80.

H. Price, Cold Light on Spiritualistic * * Phenomena " (reprinted from the
Journal of the S.P.R., May, 1922), London, Kegan Paul, Trench,
Trubner & Co. Ltd., 1922, pp. 15.

34

VIII.— PHILOSOPHICAL PEKIODICALS.

THE BRITISH JOURNAL OP PSYCHOLOGY. Vol. xii. , Part 2. October,
1921. W. H. R. Rivers. 'Affect in the Dream.' [The author accepts
the view that dreams are the attempt to solve in sleep the conflicts of
waking life and points out that, since in sleep only the earlier levels of
mental processes are functioning, the solution of the conflict must take on
an infantile aspect. Transformation in dreams is thus a form of regression
and is not due to the work of a " censor". Its effect is to lessen the
affective aspect of the conflict. When there is no transformation there is
affect, pleasant or unpleasant according to whether the strongest wishes
of the dreamer are fulfilled or not. The intensity of affect is itself a mark
of the infantile nature of the dream.] P. B. Baflard. ' The Limit of the
growth of Intelligence.' [Describes the application of a series of "ab-
surdity " tests among pupils and students from eleven to twenty- two years
of age or more. No greater superiority in these tests is shown by pupils
over sixteen years, from which it is inferred that "intelligence" ceases
to grow about the age of sixteen or grows at only a very slow rate.]
B. Muscio. 'Feeling-tone in Industry.' [Reaffirms the importance of
feelings of fatigue as determinants of output, though they may not be
correlated very highly with output in experimental work done under
highest pressure. Reports as to fatigue at different times of the day by
twenty individual students and fifteen typists show rough correspondence
between the degree of freshness and normal industrial output. " It is
strongly suggested that the deterioration of output towards the end of a
spell of work is a direct response to the painful feeling-tone of these
' feelings' of fatigue. " These feelings may thus play a far greater part in
normal work than current fatigue investigation, engrossed with physio-
logical problems, recognises. And it is suggested that "feelings"
generally — and not merely ' * fatigue " feelings — " should be accorded more
notice in connexion with various sides of industrial life than they at
present receive".] T. H. Pear. 'The Intellectual Respectability of
Muscular Skill. ' [Discusses the value of kinsesthesis, its loose connexion
with language, and the marked degree of individual variations in respect
to kinaesthetic imagery. He enquires into the possibility of a "language
of kinsesthesis" emphasising what its value would be in motion study.
Other questions discussed are the ' intolerance ' of persons with pre-
dominant kinds of imagery, the utility of visual imagery in learning
muscular co-ordinations, and the improvement of the social and intellectual
status of kinsesthetic knowledge.] Other articles in this number are as
follows: H. Hartridge. 'A Vindication of the Resonance Theory of
Audition,' H. A. Q. Sillitoe. 'A Portable Choice Reaction Time
Apparatus ' (with diagram). Charles Fox. f A New Method of Marking
Group Tests.' Charles Fox. Critical notice of J. C. Maxwell Garnett's
' Education and World Citizenship : an essay towards a science of Educa-
tion'.

PHILOSOPHICAL PERIODICALS. 531

LOGOS. Anno iv., Fasc. 4. October-December, 1921. C. Schuwer.

La philosophie et les systemes. [The author's main thesis is that the true
phitosophi:i perennis is the gradual creation of time which integrates the
thought contained in the various "systems " of individual thinkers into a
permanent and coherent whole.] A. Chiappelli. Dinamica spirituale.
[A good essay on the necessity of a genuine Theism as the only way of
reconciling the unity of aim and tendency in the known world with the
plurality of finite subjects. But why does the author think it necessary
to deny the reality of the distinction between good and evil ? To argue
that the tendency of the world is to the elimination of evil one need not
deny that^ as things are, evil is very real and that it is just because it is
so real that it needs to be overcome and cannot be simply ignored. But
it is gratifying to see that the fancy of a "finite God" is absolutely
rejected.] E. di Carlo. Teoria filosofica del diritto. [Why are not all
"events," but only human actions, the " field " of law ? Because human
actions are not mere events, but acts, " in immediate correlation with the
volitional activity of a human subject". What, then, are the specific
characters of an act ? The all-important point is that " imputable acts "
issue from deliberation. Hence Del Vecchio's definition, "an act is the
mode of being of a subject in so far as it has its principium in the sub-
ject," is too wide. It would include mere physical reflexes and sense-
reflexes. Mere thoughts, again, cannot come under the cognizance of
the law.] N. Abbagnano. II realismo critico in America. [A brief ex-
position of the main thesis of the "six realists," mainly directed to the
point that, on their theory, the actual existence, the "that" of the ob-
ject known, is asserted on the strength of an extra-logical instinct.]
W. Riley. American Realism and Its Critics, i. [A severe criticism of
Messrs. Sellars and Spaulding, which suggests that not only do they not
know their own meaning, but that their doctrines really have no coherent
meaning. I could wish there had been a marked protest against the
ignorant attempt to shelter what seems to be only a "neutral monism,"
obscurely expressed, under the name of Plato, an authority with whom
the " neo-realists " in question do not seem to have very close acquaint-
ance. And I do not see that the "traditional account of consciousness,"
whatever it is, is " done for " by simply calling consciousness an " aware-
ness" or a "dimension".] A. Aliotta. II razionalismo e ie verite mate-
matiche. [A. maintains that the method of pure mathematics is
throughout radically "experimental". It is all a matter of making
hypotheses and verifying them. The " a-priorists," from Plato to
Russell, are regarded as refuted by the considerations (a) that different
geometries are equally legitimate, (6) that the choice of indefinables and
indemonstrables is, in part, arbitrary, (c) that the demonstrations of
geometry only prove logical implications. But when all this is admitted,
is "Platonism" really disposed of? As the Phaedo shows, Plato's
doctrine was not really what A. calls it, a "crude intuitionalism".
Granted that all the geometer proves is that his postulates logically
imply his conclusions, are the laws of logical implication themselves
arrived at by a previous experimentation? The unresolved difficulty,
to my mind, is that in genuine experimentation you have always some-
thing by comparison with which you may " verify " your hypothesis ; in
pure mathematics, there seems to be nothing outside the body of deduc-
tions from your postulates which could serve to "verify " the postulates.
The body of deduced consequences has to be at once the inference from
the hypothesis and the evidence by comparison with which the hypothesis
is verified.] Q. Delia Valle. L'apriorita dell' intuizione e I'universalita
dei Valori. [" Values " arise from an intuition which consists in the ap-
plication a priori of a specific category of value to a mental state. Value

532 PHILOSOPHICAL PEEIODICALS.

— the category — is always one and identical ; differences of quality between
values are due to differences of the extent to which the category is applied.
Knowledge is a special case of valuation.] Reviews.

RIVISTA DI FILOSOFIA NEO-ScoLASTiCA. Anno xiii., Fasc. v. Sep-
tember-October, 1921. Editorial. [Explains the inauguration at Milan
on the preceding 7th December of the Catholic University of the Sacred
Heart, of which this Review now becomes the official organ, and the or-
ganisation in particular of the department of Philosophy. Tne projected
course seems a very sound and thorough one ; the present writer wishes
the new University much success in its work.] Q. Cattaneo. Roberto
Ardigo nei ricordi d'uno del suoi primi discepoli all' Universitd, di Padova.
[Reminiscences of the famous ex-priest and Positivist by an early pupil,
a student at Padua when Ardigo was appointed there in 1881.] Q. Sestili.
La Filosofia di S. Bonaventura. [A careful study of S. Bona Ventura's
most characteristic doctrines of (a) the aim of philosophy, (b) created
things, (c) knowledge. Well-documented ; I confess the defence of the
" ontological argument " seems to me to evade the real difficulty. The
author seems to me to establish only the hypothetical proposition, " if
there is a God, He exists," or "if God is known, He is known as exist-
ing ". The persistent objector would probably say, like Hobbes, that God
may be imagined or thought of, but is not known at all.] C. Baeumker.
Pietro d'Ibernia. [Continuation of the article begun in Fasc. ii. Peter's
disputation before Manfred shows no Augustinian influence. It is wholly
a product of the Aristotelian movement ; the author's connexions are with
medicine and natural science, not with theology, and his guide to Aris-
totle's meaning is not Avicenna but the less Nee-Platonic Averroes. His
Aristotelianism may probably have been a formative influence in the
thought of his disciple St. Thomas. The Latin text of the disputation is
given.] Reviews. Anno xiii., Fasc. vi. November-December, 1921.
E. Ciafardini. L'immortalita delV anima in Cicerone. [A discussion
of Cicero's first Tusculan, marked by sympathetic understanding of
Cicero's personality. But the Platonic proof that the " motion which
moves itself " is everlasting is much more fully expounded in the Laws,
to which no reference is made, than in the Phaedrus, and a study of
Prof. Burnet's edition of the Phaedo might lead Mr. Ciafardini to re-
consider his remarks about the historical character of the picture of
Socrates in the Phaedo.] P. Rotta. Del Platonismo in Aristoteie. [Con-
cluded from the issue for January-February, 1921. The author rightly
dwells on the point that the opposition between Platonism and Aris-
totelianism is far from being so sharp as the tone of Aristotle's own
criticisms would suggest. His view is that Aristotle habitually forgets
that Plato's doctrine is primarily epistemological whereas his own is
cosmological. I am not sure that this distinction is really valid. To
understand Plato's thought we should surely start rather from the notices
of his teaching furnished by Aristotle himself and other immediate pupils,
and from works where Plato is not hampered by the necessity of keeping
up the dramatic fiction that we are listening to a conversation held in the
fifth century, that is from the Laws, the Epinomis, the Epistles, than from
the Philebus and Timceus, where we are dealing with the ideas of fifth-
century Pythagoreanism. The Philebus may serve as an instantia crucis.
We know from Aristotle that the Pythagorean antithesis of Infinite and
Limit was not accepted, in that form, by Plato, and that this was one of the
two points which, according to Aristotle, made the difference between the
two philosophies. Yet all through the Philebus Plato works, obviously
from a desire for dramatic verisimilitude, with the Pythagorean categories.
Robin, to my mind, is obviously beginning at the right end in attempting

PHILOSOPHICAL PEEIODICALS. 533

to get at Plato's thought by asking how it was understood by such men as
Aristotle, Xenocrates, Speusippus. Now the Laws shows that, so far
from the conception of God playing a subordinate part in Plato's thought,
it was this concept, and the use of it to solve the cosrnological problem,
which was central in Platonism. If I might make a suggestion, I could
wish that a neo-scholastic would attempt to discuss the question whether
the real perennis pkilosophia is not just the Platonism in Aristotle, and
whether everything in Aristotle which is not really in Plato is more than
an obstinate survival of " naturalistic " prejudices due to early education
in Ionian cosmology and biology. Mr. Rotta has naturally a great deal
to say of the so-called vovs TTOITJTIKOS. Is not the appearance of this
disturbing " supernatural " entity at the end of an otherwise naturalistic
work on psychology just an example of Platonism imperfectly amalga-
mated with Ionian naturalism ?] L. Stefanini. Morte e vita nel pensiero
di G. V. Gravina. [Concluded from an. xii., fasc. vi.] Notes and discus-
sions. Lo stato attuale della filosofia tedesca. [A good general survey.
But why cannot the champions of the philotophia perennis speak of Kant
fairly and dispassionately ? We need be no Kantian to be alive to the
facts that Kant was a considerable thinker and that the version of his
thought given by the " idealist " neo-Kantians is a travesty. Why must
Kant be the scape-goat for the sins of men whom he would have been
the first to disown? And — it is a small matter but significant— Kant
never wrote a work on Religion within the limits of Pure Reason. What
he did write of was Religion within the limits of Mere Reason, a very
different matter.] Reviews.

RIVISTA DI FILOSOFIA. Anno xiii., No. 3. July-September, 1921.
P. Carabellese. Che cosa e la Filosofia ? [The discussion starts with the
views of Gentile and Croce, the latter of whom really abolishes philosophy
as such by making it identical with its own history. The writer's own
view is that philosophy is wrongly described as " knowledge " ; it should
be more precisely called "theory". It is theory with the universal for
its object, not the so-called "concrete" universal, but the abstract uni-
versals of which all concretes are the synthesis. Such universals are the
limits of the concrete and are never absolutely reached. Philosophy,
similarly, is always in the making, never made.] L. Vivante. DelV in-
telligenza nell' espressione. [The distinctive characteristic of poetical utter-
ance is that the " matter," words, rhythm, rhyme is not a mere external
vehicle for an already formed thought ; it suggests and provokes the thought.
Of course this is true in a lesser degree of good prose.] G. Semprini.
Sul misticismo. [Mysticism not " pathological " nor yet identical with
religion.] Reviews, etc. Anno xiii., No. 4, October-December, 1921. C.
Quastella. II concetto fenomenistico dell' identita del me e delV incos-
ciente. [An extract from the author's Ragione del fenomenismo."] G. Mon-
tesano. Psicologia del riso e del comico. [Numerous theories of the
"laughable " or " comic," from Plato to Freud, are reviewed, and all found
inadequate. The author's own view is that laughter, a sudden explosion by
which energy is diverted into new muscular channels, is valuable as giving
relief from muscular fatigue. The source of the sudden explosion can be
explained psychologically by starting with the simple case where we amuse
ourfeelves by " playing a trick " on some one. What causes the explosion
and gives the relief, and so causes the laughter when we "drop the mask," is
the contrast between the attitude we pretend to be keeping up and the very
different one we are shortly to assume. This gives us a clue to the char-
acter of the " comic " situation in general. Here the whole situation may
be a feigned one, but the point of it lies in sympathetic appreciation of the
relief which comes from a momentary throwing off of the inhibitions

534 PHILOSOPHICAL PERIODICALS.

conventionally imposed on our social behaviour and of the fatigue of keeping
them up. The theory is cleverly worked out with a good deal of detail^
but one may perhaps suspect that it is a little too simple. I would sug-
gest that the discussion of "laughter" should be kept carefully apart from
that of the "comic ". There is much laughter which is not provoked by
the " comic". Laughter may be an expression of pain, of anger, of sheer
affection. Nor is this remarkable when we remember the diffused char-
acter of the bodily expressions of emotion. And is it clear that the pro-
posed explanation of the u comic" itself explains, e.g., why some of us
find Henry James's Ambassadors a masterpiece of the comic art ? But the
article at any rate deserves careful study.] E. di Carlo. Tre lettere in-
edite del P. Luigi Taparelli D'Azeglio a V. Gioberti. Reviews, etc.

REVUE NEO-SCOLASTIQUE DE PHILOSOPHIE. xxive Anne"e. No. 93.
February, 1922. C. H. Grandgent. Dante, Scholar and Philosopher.
[A study by the Professor of Romance literature at Harvard]. D. Lottin.
Les elements de la moralite des actes dans les ecoles avant Saint Thomas.
[On the answers given by earlier schoolmen to the question whether the
morality of an act depends solely on the agent's intention. A summary of
the views of Abelard, Hugh of St. Victor, Peter Lombard, Albert the
Great, Alexander of Hales.] D. Nys. L'espace reel ou I'univers actuel
est-il infini ? [The arguments for and against the possibility of the actual
infinite are alike inconclusive. The attempts of modern times to prove
either the finitude or the infinitude of the universe by appeal to physics
or astronomy (Olbers, Arrhenius, Wundt and others) are equally inconclu-
sive. The author's own view is that from consideration of what would
happen if the Creator gave a body " at the boundary " of the universe an
initial velocity and at the same time deprived it of gravity we are driven
to accept either a " real infinite space, "-i.e., I suppose, an infinite plurality
of " stellar systems," or the infinite void.] R. Kremer. La Connaissance
Historique, son objet et sa nature. [An excellent and careful essay on the
impossibility of regarding history as a science in the same sense as either
the "exact "or the " positive" sciences. The root of the difficulty is
that history is concerned with the concrete past, the devenir de
Vhumanite.] Reviews, etc.

JOURNAL OF PHILOSOPHY, xix. (1922), 6. Q. A. Tawney and E. L.
Talbot. ' Democracy and Morals. ' [A defence of Dewey's social philosophy
against the charge of ' radicalism ' which is so deadly just now to American
professors.] J. E. Turner. 'Dr. A. N. Whitehead's Scientific Realism.'
[Does not "see anything which prevents realism from taking its place
within a system of absolute idealism fuller and deeper than any yet
conceived " !] Q. H. Mead. * A Behavioristic Account of the Significant
Symbol.' [" Significance belongs to things in their relation and to
individuals. It does not lie in mental processes which are enclosed
within individuals."] xix., 7. S. P. Lamprecht. 'The Metaphysical
Status of Sensations.' [Seeks salvation in "Plato's contention that in
vision the eye becomes a seeing eye, and the object becomes a white
object".] J. L. Mursell. 'Truth as Correspondence: A Redefinition. '
[To " avoid the well-known dialectical difficulties of the theory of error ".
" Little is known as yet of the means by which the nervous system makes
selections from and performs integrations upon the vast number of stimuli
which come in all the time. But psychology and neurology are decidedly
justified in assuming that this enormously complex mechanism performs
its task somehow. . . ." Thus "every judgment is uniquely related to
its object by virtue of the fact that it is a response to which the object in
question has been or is the stimulus" and it is "true when it is the

PHILOSOPHICAL PERIODICALS. 535

response of a normal organism to a given stimulus".] T. de Laguna.
' The Complex Dilemma ; A Rejoinder.' [To A. P. Brogan, xviii., 21.]
xix., 8. R. Demos. 'Romanticism vs. the Worship of Facts.' [The
romantic seeks to escape from the actual into the real, and " the actual
world is only one of the infinite possible worlds" — in which "existence
is an evil and creation the original sin ".] H. A. Wadman. ' Relativity,
Old and New.' [Criticises Turner in xix., 6.] W. R. Wells. 'An
Historical Anticipation of John Fiske's Theory regarding the Value of
Infancy.' [By 'V. F.' in The Friend's Annual for 1834.] H. H. Park-
hurst reports on the 21st Annual Meeting of the American Philosophical
Association, xix. 9. Q. P. Conger. ' The Implicit Duality of Think-
ing.' [Deduces it from the selectiveness of perception and relation of
every object to its background, and declares it " a metaphysical principle
of prime importance".] A. A. Merrill. ' The t of Physics.' ["Is the
fourth dimension of experience lived as real time, but treated mathemati-
cally as if it were space," as if it could = 0. But " we live in real time
and not in the t of physics ".] W. T. Bush reports on the Paris Philo-
sophical Congress at Christmas, 1921.

INTERNATIONAL JOURNAL OF ETHICS, xxxii.,2. January, 1922. Arthur
Henderson. 'The Character and Policy of the British Labour Party. '
[Claims that basis of the party is intellectual, not economic, though its
members are naturally largely also members of Trades Unions ; states
that its aim is to control government and that its policy will be directed
towards greater efficiency of industry and agriculture for public service,
reduction of unproductive expenditure, diminution of power of wealth in
politics and remodelling of diplomatic machinery.] Benjamin Ives
Oilman. ' What is Liberty ? ' [Formulates definition that liberty ia
acting one's part in the resultant will of all whom one's purpose concerns,
develops implications that each should give the same weight to motives,
adequately imagined, of others as to those he feels, and summarises that
liberty is the sum of equality and fraternity.] C. J. Cadoux. ' The
Individual Factor in Social Progress.' [A defence of the view that though
society may not be ready for the universal application of a moral ideal the
individual accepting it should act according to it and propagate his views ;
applies to problems of divorce, vegetarianism, slavery and war. ] A. B.
Wolfe. 'Emotion, Blame, and the Scientific Attitude in Relation to
Radical Leadership.' [Holds that attitude based upon desire for thorough-
going innovations is aroused chiefly by attention to desires thwarted by
social maladjustments and leads naturally to resentment, anger and per-
sonal blame, that these cannot develop a policy ; discusses characteristics
of efficient leaders on the basis of extent to which conduct is determined
by sensibility, emotion, sentiment, or impersonal rational intelligence, and
suggests need for scientific research into nature of obstructions to progress.]
Benjamin Qinzburg. ' Hypocrisy as a Pathological Symptom. ' [Expands
the thesis that hypocrisy is inevitable in any society in which all members
do not develop morally at the same rate from the same level.] Alfred H.
Lloyd. ' Leadership and Progress.' [Assumes that progress proceeds in
periods, each a new life of the people, summarises conditions precedent to
birth of such a new life and characteristics of leaders in relation to organ-
ised society, and maintains that they partake of leadership in so far as they
are individuals and interpret life.] Rupert Clendon Lodge. ' Plato and
the Moral Standard.' [Concludes examination of Platonic standards ;
maintains that each of proposed standards means that moral conduct is
organised and directed by insight into the genuine structure of reality.}

L'

IX.— NOTE.

IMAGINISM.

REFLEXION on Mr. Fawcett's article in the April number of MIND, and
reconsideration of his general point of view, assisted by a good deal of
correspondence with him, have convinced me that some injustice was done
to his work in the review of Divine Imagining that I wrote more than a
year ago. It is my intention to return to the subject later ; but, in the
meantime, a few words appear to be called for .

The chief significance of Mr. Fawcett's work may perhaps be best
brought out by a reference to that of Prof. Alexander. In Space, Time
and Deity, we find an elaborate account of almost every important feature
of our universe ; and an attempt is made to deduce everything — even the
most fundamental categories — from the general structure of Space-Time.
It is a highly speculative adventure, and can hardly be expected to carry
complete conviction to every mind ; but to a considerable extent it appears
to be successful — certainly at least not an obvious failure. But there is
one thing of which he is confessedly not able to give any satisfactory
account — viz., the particular qualities of things, the appearances of colour,
sound, smell, etc. Now, I understand Mr. Fawcett's main contention to
be that particular qualities can be best understood as the creations of a
Divine Imagining — a view that recalls the work of the Demiurge described
in Plato's Timaeus, though Mr. Fawcett's view differs from that in several
particulars. Deity, from this point of view, instead of coming at the end
of the process of Creative Evolution (as with Prof. Alexander) has to be
thought of as present and active at the beginning ; though this does not
preclude the possibility of a development in the Divine towards a higher
perfection — as suggested, for instance, in the recent Gifford Lectures by
Sir Henry Jones.

If this view is adopted, it would seem that qualities, as distinguished
from what Prof. Alexander describes as the * categorial ' aspects of the
Cosmos, would have to be regarded as being, in a sense, arbitrary — as
contrasted, at least, with the strict avaynrj that is found in the categorial
framework. It is in this sense that I understand Mr. Fawcett to speak
of Chance ; just as Hegel appeared to recognise an element of * con-
tingency ' in the created universe. A view of this kind seems to me
perfectly intelligible, though the particular expression of it may be open
to question. Indeed, it seems to me the most intelligible account of the
world-process that has ever, so far as I am aware, been put forward.
Hence I now regard Mr. Fawcett's work as considerably more important
than I at first perceived. It seems at least, if nothing else, to be the
necessary supplement to such an account as that of Prof. Alexander.

It may be noted that the theory, thus interpreted, appears to involve
that there is a real beginning of the time process, though not necessarily
any end. There seems to be no insuperable difficulty in accepting this
view, though it calls for a good deal of discussion. It does not preclude
the possibility of a return of the time process upon itself, such as Mr.
Fawcett appears to maintain.

I still find many things in Mr. Fawcett's book that seem highly specula-
tive ; and I am not quite clear as to his grounds for affirming some of them ;
but I know of no definite grounds for denying most of them. His idea of
creation out of nothing" seems to call for more explanation. But, so far as
I understand his main positions, they seem at least plausible and enlighten-
ing. The acceptance of them would involve some modifications in opinions
that I have previously ventured to suggest, but not so much change as
might at first appear necessary. Of this, however, more hereafter.

J. S. MACKENZIE.

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