A new system of scientific procedure; being an attempt to ascertain, develop, and systematise the general methods employed in modern enquiries at their best

r

A NEW SYSTEM

OF

BY

G. SPILLER

AUTHOR OF "THE MIND OF MAN", ETC.

LONDON

WATTS & CO.
17 JOHNSON'S COURT, FLEET STREET, B.C.

THE LIBRARY

OF

THE UNIVERSITY
OF CALIFORNIA

LOS ANGELES

FROM THE LIBRARY OF
ERNEST CARROLL MOORE

A NEW SYSTEM

OF

SCIENTIFIC PROCEDURE

BEING

AN ATTEMPT TO ASCERTAIN, DEVELOP, AND

SYSTEMATISE THE GENERAL METHODS

EMPLOYED IN MODERN ENQUIRIES

AT THEIR BEST

BY

G. SPILLER

AUTHOR OF "THE MIND OF MAN", ETC.

LONDON
WATTS & CO.

17 JOHNSON'S COURT, FLEET STREET, E.G.

1921

"Mais comment apprendre a bien conduire ses sens?
En faisant ce que nous avons fait lorsque nous les avons
bien conduits." Condiiiac.

"Neither the naked hand nor the understanding left to
itself can effect much. It is by instruments and helps
that the work is done, which are as much wanted for
the understanding as for the hand." Bacon.

"Ich sag' es dir: Bin Kerl, der spekuliert,
1st wie ein Tier auf dtirrer Heide,
Von einem bo'sen Geist im Kreis herumgefuhrt,
Und rings umher liegt schone grime Weide."

Goethe.

"La science s'avance parce qu'elle n'est sure de rien."

Duclaux.

"Natural philosophy is essentially united in all its
departments, through all of which one spirit reigns and
one method of inquiry applies." sir John Hetschei.

"The logic of Science is the universal Logic, applicable
to all inquiries in which man can engage." j. s. Mill.

DEDICATED

TO

THE IMPERISHABLE MEMORY

OF

FRANCIS BACON

THE FOUNDER OF SCIENTIFIC METHODOLOGY

160718:

PREFACE.

The present treatise may be regarded as an attempt at a
modern re-statement of Bacon's position in his Novum Organum,
and this principally ~ because the author follows the great Eli-
zabethan in his suspicion of all precipitate theorising and in
his conviction that the human mind may be made incalculably
more effective for the discovery of truth than it has hitherto
been. Like Bacon, he deems it eccentric to expect of men a
high degree of methodological competency, so long as there
exists no science of correct thinking grounded on a circumspect
and exhaustive analysis of the process of thought at its best.
Until such a science is established, the author opines, the pro-
gress of the sciences generally, especially those relating to the
individual and to society, will be both snail-like and ant-like.
This demand for a science of correct thinking— not hasty or
laborious speculations on the subject— is so eminently rational
that it is difficult to imagine how any soberly reflecting per-
son can forbear echoing it, whilst in respect of the obstacles
which might be encountered in such a truly formidable enter-
prise, there should be agreement that these obstacles must be,
manifestly, objectively discpvered, not hypothetically created.
The author fain hopes that, as a result of over a quarter of
a century of indefatigable attention to the methodological prob-
lem, he has substantially advanced by this contribution the
state of the science to which all the other sciences turn for
light, as the planets do to the sun. On the principles he has
adopted, there should be at last a possibility of changing the
whirling chaos in the psychological, moral, economic, and kind-
red sciences into a steady and relatively swift forward move-
ment—to the intense relief and immense benefit of the entire
human race.- Moreover, whatever the problem or issue that
might arise, fair assistance towards its examination and reso-
lution will be probably found in this work by those who have
assimilated its proposals.

These pages have a predominantly practical object— to aid
the inquirer in any investigation, extensive or restricted, which

VI

he may desire to undertake. On this account the problems of
the nature of reality, of knowledge, and of the categories of
thought, have been left severely alone, and even the question
of whether science presents us with a vision of eternal truth
or offers only convenient conceptual models of a precarious
kind has been brushed aside. Such a course does not involve
a contemptuous dismissal of ancient and modern controversies
on a variety of philosophical topics, or even a doubt as to
their penetrating significance, but rather a desire to avoid all
needless complications and to fix the attention on the practical
aspect of the methodological problem. In fact, the composing
of these controversies can evidently not be hoped for anterior
to the establishment of an effective methodology. Accordingly,
the centre of gravity of this treatise must be sought in Book II,
where a series of working Conclusions have been formulated,
and only secondarily in Book I, the primary intention of which
is to clear the way for a due appreciation of the Book it pre-
cedes.

In conclusion, the author desires cordially to thank those who
at diverse times read through the work in typescript and as-
sisted him by valuable suggestions, most especially Prof.
Patrick Geddes, Prof. J. H. Muirhead, and Dr. Cecil Desch.

The work has been completed abroad under considerable difficulties,
entailing certain unavoidable shortcomings in regard to bibliography,
indexes, and verification of sources. My warmest thanks are due to the
staff of the printing office, more especially to its manager, my friend
J. Safranek, who practically saw the work through the press, reducing
the author's co-operation to a negligible minimum.

Geneva, 1921.

G. SPILLER.

CONTENTS.

Page

PREFACE v

TABLE OF CONTENTS vii

PRELIMINARY CONSIDERATIONS 1

I. FUNDAMENTAL ASSUMPTION OF THIS TREATISE.-II. THE UNITY OF NATURE
AND OF LIFE.— III. THE METHODOLOGIST'S PROCEDURE.— IV. THE METHODOLOG1ST
AS SCIENTIFIC? DISCOVERER.

BOOK I.— THEORY.

PART I.— THE PROBLEM.

Section I.— ABSOLUTISM AND RELATIVISM IN METHODOLOGY .... 17

Section II.— THE INFANT AND CHILD MIND 22

Section III.— THE SCIENTIFICALLY UNTRAINED ADULT 24

Section IV.— THE SCIENTIFICALLY TRAINED INDIVIDUAL .... 28
Section V.— THE MAN OF GENIUS, AND THOUGHT AS HABIT-CON-
TROLLED AND AS A PAN-HUMAN PRODUCT 34

Section VI.— THE PROGRESS OF METHODOLOGICAL THEORY ... 38

Section VII.- CONCLUSION 53

PART IL— DEFINITION OF SOME IMPORTANT
METHODOLOGICAL TERMS.

Section VIII.— OBJECT, FACT, ENVIRONMENT 54

Section IX.— OBSERVATION 57

Section • X.— EXPERIMENT AND USE OF INSTRUMENTS .... 80

Section XI.— CAUSAL ENQUIRIES 85

Section XII.— HYPOTHESES 89

Section XIII.— GENERALISATION OR EXTENSION 98

Section XIV.— VERIFICATION AND PROOF 113

Section XV.— DEDUCTION 118

Section XVI.— DEFINITE, EXACT, AND MATHEMATICAL PROCE-
DURE:—

a) The Case for Mathematical Procedure 123

b) Definition of Terms 128

c) Precision in Statements 129

d) Definiteness in Scientific Work generally 130

e) Mathematical and Non-Mathematical Procedure . . 130

Section XVII.— INDUCTION 132

Section XVIII.— CONCLUSION 142

BOOK H.— PRACTICE.

PART III.— INTRODUCTORY.

Section XIX.— INTRODUCTORY AND SUMMARY 145

Section XX.-
Conclusion

PART IV.— PREPARATORY STAGE.

-STUDIES PREPARATORY TO ALL INVESTIGATIONS ....
1. — Need of Procedure being determined Methodologically

154
154

Conclusion 2.— Need of a Synthetic Methodology, and of a Historical
Appreciation of Differences in Methods and in the
Scope of Enquiries 163

Vlll

Page

Conclusion 3. — Need of Fixing Methodologically the General Nature

and Relations of Phenomena 174

Conclusion 4. — Need of a Life-Time Object of Enquiry 180

Conclusion 5.— Need of a Simple Starting-Point 181

Conclusion 6. — Need of Shunning Vagueness and Over-Subtlety in an

Enquiry 185

Conclusion 7.— Need of Recognising that Formal Rules are Barren

and that Psychical Prejudice is Baneful 190

Conclusion 8. — Need of taking advantage of Special Scientific Methods,
of utilising Existing Knowledge, of having regard to
the Future, and of allowing for Personal Equation and

for Training 194

Conclusion 9. — Need of Experimental Preparation in Methodology . 199
Conclusion 10. — Need of securing the Mental, Physiological, and
Environmental Conditions conducive to Efficiency and

to Waste Elimination 201

Conclusion 11.— Need of Systematically Framing Hypotheses . . . 210

Conclusion 12.— Need of Co-operation in Scientific Work 211

Conclusion 13. — Need of a Provisional Conception as to the Form

which an Enquiry should assume 216

PART V.— WORKING STAGE.

Section XXL— PRECISE NATURE OF PROBLEM TO BE INVESTIGATED 236

Conclusion 14. — Need of Precisely Determining the Nature of the

Problem under Investigation 236

Conclusion 15. — Need of Exact Terminology, of Conclusions in the
Form of Precise Definitions, and of Extreme Definite-
ness in Thought and Statements 242

Section XXII.— OBSERVATION . . 256

Conclusion 16. — Need of Applying the Categories; of Strenuous Mental
Application in the Process of Observation; and of the
Observations being Graded, Comprehensive, Important,
Numerous, Full, Rational and Relevant, Original, Auto-
matically Initiated, and Methodically Developed 257

Conclusion 17.— Need of Critically Examining the Reality of Alleged

Divisions . 273

a) Complex Facts regarded as Simple. — b) Simple Facts
regarded as Complex. — c) Environment Ignored. —
d) Influence of Time and of Position in Space and Mind.

Conclusion 18.— Need of Keeping and Consulting Records, of Improving
the Memory Experimentally, of Employing the Imagi-
nation, and of utilising the Intelligence in its entirety 282

Conclusion 19.— Need of Ensuring Easy, Exhaustive, and Impartial

Observation 293

Conclusion 20. — Need of Searching for the Simplest Practicable Case 296

Conclusion 20a.-Need of Degree Determination within and between
Divisions, and, in this connection, need of searching
for Pure, Normal, Minimal, Maximal, Parallel, Distantly
Related, Seemingly Unrelated, Deviating, Morbid,
Eccentric, Border, and Transitional Instances 308

Conclusion 206.-Need of Proceeding Dialectically, /.e., need of searching
in connection with any facts for what is Con-
tradictory, Contrary, Opposite, Common, Disparate,
Dependent, Interdependent, Supplementary, Alter-
native, Complementary, and Relative 308

Conclusion 21. — Need of Habitual Alertness in order to discover
Exceptional, Unobtrusive, and Unsuspected Facts,
and need of Unremitting Concentration in Scientific
Work generally 308

IX
Page

Conclusion 22. — Need of Collecting the Largest Number of Leading

Facts, and Ascertaining the Unlike as well as the Like 313

Conclusion 23. — Need of Exhausting Classes of Facts, their Conditions,

and the Uniformities accompanying them ! 317

Conclusion 24. — Need of a Critical Attitude, of Provisional Treatment,
and of Repeated Testing, throughout the Process of

Enquiry 319

Section XXIII.— GENERALISATION .' 326

Conclusion 25.— Need of Strenuous Mental Application in the Process
of Generalisation, and need of the Generalisations
being Graded, Comprehensive, Important, Numerous,
Full, Rational and Relevant, Original, Automatically
Initiated, and Methodically Developed 326

Conclusion 26.— Need of Postponing Large Generalisations to near

the Conclusion of the Enquiry 342

Conclusion 27.— Need of Exhausting the Degree of Applicability of a
Conclusion within and between Divisions, and also
of Extending it to Parallel, Distantly Related, Seem-
ingly Unrelated, Pure, Normal, Minimal, Maximal,
Deviating, Morbid, Eccentric. Border, and Transitional
Instances 343

Conclusion 28.— Need of Proceeding Dialectically, i.e., need of
Searching in connection with any Conclusion for what
is Contradictory, Contrary, Opposite, Common, Dis-
parate, Dependent, Interdependent, Supplementary,
Alternative, Complementary, and Relative .... 356
Section XXIV.— VERIFICATION AND PROOF 363

Conclusion 29. — Need of Verifying and Proving all Conjectures . . 363
Section XXV.— INTERIM STATEMENT 366

Conclusion 30.— Need of Exhausting and Gradually Consolidating
Lines of Inductive Enquiry and of Aiming at a

Balanced Interim Statement 366

Section XXVI.-DEDUCTION 369

Conclusion 31. — Need of Strenuous Mental Application in the Process
of Deduction, and need of the Deductions being
Graded, Comprehensive, Important, Numerous, Full,
Rational and Relevant, Original, Automatically Initia-
ted, and Methodically Developed 369

Section XXVII.— APPLICATION 381

Conclusion 32. — Need of Drawing Practical Deductions 381

Section XXVIII.— CLASSIFICATION 392

Conclusion 33.— Need of Judicious Classification 392

Section XXIX.— FINAL STATEMENT 403

Conclusion 34. — Need of Formulating a Final Statement 403

Section XXX.— REPORT STAGE 404

Conclusion 35.— Need of Being Concise, of Carefully Summarising,

and of Writing Acceptably 404

PART VI.— CONCLUSION CONCERNING CONCLUSIONS.

Section XXXI.- CONCLUSION CONCERNING CONCLUSIONS 405

Conclusion 36. — Need of Respecting each of the preceding Conclusions
in all the above Conclusions, of Improving them,
and also of applying them to Non-Scientific Matters 405

PART VIL- GENERAL CONCLUSION.

Section XXXII.— GENERAL CONCLUSION .. 412

INDEX OF AUTHORS, INDEX OF SUBJECTS, BIBLIOGRAPHY.

PRELIMINARY CONSIDERATIONS.

I.— FUNDAMENTAL ASSUMPTION OF THIS TREATISE.

§ 1. A System of Scientific Procedure? Whewell1 held that
an art of discovery is impossible, and, as if by contrast,
Macaulay- argued that all men instinctively practised this art.
Other thinkers have assured us that by familiarising ourselves
with any one science, our entire mode of thought becomes of
necessity scientific ; and still others that each science is unique,
and that consequently there cannot be a single methodology
embracing the whole field of knowledge. Finally, there are
few who do not shake their heads at the suggestion of framing
rules for the right conduct of the understanding.

Lest the reader, impregnated with views such as those just
alluded to, lay this treatise aside without reading it, or peruse
it convinced that its underlying conception is vitiated by a
gross fallacy, it will be well to outline in this and the following
paragraphs the fundamental assumption pervading the whole
work. Whether we note the remarkably slow progress through
aeons upon aBons in the development of implements, or the
infinite efforts which have yielded modern science in all its
incompleteness ; whether we observe how microscopically small
have been the individual contributions of the men and women
of far renown, as we shall see, compared to the vast stock of
human acquisitions existing in this age, or the sick man's pace
in the evolution of political and economic institutions, we become
equally confirmed in our belief that the individual is first and
foremost a cultural being, vitally dependent on general human
progress, and virtually a zero if thrown back on himself.

To cast this thought in the form of a tentative definition:
Man alone is primarily a civilisable or culturable being, that
is, Man alone possesses the power to absorb the substantial
part of a highly developed civilisation, together with the ability
of advancing this civilisation to an infinitesimal degree; or,
stated more abstractly and broadly, the stock of humanity's

1 See § 17.

2 See § 57.

2 PRELIMINARY CONSIDERATIONS.

acquisitions, divided by the number of human beings who
have lived, allowing for the actual physical and cultural con-
ditions, approximately yields the single individual's intellectual,
moral, and other capacities for invention and discovery. From
this definition, if substantially correct, it follows that the unaided
individual, reared in a cultureless environment, looms indiffer-
ently above his cousins, the apes. Fairly and squarely facing
the facts of general historical development from the most primi-
tive times to our day — the gigantic evolution of intercommuni-
cation through language and transport, of buildings and furniture,
of implements and industrial processes, of domesticated animals
and cultivated plants, of discovered energies and raw materials,
of trade and tribal intercourse to internationalism, of dress
and education, of play and pastimes and the inner life and its
expression, of nutrition and care of health, of morals and reli-
gion, of science and art, of the family and other non-civic
groupings, of civic groupings, government, and law — small doubt
should remain in regard to the general soundness of the above
position.1 (For some details, see Conclusion 13.)

We may consider here with advantage the signification of three con-
nected expressions.

Culture is a term which is frequently, but unwarrantably, confused with
intellectual culture. Those who do so should remember that it is common
to speak of physical culture ; that there are organisations in many countries
calling themselves societies for ethical culture ;2 and that the phrase artistic
or aesthetic culture is not unknown. Culture, then, simply implies culti-
vation, whether it be that of the soil, of the intelligence, of moral and
aesthetic sentiments, or of practical ability, on the basis of the inventions
and discoveries made by the human race. Culture, in other words, is a
comprehensive term to be employed in contradistinction to native power
or spontaneity. He who is truly cultured, is highly cultivated in respect
of every important part of his nature.

Secondly. It is often asserted that culture is a social product. The
term social provides, however, no insight into the fact that virtually the
whole of humanity, from earliest times to to-day, is collectively responsible
for the contemporary store of general culture. Alternative terms, such
as inter-individual, inter-social, super-social, are alike unsatisfactory because
of their indefiniteness. A new term is therefore required. In our genera-
tion we have heard much of Pan-Germans, Pan-Slavs, Pan-Islamists, terms
expressive of a universal category. Profiting by the current use of pan
as an adjective and adverb, we may speak of culture as pan-human. The

1 A signal example of collective advance is furnished by the fact that
the Royal Society, the Accademia del Cimento of Florence, the Academic
Royale at Paris, and the Berlin Academy were founded within a few years
of each other, plainly indicating a trend of the times rather than the
embodiment of novel ideas occurring to exceptionally gifted individuals.

2 Mill (System of Logic, bk. 6, ch. 10, §2) speaks of "intellectual und
moral culture".

PRELIMINARY CONSIDERATIONS. 3

term employed in this form would render it at once plain that our culture
is, for all intents, the cumulative product of the efforts of all mankind
past and present, and no doubt enthusiasts will be found who will go
further and speak of a pan-humanist movement and of themselves as pan-
humanists.

Lastly. For the reasons stated in the immediately preceding paragraph,
the term sociology appears to be misleading. It is generally taken to
mean that human beings live in groups; but since many animal species
live also in groups, the term does not hint at any distinctively human
characteristic. What is more, since man depends primarily on culture
and Culture is a pan-human product, he is not a social, but a pan-species
being— a being whose mode of life is intimately related to, although not
identical with, that of his kind as a whole. Consequently, the term
sociology expresses a fact which holds of many animal species, but not
of man. We need, therefore, a term which shall have reference to man's
essential dependence on culture, and which shall, if possible, embody the
conception that culture is primarily a cumulative species-product. We
might accordingly speak of specio-psychics, to indicate that culture is the
product of the spiritual endeavours of the whole of humanity. Under-
standing, then, Specio-Psychics to be the equivalent of "science of pan-
species culture", we may regard it as concerned with one of the leading
aspects of nature, and constituting with Physics (the science of the in-
animate) and Biology (the science of the animate) the three most distinc-
tive departments of existence, to be ultimately subsumed under Cosmology
(the science of the whole).

Strictly interpreting our definition, there is practically nothing
which we can profitably leave to the individual as such. A
tendency towards co-operation extending to all ages and all
lands is, accordingly, the very life-breath of human society,
and so far as this factor is absent there is minimal advance,
stagnation, or retrogression, disguised maybe by ignorance, pre-
judice, and the weaving of mazes of error. However, since
truth is so difficult of attainment, aimless co-operation argues
profuse waste of energy, and co-operation should therefore be
informed by science which should consequently penetrate every
nook and cranny of human life. Even our views on health
and on happiness, the moral and the matrimonial relations, the
nurture and the education of the young, the methods of work-
manship and trading, our social affairs and politics, our arts
and our relations to near neighbours and distant peoples as
well as to domestic and wild animals, our thought and our
inner life— all should be clarified and guided by considerations
drawn from a highly developed methodology, if they are not
to remain in perpetuity emblematical of confusion and of
twilight.

We ought hence to assume that the scientific mode of think-
ing is a slowly developing product of pan-human civilisation,
and that with the passing of the ages, and as the result of
mountains of experience, man gradually discovers how to

l*

4 PRELIMINARY CONSIDERATIONS.

employ his understanding most effectively.1 It appears, there-
fore, right and proper to reject the narrowly individualistic
conception of human nature and human reason, which traces
the origin of leading methodological concepts to the superior
minds of a few distinguished thinkers, and to posit the liberat-
ing and the perfecting of the human intelligence through pan-
humanly developed methods of thought. Our great men, we
shall see, are first and foremost historic milestones; they con-
veniently, ably, and enthusiastically summarise for us the larger
and more definite results of an epoch in a specific direction.

II.— THE UNITY OF NATURE AND OF LIFE.

§ 2. The nineteenth century established in the minds of men
the concept of the uniformity of nature. No longer, therefore,
can it be asserted, without calling forth emphatic and almost
universal protest, that objects alter their nature indifferently,
or that there are countless occult forces whose activities make
reliance on experiment fatally precarious.2 Men affirm now
boldly, and in the very act of affirming they lay the foundations
of science, that given a certain cause a certain effect will
invariably follow under certain defined natural conditions.

It will be the privilege of the twentieth century to lodge in
the human mind the notion of the unity of nature. The concept
is yet far from having been generally assimilated. There are
not a few men who consider that action at a distance should
be assumed as a simple fact, and that it savours of metaphysics
to seek for the proto-element or stuff out of which the chemical
elements have possibly been formed. Others not only doubt
whether we shall ever know intimately the stellar regions or
the world of atoms, but they discern a break between non-

1 See § 73 for a historical analysis.

'2 "Pendant des siecles, les hommes ont cru que meme ies mineraux
n'etaient pas regis par des lois definies, mais pouvaient prendre toutes les
formes et toutes les proprietes possibles pourvu qu'une volonte suffisamment
puissante s'y appliquat. On croyait que certaines formules ou certains gestes
avaient la vertu de transformer un corps brut en un etre vivant, un homme
en un animal ou une plante, et inversement." (E. Durkheirn, in De la rne-
thode dans les sciences, 1910, p. 308.)

"In the 17th century Alexander Ross, commenting on Sir Thomas Browne's
doubt as to whether mice may be bred by putrefaction, flays his antagonist
in the following words: 'So may we doubt whether in cheese and timber
worms are generated, or if beetles and wasps in cow-dung, or if butterflies,
locusts, shell-fish, snails, eels, and such like, be procreated of putrefied
matter, which is to receive the form of that creature to which it is by forma-
tive power disposed. To question this is to question reason, sense, and ex-
perience. If he doubts this, let him go to Egypt, and there he will find the

PRELIMINARY CONSIDERATIONS. 5

living and living substance, between animals and man, and
most especially between mind and matter. And widely, pre-
valent is the view which insists upon the ultimate mystery and
inexplicability of the Universe.

Such a non possumus attitude acts as a relentless brake on
the man of science, since at every stride forward which he
desires to make there are voices warning him that it would
be presumptuous to strive to pierce to the depths or to attempt
to connect what is separated by an impassable gulf. Theo-
retically such an attitude may not only appear plausible, but
seems even to reflect the cautious scientific thinker in oppo-
sition to the reckless amateur; yet, once such a principle is
granted, the scope of science might be caused to shrink to a
mathematical point. Fortunately, men of science have possessed
a splendid and sturdy faith which has been amply justified by
results, and consequently the hypercautious counsellors and
critics are doomed to be disappointed.1

fields swarming with the mice begot of the mud of Nylus, to the great calamity
of the inhabitants.' " (W. A. Locy, Biology and its Makers, 1908, p. 278.)
Shakespeare's lines on the bee reflect the fanciful science of his day:

"Cant. True: therefore doth heaven divide

The state of man in divers functions,

Setting endeavour in continual motion;

To which is fixed, as an aim or butt,

Obedience: for so work the honey-bees;

Creatures that by a rule in nature teach

The act of order to a peopled kingdom.

They have a king, and officers of sorts:

Where some, like magistrates, correct at home,

Others, like merchants, venture trade abroad;

Others, like soldiers, armed in their stings,

Make boot upon the summer's velvet buds;

Which pillage they with merry march bring home

To the tent-royal of their emperor:

Who, busied in his majesty, surveys

The singing masons building roofs of gold;

The civil citizens kneading up the honey;

The poor mechanic porters crowding in

Their heavy burdens at his narrow gate;

The sad-eyed justice, with his surly hum,

Deliv'ring o'er to executors pale

The lazy yawning drone."

(King Henry V., Act 1, Scene 2.)

See also Studies in the History and Method of Science, ed. by Charles
Singer, 1917; and L. Thorndike, Natural Science in the Middle Ages, 1915.

1 "The character of the true philosopher is to hope all things not im-
possible, and to believe all things not unreasonable. He who has seen
obscurities which appeared impenetrable in physical and mathematical

6 PRELIMINARY CONSIDERATIONS.

One scientific division after another has been swept away
by the torrential stream of time. The theory of gravitation
furnished the first signal indication of the unity obtaining in
nature, and in recent days astro-physics and astro-chemistry
have further confirmed this. The doctrine of the conservation of
matter has been succeeded by the doctrine of the conservation
of energy. As a result of a series of discoveries ranging over
a century, we have recognised the feasibility of linking up most
of the main forces in nature — heat, light, electricity, magnetism,
and, possibly, chemical affinity. Thus, again, it has been shown
that by lowering sufficiently its temperature, every gas can be
ultimately reduced to a liquid and probably to a solid, and that,
therefore, we have grounds for believing that the three states
of matter — gaseous, liquid, and solid— are due to definite calo-
rific differences. Once more, the boasted barriers between the
elements are gradually being removed. If carbon can exist in
four different states ; if oxygen can possess an allotropic form ;
if the arrangement of the elements in order of their atomic
weights evidences such striking relations between them that the
discovery of new elements having certain properties can be
predicted ; and if elements are actually produced by the trans-
mutation of other elements, it almost betokens intellectual ob-
stinacy to doubt that the day is approaching when the simple
chemical substances known to us will be proved to be com-
pounds of one element or compound — perhaps of hydrogen,
perhaps of some lighter element yet unknown, who can tell?
Nor need we fear that the present-day telescope and microscope
have the last word to say in the exploration of the far-off
spaces and the more intimate structures of bodies.

In biology the advance has not been less real, for the evo-
lution* of plant and animal life is now acknowledged universally,
and it is even exceptional to-day for any scholar to suggest
that man has not developed from a lower form. The old notion
of a vital chemistry has lost most of its scientific supporters,
and the struggle rages at the moment only round the mode of
the genesis of life itself. Who can doubt where the victory
will lie, if history and cumulative evidence are trustworthy
guides? The compartment theory unfortunately still holds the

science suddenly dispelled, and the most barren and unpromising fields of
enquiry converted, as if by inspiration, into rich and inexhaustible springs
of knowledge and power on a simple change of our point of view, or by
merely bringing to bear on them some principle which it never occurred
before to try, will surely be the very last to acquiesce in any dispiriting
prospects of either the present or future destinies of mankind." (Sir John
Herschel, Discourse on the Study of Natural Philosophy, 1830, [5.].)

PRELIMINARY CONSIDERATIONS. 7

field in psychology. Signs are, however, not wanting that
feeling, intellect, and volition will at no very distant date be
demonstrated to be complexes rather than primordial facts;
that all the sensations will be proved to be resolvable into the
same fundamental fact as the just-mentioned triad; and that
psychology will be regarded as the science which treats of the
neural or mental processes employed in the endeavour to satisfy
the needs which arise out of the various connected systems of
-the organism and out of the relations of that organism to its
environment. Similarly, the pan-human origin of culture in-
volves that the polygenetic theory of human purposes and
actions is ill-founded, whilst the rise of the "scientific manage-
ment "-movement suggests that theoretical and practical activi-
ties will be eventually governed by a single and undivided
scientific methodology. Furthermore, Mach and others, the pre-
sent author included, have proposed reasons for surmising that
the idea of a rigid division between matter and mind may be
traceable to inadequate analysis, and that the two are perhaps
one, not as the materialist, idealist, or pantheist, suspects, but
in the sense that the alleged separateness, duality, or difference
is non-existent.

Sufficient has been advanced to suggest that the conception
of the unity of nature is no longer a gratuitous assumption
destitute of probability and proof, even though we are still
groping for an explanation of gravitation and its complement
cohesion, and even though we cannot yet indulge in dogmatic
utterances of any kind.

The bearing of the doctrine of the unity of nature on the
methodology of science is manifest, for just as there was practi-
cally no scope for a methodology when the uniformity of
nature was denied, so, in the absence of the doctrine of the
unity of nature, the methodologist is bound hand and foot.
Once, however, there is limitless freedom for the man of science,
the methodologist can ceaselessly reiterate his cardinal postu-
late, i.e., the advisability and necessity of advancing in the
boldest manner possible wherever a legitimate opportunity pre-
sents itself. The objective foundations, then, of the methodo-
logy of science are laid in the comprehensive twin doctrine of
the uniformity and unity of nature.

Now just as the uniformity of nature involves uniformity in
every department of existence without exception, so the unity
of nature carries with it the unity of all departments what-
soever. In other words, the unity of nature implies the unity
of outward nature as well as of life. This leads us far beyond

8 PRELIMINARY CONSIDERATIONS.

the confines of science as delimited by the founders of the
Royal Society. In those far-off days science signified natural
philosophy, and natural philosophy was content to explore the
realm of what we designate to-day as physics, including her
handmaiden, mathematics. Since that period the double term
natural philosophy has been transformed into the single term
science, and the connotation of the latter term has been rest-
lessly expanded. One physical science after another was added
to the few which first existed, while slowly, very slowly, the
biological sciences vindicated their right to be classed methodo-
logically with the physical sciences.

The royal domain of systematised knowledge hence assumed
vaster proportions. The wheel of progress did not, however,
come to a standstill when this stage had been reached. One
by one the cultural or specio-psychical sciences proved at least
their theoretical right to enter the charmed circle of the estab-
lished sciences. Economists led the way; psychologists and
sociologists followed ; and, in time, not one department of cul-
tural knowledge remained which could be justifiably regarded
as falling outside the coveted pale.

Even so, however, the domain of science had to be further
extended. From the very dawn of systematising, the line be-
tween pure and applied science had proved elusive, and accord-
ingly it was only to be anticipated that the expansion of
science should tend to the development of a series of more
or less avowed applied sciences. Indeed, one distinguished
man of science after another became responsible for important
scientific applications to departments of practice requiring the
same methods of enquiry as the so-called pure sciences. The
introduction of gas light, and afterwards of electric lighting,
heating, and motor power, was an instance in point, and so
were the inventions and discoveries due to the need for com-
munal sanitation and for the prevention of infectious diseases,,
and previous to that the application of astronomical truths and
of the compass to navigation, whilst the universal employment
of machinery arid scientific instruments furnished the case par
excellence. The desire for economy in industries, and also for
the utilisation of waste products and the improvement of agri-
culture, similarly issued in applied scientific activity of prime
value. Naturally, once science was found to be lucrative in
the economic world, it was more and more wooed. Manufac-
turing companies employed scientific staffs for the specific pur-
pose of deriving the fullest benefits from science applied to
their sphere of activity; natural substances — such as diamonds,

PRELIMINARY CONSIDERATIONS. 9

rubies, indigo, and rubber — were artificially produced; and
universities and technical schools, observing this, began to pay
increased, often excessive, attention to applied science and to
scientific preparation in every practical department. Moreover,
psychological tests of generic or specific efficiency were eagerly,
perhaps hastily, utilised by industrial and commercial enterprises.
Thus action and reaction between theoretical science, education,
and applied science continued until, as at the present day, the
three are closely welded together into an integral totality. If,
perchance, on the one hand, much remains still to be done
to apply science in the economic world, yet, on the other hand,
there exists here and there a deplorable tendency to neglect
in favour of this the no less fundamental, but more theoretical,
aspects.

Manifestly, there could be no restriction of applied science
to the economic life. Criminologists entered on extensive stu-
dies of the criminal, his environment, and the means of re-
forming or deterring him. Eugenists warmly interested them-
selves in the question of how to discourage the increase of
the tainted, and encourage the augmentation of the healthy,
"stocks" among men and, of course, among animals and plants.
Educators busied themselves with child study and psychology
in order to elevate the children in accordance with scientific
methods. Politicians, with a taste for science, examined the
psychology of the crowd or collective man. Hygienists sought
to discover the best diet, physical exercise, and clothing, and
generally the best methods of keeping the body supple and
strong, and, as mental hygienists, the best means of preserving
intellectual and moral sanity and virility. And, alas! mainly
for aggressive purposes, the armaments of the nations have
been, with the aid of science, prodigiously raised in destructive
power. It is, therefore, only a question of time that the whole
of practical existence— from the lowliest material needs to
our loftiest aspirations— will be moulded and illuminated by
scientific insight. We should, in fact, not forget that the uses,
application, production, quality, value, desire, liking, love,
enjoyment, and preference of phenomena — the utilisation of
things — are but certain aspects of the one Existence. (See
the Table of Primary Categories in Conclusion 3.)

Again. A great science has been evolving during the last
quarter of a century whose object it is to replace the tentative
rule-of-thumb methods obtaining in industry and commerce by
rigidly scientific ones. No longer are haphazard traditions and
shortsighted common sense to govern the modes of production

10 PRELIMINARY CONSIDERATIONS.

and distribution. Every type of process is to be exhaustively
studied in order that it might be reconstructed on scientific
principles, ensuring ideal economy in movements, speed, effort,
thought, and the like, and products of the highest quality.
(See Conclusion 10.) So thorough is this new movement that
it is likely not only to revolutionise industry and commerce,
but science itself, by standardising universal modes of proce-
dure of a startlingly exacting character.

Lastly. The major and minor arts, whose mission it is to
irradiate beauty and joy in the highest as in the humblest
spheres, must become part of the infinite empire of the one
all-enveloping and all-connecting science, with its single and
all-sufficient scientific method.

Accordingly, the unity of nature must be acknowledged to
embrace inanimate and animate existence, including human life
in its various aspects ; and a scientific methodology — itself
one and indivisible (Conclusion 2) — has therefore no bound-
aries of any kind. The only reservation to be made is that it
will be some time yet before the later and latest sciences will
be fully worthy of being classed among the "established"
sciences. Rome was not built in a day!1

Nor should we omit to notice the unity of the historic pro-
cess. Contrary to first impressions, we shall find, on closer
examination, that the expansion of the province of science is
also a natural one, the relative maturity of a lower or less
complicated branch of learning creating the possibility of the
formation of a slightly higher and more complicated branch of
learning. The fierce struggles for recognition by individual dis-
ciplines should be therefore regarded as virtual epiphenomena,
as being due primarily to the difficulty of settling the justice
of claims, no doubt aggravated by neither party adequately
appreciating the objective nature of the problem before them.

1 The attempt has been made to distinguish between science as that
which teaches us to know and art as that which teaches us to do. Medicine
is thus considered as an art in contradistinction to physiology which, is
described as a science. Yet to understand the normal and abnormal work-
ings of the organism, and how to prevent and destroy physiological dis-
equilibrium, assuredly involves identical methodological processes. The
scientific physician may, indeed, manifest a purely theoretical interest in
his labours; but even if his interest should be practical, this would merely
argue a special direction of scientific activity. The distinction, then, be-
tween a science and an art is, at least for the present and the future, me-
thodologically a dubious one, and refers to motive and object rather than
to mode of procedure. Science might be defined as primarily exact and
systematised knowledge as such, and true art as primarily exact and
systematised knowledge restricted to practical and idealistic ends.

PRELIMINARY CONSIDERATIONS. \\

The applicability of scientific procedure to life and mind has,
however, been called in question. M. Henri Bergson, in his
L'Evolution creatrice, reasons that science is powerless to in-
vestigate super-physical processes. His argument is based on
the contention that the object of the intellect is to promote
action, and that this action concerns itself with inanimate
matter. Hence, M. Bergson concludes, the triumphs of science
in physics, and its dismal failure in biology and sociology. In
criticism of this attitude the following doubts may be advanced.
If the object of the intellect were to promote action, action in
animals is in great measure, perhaps mainly, concerned with
themselves and with fellow animals; and, moreover, if science
has thus far accomplished much in physics and little in biology,
this is only to be anticipated considering the primitive sim-
plicity of the subject-matter in the first, and the staggering
complexity of the subject matter in the second, department of
knowledge. The alternative, to have recourse to intuition — a
.very nebulous term — in reaching the verities of life, is unsatis-
factory, in view of the fact that "intuition" has been so em-
ployed for ages, with fatuously trivial and contradictory results.
The unclouded intellect appears to us to have proved itself
equal to the study of any known subject, however complicated ;
only that we cannot hope to grasp the complex as rapidly as
the simple, nor to solve the most abstruse problems without
the aid of an advanced methodology. As an illustration of the
complexity of biological facts, consider the following case:

"Take, for example, those small capsules which are found in the kidneys
at the very summit, so to speak, of the problem of renal secretion. These
small bodies each occupy a space of less than two-thousandths of a cubic
millimetre. Within their interior they contain different kinds of blood-
vessels that represent the structures of greatest mechanical interest when
dealing with the circulatory system, omitting, of course, the heart. This
almost complete sample of the circulatory mechanism, itself formed of a
congeries of parts and unitary mechanisms, is enclosed by two or three
thousand cells of specific glandular function. Every one of these cells
again is a complex of mechanisms about which we cannot rightly think
until we reduce our conceptions to the level of molecular dimensions.
Enclosed, then, in this minute space, within a mass that weighs two
thousandths of a milligramme, lie quite a series of the problems in which
physiology is interested." (Opening Address by Prof. J. S. Macdonald.
President of the Physiology Section of the British Association, 1911.)

It is for this reason that, for instance, protein compounds
are exceedingly difficult to isolate and study, first, because of
their close resemblance to one another; secondly, because of
their complexity— e.g., the approximate formula for hemo-
globin is CiisHuaNivjOtisFeS*; and thirdly, because they

12 PRELIMINARY CONSIDERATIONS.

can only be built up by a series of complex transformations.
Even the specialisation common in science will be progressively
superseded, as more and more general facts of a scientific
order accumulate.

Men of science need not therefore be intimidated by the
suggestion that nature possesses no unity, or that the world
of life and mind can only be effectively explored by the in-
tuitionist.1

III.— THE METHODOLOGIST'S PROCEDURE.

§ 3. A modern methodology of science should be the out-
come of an analysis of modern scientific procedure at its best ;
and yet such an analysis is well-nigh impossible, since what
is offered to us in publications are final results which veil,
rather than disclose, the concrete movements of the mind. As
the analyst of Darwin's method states: "The scientist, after
establishing a conclusion to his own satisfaction, is not con-
cerned with telling other people how he reached it, but with
convincing them of its truth." (Frank Cramer, The Method of
Darwin, 1896, p. 22.) For this reason it might appear neces-
sary that the methodologist should be an adept in most sciences ;
but here, again, the task imposed is more than human. The
author has, therefore, chosen a third road which Condillac
already clearly perceived when he wrote: "Mais comment
apprendre a conduire ses sens? En faisant ce que nous avons
fait lorsque nous les avons bien conduits." That is, we cir-
cumspectly observe ourselves whilst we are occupied in think-
ing, take diligently note of the ratiocinative successes we score,
warily apply as universally as possible to subsequent thought
what we have learnt, and by dint of persistent examination
and experiment we discover and realise, to express it theo-
retically, the most effective methods of thinking.

Yet, at the threshold, an initial obstacle has to be surmounted,
for every-day thought is far from interesting, arduous, or
coherent. On this account the present author spent several
years in preparing a text-book of psychology based on ori-
ginal research,2 and engaged on other large and definite tasks,
in order to find opportunities for examining his mind when

1 "The biologist deals with a vast number of properties of objects, and
his inductions will not be completed, I fear, for ages to come; but when
they are, his science will be as deductive and as exact as the mathematics
themselves." (T. H. Huxley, Twelve Lectures and Essays, "The Educational
Value of the Natural History Sciences", ed. 1915, p. 14.)

- The Mind of Man, pp. 568, London, 1902.

PRELIMINARY CONSIDERATIONS. 13

systematically and strenuously at work, and so as to apply and
test the results of his studies.

Self-examination and self-training are, however, not likely
to be sufficiently far-reaching, because it is very probable that,
after every allowance has been made, peculiar grooves of
thought and blank ignorance have to be taken into account.
Accordingly, self-examination was supplemented by a study of
the great methodologists, by wading through libraries of books
on science, by perusing many of the works and the biographies
of the foremost thinkers of the race, by interviews, by visits
to laboratories, and, not least, by submitting successive drafts
of the typescript to competent scholars. In this way, it is
hoped, the personal equation was substantially rectified, and thus
a fair understanding reached of general scientific procedure.

When it is considered what diverse methods have been
applied through the ages in seeking to comprehend the world,
and also that modern psychologists are agreed that the process
of intellection presents no mystery, it will be conceded that
there is nothing monstrous or fantastic in the endeavour to
ascertain how man thinks at his best, and how to compress this
mode of thought into definite and utilisable statements.

IV.— THE METHODOLOGIST AS SCIENTIFIC DISCOVERER.

§ 4. Readers might be inclined to test the proposed me-
thodology by what its propagator has achieved thereby. They
might contend that if a scientific methodology is to help men
to assured and rapid advance in science, the methodologist,
inasmuch as he has found the pearl of great price, should sub-
stantiate this by his discoveries. Accordingly, the readers of
this treatise may be tempted to search in its pages for a long
chain of novel and epochal scientific truths.

The temptation to argue in this manner may appear warrant-
able at first sight; but further consideration will, we hope to
show, evince its unreasonableness. The duty of the elaborator
of a scientific methodology is, plainly, to evolve a methodology,
not to exploit it. From the very commencement of his attempt
to its consummation, he is ever groping his way, and slowly,
very slowly, assisting to create a relative cosmos where pre-
viously a relative chaos prevailed. Even if he could devote a
whole life-time to his enterprise, and was peculiarly fitted for
it, he would still require all the hours at his disposal to prevent
his methodology from being more imperfect than necessary.
He would be, therefore, obliged to publish his work long be-

14 PRELIMINARY CONSIDERATIONS.

fore he had truly completed it, and consequently he would
lack the time to apply his conclusions systematically in several
directions.

Moreover, this Methodology does not profess to furnish a
method whereby large numbers of important truths can be
arrived at by one individual ; it rather suggests that the estab-
lishment of comprehensive generalisations and deductions is
the task of ages and the effect of systematic co-operation.
Its aim is as much to warn against individual over-confidence
as to point to correct methods. Its keynote being the unity of
knowledge and the necessity of being satisfied with incomplete
conclusions for prolonged periods, no one should expect to
discover in these pages an imperial mint for the wholesale
production of scientific truths.

Finally, theory and practice, analysis and synthesis, are not
identical. A good dramatic critic need not necessarily be a
good dramatist, nor does it follow as a matter of course that
a methodologist should be skilful in the application of scientific
methods. Indeed, the very absence of adroitness and the very
hesitancy in decision, not improbably provide the occasions
which reveal the manifold methodological factors involved in
scientific activity.

The object of the methodologist is to supply the most
finished instrument of investigation he is capable of devising;
but the extensive employment of this instrument he must leave
to others who have not had the disadvantage of consecrating
a long life to its laborious construction and even more laborious
multiple revision. If, therefore, in the succeeding pages, most
of the profound observations are not original, and most of the
original observations are not profound, it is hoped that the
reader will regard this as inevitable, as in the nature of things,
and not as reflecting unfavourably on the endeavour to place be-
fore the world a comparatively ambitious work on methodology.1

1 See, however, the author's The Mind of Man and his The Distinctive
Nature of Man (shortly to be published), for an attempted application of
the methodological viewpoint urged in these pages.

BOOK I.

THEORY.

PART I.
THE PROBLEM.

SECTION I.— ABSOLUTISM AND RELATIVISM IN METHODO-
LOGY.

§ 5. The unity of the world of fact does not strike the ordi-
nary observer, because for his purposes a world divided and
subdivided into many independent parts and compartments is a
more profitable conception. Slight variations, border instances,
minute, remote, and invisible objects, as well as slow trans-
formations, escape him. Such being the case, it was natural
that the pioneer logicians of the West should have unsuspect-
ingly assumed that the ordinary spectator's point of view is
the correct one, and that they should have consequently taken
for granted the existence of the world of common sense, that
is, of a world composed of isolated objects and isolated classes
of objects with features too plain to be overlooked. This mode
of apprehending facts supplied a rigid criterion for the pro-
cesses of reasoning, and hence followed the absolutist character
of the older logic. A trait of this kind, since it appeared to
ensure certainty, was, reasonably enough, cherished beyond
anything else in the armoury of logic.

Francis Bacon, although he ardently expressed his belief in
"progressive stages of certainty", only fitfully applied this
pregnant conception of his. The notion of the correlation and
unity of the natural forces and -of phenomena generally, or of
the ultimate relations and reducibility of the elements, did not
suggest itself to him. It is true that he boldly sought for the
"simple natures" of things,1 and that nothing less than the
discovery of these would satisfy him ; but it was simple natures—
heaviness, malleability, fixity, fluidity, colour, etc., which he
was bent on discovering, not simple nature, nor did he appar-
ently suspect that the molecular world was the world of master
facts, and that this world could only be approached with the
greatest difficulty, if at all. For this reason he, like Aristotle,
believed in the molar and compartment theory of the world
and of the mind, and to this is partly attributable his exagge-
rated opinion as to what a perfected scientific method might

1 Francis Bacon frequently employs the term Form, and he offers as
equivalents of this term nature, law, simple nature, specific difference, true
definition, etc. By Form he almost certainly means what in modern ter-
minology is called Natural Law. (Novum Organum, bk. 2, 3.)

18 PART I.— THE PROBLEM.

accomplish if applied by even one adept. Had he divined the
interdependent unity of nature, as the latest science is increas-
ingly forcing it on our attention, he would have certainly
admitted that the most admirable of methods should allow for
progressive stages of certainty as regards conclusions, and for
an organic and historic development of the structure of know-
ledge from the simple to the complex. He would have there-
fore emphatically repudiated the idea of remaining reconciled
for a time to probable or incomplete results — e.g., to X-rays,
cathode-rays, and Lenard-rays,1 whose precise nature is as yet
a mystery, or to accessory food factors such as fat-soluble A,
water-soluble #, and the anti-scorbutic factor, where the func-
tions are only partially known and the chemical nature not at all.
It was this same laudable craving for certainty which obscured
for Descartes the practical value of the inductive method, and
which prevailed on him to exert his genius to the fullest
measure in order to elaborate a system of knowledge which
should remorselessly exclude all uncertainty. On this account,
he made in his Regulae a highly ingenious attempt — by accen-
tuating intuitional truth, and coupling this with a stern deduc-
tive procedure where every movement is rigorously checked—
to comprehend the Universe without an appeal to general
experience. Descartes was even jealous of the reasoning pro-
cess, and hence he proposed to fuse, through repeated attempts,
the links of a reasoning process, till it became one and
intuitional in character.- From the point of view of the
end aimed at, Descartes' attitude was irreproachable; only he
was unfortunately mistaken in his assumption that either the
reasoning process or the external world was composed of
discrete elements void of intricate and subtle interrelations. He
rightly distrusted reliance on the senses because of the evident
heterogeneity of what is presented to observation ; but he failed
to appreciate that words, being but symbols, are even more
elusive than facts, and that the most trifling slip in a com-
plicated train of reasoning may throw us altogether off the
track, whilst no amount of foresight can prevent such slips
from occurring where facts are not appealed to unceasingly.1^

1 The X-rays are now practically identified with the gamma-rays of the
radio-active substances, and much is known concerning them, and the
cathode-rays are now said to consist of streams of negatively charged particles
or electrons.

2 On the above, see the Regulae; also Boyce Gibson on these in Mind.

3 Leibniz drew up rules referring to probable knowledge. His second
rule in his L'art de bien raisonner reads: "When it does not seem possible
to attain to certainty, one must content oneself with probability." (Couturat,
La logique de Leibnitz.) The following formal rules of his specially refer
to this type of knowledge: "(1) Distinguish degrees of probability. (2) A
conclusion is never more probable than the principle from which it is
deduced. (3) When a conclusion is deduced from several principles which
are only probable, the conclusion is less probable than any of those prin-
ciples." (Ibid., p. 180.)

SECTION 1.— ABSOLUTISM AND RELATIVISM IN METHODOLOGY. 19

John Stuart Mill, though an empiricist in philosophy, was
nevertheless, like his distinguished predecessors, an absolutist
in logic. He set little store by approximate generalisations,
and looked on them as definite though incomplete; his identi-
fication of inductive with causal investigations was apparently
due to his desire of disposing of something once for all; his
canons demanded proofs as unerring as those of the syllogism;
and his repeated use of letters of the alphabet to symbolise
the various unknown factors in a problem, illustrated how over-
simple was his conception of the Universe. The methodological
guidance he proposes is consequently only applicable in the
main to the concluding stages of an enquiry when bewilder-
ment has ceased and the principal facts are established and
classified.

Sheer indefinable probability, a groping one's way in the
dark, a chaos growing gradually less confused, a thinker feebly
illuminating a humble corner here and there or slightly intensify-
ing the light; in other words, the plastic form of the actual
process of concrete enquiry had not impressed itself upon the
older logicians. They were concerned with final products, not
with complicated and elusive facts; nor did they treat of hypo-
theses, generalisations, and certainties of an unfolding and
progressive character. Even where, as in Laplace's theory, pro-
bability was postulated, it was of a calculable character, and
not of the undefined quality which almost invariably attaches
to investigations as they develop under the hands of genera-
tions of men of science, as say in the progressive discovery of
the nature of flame, in the slow determination of the principal
causes of meteorological changes, in the gradual localisation of
the sensory and motor areas in the brain, in the involved
unravelling of the problem of heredity, or in the step-by-step
ascertainment of the nature of a perfect diet. Likewise in our
new century there are few savants who adequately recognise
that the most learned treatise written on any subject to-day is
bound to be comparatively crude because of its dependence on
other treatises which are being or will be written, e.g., a trea-
tise on what education should be depends, among other develop-
ments, on a perfected science of hygiene, psychology, ethics,
aesthetics, and technology, and on something like unexcep-
tionable physical, economic, intellectual, political, and moral
conditions in society as a whole. This interdependence is notice-
able throughout the groups of sciences, beginning with the
least dependent and terminating with the most dependent-
elementary mathematics, mechanics, ethereology, chemistry,
crystallography, biology, psychology, and the cultural or specio-
psychical sciences,1 there being "scarcely any natural pheno-
menon which can be fully and completely explained in all its

1 For a classification of the sciences, see Conclusion 33.

20 PART I.— THE PROBLEM.

circumstances, without a union of several perhaps of all, the
sciences" (Sir John Herschel, Discourse, [183.]), a sentiment
which the eminent physicist Lord Kelvin endorses by saying :
"All the properties of matter are so closely connected that we
can scarcely imagine one thoroughly explained, without our
seeing its relation to all the others, without, in fact, having the
explanation of all." (The Constitution of Matter, 1901, p. 240.)
The common experience of one science dividing into a number
of others is a further verification of the above contention: "By
a law whose necessity is evident, each branch of the scientific-
system gradually separates from the trunk when it has de-
veloped far enough to admit of separate cultivation." (Auguste
Comte, The Fundamental Principles of the Positive Philosophy,
ed. 1905, p. 31.)

Some logicians have also thought that only instinct, sagacity,
imagination, and other alleged unanalysable mental qualities
can be advantageously utilised in the process of scientific
enquiry. As opposed to this view, i. e., that scientific ability is
an indeterminate X, and science itself necessarily absolute, we
shall endeavour to show in the sequel that an art of reasoning
relating to greater or smaller probabilities of an imperfectly
calculable character has developed through the ages, and may
be abstracted from the present practice of men of science.
Some writers on logic (Bosanquet, in his Logic, and Creighton,
in his Introductory Logic) argue that the reasoning process
presents a developing unity ; and it is to be hoped that logicians
generally will recognise that progressive stages of proof and of
certainty deserve to be circumstantially treated in works on logic.

Psychologists have spoken of the psychologist's fallacy. One
might with equal justice speak of the logician's fallacy. The
final product of a process of reasoning stated in formal terms
has been mistaken for the expression of the concrete process
itself, and reasoning in formal terms and modes has been
assumed as the only mode of reasoning. Logic is, however,
a progressive science, as we shall see. (Section VI.) In pro-
portion as convention favours the utilisation or the neglect
of hypotheses, so men accustom themselves to the one or the
other; as generalising is or is not encouraged, or as abstract
or concrete, dignified or petty interests prevail, so men adjust
their thoughts in conformity with the social trend; and when
reliance on books or on imaginative treatment rules, when it
is the fashion to think with or without aids, formally or in-
formally, the scientific mass mind faithfully reflects each of
these trends. This being the case, it may be conjectured, with
some degree of certainty, that the average individual of the
somewhat distant future — as the eventual result of the discovery
and the assimilation by the masses of mankind of the modes
of thought which time has ripened, and which the modern
scientist at his best applies when engaged in expert investi-

SECTION 1.— ABSOLUTISM AND RELATIVISM IN METHODOLOGY. 21

gations — will possess a general power of analysis and synthesis,
a general capacity of bringing to light what is concealed and
correctly extracting the variety of implications of a fact or
a statement, which has heretofore only existed among distin-
guished men of science when they dealt with particular prob-
lems familiar to them. Unfortunately, the subject of the
education of man is too gigantic to be approached within the
narrow limits of this treatise, and we have therefore largely
restricted ourselves to an analysis of the mental process em-
ployed in scientific discovery.

We may, however, add that the primitive chaotic conception
of the world, as pictured by the fetichist and afterwards by
the polytheist, and even by a Lucretius, is being more and
more reduced to order by science — as witness the gravitational
and astronomical conception of the Universe; the geological,
meteorological, geographical, cartographical, racial, and political
conception of the earth; our knowledge of the atmosphere, its
constituents, and its movements; the general facts of inorganic
and organic chemistry; the theories of the evolution of worlds
and of living forms; the insight gained into the static and
dynamic nature of the cell; the ascertained anatomy and physio-
logy of the members of the vegetable and animal kingdoms;
the knowledge of man's story and nature gained through archeo-
logy and scientific history ; the tolerable comprehension of the
furniture of man's mind and the stages of his life; the wonderful
instruments which are at the disposal of captains of industry
and men of science; the enlightenment traceable to the aid
rendered by mathematics and geometry and the systematisation
of sense knowledge; the internationalisation of ethical, political,
economic, and scientific methods; the development of universal
rules of conduct; and the spread of taste and of refinement — and
that, with the ages, it will become increasingly easy to grasp
and comprehend the world of facts. Thus in time the main
forces and uniformities in nature will be discovered and syste-
matised, and man's outer and inner life more or less completely
understood and ordered. Hence absolutist doctrines and de-
ductive methods of a severely mathematical character will, in
the course of time, become more and more applicable, until,
on the advent of the mythic stage, when the world formula
has been evolved and the ultra-microscopic and ultra-telescopic
facts of nature have been revealed in their pristine simplicity
and hammered together into a series of facts or into one fact
by inter-planetary co-operation, Descartes' fascinating dream
of intuitively apprehending the Universe will be actualised. On
the present age rests the humbler and more prosaic task of
promoting a general comprehension of the mental processes
involved in the best contemporary scientific practice, and of
urging the reasoned application of the fruits of such an endeavour
to all spheres of possible investigation and activity. An abso-

22 PART I.— THE PROBLEM.

lutist methodology will therefore become practicable only in
the remote future, when the present state of knowledge will
have been almost infinitely transcended, that is, when most of
the leading facts of physics, biology, and specio-physics, will
have been ascertained and correlated into a closely-knit science
of the cosmos or cosmology.

In the succeeding four Sections we shall discuss the scientific
acumen to be anticipated from individuals who are not deliber-
ately trained in accordance with methodological canons faith-
fully abstracted from modern scientific procedure at its best.

SECTION II.— THE INFANT AND CHILD MIND.1

§ 6. Men often smile at the extravagant conclusions reached
by children (as when a child who has heard that a driver, arriv-
ing from a certain village, is called Leonard, inquires whether
all drivers hailing from that locality bear this name); yet a
circumspect study of infant life throws some light on the prob-
lems of methodology.

We need not touch here on inherited aptitudes, or on the
learning, without imitation, of certain movements (such as
carrying the fingers to the mouth), nor the interesting stages
when by degrees concerted action ensues between pairs of
eyes and limbs, or collaboration develops between the several
senses. To enter into these genetic problems would lead us
too far afield.

The first concept of interest to us which the child acquires
is that of "things". The eyes supply the infant with its in-
formation about the world beyond the finger tips, but this only
when objects move, omitting here strong light and glaring
colours which fascinate rather than teach anything. Hence
when the child watches a curtain moved by the wind, an ani-
mated face, a figure passing by, the waving branches of trees,
the inrushing tide, it gradually singles out the moving object
from the motionless surroundings. Only motion, on our part,
or on the part of a portion of our environment, appears to
yield the individuality and separateness whfeh adults associate
with things.

At first, objects which pass .out of sight or out of the
grasp have passed out of existence for the child; but diverse
experiences teach him that out of sight is only out of mind.
The first truths learnt, then, by the infant are that objects
exist and persist; and, in an unreasoned way, no doubt, he
becomes convinced that all things exist and persist for ever
in the precise form in which he has sensed them.

The next stage is an equally important one. Motion has
unlocked the secret of things, and now stationary objects, first

1 See under Child in the Index of the author's The Mind of Man.

SECTION 2. -THE INFANT AND CHILD MIND. 23

small ones and then large ones, are, to begin with, recognised
and then freely distinguished. A pencil, a glove, a hat, a chair,
a table; a little later a door, a wardrobe; and later still, a
house, a street, are separated with astonishing ease by the
eye.1 Yet the word table, for instance, is not interpreted by
the child to mean: "This something, seen at this moment from
this angle." Rather will the child identify as a table any table
at any time, or even anything resembling a table. Thus san-
dals, slippers, shoes, and boots are shoes; all round objects
are balls ; every glass vessel is a glass. Given one object seen
and named, the child readily regards it as representing a class.
The reason for this tendency to generalise is probably as
follows. The child's glance is only arrested by the leading
features of the object, and he observes it therefore most in-
completely. Hence size, colour, variations in shape, position,
and the like, are very imperfectly apprehended, and the general
and particular are thus readily confounded. When, therefore,
an object appears a second time, or a similar object presents
itself, vague memory followed on loose observation will identify
what is more or less heterogeneous. Secondly, even so far as
differences are appreciated, they are nevertheless neglected
because not deemed of importance, or, to express this more
objectively, because only the known and that which interests
fall within the focus. For the child Generalisation signifies
psychologically that a certain object — or what is for him the
same, a certain class of objects — having been once singled out
will, because of the neural mechanism or the laws of asso-
ciation, be automatically isolated when it reappears.

The infant is practically incapable of associating one object
of one class with another of a different class. His griefs and
his joys are unaffected by any recollections or reflections, since
» these are lacking, and reasoning, which implies cross-classi-
I fication of memories or associated recollection, is therefore
absent. A time, however, arrives when — after the invaluable
repetitive stage of earlier childhood has passed where every
action tends to be repeated a number of times — the association
of memories and ideas becomes possible, especially with the
aid of language. When this happens, random, though not
frequent, generalisations as to relations and classes of facts
follow in the wake of the similarly random, but frequent, gene-
ralisations as to separate facts. Until much later, when his
store of knowledge has assumed considerable proportions, the
child's interest is predominantly concerned with facts rather
than with classes of these.

1 The sense of touch, as a channel of external information, apparently
develops relatively late in the infant life of the individual. Besides, this
sense supplies only an infinitesimal portion of our knowledge of the Uni-
verse, and its high philosophical status is not easily vindicated before the
bar of fact.

24 PART I.— THE PROBLEM.

If the child's method of attacking problems developed from
within, his world of ideas might automatically grow to be or-
ganised and compact on approaching adulthood. As a matter
of fact, however, the modes of mental reaction beyond the
early animal stage are furnished by the cultural environment,
and hence, after the Rubicon of infancy is passed, his discrimi-
nations and classifications reflect in a rudimentary form this
environment which, as we shall see in the next Section, has
hitherto normally occupied a low scientific plane. That is to
say, since the cultural environment varies indefinitely in space
and time, and since methodical thinking is as yet socially un-
organised, we may expect children to develop a perplexing
number of markedly ineffective ways of approaching the every-
day problems of life. This we actually observe to be the case.
According to the opportunities afforded, and the conditions of
the social environment, we note in the young the profoundest
cultural divergences — some are grossly ignorant, others are ex-
cellently informed ; some are stupid, others are brilliant; some
are credulous to a degree, others judiciously discriminate.
Especially if our survey be historical and geographical, do we
discern prodigious and capricious deviations in intellection,
moral insight, taste, and practical ability, manifestly determined
by cultural and not by hereditary factors. We are therefore
prepared to find that since the great majority of children
receive but a poor educational equipment, and live under any-
thing but ideal cultural conditions, they should exhibit as a
class a very modest methodological status. Following the child
from infancy to adolescence, we are thus struck with his essen-
tial dependence culturally on human advance as a whole, on
the constitution of his social environment, and on the nature
of his personal circumstances.

We note, therefore, in the child two characteristics: (a) the
development of the chief elements in the growth of thought—
the impulse to know, apprehension of objects, observation, gene-
ralisation, imagination, reasoning, judgment, and, above all, pro-
fiting by the inventions and discoveries of others, and (6) the
absence of anything resembling the circumspection, comprehen-
siveness, and systematic procedure of scientific method, except
in so far as highly efficient methodological teaching and training-
are provided.

We will enquire now to what extent, intellectually, the ordi-
nary scientifically untrained adult differs from the child whose
offspring he is.

SECTION III.— THE SCIENTIFICALLY UNTRAINED ADULT.

§ 7. Prior to the formation of mental associations connected
with events in his life, the child does not deliberate. In the
course of growing older, however, he gains an enormous stock

SECTION 3.— THE SCIENTIFICALLY UNTRAINED ADULT. 25

of memories, and the possible number of associations becomes
therefore limitless. Consequently, especially with the priceless
aid of language, the process of deliberating, of reflecting, of
reasoning, steadily develops with experience and with guidance,
and in this particular respect there is, accordingly, a notable
distinction between the younger child and the average adult.
Still, the deviation, if we omit the earliest stages, is much less
clear between adult and child so far as the processes of in-
tellection are concerned, for, although the half-trained adult
will neither mistake the almonds on a cake for pebbles nor
assert that the chair is naughty, his cogitations only very
remotely suggest modern scientific procedure at its best.

The average man to-day labours under peculiar disadvantages
from which the man of science is exempt. The latter does not
grudge the expenditure of the time and energy requisite for
solving a problem, and, what is more, if no tangible solution
is forthcoming, as in Faraday's attempt to detect a relation
between gravity and other natural forces, he merely postpones
or abandons the search for an explanation. The average man,
on the contrary, is compelled to settle every day numerous
problems, and he is, therefore, little perturbed when any of
his ordinary solutions prove partially or wholly erroneous.

To generalise is a matter of mental economy both in practi-
cal life and in science, and in practical life economy is of such
moment that probability quickly reached is more prized than
certainty attained as the reward of protracted labours. The
average adult, no doubt, generalises excessively; but, on the
other hand, mere cautiousness is of doubtful positive value.
In certain strata of society "I think", "It appears to me",
"I don't know", are expressions in constant use. Precipitate
generalising is avoided here; but mechanical caution neither
dispels error nor extends the horizon of knowledge. In the
keen struggle for existence much must be staked, and indeci-
sion will not feed, clothe, house, or enlighten mankind.

Consider an instance of every-day problems. The train by
which a person travels to town has been occasionally late.
That person, if he desired to be precise in recording the fact,
would need to state the number of times the train has or has
not been late; the dates, the hours of the day, and any special
circumstances which might account for the tardy arrival of the
trains. Rather than conduct such an elaborate investigation,
he would prefer to proffer no statement at all, and yet a purely
negative attitude on all dubious points would tend towards a
mental standstill. Aware of these obstacles, we are satisfied
in daily life with probabilities, and we seldom strive to attain
to even approximate certainty. What, then, is the current
measure of the degree of probability? The question is em-
barrassing. Not a few individuals universalise in an extra-
vagant manner. If, for instance, a train chances to be late,

26 PART I.— THE PROBLEM.

the remark is made that all trains on the line in question are
late in arriving, or, more forcibly, that there is always some-
thing amiss with trains. A single act stamps a man as good
or bad, and an isolated transaction determines whether a
tradesman is a desirable person to have dealings with or not.
Similarly, manners, political parties, and religions— other than
our own — are freely condemned on the basis of one or a few in-
stances, whereas one or a few picked illustrations are presumed
to demonstrate the superiority of our manners, political party, and
religion. Likewise there is no argument so shallow or unsub-
stantial which is not often regarded by numbers of men as con-
clusive when it is, say, a matter of defending class interests or
inventing an excuse for declaring war.1

In the absence of a discriminating public standard of pro-
bability it is hazardous to pass judgment on the average man
for indulging in precipitate statements. After all, the Universe
is not a multiverse. To-day closely resembles yesterday, and
to-morrow will not differ much from to-day. The general facts
of nature do not sensibly vary during brief periods ; towns, parks,
streets, houses, remain virtually the same from week to week ;
the number and the appearance of the folk we encounter in
our district from day to day remain approximately alike; and
our acquaintances apparently possess a permanent character.
Moreover, largely because we are trained to ignore everything
which is not palpable, obvious, or usable, the marvellous
development of plants and animals from shapeless and dimi-
nutive zygotes into astonishingly varied forms ; the links which
closely connect the most diverse living types ; the world of
causes which is almost invariably the region of the microscopic
and ultra-microscopic; and objects relatively distant in space
and time, fall outside the focus of common apprehension and
interest. Nor does fortuitous experience teach a man much,
for an undisciplined and confused memory, multitudinous pre-
judices, and rambling cogitations re-reduce the complex to the
simple, and mask the deeper truths. The method of thought
whereby he ordinarily proceeds, the average man opines, is
applicable everywhere. Besides, because of the intricacy of
most problems, it is difficult to prove to him that he is
mistaken, and even if he be convicted of a defect in his
reasoning, he will readily discover specious explanations to
reassure himself. Thus, if a man of ill repute happens to be
drowned when swimming at the seaside, it is regarded by
many as a divine punishment; if a man of good repute is
drowned under analogous circumstances, the deity is said to
have need of him. If unemployment increases in the country,

1 The World War, happily ended with the defeat of the principal aggressor,
painfully illustrates the last point. Austria's pretext for attacking Serbia,
Germany's for declaring war on Belgium, Russia, and France, and Bulgaria's
excuse for breaking with its neighbour, Serbia, are apt examples.

SECTION 3.— THE SCIENTIFICALLY UNTRAINED ADULT. 27

the Opposition attributes it to the incompetence of the Govern-
ment, whilst Ministers of State ascribe it to the disturbing effect
on the market of the unwarrantable and partisan criticisms of
the Opposition.

However, prejudice is immensely heightened by a mental
process the presence of which is habituaHy unsuspected,
namely, the psychological fact, to be discussed in Conclusion 7,
that only that which appeals to us tends to be recalled. For
this reason, the Musulman, the Jew, and the Christian; the Con-
servative, the Liberal, and the Socialist; the aristocrat, the
bourgeois, and the operative; the artist, the captain of industry,
and the man of the world, are each very often supremely con-
fident in their views. The opponent's contention, because of
the working of the psychic mechanism, has no justification for
them, and hence they feel immovably certain that their case
is strong, and that of their antagonist weak. In one limited
sphere alone the average man reasons scientifically, or nearly
so, namely in his avocation, where a knowledge of many of
the relevant facts and traditional methods resulting from dearly-
bought experience, frequently prevent slipshod observation,
reasoning, and generalisation. Since, however, he is not con-
scious1 of the peculiarity of the method which he applies in
his avocation, this method is of no assistance to him in any
other department of life, especially because occasions vary
and divergent situations require relatively divergent treatment.
Nevertheless, even here, as the efficiency movement is daily
demonstrating, a multitude of blighting prejudices seriously
debases the value of his thought.

The average individual of to-day is not only hampered by
ignorance, bias, and narrow sympathies; he generally lacks
the determinate and desirable qualities which efficient training
provides. When confronted with a perplexing problem, he just
stares at it, loses heart, or seeks to overcome it by attempts
ascribable to the most fugitive suggestions ; when he discovers
two or three trivial points, he deems that he has discovered
everything relevant ; when an unfamiliar theory is propounded,
he thinks of some, more or less plausible objection, and decides
at once that this disposes of the theory ; every novel suggestion
relating to practice he stigmatises as unpractical or as contrary
to human nature; when a solution does not quickly present
itself, he conjectures that no solution is possible ; he confounds
mere plausibility with sheer truth; each ephemeral symptom
he regards as an independent and fundamental fact, overlooking
thus what is really of moment and far-reaching; he believes
that if he only waits, the truth will automatically sail into
view ; he despairs of there being any truth at all in the matter ;

1 An analysis of the nature of habit will be found in the author's The
Mind of Man, Ch. 3.

28 PART L-THE PROBLEM.

he is not concerned about finding the truth; he hesitates and
vacillates ; he is unmethodical ; he occupies his time in brooding
and speculating, in grumbling or fumbling; he does not attack
the problem with sufficient energy; he has not learnt to con-
struct or to follow a lengthy train of reasoning; he jumps to
conclusions ; he is without resource ; he is not sufficiently
cautious; memory plays him false, and he forgets much; he
takes no accurate notes, nor does he make sure of his facts;
and so on, and so on.1

Every competent observer will corroborate the statement
that average persons exhibit some or many of the defects
above mentioned, defects which bring into relief the need of a
methodology. It is evident, then, that thinking in conformity
with scientific standards is most rare among the scientifically
untrained, and it is at least a problem worth examining whether
proper methodological training, which is now curiously con-
spicuous by its absence, would not mend matters materially,
if not radically. It is difficult to see why defects such as those
enumerated in the preceding paragraph could not be eradicated,
and the corresponding desirable qualities firmly implanted.
Indeed, it is as unreasonable to anticipate that the untrained
thinker will be equal to the task of thinking effectively as that
he will not become expert in this direction when adequately
trained. The very growth to an illimitable extent of scientific
methods affords further presumptive evidence in favour of the
assumption that methodological thinking is a socio-historic and
pan-human product.

Let us now study the man who is "scientifically" trained,
in order to enable us to determine what distinguishes him from
the scientifically untrained adult.

SECTION IV.— THE SCIENTIFICALLY TRAINED INDIVIDUAL.

§ 8. The theory and the practice of the sciences are com-
monly assimilated by the student in the course of practical
scientific work and reading. He surmises that his teachers
proceed in certain ways, and imperceptibly he glides into those
ways himself. Hence, since the material of the sciences differs
notably in respect of composition and complexity, and since
the stages in their development also diverge widely, it is not
to be expected that the traditionally determined pursuit of some
particular science will unlock the secret of the general scientific
method. In some sciences, as in physiology, the facts are
relatively complicated, whilst in others, as in molar mechanics,
they are comparatively simple, and likewise the advanced stage

1 Corresponding defects, equally due to absence of right habits, account
for imperfect morals. The individual is as dependent here on inventions
and discoveries as in engineering or chemistry.

SECTION 4.— THE SCIENTIFICALLY TRAINED INDIVIDUAL. 29

of a science, owing to the presence of sifted facts and ex-
planations, may allow of ready and speedy generalisation and
deduction, whereas at the birth of a science the initial ignorance
may compel exhaustive enquiries and tediously slow advance.
Compare in this respect medieval alchemy with twentieth cen-
tury chemistry. So, too, the application of experiment, of de-
duction, of mathematical formula, of comparative or genetic
methods, depends on the subject matter and on the stage of
development of any science. As a consequence, when the
botanist, for example, turns to politics or to religion, one gene-
rally observes that there is no noteworthy distinction between
the precariousness of his judgments and those of the typical
politician or theologian. x Indeed, in his crude attempt to apply
in a generalised form the methods he employs in his highly
specialised science, he is not seldom grievously in error. Some
of the scientific light sheds no doubt a weak, phosphorescent
illumination over nearly his whole intellectual being ; but this is
of trifling account. The theory of teaching men to be scientific
in their general thought by bringing them into contact with some
particular science is, therefore, plausible, but nothing more.
The fallacy just referred to is interestingly illustrated by the
fortunes of psychology. In its earliest phases, and among the
ancients generally, it was allied to metaphysics. At a certain
point, as with Wolff and Kant, it became rational. When
scientific enquiries began to grow common, men thought, as in
England from the time of Hobbes to James Mill, that the method
of developing a science of the mind was to eschew transcen-
dental considerations and cultivate speculative introspection — to
which movement was due the associationist school. Herbart,
who was much impressed with the grandeur of the science of
physics and the value of mathematics, looked, in imitation of
the physicists, upon ideas as isolated mind atoms governed by
a law of levity, and endeavoured to explain the nature of the
human mind by valuating these ideas and their relations
mathematically. Fechner, following Weber, devoted himself to
experiment, and constructed the science of psycho-physics.
With Wundt psychology became predominantly physiological',
and to-day the tendency is to place the emphasis on the in-
stincts and on the emotional and volitional life generally, whilst
new schools are emerging stressing the psychology of the un-
conscious, the aspect of behaviour, and the native psychic powers
alleged to be revealed by psychological tests. Nor can we do
more than allude to the efforts to comprehend the mind through
the study of abnormal states, through the growth of mind in
the individual, in races, and in animal life, or through all these
combined. Whether a haven of rest has been reached by psy-

1 The absence of a general methodology explains how men of scientific
distinction are frequently found to be outrageously unscientific when passing
judgment on problems outside their domain.

30 PART I.— THE PROBLEM.

chologists, is more than questionable. Here we need only note
the almost insuperable obstacles, due to subject-matter and
stage of development which have to be encountered in trans-
ferring the traditional method of one science to another passing
through a different phase. Ordinarily this is facilitated through
one science imperceptibly developing out of a closely related
one; but where there is a comparatively abrupt commencement,
there, as in psychology and in the cultural sciences generally,
owing to the lack of a scientific method of a general character,
no manifest point of departure presents itself, and hence cen-
turies may be lost in groping for the method proper to the
new enquiry.

The same difficulty, having its origin in identical causes, is
encountered in every attempt to skip several historic stages,
and it is for this reason that the development of science has
been so schematic — from the simple to the complex — and that
uthe history of science presents us with no example of an
individual mind throwing itself far in advance of its contempo-
raries".1 (Brewster, Life of Newton, 1875, p. 112.) Mathematics,
dealing at first with concrete and then with idealised data,
came first. Then followed Astronomy (where only the most
general facts were and are taken into consideration), Molar
Mechanics2 (which is almost wholly a question of judiciously
defining the motions of visible masses of matter in space and
time), Ethereology (concerned often with imperceptible, but yet
relatively isolated, facts, such as gravity, heat, light, electricity,
magnetism, rays), Chemistry (where the combination of elements
introduces a new factor, complicated however by the existence
of inert elements refusing ttnsombine), Biology (which not only
treats of highly complex chemical compounds, but also of the
presence of intricate organic structures in the higher genera),
Psychology (which depends on introspection, on a high and
impartial standard of observation, and on a knowledge of the
organism's, the individual's, and the community's development
and needs), and the cultural sciences or specio-psy chics (which re-

1 Note that it is Newton's distinguished biographer who is responsible
for this statement.

2 "By far the most general phenomenon with which we are acquainted,
and that which occurs most constantly, in every enquiry into which we enter,
is motion, and its communication. Dynamics, then, or the science of force
and motion, is thus placed at the head of all the sciences; and, happily for
human knowledge, it is one in which the highest certainty is obtainablev
a certainty no way inferior to mathematical demonstration. As its axioms
are few, simple, and in the highest degree distinct and definite, so they have
at the same time an immediate relation to geometrical quantity, space, time,
and direction, and thus accommodate themselves with remarkable facility
to geometrical reasoning. Accordingly, their consequences may be pursued,
by arguments purely mathematical, to any extent, insomuch that the limit
of our knowledge of dynamics is determined only by that of pure mathe-
matics, which is the case in no other branch of physical science." (Sir John
Herschel, Discourse, [87.].)

SECTION 4.— THE SCIENTIFICALLY TRAINED INDIVIDUAL. 31

quire extensive physical, biological, and psychological knowledge
for their comprehension).1 Evidently a general science of pheno-
mena, or a philosophy, will remain an unrealisable hope until
most of the sciences are firmly established, and have ascertained
the majority of the most comprehensive truths in their respective
spheres, together with most of the principal verities common
to them.- At first sight our contention that scientific tradition
begins in confusion as to subject-matter and method, seems
belied by the clear line .of advance from the simple sciences to
the less simple ones which history chronicles. Further reflection,
however, attests that man has always attempted to grapple with
the subject-matter of most of the sciences, that is, that centuries
of effort have been wasted in those cases, e.g., in the biological
sciences, where the subject-matter investigated is of a laby-
rinthine order, and presupposes the existence of certain as yet
undeveloped sciences, e.g., chemistry. It is, therefore, an irre-
sistible conclusion that scientific advance is only possible from
the simple to the complex, that the complex will be erro-
neously interpreted so long as the less complex has not been
reduced to comparative simplicity, and that scientific advance
must . remain tiresomely slow until general scientific methods
have been discovered and are generally accepted, freeing the
individual from the trammels of empirical and misleading tradi-
tions and practices.

A fruitful definition of science can only be attempted when
we restrict ourselves to asking What does science mean in our
day? Broadly speaking, it signifies for us moderns the deve-
loping and connecting of certain departments of knowledge, such
as theoretical and applied physics, biology, specio-psychics, and
cosmology, and this by traditional methods far more circumspect
than the ones commonly employed in practical life to-day. In
its higher reaches it means further, as a rule, the endeavour to
obtain a simple, unified, and incontrovertible view of nature
and of life, through guarded and exhaustive observation, through
subsequent bold and graded generalisation, and through verified
deduction of the same type.3 When, therefore, we wax enthu-

1 For a history of the classification of the sciences, see R. Flint, Philosophy
as Scientia Scientiarum, and for a comprehensive scheme of classification,
Conclusion 33.

2 E.g., note the complete dependence on fact of the argument in Henri
Bergson's Donnees imm^diates. The neglect which overtakes philosophers
generally is primarily due to their reliance on crude observation and un-
sifted surmises.

3 "Experience presents to us a chaos of innumerable events, together and
in succession. In this chaos, science has first to ascertain the facts; then,
to ascertain 'what follows what', i.e., what facts are invariably connected
together; and then, to account for those regular connections, to show how
or why they are so connected." (S. H. Mellone, An Introductory Text-Book
of Logic, 1905, p. 291.) "A science is, in all cases, a systematic body of know-
ledge relating to some particular subject-matter." (James Welton, A Manual
of Logic, 1896, vol. 1, p. 10.)

32 PART J.—THE PROBLEM.

siastic about science, we have in mind chiefly the large results
achieved since the Renascence by the class of men conventionally
called men of science, and the ingenious methods employed by
them in research — use of instruments, experiment, and mathe-
matics. Perhaps in a thousand years' time men will understand
by science something as far outstripping in serviceableness
modern science as modern science outdistances the science of
Aristotle's and Averroes' days in this matter. There is no
occult quality inherent in the word science, for the laxest
magic and the severest inductive procedure occupy one rising
plane.1 Speculative or objective method, deductive or inductive
method, represent historic phases, all of which appear, and
even are, right at certain periods. Belief in dogma or rejection
of authority is also immaterial to the historical definition of
science. The one distinguishing feature of the method of science
observable historically is the progressive approximation to more
and more successful methods of systematically, definitely, and
convincingly establishing comprehensive uniformities.

For our own day we should draw a somewhat sharp distinction
between the world of science and the world of common sense.
This distinction is manifestly justified when we reflect that to-
day science aims primarily at theory and common sense pri-
marily at practice. Whereas, therefore, the scientist is absorbed
in understanding a microscopic section of existence, the layman
generally thinks of how to procure comforts and luxuries. For
this reason the layman perceives as a rule only the gross,
coarse-grained facts, and is frequently interested in these alone,
whilst his conclusions are crude ones, in harmony with his
narrow experience and his homely wants. The scientist, on
the other hand, esteems no effort too strenuous or too pro-
longed to achieve a slight advance in comprehending a small
part of nature. Therefore, as the one invents machinery in
order to augment wealth and render social life safe and tolerable
and co-operates with his fellows to this end, so the other,
joining with fellow-labourers, explores the rich mines of fact
by means of special instruments and the most patient syste-
matised thought. The one desires to possess the world; the
other to comprehend it. In the present age, therefore, com-
mon knowledge and scientific knowledge, the world of prac-
tice and the world of theory, tend too frequently to lie far
apart, with the significant exception of the applied sciences
and arts, scientific management of industry and commerce,

1 The following stages in the historical development of science may be
roughly discriminated: unconsciousness of problems; magic; fetichism ;
polytheism and philosophy; Greek, Roman, and Eastern science; theism;
Arab school; Aristotle revived; earlier and later renascence; seventeenth and
eighteenth century speculations, gropings, and advances; and the measurably
superior speculations, gropings, and advances, of the nineteenth and twentieth
centuries.

SECTION 4.— THE SCIENTIFICALLY TRAINED INDIVIDUAL. 33

and hygiene, where both meet.1 In the distant past this was
not the case, because science, strictly speaking, was as yet
scarcely developed; in the distant future this will be again
different, for the scientific method will be, as we have already
intimations to-day, a universal possession universally cherished
and applied. Practice will then fraternise with theory, and
theory be a close ally of practice. In essence, as we have
seen, the world of experience is one and undivided, developing
from wholly unsystematised and practical thought to wholly
systematised and theoretico-practical cogitation.

More than two generations ago Comte proposed a solution of the problem
of how far the man of science should subordinate his researches to the
needs of practice. We present the solution in his own words, only premising
that the needs of applied science, and those of industrial and commercial
activities generally, increasingly demand the initiation of theoretical
researches; that in not a few cases it has been found practicable to pass
backwards and forwards from theoretical to applied sciences and arts;
and that, indeed, with the gradual subjugation of many scientific and
practical spheres, a compendious theoretico-practical treatment will be
effected with facility, and therefore grow common. "Immense as are the
services rendered to Industry by Science, and although according to the
striking aphorism of Bacon — Knowledge is Power, we must never forget
that the Sciences have a yet higher and more direct destination, that of
satisfying the craving of our minds to know the laws of phenomena. . . .
The general tendency of our time is, in this respect, defective and narrow.
But, in the case of scientists, it is corrected, consciously or not, by the
strong natural craving of which I have spoken. Otherwise the human
intellect would be confined to researches of immediate practical utility,
and, as Condorcet very justly remarked, would for that reason alone be
completely arrested in its progress. This would be the case even as regards
those practical applications to which we should have imprudently sacrificed
the purely theoretical labours ; for the most important practical appli-
cations are constantly derived from theories formed for purely scientific
purposes, and which have often been cultivated during many centuries
without producing any practical result. ... It is, therefore, evident, that,
after the study of nature has been conceived in a general way as serving
for the rational basis of our action upon it, we must next proceed to
theoretical researches, leaving wholly on one side every practical con-
sideration. Our means for discovering truth are so feeble that if we do
not concentrate them exclusively upon this object, and if we hamper our
search for truth with the extraneous condition that it shall have some

1 Theory owes already much to practice. "Pour preciser par quelques
exemples les grands apports etrangers aux sciences naturelles qui les ont in-
sensiblement creees ou periodiquement bouleversees, ^numerous rapidement
et pele-mele les sacrifices religieux de victimes ani males et 1'examen de leurs
visceres, les voyages commerciaux des Egyptiens et des Pheniciens, les jeux
du cirque dans la Rome imp6riale, la decouverte de rAmerique et les ex-
plorations ulterieures, la combinaison de lentilles qui fit' le microscope, la
pose des cables transatlantiques qui conduisit aux grands dragages abyssaux,
les recherches de Pasteur que les besoins de la brasserie amenerent par des
etudes de chimie a transformer la biologic et la medecine." (Fr6de>ic Houssay,
Nature et sciences naturelles, about 1903, pp. 1-2.)

Thus chemistry had its origin in the desire for adornments, for fermented
liquors, for dyes, and other useful articles, for medicines, and for transforming
ordinary substances into gold. (See also Conclusion 32.)

34 PART I— THE PROBLEM.

immediate practical utility, it would be almost always impossible for us
to succeed."1 (The Fundamental Principles of the Positive Philosophy,
ed. 1905, pp. 44-45.)

Under present circumstances the scientifically and unscienti-
fically trained adult agree in being g,uided by tradition, only
that in the former instance the method customarily employed
is immensely superior. In the true sense, the scientifically
trained adult will only come into being when a tried methodology
introduces the student to the meaning and methods of science.

There is no valid reason why deliberate methodological train-
ing should be postponed to the distant future. Far easier than
semi-conscious conjecturing and interpreting of supposed methods
on the basis of a medley of half-sifted facts and fancies, would
it be for students to be deliberately educated in conformity,
say, with the thirty-six Conclusions contained in Book II of
this volume. By a combined theoretical and practical study
(see Conclusions 8 to 10) the learner would in this manner
arrive at being tolerably proficient in reading the secrets of
nature and of life. If we imagine every teacher fairly trained
in this respect at his or her college, it is to be presumed that
the general instruction, work, and life of the school (and, it is
hoped, of the home) may become permeated with at least the
elements of the scientific spirit, especially if we note that the
world about the child offers boundless opportunities for pur-
poseful, methodical, and exact observation, generalisation, and
theoretical and practical deduction. What is true of the child
is a fortiori truer still of the adolescent and of the young men
and women of university age. It is most desirable therefore
that the introduction of this more excellent way of acquiring
scientific skill should not be indefinitely postponed. Men of
science should be surely the last in the world to insist on
continuing a tradition for no better reason than that it exists.

SECTION V.— THE MAN OF GENIUS, AND THOUGHT AS HABIT-
CONTROLLED AND AS A PAN-HUMAN PRODUCT.

I.— THOUGHT AS HABIT-CONTROLLED.

§ 9. The super-chemistry of thought is more easily conceived
in the abstract than concretely analysed. Stimulated by in-
stincts and consequent desires, human thought enters the scene,
and is primarily dependent for efficiency on a more or less
complete and correlated memory. Yet, singularly enough, with
all its perfection there is scarcely anything more imperfect
than the human memory. First we note that our consciousness
is almost like a sieve, for most of our sensations no sooner

1 Comte's view was manifestly correct as far as the stage of scientific
development of his day was concerned. To-day already his reasoning is
only partially justified, and in the course of time it will become obsolete.
On the subject generally consult Conclusion 2B.

SECTION 5.— THE MAN OF GENIUS. 35

present themselves than they bow themselves out of existence.
What remains, after the sieving process, is the merest fraction
of that which has been perceived, or what has passed through
our mind. Add to this, a rapidly fading memory which progres-
sively obliterates most recollections of a few years' standing, and
plays such havoc with the residue that where there were images
full of colour and definiteness, the barest elusive half-shadow
survives, and our difficulties will be appreciated. Then there
is the fact that memories become frequently confused, mis-
leading, transmuted, and that they more often than not refuse
to appear when they are summoned. The Dreyfus trial in
France, a generation ago, afforded a striking object lesson in
regard to the short and erratic career of memories.

However, it is not only that the memory is inherently an
imperfect instrument, but the teleological or economic factor in
mental life acts as a powerful disintegrating agent. Consider
the case of a child who has learnt to write, and study the
adaptations which follow as a consequence:—

When his studies commenced, he learnt that he must hold the pen in
a certain position if he wished to write with ease, that the arm should
not be placed as the reinless fancy prompted, and the like. He knew,
broadly speaking, why he did things and how he did them. This know-
ledge of the how and the why of the process was doqmed from the be-
ginning. Gradually losing his interest in writing as such, having no longer
any need to refer to that knowledge, and being eager to acquire other
habits, he slowly forgets the how and the why. At first there was a
bond of time and order : now all ties are gone. He cannot tell relationship,
time, or succession. Each point is recollected independently of every
other point. He cannot even indicate the what, though he knows what
to do. The what has departed as a notion, and exists as a remembered
act. As the child progressed there was no need to recollect the what,
the how, the why, or any other system of relationships, and so these are
forgotten. We detect here no substituted, transformed, or added con-
stituent, only certain once existing factors have been removed. All that
could be dispensed with has been cast aside.

Again :

If we are considerably interested in one thing, we cannot spare much
interest for another thing at the same time. Thus there is a constant
tendency for thoughts, as with animals in congested areas, to drive each
other out of existence.

Suppose a man thinks that it would be best to dismiss certain im-
practicable thoughts immediately they occur, by turning his attention into
other channels. An opportunity arrives, he remembers his resolution, and
carries it into effect. After a period of practice the resolution is forgotten
or not referred to; but whenever anything impracticable suggests itself he
dismisses it immediately. The resolution forms now no link between the
objectionable thought and the act of dismissal. As that thought appears,
so it is thrust back. There may be, after a time, entire ignorance that
certain thoughts are dismissed. The man may, e.g., either deny that such
is the fact, or he may give some plausible, but inaccurate explanation.1

Imagine now this process to begin from infancy, and to be
carried up and on through life, afid it will be evident that human
thought is essentially irrational, except at a very few points

1 G. Spiller, The Mind of Man. pp. 96, 95, 116.

36 PART I— THE PROBLEM.

where the irrationality is less marked. Naturally, too, as we
advance in age and grow in wisdom we become more and more
irrational, since we employ more and more aids and means
whose intent eventually escapes us wholly or in great measure.
Habit grows out of habit until wre find a vast congeries of
habits, practically each modified by each in a composite direction
difficult to detect. Moreover, the irrationality is magnified,
because unpremeditated and piecemeal adaptations play, apart
even from feelings and sentiments, a conspicuous part in the
process of mental growth.

The conclusion is, accordingly, inevitable that an absolutist
and atomist logic is impossible, for the reason that the human
mind is relativist and organic in structure. Our memory is
radically faulty, and our many urging desires add to the dis-
order by annihilating almost everything of an explanatory or
rational nature. Normally we do not act, therefore, in con-
formity with reason; but in agreement with character, i.e., in
accordance with a mass of more or less interconnected habits.

II.— THOUGHT AS A PAN-HUMAN PRODUCT.

§ 10. Were this all, we might conceivably recover most of
the threads which connect our mental life at every stage, by
preserving faithful and complete accounts of what happens to
a particular human being from infancy to maturity. In this
way we should ultimately recognise the raison d'etre of thought
and understand ourselves. Yet, granted that we could reduce
to calculable terms our instincts and our emotions, and granted
that we could follow the super-chemistry of thought in the in-
fant and the young child, we should not really have advanced
far, for thought is inter-individual and inter-social, and develops
through the ages, from primitive times forward. Our imaginary
observer would be obliged therefore not only to follow the life
of one individual, but the life of the whole of humanity from
ape-hood upwards, and he would notice that each generation
transmits to its successor a bulkier and further metamorphosed
bundle of habits — in the form of records, traditions, customs,
and manners — even more irrational or incomplete than those
passed on by one moment to another in the history of the indi-
vidual.

III.— THE MAN OF GENIUS.

§ 11. If towering geniuses existed who revolutionise the
whole world of thought in their time, as the popular imagination
is fond of surmising, much might be effected to re-form the
trend of life on the high plane of reason by learning how their
mind functions. Such geniuses, however, belong to the realm
of fables.1 The fancy evolves these by attributing to them, on

1 For one of many examples of the deep indebtedness of our leading
thinkers, see "A Commemoration of Auguste Comte", by H. Gordon Jones,

SECTION 5.— THE MAN OF GENIUS. 37

the one hand, the work of generations, and by ignoring, on the
other hand, the virtually infinite mass of human reason which
obtains outside their sphere of activity. Men are very small
indeed, compared to Man. Myriads of so-called men of genius
could not have advanced us as far as plodding humanity has
actually done. It would be, therefore, idle to hope much from
a study of genius, for the roots of knowledge do not lie there.
The very vocabulary which the man of genius must employ
almost completely dominates and controls his thought, for therein
are embodied innumerable discriminations and the generalisations
accumulated by mankind, both as regards objects and methods,
positively binding him as to the broad road which he is to tread.
Consequently, for example, such terms as Conception, Obser-
vation, Comparison, Abstraction, Generalisation, Definition, are
accepted by thinkers from the past, and are interpreted primarily
according to traditional conventions. To learn these terms con-
scientiously by heart will no more lead to the appropriate actions
than the committing to memory of any series of undeciphered
hieroglyphics. And when we proceed a step farther and define
what we mean, say, by Observing, we effect this with the help
of other symbolic terms, which equally await interpretation by
a fresh set of terms, and so on ad ind6fimtum. We are con-
strained hence to assume that; the words we employ reflect
certain actions or states, and, given an imperfect memory, the
difficulty of correct interpretation becomes evident, especially
when we remember that from generation to generation actions
and states not only vary sensibly, but often conspicuously, to
the extent of acquiring a wholly different and even contrary
purport and connotation. The growth of languages admirably
illustrates this profound socio-historic influence on thought,
determined as this growth is by new discoveries, inventions,
ways, experiences, errors, and prepossessions. And inasmuch
as the task is principally humanity's and not that of any indi-
vidual, it follows that the man of alleged genius is also a crea-
ture of habit, and is almost completely dependent for proficiency
in thinking on the scientific methods very gradually discovered
by the race.1

in the Positivist Review, Sept. 1st, 1913, where it is shoVn that Comte's
fundamental conceptions were not, strictly speaking, his own. Comte illus-
trates in this respect the rule. For a detailed refutation of the genius
theory see the present author's forthcoming work, The Distinctive Nature
of Man.

"The popular mind spares itself effort by crediting the house to the man
who lays the last tile and allowing his co-workers to drop out of view. . . .
The resolving of human achievement into contributions of tens of thousands
innovating individuals has, therefore, little in common with the theory of
progress which gives the glory to a few Great Men." (E. A. Ross, Foundations
of Sociology, 1905, pp. 227-228.)

1 Numerous illustrations in support of our contention in regard to tin-
true place of the man of genius will be ^ound scattered throughout this
volume. (See Index, under Genius.)

38 PART I.— THE PROBLEM.

IV.— CONCLUSION.

§ 12. Seeing that the struggle for existence among ideas in
individuals and generations tends to eliminate everything that
is superfluous in thought and conduct, all that is merely ex-
planatory is of necessity forgotten, especially having regard to
the imperfection of our memory. Consequently the individual
cannot possibly think rationally or in accordance with absolutist
standards. Since, moreover, culture is a pan-human and pro-
gressive product, and its assimilation is mostly determined by
capricious circumstances, we readily understand the egregious
blunders of the child and the haphazard generalisations and ex-
planations of the scientifically untrained adult. Nay more, we
discern now that though the modern student of science is guided
no doubt by more efficacious rules for the conduct of particular
enquiries, these rules, if we take into consideration the whole
sphere of thought, resemble oases in an illimitable desert, or
tiny islands in the ocean. For this reason also those who are
most distinguished are under the heaviest obligation to the
methodological legacy of the ages. Correct and methodical
thinking of a general character implies manifestly a special pro-
cedure which no intelligence can adequately apply, save on the
basis of an appropriate methodology which has been scienti-
fically abstracted from the most successful practice of men of
science, which practice is itself the outcome of mankind's growing
and clarifying experience.

A scientific methodology is therefore a sine qua non for rapid
progress. At the same time, since it is not a question of applying
new or rare mental powers in methodology any more than, say,
in machine construction, there is no reason why such a theory
of efficiency, pedagogically inculcated, should present in the
process of acquisition more obstacles than the many obscure
and unconnected rules which precariously pilot men's cogitations
in our age. Hence a high level of average thinking should
follow a completer systematisation of contemporary scientific
methods of enquiry.

We shall conclude Part I by tracing, agreeably to the rela-
tivist conception verified in the preceding five Sections, the
historic process of methodological theory as crystallised in the
works of the historically most prominent methodologists.

SECTION VI.— THE PROGRESS OF METHODOLOGICAL

THEORY.

§ 13. The gem of untold value in Aristotle's Organon is
undoubtedly his syllogism. The naming of its several parts,
its figures and moods, together with the establishment of the
nature of a good definition and a proper classification, the
determination of kinds of causes and of categories, an exposure

SECTIONS.— THE PROGRESS OF METHODOLOGICAL THEORY. 39

of fallacies1, and analogous sections, practically shrink into
insignificance before the syllogism itself. Here we are offered
a formal and infallible method of testing, a proposition, or at
least certain propositions, and this represents, therefore, a
discovery fraught with the utmost consequence in the realm
of ratiocination. Nor is there a doubt that Aristotle's syllogism
has entered the very marrow of social thought, and that even
his uncompromising opponents are deeply indebted to him. It
must be said also that many sophisms would never appear
plausible if men applied the syllogism more generally.

The syllogism constitutes a formal method of testing the
soundness of a statement by showing how it necessarily follows
from certain accepted premises ; it does not represent the whole
of the reasoning process. Not only does it disregard the fact
that all but the rarest conclusions deal with probability and
not with certainty ; but unless employed as a merely mechanical
test of the reasoning process, it is meaningless. If any one had
greeted a neighbour of Socrates with "All men are mortal, Socra-
tes is a man, Therefore Socrates is mortal!" this neighbour
would have been at once concerned about the questioner's
sanity. He would have protested: "Have I asked you whether
all men are mortal, or had you any reason to believe that I
was interested in man's mortality?" and he might have added:
"Why should there be a reference to Socrates; why do you
draw a conclusion; and why should you have launched the
three sentences at n%y head at all ? " Even the proposer of the
above syllogism would meet it with an uneasy note of inter-
rogation if it welled up in his mind a propos of nothing in
particular. Manifestly, the syllogism presupposes the desire to
know whether Socrates is mortal, and this desire arises again
out of an extensive succession of interrelated and mostly
undetermined situations which cannot be reduced to a chain of
syllogisms, as will be evident from the arguments advanced in
the preceding Section. When we further consider, also in con-
sonance with the last Section, that knowledge is commonly
acquired in a fortuitous fashion, and that habits and the associa-
tive processes provide many short routes to a conclusion, it
should be readily granted that the syllogism does not reflect
the normal process of reflective thought. In pure reason, seeing
a mushroom, I argue: "All mushrooms are good to eat; this
is a mushroom; therefore it is good to eat"; but, in practice,
I feel hungry, I chance to see a mushroom in the wood where
I am strolling, and, without thinking, I take it and eat it, as

1 The art of detecting fallacies is rendered almost superfluous when our
primary concern is with the facts underlying propositions. Under such con-
ditions terminological difficulties are reduced to a minimum. On the subject
of fallacies, Prof. Sidgwick's special work (Fallacies, London, 1883) may be
consulted with advantage. See also Mill's luminous and unconventional
exposition of the subject in Book 5 of his Logic.

40 PART I.— THE PROBLEM.

I have taken and eaten mushrooms on similar occasions. The
syllogism, in this particular instance, is altogether wanting. The
actual and the ideal. reasoning processes differ, therefore, fun-
damentally as a rule.

The specific value of the syllogism lies in its being a touchstone
for dogmatic statements. Where, however, statements are un-
dogmatic, its value is reduced almost to zero. If we said "It
is probable that all men are mortal ; Socrates is perhaps to be
classed as a man", we should be scarcely warranted to state
dogmatically more than that "there is an indeterminable pro-
bability that Socrates is mortal". It is true that we possess
relatively excellent reasons for believing that every human
being, born in any land on the earth, and at any period up to
some 120 years ago, has died, and that the men of the present
day and those of the comparatively near future are also eminently
likely to die; but dogmatically we are not entitled to state in
our age that mortality is a permanent attribute of every human
being as such.1 We are dealing here with a purely empirical
generalisation. Accordingly, it is not certain, as the school
syllogism appears to prove, . that Socrates is mortal, save by
arbitrarily assuming that all men are mortal. Even the leading
facts of gravitation and evolution have nothing absolute about
them when regarded in the light of the eternities, and the laws
of mathematics and of thought have had their alleged im-
mutable character challenged; and, besides, who knows what
the science of to-morrow will be able to accomplish in the
matter of extending man's term of life ?'2 From this it follows
that indifferent use can be made as yet of the syllogism as
an instrument of science, and this view is strengthened when

1 The most securely established generalisations in science frequently have
exceptions: "The presence of chlorophyll, which had always been associated
only with plant organisms, was detected by Max Schultze in 1851 in the ani-
mals Hydra and Vortex, and later on by Ray Lankester in Spongilla and by
Patrick Geddes in some Turbellarian worms." (Encycl. Britannica, llth edi-
tion, article "Parasitism", by P. C. Mitchell, p. 794.) And yet we must
remember that "in many cases where animals of some size have a green
colour and are apparently able to subsist on simple chemical substances,
this appearance has been shown to be due to the fact that their bodies are
the homes of multitudes of minute plants, which grow in them and give
them their colour by shining through the more or less transparent substance
of the body, but which sooner or later are digested by the animals in which
they live and serve as their food". (E. W. McBride, Zoology, 1911(?), p. 8.)

Again. "During the last ten years living larvae have been produced by
chemical agencies from the unfertilised eggs of sea-urchins, star-fish, holo-
thurians, and a number of annelids and molluscs." (Article by Jacques
Loeb on an "Experimental Study of the Influence of Environment on Animals",
in Darwin and Modern Science, ed. by A. C. Seward, 1909, p. 251.)

It should be remembered also that whilst some of the Ephemeridae live
only a few hours, certain species of trees have a life-span of several thousand
years. Nor should we forget that, barring accident, the protozoa are con-
sidered immortal, and that this is almost certainly true of the reproductive
germs.

2 E. Metchnikoff, The Prolongation of Life, 1910.

SECTION 6— THE PROGRESS OF METHODOLOGICAL THEORY. 41

we consider that the overwhelming majority of syllogisms in
books on logic are fatuously trivial, mostly confirming what no
one would ever think worthy of contesting.

Psychologically the syllogism may be said to depend on the
emergence of a doubt concerning the validity of a certain
plausible statement; on the consequent suggestion that this
doubt would be removed if the statement could be shown to be
involved in a more comprehensive and indubitable statement;
and, lastly, after reflection, on the more formal setting out of
the more comprehensive statement if any such can be found,
the middle or mediating statement, and, in the form of a con-
clusion, the statement to be proved. The process might be
expressed by some such reasoning: "You desired to have it
proved that Socrates is mortal. Well, then, if you are able to
agree that all men are mortal, and if you can further agree
that Socrates is a man, it will follow of necessity that Socrates,
being a man, is mortal. Here is, therefore, the proof which
you were solicitous to obtain." That is, by employing an in-
genious formula, we convert a confused into a clear thought.
To avoid that the syllogism should be question-begging, it might
formally run: ''Problem: Desired to prove that Socrates is
mortal. Proof: If (it be agreed that) all men are mortal, and
if (it be agreed that) Socrates is a man, then (it must be agreed
that) Socrates is mortal. The proposition that Socrates is mortal
is thus proved (for him who agrees to the two conditional
statements)."1 2

§ 14. In early days, when scarcely anything was known of
the vast world, and the vast world seemed very small and like
an open book or rather pamphlet," men demanded verbal clearness
and consistency in statements as tests which are readily appli-

1 A well known university professor writes to the author: "I seriously
believe that the slow progress of science is largely due to the deterioration
of the scientific powers of the young mind in this long enduring official
logic — oscillating between syllogistic platitudes and ingenious fallacy-hunting,
until all real interest in and inquiry into nature and life are lost sight of.
and the patient is ready to go on to the bar, or some kindred destination."

2 Before Mill, logic was almost universally identified with deductive or
syllogistic logic. "The rules of logic have nothing to do with the truth
or falsity of the premises, but merely teach us to decide (not whether the
premises are fairly laid down, but) whether the conclusion follows fairly
from the premises or not." (Whately, Elements of Logic, 1827, p. 210.) The
tendency is now to identify logic with the analysis of the nature of judgments.
"Logik ist Urteilslehre", says Windelband. (Logik, p. 189.) Algebraic or
symbolic logic does not concern us in this volume, inasmuch as according
to one of its exponents, "natural science is not immediately furthered by
the rules of the logical calculus". (A. T. Shearman, "Some Controverted
Points in Symbolic Logic", in Proceedings of the Aristotelian Society, 1905.
p. 99.) Earlier classics on the subject are: S.Boole, An Investigation of
the Laws of Thought, and De Morgan, Formal Logic. In Principia Mathe-
matica, Whitehead and Russell apply the logical calculus to mathematics.

3 To appreciate the remarkable contrast between pre-scientific naivete and
scientific profundity, let the reader compare John Ruskin's conception of the
origin of Alpine and English scenery in his Frondes Agrestes, with Lord

42 PART l.—THE PROBLEM.

cable under such inexacting conditions.1 When, however, the
immeasurable expanse and complexity of the Universe came to
be suspected, verbalism lost its hold, and men turned from words
to things, transferring the emphasis from proofs to methods of
discovery.- As an outcome of this advance we have Bacon's
Novum Organum, an attempt mainly to facilitate the collection
of flawless major premises. Unfortunately, Bacon, unlike Aris-
totle, never exhausted and systematised his central thought.
The multitude of his prerogatives constitute tricks of a trade,
not a systematic procedure, and the deadly denunciation of the
speculative method possesses after all only negative value.
Instead of a system, we find many excellent hints and one
example. From this example — the method employed in the
discovery of the nature of heat— we learn most. Bacon bids
us turn to the facts, and cease drawing conclusions from pro-
positions which have not been established inductively. He
insists that "all interpretation of nature commences with the
senses, and leads from the perceptions of the senses by a
straight, regular, and guarded path to the perceptions of the
understanding". (Novum Organum, bk. 2, 38.) Observation
should be virtually exhaustive in regard to variety, so far as
classes of relevant facts are concerned.8 We are to observe;
we are to move step by step, and not to aim directly at distant
conclusions; we are to watch for the presence of a quality
("Instances agreeing in the nature of heat") or its absence under
similar circumstances ("Instances in proximity where the nature
of heat is absent"); we are to examine the degree of the pre-
sence of a quality ("Table of degrees or comparison in heat");
we are systematically to exclude from the three preceding
collections what is immaterial to the issue ("Exclusion or re-
jection of natures from the form of heat"); and, finally, we
are to formulate a double conclusion, theoretical and practical
(First and Second Vintage). The purpose of science, on the

Avebury's The Scenery of Switzerland and The Scenery of England. The
pettiness of the former and the grandeur of the latter view well exemplify
what humanity has gained by an objective study of nature.

1 "Generalisations approximately true, or possessing a certain degree of
probability; hypotheses held loosely until verification is possible . . ., of
these Aristotle did not treat." (Naden, Induction and Deduction, p. 24.)

2 Modern logicians are reconciled to modern needs. "Applied logic", Lotze
tells us, "must . . . sacrifice the love of systematisation to considerations ot
utility, and select what the experience of science has so far shown to be
important and fruitful." (Logic, vol. 1, p. 11.)

"The mandate issued to the age of Plato and Aristotle was Bring your
beliefs into harmony with one another. . . . The mandate of the Mediaeval
Spirit was Bring your beliefs into harmony with dogma. . . . Then ... a new
spirit was roused, the mandate of which was, Bring your beliefs into har-
mony with facts." (W. Minto, Logic, Inductive and Deductive, 1893, p. 243.)
Arthur Lynch, in his Psychology: A New System, 1912, part 1, ch.2, deals
nt some length with modern scientific methods.

3 To this principle he remained faithful in the many investigations which
lie undertook.

SECTION 6. THE PROGRESS OF METHODOLOGICAL THEORY. 43

theoretical side, Bacon defines to be "the knowledge of causes
and secret motions of things" (New Atlantis)-, or as he expresses
this in another place: "the true and lawful goal of the sciences
is none other than this : that human life be endowed with new
discoveries and powers". (Novum Organum, bk. 1, 81.)

There is a popular proverb to the effect that "the proof
of the pudding lies in the eating", and one would be justified
in maintaining that the proof of a method lies in its results.
Now in the above example Bacon reaches the conclusion that
"heat is a motion, expansive, restrained, and acting in its strife
upon the smaller particles of bodies" (bk. 2, 20), and modern
science concurs that heat is a mode of motion, that it is ex-
pansive, and is concerned with the molecules of which bodies
are composed.1 All circumstances considered, this is an epoch-
making discovery. To arrive at this result Bacon examines
exhaustively classes of instances where heat appears as well
as the degree of the heat, and where it is absent under cir-
cumstances corresponding to those where heat is present. He
then excludes all factors not common to every instance of heat,
formulates a careful definition embodying the results obtained,
and draws certain deductions.

The virtue of this method is obvious. It involves a compre-
hensive and cautious general survey of the facts and a syste-
matic elimination of everything that is irrelevant to the matter
in hand — a proceeding which, if universally imitated, would
invalidate partially or wholly most of the conclusions reached
in the more strictly human sciences, and would materially en-
rich the established physical and biological sciences where, as
a rule, only prominent thinkers follow this direction. It is the
very opposite of the all too common practice of cursory obser-
vation, chance generalisation, and casual verification. Up to
the present this central method of Bacon's is the only one
which has striven to arrive at truth through a series of syn-
thetically connected links instead of through some jumpy, vague,
or disconnected mode of procedure, and may therefore be said
still to be without a peer or even rival. Granted that it is
only applicable to less obscure problems of a general character,
that it requires subsidiary aids as Bacon concedes,- and that
its rigour may be somewhat relaxed under relatively favourable
circumstances where many relevant facts are scientifically estab-
lished, there is still enormous scope for its use. The method
seems to be in place in the cultural sciences generally, and in
all others so far as the facts are open to inspection. Reluctance
lo be bound by exacting rules, convenience in following others

1 Compare John Tyndall, Heat as a Mode of Motion, 1887, and J. Clerk
Maxwell, Theory of Heat, 1894.

2 In his "histories" there is no clear indication of the employment of
subsidiary aids, and yet the presence of such aids is the ultimate criterion
of a complete methodology.

44 PART I.— THE PROBLEM.

sheepishly, an adventurous delight in entrusting the bark of
science to good fortune, and a desire of reaching conclusions
rapidly, may have much to do with the prevalent neglect of
consciously employing, even in part, Bacon's method-in-chief.
Methodologists, however, may in time return to it, seeing that
they, through John Stuart Mill's Canons, have adopted, almost
in its entirety, the skeleton of the method, only separating it
into independent parts and neglecting the subsequent processes
of exact definition of the comprehensive conclusion or state-
ment arrived at and the theoretical and practical deductions
which are to be drawn therefrom. Indirectly Bacon thus con-
tinues to hold the field, and the sole alternative to adopting
his comprehensive and synthetic method of investigation is to
substitute an equally comprehensive and synthetic method of
a more modern character. It is inconceivable that educated
men and women will much longer tolerate the farrago of
blurred and inarticulated half-rules which now passes under the
name of methodology. They will ask that we either return to
Bacon, or that we transcend him through a method even more
comprehensive than his. (See Conclusion 2 for such a method.)

As we have seen, exception could hardly be taken to the
example analysed by Bacon, were it not that it is only an
example, and that an example which is not succeeded by a
number of other examples and a series of conclusions, is liable
to be interpreted in more ways than one, and cannot illustrate
every possible case. The nature of observation, experimen-
tation, generalisation, definition, deduction, and the process of
forming hypotheses as well as the mode of verifying them, in
conjunction with sundry other matters, including the categories
into which phenomena can be profitably divided, should have
been determined as precisely as possible by Bacon; and pro-
bably if his life had not been abruptly terminated through ex-
cessive scientific zeal, and if he had not attempted to achieve
what is beyond the powers of an isolated individual, he might
have given his Novum Organum a systematic form.

Bacon, as we shall endeavour to show in the sequel, was sub-
stantially right in respect of the method of science. His numer-
ous allusions to experiments undertaken by himself in order to
verify some conjecture, demonstrate his respect for the ex-
perimental method, whilst his fierce attacks on the deductive
mode of enquiry are really directed against utilising propositions
which are not based on a study of facts and are not succeeded
by scrupulous verification. Even an uncompromising critic like
Miss Naden admits that "his error is not the rejection, but the
postponement, of deduction". (Induction and Deduction, p. 45.)

1 "My directions for the interpretation of nature embrace two generic
divisions: the one, how to educe and form axioms from experience; the
other, how to deduce and derive new experiments from axioms." (Novum
Organnm, bk. 2, 10.)

SECTION 6.— THE PROGRESS OF METHODOLOGICAL THEORY. 45

When we remember that Bacon wrote at the very dawn of
modern science, that the few experimenters of his day were
scarcely distinguishable in the swarm of alchemists, astrologers,
and magicians, and that even the terminology at his disposal
was unspeakably confusing, we shall not be surprised at his
numerous misapprehensions and the comparative crudity which
he displays. The admiration lavished by Herschel on Bacon
as the father of inductive logic is richly deserved: "It is to
our immortal countryman Bacon that we owe the broad an-
nouncement of this grand and fertile principle, and the develop-
ment of the idea, that the whole of natural philosophy consists
entirely of a series of inductive generalisations, commencing
with the most circumstantially stated particulars, and carried
up to universal laws, or axioms, which comprehend in their
statements every subordinate degree of generality, and of a
corresponding series of inverted reasoning from generals to
particulars, by which these axioms are traced back into their
remote consequences, and all particular propositions deduced
from them; as well those by whose immediate consideration
we rose to our discovery, as those of which we had no pre-
vious knowledge." (Discourse, [96.].) Here we shall leave Bacon.

§ 15. Reactions, if not inevitable, are common. Thus it is not sur-
prising that attempts should have been made to remove the laurel wreath
from Francis Bacon's brow and place it on Roger Bacon's. This method
of referring back systems of thought to some real or imaginary precursor
has its dangers, for the process permits of indefinite extension. Thus we
read concerning Roger Bacon: "Baco hatte seine philosophische Anregung
hauptsachlich aus den Arabern gescho'pft." (Karl Werner, Die Kosmologie
und allgemeine Naturlehre des Roger Baco, Vienna, 1879, p. 5.) Nor was
he inclined to be heretical in theology: "Bacon accepted the dominant
mediaeval convictions: the entire truth of scripture; the absolute validity
of the revealed religion, with its dogmatic formulation ; also (to his detri-
ment) the universally prevailing view that the end of all the sciences is
to serve their queen, theology." (H. O. Taylor, The Mediaeval Mind.
vol. 2, 1919, p. 515.) As for his ethics: "C'esf a Aristote surtout que sont
empruntees la plupart des idees de Bacon sur la vertu." (Emile Charles,
Roger Bacon, 1861, p. 257.) In respect of his Optics, this was "based
upon the great work of Alhazen" (J. H. Bridges, Life and Work of Roger
Bacon, 1914, p. 24); "Mathematics in Bacon's mind was little more than
astronomy" (D. E. Smith, in "On the place of Roger Bacon in the History
of Mathematics", in Roger Bacon, ed. by A. G. Little, 1914, p. 174); and
his experiments with burning glasses, etc., were repetitions of well-known
attempts. (A. G. Little, Part of the Opus Tertium of Roger Bacon, 1912,
p. xxxvii.) So also Charles informs us in the course of his erudite in-
vestigation that "la plupart des decouvertes de Bacon en optique ne sont
pas plus reelles que les precedentes" (op. cit., p. 302), that is, those re-
lating to bridges, gunpowder, and the like. And concerning his scientific
equipment we learn that Bacon was "trained in scientific method by
Grosseteste and other members of the English mathematical school".
(Bridges, op. cit., p. 24.) Indeed, nothing more fantastic and untrustworthy
can be imagined in our age, than the medieval science of Roger Bacon
borrowed from his contemporaries, as exemplified, for instance, in The
Mirror of Alchemy, etc., a translation of which treatises appeared in 1597;
in The Cure of Old Age and Preservation of Youth, ed. 1683 ; or in the
third part of Friedrich Roth-Scholtzen's Deutsches Theatrum Chemicum,
part 3, 1732.

46 PART I.— TEE PROBLEM.

Any such care on experiments as Francis Bacon bestows, appears to
be practically absent in Roger Bacon. His method was apparently urged
in self-defence of his views, rather than as an expression of his desire
to elaborate a methodology, and his conception of "experience" was,
because of his age, primitive in the extreme, and approached therefore
that of the scienceless "practical man" rather than that of the modern
savant. This appears to be borne out by Mr. Lynn Thorndike's Roger
Bacon and the Experimental Method in the Middle Ages : "The collection
of facts was another engrossing pursuit [of the Middle Ages], as the vo-
luminous mediaeval encyclopedias testify ; there was keen curiosity about
the things of this world." (P. 277.) "Bacon's discussion of experimental
science, on its positive side, amounts to little more than a recognition of
experience as a criterion of truth and promulgation of the phrase 'experi-
mental science'." (P. 283.) And Thorndike sums up: "On the whole, one
rather gets the impression that the experimental method that Bacon pleads
for, as if it were a novelty, is already assumed by other writers as a well-
established method." (P. 290.) Having stated so much in criticism, we
quote with pleasure a laudatory passage relating to Roger Bacon's con-
ception of method. Robert Adamson, in his Roger Bacon (Manchester.
1876, pp. 32-33) concludes: "So far as I can gather, the ideal natural phi-
losophy, according to Roger Bacon, consisted of the following steps :
(1) Application of mathematics to the determination of the simple laws
of force ; (2) observation and comparison of the complex phenomena of na-
ture; (3) deductive application of the elementary mathematical principles,
the laws of force, to the observed phenomena ; (4) experimental verifi-
cation of the results deductively obtained."

According to Charles, whose work is virtually exhaustive, Roger Bacon
recognised three ways of reaching truth — "1'autorite, qui ne peut produire
que la oi, et d'ailleurs doit se justifier aux yeux de la raison; le raison-
nement, dont les conclusions les plus certaines laissent a desirer, si on ne
les verifie pas; et enfin 1'experience, qui se suffit a elle-meme". (P. 112.)
The only passage Charles quotes from Roger Bacon refers to "1'autorite
indigne et fragile, 1'empire de la routine, la stupidite du vulgaire, 1'amour-
propre des savants, qui leur fait cacher leur ignorance sous 1'etalage d'une
science apparente" (p. 99); or in English: "the example of frail and un-
worthy authority, long-established custom, the sense of the ignorant crowd,
and the hiding of one's own ignorance under the shadow of wisdom".
(H. 0. Taylor, op. cit., p. 524.) In fact, Roger Bacon did not pass beyond
methodological generalities: "For rules of induction, even faintly analogous
to those of the Novum Organum, the student of the Opus Magnum will
seek in vain" (J. H. Bridges, op. cit., p. 160), a dictum which is by no
means invalidated by the numerous quotations in J.V.Marmery's Progress
of Science, 1895.

Perhaps the following passage from Roger Bacon approaches most nearly
the methodological spirit of modern times: "The true method of research,
says Bacon in the Compendium studii, 'is to study first what properly
conies first in any science, the easier before the more difficult, the general
before the particular, the less before the greater. The student's business
should lie in chosen and useful topics, because life is short; and these
should be set forth with clearness and certitude, which is impossible
without experientia. Because, although we know through three means,
authority, reason, and experentia, yet authority is not wise unless its reason
be given, nor does it give knowledge, but belief. We believe, but do not
know, from authority. Nor can reason distinguish sophistry from demon-
stration, unless we know that the conclusion is attested by facts. Yet the
fruits of study are insignificant at the present time, and the secret and
great matters of wisdom are unknown to the crowd of students.'" (H. O.
Taylor, op. cit., p. 538.)

To sum up, Roger Bacon may be considered to have been among the
advance guard of his time, as Francis Bacon was of his. The elaboration
of a sound methodology was scarcely feasible in Francis Bacon's day when

SECTION 6. THE PROGRESS OF METHODOLOGICAL THEORY. 47

the sun of science had just risen; it was altogether impossible in Roger
Bacon's period when pioneers were groping to escape from the pitch-dark-
night and superstition of the early Middle Ages. (See also J. E. Sandys,
Roger Bacon, 1914; and S. Vogl, Die Physik Roger Bacos, 1906.)

§ 16. Descartes' method tends to lure us away from out-
ward nature, and lays the stress on speculatively obtained pro-
positions or general principles. The great desideratum, accord-
ing to the illustrious French philosopher, is to possess clear
and distinct1 ideas, and to reject everything which does not
harmonise with these. Pursuing this method, we shall, he
assures us, discover the fundamentals of existence, and from
them all the other facts will be deducible. The vital step to
take is "to divest oneself of preconceptions and study propo-
sitions exhaustively and impartially, making as complete a sur-
vey of our material as possible, and simplifying our problems
to the uttermost. Induction is here the handmaid of deduction,
and the aim is to discover, right at the threshold, the highest
generalities, and utilise these for deductive ends. (Discourx
sur la methode, I, 19.) Leaving aside his solid contributions to
mathematics, Descartes' method has exerted but a feeble in-
fluence on scientific progress, for the sufficient reason that
terms such as Clear and Distinct, on which he places such
emphasis, do not admit of exact definition, that trains of
reasoning are even more dangerous to rely on than the per-
ceptions of the senses, and because he preferred reasoning from
speculative propositions rather than objective study, seeking in
this way to apply pre-scientific methods in a growingly scientific
age.'2 Just as Bacon for all intents and purposes first developed
to a high degree the inductive method and over-stressed it, so
Descartes was virtually the first to emphasise the signal value
of deductive and mathematical treatment without appreciating
their severe limitations. In connection both with Francis Bacon
and Descartes it may not be amiss to notice that methodology
formed their principal life-interest.

Bertrand Russell, in his Our Knowledge of the External World as a Field
for Scientific Method in Philosophy, 1914, appears to aim at reviving the
Descartian point of view: "The nature of philosophic analysis, as illustrated
in our previous lectures, can now be stated in general terms. We start
from a body of common knowledge, which constitutes our data. On
examination, the data are found to be complex, rather vague, and largely
interdependent logically. By analysis we reduce them to propositions
which are as nearly as possible simple and precise, and we arrange them
in deductive chains, in which a certain number of initial propositions
form a logical guarantee for all the rest. These initial propositions are
premisses for the body of knowledge in question. Premisses are thus
quite different from data — they are simpler, more precise, and less affected

1 Locke preferred "determinate or determined". (Essay on the Human
Understanding, Epistle to the Reader.)

- Jevons says in this connection: "Descartes and Leibniz sometimes
adopted hypothetical reasoning to the exclusion of experitnental verifica-
tion." (Principles of Science, p. 508.)

48 PART I.— THE PROBLEM.

with logical redundancy. If the work of analysis has been performed
completely, they will be wholly free from logical redundancy, wholly
precise, and as simple as is logically compatible with their leading to the
given body of knowledge. The discovery of these premisses belongs to
philosophy; but the work of deducing the body of common knowledge
from them belongs to mathematics, if 'mathematics' is interpreted in
a somewhat liberal sense." (P. 211.)

§ 17. The grandiose and historically recognised1 attempts
to unravel the problems of the scientific method have been
historically so few that we must pass at one bound to John
Stuart Mill, whose inductive logic is the first and, up to the
present, the last truly systematic attempt to deal with the
methodology of science, which has challenged the attention of
the modern world. That he has to some extent succeeded is
proven by the universal respect which his Logic still commands,
and by the fact that since his time books on logic pay at least
lip homage to inductive procedure. (See Conclusion 1.) From
the point of view of method, his cardinal achievement is no
doubt the list of scientific Canons which he compiled — the
methods of agreement, difference, agreement and difference,
residue, and concomitant variation. These Canons do not possess
the rigidity and completeness of the syllogism, and have there-
fore been much criticised ; but they form nevertheless a monu-
mental landmark in the history of methodology. They also
agree in intention with the syllogism in that their object is to
obtain indisputable proofs;2 and perhaps if all the Canons could
be applied, and were properly defined and respected, nothing
but what is rigidly true would be accepted.

Most of the praise bestowed on Mill's Canons should properly be trans-
ferred to Bacon who, it is persistently asserted, had no clear insight into
the method of science. Bacon's famous example of the investigation into
the nature of heat explicitly involves the Canons3, with the exception
of the admittedly least important joint method of agreement and difference,
which are now identified with Mill. The earlier methodologist formulates,
as we have seen, rules of affirmative and negative instances, of conco-
mitant variations and exclusions which, save for the immaterial exception
mentioned, are one with Mill's Canons; only Mill's Canons are more defi-
nitely conceived, though not articulated as those of Bacon are. On the
other hand, by ignoring the need, as pointed out by Bacon, for exhaustive

1 We say "historically recognised", for, e.gr., not a few would consider
Sir John Herschel's presentation of methodology in his Discourse as pro-
founder than that to be found in John Stuart Mill's Logic.

- "It is with proof, as such, that logic is principally concerned." (Mill,
Logic, bk. 3. ch. 9, § 6.) " The appropriate problem of logic [is] the esti-
mation of evidence." (Ibid., bk. 4, ch. 1, §1.) "The business of Inductive
Logic is to provide rules and models (such as the syllogism and its rules
are for ratiocination) to which, if inductive arguments conform, those argu-
ments are conclusive, and not otherwise." (Ibid., bk. 3, ch. 9, § 6.) Bain
(Logic, vol. 2, p. 49) largely agrees with this: "Proof, more than discovery, is
the end of logic."

3 "The principles on which [the Instances in Bacon] are arranged in Tables
bear a close analogy to the principles on which the Canons [of Mill] are
constructed." (Fowler, Logic, vol. 2, p. 211.)

SECTION 6.— THE PROGRESS OF METHODOLOGICAL THEORY. 49

examination and verification. Mill almost annihilated the virtues of his
Canons, and practically cut himself off from contact with actual scientific
work.

Moreover, a study of Herschel's brilliant Preliminary Discourse, fer-
vently admired by Charles Darwin, further reduces Mill's claims, for in
the rules suggested by this immediate forerunner of Mill, Mill's whole set
of Canons, with almost all its neatness, may be found approximately in
Mill's words. This i.s a beautiful illustration of our contention that truth
is progressive and represents a growing product of collective endeavour.
Mill, in his Autobiography, informs us that, "under the impulse given
me by the thoughts excited by Dr. Whewell, I read again Sir John Herschel's
Discourse on the Study of Natural Philosophy, and I was able to measure
the progress my mind had made, by the great help I now found in this
work". (Ch. 6.) Herschel [145.] submits the following "general rules for
guiding and facilitating our search, among a great mass of assembled facts",
for their common cause: "(1) Invariable connection, and, in particular,
invariable antecedence of the cause and consequence of the effect, unless
prevented by some counteracting cause. (2) Invariable negation of the
effect with absence of the cause, unless some other cause be capable of
producing the same effect. (3) Increase or diminution of the effect, with
the increased or diminished intensity of the cause, in cases which admit
of increase and diminution. (4) Proportionality of the effect to its cause
in all cases of direct unimpeded action. (5) Reversal of the effect with
that of the cause." In this chapter Herschel speaks of "Agreement",
'•Concomitant circumstances", and "Residual phenomena", and also judi-
ciously illustrates the Method of Difference. With his noted candour Mill
admits his debt to Herschel, saying that in this scholar's Discourse, "of
all books which I have met with, the four methods of induction are
distinctly recognised". (Logic, bk. 3, ch. 9, §3.)

The following are Mill's Canons (bk. 3, ch. 8):—

First Canon. — If two or more instances of the phenomenon under in-
vestigation have only one circumstance in common, the circumstance in
which alone all the instances agree is the cause (or effect) of the given
phenomenon. (See Herschel, Discourse, [146-148.].)1

Second Canon. — If an instance in which the phenomenon under investi-
gation occurs, and an instance in which it does not occur, have every
circumstance in common, save one, that one occurring only in the former,
the circumstance in which alone the two instances differ is the effect,
or the cause, or an indispensable part of the cause, of the phenomenon.
(See Herschel, Discourse, [156.].)'

Third Canon. — If two or more instances in which the phenomenon
occurs have only one circumstance in common, while two or more in-
stances in which it does not occur have nothing in common except the
absence of that circumstance, the circumstance in which alone the two
sets of instances differ is the effect, or the cause, or an indispensable
part of the cause, of the phenomenon.

Fourth Canon. — Subduct from any phenomenon such part as is known
by previous inductions to be the effect of certain antecedents, and the
residue of the phenomenon is the effect of the remaining antecedents.
(See Herschel, Discourse, [158.].)1

Fifth Canon. — Whatever phenomenon varies in any manner whenever
another phenomenon varies in some particular manner, is either a cause
or an effect of that phenomenon, or is connected with it through some
fact of causation. (See Herschel, Discourse, [145.].)

These Canons possess at least three grave defects. In dis-
cussing the syllogism we pointed out that we are seldom in
a position to possess exhaustive data or incontrovertible proof

1 In the wording of Mill's Canons there is a remarkable similarity to
Herschel's sentences.

50 PART I.— THE PROBLEM.

of any matter, and from this it follows that in general scientific
work the Canons could play but a small part, whilst in cultural
investigations, for instance, there would be scarcely ever an
opportunity of applying them. No doubt, in the manipulation
of letters — abode, abed, bed, ca,.dc — we can readily detect what
purports to be the common or differentiating fact, but in nature
itself the component elements in a problem are unfortunately
not lettered,1 and certainty is, therefore, an ideal to be respect-
fully approached rather than to be frequently attained in ex-
perience. A good illustration of this are the many obstinate
obscurities and difficulties encountered in consistently conceiving
and interpreting the Periodic Law in chemistry. What is hence
needed are additional Canons which shall deal with approximate
truths, for only such truths are the staple product of modern
science which has done once for all with the Noah's Ark world
postulated by the ancients.

Scores of passages like the following could be quoted to en-
force the teaching of history that certainty is attained only
slowly and laboriously:—

"A good deal of evidence has been accumulated in favour of the view
that the meteorological conditions of our globe exhibit a periodicity of
thirty-five years — in other words, that there is a tendency for a similarity
in the general run of the seasons to recur after the lapse of this interval
of time. Bruckner's study of the information available regarding the
variations of the water level in the Caspian Sea, first suggested this
period. Russian records also contain a good deal of information regarding
.floods or unusual shallowness of the rivers, and the dates of their opening
and closing to navigation, and a close examination of this material tended
to confirm the view. Subsequently, the investigation was extended to
the water levels of lakes in other parts of the world, having inland drain-
age, and the results were again in many instances broadly confirmatory
of Bruckner's cycle. Records of the advance and recession of Alpine
glaciers also supplied a certain amount of confirmation. The evidence
in favour of the existence of a periodicity of thirty-five years has had to
be culled, often with great labour, from historical documents in which
references to meteorological phenomena are only incidental. Only by
using such sources of information has it been possible to extend the
inquiry over the greater part of the last two centuries. Such indirect
evidence is not so satisfactory as we could wish, but the number of
meteorological records which are of sufficient length to be of service in
an inquiry of this sort is very small. Hann's examination of the rainfall
records from Padua, Milan, and Klagenfurt, which cover the years from
1726 to 1900, has shown some indications of the reality of a period of average
length of about thirty-five years. In the meteorology of the Southern
hemisphere, different authors have found indications of the existence of
a period of nineteen years. The records of Australia, South Africa, and
South America all show suggestions of such a period, but as yet the
evidence cannot be regarded as conclusive." (R. G. K. Lempfert, Weather
Science, pp. 76-77.)

A second defect is revealed when we attempt to apply the
Canons. How many times must I determine agreement before
the Canon of Agreement, for example, is satisfied? Or what

1 For an analogous criticism of Mill's alphabetic conception, see Whewell,
Philosophy of Discovery, pp. 263, 264.

SECTION 6. -THE PROGRESS OF METHODOLOGICAL THEORY. 51

shall ensure the correctness of our observations ? Is it sufficient
to make one observation, or two, or five, or ten? Consider
an instance. The inhabitants of Uganda suffer from sleeping
sickness, and it is required to ascertain its cause. Some one
submits that the Tsetse fly is answerable for the many deaths
traceable to this disease. Does it, then, suffice to make one
or two observations, and to note the presence of the fly in
these cases ? But let us idealise our example, a process not
contemplated by Mill. Suppose we learn that everybody in
Uganda who is suffering from sleeping sickness has been molested
by a Tsetse fly, that no one who has not been so molested
has the particular sickness, and that more or fewer Tsetse flies
means more or less sleeping sickness, does it follow now that
the Tsetse fly is the direct cause of the sleeping sickness?
Now, skilful observation has shown that the cause is some
species of Trypanosome which, is harboured by the Tsetse fly.1
Unless, therefore, we are absolutely sure with regard to the
number of possible causes, and are certain, too, that we have
observed correctly, the Canon can never be said to have been
truly applied. In other words, Mill was unconscious of the
impracticability of dealing with methods of 'proof apart from
methods of discovery.

Finally, the Canons only profess to be concerned with causes.
Mill, following Herschel2, speaks of "the notion of cause being
the root of the whole theory of induction" (Logic, p. 213), and
of "inductive inquiry having for its object to ascertain what
causes are connected with what effects" (p. 251). Yet in other
places he tells us that "induction may be defined the operation
of discovering and proving general propositions" (p. 186), that
"induction is that operation of the mind by which we infer
that what we know to be true in a particular case or cases,
will be true in all cases which resemble the former in certain
assignable respects" (p. 188), that "induction is a process of
inference" (p. 188), and that "induction, properly so-called,...
may, then, be summarily defined as Generalisation from Ex-
perience" (p. 200). We are confronted here with a palpable
contradiction, for we may generalise static facts as we may
generalise causes; but the establishment of a cause is not
called a generalisation, any more than the establishment of
a fact as such. Mill's Canons do not, therefore, propose any
tests dealing with generalisation as such, with generalisation as
to objects and causes, or with facts as such.3

1 In certain parts of Africa the Tsetse fly is not infected, and therefore
innocuous.

2 Herschel, in this matter, followed Bacon, who was evidently following
in others' footsteps: "It is a correct position that 'true knowledge is know-
ledge by causes'." (Novum Organum, bk. 2, 2.)

* A spirited attack on the Canons will be found in Bradley's Logic.
pp. 331-342.

4*

52 PART I.— THE PROBLEM.

It is well known how scientists examine for months and years
the distinctive characteristics of a substance or the influences
which affect it, as is now the case with radium. Mill, on the
other hand, lauded to the skies the liberal use of hypotheses,
and left it to the art of education1, as distinct from logic, to
train the human mind to wrestle with the subtlety of nature
and prepare men for reading its secrets — as if a fragmentary
methodology were a methodology at all. "In scientific investi-
gation," he writes, "as in all other works of human skill, the
way of obtaining the end is seen as it were instinctively by
some superior minds in some comparatively simple case, and
is then, by judicious generalisation, adapted to the variety of
complex cases." (Logic, bk. 6, ch. 1, § 1.) With such an almost
superstitious regard for the value of instinct'2 or intuition matters
are immensely simplified. Mill apparently never entered into
the spirit of indefatigable experimentalists like Faraday, to whom
it was "discomfort to reason upon data which admitted of
doubt" (Tyndall, Faraday as a Discoverer, 1868, p. 41), nor did
he consciously recognise that acknowledged scientific thinkers
are as much observers as they are generalisers. If we add
that Mill, agreeing in this with logicians generally, does not
provide us with an adequate analysis of such terms as object,
observation, hypothesis, generalisation, deduction, and verifica-
tion, we shall be convinced that he did not exhaust his subject.
In fact, an examination of Mill's Logic will show that, in the
main, it presents a philosophical discussion of certain inductive
principles rather than an attempt at constructing a compre-
hensive or systematic methodology.

We have seen that scientific thinkers grow into the methods
which they happen to employ. It is consequently readily under-

1 So Welton (Manual of Logic, vol. 2, p. Ill): "The means of training
the power of accurate observation belong to the general theory of education,
not to logic."

2 Mill's point of view on this matter 'resembles so closely that of his
immediate predecessor Whewell that there appears to be adequate reason
for believing that Mill was strongly and fatally influenced by him. Since
Mill abstracted the substance of the material for the inductive part of his
Logic from Whewell (Autobiography, ch. 6), this is not astonishing. Whewell,
in his Novum Organum Renovatum, 1858, says little in justification of the
title of his work. "An art of discovery is not possible. At each step of
the investigation are needed invention, sagacity, genius — elements which
no art can give." (P. v.) "Scientific discovery must ever depend upon some
happy thought, of which we cannot trace the origin ; some fortunate cast
of intellect, rising above all rules." (P. 44.) Nevertheless he presents some
scheme: "We have the following series of processes concerned in the for-
mation of science: (1) Decomposition of facts; (2) Measurement of pheno-
mena; (3) Explication of conceptions; (4) Induction of laws of phenomena:
(5) Induction of causes; (6) Application of inductive discoveries." (P. 143.)
It was his objective manner of facing facts, his want of interest in the
psychological processes which determine the arriving at a conclusion, that
hid from Whewell the art of discovery. Unhappily his influence over Mill
was paramount. Yet Mill recognised that "observation and experiment are
the ultimate basis of all knowledge". (Bk. 3, ch. 10, §8.)

SUCTION '.-CONCLUSION OF PART I. 53

stood that men acquainted closely with science, like Whewell
and Jevons, who were not psychologists, should be unaware
of the methods which they resort to in scientific enquiries, and
that spectators, like John Stuart Mill, who discern only the
final product, and that through the glasses of classicism, should
not be explicit concerning the complex process which precedes
the final drawing of a conclusion.

SECTION VII.— CONCLUSION.

§ 18. In the preceding Sections it was explained wherein
the problem of methodology lies. Individual minds left to their
own devices, we learnt, are lost in clouds of words, and are
prone to evolve error rather than truth. Thinking, however,
in concert, men correct one another, and gradually, through
the ages, develop methodological traditions of an increasingly
higher order. Yet since these traditions lack unity, because
each of them has developed in materially different circum-
stances, they cannot be readily applied to new problems, nor
can they be convincingly and systematically communicated.

Concurrently, and keeping pace with the growth of these
traditions, more or less crude systems of methodology, we
observed, develop, and then pass away into more or less im-
proved systems. The first impulse, encouraged by the belief,
due to limited experience and naive desires, that the world of
fact is devoid of complexity, was tacitly to postulate that final
truth is the goal of the man of science, and accordingly the
logic, associated for us with the name of Aristotle, held sway
for a score of centuries. Indeed even now works on logic
frequently regard the subjective intelligence and the objective
world as if their processes could be neatly analysed and sepa-
rated, at least by superior minds. So strong has been the
primitive absolutist influence that methodological thinkers of
later times, such as Descartes and Mill, oblivious of the changes
wrought by time in the scientific conception of the world, strove
to extend the old logical methods without attempting to shake
the principle of absolutism or finalism in knowledge and thought.
Only one eminent methodologist, Francis Bacon, explicitly re-
cognised that the complexity of facts required methods which
should accommodate themselves to the various imperfect phases
of a scientific enquiry, and that such methods were not given,
but had to be laboriously found. Lacking such a relativist
foundation in harmony with the data and the needs of modern
science, logic fell into disrepute, and the problem of this treatise
is therefore, on the basis of the recognition of the socio-historic
and consequently relativist nature of thought, to elaborate
a scientific methodology, and thus to re-instate logic into its
exalted position as the mistress of the sciences.

54 PART II.— SOME IMPORTANT METHODOLOGICAL TERMS.

PART II.

DEFINITION OF SOME IMPORTANT METHODO-
LOGICAL TERMS.

SECTION VIII.— OBJECT, FACT, ENVIRONMENT.

§ 19. (A) OBJECT.— The term Object is, as such, perhaps
undefinable. A given object is that (object) which we choose
to regard as having a separate or separable existence.1 An
atom in a molecule, a molecule in a nucleus, the nucleus itself,
the cell, a piece of tissue, an organ, a system of organs, the
organism, and so on, may severally be regarded as entities.
(Conclusions 25 / and 22.) A tree, a wood, a landscape, a moun-
tain range, a country, a continent, the earth, the solar system,
the sidereal system, and the Universe, are objects.2 In a puzzle
picture, whose primary object it is to deceive, and in many
geometrical designs, the same set of lines, according to the
manner in which they are viewed or interpreted, yield dis-
similar objects. Similarly with sounds. Uttering, for instance,
several times in rapid succession the word "plea", we may
imagine, according to choice or circumstance, that we are say-
ing "leap" or "plea". Again, we may disregard the changes
which are produced in the passage of time — from the zygote
to the new-born babe, and from the new-born babe to the man
bowed down by age, or the transformations due to position
in space and to other circumstances. Furthermore, just as we
may ignore changes of time and space, we may pass over
determinate quantity, as in the concepts man, redness, solidity,
and the like, where the terms imply highly abstract and gene-
ralised facts. Similarly, inasmuch as animate beings derive
their nature from other animate beings, as a son from his
parents; an animal and a plant from other animals and plants;
one species from a preceding one; therefore mankind and the
whole of animate existence may be conceived as one and
undivided. The current methods of classification are, however,
based on practical considerations, and separate movable ob-
jects—an animal, a table— are the conventional types of objects
as such. Beyond this necessarily limited view of apprehending
nature, convenience, interest, and an easy grasp and separation

1 "GegenstJinde oder Dinge sind von unserm Willen unabhangige Kom-
plexe von Empfindungen, denen raumliche Selbstandigkeit und zeitliche
Stetigkeit zukommt." (Wundt, Logik, vol.1, p. 454.) It need scarcely be
pointed out that a complex of sensations is a thing or object, and that no
sensation complex is entirely independent of discriminating intelligence.

2 "We can call a pile of wood, a pyramid of balls, or a heap of sand
a unity or a thing, although it contains a plurality." (Sigwart, Logic, vol. 2,
p. 82.) Sigwart discusses this subject somewhat fully, and Locke has a
few apposite paragraphs in his Essay on the Human Understanding, bk. 2,
ch. 23, § 1-2.

SECTION 8.- OBJECT, FACT, ENVIRONMENT. .~>5

by the senses or the intelligence, cpmmonly determine classi-
fication.

Sundry aspects in the conception of objects, derived from a
methodical analysis based on Conclusion 25 /, and in agreement
with Conclusion 20, should be noted: (1) the several atoms or
smallest particles in an apple, for instance, are judged to be
objects. (2) An apple, consisting as it does of various parts
(peel, pips, etc.), is regarded as one object. (3) We separate
sense impressions derived from many apples and name these
qualities, as solidity and sweetness. (4) We disregard those
special states of the apple which are ascribable to particular
causes, e.g., disease. (5) The apple, conceived as changing
from an arbitrary point (the fertilised ovum) to another arbitrary
point (the state of decay), is considered as possessing an in-
dependent existence. (6) As with the development of the apple,
so with its antecedent and subsequent states — the time before
fertilisation of the ovum and after decay, practical reasons
induce men to pass them over. (7) We form classes of objects
in time sequence, of higher and higher categories, as in the
theory of evolution where the rich life of to-day, including our
apple, is traced back to the detachment of our planet and prior.
(8) We combine smaller into larger aggregates in order of
space— apple, apple tree, orchard, village, district, province,
country, continent, earth, solar system, Western Universe,
Island Universe, Universe. (9) Influences of temperature and
moisture, of atmospheric pressure, of gravitation, the constant
removal and addition of minute particles, and the environmental
influences generally as summed up in external physical, bio-
logical, and cultural influences are, for practical purposes,
arbitrarily ignored in the concept of an apple. (10) In all
observation of an apple or of any other object memory enters
in at least two forms — as (a) special memory, in that we cannot
focus an ordinary object in one single act or moment of time,
and as (b) general memory, in that we only recognise an object
by connecting it with preceding experiences.1

Human convenience, then, determines the definition of an
object, and, omitting- the Universe as object, we might define
an object as a more or less arbitrarily selected or framed portion
of the differences-containing Universe- which, for the sake of
convenience, we choose to regard as having a more or less

*

1 We pass methodically, according to Conclusion 27, from extreme minimum
to extreme maximum. (1), (2), (3), and (4) are the four different aspects
of an average apple or object other than single "atom". (5) and (6) follow
development within, before, and after the apple's life time. (7) and (8) furnish
the relations in time and space. (9) enumerates environmental factors. And
(10) allows for the psychological aspect.

- The less differentiated we imagine the constitution of the Universe to
be, the greater will be our difficulty to perceive "objects". For instance, a
white sheet of paper, viewed from a little distance by even illumination,
can only be broken up with difficulty into subsidiary objects.

56 PART II.— SOME IMPORTANT METHODOLOGICAL TERMS.

separate and durable existence. Plato's permanent types do not
appear therefore to receive any warrant from an analysis of
the term Object, and Kant's Thing-in-itself apparently dissolves
in the examination.

Science is concerned with objects, and consequently it is
important that we should be methodologically aware of the
artificiality, ambiguity, or arbitrariness of the term Object. In
applying, therefore, methodological canons, we should assume
that the phenomenon we are scrutinising has only a separate
or definite existence in a very limited sense, and that we
should hence beware of isolating it too rigidly in our thought.1
(The general nature of a given object is defined in Conclusion 3,
and some of the main practical difficulties encountered in de-
fining an object will be discussed in Conclusion 17.)

§ 20. (B) FACT.— Consonant with the preceding analysis
of the term Object, a fact may be defined as a valid theory -
in regard to the exact nature and relations of a certain portion
of reality. That the sun gives light, that fire burns, that we
are breathing, may appear to be occurrences so certain that
the expression "valid theory" hardly does justice to them.
Error, however, not only tends to invade the most unexpected
places, as men of science will be the first to admit, but dreams
and mental disorders further warn us against indulging in
absolutist statements. Giddings says in his Inductive Sociology
(p. 13): "A fact, in the scientific sense of the word, is the
close agreement of many observations or measurements of the
same phenomena."

§ 21. (C) ENVIRONMENT.— We may state that that which
surrounds any fact constitutes its environment. Thus the indi-
vidual's environment is the Universe minus himself, whilst he
forms the environment for the world external to him. In the
realm of ideas the same definition applies. When it is said,
therefore, that man is a creature of his environment, it should
be borne in mind that, being an integral part of the Universe,
he shares power and influence with his environment. Similarly,
when his impotence is sought to be demonstrated by fatalists
on the assumption that he is a product of antecedent causes,
we are bound to observe that as a component of the Universe
he also is a cause. The law of action and reaction applies
here.

* In his highly suggestive volume {'Evolution creatrice, M. Henri Bergson
provides good grounds for believing that it is only the practical nature of
our intelligence, aiming as it does commonly at results and not at knowledge,
which renders us sometimes forgetful of the fact that reality is in great
measure a flux, and that definite objects, spaces, and times are unreal or,
let us say, artifacts. Conclusion 27 emphasises, by its method of degree-
determination, the need of doing justice to this flux. Complete indefiniteness,
however, would be indistinguishable from blank nescience.

- "In its most proper acceptation, theory means the completed result of
philosophical induction from experience." (Mill, Logic.)

SKCTION .9.— OBSERVATION. 57

For practical ends the environment is frequently interpreted
in a narrower and more specific sense, as in Conclusion 17 c. It
is, in fact, of signal importance not only to employ the term with
caution, but to remember in every enquiry both the vital fact
involved therein, and the need of making thereof a limited use.

SECTION IX.— OBSERVATION.

§ 22. To marvel at the twinkling stars; to contemplate the
periodic transformations in the form of the moon and both its
path and that of the sun; to observe the ebbing and the rising
of the tide; to note stones falling and smoke rising; to perceive
the flash of lightning and hear the rolling thunder; to experience
sunshine, wind, rain, snow, and hail; to notice the conspicuous
seasonal changes in plant life, and the general facts of variety,
growth, and decay in animate beings; to learn of men of different
shades of colour, and of the fortunes and falls of empires and
nations; to visit churches, art galleries, factories, and homes,
and to take stock of other striking and patent facts in the way
the man in the street does, has scientifically a minimum value,
because in no such instance are the material factors revealed to
the unaided sense and the unassisted reason. Apart from
science, he who is uninstructed is unaware, for example, that
plants abstract from the air carbonic acid, and return to it oxygen
and water vapour; nor that the action of the sun on the chloro-
phyll, <jr the green colouring matter, of plants leads to the ini-
tial production of living matter from non-living matter; nor that
bacteria help plants in obtaining nitrogen from the soil; nor that
the action of earthworms prepares the soil for vegetation; nor
that the form, the bright colours, the scent, and the sugary
secretions of flowers have developed for the purpose of attracting
insects which act as fertilising agents; nor that plants evolve, and
are constituted of minute cells; nor indeed anything of conse-
quence regarding the vegetable kingdom; nor that enzymes, inter-
nal secretions, and vitamines exist, and are indispensable to the
maintenance of life, or that the cells possibly utilise molecular
energy, and are affected by molecular movements; nor that
''physiology consists largely in tracing the way in which Oxygen
enters the body, the manner in which it is distributed to the
tissues, and the various phases of vital activity which it brings
about within the living tissues" (W. A. Locy, Biology and its
Makers, p. 183); nor that food is directly transformed into energy
without being first converted into heat. And what is true of
his ignorance of life is true quite generally. Astronomical,
geological, electrical, chemical, meteorological, and other leading
natural laws, are wholly beyond his conventional range, and
the genesis and meaning of cultural phenomena are wrapt for
him in an impenetrable fog. So far as observing what is

58 PART IL- SOME IMPORTANT METHODOLOGICAL TERMS.

significant is concerned, he is almost exactly in the position of
a blind man in respect of colours.

This is not astonishing when we ascertain how little is dis-
closed by ordinary experience. How is the uneducated man
to read the story of the stars, the earth, or the stratified rocks?
How is he to determine the depth of the strata or of the sea,
or the diameter of the earth or moon? How is he to follow
the system of mountain ranges; divine that volcanic regions
are situated close to the sea or to large lakes; or suspect the
existence or understand the cause of the trade winds? How
is he to surmise that the lump of flesh he is inspecting is a
muscle, and that buried in the lump are tendons, nerves, ar-
teries, veins, all held together by connective tissue ; or how is
he to determine the composition of the blood and its functions ;
or how is he to follow the processes of digestion and absorp-
tion of foodstuffs or the segmentation of the ovum? How is
he to decipher the history of mankind which stretches to the
tertiary period, and the complex signs of his own age?

The information of what is remote in time and space is to
be acquired only by collective enquiries frequently lasting for
generations. Such facts defy conjecture, and much less is the
world of molecular masses open to his gaze, seeing that this
world is wholly screened from unaided sight and touch. The
weight of radium which may be detected experimentally by
means of the electrometer is 0,000,000,000,001 of a gram; the
quantity of xenon in the atmosphere is one part in 170,000,000;
there are said to be about 640 trillions of hydrogen molecules
in one milligram of the gas; the diameter of a molecule is
perhaps about 2X10~8 cms.; the number of molecules in 1 ccm.
of air under normal conditions is about 2?X10~19; a molecule
collides about 6,000,000,000 times a second; and the mass of
the electron is about ^th part of that of the hydrogen atom, the
weight of the latter being 1 . 63X10~24 gms. When it is considered
that scientific knowledge — as in biology, chemistry, light, heat,
electricity, and magnetism— is vitally contingent on an acquaint-
ance, however indirect, with substances invisible to the naked
eye or imperceptible altogether except indirectly, as with cer-
tain classes of bacteria, the impotence of common observation
becomes manifest. Hence we find that most scientific inquirers
seek by increased refinement of methods to pierce into the
world of the infinitesimal. Consequently, so far from desultory
observation suggesting to the man of science an extensive and
true hypothesis, he and hundreds of his confreres almost ex-
haust themselves in establishing a few comparatively narrow
generalisations grounded on an astounding number of obser-
vations— witness, for example, the almost infinitely laborious
process of discovery of the numerous glandular secretions
which, at different stages, prepare the ingested food for ab-

SECTION 9. - OBSER VA TION. 59

sorption into the human system. Scientific observation therefore
commonly presupposes a rapidly growing arsenal of ingenious
and delicate instruments or other adjuncts, often devised or
perfected by the men of science themselves.

An illustration drawn from Herschel and Jevons exemplifies
the importance of circumspect observation. Shells had been
encountered on high mountains, and seven hypotheses had been
propounded to account for the shells. Some men contended
that the shells had been left behind by the retreating waters
of the "deluge"; Voltaire argued that pilgrims had dropped
them there; others thought they were freaks of nature, or that
they were due to fermentation, to the influence of the celestial
bodies, or to birds feeding on shell-fish; and a seventh group
of persons claimed that they were the remains of living forms
covered by accumulations of debris of various kinds, and sub-
sequently exposed or detached. Now the first six hypotheses
were practically gratuitous surmises, since they were evidently
not derived from anything like wide observation. And if the
seventh one was merely a fortunate hit, not grounded on, nor
to be succeeded by, exhaustive observation, it was to all intents
and purposes as unprofitable as the other six. Only the pro-
longed, extensive, minute, and accurate observations of such
men as Sir Charles Lyell and Archibald Geikie, have enabled
geologists to propose valid generalisations, and to proceed
deductively with some effect. "Comparison must be made
with facts purposely selected so as to include every variety
of case, not omitting extreme ones', and in sufficient number
to afford every reasonable probability of detecting error", and
all conclusions need to be "in exact accordance with numerous
observations purposely made under such a variety of circum-
stances as fairly to embrace the whole range of the phenomena
which the theory is intended to account for". (Herschel, Dis-
course, [219-220.].)

In earlier stages of a science — when comparatively much
material has been accumulated, but yet far too little to permit
the detailed testing of a sweeping conjecture — the formation
of a large hypothesis is only admissible when its purely pro-
visional character is stressed. Within these limits it has marked
advantages. If, however, the apparent and partial consistency
of the hypothesis with the imperfectly known facts is regarded
as of itself conclusive evidence for its correctness, we are
likely to be imposed on by a mirage, and the progress of
science is arrested. A pertinent illustration of the above is
offered by the story of the highly ingenious and purely hypo-
thetical phlogiston theory, which we accordingly quote:—

•'The theory of phlogiston was originally broached as a theory of
combustion. According to this theory, bodies such as coal, charcoal, wood,
oil, fat, etc., burn because they contain a combustible principle, which
was assumed to be a material substance and uniform in character. This

60 PART II.- SOME IMPORTANT METHODOLOGICAL TERMS.

substance was known as phlogiston. All combustible bodies were to be
regarded, therefore, as compounds, one of their constituents being
phlogiston: their different natures depended partly upon the proportion
of phlogiston they contain, and partly upon the nature and amount of
their other constituents. A body, when burning, was parting with
its phlogiston; and all the phenomena of combustion — the flame, heat
and light — were caused by the violence of the expulsion of that sub-
stance. Certain metals — as, for example, zinc— could be caused to burn,
and thereby to yield earthy substances, sometimes white in colour, at
other times variously coloured. These earthy substances were called
calces, from their general resemblance to lime. Other metals, like lead
and mercury, did not appear to burn ; but on heating them they gradually
lost their metallic appearance, and became converted into calces. This
operation was known as calcination. In the act of burning or of calci-
nation phlogiston was expelled. Hence metals were essentially compound:
they consisted of phlogiston and a calx, the nature of which determined
the character of the metal. By adding phlogiston to a calx the metal
was regenerated. Thus, on heating the calx of zinc or of lead with coal,
or charcoal, or wood, metallic zinc or lead was again formed. When a
candle burns, its phlogiston is transferred to the air; if burned in a
limited supply of air, combustion ceases, because the air becomes satu-
rated with phlogiston." (E.Thorpe, History of Chemistry, vol.1, pp. 71-72.)

Lavoisier's theory that in combustion substances combine with
the oxygen of the air — the very reverse of the assumption of
the phlogiston hypothesis that substances lose in combustion-
was the product of a more advanced age.

The very ground we tread on has an immeasurably richer
meaning for the man of science than for the uncultivated:—

"Turn up a sod of earth in a pasture in winter, and at first sight it
seems to consist of two well-marked portions, a living and a dead one —
the green grass above and the black soil beneath it. But look closer
into the mass, and what then do you see? A whole network of living
beings. Matted roots of grass, just as much alive as the green blades
above, spread and interlace themselves through the seemingly dead portion.
Bulbs of bulbous buttercup, of orchids, of garlic, lie hidden in it every-
where. Root-stocks of plantain, of chervil, of pimpinel, of daisy, are
knotted among its clods. Gaze closer still, and you will see that it is all
full of tubers or stocks of lesser weeds, in their dormant condition, all
ready to spring afresh at the first breath of April. How the endless
bulbs and corns and tap-roots manage to stow themselves away in so
small a space is to me a perpetual mystery ; in winter you hardly notice
the little potato-like pills of the lesser celandine, but in spring the plants
cover the ground with their golden blossoms, to be succeeded in due course
by the spotted orchid, the buttercups, the centauries, the hawk-weeds,
and all the countless flowers of July and August. They are packed as
tight as sardines in a tin. As for the seeds of small annuals they lurk
there by the thousand; sift out a little of the soil, and plant it in a pot,
and, hi presto! to your surprise, weeds will spring from it in incredible
numbers. The whole mass teems with dormant germs innumerable.

"It is the same with animals. You think of this soil as dead; but it
is undermined by rabbits, rats, moles, and lizards. It swarms with in-
vertebrates. LarvaB of tiger beetles lie in wait in its crannies; grubs
and worms without end find a living in its hollows. Woodlice and petty
snails lurk under every stone; centipedes and wire worms crawl through
its interstices; testacella pursues earthworms as the ferret pursues the
rat ; a whole underground fauna lives and moves and has its being in
that seemingly dead congeries. Turn up a handful of earth, and examine
it with a pocket lens ; you will find it alive, like an ant-hill, with endless

SKCTION .9. - OBSER VA TION. 61

tiny mites and crawling creatures. Even if we take into consideration
only the plants and animals visible to the naked eye, this soil beneath
our feet is one heaving, seething, moving mass of living organisms; it
has its jungle-law and its penalties, its feuds and its alliances, its fierce
struggle for life and its unspeakable tragedies.

"But when we pass from the visible to the invisible world, the
variety and fertility are even more conspicuous." (Grant Allen, The Hand
of God and other 'Posthumous Essays, 1909, pp. 96-97.)

A second illustration by Jevons indicates how observation
and generalisation melt into each other. Examining the problem
of the rainbow, he concludes that "a beam of light and par-
ticles of water, in a particular position, are the necessary
antecedents or causes of the bow of colours"; and he adds
that "this is nearly all that simple observation can tell us, and
it forms merely the first step of preliminary observation".
(Primer of Logic, p. 96.) Yet to many persons this statement
will appear to be a broad generalisation, since it comprises not
only all coloured bows due to rain, but all coloured bows
whether due to rain or to other states of water. The fact is
that by observation we scarcely ever mean the examination
of an individual object at one particular moment from one
particular angle, but a process involving the examination of
individual objects under different conditions and the conscious
comprehension of all material resemblances to other similar
objects, accompanied by the studied neglect of all immaterial
divergences. Not infrequently, however, men of science proceed
even further, and include the examination of a series of classes,
as Jevons' illustration indicates.

Telepathic theories offer an example of how seldom the
complexity of the process of observation is recognised. De-
sirous of verifying a passage in a volume which I am reading,
I betake myself to the sitting room of the lady at whose resi-
dence I am temporarily staying in order to borrow a Bible.
As I leave my apartment, I meet the lady with a Bible in her
hand. Did she divine my thought? Perhaps I determine to
note kindred instances, and, after collecting a certain number,
I possibly reach the conclusion, as so many individuals have
done before me, that telepathy represents a proved mode of
human communication. Yet, scientifically, the problem is not
simple at all, for we must search for instances which resemble
this one, except for the peculiarity of the arresting coincidence.
That is, I must ask myself : Do I often require a book, another
person, a thought, without the book, other person, or thought
being encountered unexpectedly? The self-evident answer to
this query at once casts doubt on the first interpretation, for
the number of possible to real and impressive coincidences is
almost as infinity to one. In fact, if we are thorough, as it is
our duty to be, we shall institute a systematic enquiry into
the nature and frequency of coincidences, and it is much to
be hoped that this will be undertaken by some learned body.

62 PAR! II.— SOME IMPORTANT METHODOLOGICAL TERMS.

Or, to consider another related problem, that of telepathic
hallucinations. Some years ago the (London) Society for Psychi-
cal Research selected out of a very much larger aggregate
twenty cases of hallucinations alleged to have been experienced
by some one at the time of the death of some person known
but not expected to die. The investigators argued abstractly
that the law of probability made it extremely unlikely that
these very remarkable coincidences should have been "chance"
coincidences. Now, on closer scrutiny, we learn that these
hallucinations were experienced mostly about the time of wak-
ing, going to sleep, or dozing, including night time and post-
prandial siestas.1 It would have been, therefore, desirable to
engage in an objective or even experimental study of these
conditions in order to throw further light on the problem. If
this had been done — the present author has attempted it — it
would have transpired that in such a peculiar state hallucina-
tions are not rare, and that in this condition men believe them-
selves to be awake when they are partially asleep. This has
a double bearing on the problem, for, first, it teaches us that
hallucinations are not infrequent, and that they have as a rule
what is admittedly a natural cause, to the extent of being indeed
almost wholly at the mercy of a competent experimenter (see
Mind of Man, pp. 433-436), and, secondly, that expectancy
favours hallucinations. Moreover, we appreciate the gravity of
the fact that in not one instance were those who were said to
have experienced the hallucinations able to produce a recording
note written at the time. (The editors facetiously speak of
''mental" notes.) If to this be added that in not a few of the
cases there was anything but a "chance" coincidence, as the
theory assumes; that these hallucinations did not present them-
selves altogether or mainly to near or dear relatives and
friends; and that no hallucinations occur in myriads of daily
happenings of an analogous nature, we shall be compelled to
call in question the strictly scientific nature of the enquiry.

We are supported in our criticism of telepathy by other data,
which indicate that random surmises are of scanty use in
enquiries of this kind. To venture on one or two illustrations.
At a committee meeting I perceive my neighbour gazing half-
abstractedly at my notes. Presently he informs the chairman
that he desires to propose a certain motion — a motion which
he had read off my notes without really being aware of this !
Or a friend tells me that by "willing" he had compelled some-
body at the table, at which several of us are seated, to write
his name backwards, when the fact is that the "willing" was
suggested by what he saw somebody do, and not vice versa.
Or I observe that I ask myself regularly the question "Is the
blotting paper there?" when that article is perceived by me

1 Volume X of the Proceedings of the Society for Psychical Research.

SECTION 9.—OBSER VA 770 A7. 63

to be in its place, but as regularly omit it, when it is not
there— the usual explanation being that the sight of the article
gives rise to the enquiry, and not the reverse. Or to consider an
even more telling and yet common occurrence: bent on recall-
ing an event when somebody with me is engaged on the same
quest, I think that we have simultaneously succeeded when in
reality I am confusing hurried repetition of what my neighbour
says with independent recollection.1 Brushing aside, then, fraud
of every kind as well as gross self-deception, both of which
are far from being rarities, we still infer that it argues mon-
strously lax observation to collect at random a series of affir-
mative instances of a selected order and ground thereon a far-
reaching conclusion. Yet who would say that the examples
analysed here are not almost typical of most of the so-called
scientific work beyond the frontiers of the established sciences?

A kindred and related instance to telepathy is that of the
widely-obtaining attitude towards the problem of sub-con-
sciousness. Poincare had noticed that solutions of important
mathematical problems occurred to him not infrequently when
he was apparently absorbed in considering some matter extra-
neous to these problems; whence he concluded that the sub-
conscious activities of the mind possess greater value than its
conscious activities. Methodologically this seems a precipitate
conclusion to draw. Before we are entitled to deliver such a
verdict, we must be clear— following Conclusions 27 and 28—
concerning what "conscious" and "sub-conscious" mean; where
the two possibly pass into one another; whether "spontaneous"
solutions of an inferior character do not present themselves to
us; whether there are not multitudes of cases in which "sub-
conscious" thought is superficial like, or even more superficial
than, conscious thought; and we must be furthermore tho-
roughly satisfied about the precise facts relating to the alleged
spontaneous solutions— whether, for instance, we are at the
particular moment really absorbed in something else, or whether
it is not a question of a pause favourable for recollection or
cogitation.

Prof. William James has sought the nature of religion in the
realm of the sub-conscious; Hartmann has written a ponderous
work on the Philosophy of the Unconscious; at the present
moment Freud's psycho-analysis is developing into the psycho-
logy of the sub-conscious; and it would require pages to
enumerate the various virtues and activities attributed to the
sub-conscious in man. Nevertheless one vainly looks for a
scientific analysis or cautious discrimination pertaining to funda-
mentals in the various dissertations on the subject. Without pro-
nouncing on the basic issue as to whether "sub-conciousness",
or unconscious consciousness, is a fact, we may say that the

1 An identical explanation frequently applies when two individuals are
said to yawn simultaneously.

64 PART II.—SOME IMPORTANT METHODOLOGICAL .TERMS.

enquiry has been conducted in an unsatisfactory manner, and
that whilst normal psychology is yet a primal forest waiting
for pioneers to explore it, it is unlikely that any headway can
be made at present in matters connected with abnormal psycho-
logy. Observation, it is disconcerting to learn, is yet an art
almost entirely neglected outside the physical and biological
laboratory. So far as the sciences relating to man are concerned,
it is very much as if we lived in pre-Baconian days when the
need for scrupulously circumspect and varied observation was
unsuspected and audacious theorising or abject reliance on
authorities constituted usually the alpha and omega of the
method employed in discovery.

Consider, again, M. Henri Bergson's defence of indeterminism.
According to him "we are free when our acts emanate from
our entire personality" (Les donnees immediates de la con-
science, ed. 1906, p. 131); but in so far as we are prompted by
external or fragmentary incentives, our conduct, in M. Bergson's
opinion, is determined. In a methodological age we should
know what to expect of an essay where such a view is ad-
vanced. The author would propound his hypothesis, and then
proceed to its substantiation. He would be meticulously care-
ful to prove that we sometimes act with our whole nature ;
that in such instances we are not actuated by external influences
either directly or indirectly ; and that a higher or different value
is, for certain produced reasons, to be ascribed to decisions of
a purely internal nature. Unfortunately methodological pro-
cedure has not yet become second nature in man, and so
M. Bergson experiences no subjective qualms or objective diffi-
culties in concluding his exceedingly interesting psychological
study without any serious effort to convince us that we ever
act with our whole nature, or that, if we did so, our whole
nature is not an external or partially external product. Where
the man of science would feel that nothing short of a highly
developed science of mind could authorise him to entertain
such a hypothesis, the philosopher blandly assumes his facts
and is sublimely unconscious that he is merely indulging his
roaming fancy.

M. Bergson is but typical of this attitude of the philosopher
towards reality. For instance, Mr. Herbert Spencer, before him,
had sought to reconcile religion with science. Without even a
casual attempt to elucidate the meaning of religion, he in-
genuously postulated that "Religion under all its forms is
distinguished from everything else in this, that its subject
matter is that which passes the sphere of experience". (First
Principles, 1875, p. 17.) By such a procedure everything, of
course, can be demonstrated, and that is precisely what philo-
sophers unconsciously do, and men of science consciously and
severely leave undone. Only a universal conviction that truth
can be solely established by scientifically inspired socio-historic

SECTION 9.—OBSERVA TION. 65

research, will check the incessant, but fruitless, endeavours of
individuals to enlighten mankind on the most fundamental
issues of existence by advancing theories which are ambitious
and elaborate, but, at most points, out of touch with reality.

§ 23. Without a close and full examination of facts we are
liable to be gravely misled, as is impressively illustrated by the
Shakespeare-Bacon controversy. The general argument of those
who contend that Bacon was the author of the plays commonly
attributed to Shakespeare, runs somewhat as follows. These
plays are of such supreme excellence that he who was respon-
sible for writing them should be regarded as one of the greatest
master minds. the world has known. Now William Shakespeare
was the son of humble parents, enjoyed only an elementary
education, was a mediocre actor, was primarily interested in
acquiring wealth, had no consciousness of his greatness, and
was so uninteresting to his contemporaries that few traces of
his life are discoverable even by the most diligent research.
This commonplace actor, this conventional figure, could never
have been the creator of the superb comedies and tragedies
ascribed to him. On the other hand, his contemporary, Francis
Bacon, was the dominant spirit of his age, and to him un-
doubtedly should be assigned the merit and the glory of having
ushered onto the world's stage the plays reputedly Shakespeare's.
If it be objected that the plays are ostensibly by Shakespeare,
the reply proffered is that, owing to Bacon's high social position
and the low status of Elizabethan playwrights, the authorship
could not be revealed.

Abstractly, at least on the negative side, the case for the
Baconian origin of the plays in question appears almost irre-
sistible. Now to the facts. Shakespeare's father, John Shake-
speare, occupied successively all the higher civic posts in the
fairly large town of Stratford-on-Avon,' where he lived; and his
wife belonged to a respectable country family. The sons of
numerous fathers of the merchant class similarly situated, have
risen to the most prominent ranks. However, financial mis-
fortune overtook John Shakespeare, and therefore his illustrious
son's education was probably limited by what the grammar
school of the town offered. There, we may assume, he assimi-
lated what such an educational establishment provided, which
need by no means have been negligible in quantity or quality.
Besides, fortunately, culture is not a mere matter of school
drill. For aught we know to the contrary— pace Ben Jonson—
he might have become a great scholar through private study.
Arbitrarily to limit his possible intellectual attainments, would
be unfair. Of course, Shakespeare's plays might have exhibited
such a grasp of the sciences, the arts, and other subjects taught
at the universities, that it woulH be difficult to account for
John Shakespeare's son acquiring them; but since philosophers,
men of science, politicians, and artists, do not ponder over his

66 PART II.— SOME IMPORTANT METHODOLOGICAL TERMS.

plays to increase their technical knowledge and insight, we
may ignore this aspect.

However, is it consistent with the nature of things that a
mere actor should be the author of incomparably great plays?
Well, a high percentage of the dramatists of his day were
temporarily or permanently actors. Not onlyf therefore, does
Shakespeare's authorship not militate against his having been
a dramatist, but it is almost what we should expect. As a
matter of fact, his intimacy with the stage, and his regular
income derived therefrom, were probably powerful aids to his
producing good plays.

And how is his obscurity to be explained? We answer, by
the general fact that there is not one Elizabethan playwright,
except Ben Jonson, who was a critic as well, of whom we
possess any but the most meager record. Even Beaumont and
Fletcher, who belonged to families noted in their day, are
without a private history for us. Nor is this difficult to under-
stand. In those days there were no daily papers or other
periodicals, nor did that age command other means of counter-
acting this deficiency. Hence playwrights, who were tabooed
socially, lived and died, without fame noising abroad their
private ventures and adventures. In reality, their very plays
were ordinarily not their property, and in rare cases only did
they publish or supervise the publication of their works. It
was even common for plays to be published without author's
name, as if the author was of no consequence.

We should, further, remember that Shakespeare was not
regarded by his own age as in any way unique or strikingly
different from other playwrights. From the documents which
have escaped the ravages of time, we are bound to conclude
that he was considered as one dramatist among a number,
though one of the first caliber. Shakespeare had therefore no
valid reason why he should conceive himself as differing mark-
edly from his fellow playwrights, or why he should not seek
to retrieve his family's financial losses.

Yet how could such a plain bourgeois write exquisitely, as
Shakespeare did? This, too, should be answered in the light
of his time. His manner of writing was that of a school of
playwrights, and the utmost that one could say is that whilst
he was on the whole the first of the school, he exhibited no
stateable peculiarities, except those of frequent superiority.
That is, practically all that has been said about Shakespeare,
is literally true of his fellow playwrights. Circumstances have
concealed this, but an impartial study of the school of Eliza-
bethan playwrights renders this manifest. His genius is there-
fore first and foremost an expression of his age, and is a social,
and not an individual, product.

If the above be conceded, it might still be argued that it is
incumbent on us to connect the actor with the author, and

SECTION 9.—OBSERVA TION. 67

both with the William Shakespeare of Stratford-on-Avon. This,
too, is not difficult to compass. Diverse documents render it
evident that an actor of that name existed at the time at the
very theatre where the Shakespearean plays were regularly per-
formed. Moreover, one of the Prefaces to the 1623 Folio,
which many Baconians claim to have been edited by Bacon
himself, contains definite statements by his fellow actors Heminge
and Condell, to the effect that the author of the plays and the
actor were one. They say that their object in publishing the
collected edition was "to keep the memory of so worthy a
friend and fellow alive as was our Shakespeare"; and Ben
Jonson, in a famous passage in his Timber, published in 1641,
takes this for granted (pp. 97, 98). In that Folio, too, there are
allusions directly connecting Shakespeare with Stratford- oil-
Avon, even his monument being referred to. Thus Ben Jonson,
in his Ode, addresses Shakespeare as the "Sweet Swan of
Avon", and Leonard Digges, in his poetical effusion, speaks
of ". . . thy Stratford monument".

Lastly, in Shakespeare's will there is mention of three of his
fellow actors, John Heminge, Richard Burbage, and Henry
Condell, whilst a fellow actor, A. Phillips, in his will, left "to my
fellowe, William Shakespeare, a thirty-shillings piece of gold".
(On Shakespeare, the actor, see Sir Sidney Lee's Life of Shake-
speare.) The chain of evidence in favour of the theory that
the reputed author of the plays is the real author, is, therefore,
as complete as we could wish, short of extensive biographical
documentation.

Now to Bacon and the plays. Is it not incredible that Bacon
should have published the plays under another's name, a man
well-known in the community, said by Baconians generally to
have been utterly incapable of composing them? To continue
successfully such a deception for twenty years or more, as is
implied, would be nothing less than miraculous. We do not
encounter here a fictitious pseudonym ; but an individual dwell-
ing in what was then the dramatic hub of the Elizabethan
universe, and perforce known to multitudes. Only a Shake-
speare, it is evident, could properly impersonate a Shakespeare.

Here is another small, but significant point. The title page of
the first Folio has a portrait described as that of Shakespeare's.
Now how extraordinary this is on the Baconian theory! Why
have had a portrait at all? And if there was to be one, why
not subtle suggestions of the person of Bacon? The portrait
is in flagrant contradiction with the assumption that the plays
were not by Shakespeare.

How strange, too, that not only should the sponsors of the
first Folio be two actors who speak of the author as a fellow
and friend of theirs, but state repeatedly that the author is no
longer among the living. They protest: "It had been a thing,
we confess, worthy to have been wished, that the author

68 PART II.- SOME IMPORTANT METHODOLOGICAL TERMS.

himself had lived to have set forth and overseen his own
writings; but since it hath been ordained otherwise, and he
by death departed from that right, we pray you do not envy
his friends the office of their care and pains, to have collected
and published them."

Again, according to Ben Jonson's Commemorative Ode in
the first Folio, amply and conclusively confirmed by Richard
Farmer in the succeeding century, Shakespeare had "small
Latine, and less Greeke". Indeed, few, if rny, of his fellow
playwrights seemed so dependent on translations from the
classics or quoted so little Latin. Yet Bacon was a brilliant
Latin scholar, and his acknowledged works abound in referen-
ces to untranslated passages, and quote not a few in the original.
Moreover, the later seventeenth and the eighteenth century
were in emphatic accord with Ben Jonson, that Shakespeare
lacked "art", which would constitute ar ludicrous statement if
applied to Bacon. That is, the judgment of his own and that
of the succeeding century conforms precisely to what we should
expect of William Shakespeare, the son of John Shakespeare,
of Stratford-on-Avon, and is in violent conflict with the theory
that the super-learned Bacon was the author of the plays in
dispute. Shakespeare's helpless dependence on translations
completely disposes, of itself, of the Bacon theory.

Much might have also been said of the different styles of
the two writers; of Bacon's absorbing and life-long interest in
scientific method, of which there is no sign in Shakespeare's
plays; of the absence of the romantic element in Bacon's
writings; of his wanting time to write over thirty plays when
his hours were already so full.

When the principal facts, only obtainable through close
historic studies, are thus focused, we learn that there is every
reason for believing that Shakespeare wrote the plays attributed
to him, and that Bacon did not. Yet bare surmises and dilet-
tante enquiries would have only led us into ever deeper
quagmires. Facts cannot be divined.

Even more impressive from the viewpoint of scientific method,
is the solution of the problem of Shakespeare's real status as a
dramatist. According to the conception generally prevalent at
the present day, Shakespeare is the prince of the dramatists
of the modern era. Compared to him, every other dramatist
is a Liliputian at the side of a giant, or rather Shakespeare
is altogether unique and incomparable. His fellow dramatists
of the Elizabethan and Jacobean ages are of a different, almost
infinitely lower, stamp; his contributions to dramatic literature
are quite individual; his genius cannot be explained by anything
but his innate greatness ; and, accordingly, in articles and works
on Shakespeare, his dramatic environment is almost uniformly
ignored. His predecessors are sometimes referred to, but mostly
in far from flattering terms. In fact, the theory that Francis

SECTION 9.— OBSERVATION. 69

Bacon wrote Shakespeare's plays is directly attributable to the
exceptionally high estimate placed on Shakespeare's plays.
Such being the general opinion three centuries after Shake-
speare's death, to question it is regarded as verging on boorish
ignorance or lamentable eccentricity.

Our problem, then, is to inquire into the soundness of the
present-day attitude towards Shakespeare.

As we might anticipate from the drift of our special studies
generally, Shakespeare was no freak of nature nor an eccentric.
Shortly before he began to write, a number of remarkable
dramas appeared on the stage. And so far as the lighter side
was concerned, it was well represented by John Lyly, who
was in diverse ways one of Shakespeare's prototypes, and by
Robert Greene's James the Fourth, which is a sort of model
for Shakespeare's comedies. Shakespeare's common people,
his brilliant repartee, certain of his famous comic figures, and
his typical women, are foreshadowed in Lyly, as well as his
superior poetical and reflective vein. Again, Marlowe was one
of Shakespeare's exemplars on the side of tragedy, of historical
plays, and of the grand style. His indebtedness to his pre-
decessors has been not infrequently acknowledged, as, for in-
stance, by Sir Sidney Lee, in his Life of Shakespeare, who
writes: "Kyd and Greene left more or less definite impressions
on all Shakespeare's early efforts. But Lyly in comedy and
Marlowe in tragedy may be reckoned the masters to whom he
stood in the relation of disciple on the threshold of his career.
With Marlowe there is evidence that he was for a brief season
a working partner." (Op. cit., p. 95.)

Indeed, the authorship, in part or wholly, of several of Shake-
speare's early plays, has been frequently called into question.
The generality of scholars favours the view that Titus Androni-
cus has been mistakenly ascribed to Shakespeare; that the
three parts of Henry VI. were slightly adapted, rather than
written, by Shakespeare; and that sundry other early plays of
his were more or less adaptations or imitations. These' dis-
cussions affect us fundamentally, for if scholars are divided in
opinion in respect of authorship of plays or part plays, the
self-evident implication is that there was only a measurable
difference and distinction between Shakespeare's dramatic-
efforts and those of his contemporaries. If he were really
unique, there could be no disagreement among experts.

In 1598 appeared Francis Meres' Palladis Taniia, wherein the
list of Shakespeare's plays to date is given, and where his work
is repeatedly and highly lauded. According to this volume,
Shakespeare was then already recognised as a first-class play-
wright and poet; but nevertheless his name appears frequently
in the lists placed lower than the names of others. There is
certainly no intimation in Meres that Shakespeare was in any
way unique, requiring to be classed apart. The subjoined quo-

70 PART II.— SOME IMPORTANT METHODOLOGICAL TERMS.

tations have a bearing on this subject, and are important because
they show Shakespeare in a variety of lights:—

"As the Greek tongue is made famous and eloquent by Homer . . .,
so the English tongue is mightily enriched, and gorgeously invested in
rare ornaments and resplendent habiliments by Sir Philip Sydney, Spenser,
Daniel, Drayton, Warner, Shakespeare, Marlowe, and Chapman. ... As the
soul of Euphorbus was thought to live in Pythagoras, so the sweet witty
soul of Ovid lives in mellifluous and honey-tongued Shakespeare, witness
his Venus and Adonis, his Lucrece, his sugared sonnets among his private
friends, etc. ... As Plautus and Seneca are accounted the best for Comedy
and Tragedy among the Latins, so Shakespeare among the English is the
most excellent in both kinds for the stage. [Mentions Titus Andronicus] . . .
As Epius Stolo said that the Muses would speak with Plautus' tongue, if
they would speak Latin, so I say that the Muses would speak with
Shakespeare's fine-filed phrase, if they would speak English. ... As
Horace says of himself, Eregi monumentum sere perennius, ... so say I
severally of Sir Philip Sydney's, Spenser's, Daniels', Drayton's, Shakespeare's,
and Warner's works. . . .

". . . [The best lyric poets are] Spenser, Daniel, Drayton, Shakespeare,
Bretton. . . . Our best for Tragedy, Lord Buckhurst, Dr. Leg, Dr. Edes,
Master Edward Ferris, the author of the Mirror for Magistrates, Marlow,
Peele, Watson, Kyd, Shakespeare, Drayton, Chapman, Dekker, and Benjamin
Johnson. . . . The best for Comedy amongst us be, Edward Earl of Oxford,
Dr. Gager, Master Rowley, Master Edwardes, eloquent and witty John Lilly,
Lodge, Gascoyne, Greene, Shakespeare, Thomas Nash, Thomas Heywood.
Anthony Mundy our best plotter, Chapman, Porter, Wilson, Hath way, and
Henry Chettle. . . . These are the most passionate among us to bewail
and bemoan the perplexities of love, Henry Howard Earl of Surrey, Sir
Thomas Wyatt the elder, Sir Francis Brian, Sir Philip Sydney, Sir Walter
Rawley, Sir Edward Dyer, Spenser, Daniel, Drayton, Shakespeare, Whetstone,
Gascoyne. Samuel Page, Churchyard, Bretton."

Shakespeare was not the sole successor to his predecessors.
On the contrary, there were a large number of successors, and
the evolution of the finer and superior type of play continued.
As a plain fact, there is nothing to suggest that Shakespeare
alone improved on the earlier dramatists, or that the other
dramatists were only servile imitators of his work. From all
the evidence at our disposal, we are forced to believe that
Shakespeare was classed with the other playwrights, and though
considered to be among the best, no one thought of proclaiming
him sovereign or greatly superior to all the others. The follow-
ing quotation from Webster's Preface to his White Devil well
illustrates the general attitude of his age towards him: —

"Detraction is the sworn friend to ignorance: for mine own part, I have
ever truly cherished my good opinion of other men's worthy labours;
especially of that full and heightened style of Master Chapman ; the la-
boured and understanding works of Master Jonson; the no less worthy
composures of the both worthily excellent Master Beaumont and Master
Fletcher; and lastly (without wrong last to be named), the right happy
and copious industry of Master Shakespeare, Master Dekker, and Master
Heywood."

On the negative side there is abundant evidence to prove
that, in his time, Shakespeare was not regarded as paramount
among dramatists. This view may appear to be in flagrant

SECTION 9.—OBSERVA TION. 7 1

contradiction with the commemorative verses of Ben Jonson
and of others prefixed to the first Folio, which verses would
lead one to assume that his leadership was generally recognised.
However, when we find that there were far more numerous
poems of the same kind published at the death of Ben Jonson,
and also in connection with the first Beaumont and Fletcher
Folio, it becomes manifest that either the judgment passed on
Shakespeare changed, which is a somewhat gratuitous assump-
tion, or that commemorative verses were apt to be couched in
superlatives. Here are a few examples culled to illustrate the
above, the first referring to Ben Jonson:—

"Great Jonson, king of English poetry."
''. . . wit's most triumphant monarch . . ."

"Look up! where Seneca and Sophocles,

Quick Plautus and sharp Aristophanes.

Enlighten yon bright orb ! doth not your eye,

Among them, one far larger fire descry,

At which their lights grow pale? 'tis Jonson, there

He shines your Star, who was your Pilot here."

"One still will spin, one wind, the other cut,
Yet in despight of spindle, clue and knife,
Thou, in thy strenuous lines, hast got a life,
Which, like thy bay, shall flourish every age,
While sock or buskin move upon the stage."

'"Though (to our grief) we ever must despair.
That any age can raise thee up an heir."

"Who without Latin helps hadst been as rare
As Beaumont, Fletcher, or as Shakespeare were."

"Though there be many that about her brow,
Like sparkling stone, might a quick lustre throw ;
Yet, Shakespeare, Beaumont, Jonson, these three shall
Make up the gem in the point vertical."

"Poet of princes, prince of poets . . ."

"Shakespeare may make grief merry, Beaumont's style

Ravish and melt anger into a smile;

In winter nights, or after meals they be,

I must confess, very good company:

But . . ."

"The marble glory of thy laboured rhyme
Shall live beyond the calendar of time."

"Thou shalt be read as classic authors; and,
As Greek and Latin, taught in every land."

"That Latin he reduced, and could command

That which your Shakespeare scarce could understand?"

72 PART II.— SOME IMPORTANT METHODOLOGICAL TERMS.

And hear the encomiums passed on Beaumont and Fletcher,
more particularly on the latter: —

"When Jonson, Shakespeare, and thyself did sit,

And swayed in the triumvirate of Wit.

Yet what from Jonson's oil and sweat did flow,

Or what more easy nature did bestow

On Shakespeare's gentle muse, in thee full grown

Their graces both appear."

''Fletcher (whose fame no age can ever waste;
Envy of ours, and glory of the last)."

"Shakespeare to fhee was dull . . ."

"None writes love's passions in the world like thee."

''Brave Shakespeare flow'd, yet had his ebbings too,
Often above himself, sometimes below;
Thou always best."

"Fletcher, the king of poets.". . .

''Thou grew'st to govern the whole stage alone."

Such was the verdict on Shakespeare, we may say, up to
the year 1642, when the stage suffered a complete eclipse which
lasted some eighteen years. A new world had been born when
the theatres were reopened after this prolonged and gloomy
pause. A whole generation had grown up without seeing any
plays performed, and the memory of the playgoers must have
been greatly dimmed, especially as the interval was crowded
with exciting political events. But this was only a minor matter.
The Court had returned from France, where Corneille deserv-
edly ruled the stage, imbued with classic notions regarding the
structure and contents of plays, notions which were in rather
violent contradiction with the "lawlesness" which characterised
the Elizabethan dramatists who knew nothing of the unities of
time, space, and plot, and the rigid separation of tragedy from
comedy. To the anti-puritans, too, the theatrical fare proffered
by the Elizabethan playwrights — far too strong for us— was
looked upon as decidedly puritanical. Accordingly, a radical
re-valuation of values took place, and the Elizabethan stage
seemed as if it belonged to antiquity, and this was emphasised
by the development of higher and more fastidious literary stand-
ards. Lastly, interest in music generally, and the opera in
particular, helped to divert the attention from the Elizabethan
dramatists.

In these circumstances only what was quite exceptional would
tend to escape the clutches of oblivion: broadly speaking,
Shakespeare, Ben Jonson, and Beaumont and Fletcher. From
that age we have Dryden's Essay on Dramatick Poesy. In this
work Jonson largely monopolises the space, Beaumont and
Fletcher are fairly frequently referred to, and Shakespeare

SECTION 9— OBSERVATION. 73

comparatively rarely. And yet, whilst by implication paying
deeper homage to Ben Jonson, and informing us that Beaumont
and Fletcher were greater stage favourites than Shakespeare,
two of their plays being performed for one of Shakespeare's,
a panegyric on Shakespeare appears which certainly is the
turning point in the fortunes of Shakespeare's fame. However,
the praise bestowed is hesitating. Summoning courage, Dryden
introduces the often quoted passage relating to Shakespeare,
by the following remark: "It will be still necessary to speak
somewhat of Shakespeare and Fletcher, [Ben Jonson's] rival
in poesy; and one of them, in my opinion at least, his equal,
perhaps his superior." (Ed. 1668, p. 47.) Dryden was, in fact, in
no sense an idolater, as witness the following passage : "I can-
not say he is everywhere alike. ... He is many times flat,
insipid; his comic wit degenerating into clenches, his serious
swelling into bombast." (Pp. 47-48.) "Shakespeare's language
is likewise a little obsolete."

A little later, in 1674, Edward Phillips, Milton's nephew, in
his Dictionary of Poets, speaks of a triumvirate consisting of
Ben Jonson, Fletcher, and Shakespeare, each excelling in cer-
tain directions.

To the end of the seventeenth century, there was no pro-
gress towards the recognition of Shakespeare's supremacy and
uniqueness. Before its close, Thomas Rhymer, who had already
unceremoniously examined Beaumont and Fletcher, turned his
attention to Shakespeare, and, in the same spirit, severely criti-
cised Shakespeare for a variety of defects in his dramatic
works, singling out Othello and Julius Caesar for dissection.
The eighteenth century repudiated Rhymer's negative attitude,
but accepted his criticism almost in its entirety. From Dryden,
until after Samuel Johnson, for approximately a century, the
editors and champions of Shakespeare tempered their enthu-
siasm with a scathing critique which would appear to most
Shakespeareans of to-day little short of blasphemous. Pope,
one of Shakespeare's first editors, did not mince his words, as
the following extracts from his edition of Shakespeare's works
show: —

"For of all English poets Shakespeare must be confessed to be the
fairest and fullest subject for criticism, and to afford the most numerous,
as well as most conspicuous instances, both of Beauties and Faults of all
sorts. ... It must be owned that with all these great excellencies, he has
almost as great defects; and that as he has certainly written better, so
he has perhaps written worse, than any other. . . . With all his faults, and
with all the irregularity of his drama. . . . Nor does the whole fail to
strike us with greater reverence, though many of the parts are childish,
ill-placed and unequal to its grandeur."

So Dr. Johnson, in the Preface to his edition of Shakespeare :—

"In tragedy he often writes with great appearance of toil and study,
what is written at last with little felicity; but in his comic scenes, he
seerns to produce without labour, what no labour can improve. In tra-

74 PART II.— SOME IMPORTANT METHODOLOGICAL TERMS.

gedy he is always struggling after some occasion to be comic, but in
comedy he seems to repose, or to luxuriate, as in a mode of thinking
congenial to his nature. In his tragic scenes there is always something
wanting, but his comedy often surpasses expectation or desire. . . . His
tragedy seems to be skill, his comedy to be instinct."

"Shakespeare, with his excellencies, has likewise faults, and faults
sufficient to obscure and overwhelm any other merit."

"The plots are often so loosely formed that a very slight consideration
may improve them, and so carelessly pursued, that he seems not always
fully to comprehend his own design."

"In his comic scenes he is seldom very successful, when he engages
his characters in reciprocations of smartness and contests of sarcasm ;
their jests are commonly gross and their pleasantry licentious; neither
his gentlemen nor his ladies have much delicacy, nor are sufficiently
distinguished from his clowns by any appearance of refined manners."

"In narration he affects a disproportionate pomp of diction and a weari-
some train of circumlocution, and tells the incident imperfectly in many
words, which might have been more plainly delivered in few."

And much more to the same effect.

In 1709 Rowe published an edition of Shakespeare's plays in
a number of volumes, prefacing it with a life of the author.
This "life", mostly based on traditions, did much to direct
attention to Shakespeare, and to spread his fame. We observe
here an interesting psychological reaction. The emphasis on
Shakespeare's humble origin and reputed lack of learning
magnified by contrast his dramatic achievements, and fixed
men's regards on him. His deficiencies cried out for an ex-
planation and evoked sympathy. They attracted scholars to
the interesting task of elucidating the work of that precocious
child of nature.

A series of critical editions of Shakespeare's plays was the
result, all introduced by very readable prefaces. The latter
dilate on Shakespeare's genius, but also on his ignorance of
the classics, his frequent lapses, his numerous imperfections,
and the corruptions and obscurities of the text of his plays.
The comparison is always between Shakespeare and the an-
cients, and references to other Elizabethan playwrights are not
only extremely rare, but there is every indication that, apart
from, Ben Jonson and Beaumont and Fletcher, the plays of the
Elizabethans were unknown, copies of their works being pro-
bably inaccessible to the editors in those days when there were
no great public libraries. In this we are supported by the fact
that all the high qualities which Dr. Johnson ascribes to Shake-
speare are qualities generically distinguishing the Elizabethan
and Jacobean drama.

Eighteenth century England found its energies only equal to
the task of critically studying one author, the number of com-
petent scholars being presumably too small to attempt the further
task of doing justice to other Elizabethan dramatists. Several
editions of Beaumont and Fletcher were published during the
century, but scholardom had no time left for examining the works
of these authors.

SECTION 9.—OBSERVA TION. 75

The succession of Shakespeare editors kept Shakespeare alive,
and contributed indirectly towards burying the other Elizabethan
playwrights. This double action had another serious conse-
quence. The already appreciated Shakespeare found a still
more effective populariser in Garrick, the intellectual actor-
manager. What the scholars planted, he brought to fruition,
the limelight of the stage incidentally still further obscuring
the neglected Elizabethans.

Criticism had done its best or worst, and scholars turned from
criticism to appreciation. Here was ample scope for the analytic
faculty and for literary taste. With the other Elizabethan drama-
tists many feet below the soil of time, Shakespeare's plays
appeared justly so marvellous that criticism — carping or judi-
cious—ceased, and the present-day wholehearted Shakespeare
worship was slowly ushered into the world.

However, Shakespeare was destined to find his greatest ad-
mirers abroad. The growing romantic movement of the later
eighteenth century in Germany was irresistibly attracted to
Shakespeare, and since the Elizabethan dramatists generally,
and the subsequent English criticism, were unknown to the
Germans, they could abandon themselves to unrestrained ido-
latry. Germany is thus said to have "discovered" Shakespeare;
England, with Charles Lamb, Coleridge, and Wordsworth, rather
tamely and lamely following.

Charles Lamb, in his Specimens of the English Dramatic
Poets, sought to direct attention to the priceless treasures
embedded in many of the Elizabethan playwrights, and opened
thereby a new era. The pendulum, however, had swung too
far away from the centre of sanity. Shakespeare having
become men's idol, any resemblance to him was regarded
as puerile imitation, and any difference as an unwarrantable
departure from the ideal norm. Accordingly, Shakespeare,
contrary to the views marking his own age. and those of the
leading literary men of the eighteenth century, was regarded
as incomparable and as infinitely superior to the other Eliza-
bethan playwrights. Lamb's example exercised little influence,
and Swinburne's later series of appreciations were widely
ignored or discounted. The comparative method was hence
almost entirely neglected. For all intents and purposes, for
instance, Sir Sidney Lee's Life of Shakespeare, the articles on
Shakespeare in the Dictionary of National Biography, and the
chapters on Shakespeare in the Cambridge History of English
Literature — that is, our leading sources in Shakespeare criti-
cism— ignore the comparative method. For these writers, and
they are strictly typical of our time, with the laudable exception
of Professor Ward, Shakespeare lived and wrought as if no
other playwright of any distinction had existed in his day.

We perceive that there is a very slender factual basis for this
extraordinary attitude in our generation towards Shakespeare

76 PART II. -SOME IMPORTANT METHODOLOGICAL TERMS.

and his fellows. His own time did not think of singling him out
as overwhelmingly superior and altogether different, nor did the
remainder of the seventeenth century. The first seventy years
of the eighteenth century recognised numerous limitations in
Shakespeare, and made no attempt at a comparative study of
the Elizabethan dramatists. The Germans of the same century
were without the necessary material for forming a discriminat-
ing judgment. And, similarly, the view prevalent to-day is
equally not the result of a sober, or even tentative, compara-
tive estimate of Shakespeare and his fellows.

We have therefore no reason for surmising that the present
verdict on Shakespeare will be the final verdict of history.
For example, whilst Shakespeare is regarded as unapproachable,
and towering sky-high above his fellows, we are presented with
the ludicrous spectacle of interminable discussions as to whether
a play or a part of a play attributed to Shakespeare is his. Some
critics, for instance, assert that certain portions of The Two
Noble Kinsmen could only have been written by Shakespeare.,
whereas other orthodox Shakespeareans deny this flatly. On
the other hand, parts of Henry VIII. , which had been singled out
as characteristic of Shakespeare at his best, are now admitted
to be by another playwright. Over a dozen plays of Shake-
speare have thus given rise to keen discussions regarding the
genuineness of certain portions thereof, without a clear, let
alone an instantaneous, verdict on the issue having been arrived
at. The doctrine of the uniqueness of Shakespeare may be
therefore an irrational dogma that has no relation to fact, and
is possibly due to comparatively uncritical thought and feeling
which further study is bound to destroy.

The final pronouncement of history cannot far depart from
the estimate of his time. We ought to think of Shakespeare
as belonging to a great age, and as, on the whole, expressing
it slightly better than his fellow dramatists, whilst not un-
frequently falling below the others, and fairly frequently having
his best equalled. From the scientific standpoint the glory
belongs first and foremost to the Elizabethan drama as such,
or even more to his times which were directly responsible
for evoking this outburst of unparalleled dramatic splendour.
Critically considered, scarcely a characteristic in Shakespeare
can be mentioned which is not a characteristic of his time and
his fellow playwrights. The glowing panegyric extending over
several pages, which Johnson, in the Preface to his Shakespeare
edition, pronounced on Shakespeare, would hold true no less
of Beaumont and Fletcher and a number of other Elizabethan
and Jacobean playwrights. Another apt illustration is to be
found in Robert Greene's James the Fourth, published anterior
to any of Shakespeare's plays, which offers a surprising example
of what is said to be most distinctive of Shakespeare. Verse,
plot, motivation, men, women, humour, poetry, insight, philo-

SECTION 9.—OBSERVA TION. 7 7

sophy, are exact anticipations of Shakespeare, and, but for the
unavoidably primitive verse and its consequences, the play
is superior to sundry of Shakespeare's earlier works.

Shakespeare soars immeasurably above what our present-day
drama offers, because our drama is immeasurably inferior to
the drama of Shakespeare's time. What has been asserted of
his plays by perfervid admirers is roughly correct; but the
true author of these plays was an age, and not an individual.
This explains why his age failed to take our age's view of
Shakespeare, and why he himself appeared to be unconscious
of greatness, and lived and died conventionally.

The Shakespeare problem offers accordingly a superb illus-
tration of the indispensability of an exhaustive study of facts
when a serious issue is to be elucidated, and the fatal effects of
striving to remove difficulties by speculative considerations.

§ 24. Where, then, a process is highly complex, such as
that of observation, the doctrine of method must needs frame
or discover canons which shall effectively deal with this pro-
cess. Else the other canons will be infected at the source.
The perfection of the process of observation should be con-
ceived accordingly as the corner stone of the correct method
of investigation.1 Scientific advance has meant keener and
keener, closer and closer, wider and wider, more and more
varied, observation. Of course, where much scientific obser-
vation has preceded the initiation of an enquiry into a certain
subject, we may postulate much ; and it is exceptional illustra-
tions, drawn from highly developed and simple sciences, which
have deluded men into thinking that it is safe and profitable
to generalise on the basis of comparatively few instances. The
opposite cases are disregarded where observation imposes a
gigantic task in a novel enquiry, rendering it impossible to gene-
ralise even tentatively, save after exceedingly wide and varied
observation by many persons under changing conditions of time,
place, motive, habit, or other circumstances.

If what appears to us a "natural" object is — as we have learnt
in the preceding Section — a highly "artificial" and largely arbi-
trary product of the mind, it is truer still that observation, whose
scope is much ampler, entails as a rule extensive mental activities.
We might define the process of observation as that part of an
enquiry which aims primarily at the accurate determination of
detailed facts. If many logicians only burn incense before the
altar of deduction, and reason that a bold guess and subsequent
verification represent the true method of science, a study of
contemporary scientific procedure will convict them of being
idolaters. As a matter of fact, the weather-stained bones of slain
theories, which thickly strew the fields of history, should make

l>We are not to imagine or suppose, but to discover, what nature does
or may be made to do." (Bacon, Novnm Organum, bk, 2, 10.)

78 PART II.— SOME IMPORTANT METHODOLOGICAL TERMS.

it evident that nothing is gained and everything is hazarded by
obstinately clinging to a superstition wofully at war with reality.
The further science advances, the more patent it will become
that it is capital folly to ground a generalisation on aught but
exhaustively studied data.

The leading facts of nature are complex beyond anything anticipated
by those who extol to the heavens the deductive method. Take, for
example, the effect of the radiant heat of the sun on the different sur-
faces whereon it strikes. "The greatest contrasts are found between land
and water surfaces. If the solar radiation fall on a water surface, the
absorption in the uppermost layers of the water is not nearly so complete
as is the case with a land surface. The water is transparent to some of
the radiation which therefore passes through it to be gradually absorbed
by the lower layers. The heat is thus more widely distributed, and the
rise of temperature in the surface layers is proportionately reduced. Still
more important is the fact that water has a much greater so-called specific
heat than soil or rock — that is to say, a much greater amount of heat has
to be absorbed by a pound of water than by a pound of earth to produce
a given rise of temperature. The net result is that the surface layer of
the water is warmed very much less than the land surface," and, as a result,
the air above the water is also warmed to a less degree. On the other
hand, at night time, a water surface radiates less heat into space than a
land surface under similar circumstances would do. Moreover, any cooling
which may take place at once calls into play convection processes in the
water itself. The cooled water becomes more dense and sinks, and warmer
water from below takes its place. Thus there is a great tendency for a
water surface to remain at a more or less constant temperature both by
day and by night, and for the changes of temperature due to changes
of season to be reduced in magnitude. This difference in the behaviour
of a water surface and a land surface has a most important climatic
effect. . . ." (R.G.K. Lempfert, op. c/Y., pp. 16-17.)

Even more striking is the fact of hibernation, since it demonstrates the
folly of rash generalising and abstract deductive reasoning: —

"As far as mammals are concerned, the following are the principal
facts established: (1) All northern species, even those which find food
scarce during winter, do not hibernate, nor do all the species of the same
family, order, or genus. Even both sexes of the same species do not
always agree in this respect. The bear, the badger, the dormouse, the
hamster, the bat, the marmot, the zizel, and the hedgehog are among the
best known and most pronounced hibernators. But while all the burrow-
ing marmots, whistlers, woodchucks, ground-hogs, etc., are more or Jess
complete hibernators, the Alpine marmots indulge in this habit by fits
and starts. The sloth bear and other Indian UrsidaB differ from the other
members of their family in remaining awake during winter, though they
are sluggish during this season, moving about very little, and then only
occasionally when they require food ; and both the black and brown bear
of the Rocky Mountains and the polar bear are strict hibernators only
as regards their females, the male being often seen at large between
November and May. Most of the American squirrels differ from the
European species in being non-hibernating. (2) The same animal may
vary in this respect in different portions of its range. Thus, though the
American skunks are in the northern part of the region over which they
roam more or less complete hibernators, they get more and more wakeful
as their range extends equatorially, until in the most southern part of it
they move about freely at all seasons of the year. In like manner, the
prairie 'dog', or marmot, in the northern plains retires to sleep during
severe weather, as do also the woodchucks of the same region, but in
open winters and on pleasant days they display no such tendency; while
in the extreme southern limits of their range they are not hibernators

SECTION 9.—OBSERVA TION. 79

at all. (3) They do not all retire at the same time. Most of the true
hibernators take to their 'hibernaculum', or winter hole — a burrow, a
hollow tree, a cave, the eaves of a house, or similar situation — in late
autumn, varying the date slightly according to weather. But the great
bat is rarely seen after September, and often retires as early as the end
of July, when its insect food is abundant. (4) All of them do not sleep
the same length of time, or with the same torpidity, and several indulge
in hibernation and waking alternatively during the winter. The squirrel,
in Britain, lies dormant most of the cold season; but on sunshiny days
it often wakes, visits its hoards of food, eats freely, and then retires to
rest again. The hedgehog is sometimes S3en during the winter; and on
sunshiny days the common bat often emerges from its hibernaculum, and
flits about even when snow is on the ground. The dormouse also at
intervals wakes up, eats, and goes to sleep. Other animals, like the long-
tailed field-mouse, pass the winter in a drowsy state not far removed
from dormancy. There are thus all gradations between continuous winter
dormancy and the ordinary daily sleep of a few hours in which every
animal indulges. There is also every degree of torpidity exhibited. The
hedgehog and the dormouse may be rolled over and over like a ball,
without waking, and the black bear of America is extremely difficult to
arouse out of its winter' sleep. On the other hand, the brown bear of
Siberia hibernates lightly, and is very dangerous when awakened. The
hedgehog, if disturbed, 'takes a deep sonorous inspiration followed by a
few feeble respirations, and then by total quiescence'. This differs from
the stirring and then coiling itself up again which is the animal's way
when awakened out of an ordinary sleep. But, though sensation and
volition are dormant, the reflex and excitor-motory actions are keen, the
slightest touch applied to the spine of a hedgehog or to the wings of a
bat inducing one or two inspiratory movements. But the hibernating
badger is not difficult to reawake, and in its torpor, like all hibernating
animals, is not rigid. (5) Continuous hibernators do not lay in stores of
food. Intermittent winter-sleepers generally do, while some animals which
are not true hibernators, but remain only drowsy during the winter,
retire to their burrows to pass the days of famine above ground
amidst their abundant nuts and other provender. All of these food-storers
are vegetable-eaters. The arctic fox is indeed the only exception to this
rule, for though it is not any more than the beaver a hibernator, it hoards
up dead lemmings, ermines, geese, hares, etc., against the evil days of
winter. An exception to intermittent hibemators being thus provident is
afforded by the porcupine and the alpine marmot." (Chambers' Ency-
clopaedia, article '"Hibernation", by Robert Browne.)

An eloquent defence of observation as an invaluable scientific
asset is contained in a paper on "The Characteristics of the
Observational Sciences", which was read before the British Asso-
ciation in 1911 by Prof. H.H. Turner, President of the Mathe-
matics Section. Prof. Turner admirably expresses the point of
view we adopt: —

"The perception of the need for observations, the faith that something
will come of them, and skill and energy to act on that faith — these
qualities, all of which are possessed by any observer worthy the name,
have at least as much to do with the advance of Science as the formula-
tion of a theory, even of a correct theory. The work of the observer is
often forgotten — it lies at the root of the plant; it is easier to notice the
theories which blossom, and ultimately produce the fruit. But without
the patient work of the observer underground there would be neither
blossom nor fruit."

80 PART II— SOME IMPORTANT METHODOLOGICAL TERMS.

SECTION X. -EXPERIMENT AND USE OF INSTRUMENTS.

§ 25. A decided approach towards experiment is made
where an action is intentionally performed in order to ascertain
the results— where, for instance, I seek to recall a landscape
for the purpose of observing what can be recalled; where I
shut my eyes to note whether anything is visible with eyes
closed; where I pull at a heavy piece of furniture to study
the nature of the feeling of effort; where I pinch myself to
learn something concerning pain; where, with one hand, I play
with two pebbles for some time, throwing them successively
up into the air, and endeavour to catch them in the same hand
as they fall, in order to learn something of the development of a
habit; where I speak now gently and now sternly to a child,
to the end of determining which course is the most effectual;
and so on.

Experiments of this order are unsystematic in nature, and
the proof lacks exact determination. They are experiments
belonging to the pre-scientific stage, and only become veritably
trustworthy when the conditions are clearly defined and
systematically varied. Scientific experiment, in other words,
is systematic observation under conditions as far as possible
precisely defined and systematically varied and measured.
When, for example, we combine certain known chemical
elements present in a known proportion by means of special
apparatus which enables us to obtain exact quantitative results,
we experiment, in the scientific sense of the term.1 The value
of such quantitative ' determination is often one of indirect
importance, inasmuch as its object may be to lend precision
to a statement which might aid us in obtaining reliable de-
ductions.

Pre-scientific experiments have, as a rule, relatively small
scientific value. On the other hand, methodical observation
closely approaches scientific experiment. To examine a plant
species in the sunlight, in the shade, at night, when it is
raining, in varying temperatures, soils, altitudes, and climates,
and at different seasons, is virtually equivalent to producing
the conditions artificially. It was, therefore, an inadequate
conception of the process of observation which condemned
observation as being wellnigh useless and unscientific, whilst
lauding to the skies the employment of experiment. The
genuine comparison is between pre-scientific observation and
pre-scientific experiment; and if this be conceded, indiscriminate
contempt for observation is as gratuitous as indiscriminate
commendation of experiment.- Scientific experiment forms an

1 Jevons has several excellent chapters on quantitative determination in
his Principles of Science.

- "At Greenwich Observatory in the present day, the hundredth part of
a second is not thought an inconsiderable portion of time. The ancient

SECTION 10.- EXPERIMENT AND USE OF INSTRUMENTS. 81

extension of scientific observation, and constitutes really only
a refinement thereof. As a matter of fact, the more conclusive
kind of experiment is of recent origin, and many of the historic
truths have been reached by rough trials. Newton's investiga-
tions into the nature of light were not conducted by means of
elaborate apparatus. Franklin's kite or his pieces of variously
coloured cloths do not suggest modern experiments; and
Darwin's delightful study was anything but an up-to-date
laboratory.

The special object of methodical experiment is to obtain
assured knowledge of quantity, properties, cause and effect,

Chaldeans recorded an eclipse to the nearest hour, and the early Alexandrian
astronomers thought it superfluous to distinguish between the edge and
centre of the sun." (Jevons, Principles of Science, p. 271.) Psychologists
now resort to chronometers indicating the one-thousandth part of a second.
The best telescopes reveal a hundred million stars where sight disclosed
only about eight thousand, and where, with the aid of auxiliary photographic
processes, a thousand million may be registered. Spectrum analysis records
the 400-millionth of a grain. A good balance, containing in each pan about
a kilogramme, will indicate a difference of one-ten-thousandth of a grain.
The most efficient measuring machines will measure the millionth part of
an inch. There is literally no term to the refinement of instrumental
measurement. Where the unassisted eye detected a little over half a
dozen planets, five hundred are now known. With platinum resistance
thermometers "at ordinary temperatures the difference of temperature of
one-ten-thousandth of a degree can be deducted with moderate ease, while,
with great precautions, the hundred-thousandth of a degree can be esti-
mated". (Whetham, The Recent Development of Physical Science, 1906,
P- 71.)

''Ordinary microscopical observation with the strongest lenses can show
particles of about 250 /m in diameter. We call particles of and above this
size microns. The ultramicroscope makes particles visible even down to
the size of 6 ,«/', provided that the power of light applied is strong enough.
Such particles' are called submicrons." Those below this size are named
amicrons. (Frederick Czapek, Chemical Phenomena in Life, 1911, pp. 25-26.)
"Microtomes of the best workmanship have placed in the hands of histologists
the means of making serial sections of remarkable thinness and regularity."
(W. A. Locy, op. cit., p. 438.) "With our present instruments we can perceive
lines ruled on glass which are 1/90,000 of an inch apart. ... If ... we could
use the blue rays by themselves, their waves being much shorter, the limits
of possible visibility might be extended to 1 120,000." (C. S. Minot, The
Problem of Age, Growth, and Death, 1908, pp. 189-190.)

"The number of rods and 'cones in the human eye is enormous. At a
moderate computation the cones may be estimated at over 3,000,000, and
the rods at 30,000,000. (Lord Avebury, On the Senses, Instincts, and Intelli-
gence of Animals, with special reference to Insects", p. 123.) "Though not
thicker than a sheet of thin paper, [the retina] consists of no less than nine
separate layers." (fbid., p. 122.) "According to the view of Helmholtz, the
smallest particle that could be distinctly defined, when associated with
others, is about 1 80,000th of an inch in diameter. Now, it has been estimated
that a particle of albumen of this size contains 125,000,000 of molecules.
In the case of such a simple compound as water, the number would be no
less than 8,000,000,000." (Ibid., p. 190.)

"If we imagine a number of hydrogen molecules placed end to end, it
would require fifty millions of them to form a row one centimeter in length."
(W. C. McC. Lewis, "The Structure of Matter", in Science Progress, January,
1918, pp. 477-478.)

6

82 PART II.— SOME IMPORTANT METHODOLOGICAL TERMS.

relations, presence or absence of particular substances, etc.J
and in devising such experiments the utmost precautions are
required to secure a decisive result free from all complications
and entirely unequivocal. A scientific experiment of a high
order may be defined as consisting of observation or registration
of a methodical character by means of carefully constructed
apparatus under deliberately selected and varied conditions.-
Experiment, for instance, of a non-instrumental character,
but not less rigorous, is urgently needed in certain departments
of natural history. Books without number have been published
concerning the mentality of animals, and yet certainty in this
matter completely escapes us. What is required is systemati-
cally to observe dogs, cats, fowl, and other domesticated animals,
common birds, etc., preferably one male and one unrelated
female together (in order to include activities connected with
the perpetuation of the species and the rearing of offspring)
from birth to a natural death, in an environment where no
other members of the same or closely related species exist in
the vicinity, and to chronicle faithfully and intelligently the
behaviour of the individuals thus isolated. It seems almost

1 For a list of the general characteristics of phenomena, see the Table of
Primary Categories in Conclusion 3.

2 "Experience may be acquired in two ways: either, first, by noticing facts
as they occur, without any attempt to influence the frequency of their
occurrence, or to vary the circumstances under which they occur; this is
Observation; or, secondly, by putting in action causes and agents over which
we have control, and purposely varying their combinations, and noticing
what effects take place; this is Experiment." (Sir John Herschel, Discourse,
[67.].) "Passive and active observation might better express their distinction."
(Ibid.)

"Observation is finding a fact, experiment is making one " (Bain, Logic,
vol. 2, p. 43.)

"When we merely note and record the phenomena which occur around
us in the ordinary course of nature we are said to observe. When we
change the course of nature, by the intervention of our muscular ppwers,
and thus produce unusual combinations and conditions of phenomena, we
are said to experiment. . . . Experiment is thus observation plus alteration
of conditions." (Jevons, Principles of Science, p. 400.) "One of the most
requisite precautions in experimentation is to vary only one circumstance
at a time, and to maintain all other circumstances rigidly unchanged."
(Ibid., p. 422.) "One of the great objects of experiment is to enable us to
judge of the behaviour of substances under conditions widely different from
those which prevail upon the surface of the earth." (Ibid., p. 426.)

"Experiment is the practical means by which we furnish ourselves with
observations in such number, and involving such mutual differences and
affinities, as is requisite in order to the elimination of what is unessential
in them and the derivation from them of a pure case." (Lotze, Logic, vol. 2,
pp. 39-40.)

" Scientific experiment, therefore, is scientific observation performed under
accurately known artificial conditions." (Huxley, Introductory, 1900, p. 17.)

"Experiment is observation under artificial conditions." (Bosanquet, Logic,
vol. 1, p. 143.) "Experiment would usually be considered to begin where
we pass from intentional selection of our standpoint, and from the use of
contrivances auxiliary to perception, to actual analytic interference with the
object under observation." (Ibid., p. 143.)

SECTION 10.— EXPERIMENT AND USE OF INSTRUMENTS. 83

impossible to believe — which incidentally and pointedly proves
the absence of an accepted methodology— that this should not
have been accomplished already. Once numerous observational
experiments of this character have been completed, and the
general mentality of the species has been ascertained, the
situation could be complicated by subjecting the animals to
artificial tests.

Instruments are not indispensable to experiment, though little
can be achieved without them. Galileo, in his experiments
from the leaning tower of Pisa, employed no specially devised
instruments, and many experiments in agriculture and legis-
lation, and in other departments of knowledge, are executed
without their assistance. Not a few of Darwin's experiments
possessed a homely character, and Galton's famous enquiry
relating to mental imagery was markedly simple and non-
instrumental.1 On the other hand, microscopes, telescopes,
spectroscopes, and a multitude of other aids, are employed in
observation, since instruments multiply the power and the
delicacy of the senses almost an infinite number of times.2
We may, consequently, distinguish between instrumental and
non-instrumental observation and experiment. In observation
neither the object observed nor its environment would be de-
signedly altered ; in experiment one or both would be affected.
Instruments, again, may be divided into scientific and non-
scientific ones. Scientific instruments are such as are carefully
calculated to attain the end aimed at in an easy, an exact,
and a measurable manner. Non-scientific instruments more or
less lack these qualifications. Determining the weight of a sub-
stance by weighing it respectively in the hands and on a tested
and sensitive pair of scales, may fix the distinction between
the two. It is somewhat difficult to define use and non-use
of instruments. For practical purposes, however, the above
definition of instrument is passable, especially when it is a
question of scientific instruments. Similarly the meaning of
change in object and environment is only subject to a minimum
of misconception, because our presence, for instance, may be
readily discounted: our weight; shadow thrown; the air altered

1 According to the Encycl. Brit, (llth ed.), so distinguished a modern
physicist as Lord Rayleigh did not despise simple experiments: "The ex-
perimental investigations are carried out with plain and usually home-made
apparatus, the accessories being crude and rough, but the essentials thought-
fully designed, so as to compass in the simplest and most perfect manner
the special end in view."

2 Interesting chapters on the use of instruments will be found in Jevons
and Venn. We shall cite a certain modern instrumental mode of procedure
because of its important bearings in palaeontological enquiry. "By means
of spreading mucilage and tissue paper over delicate bones that crumble on
exposure to the air, and the wrapping of fossils in plaster casts for trans-
portation, it has been made possible to uncover and preserve many struc-
tures which, with a rougher method of handling, would have been lost to
science." (W. A. Locy, op. cit., p. 340.)

84 PART II.— SOME IMPORTANT METHODOLOGICAL TERMS.

and agitated through our moving, breathing, and speaking ; dif-
fusion of bodily warmth; and the like circumstances. These
are, in any case, not deliberately produced transformations, and
are generally not impossible to guard against when we are
aware of them.1

Direct experiments cannot be resorted to in all forms of en-
quiry, as, for example, in astronomy or generally in geology.
Nor are they everywhere equally profitable. In the biological
sciences, where not only the same object differs materially at
different times and differs conspicuously from nearly related
objects— the protein of no two species appears to be identical
in composition, but where interrelations and interactions of a
most complicated order. obtain, as illustrated, for instance, by
the cerebro-spinal system in man, experiment is at a decided
disadvantage, and its results are frequently found to be of
questionable value. On the other hand, where, as in mechanics
and chemistry, the material investigated is, relatively to life
forms, homogeneous in character, experiment achieves its most
signal triumphs. For the same reason, experiment becomes
progressively more profitable as the material investigated is
simplified through accumulated discoveries, whereas its value
diminishes in proportion as the amorphous mass of primitive
fact and fancy is unsifted. These limitations to experimental
enquiries should warn the methodologist against presuming that
experiment can be applied ubiquitously, and that it is in all
circumstances alike of telling benefit; and, more than this, a
survey of the sciences should convince him that an extensive
domain exists at present where observation, with or without
instruments, is resorted to on a comprehensive scale and with
eminently gratifying results. Indeed, in many directions — as
in map and chart construction — the information required is
derived, solely almost, from exhaustive observation and mea-
surement.

Bacon had a just conception of experiment, and incessantly
had recourse thereto. What could be more complimentary to
those who believe in addressing pointed questions to nature
than this? "The subtlety of experiments is far greater than that
of the sense itself, even when assisted by exquisite instruments ;
such experiments, I mean, as are skilfully and artificially
devised for the express purpose of determining the point in

1 Venn, in his Logic, pp. 416-417, says on this subject: "Our bodies are
heavy, and, therefore, the mere approach to the machine has altered the
magnitude and direction of the resultant attraction upon the scales. Our
bodies are presumably warmer than the surrounding air; accordingly we
warm and therefore lighten the air in which the scales hang, and if the
two scales and their contents are not of the same volume we at once alter
their weight as measured in the air. Our breath produces disturbing currents
of air. Our approach affects the surface of the non-rigid floor or ground on
which the scales stand, and produces another source of disturbance, and so
on through the whole range of the physical forces."

SECTION 11.— CAUSAL ENQUIRIES. 85

question. To the immediate and proper perception of the sense,
therefore, I do not give much weight; but I contrive that the
office of the sense shall be only to judge of the experiment,
and that the experiment itself shall judge of the thing." (The
Great Instauration, Plan of the Work ; vol. 4, p. 26, of Spedding's
edition of Bacon's works.)

The confusion enveloping the subject of experiment in relation
to observation is due, we should remember, to historical causes.
The modern idea of scientific observation is the product of a
protracted evolution. None of the ancients, not even Lucretius,
suspected the complexity of the process. To observe with micro-
scopic minuteness, for a prolonged period, under exhaustively
varying circumstances of space and other conditions, was only
slowly suggested by historic experience, so much so that even
now our conception of observation grows in profundity with
every decade. Moreover, the instruments which greatly increase
our powers of observation are a comparatively recent and still
growing acquisition, just as the lack, danger, and impossibility
of extensive intercommunication over prodigious distances, nar-
rowly limited an enquiry. So with experiment. To Roger Bacon,
the idea of appealing to experience appeared to embody a high
methodological ideal, and the notion of experiment was scarcely
distinguished from experiencing even by Leonardo da Vinci.1
Experience itself had only partially the objective character we
attribute to it to-day. Similarly, the modern idea of a scientific
experiment has a long history. In Francis Bacon's time it had
already developed to no mean degree, as is illustrated by Gil-
bert's treatise, De Magneto, and by Galileo's labours generally.
And since his day, both on the side of method and of instru-
ments, there has been ceaseless improvement. Accordingly, it
is futile to examine the subject before us, save in the light of
history, in which case the ground is cut beneath the contro-
versy, and mutual appreciation follows mutual recrimination.

SECTION XL— CAUSAL ENQUIRIES.

§ 26. (a) Importance of Causal Enquiries.— The object of
science is to determine unequivocally the nature and relations
of animate and inanimate objects and of psychic phenomena,
and one of the most important relations is unquestionably that
of cause. Indeed, to know precisely the cause of a phenomenon
is to be acquainted precisely with two facts— the phenomenon
which is the effect and another in so far as it is the cause.
Objects of which we do not establish the cause are, as it were,
suspended by invisible cords, and the progress of knowledge
demands that facts shall not appear isolated. We inquire there-
fore into the cause of the cohesion and repulsion of particles

1 J. V. Marmery, op. cit.

86 PART II.— SOME IMPORTANT METHODOLOGICAL TERMS.

and masses; of chemical, crystalline, vital, and moral action;
of the origin of States and civilisations ; of the development of
the arts and the appreciation of the beautiful; and we cannot
rest satisfied until the causes are made plain to us. At the
same time our insight into causes must be exact and relatively
exhaustive, if it is to possess scientific validity. Any one may
be convinced that he feels hot because he closely faces a coal
fire fiercely burning in an open grate, or because he is exposed
to the scorching rays of a tropical sun; but such a legitimate
conviction leaves him in nearly complete ignorance of his own
physical being and of the nature of the coal fire, the sun, or
the heat. So, too, nations may empirically discover a tolerably
satisfactory diet, or physicians may prescribe dietaries, etc.,
having decidedly beneficial effects; but the unveiling of the
actual causes has revolutionary consequences both in practice
and theory. It is only, therefore, when we know precisely and
circumstantially the nature of the cause and of the effect of a
phenomenon, e.g., the relation of ruminating to cloven hoofs,
that we are confronted by a truth which has scientific signi-
ficance. On this account, the causal aspect is to be regarded
as one of a number of indispensable aspects to be examined
in any general enquiry.

§ 27. (b) The Causal View of Nature. — The causal view of
nature conceives the world from the standpoint of time and
virtually disregards all other phases. We see, in this panorama,
one phenomenon producing a change in another ad indefinitum.
This is a possible and an important standpoint; but it cannot
be said to be the only one possible or of importance. Such a
conception involves that we think of facts as consisting of in-
variable and necessary antecedents and consequents without
defining the antecedents and consequents — inquiring, say, into
the cause of heat without determining the nature of heat. It
misses, that is, the reverse side, the present constitution of the
objects which are changing or are to be changed, unless the
world is dissolved into featureless forces, whiqh Mill does not
contemplate, and which is a barren conception from the angle
of the investigator of to-day. The dynamic view of nature
must be therefore supplemented by a static view of nature.1

§ 28. (c) Static Aspects. — Since, as we have just seen, science
needs be first conversant to a certain degree about phenomena
in their quasi-static aspects, before it becomes curious con-

1 A full discussion of the implications of the term Cause, from the causal-
istic standpoint, will be found in Mill. According to him "the invariable
[or rather "unconditional invariable"] antecedent is termed the cause; the
invariable consequent, the effect" (Logic, bk. 3, ch. 5, §2); "the notion of
Cause" is "the root of the whole theory of Induction" (ibid.); and "to
ascertain what are the laws of causation which exist in nature; to determine
the effect of every cause, and the causes of all effects, is the main business
of Induction; and to point out how this is done is the chief object of In-
ductive Logic". (Logic, bk. 3, ch. 6, § 3.)

SECTION 11,-CAUSAL ENQUIRIES. 87

cerning their causes, it cannot be said to deal exclusively with
the latter. A review of modern science appears to confirm
this. The determination of the nature and contents of geo-
logical strata ; of the distribution of sea and land, of mountain
ranges, earthquakes, and of volcanic craters and areas ; or the
attempt to produce and reduce organic compounds, and ascer-
tain their qualities and their internal arrangement, and to dis-
cover the existential relations of the elements; or the efforts
to ascertain the composition and the structure of protoplasm,
the cell nucleus, and the cytoplasm; or the investigations into
the nature of magnetic and electrical phenomena, or those
connected with the origin and evolution of life and of human
societies— all imply that men of science are frequently employed
in discovering and in precisely defining properties, quantities,
composition, and the like, of objects, as distinguished from
causes.

§ 29. (d) Facts should be studied both Statically and Dyna-
mically.—When a student examines a phenomenon, he strives
to understand it in all its aspects. The relation of this pheno-
menon to other phenomena, and its origin, development, in-
fluence, transformation, and end, form an integral portion of
the aim of his study. He who on principle only studied facts
statically or dynamically, would represent a caricature of the
man of science. Ultimately, therefore, scientific enquiries cannot
be divided into static and dynamic ones — those concerned with
the discovery of laws of nature and the causal explanation of
facts, nor can we, generally speaking, separate static from
dynamic fact. The office of the investigator is to comprehend
phenomena in all their particularity and bearings, and not only
to determine the law of their succession. Mill's insistence on
the causal element, to which alone his Canons have reference,
is probably due to his eminent predecessor, Herschel, who
himself follows Bacon therein. According to Herschel, "the
first thing that a philosophic mind considers when any new
phenomenon presents itself is its explanation, or reference to
an immediate producing cause". (Discourse, [137.].) But the
nature of the "new phenomenon" needs to be determined
with fair accuracy before we search for its explanation; else
we are ignorant of what it is we are seeking the explanation of.

§ 30. (e) Facts and their Relations. — The study of a phe-
nomenon entails the study of its relations to preceding, accom-
panying, and succeeding phenomena. Whatever causes are at
work, will be thus laid bare in the course of its examination.

§ 31. (/) Introductory Study of Static Aspects. — From the
foregoing considerations it follows that so long as the principal
static elements of a phenomenon are not ascertained, the
phenomenon's relations to other phenomena or to its past and
future will be almost certainly shrouded in obscurity. Hence
the study of causes should be normally preceded by an intro-

88 PART II.— SOME IMPORTANT METHODOLOGICAL TERMS.

ductory study of the chief static aspects of the phenomenon
investigated.

§ 32. (g) Far-reaching Antecedents.— Finally, we must aim
at discovering far-reaching antecedents, because a vast collection
of trifling causes is as untractable and unsatisfactory methodo-
logically as a similar number of static facts and generalisations
of an equally restricted order. (Conclusion 25.) Science, that
is, seeks primarily to discover universal facts, or such as have
a high degree of generality: The process of generalisation
passed over in Mill's Canons, should enter therefore to a vital
extent into the conduct of any causal enquiry.

§33. (/*) Study of Effects.— Nor should we overlook the
importance, methodologically, of studying effects, or causes as
effects and effects as causes.

§ 34. (/) The Methodological Meaning of the term Cause.—
It is difficult to over-estimate the value of the discriminations
precipitated in names. Men have reasoned ever since the
dawn of humanity's career, and animals, in fact, also reason.
But it is one thing, in a desperate way, to grope for and stumble
on the truth, and quite another thing with deliberation and
method calmly to proceed to its conquest. The latter presupposes
a gradually developed terminology containing gradually attained
and clarified discriminations. The word Method thus suggests
that we should proceed methodically, a thought which is the
ultimate outcome of much strenuous experience and reflection.
And if instead of humbly and clumsily striving after some
dimly apprehended object, we speak of truth and of proof, or
of observation, generalisation, definition, and so forth, and
arrange them in a rigorously synthetic order, as in Conclusions 14
to 35, we are aware of having stripped off our animality
and having become men who can see, and know that they
can see, almost infinitely beyond the animal's horizon. In this
sense the word Cause embodies a profound methodological
discrimination. Deprived of this word and its meaning, we
should be tempted to analyse objects or follow processes without
noting that we had ignored a category capable of enormously
simplifying and rationalising our mental labours. We might
be satisfied with determining the accidental relations of uni-
formities, and thus miss an insight into their crucially important
permanent and necessary connections. If, therefore, we depre-
cate over-emphasis of the causal viewpoint, it is only because
it is also methodologically imperious to mete out justice to the
various other methodological discriminations arrived at by
mankind. In methodology, as in all other spheres of life, we
should beware against being biassed in favour of some frac-
tional part of a whole.

We conclude, therefore, that an ordinary causal enquiry is
an enquiry into the more important unconditional and invariable
antecedents of certain phenomena.

SECTION 12.— HYPOTHESES. 89

SECTION XII.— HYPOTHESES.

§ 35. Consistently with the different views Bacon and Mill
adopt concerning the method to be employed in investigating
data, they disagree in the value to be assigned to hypotheses,
for whereas the former denounced hypotheses not based on
an extensive and diversified examination of facts, the latter
considered spontaneously arisen hypotheses the main instrument
of scientific advance. Jevons and most later logicians agree
with Mill, though it is strange that no determined effort should
have been made by these logicians to ascertain exactly and
in detail the process of arriving at a hypothesis. We know
how vigorously Newton denounced recourse to conjectures not
suggested by a responsible study of facts, and yet, by a per-
verse fate, the idlest of idle legends is eternally reiterated
to the effect that Newton derived his conception of the law
of gravitation from perceiving an apple fall while a youth.
Hypotheses are not only figured to-day by many logicians as
the sine qua non of science : they are looked upon as offering
almost the sole device for extending truth. In vain have
scholars like Herschel protested that "the liberty of specula-
tion which we possess in the domains of theory is not like
the wild licence of the slave broke loose from his fetters, but
rather like that of the freeman who has learned the lessons
of self-restraint in the school of just subordination". (Discourse,
[201.].) The protests have roused no echo, and the solid ob-
servational activities of the man of science have been placidly
ignored.

What is a hypothesis?1 We may define it as a plausible con-
jecture suggested by a careful preliminary examination, for which

1 "An hypothesis is any supposition which we make (either without
actual evidence, or on evidence avowedly insufficient) in order to endea-
vour to deduce from it conclusions in accordance with facts which are
known to be real ; under the idea that if the conclusions to which the
hypothesis leads are known truths, the hypothesis itself either must be,
or at least is likely to be, true." (Mill, Logic, bk. 3, ch. 14, § 4.)

"Hypothesen im wissenschaftlichen Sinne sind weder Tatsachen noch
\villkiirliche und unbegriindete Annahmen, sondern Voraussetzungen, die
um der Tatsachen willen gemacht werden, aber'selbst der tatsa'chlichen
Nachweisung sich entziehen." . (Wundt, Logik, vol. 1, p. 439. )

"Die Hypothese ist die voiliiufige Annahme der Wahrheit einer un-
i^ewissen Framisse, die auf eine dafiir gehaltene Ursache geht, zum Zweck
ihrer Priifung an ihren Consequenzen." (Uberweg, System der Logik,
p. 394.) "Wissenschaftliche Hypothesen sind nicht (wie Apelt, Theorie der
Induct., sich ausdriickt) 'aus der Luft gegriffene Behauptungen', sondern
als Resultate zulassiger Riickschliisse aus Erfahrungen und zugleich als
PrMmissen versuchsweiser Deductionen die notwendigen Vorstut'en der
adaquaten Erkenntniss." (Ibid., p. 386.)

"It [hypothesis] means the suppositions, suggestions, or guesses, as to
any matter unknown, leading to experimental or other operations, for proof
or disproof." (Bain, Logic, vol. 2, p. 128.) "Many hypotheses are of the.
nature of analogies or comparisons." (Ibid., p. 147.)

90 PART II.— SOME IMPORTANT METHODOLOGICAL TERMS.

the completest proof obtainable is being sought in order to
convert it into a fact or established theory. Should an asser-
tion be self-evident, as Euclid's eighth axiom that things which
are equal to the same thing are equal to one another, we
conceive it as independent of, and as requiring no, proof. On
the other hand, if an assertion is patently incredible, as that
air is impenetrable by human beings, we dismiss it without
striving to prove or disprove it. Nor can we speak of a hypo-
thesis which is incapable of direct and indirect proof, for, by
the definition, partial proof alone entitles a conjecture to be
raised to the dignity of a hypothesis. A hypothesis, then,
asserts something which is neither self- evidently true nor self-
evidently false, nor incapable of some kind of proof, as when
it is, wrongly, asserted that the cortical substance of the rice

"Hypothesis is a name that may be applied to any conception by
which the mind establishes relations between data of testimony, of per-
ception, or of sense, so long as that conception is one among alternative
possibilities, and is not referred to reality as a fact." (Bosanquet, Logic,
vol. 2, p. 155.) "A hypothesis is a hypothesis because it is not, to begin
with, present in the data, and has to be brought there by mediation."
(Ibid., pp. 169-170.)

"The strength of a hypothesis lies in its power of co-ordinating ob-
served facts and of forecasting intelligently the discoveries of the future."
(Whetham, The Recent Development of Physical Science, p. 230.)

"Different suggestions present themselves with varying degrees of
plausibility. Some are passed by as soon as they arise. Others gain a
temporary recognition. Some are explicitly tested with resulting accep-
tance or rejection. The acceptance of any one explanation involves the
rejection of some other explanation. During the process of verification
or test the newly advanced supposition is recognised to be more or less
doubtful. Besides the hypothesis which is tentatively applied there is
recognised the possibility of others." (M. L. Ashley, "The Nature of Hypo-
thesis", in J. Dewey's Studies in Logical Theory, 1903, p. 155.) "The
predicate arises in case of failure of some line of activity going on in
terms of an established habit." (Ibid., p. 170.) "It is pointed out by
Welton that the various ways in which hypotheses are suggested may
be reduced to three classes, viz., enumerative induction, conversion of
propositions, and analogy." (Ibid., p. 171.)

"Aucune regie, aucun principe ne pent guider le savant dans 1'art de
construire des hypotheses ayant une valeur heuristique: qu'elles ne con-
tredisent a aucune loi precedemment etablie, qu'elles soient abandonnees
sans retard des qu'elles recoivent le moindre dementi de 1'experience,
c'est tout ce que 1'on peut exiger d'elles. Et, encore, que d'hypotheses
contraires a certaines lois qu'on croyait certaines, en contradiction avec
certains faits qu'on croyait expliques, ont cependant triomphe, demontrant
la faussete de ces pretendues lois auxquelles elles contredisaient, la fausse
explication des faits qu'on leur opposait. En somme, done, 1'hypothese
est affaire d'intuition; c'est le secret du savant, de 1'homme de genie."
(Paul Caullet, Elements de sociologie, 1913, p. 67.)

"Before we go further, however, we must be clear as to one general
truth. We must understand that the invention of hypotheses is the work
of the scientific genius." (S. H. Mellone, An Introductory Text-Book of
Logic, 1895, p. 332.) This appears to be also the view of Louis Couturat.
in his Les principes des mathematiques, 1905.

"The value of an hypothesis depends upon its usefulness and expe-
diency, and on its power of indicating the lines of future inquiry."
(E. Thorpe, History of Chemistry, vol. 2, p. 95.)

SECTION 12 —HYPOTHESES. 91

removed in milling counteracts the effects of an excessive starch
diet. A plausible assertion is not identical with a hypothesis,
because in ordinary life such an assertion is not regarded as
demanding proof: it is either conceived as being probable
without any reference to proof, or, what is more frequent, the
plausibility is at once mentally converted into a certainty. For
primitive thinkers proof is something subjective; that is, if a
statement forcibly appeals to the feelings, it is forthwith judged
to be true. The strongholds of ignorance and error are paved
with plausible assertions and sprinkled with stray facts. Hence
it would be advisable that terms, such as supposition, conjecture,
surmise, suggestion, guess, assumption, should not be considered
as co-extensive in methodological signification with the scienti-
fically well-established tepm Hypothesis *Which implies that we
are searching for proof of an assertion grounded primarily on
scientific observation or deduction. To this needs to be added
that hypotheses are near neighbours to appropriate fictions or
working hypotheses.1

How is a hypothesis formed? Mill speaks of the "manner
in which a conception is selected suitable to express the facts",
and affirms "that the process is tentative; that it consists of
a succession of guesses ; many being rejected, until one at last
occurs fit to be chosen". Significantly enough, "the guesses
which serve to give mental unity and wholeness to a chaos of
scattered particulars are accidents [?] which rarely occur to any
minds but those abounding in knowledge and disciplined in
intellectual combinations". (Logic, bk. 3, ch. 2, § 4.) "An hypo-
thesis", Mill declares, "being a mere supposition, there are no
other limits to hypotheses than those of the human imagination."
(Ibid., bk. 3, ch. 14, § 4.) And further on: "The process of
tracing regularity in any complicated, and at first sight confused,
set of appearances, is necessarily tentative : we begin by making
any supposition, even a false one, to see what consequences
will follow from it; and by observing how these differ from
the real phenomena, we learn what corrections to make in our
assumption." (Ibid., bk. 3, ch. 14, § 5.) Finally, in what seems
his most explicit passage on the subject, Mill states: "Let any
one watch the manner in which he himself unravels a compli-
cated mass of evidence ; let him observe how, for instance, he

1 Working hypotheses are frequently "leading" hypotheses, aud in their
case proof or disproof may occupy centuries, the largest working hypotheses
having the longest life as a rule owing to the difficulty of proving much
where relatively little is known. Such hypotheses are often admitted to be
seriously defective, but they are retained until more satisfactory ones are
forthcoming, e.g., Newton's corpuscular theory of light was displaced by
Young's undulatory theory of light, because the latter agreed better with
the known facts. (A combination of the two theories is now being tested.)
In ordinary hypotheses, of course, complete, or very nearly complete, proof.
is attainable, e.g., whether the shadow I observe is caused by a cloud or
a certain near object.

92 PART II.-SOME IMPORTANT METHODOLOGICAL TERMS.

elicits the true history of any occurrence from the involved
statements of one or of many witnesses: he will find that he
does not take all the items of evidence into his mind at once,
and attempt to weave them together: he extemporises, from
a few of the particulars, a first rude theory of the mode in
which the facts took place, and then looks at the other state-
ments one by one, to try whether they can be reconciled with
that provisional theory, or what alterations or additions it re-
quires to make it square with them." (Ibid.) In not one of
these instances, it will be perceived, is there a statement con-
cerning the precise whence of a hypothesis, i.e., as to how
"the first rude theory" was arrived at.1

If a hypothesis were a "mere supposition", "any supposition,
even a false one", it is impossible to calculate the number of
guesses we should be compelled to venture upon before stum-
bling on the appropriate explanation. Kepler's twenty hypo-
theses to account for the apparent movements of the planet
Mars (which he minutely studied) would become 20,000 or even
20,000,000 hypotheses, and nothing would be more difficult to
reach in any instance than the truth.2 Yet Mill's pregnant hint
that happy guesses "are accidents which rarely occur to any
minds but those abounding in knowledge and disciplined in
intellectual combinations", strongly suggests that scientific train-
ing and conscientious and wide examination of data should
precede the formulation of a hypothesis.

§ 36. Moreover, many minds often concentrate on the pre-
paration of one hypothesis. A glance at the history of astronomy
from Copernicus to Kant, or at the evolution hypothesis from
Lamarck and Darwin to our day, will make this manifest; and

1 We recognise, with Lotze, that in the process of generalisation something
implicit is made explicit. "In most cases what leads us to make the deduction
is that a number of individual perceptions Si M, s2 M, 83 M, thrust themselves
one after another on our notice, so waking in us the suspicion that the
ground of M is universally to be found in the nature of s, in various examples
of which we observe it." (Logic, vol. 2, p. 32.) On the other hand, Miss
Naden echoes Mill's condemnation of Bacon: "That hasty flight of the mind
from particulars to the highest generalisations, which he regards as funda-
mentally unscientific, is the necessary preliminary of investigation." (In-
duction and Deduction, p. 44.) And yet she admits that "a hypothesis never
comes into being without some preliminary induction; rude indeed and
imperfect, but as a rule clearly traceable". (Ibid., p. 69.)

2 "If Kepler had not known the geometry of conic sections, and had not
had in his mind the attributes of the ellipse as proceeding from purely
geometrical considerations, to serve as major premises for his calculations,
he would never have discovered his first law." (Sigwart, Logic, vol. 2,
]>. 275.) And it might be added that if he had not had many facts at his
disposal, it would have been a pure miracle for him to have guessed that
the squares of the periodic times of the several planets are proportionate
to the cubes of their mean distance from the sun. We may also remark
in this connection that he made a life study of the motions of the planets,
and that he utilised the imposing collection of facts bequeathed him by
Tvcho Brahe.

SECTION 12.— HYPOTHESES. 93

when we reflect that Dr. Joule had been preceded by Davy and
Rumford (who had already dimly apprehended the far-reaching
theory of the conservation of energy), and was followed by
Grove, Maier, Helmholtz, Clerk-Maxwell, and others, who more
and more fully developed the theory of the conservation of
energy, we shall not be surprised that there are few exceptions,
if any, to the rule to which we have here called attention.'
Mendelyeff admirably illustrates this law of co-operation in the
establishment of a comprehensive hypothesis or theory: "I con-
sider it well to observe that no law of nature, however general,
has been established all at once; its recognition is always
preceded by many presentiments; the establishment of a law,
however, does not take place when the first thought of it takes
form, or even when its significance is recognised, but only when
it has been confirmed by the results of experiment, which the
man of science must consider as the only proof of the correct-
ness of his conjectures and opinions. I, therefore, look upon
Roscoe . . . and others who verified the adaptability of the peri-
odic law to chemical facts as the true founders of the periodic
law, the further development of which still awaits many fresh
workers." (The Principles of Chemistry, 1905, pp. 18-19.)-
Whetham, referring to the interdependence in physical enquiries
as illustrated by recent theories relating to chemistry, magne-
tism, electricity, Rontgen rays, and radio-activity, remarks in the
same vein: "The slow and patient work of many observers
through long years often leads up to and suggests the particular
step from which follows, almost of necessity, the practical appli-
cation or the far-reaching theory." (The Recent Development
of Physical Science, p. 198.) And the same author alludes in
these terms to the slow historic development of instruments,
which are but objective hypotheses: "The spectroscope itself
illustrates the progressive triumph of modern science, for it is
the work neither of one man nor of one century. Its principles
have been developed gradually, and its construction elaborated
throughout a couple of hundred years." (Ibid., p. 297.) That
epoch-making ideas issue spontaneously from the minds of great

1 Not only is one hypothesis frequently the product of many minds, but
in most instances the hypothesis undergoes a prolonged evolution in its
author's mind before it is communicated to the world.

Numerous examples might be cited of the social origin of ideas. The
following is selected at haphazard, and others will be found scattered through-
out this volume: "Galton and Jager, Brooks and Nussbaum, Hertwig and
Herdman, Na'geli and Weismann, and others, have all contributed to making
the fact of continuity more precise. Hopeful also are the suggestions of
Jager, Berthold, Gautier, and Geddes, which make towards a chemical ex-
pression of the continuity between germ and germ." (Chambers' Encyc-
lopaedia, article "Heredity".)

- Mendelyeff was preceded by Newbolt in 1864, and Lothar Meyer made
the same discovery as Mendelyeff in the same year, in 1869. See on the
periodic law, Charles L. Bloxam, Chemistry Inorganic and Organic, 1913,
and also the works of Thorpe, Soddy, and Crowther cited.

94 PART II. -SOME IMPORTANT METHODOLOGICAL TERMS.

men is therefore as mythical a belief as that animals came
suddenly into being.1

In pure theory no reason exists why some thinker should
not have guessed a world formula which should irresistibly
reveal to us the whole mechanism and organism of nature; but
in practice, we have seen, the larger generalisations of any
value have grown out of smaller ones, and where relevant
knowledge did not abound, the hypotheses framed, even if true,
could not be verified. If the youthful Newton had observed
an apple fall from a tree, and had straightway committed to
paper his system of the worlds, Mill's view. might be upheld;
but the perusal of Newton's Principia, with its profuse allusions
to other authors, should convince anyone that the apple theory
is without justification. When, then, we study the actual facts
concerning Newton's theory, say in Sir David Brewster's Life
of Newton, we are not surprised to learn that many scholars
were responsible for the different portions of the solution and
that the solution slowly grew, and continued growing after
Newton, as the result of mountains of collective labour. We
should even experience some difficulty in deciding what vital
portion of the general gravitation hypothesis was ascribable to
Newton himself, considering that the conception of the unity
of the solar system, the revolution of the earth round its axis
and round the sun, the discovery of the concept of gravity
and its extension to the solar system, the quantitative determi-
nation of the velocities and the accelerations of falling bodies,
and even the law of inverse squares, were not apparently
discovered by the author of the Principia.'2

Darwin freely adopted suggestions from others: —

"The starting points of many of Darwin's researches were furnished
him by other intelligent men." (Frank Cramer, op. cit., p. 47.) "After his
return from the Beagle voyage, Mr. Wedgwood of Maer Hall suggested to
him that the apparent sinking of superficial bodies, ashes, marl, cinders, etc..
in the earth is due to the action of earthworms." (Ibid., p. 48.) "Boitard
and Corbie merely made the observation that, when they crossed certain
breeds of pigeons, birds coloured like the Columba livia, or common dove-

1 Ernest Naville in his La logique de I'hypothese, recognises that hypo-
theses should not be accepted till after verification; but, starting with the
assumption that hypotheses are the product of genius, he is content to urge
his view passionately without examining the evidence.

Welton seems to waver between opposed explanations of hypotheses:
"Facility in framing hypotheses cannot be reduced to rule, and hence falls
outside the province of logic." (Manual of Logic, vol. 2, p. 86.) "In most
cases the attempts of previous enquirers have shown more or less plainly
in what direction explanation must be sought: either by the partial estab-
lishment of some hypothesis, or by making manifest the inadmissibility
of others." (Ibid., vol. 2, p. 86.)

2 On the same principles Jenner proves to be an enthusiastic summariser
and not a discoverer, and this is partly or wholly true of perhaps most
men of highest repute. Strange as it may seem, the "great" scientist or artist
only appears when the work of invention or discovery has been virtually
completed.

SECTION 12.-HYPOTHESES. 95

cot, were almost invariably produced. It drew Darwin's attention and led
to numerous experiments on reversion due to crossing." (Ibid., p. 50.)
"Mr. W. Marshall knew that in the mountains of Cumberland many insects
adhered to the leaves of Pinguicula; he told Darwin, and Darwin told
the world. Mr. Holland's statement thnt water insects are often found
imprisoned in the bladders of Utricularia, is interesting, chiefly because
it led Darwin to investigate the genus." (Ibid., p. 51.) "When Lawson,
the Vice-Governor [of the Galapagos Islands] had declared to him that
the tortoises from the different islands differed from one another, Darwin
did not see the significance of the fact." (Ibid., p. 90.)

If we look narrowly into the matter we learn that all state-
ments are assumptions. Even in answering such questions as
Who did it? Why was it done? The answer "Foch", or
"Because he wished 4o outwit the Germans", are assumptions.
Such assumptions may be infinitely near the truth, as in the
assertions about the law of gravitation, or about what is taking
place "under our eyes", or they may be infinitely removed
from it, as in gratuitous conjectures. Assumptions may, there-
fore, be regarded as fundamentally co-extensive with active
thought.

§ 37. We shall now study the origin of hypotheses. On a
visit to a literary friend I observe that he picks up a capacious
envelope, and I ask myself what he proposes to do therewith.
I reply, after reflecting a moment : He probably desires to stow
away a manuscript. How did I arrive at this hypothesis? I
endeavour to form an explanation, and I remember that on my
last visit I saw him place a manuscript in such an envelope.
This, then, provoked the reply. I cleared up one situation by
collating it with a kindred one.

The psychological aspect of the conclusion I reached is far
from self-explanatory. To begin with, sundry mental habits
need to be allowed for. There is the habit of interesting our-
selves in what occurs around us, and the habit of desiring to
understand and interpret occurrences. There is the habit of
seeking to recall analogous circumstances, and of connecting
the- new with the old in a more or less bold and methodical
manner. Granted, then, that we seek to determine the purpose
which the envelope is to serve, the answer must eventually
come, if it does come, through partial or total identification,
however indirectly, of the present action with a past action.
I might have recalled some one else utilising envelopes, or a
similar receptacle, for such an object or a related one, or even
have reasoned that he would utilise it thus, because I could
not think of any other object it could serve. In the latter case
I might have glanced round the room, and found that only the
manuscript appeared to fit the envelope; but if I had never
reasoned from the past to the present, and from the present
to the future, and if I had never appreciated the uses to which
different objects may be put, no conclusion would have been
sought or reached. Again, if I had remembered my literary
friend performing this action repeatedly, and many other authors

96 PART II. — SOME 'IMPORTANT METHODOLOGICAL TERMS.

also proceeding in that way, my conclusion would have been
visibly strengthened, and would have presented itself with virtual
spontaneity.

We have intentionally selected an incident where one fact
was observed; but where many facts have fallen under our
observation, or where one fact may be construed in diverse
ways, or only with difficulty, the process remains identical.
Only, we apply numerous methods in approaching the problem,
and fail more than once before we succeed to our complete
satisfaction. For this reason the expert, the person who has
at his beck and call many methods and facts, triumphs with
facility over the inexpert. That which leaves the layman wholly
at sea, is therefore often easily disposed of by the painter, the
lawyer, the doctor, the engineer, the navigator, or whoever be
the well-informed individual. Direct experience, followed on
and accompanied by study, is thus one of the most copious
sources of suggestive hypotheses.1

Only a few further instances of the elaboration of hypo-
theses may be mentioned in passing. My opinion is asked con-
cerning a book which I have just concluded reading, and I
express it. Here, supposing that the book is brilliant, brilliant
passages recurred and were noted, and, recalling the contents
of the book, the most patent facts in connection therewith are
recollected, in accordance with the elementary facts of the pur-
poseful associating of feelings and ideas. The items which
recur oftenest, or appeal to me most, obtrude themselves, and
are therefore readily remembered. So it is with scientific prob-
lems generally.- After having attempted a somewhat ex-
haustive study of the subject of habit, I desire to know its
essential nature, and the element apparently recurring most
frequently, that is, the economisation of activity or the sup-
pression in a particular process of thought or action of steps
which have been rendered superfluous, suggests itself almost
immediately, whilst other less important features tend also to
be recalled. Should the hypothesis, on examination, prove
inadequate, I re-examine my memory and, if necessary, re-
examine the facts. Or, on ascertaining that many negroes have
graduated at universities, I tentatively frame the hypothesis

1 "The relation of the living animals to the fossil species in South
America, the manner in which closely allied animals replaced one another
as he proceeded southward over the Continent, the South American charac-
ter of the productions of the Galapagos archipelago, and especially the slight
but distinct differences of the flora and fauna on neighbouring islands of
the archipelago, impressed [Darwin] so strongly with the peculiar character
of the facts and the necessity of a definite mode of origin that he began
to see the difference in the logical character of the doctrines of creation
and descent." (Frank Cramer, op. cit., p. 214.)

- In these cases, perhaps in all cases, the more systematic and synthetic
the process of investigation, the more likely shall we arrive at "the truth,
the whole truth, and nothing but the truth".

SECTION 12.— HYPOTHESES. 97

that average members of perhaps all races of men are able
to graduate at universities. Here the habit of tentatively
generalising important statements (§ 172) is mainly responsible
for the hypothesis. Or, striving to think of improvements,
I follow as regards a particular object, the rule of recollecting
acknowledged defects and clamoured-for perfections, and con-
ceive them as objects to be realised according to admitted prin-
ciples. (See § 171.) Or, finally, we may develop our special
illustration of the mode of forming a hypothesis by extending
our generalisation thus: my friend sometimes, frequently, gene-
rally, always, keeps manuscripts in envelopes; he stores every
kind of manuscript, engraving, extracts from newspapers,
classes of letters, etc., in envelopes; he makes parcels of
everything. This last case implies that we often seek only for
a bare explanation of a single fact, and that it is indifferent
circumstances which frequently decide in our unmethodological
age how extensive or how reasoned a hypothesis will be.

Of course, certain distinctions should be presupposed. Where
much of a scientific character is known, as in certain portions
of physics, a cursory scrutiny of facts may suffice for forming
a legitimate and sweeping hypothesis. In such an instance,
however, we rely on the observations of previous investigators.
For this specific reason, i.e., the different developmental stages
of a science, years of indefatigable observation may issue in
no valid hypothesis, whilst in another department immediate
observation may play an inconspicuous part and yet an impos-
ing and true hypothesis readily emerges.1 Naturally, too, some
individuals are better trained than others to appreciate con-
nections of objects and energies, or are more fitted by cir-
cumstances for investigating one science than another.

Mill claims that the deductive process consists of an induction,
followed by ratiocination and completed by verification. He,
however, recognises also a hypothetical method. "The hypo-
thetical method suppresses the first of the three steps, the in-
duction to ascertain the law, and contents itself with the other
two operations, ratiocination and verification, the law which is
reasoned from being assumed instead of proved." (Logic, bk. 3,
ch. 14, § 4.) This method, Mill considers, is specially applicable
to social problems, and he judges that not until it is adopted,
shall we chronicle any noteworthy progress in social science.
This exemplifies Mill's extraordinary belief that by a species
of spontaneous generation the most far-reaching hypotheses can

1 The opposite contention, that hypotheses are necessary to observation,
is, of course, also true, since alertness involves readiness to be guided by
the merest hint. According to his son, Darwin "often said that no one
could be a good observer unless he was an active theoriser" (Charles Darwin,
p. 95); but this only refers to the lowliest grade of hypotheses, and to such
as are of methodological importance, as, for instance, the suggestions con-
tained in the Table of Categories.

98 PART II.— SOME IMPORTANT METHODOLOGICAL TERMS.

be formed. Unfortunately many scholars to-day proceed even
further on the downward slope and suppress both the first and
the third step, supplying us with a fantastic pell-mell of crude
conjectures. It is as if a nation desirous of augmenting its
wealth, concentrated its energies on opening for this purpose
an endless number of lotteries which offer countless prizes of
fabulous value, and deprecated all other activities for the
creation of wealth.

We may now direct our attention to the subject of general-
ising which is but another term for hypothetical extension or
eduction of statements.

SECTION XIII. -GENERALISATION OR EXTENSION.

§ 38. The ideal end of science, on the theoretical side, is
to obtain a world formula, or a correlated or integrated series
of formula, which shall embrace and suggest all possible
general statements.1 For example, we might arrive at a
mechanical or electrical theory of the Universe explaining the
physical and chemical properties of matter in terms of elec-
trons and their motions. As Bacon, Schopenhauer, Avenarius,
Mach, and a host of other thinkers have pointed out, the im-
mediate and practical object of generalising is an economic
one.2 The narrowness of the field of consciousness, the slowness
marking the communication of ideas, and the quick fading and
deterioration of memories, lead to the desire to epitomise our
knowledge.

1 "The ideal of knowledge, no doubt, is ... in the progressive reduction
of reality to a single system or to comprehensive single systems." (Bosan-
quet, Logic, vol. 2, p. 174.) "Every great advance in science consists in a
great generalisation, pointing out deep and subtle resemblances." (Jevons,
Principles of Science, p. 625.) "Legitimate generalisation is the end and
aim of all philosophy." (Mill, Logic.)

2 "It is the duty and virtue of all knowledge to abridge the infinity of
individual experience." (Bacon, Advancement of Learning, bk. 2.)

"To diminish, as far as possible, the number of general laws necessary
for the positive explanation of natural phenomena ... is the real philosophic
purpose of all science." (Comte, The Fundamental Principles of the Positive
Philosophy, ed. 1905, p. 41.)

"The amount of our knowledge depends upon our power of bringing it
within practicable compass. Unless we arrange and classify facts and con-
dense them into general truths, they soon surpass our powers of memory
and serve but to confuse." (Jevons, Principles of Science, pp. 148-149.)

For an able statement, see Section 4 of Ch. 4, entitled "The Economy of
Science", in Ernst Mach, The Science of Mechanics, 1902.

"Science has been termed an economy of thought, a shorthand of know-
ledge, a simplified view of things, a compressed formulation of facts, a brief
statement of what is observable, and the like. If this very plausible stand-
point be correct, we have in it a striking illustration of the principle of
economisation. According to our reading of the facts the following happens
in the evolution of truths. Surrounded by innumerable interesting things
of most varying aspects, we try hard to comprehend them. Since little
time is at our disposal, we make desperate attempts to reach the simplest

SECTION 13. - GENERALISA TION OR EXTENSION. 99

A generalisation, until proved, is an hypothesis which asserts
that what holds true of one fact holds true beyond that one
fact1 For ordinary purposes the generalising process may be
supposed to succeed necessarily the preliminary process of
observation, since unclassified facts are scientifically of minimal
value.

In defence of the syllogism it has been urged that in all
reasoning we assume some general fact, and that an individual
fact only exists as a member of a class. In conformity with
this it has been argued that the universal and not the particular
is real, and that the class precedes the particulars it com-
prehends. Let us, then, examine what signification is to be
attached to the term "General".'2

In the special example cited to illustrate the origin of hypo-
theses we only pre-supposed reasoning from one particular to
one other. I reflected: On my former visit my literary friend
stowed away a manuscript in a capacious envelope, therefore
his picking up a capacious envelope on my present visit is,
on general grounds of experience, to be interpreted similarly.
Particulars agreeing, likeness was posited. In my mind there
need not have been lurking any generalisation to the effect
that whenever any one seizes an unusually large envelope, he
wishes to stowe away a manuscript; or, what was true of the

possible formulation of the world of facts, and in these attempts lie defined
the object, motive and method of science. Apart from the process of
economisation, therefore, science, with all its implications, has no meaning;
and, for the same reason, every truth, every statement, and every generali-
sation, owes its existence solely to the process of economisation." (G. Spiller,
Mind of Man, 1902, p. 121.) This implies that science does not deal as a
rule with any whole, for such a whole is generally an intricate complex
and is, besides, related to the totality of things, rendering it impossible in
our day to make concerning it any intelligible statement. However, since
the very meaning of a whole is also a mental product, it is unjustifiable
to speak of science as not treating of reality because of the present limita-
tions of its scope. Moreover, since the sciences differ in the inclusion of
constituent parts as much as pure mathematics does from physiography, it
is unprofitable to set up artificial divisions between the subject-matter of
science and that of common thought. The latter, indeed, is frequently more
abstract than a train of scientific cogitations.

1 Generalisation is "the act of comprehending under a common name
several objects agreeing in some point which we abstract from each of them,
and which that common name serves to indicate". (Whately, Logic, p. 344.)

"The extension of the concurrence from the observed to the unobserved
cases" is alone generalising. (Bain, Logic, vol. 2, p. 2.)

"Generalisation consists in passing from observed phenomena to their
essential and invariable conditions; in the detection, as Jevons puts it,
of a true 'common nature'." (Welton, Manual of Logic, p. 193.)

2 Sigwart says: "The number of instances from which a universal pro-
position is obtained makes no fundamental difference in the logical process
involved, and the character -of the process is obscured when the colligation
of a number of similar instances is put forward as its essential feature."
(Logic, vol. 2, p. 310.) Boeanquet (Logic, vol. 2, pp. 177-179) argues along
the same line. A sharp distinction needs to be drawn here between formal
logic and practical methodology.

100 PART II.— SOME IMPORTANT METHODOLOGICAL TERMS.

given instance, will always hold true of similar instances in
the future. An examination of the nature of the General will
demonstrate the untenability of such a position, and it will also
indicate that often mere intensity or repetition of an experience,
rather than reasoning, accounts for a conclusion.

Let us consider an experience. An acquaintance is ascribing
to me to-day mistaken, though flattering, motives concerning
a certain action of -mine. This had also happened yesterday,
without my then launching any generalisation. To-day I say
to him that both yesterday and to-day the ascription to me of
the particular motives was presumably due to his assuming on
those occasions that he himself would have been prompted by
such motives in those circumstances. Here I reasoned from
one particular to a second particular. I now begin systemati-
cally to extend. My acquaintance, I think, (1) sometimes, (2) fre-
quently, (3) generally, (4) practically always, (5) invariably, attri-
butes to me certain motives, because he would, in such a situa-
tion, be himself actuated by such motives. I further extend
this to (6) some, (7) many, (8) very many, (9) most, (10) all
people. I continue to extend this to (11) some, (12) many,
(13) very many, (14) most, (15) all ideas and sentiments which
men possess. I venture* on the broad generalisation that (16)
people presume others to be and do what they are and do
themselves. And, finally, I vaguely surmise that (17) in the
Universe like assumes like.

§ 39. The ambiguity involved in the conception of the
generalising process would be removed if we were to employ
the term Extension instead of the term Generalisation, for ex-
tension naturally suggests an indefinite number of stages,
whereas generalisation tends to direct attention to one stage
only. For instance, scrutinising the nature of the sensations,
I assume that special and general memory (vide § 19) would
be required in viewing the inrushing tide (which 1 am now
watching) a second, third, fourth, or /zth time; I then reason
to similar objects seen, to sight generally, to sound, and to all
the senses. Thus, again, formulating a charter of liberty which
refers to individuals, I extend the charter methodically to politi-
cal and other groups, to humanity as a whole, to the inner
life, as well as to art, to all other human activities, and, con-
ditionally, to the whole animal creation. Or noticing that
32 — 1 is divisible by 2, 42 — 1 by 3, and so on, I generalise the
formula to n~ — 1, and further to nm — 1 divisible by n — 1. (Sig-
wart, Logic, vol. 2, p. 212.) Clearly, the first generalisation in
any of these cases did not psychologically compel the last, and
historic progress is registered in extending generalisations to
undreamt-of realms, and to spheres which had been at first
expressly excluded from a generalisation. Prof. Creighton justly
remarks: "A conception, or mode of regarding things, which
has proved serviceable in one field is almost certain to dominate

SECTION 13.— GENERALISATION OR EXTENSION. 101

a whole age, and to be used as an almost universal principle
of explanation. The eighteenth century, for example, was
greatly under the influence of mechanical ideas. ... In these
later years of the nineteenth century we are dominated by
the idea of evolution. The biological notion of an organism
which grows or develops has been applied in every possible
field. We speak, for example, of the world as an organism
rather than as a machine, of the state and of society as organic.
And the same conception has been found useful in explaining
the nature of human intelligence." (Introductory Logic, p. 259.)
The fallacy in the absolutist theory of generalisation lay in
assuming that either men were ideal thinking mechanisms which
generalised everything to the fullest ; or that because we some-
times extend a proposition widely, therefore we always do so.
All one is entitled to assert is that when men will be thoroughly
trained to think in conformity with securely established scien-
tific principles, they will extend every proposition to the farthest
limits desirable and practicable in the circumstances.

Many illustrations of the concrete process of generalisation
might be cited. Standing on the famous hill which commands
Marseilles, one person will exclaim: "How beautiful to observe
the town from such an eminence!" Another will say: "I must
observe Rome also from an imposing height." Another still :
"I must seek to observe some other towns from a hill or
mountain." And yet another: "I will endeavour to see every
town and place from a 'convenient altitude." However, fatigue
of ascent, time absorbed in reaching a height, bad weather,
poor views, absence of eminences, will contribute materially
towards persuading the over-sanguine to restrict the generali-
sation. Another example. One person much enjoys a circular
tram trip in a town which he is visiting, and he in no way
generalises. Another one will cautiously generalise that when
any town is beautiful, and other circumstances are favourable,
he will also enjoy a circular trip. A third person will generalise
unconditionally, and, if he is on an extensive tour visiting many
towns, he will soon learn the folly of indiscriminately generalis-
ing. Or one person notices in a picture gallery, without gene-
ralising, that every exhibit has affixed to it the date, the name
of the artist, and the subject, whilst another person at once
thinks, on perceiving the superscriptions, that every kind of
exhibition in the world should be as convenient for the visitor
as is this picture gallery. Again, in Rome, the present author
noticed that the General Post Office was in a court yard. When
he saw that this was also the case in Florence, he merely
registered the "coincidence". Only when the experience re-
peated itself in Bologna, did he vaguely and provisionally gene-
ralise about General Post Offices in the larger towns of Italy.
When, however, the Venice Post Office was found to be in a
court yard, he consciously generalised.

102 PART II.— SOME IMPORTANT METHODOLOGICAL TERMS.

Moreover, the difficulty in generalising not infrequently lies
in the fact that generalising is inappropriate in multitudes of
cases. It is not always true, for instance, that whenever one
man imputes to another man certain motives, he reflects what
would be his own motives in such circumstances. On the con-
trary, and this is for us the determining factor to remember,
it is often true that men's reasons for ascribing motives to
others vary much, and it is not improbable that my acquaint-
ance had only yesterday and to-day acted in the manner
indicated, and that he would not again act thus.1 Let any one
attempt to generalise mechanically: This book is well written,
therefore all books are well written; this residence is large,
therefore all residences are large ; Irene is fifteen years old to-
day, therefore everybody is fifteen years old to-day; "from
the age of zero to the age of one year the child is able to
increase its weight 200 °/o" (S. Minot, op. cit, p. 109), therefore
we ^ach increase our weight each year by 200 °/o; the blue
rays are most efficient for the heliotropic reactions of certain
plants, and the yellowish-green rays for the heliotropic reactions
of certain animals, yet these facts cannot be generalised; or,
since the fertilised ovum increases a billionfold in size within
nine months, therefore we increase a billionfold in size every
nine months ; and he will appreciate the limitations to mechani-
cal generalising.2 From every point of view, then, we infer
that there is nothing rounded about a generalisation; that it
is not always justifiable to generalise; -that there is no dividing
line between an extension of one particular to one other or to
a comprehensive class ; and that it is often expedient to refrain
from generalising, to extend only to a second circumstance or
to several circumstances, and so on ad indefinitum. When to
generalise,3 and to what extent to generalise, is in the present
day a matter of capricious habit, but will be in futurity a
question of science. (See on this point Conclusion 25 1.)

We thus comprehend why men resort to a universalised
form of speech. "In common discourse", Isaac Watts judi-
ciously remarks, "we usually denominate persons and things
according to the major part of their character. He is to be
called a wise man who has but few follies ; he is a good philo-

1 As Darwin incisively expressed this: '"Any fool can generalise and
speculate.' " (Frank Cramer, op. cit., p. 39.)

2 Dictionary makers frequently generalise mechanically. Thus one dic-
tionary gives as part of the definition of "Swiss" "the language of Switzer-
land", and another dictionary, "its language", when, of course, there is no
"Swiss language".

"Where we observe the same mark in different subjects, we are pre-
disposed to think that the agreement is not a chance one and that the
different subjects have not therefore stumbled upon the same predicate
each through a special circumstance of its own, but are all radically of one
common essence, of which their possession of the same mark is the con-
sequence." (Lotze, Logic, vol. 1, p. 134.)

SECTION 13.— GENERALISATION OR EXTENSION. 103

sopher who knows much of nature, and for the most part
reasons well in matters of human science ; and that book should
be esteemed well written, which has more of good sense in it
than it has of impertinence." (Logic, p. 178.) And in the
Preface to La Rochefoucauld's famous Reflections, we read:
"Common conversation teaches us that even where general
expressions are used, we take them in a limited sense, with
such and such restrictions. ... As, for example, when we hear
a man say, 'All Paris went to meet the king', or 'All the
court was at the play', every one knows that it only signifies
the greater part." Similarly there is value in an indefinife
generalised statement, as when it is contended that "the over-
whelming majority of organisms have a bilaterally symmetrical
structure". (J. Loeb, Forced Movements, 1918, p. 13.)

§ 40. Besides, as we have seen (§ 7), the Universe is as a
totality stable if brief periods are considered, and all but the
scientifically trained, misled by this, tend, therefore, to gene-
ralise where wiser men prudently discriminate. "Suffering
ennobles", "Suffering degrades"; "By answering injury with
kindness, we touch others' hearts", "By answering injury with
kindness, we invite and create callousness"; "Some persons
defy their environment, therefore environment is of no con-
sequence in morals", "Some persons are crushed by their en-
vironment, therefore environment is of infinite significance in
morals"; "Out of sight, out of mind", "Absence makes the
heart grow fonder"; "Religion (health, intellect, sympathy,
resoluteness) is everything in morality"; "There is a universal
conscience", "The conscience varies with each people and
age"; "Self-reliance is everything", "Social devotion is every-
thing"; and a hundred other popular but contradictory gene-
ralisations illustrate the fact that men are almost incurably
addicted to building broad generalisations on slender experience.1

Nor is precipitancy by any means confined to the masses.
. Not a few educationists, for example, are fond of generalising.
Having perceived certain advantages accruing from the child
being interested in his school work, interest is forthwith con-
ceived as the be-all and end-all of education. Likewise, self-
dependence, collaboration, games, concrete study, science teach-
ing, the cultivation of the aesthetic sense, physical culture, manual
training, classics, religious lessons, vocational preparation, and
diverse other forms of education, are each in succession, and
on equally inadequate grounds, proclaimed to possess the power
of revolutionising the spiritual nature of the child. So, too,
arguing from a caricature of the earlier stages of man's history
and from imperfect observation of child life, it has been widely
maintained that the child tends to repeat the history of man

1 <4 Generalisation is the great prerogative of the intellect, but it is a power
only to be exercised safely with much caution and after long training."
<.l<-vons, Principles of Science, p. 626.)

104 PART II.— SOME IMPORTANT METHODOLOGICAL TERMS.

in its general outlines, and that his educators should respect
this tendency in the child, and even be ruled thereby. This
doubly dubious analogy could have been easily ascertained to
be spurious by noting that the children of primitive folk pass
through the same phases as those of Western people, and that
the life of primitive and semi-civilised men is intrinsically that
of adults and not of children. Educators, moreover, are prone
to surmise — this is the educator's fallacy par excellence— that
whatever children are taught in a certain place and in a certain
connection, they will appropriately generalise to all suitable
places and suitable connections, erroneously ascribing a power
to the immature which the ideally trained thinker would envy.
And, of course, what is so largely true of the teaching profession,
is in all probability equally true of most other professions and
callings.

Scholars, however, not infrequently indulge in the opposite
tendency of fixing limits. Bacon told us that "it is impossible
that air should ever be consistent, or put off its fluidity".
(Novum Organum, bk. 2, 33.) Comte confidently declared that a
sidereal chemistry is a chimera, and this on the eve of decisive
discoveries in this most fascinating domain of science. Bain
argues : "All assertions as to the ultimate structure of the par-
ticles of matter are, and ever must be, hypothetical. . . . That
heat consists of the motions of the atoms can never be directly
shown." (Logic, vol. 2, p. 132.) And very common is the assump-
tion that the stage of civilisation reached to-day will not be
appreciably excelled in the future, ignoring that since mankind
has made inconceivably great advances in the past, it is likely
to make inconceivably great advances in the future, advances
suggestive of a world as much ahead of our own day as ours
is ahead of early paleolithic times. Only a general training in
scientific method can save us from the two extremes, and place
us in a position to generalise warily whilst rejecting all hypo-
thetical limitations.

We have reasoned throughout this Section as if in the process
of generalisation we commenced invariably with observing parti-
cular facts, and then generalised our observations. The actual
process of thought, however, is often far from being so free
from complications. As everybody is aware, an enquiry is
seldom wholly novel, and even beyond this lies the fact that
we start as adults with a colossal army of more or less con-
fused notions and generalisations at our disposal. From this
it is to be inferred that perhaps more frequently than not we
are scrutinising a series of facts which, to our knowledge, has
been previously examined and generalised by others. Con-
formably, we find, as a rule, generalisations to hand, and our
concern is not seldom to correct, remould, or replace them.
Indeed, the steady historic advance in reliable information
implies that we are mainly modifying and extending, rather

SECTION 13.— GENERALISATION OR EXTENSION. 105

than creating, generalisations. Moreover, without an accepted
principle of classification to guide us, and a copious number
of generalisations to mark out for us the limits of our enquiry,
the process of generalisation would be probably to all intents
meaningless and vain, indeed impossible. (See Section V and
Conclusion 33.)

§ 41. We ought to distinguish at least three classes of gene-
ralisation. First, simple generalisation, where what js asserted
of a phenomenon, say a new fact about a certain colour, is
extended to a second colour or to its own highest class, the
sense of sight. Secondly, compound generalisation, where what
is asserted of a class, e.g., a novel fact concerning the sense
of sight, is extended to more or less closely related classes— to
some or all the remaining senses, etc. And, lastly, universal
generalisation, where we extend to what is remotely related,
as reasoning from the nature of the senses to the memory,
and thence to the brain and, beyond, to life and matter in
general.1

§ 42. It is also not unconditionally true that science is only
concerned with general facts. The chemist frequently reasons
from one substance to a second substance or to a small group
of substances. The physicist not seldom endeavours to connect
one force with one other, as magnetism with electricity, light
with heat, and light with electricity (as in Clerk-Maxwell's electro-
magnetic theory of light), or argues from the existence of a
magnetic field to the existence of a gravitational field. And, gene-
rally speaking, there are myriads of occasions when a scientific
extension does not pass beyond a second or a few facts. More-
over, astronomers will observe a single eclipse or a single star ;
physicists reduce one gas after another to the liquid and solid
state;2 chemists add one element to another; seismologists will
inquire into the causes of a certain earthquake or volcanic
eruption ; geologists will describe the strata of a certain region ;
anthropologists will compose a monograph on a single tribe;
and economists will investigate the economic condition of a
particular district of a particular country at a particular time.
There is, in other words, a cumulative as well as a generalising
aspect to scientific enquiries, the former of which is well illus-

1 Here is a broad generalisation, summing up the general nature of all
waves, whether connected with light, heat, sound, etc.: —

"1. — The disturbance takes time to travel from one point to another.

2. — The disturbance is propagated through a medium.

3. — On meeting an obstacle the waves are reflected back, and the angles
of incidence and reflection are equal.

4.— The course of the waves is changed, i.e., they are refracted, when
they pass from one medium to another in which the rate of travel is different.

5. — The disturbance of a particle of the medium is alternating and not
continuous in one direction." (J. H. Poynting and J. J. Thomson, Sound, 1913,
pp. 3-4.)

2 This has now been accomplished as regards all gases.

106 PART II.— SOME IMPORTANT METHODOLOGICAL TERMS.

trated in the gigantic collection of facts pertaining to topo-
graphy, the charting of the seas, and weather lore.

§ 43. We must touch upon two other aspects. The uni-
formity of nature is a fundamental assumption of science.
When, therefore, we have some pure nitrogen before us in a
flask, we are bound to assert that whatever holds good of this
sample in the given conditions will necessarily hold good of
all pure nitrogen under identical conditions. In instances of this
character, as in the problems of mechanics and chemistry, no
question of generalising arises, for he who would assume that
a particular body in motion would, but for friction and other
opposing forces such as gravitation, continue for ever in motion,
without implicitly positing that this was true of all bodies,
would appear to be necessarily confused in his thought.1 When,
however, we venture on an assertion concerning a complex
matter, say a man's conduct, it is patent that unreasoned gene-
ralising in regard to that matter and the species to which it
belongs — on the mistaken assumption that one member of a
class exactly resembles all its companions — is unwarranted.
Undoubted truths are, therefore, as yet very limited, and we
should think of most of our generalisations as contingent rather
than as necessarily true.

This brings us to our second point. As we have just seen,
in the case of a chemical element or a primary mechanical
property, the existing simplicity renders elaborate generalising
superfluous and void of meaning. At the other end of the scale,
we discern such diversity that we cannot speak of classes in
the ordinary sense of the word. To reason that since Washing-
ton, Paris, London, Berlin, and Rome are capitals, therefore
their general architectural style is identical, would be to fly in
the face of the facts. Still, two landscapes may be much alike,
in which case we form the two into a class; or a certain
number of species resemble one another markedly, and we form
them into a genus. In other words, if we extend deliberately,
then all extension is generalisation, and no form of extension
should be deemed to fall outside the process of generalising.

§ 44. In science generally the number of facts —e.g., in
biology — is so prodigious that simple enumeration is commonly
precluded. Nevertheless, in many directions complete or perfect
inductions, to use the antiquated expression for generalisations,
may be obtained, and there they are in place. The present
writer was once, as a visitor, in a school-room, and asked the

1 Animal bodies, on account of their instability and their possible self-
determined motions, raise a doubt as to the legitimacy of the generalisation ;
and if even the elements should be undergoing incessant change, and electri-
cal and other influences should be all-pervasive, the doubt would be uni-
versally extended in respect of this proposition. We assume, however, that
any such internal changes or external influences are absent, and that we
discount them if they are present.

SECTION 13.— GENERALISATION OR EXTENSION. 107

teacher the ages of the children. The teacher turned to the
first boy at the right hand termination of the first row, and
inquired of him "How old are you?" Then, so soon as the
reply came, rapidly to the second boy seated next to the first
one: "And you?" and so on to the last of the twenty-five
scholars. A few minutes later the visitor inquired what social
position the children's parents occupied, and the process of
complete enumeration was repeated. In scientific activities the
completest enumeration of classes is habitually resorted to where
feasible, as for instance in the subjoined example adverting to
Faraday's researches: "He subjected bodies of the most varied
qualities to the action of his magnet: mineral salts, acids,
alkalis, ethers, alcohols, aqueous solutions, glass, phosphorus,
resins, oils, essences, vegetable and animal tissues, and found
them all amenable to magnetic influences. No known solid or
liquid proved insensible to the magnetic power when developed
in sufficient strength. All the tissues of the human body, the
blood — though it contains iron— included, were proved to be
diamagnetic." (Tyndall, Faraday as a Discoverer, p. 91.)1 Not
a few scientists would profit incalculably if they decided on
as large a survey of their subject as Bacon undertook when
examining the nature of heat, and the day is surely near when
methodologists will be agreed in the demand that Bacon's
example should be universally imitated where the facts are
ascertainable with fair ease. For instance, instead of stating
in a serious discussion that the great facts of life are nutrition,
growth, and reproduction, we ought to enumerate all the leading
factors: irritability, contractility, nutrition, adaptation, regene-
ration, growth, senescence, death, reproduction, variation, here-
dity, and evolution.

1 "All this Newton accomplished by the simple and elegant contrivance
of enclosing in a hollow pendulum the same weights of a great number of
substances the most different that could be found in all respects, as gold,
<*la<=*, wood, water, wheat, etc. . . ." (Herschel, Discourse, [179.].)

"Ramsay, in conjunction with Travers, spent several years in a hunt for
the missing elements. They heated upwards of a hundred minerals. . . .
Mineral waters were boiled, so as to expel dissolved gases. . . . Even meteo-
rites . . . were heated." (Sir William Ramsay, Essays Biographical and
Chemical, 1908, p. 153.) "By the analysis of an almost incredibly large
number of compounds, he [Berzelius] established on a firm basis the con-
stancy of the composition of compounds, and the law of multiple proportions."
(Ibid., p. 162.) To ascertain the systematic motion of stars, we are told in
the Report of the British Association for the Advancement of Science for
1908, 1800 stars from all the parts of the sky were examined (p. 604). "In
the year 1900, M. and Mme. Curie made a systematic search of these
effects in a great number of chemical elements and compounds and in many
natural minerals." (Whetham, The Recent Development of Physical Science,
pp. 200-201.)

"So fand Kepler sein drittes Gesetz, dass die Quadrate der Umlaufszeiten
der Planeten sich verhalten wie die Wiirfel ihrer mittleren Entfernungen
von der Sonne, durch eine vollstandige Induction, namlich durch eine Ver-
gleifhung der mittleren AbstSnde aller damals bekannten Planeten von der

1()8 PART IL—SOME IMPORTANT METHODOLOGICAL TERMS.

It has been objected that complete induction is the equivalent
of simple enumeration, but psychologically this does not appear
to be so. The value of the complete enumeration, exactly as
in incomplete induction, resides in the comprehensive summing
up. 1 -f- 1 is commonly written 2, or 1 -f- 1 == 2 ; but really
1 -f- 1 is not equal to 2, it is not even equal to 1 -f- 1 ; it is
1 -f- I.1 The 2 holds together the two 1's, and represents a new
fact. That is to say, since the one matter of consequence is
to arrive at a general statement, it follows that it is immaterial
whether we reach it by inference or by enumeration.2 Indeed,
the word All indicates a process of thought not involved in the
enumeration, say, of twenty objects, for, abstractly speaking,
twenty objects may be but a portion of "all" objects, whereas
by the term All we judge that the class consists of no fewer
and no more than twenty objects. "All the books in this lib-
rary are English books" (Jevons), expresses a qualitatively
different statement from "435 books in this library are English
books". A study of the mathematical notions of children be-
tween the ages of three and five would help to fix these delicate
methodological and psychological distinctions.

Sonne mit ihren Umlaufszeiten." (C. S. Cornelius, Uber die Bedeutung des
Causalprinzips in der Naturwissenschaft, Halle, 1867, p. 7.)

"One would naturally suppose that the colours and lines of mother-of-pearl
were due to the chemical or physical character of the substance itself. Sir
David Brewster, however, happened to take an impression of a piece of
mother-of-pearl in beeswax and resin, and was surprised to see the colours
reproduced upon its surface. He then took a number of other impressions
in balsam, gum-arabic, lead, etc., and found the iridescent colours repeated
in every case. In this way he proved that the colours were caused by the
form of the substance, and not by its chemical qualities or physical com-
position." (J. E. Creighton, An Introduction to Logic, pp. 202-203.)

"To determine its position [the position of the cirriped] he studied the
structure of as many genera as possible. Dr. J. E. Gray, who had already
collected a large amount of material for a monograph of the group, turned
it over to Darwin." (Frank Cramer, op. cit., pp. 49-50.) In order to ascer-
tain whether the primrose and the cowslip were different forms of the same
species, "he transplanted cowslips from the fields inlo a shrubbery, and
then into highly manured land; the next year they were protected from in-
sects, artificially fertilised", and seed grown, which was sown in a hot-bed.
The young plants were set out, some in very rich soil, some in stiff, poor
clay, some in old peat, and others in pots in the greenhouse— 765 in all."
(Ibid., pp. 82-83.)

"The presence of the fat-soluble factor . . . has also been found present
in many oils and fats derived from the animal kingdom, as for example, cod-
liver oil, shark-liver oil, beef fat, the fats of kidneys, heart muscle and liver
tissues, herring oil, cod oil, salmon oil, and whale oil." (Report on . . .
Vita mines, p. 21.)

" Sir Charles Lyell was preparing a third edition of his Principles, and, as
was his habit, visited every site in Europe where any discovery of note
had been made." (A. Keith, op. cit., p. 48.)

1 On the philosophical aspect of this problem, see Leon Brunschvicg,
Les etapes de la philosophic mathe~matique, Paris, 1912, ch. 21.

"The problem of all inferential processes is naturally this, from given
data or premisses to develop as much new truth as possible." (Lotze, Logic,
vol. 1, pp. 133-134.) It is new truths in which mankind is interested.

SECTION 13.— GENERALISATfpN OR EXTENSION. 109

In certain departments of knowledge it is hazardous to reason
from a few particulars to the general, and in those departments
enumerations tend to partake of completeness. For instance,
the population of a town or country, at a given date, as well
as many other social facts, are determined by complete enume-
ration. In the same way rain gauges, thermometrical and wind
records, graphs, questionnaires, and similar means are employed
for the purpose of obtaining a knowledge of general facts which
may afterwards form a basis for deductions. So, too, the number
of species of discovered animals and plants is counted, and a
census is taken of the host of stars. A related method is ex-
pressed by the law of averages where series of facts diverging
within certain limits are reduced to unity by extracting the
average of the series. Complete inductions play also an im-
portant part in textual criticism. The various Bibles and Classics
of the world— for instance, the sacred books of the East — have
been thus subjected to a treatment where almost every detail
is exhaustively enumerated, and nothing is taken for granted.
In these several cases the end— general statements— is identical
with ihat in incomplete inductions (which, after all, often tend to
approach completeness), and both kinds of inductions represent
methods utilised in science. Individuals are to be met with in
every walk of life who, if a moderate additional effort will secure
it, prefer the certain to the uncertain, and frequently perform
complete inductions, or the most complete ones practicable,
where they might have been satisfied with relatively incomplete
ones. Their procedure is to be commended methodologically.1

§ 45. A generalisation may, therefore, only be legitimately
attempted where appreciable time and thought would be saved
by its being posited. If, for example, some one desired to under-
stand the fundamental nature of the sensations, he would do
well to draw up, before venturing on a comparison between the
sensations with a view to learning how far they are distinct,
very complete lists of the leading characteristics of the various
senses, afterwards treating them synthetically in accordance with
Conclusions 14 to 35. In a preliminary survey — utilising § 172
more especially, and seeking pertinaciously by observation,
experiment, and comparison, for new points until no further
points reveal themselves- — he might enumerate the peculiarities

1 On complete induction, see Bradley's Logic, pp. 329-330.

- Here is the vital test of a methodology. Granted fair acquaintance with
the subject of Sound as a whole, most of the material should be directly
derived through the application of methodological rules. E.g., Conclusions 19
and 20 would inform us where to find our material; the second Table
of the Primary Categories would direct us to other important aspects; and
Conclusions 27 and 28 would further ensure exhausting the subject. Also,
since the aim is to compare, comparison will be a fertile source of sugges-
tions. The task should be thus completed in one-tenth of the time and be
of ten times greater scientific value. This is presumably what Bacon meant
by "helps" for the understanding.

HO PART II.— SOME IMPORTANT METHODOLOGICAL TERMS.

of (say) sound sensations as follows, omitting at first fine distinc-
tions :—

A. SENSE APPARATUS.— I. We connect sound with a spe-
cial sense apparatus: the two ears and their afferent continu-
ations. 2. However, sounds may, to a marked degree, reach
the internal ear directly, as seen in loud breathing with ears
closed. 3. We ordinarily hear with both ears. 4. The use of
only one ear makes comparatively little difference to the loud-
ness and to the quality of the sounds heard. (Compare with
monocular vision.) 5. In normal circumstances we cannot tell
whether we hear with both ears, except by indirect methods
or by trained attention. 6. The ears are so placed that sounds
are readily heard from all sides. 7. The ear, unlike the eye,
is never closed, presumably because of the need of alertness
to danger. 8. The ears can only be closed artificially, and even
then sound, when loud, penetrates as a rule to a certain extent.
(See also 2.) 9. As implied in 6, sounds, unlike sights, are not
readily localised in a direct line with the sense apparatus, though
"right" and "left" have a fairly definite meaning to the ears
as a* rule (e. g., sharply waving a finger close by the ear — to
the right and left, above, below, and immediately opposite,
sound is only noticeable in the last instance, and then very
distinctly). 10. The direction whence sounds emanate can be
only imperfectly ascertained through hearing alone, and exact
aural localisation in respect of direction and distance is still
more difficult (as is evidenced by dogs who are at a loss to
trace their unseen master by his voice). (Movements of the
head assist to some extent in tracing sound direction.) 11. Cer-
tain parts of the external ear and meatus may possibly be more
sensitive to auditory vibrations, and thus help to guide in the
interpretation of direction, whilst sounds (e.g., occasioned by
strong air currents), definitely coming from right or left, more
distinctly, affect the correspondingly situated ear. 12. With
sounds, unlike with sights, their close proximity to the sense
apparatus does not markedly modify them, save in regard to
loudness. 13. In intently listening, we cease moving and breath-
ing, because of the disturbing noises created in these processes.
14. Sound is received with almost complete passivity. 15. Sounds
are correspondingly aggressive in their higher reaches. 16. The
degree of loudness in a sound, like all intensity in sensations,
is not appreciated by the sense of hearing, but by the attention
mechanism.

B. MEDIUM. — 1. Sound is distinctly connected with traceable
wave media, commonly with the air ; but, as in gently rubbing
the temples, a vibration may be directly transmitted to the
internal ear. (See A 2 above.) 2. Because of 1, sounds manifest
timbre or quality, resulting from the specific form of the vibra-
tions; pitch, determined by the frequency of the vibrations; and
intensity, caused by the amplitude of the vibrations. 3. Echoes,

SECTION 13.— GENERALISATION OR EXTENSION. \\\

single and multiple, are the result of the reflection of the vibra-
tions by a spacious obstacle at a certain distance, in certain
circumstances ; and resonance results from conditions where the
sounds are strengthened or reinforced. 4. Sounds often tend
to continue beyond the action which gave rise to them, because
they are due to the vibration of objects (as when we have
ceased striking a bell with a hammer). 5. Sound waves, and
therefore sounds, travel far more slowly than light waves
(1,120 feet against 186,000 miles per second!); hence the flash
from a distant gun at night reache's us some time before the
connected explosion is heard. 6. Sound waves are quickly ex-
hausted; hence ordinary sounds in an ordinary medium are
only heard from a short distance, say up to a quarter of a
mile, and no sounds are distinguished beyond (say) 50 miles.

7. The exhaustion of sound waves is gradual; hence sounds
fade with distance, detail and diversity gradually passing away.

8. Hence, per contra, only those infinitely few sound waves and
sounds reach us which emanate from comparatively near objects,
excluding some exceptional sounds of great violence. 9. Sound
waves, and therefore sounds, are also liable to deflection, and
hence a strong wind, according to its direction, favours or
opposes sounds reaching us. 10. Non-periodic and periodic
sound vibrations are said to account for "noise" and "har-
mony". 11. Sound waves, and therefore sounds, are only par-
tially affected by most intervening objects, such as windows
or walls. 12. Sound waves, and therefore sounds, interfere and
fuse with one another (e. g., a band playing). 13. Loud sounds,
as in a busy thoroughfare, "drown" low ones, and great stillness,
as at night, contributes to the discernment of comparatively
very low sounds. 14. Sound waves of no more than about
50 vibrations and over about 20,000 vibrations, are inaudible.
15. The world of sound is sometimes given in a co-existing
and successive series (e.g., a concert).

C. OBJECTS.—l. Sounds emanate from objects. 2. Sounds
normally represent objects as a whole — in their three dimensions,
and not, as with sight, surfaces only. (Note being in a room,
and hearing some one on the floor above stamp his feet — the
whole thickness of the ceiling is involved.) 3. Sounds deal
with objects in motion, molecular and molar, there being usually
two objects concerned, the one acting, the other acted upon;
but in the case of wind, for instance, the object and the medium
are identical. 4. The source of sound in objects is a vibratory
motion— sometimes visible, sometimes palpable, also illustrated
by 2. 5. Comparative voluminousness of bodies vibrating
explains massiveness and fineness of sound. 6. Sounds vary
according to the varying composition of objects. 7. In propor-
tion to the energy of a movement or vibration, sound is per-
ceived from a shorter or longer distance. 8. Sounds differ with
consistency, size, shape, and other physical qualities of sub-

112 PART II.— SOME IMPORTANT METHODOLOGICAL TERMS.

stances. 9. Sounds possess no extremely definite qualities, such
as vision proffers us in red and green, apparently because the
constitution of objects varies indefinitely. 10. There exists, for
the above reason, no practical limit to the number of different
classes of sounds. 11. If an object is prevented from continuing
to vibrate, the sound is deadened, and where there is no vibra-
tory medium, as in a complete vacuum, no sound is producible.
12. The world of sound, unlike that of sight, is generally dis-
continuous, and generally presents a complex object by a vir-
tually single-featured sound; consequently the world of sound
is almost infinitely poorer in material presented than the world
of sight; this because sound depends on the sensible action
and vibration of objects, because such action is as a rule ex-
ceedingly rare, and because ordinary sounds are only heard
for a short distance. (Compare looking at a dog and listening
to his occasional barking, or looking at and listening to a cricket
match from a distance of a few hundred yards, but allow for
waterfalls, etc.) 13. Sounds, implying as they normally do
occasional action on the part of objects, form only a forward
time series as a rule, that is, we cannot ordinarily return to a
sound as we can to something seen. 14. Involving intermittent
action in objects, sounds generally take us by surprise.

15. Diversity, frequency, and intensity of sounds, vary with
diversity, frequency, and intensity of vibration in an object.

16. Certain classes of sounds are connected with certain classes
of objects (e.g., the sounds emitted by vibrating silver or gold).

17. Knowledge of certain sounds is frequently connected with
certain known objects (e.g., a friend's voice).

D. THE VOICE. — 1. We possess a special organ for producing
sounds, the vocal chords. 2. Sounds form the chief means of
direct communication between men (and between most terrestrial
animals). 3. Speaking is guided by hearing, and hence when
hearing becomes disordered, speech also suffers. 4. Speech
for man is both active (speaking) and passive (hearing). 5. Sinde
it is in our power to generate sounds, we can hear sound at
will, provided a vibrant medium is present and we are not
forced into silence. 6. Experimental knowledge of sounds, re-
sulting from a certain deliberate activity of the vocal chords,
etc., should be allowed for. 7. "Silent" reading and reflecting
are usually auditive in character.

E. IMAGERY, IMAGINATION, FEELING, INTELL1GENCE.-
1. Sound is second in order, sight being first, in respect of
the facility with which sensations can be imaged. 2. Subjective
sounds are represented by such sounds as singing in the ears
and hallucinations. 3. In growing tired or sleepy, and in
dreams, sound becomes either inaudible, or is disturbed or
distorted through misapprehension of its source. 4. Auditory
hallucinations are especially dangerous, because the origin of
sounds is usually problematical, sounds frequently breaking in

SECTION U.—VERIFICA TION AND PROOF. 1 1 3

on us unexpectedly. 5. Sounds have a strong pleasure-pain
quality, as music, rasping noise. 6. Loud sounds startle and
are painful. 7. Sounds stand first in order in regard to warmth
of feeling engendered. 8. Sound stands second in order, sight
being first, so far as gaining information is concerned. 9. With
the attention otherwise deeply engaged, ordinary sounds are
not heard.

F. THE MOST SALIENT FACTS.— 1. Auditory apparatus;
dependence on the occasional sensible action and vibration of
comparatively near objects, on a medium (commonly the atmo-
sphere) easily thrown into vibration by that action and also
easily disturbed, and on the vibrations of that medium reach-
ing the ears; ill-defined qualitative distinctions; lowness and
loudness, also representing remoteness and proximity, of sounds;
massiveness and fineness; together with "noise" and "har-
mony" (ambiguous terms !),J constitute the principal audile facts.

2. Sounds can be imitated by gramophone, telephone, etc.

3. Very faint noises furnish the nearest approach to feelings
or touch. -

G. TENTATIVE GENERAL CONCLUSION.— Sound sensations
are only classed separately from other sensations because of
the secondary circumstances enumerated above.3

Having somewhat fully discussed what is implied in the term
generalisation, we .may venture on an analysis of the process of
verification which properly concludes the process of generalising,
but is no less essential to observation and deduction. That
generalisations should be graded, comprehensive, important,
numerous, full, rational and relevant, original, automatically
initiated, and methodically extended, we shall learn from Con-
clusion 25.

SECTION XIV.— VERIFICATION AND PROOF.

§ 46. (A) Verification may be defined as the critical comparison
of an assertion with the data to which it is alleged to correspond,

All that we have stated of the need of meticulous, minute,
and wide examination of facts holds with double force of veri-

1 For a discussion of these two terms, see Carl Stumpf, Tonpsycholotfie,
vol. 2, 1890, § 28.

- So far as classes of facts are concerned. Bacon aimed in his tables at
complete enumeration, as niay be inferred from his enquiry into the nature
of heat and his essays on The Winds and on Life and Death. The list of
visual characteristics prepared by the author contains some three hundred
items. Only on the basis of such exhaustive analyses are we likely to
determine the fundamental peculiarities of sensations. Three centuries ago
Bacon stated that Music had received fair attention, but not Sound. In-
credible as it may appear, his dictum appears also to apply to to-day.

;! Leading works on the subject of Sound are: H. Helmholtz, Die Lehre
von den Tonempfindungen, 1877; John Tyndall, Sound, 1893; and Lord
Rayleigh, Theory of Sound, 1902. An exhaustive work is Richard Klimpert,
Lehrbuch flcr Akustik, 4 vols., 1004-1907.

8

114 PART II.— SOME IMPORTANT METHODOLOGICAL TERMS.

fication. Just as it is unscientific to generalise in an unknown
field from one or a few instances, so verification, save in a
crucial experiment, is unscientific if it only embraces one or a
few occurrences, or if it rests "upon anything but a very ex-
tensive comparison with a great mass of observed facts".
(Herschel, Discourse, [219.].) Verification is peculiarly a process
employed in the sciences, a process which is mostly omitted in
ordinary life, or else is performed in a perfunctory manner.

Verification may signify in a certain connection re-examina-
tion, as when we desire to examine the correctness of a previous
observation ; or it may mean examination, as when a generali-
sation is to be tested. Verification may also proceed by cal-
culation, as in the discovery of the planet Uranus; by reason-
ing, as when the matter to be verified is a geometrical pro-
position; or by reasoning and feeling, as when beauty and
goodness are involved. Rules as to repeated examination,
exhaustion of conditions, a critical attitude, especially apply here.
(See Conclusions 22 to 24.)

Those who favour the unceremonious framing of hypotheses
frequently maintain that no .harm will ensue provided we are
careful to verify them. In this they assume that verification
is not encircled by obstacles, whereas verifying a justifiable
hypothesis may be the work of a generation, whilst the attempt
to verify unwarranted hypotheses usually connotes an endless
task leading often to deeper and deeper misconceptions. The
decline of Rome, for instance, has found many hypothetical
explanations, any one of which may conceivably be true. It
is contended that nations decay like individuals; that the
superior types had been eliminated by the wars; that the
Barbarians rushed and crushed Rome; that growing immorality
and luxurious living robbed Rome of its stamina; and that the
introduction of malaria sapped the health of its inhabitants.
Here are five hypotheses, and it would be easy to augment
their number. The difficulty, almost an insuperable one, mani-
festly lies in proving one or more of them to be correct.
Likewise, the apparent differences in the size of the full moon
on the horizon and at the zenith, have led to the formation of
sundry hypotheses, none of which have yet been substantiated.
Premature indulgence in speculation tends, in fact, to make
confusion worse confounded, and supplies the unwary with a
trap instead of with a bridge.

There are two grades of verification — simple and deductive,
and the references above have only been to the first. In the
former case we only examine a number of impartially and
judiciously selected specimens to test the truth of a hypothetical
proposition. In the latter, we reason that if the proposition A
holds, the propositions Al, A2, A3 will also hold, and that if
we therefore perceive that Al, A 2, A3, do hold, A probably
represents the facts correctly. The supreme anxiety should be

SECTION 14.-VERIFICA TION AND PROOF. 1 1 5

to frame legitimate inferences, and for both types of verification
it is of crucial moment that the basal generalisations shall be
lucidly expressed.

§ 47. (B) Proof may be regarded as the process whereby
the truth of a statement is established beyond a reasonable
doubt. Bacon's synthetic procedure, which we follow in a
modernised form in Part V, is one eminently suitable for proving
propositions of a certain general order. By registering all rele-
vant affirmative class instances, then class instances similar
but negativing the former, then determining the degree of the
presence of a quality, then excluding automatically what is
not common to all cases, and then framing a general statement
in the form of a guarded definition, the greatest practical
assurance is obtained that we have a fully proved statement
before us. The comprehensive nature of the procedure, and
the reliance on fact rather than on sweeping hypotheses, further
accentuate its evidential value, especially when supplementary
dialectical methods, such as Bacon suggests, or as are suggested
in Conclusions 27 and 28, are employed to ensure that nothing
escapes from the closely woven meshes.

John Stuart Mill, following Bacon and Herschel, proposed,
as we have seen, five decisive methods of testing statements
dealing with causes: the Canons of Agreement, Difference,
Joint Method of Difference and Agreement, Residue, and Con-
comitant Variation. (For details, see § 17.) These should be
all applied when practicable. However, two factors need to
be taken into account in respect of them. First, that the pro-
gressive nature of truth most rarely admits of the rigorous
application of these Canons, and, secondly, that, as a matter
of fact, most present-day scientific enquiries are in too un-
developed a condition to permit the Canons being frequently
utilised, except tentatively. And what holds of causal, holds
equally of static, facts.

Canons of probability are, therefore, needdd, both in regard
to static and dynamic phenomena, to supplement Mill's Canons.
The principal ones applied to a hypothesis are general agreement
with existing knowledge, withstanding deductive tests, leading
to new truths, and not being invalidated by fresh information.
However, many hypotheses are working hypotheses, and admit-
tedly do not harmonise with all the recognised facts. Further-
more, the special sciences apply, in addition, auxiliary tests.
In chemistry, reagents; in geology and in the historical sciences,
analogy; in botany, the test of fitting into the botanical scheme
of classification ; in physiology, staining; and in other sciences,
other acknowledged tests, are resorted to. Simple verification,
instrumental or otherwise, is a further criterion. To be sure,
every science acts as such as a check upon alleged additions
to knowledge, and almost invariably it possesses special methods
for testing its particular "class of truths. In art and in conduct

116 PART II— SOME IMPORTANT METHODOLOGICAL TERMS.

the principal appeal would be probably to the achievements
of the great masters (as representing the flood level of great
epochs) and to educated thought and feeling.

As the interdependence, of facts obtrudes itself more and
more on the consciousness of men of science, they are less
and less inclined to seek for laws of nature or, what is their
equivalent, general facts to which no exception can be dis-
covered.1 At the same time it is the earnest concern of science
to arrive at irreproachable statements, for only these can be
entirely relied on or fully utilised for deductive purposes. Such
statements should not be, however, platitudinarian, for to state
that gold is always yellow, the wind-lashed sea invariably
vocal, or that "air has weight",2 would be puerile. Given, then,
a comprehensive and pregnant law established, we can defi-
nitely prove or disprove a statement by observing whether it
comports in all respects with the law. This is the highest
order of proof available at present and, strictly speaking, the
only unambiguous kind of proof. As Herschel declares: "The
grand and indeed only character of truth is its capability of
enduring the test of universal experience and coming unchanged
out of every possible form of fair discussion." (Discourse, [6.].)
Next in order follow the large working hypotheses in science
which represent provisional laws, and are employed as a staple
test.

Although, of course, preferring irrefragable proof, the man
of science naturally accommodates himself to whatever degree

1 "If I might impress any caution upon your minds, it is the utterly
conditional nature of all our knowledge — the danger of neglecting the process
of verification under any circumstances; and the film upon which we rest,
the moment our deductions carry us beyond the reach of this great process
of verification. There is no better instance of this than is afforded by the
history of our knowledge of the circulation of the blood in the animal
kingdom until the year 1824. In every animal possessing a circulation at
all, which had been observed up to that time, the current of the blood was
known to take one definite and invariable direction. Now, there is a class
of animals called ascidians, which possess a heart and a circulation, and
up to the period of which I speak no one would have dreamt of questioning
the propriety of the deduction that these creatures have a circulation in
one direction; nor would anyone have thought it worth while to verify the
point. But in that year M. von Hasselt, happening to examine a transparent
animal of this class, found to his infinite surprise that after the heart had
beat a certain number of times it stopped, and then began beating the
opposite way, so as to reverse the course of the current, which returned
by-and-by to its original direction. I have myself timed the heart of these
little animals. I found it as regular as possible in its periods of reversal :
and I know no spectacle in the animal kingdom more wonderful than that
which it presents — all the more wonderful that, to this day, it remains a
unique fact, peculiar to this class, among the whole animate world. At the
same time, I know of no more striking case of the necessity of the veri-
fication of even those deductions which seem founded in the widest and
safest inductions." (T. H. Huxlev, Twelve Lectures and Essays, ed. 1908,
pp. 13-14.)

- Mill, Logic, bk. 3, ch. 4, § 1.

SECTION 14.—VERIFICA TION AND PROOF. 117

of demonstration is obtainable; but, strange to say, in the
cultural sciences verification or proof worthy the name is seldom
striven after, robbing the statements there made of all sterling
value.

§ 48. "The words 'truth', 'truism', 'rule', 'generalisation', 'uniformity',
'regularity', and 'principles' are all often loosely used as more or less
nearly synonymous with the word 'law'. But it is important that they
be discriminated from one another, for the word 'law' has become pecu-
liarly specialised. Without stopping to define all of the above terms, it
must be said at once that most, if not all, of the so-called laws in the
social sciences belong to one of the above categories— that is, they are
generalisations, uniformities or principles, rather than laws in the sense
in which the physical sciences would use that word. Thus Comte's
famous Law of the Three States is only a generalisation; while the so-
called law of least effort (that the greatest gain is always sought for the
least effort) is really a psychological principle. Now exactness in the
use of terms is desirable in science; hence it is important that we inquire
into the exact meaning which the word 'law' has acquired in the older
sciences— the physical sciences. At first in the physical sciences law
meant the manifestation of an outer force, controlling the action of things.
But as the passive view of nature came to be given up, it came to mean
merely the uniform way in which things occur. Later, under the influence
of the growth of the mechanical view of nature, law came to mean a
fixed, unchanging, and so necessary relation between forces. The concept
of a law of nature thus became deeply tinged with the idea of physical
necessity. Indeed, in the physical sciences, it became practically synony-
mous with physical necessity. Hence the expression 'eternal iron laws',
embodying the idea that nature is a theatre of mechanical necessities."
(Charles A. Ellwood, Sociology in its Psychological Aspects, 1912,
pp. 74-75.)

"Wo immer uns Erscheinungen in derselben Form der Aufemander-
folge oder der Koexistenz entgegentreten, da sprechen wir von einem
dieser Gleichformigkeit zugrunde liegenden Gesetze. Es ist das offenbar
nur eine Analogic oder Metapher. Das Urbild desselben ist dem politi-
schen Leben entnommen. Wenn ein Gesetz fur bestimmte Falle die Beob-
achtung eines bestimmten Vorganges anbefiehlt, so geschieht dieses in
alien beziiglichen Fallen in derselben durch das Gesetz vorgeschriebenen
Form. Wo wir also in der Natur eine Erscheinung in derselben Form
sich wiederholen sehen, da stellen wir uns die Sache der grosseren Ver-
standlichkeit wegen so vor, als ob diese Gleichformigkeit die Folge irgend-
eines hfiheren, in einem Gesetz sich verko'rpernden Willens ware, und
sprechen kurzweg von einem Gesetz dieser Erscheinungen. Wir erlangen
durch diese Metapher fur eine Reihenfolge von Erscheinungen einen leicht
verstandlichen Ausdruck, eine einfache Formel." (L. Gumplowicz, Grund-
riss der Soziologie, 1905, pp. 103-104.)

"It is the custom in science, wherever regularity of any kind can be
traced, to call the general proposition which expresses that regularity a
law." (Mill, Logic, bk. 3, ch. 4, § 1.)

"We may regard a law of nature either, 1st, as a general propositi
announcing, in abstract terms, a whole group of particular facts relating
to the behaviour of natural agents in proposed circumstances; or, 2ndly,
as a proposition announcing thg|£a whole class of individuals agreeing
in one character agree also in anolher." (Herschel, Discourse, [91.].)

Since the term law, in its political acceptation, incorporates the con-
ception, at the one end, of arbitrary and ruthless decrees and, at the
other end historically, of a mature decision by a democratic assembly
aiming in a humane manner at the welfare of the whole community, it
is indispensable to bear in mind the evolution of political law when
interpreting the signification of law in the scientific sense.

118 PART II.— SOME IMPORTANT METHODOLOGICAL TERMS.

SECTION XV.— DEDUCTION.

§ 49. In a generalised statement much is often comprised
which was not suspected at first.1 In consequence, when we
have reached our plain generalisation, and have embodied it
in a transparent definition, we begin to seek for all that it
involves. Here we do not rise from the minor to the major,
as in induction, but we descend from the major to the minor.
This process is named deduction, and is often of paramount
significance. Theoretically we might imagine a complete induc-
tion which exhausts every possible aspect, even to the past
and the future; in practice, however, comparatively few aspects
can be taken into consideration in an enquiry by a single
scholar. When, then, a generalisation is proposed or established,
we may descend in various ways to groups of particulars.
Manifestly, deductive reasoning forms an essential component
of the scientific process of investigation, and science would be
decidedly the poorer if the deductive process were discarded.
We may define deduction as that portion of a scientific enquiry
which, starting from a given statement, seeks to draw out its
implications in a desired direction or generally.

Deduction is especially fruitful and safe where exact and
quantitative determinations have been reached. Here the pre-
cise form of the generalisation allows of the fullest and minutest
deduction, as, for instance, in astronomy and mechanics. Mathe-
matics is, therefore, of increasing value as science progresses,
and accordingly, when most developed, science tends to clothe
itself in mathematical garb, i.e., tends to become deductive.
This is no reflection, as is often assumed, on the inductive and
reputedly non-mathematical method, for this method not only
prevails, but is necessarily supreme, in all but the last stages
of a science. We must be first cognisant of the rudimentary
facts yielded by an examination of relevant data, then reach
a sufficient number of wide generalisations, then embody these
in a crisp definition, and only after this can we securely and
with distinct advantage proceed deductively when weighty issues
are involved. Hence observation, generalisation, definition, and
deduction form interrelated component parts of one method.

Descartes searched in his mind for a clear and distinct idea
which he finally imagined that he had discovered. This dis-
covery he expressed in the now celebrated postulate Cogito,

-1 "Axioms, duly and orderly formed from particulars, easily discover the
way to new particulars, and thus render sciences active." (Bacon, Novuin
Organum, bk. 1, 24.) "All true and fruitful natural philosophy hath a double
scale or ladder, ascendent and descendent, ascending from experiments, to
the invention of causes; and descending from causes, to the invention of
new experiments." (Bacon, Advancement of Learning, bk. 2.) And, rightly,
"that method of discovery and proof according to which the most general
principles are first established, and then intermediate axioms are tried and
proved by them, is the parent of error and the curse of all science". (Novuin
Organum, bk. 1, 69.) "The deductive method . . . consists of three operations—

SECTION 15. —DEDUCT/ON. j j 9

ergo sum. He then proceeded to deduce from this statei

n

and here once more he came into contact, if not in coSn
w,th empirical data.' The difference, then between Drearies
and modern men of science is only that the latter assign a
more prominent position to induction, and not that the
proceeds deductively and the other inductively Bacon feehn
that he stood at the threshold of science, and that the' method
of hasty generalisations succeeded by hasty deductions h™d I

n,l I*"!? i °f f .0neOUS theories> almost denounced the deduc
tive and almost ignored the connected mathematical met od *
Descartes, absorbed in mathematical studiestTnclfned to the
ther extreme, and restricted the influence of induction weUn £h

but I3!1" J^ PR0int ,WUh Descartes will he the f?n7 Wumph
only after Bacon's method shaH have paved the way

' T*"*0"' ^ third,

are base „„

.

even in the case of 1fferhPpT ^ • T fe^ convinced by deduction,

extended staten"""

120 PART II.— SOME IMPORTANT METHODOLOGICAL TERMS.

Aristotle's syllogism can neither be identified with the induc-
tive nor altogether with the deductive method. This is owing
to the fact that not only is the mode of obtaining major pre-
mises regarded as alien to the subject, but no provision is made,
outside the reasoning process itself, for substantiating the con-
clusion reached. Strictly speaking, it represents a mode of
testing a statement as to its consistency with a more general
proposition, and may be said to be applicable where major and
minor premise are already demonstrated.1

Generalisation begins with the examination of the data. With
deduction the opposite obtains, i.e., examination principally
concerns itself with the verification of the deduction. With
this stage reached, the main scientific process of investigation
is completed on the theoretical side, save in so far as new
investigations are suggested. Jevons truly says: "The in-
vestigator begins with facts and ends with them. He uses facts
to suggest probable hypotheses; deducing other facts which
would happen if a particular hypothesis is true, he proceeds
to test the truth of his notion by fresh observations." (The
Principles of Science, p. 509.)-

1 For instance, the following would be a correct syllogism: —

All men are immortal;

My dog Cato is a man;

Therefore my dog Cato is immortal.

Or, All multicellular beings are unicellular;

This mathematical point is a multicellular being;
Therefore this mathematical point is unicellular.

- A knowledge of facts makes a profound difference to the nature of a
hypothesis and to the possibility of proving it or disproving it with fair ease.
We may illustrate this from Arrhenius' theory of panspermia. Desirous of
proving that life may have reached our globe from other spheres, he assumes
that life might be transferred from world to world in the form of micro-
scopically minute spores. He states that the rate at which such a spore would
fall is so small that favourable upward currents of air could waft it upwards
a hundred miles, to the limit of our atmosphere. There it might take up
negative electricity, and be driven out into interplanetary space by other
particles positively charged. Then the radiation pressure of the sun would
drive it out into stellar space. Finally, it might find a resting place, aftei^
travelling for some thousands of years, and there it might introduce life or
augment the existing life. Each step in this theory of Arrhenius, including
the assumption of the existence of microscopic spores, is based not on bare
suppositions, but on scientific knowledge of the first order, and in this
Arrhenius only follows the common practice among scientists. If the spores
and the other circumstances had been merely postulated, we should have
had an illustration of the ancient and useless conception of a deduction.
Mendelyeffs assumption that the ether is a chemical element incapable of
forming combinations, is similarly deduced from recent enquiries which in-
dicate that such inert elements exist.

Here are instances where the basis of the reasoning is of a very hypo-
thetical character. "Of supposed structural life units there is a great variety.
Besides the gemmules of Darwin, there were the physiological units of
Herbert Spencer. Professor Haeckel . . . has structural units of his own which
he terms plastidules. . . . Then came Nageli, the great botanist, who spoke

SECTION 15.— DEDUCTION. 121

On circumspectly examining the scope of deductive procedure,
it becomes patent that an investigation conducted according to
strict scientific rules involves the application of deduction almost
as frequently as that of generalisation. Just as from time to
time the investigator pushes his enquiry forward, so he loses
no occasion for testing the next step which he proposes to make
by sounding its implications. That is, instead of securing all
his middle axioms by induction, he arrives at many of them
through deduction. Naturally, therefore, when he has reached
his final generalisation, and has embodied it in a concise state-
ment, he will not neglect the momentous duty of probing it
deductively. Thus deduction is no stranger to generalisation,
and by further compelling exactness in statement at every
turn, it is of double benefit to him who generalises.

A deduction to be scientifically permissible and serviceable
must be grounded on a proposition well rooted in verified data,
for without this we are back in the age of scholasticism and
obscurantism. In fact, in modern enquiries a large number of
verified propositions are commonly employed to enable a single
deduction to be made. Theoretically speaking, it might be as
convenient to discover classes of facts by going backwards as by
proceeding forwards. In practice, however, the reverse is empha-
tically the case, and this constitutes the justification for seeking
for the fullest, as for the most comprehensive, generalisations.
For example, by attentively watching an individual who is
quick in his ways, we might finally discern the rationale of
quickness — "a settled and eager desire to be expeditious,
coupled with fair intelligence, study of others who are ex-
peditious, and adequate practice", from which the diverse
methods he employs should follow logically. Yet, in reality,
the mere knowledge of the statement which subsumes the
inductive enquiry would deductively yield with great difficulty
a paucity of information, and much of this would be spurious.
Granted, however, the inductive statement, and a certain
number of the details on which it is based to illustrate its
inwardness, and methodised deductive procedure (see Con-
clusion 31) will yield substantial additions. For the sake,
therefore, of deduction, we plead that generalisations shall be
as full as possible, in order that the task imposed on it shall
not be excessive.

If a deduction needs to be rooted in justifiable generalisations
or facts, it must be no less subject to rigid verification, for a
merely plausible deduction has no more value than a merely
specious generalisation. Deduction, again, is fertile, in proportion

of Idioplasma-Teilchen. Then Weisner, also a botanist, who spoke of the
Plassomes. Our own Prof. Whitman attributed to his life units certain other
essential qualities and called them idiosomes. A German zoologist, Haake,
has called them gemmules. Another German writer, a Leipsic anatomist
Altmann, calls them granuli." (C. S. Minot, op.cit., pp. 234-235.)

122 PART II.- SOME IMPORTANT METHODOLOGICAL TERMS.

as it can depend at every juncture on already verified classes
of facts, without which its path leads straight into a morass of
idle suppositions, as the last Section has shown.

The layman who does not pretend to originate or exhaus-
tively scrutinise scientific theories, cannot be invited to verify
everything he hears, and the chief responsibility rests hence
on the experts who are either the inventors or the protagonists
of a theory. For instance, during the last generation, a move-
ment has become fairly popular which demands that since
natural and artificial selection is the law which governs advance
in the animal world, this law should be respected in regard to
the human species; and, consequently, this movement maintains,
the utmost should be attempted to encourage the fit1 to pro-
duce abundance of offspring and the unfit'2 to produce none.
Taking their stand on this doctrine, some extremists deductively
argue that the "lower" races and "lower" classes (according
to them four-fifths of mankind perhaps) should be sternly re-
pressed and legislated against, whilst other champions of this
view contend that scientific breeding and regimentation should
replace marriage and family life. In this place we are only
concerned with the initial deduction, and we therefore ask our-
selves whether it has been solidly proven that, first, in the
animal world generally selection is the principal law, and, se-
condly, that this law partly or wholly applies to the human
world. Assuming the first as settled affirmatively, we may
consider it legitimate to infer tentatively that selection should
not be disregarded in the human species; but scientific pro-
cedure requires proof that the human species does not con-
stitute an exception. This, however, has not been seriously
attempted by the teachers and preachers of eugenics, and the
position is that, without scientific warrant, grave and far-reaching
social proposals are confidently put forward, proposals which
withdraw all protection from the poor and give carte blanche
to the well-to-do. As we have endeavoured to indicate in our
Preliminary Considerations and in other places, especially in
Conclusion 13, the human- individual is primarily adapted for
the specio-psychic state, that is, he is part of a complex pan-
human civilisation developed through the ages by the inventions
and discoveries of the mass of men and women, and per-
petuated solely by traditions, imitation, and teaching. Human
progress, in consequence, depends first and foremost on cultural,
and not on biological, advance. A small dose of Baconian con-
tempt for haphazard and unverified generalisations and deduc-
tions would have delivered mankind from this theory and from
legions of kindred ones, and methodologists cannot but deplore
the many superfluous and extravagant theories which clog the
wheel of human progress. It is, therefore, indispensable that

1 and - See § 143 for a definition of these terms.

SECTION 16.— DEFINITE, EXACT, AND MATHEMATICAL PROCEDURE. 123

however colourable a deduction may appear to be, it should
be scrupulously verified — above all, needless to say, in matters
of life and death. The time should have passed when men,
in particular scholars and propagandists, are satisfied with a
collection, small or large, of affirmative instances or pretentious
deductions. We should insist that he who claims to be a
specialist, should, as an elementary duty, rigorously verify his
observations, generalisations, and deductions.

SECTION XVI.— DEFINITE, EXACT, AND MATHEMATICAL PRO-
CEDURE.

§ 50. (A) THE CASE FOR MATHEMATICAL PROCE-
DURE.— If it be queried why highly developed sciences should
tend to assume mathematical form, and why complete absence
of mathematical apparatus argues crudity in any sphere of
knowledge, the answer is near at hand. The sciences ruled by
mathematics appear to be the only exact sciences, and accord-
ingly every science, since it strives to be exact, must needs
strive to be mathematical.1 Out in the world of practice, ideas
are protean in character: a new meaning develops out of an
old one because a new need has arisen, and this meaning
gradually passes, for the same reason, from one shape to
another, a single word representing the multifarious meanings.
Analyse the terms morality, duty, virtue, ought,- for instance,
and observe how they alter in signification from age to age,
from country to country, and, to some extent, from individual to
individual, and even from occasion to occasion. These terms,
which are among our current ethical coin, symbolise countless
attitudes and actions, and this is approximately true of words
in general. Now mathematical procedure rescues us almost
totally from this vertiginous chaos. It measures phenomena,
and reduces data to a form which is as inflexible and universal
as the every-day terminology is accommodating and individual.
Once we have reached the mathematical level, it is no longer
necessary to define by indefinable terms, or explain by offering
equivocal illustrations. We are able then to make statements
which it is practically impossible to misconstrue, and which
therefore convey precisely the same signification to all persons
alike. Hence, perhaps, no science can be said to be fully estab-
lished so long as it is entirely or even fractionally non-mathe-
matical.

1 "Inquiries into nature have the best result, when they begin with physics
and end in mathematics." (Bacon, Novum Organum, bk. 2, 8.)

- "The word represented by 'cause' has sixty-four meanings in Plato and
forty-eight in Aristotle. These were men who liked to know as near as might
be what they meant; but how many meanings it has had in the writings
of the myriads of people who have not tried to know what they meant by
it will, I hope, never be counted." (W. K. Clifford, Lectures and Essays,
ed. 1918, p. 35.)

124 PART II.— SOME IMPORTANT METHODOLOGICAL TERMS.

Clifford lucidly sums up the practical difficulties involved in attaining
to complete exactness. We make no apology for quoting him at length:
"When a student is first introduced to those sciences which have come
under the dominion of mathematics, a new and wonderful aspect of Nature
bursts upon his view. He has been accustomed to regard things as essen-
tially more or less vague. All the facts that he has hitherto known have
been expressed qualitatively, with a little allowance for error on either
side. Things which are let go fall to the ground. A very observant man
may know also that they fall faster as they go along. But our student
is shown that, after falling for one second in a vacuum, a body is going
at the rate of thirty-two feet per second, that after falling for two seconds
it is going twice as fast, after going two and a half seconds two and a
half times as fast. If he makes the experiment, and finds a single inch
per second too much or too little in the rate, one of two things must
have happened: either the law of falling bodies has been wrongly stated,,
or the experiment is not accurate — there is some mistake. He finds reason
to think that the latter is always the case; the more carefully he goes
to work, the more of the error turns out to belong to the experiment.
Again, he may know that water consists of two gases, oxygen and hydrogen,
combined; but he now learns that two pints of steam at a temperature
of 150° centigrade will always make two pints of hydrogen and one pint
of oxygen at the same temperature, all of them being pressed as much
as the atmosphere is pressed. If he makes the experiment, and gets rather
more or less than a pint of oxygen, is the law disproved? No; the steam
was impure, or there was some mistake. Myriads of analyses attest the
law of combining volumes; the more carefully they are made, the more
nearly they coincide with it. The aspects of the faces of a crystal are
connected together by a geometrical law, by which, four of them being"
given, the rest can be found. The place of a planet at a given time is
calculated by the law of gravitation; if it is half a second wrong, the fault
is in the instrument, the observer, the clock, or the law; now, the more
observations are made, the more of this fault is brought home to the
instrument, the observer, and the clock. . . .

At this point we have to make a very important distinction. There are
two ways in which a law may be inaccurate. The first way is exemplified
by that law of Galileo which I mentioned just now: that a body falling
in vacuo acquires equal increase in velocity in equal times. No matter
how many feet per second it is going, after an interval of a second it
will be going thirty-two more feet per second. We now know that this
rate of increase is not exactly the same at different heights, that it depends
upon the distance of the body from the centre of the earth; so that the
law is only approximate ; instead of the increase of velocity being exactly
equal in equal times, it itself increases very slowly as the body falls.
We know also that this variation of the law from the truth is too small
to be perceived by direct observation on the change of velocity. But
suppose we have invented means for observing this, and have verified
that --the increase of velocity is inversely as the squared distance from
the earth's centre. Still the law is not accurate; for the earth does not
attract accurately towards her centre, and the direction of attraction is
continually varying with the motion of the sea; the body will not even
fall in a straight line. The sun and the planets, too, especially the moon,
will produce deviations; yet the sum of all these errors will escape our
new process of observation by being a great deal smaller than the neces-
sary errors of that observation. But when these again have been allowed
for, there is still the influence of the stars. In this case, however, we
only give up one exact law for another. It may still be held that if the
effect of every particle of matter in the universe on the falling body were
calculated according to the law of gravitation, the body would move exactly
as this calculation required. And if it were objected that the body must
be s}ightly magnetic or diamagnetic, while there are magnets not an infinite
way off; that a very minute repulsion, even at sensible distances, accom-

SECTION 16.— DEFINITE, EXACT, AND MATHEMATICAL PROCEDURE. 125

panies the attraction ; it might be replied that these phenomena are them-
selves subject to exact laws, and that when all the laws have been taken
into account, the actual motion will exactly correspond with the calculated
motion. . . .

"The word 'exact '-has a practical and a theoretical meaning. When a
grocer weighs you out a certain quantity of sugar very carefully and says
it is exactly a pound, he means that the difference between the mass of
the sugar and that of the pound weight he employs is too small to be
detected by his scales. If a chemist had made a special investigation,
wishing to be as accurate as he could, and told you this was exactly a
pound of sugar, he would mean that the mass of the sugar differed from
that of a certain standard piece of platinum by a quantity too small to
be detected by his means of weighing, which are a thousandfold more
accurate than the grocer's. But what would a mathematician mean, if he
made the same statement? He would mean this. Suppose the mass of
the standard pound to be represented by a length, say a foot, measured
on a certain line ; so that half a pound would be represented by six inches,
and so on. And let the difference between the mass of the sugar and
that of the standard pound be drawn upon the same line to the same
scale. Then, if that difference were magnified an infinite number of times,
it would still be invisible. This is the theoretical meaning of exactness;
the practical meaning is only very close approximation; how close, de-
pends upon the circumstances. The knowledge, then, of an exact law in
the theoretical sense would be equivalent to an infinite observation. I do
not say that such knowledge is impossible to man, but I do say that it
would be absolutely different in kind from any knowledge that we possess
at present." (Op. cit., pp. 27-29 )

The argument in favour of the preferability of mathematical
procedure in science is therefore complete. As Lord Kelvin
says: "In physical science a first essential step in the direction
of learning any subject is to find principles of numerical reckoning
and practicable methods for measuring some quality connected
with it. I often say that when you can measure what you are
speaking about, and express it in numbers, you know something
about it; but when you cannot measure it, when you cannot
express it in numbers, your knowledge is of a meager and
unsatisfactory kind: it may be the beginning of knowledge,
but you have scarcely, in your thought, advanced to the stage of
science, whatever the matter may be." (Constitution of Matter,
1891, pp. 80-81.) Yet much maybe accomplished without recon-
dite mathematical formulae. We have it on Jevons' authority
that Faraday "has made the most extensive additions to human
knowledge without passing beyond common arithmetic". (Prin-
ciples of Science, p. 579.) And Tyndall, who concurs in Jevons'
estimate concerning Faraday's lack of mathematical equipment,
says of him: "Taking him for all in all, I think it will be
concede^ that Michael Faraday was the greatest experimental
philosopher the world has ever seen." (Faraday as a Discoverer,
p. 147.) It should not be supposed, therefore, that every distin-
guished discoverer is ipso facto a great mathematician, or, to
consider the reverse side of the shield, that there is no extensive
scope for measurement and computation in the ordinary practical
affairs of life.

126 PART II.— SOME IMPORTANT METHODOLOGICAL TERMS.

§ 51. The case for measurement can be perhaps best stated
by allowing an old writer, the founder of methodology, one
who has been regarded as unfriendly to mathematics, to speak
(Bacon, Novum Organum, bk. 2, 44, 45, and 46): "The chief
cause of failure in operation (especially after natures have been
diligently investigated) is the ill determination and measurement
of the forces and actions of bodies. Now the forces and actions
of bodies are circumscribed and measured, either by distances of
space, or by moments of time, or by concentration of quantity,
or by predominance of virtue; and unless these four things
have been weH and carefully weighed, we shall have sciences,
fair perhaps in theory, but in practice inefficient." "The powers
and motions of things act and take effect at distances, not in-
definite or accidental, but finite and fixed ; so that to ascertain
and observe these distances in the investigation of the several
natures is of the greatest advantage. . . . But whether the
distances at which these powers act be great or small, it is
certain that they are all finite and fixed in the nature of things,
so that there is a certain limit never exceeded; and a limit
which depends either on the mass or quantity of matter in the
bodies acted on ; or on the strength or weakness of the powers
acting; or on the helps or hindrances presented by the media
in which they act; all which things should be observed and
brought to computation. Moreover, the measurements of violent
motions (as they are called), as of projectiles, guns, wheels,
and the like, since these also have manifestly their fixed limits,
should be observed and computed." "All these things with
their measures should in the investigation of nature be explored
and set down, either in their certitude, or by estimate, or by
comparison as the case will admit." "All motion or natural
action is performed in time; some more quickly, some more
slowly, but all in periods determined and fixed in the nature
of things. Even those actions which seem to be performed
suddenly and (as we say) in the twinkling of an eye, are found
to admit of degree in respect of duration. First, then, we see
that the revolutions of heavenly bodies are accomplished in
calculated times; as also the flux and reflux of the sea. The
motion of heavy bodies to the earth, and of light bodies towards
the heavens, is accomplished in definite periods, varying with
the bodies moved and the medium through which they move.
The sailing of ships, the movements of animals, the transmission
of missiles, are all performed likewise in times which admit (in
the aggregate) of measurement. As for heat, we see . boys in
winter time bathe their hands in flame without being burned,
and jugglers by nimble and equable movements turn vessels
full of wine or water upside down and then up again, without
spilling the liquid; and many other things of a similar kind.
The compressions also and expansions and eruptions of bodies
are performed, some more slowly, according to the nature of

SECTION 16.— DEFINITE, EXACT, AND MATHEMATICAL PROCEDURE. 127

the body and motion, but in certain periods. Moreover, in the
explosion of several guns at once, which are heard sometimes
to the distance of thirty miles, the sound is caught by those
who are near the spot where the discharge is made, sooner
than by those who are at a greater distance. Even in sight,
whereof the action is most rapid, it appears that there are
required certain moments of time for its accomplishment; as
is shown by those things which by reason of the velocity of
their motion cannot be seen — as when a ball is discharged from
a musket. For the ball flies past in less time than the image
conveyed to the sight requires to produce an impression."

The application of the higher mathematics to science evidently
had its origin in the difficulties encountered in direct measure-
ment, difficulties which made recourse to complex calculations
inevitable.1 On this subject also, we venture to quote Bacon.
This will serve a double purpose, demonstrating both the high
scientific and philosophic status of mathematics, and their
generous appreciation by Bacon. The gay medievalism of the
style renders the more remarkable the sober modernity of the
conceptions embodied therein.

"There remaineth yet another part of natural philosophy,
which is commonly made a principal part, and holdeth rank
with physic special, and metaphysic, which is mathematic ; but
I think it more agreeable to the nature of things, and to the
light of order, to place it as a branch of metaphysic: for the
subject of it being quantity, not quantity indefinite, which is but
a relative, and belongeth to philosophia prima, as hath been
said, but quantity determined, or proportionable, it appeareth to
be one of the essential forms of things ; as that that is causative
in nature of a number of effects ; insomuch as we see, in the
schools both of Democritus and Pythagoras, that the one did
ascribe Figure to the first seeds of things, and the other did
suppose Numbers to be the principles and originals of things ;
and it is true also, that of all other forms, as we understand
forms, it is the most abstracted and separable from matter,
and therefore most proper to metaphysic ; which hath likewise
been the cause why it hath been better laboured and enquired,
than any of the other forms, which are more immersed in
matter.

"For it being the nature of the mind of man (to the extreme
prejudice of knowledge) to delight in the spacious liberty of
generalities, as in a champaign region, and not in the inclosures
of particularity; the mathematics of all other knowledge were
the goodliest fields to satisfy the appetite.

"The Mathematics are either pure or mixed. To the pure
mathematics are those sciences belonging which handle quantity

1 A comprehensive survey of this problem will be found in Leon Brun-
schvicg's work already cited.

128 PART II.-SOME IMPORTANT METHODOLOGICAL TERMS.

determinate, merely severed from any axioms of natural philo-
sophy; and these are two, Geometry and Arithmetic; the one
handling quantity continued, and the other dissevered. Mixed
hath for subject some axioms or parts of natural philosophy,
and considereth quantity determined, as it is auxiliary and
incident unto them.

"For many parts of nature can neither be invented with
sufficient subtilty, nor demonstrated with sufficient perspicuity,
nor accommodated unto use with sufficient dexterity, without
the aid and the intervening of the mathematics ; of which sort
are perspective, music, astronomy, cosmography, architecture,
enginery, and divers others.

"In the mathematics I can report no deficience, except it be
that men do not sufficiently understand the excellent use of
the pure mathematics, in that they do remedy and cure many
defects in the wit and faculties intellectual. For, if the wit be
dull, they sharpen it; if too wandering, they fix it; if too
inherent in the sense, they abstract it. So that as tennis is
a game of no use in itself, but of great use in respect it maketh
a quick eye, and a body ready to put itself into all postures;
so in the mathematics, that use which is collateral and inter-
venient, is no less worthy than that which is principal and
intended." (Advancement of Learning.)

§ 52. (B) DEFINITION OF TERMS.— However, a bridge
exists connecting mathematical rigidity with commonsense flui-
dity. This bridge comes into being so soon as a science com-
mences to define its terms with fair precision, and makes itself
thus independent of a fluctuating terminology.

Where the conceptions are, as in physics, of severe simplicity,
it is frequently practicable to define them, though not without
having to allow for the ambiguities incidental to the complexity
of objects and to the readjustments necessitated by new dis-
coveries. Every science must thus aim at evolving a termino-
logy of its own where each term is unequivocally defined,
and a science is therefore progressing indifferently when it is
without a terminology which is being fashioned more and more
to assume the form of a series of unvarying and universally
accepted definitions, as in the nomenclature of chemistry and
the terminology of botany. It is patent that we cannot satis-
factorily define what we are acquainted with only imperfectly,
and that if knowledge can only be acquired by degrees, a defini-
tion cannot be flawless all at once, but must grow in exactitude.
For this reason, the least advanced sciences are in a sorry
predicament. This is particularly noticeable where the termino-
logy of a science is bodily transferred from the every-day
terminology; and the evil reaches the highwater mark when
the tacit assumption prevails, as in psychology and ethics, that
the terminology of the market place is substantially satisfactory,
and that there is consequently no need for its improvement

SECTION 16.-DEFINITE, EXACT, AND MATHEMATICAL PROCEDURE. 129

or definition.1 Such an attitude is manifestly erroneous. Rather
should there be from the very first the most determined resolve
to define terms as accurately as possible, to ensure that the
term is comprehensive in meaning, and to remodel the defini-
tions incessantly according to need. The indeterminateness of
language constitutes one of the weightiest reasons for pressing
an enquiry to the furthest limits practicable in order to obtain
the maximum of clearness and definiteness, and this indeter-
minateness presents also the heaviest indictment against a loose
or undefined use of terms in science. Ideally speaking, there-
fore, individual investigations pertaining to a new science should
extend to a life-time, should be pursued with eyes ever vigilant
to detect new facts and new relations, and should restlessly aim
at an increasingly exact, exhaustive, durable, and convenient
terminology. A science, then, commences in perplexing indefi-
niteness, and tends to terminate in dogmatic definiteness. It
is even indispensable that there should be a clear consciousness
of the inappropriateness of attempting, at the beginning of a
new investigation, to cast the results achieved into a mathemati-
cal mould, just as it should be an ambition and aspiration from
the first to attain to progressively greater exactitude and, even-
tually, to mathematical formulation.

§ 53. (C) PRECISION IN STATEMENTS— If precision in the
use of terms is the pre-requisite of accurate scientific activity,
precision in general statements is its crowning glory. A vague
terminology bewilders the inquirer and gravely impedes advance,
and the circumstances are only slightly less disastrous when
instead of cautiously framed definitions, we are faced by an
interminable series of more or less nebulous generalisations..
The methodological ideal is evidently that the material results
of an enquiry should be presented (as by Spinoza) in a chain
of definitions, accompanied by pithy explanations and a few apt
illustrations, because just as in the attempt to define terms
exactly, the maximum of error is eliminated, the endeavour
precisely to define general truths leads to a degree of reliability
in results otherwise scarcely ever attained. Any attempt at
consistent definition very speedily reveals that it is one thing
to formulate a general statement, and another to shape this
statement so faithfully that it should resist critical and minute
scrutiny. It is, therefore, essential for the scientific worker to
be aiming at definitions from the commencement to the con-
summation of the enquiry, both because it will clarify and con-
centrate his thought, and because it will place him in a posi-
tion to proceed deductively with increased assurance. Indeed,
deduction can only be pursued with full confidence and with
tolerable success when the scientific worker has been throughout

1 The advantages are dubious of substituting one series of terms for
another virtually equivalent in meaning, as when thinking, feeling, and
willing become cognition, affection, and conation.

9

130 PART II.— SOME IMPORTANT METHODOLOGICAL TERMS.

striving to frame incontrovertible definitions, and when the
anterior inductive enquiry is compressed into a definition.
Should these epitomised statements, however, be excessively
difficult to reach, then definitions as rigid as possible should
be the goal of scientific endeavour.

§54. (D) DEFINITENESS IN SCIENTIFIC WORK GE-
NERALLY.— This leads us naturally to recognise the need for
definiteness generally, leaving no more of the activities in a
fog or undetermined than is inevitable. Such an attitude of
mind will prick any number of iridescent bubbles which un-
warrantably arrest our untrained attention; it will secure that
we do not pass to the second stage before the first stage is
completed; it will circumvent mountains of errors; and it will
ensure a rapid and safe advance.

In a word, a true methodology demands definiteness (a) in
terms, (b) in general statements, and (c) in work generally,
requiring mathematical treatment wherever practicable. Pro-
cedure may be said to be exact when it is mathematical, and
when definiteness is aimed at in terms, in statements, and in
work generally.

§ 55. (E) MATHEMATICAL AND NON-MATHEMATICAL
PROCEDURE. — To conclude. In view of the opinion which
widely obtains that mathematics is separated, as it were, by a
gulf from the inductive sciences through its abstractness, its
irresistible demonstrations, and its mode of procedure, it is
interesting to find that, of recent years, three mathematicians
have sought to show that no such breach exists. The last of
the three utterances is that of Prof. E. W. Hobson, F.R.S., and
is contained in his Presidential Address to the Mathematical
and Physical Science Section of the British Association in 1910.
We shall let him speak: —

"In the first place, it is a fact that frequently, and at various times,
differences of opinion have existed among mathematicians, giving rise to
controversies as to the validity of whole lines of reasoning aad affecting
the results of such reasoning; a considerable amount of difference of
opinion of this character exists among mathematicians at the present time.
In the second place, the accepted standard of rigour, that is, the standard
of what is deemed necessary to constitute a valid demonstration, has
undergone change in the course of time. Much of the reasoning which
was formerly regarded as satisfactory and irrefutable is now regarded as
insufficient to establish the results which it was employed to demonstrate.
It has even been shown that results which were once supposed to have
been fully established by demonstrations are, in point of fact, affected
with error." (British Association's Report of 1910, p. 514.) "That oldest
text-book of science in the world, Euclid's Elements of Geometry, has
been popularly held for centuries to be the very model of deductive
logical demonstration. Criticism has, however, largely invalidated this
view." (Ibid., p. 516.) "The actual evolution of mathematical theories
proceeds by a process of induction strictly analogous to the method of
induction employed in building up the physical sciences : observation,
comparison, classification, trial, and generalisation are essential in both
cases." (Ibid., p. 520.)

SECTION 16.— DEFINITE, EXACT, AND MATHEMATICAL PROCEDURE. 131

Our second citation is from a paper in a volume entitled De
la methode dans les sciences, 1910, contributed by M. J. Tannery,
Membre de PInstitut. The importance of the subject must justify
our rather lengthy quotation:—

"Comme toutes les autres sciences, les mathematiques se sont deve-
loppees par 1'accroissement des verites particulieres, d'une part, et, de
1'autre, par 1'acquisition d'idges et de theories de plus en plus generates.
Tous les grands geometres ont eu, a la fois, le gout du particulier et du
general, des faits precis et des vastes speculations; quelques-uns, peut-
etre, preferaient regarder d'un cote on de 1'autre. Mais le progres dans
un sens s'est toujours mele au progres dans 1'autre ; d'une part, la con-
naissance d'une loi generate permet d'atteindre plus de faits particuliers ;
d'autre part, la generalite d'un raisonnement, d'une methode, apparait
mieux sur un fait particulier que sur un autre.

"Dire que tout accroissement d'une science resulte de Fetat de cette
science, au moment oil se produit cet accroissement, c'est faire une affirma-
tion bien banale, mais a laquelle on ne donne pas assez d'attention, quand
il s'agit des mathematiques, d'autant que toute proposition decouverte est
rattachee aux axiomes par cela meme qu'elle est demontree, et qu'il
semble qu'on aurait pu aussi bien la deduire des axiomes, n'importe
quand: cela semble a ceux qui regardent la science faite, non la science
qui se fait.

'"En vain', dit Galois1, 'les analystes voudraient-ils se le dissimuler:
ils ne deduisent pas, ils combinent, ils comparent; quand ils arrivent a
la verite, c'est en heurtant de cote et d'autre qu'ils y sont tombes. . . ."
(Ibid., pp. 62-63.)

"Dans les diverses sciences, la matiere et les instruments different, la
marche de 1'invention est la meme. Memes essais, memes tatonnements,
meme patience active et tendue, pour ainsi dire, vers un objet qui s'eclaire
parfois, memes espoirs trompes, meme finesse et meme imagination
pour saisir les analogies, les liens caches, les rapports inattendus. . . . Au
mathematicien, quand il a trouve une loi, on demande plus qu'au physi-
cien ; sans doute, celui-ci souhaite rattacher sa loi a une theorie generale ;
mais le mathematicien doit la demontrer; la proposition n'est vraiment
acquise, et certaine, que lorsqu'elle a ete rattachee aux axiomes. II est
fort remarquable qu'on ait donne le nom ^'induction a 1'un des precedes
de demonstration, qui consiste a decouvrir dans Fenonce une necessite
interne telle qu'il ne peut etre vrai quelquefois sans Fetre toujours: les
experiences ou on Fa trouve vrai suffisent a 1'entiere certitude. II y a
de tres beaux exemples de ce mode de demonstration.

"Sans doute, ce n'est pas toujours d'une fagon directe que 1'on applique
la methode experimentale en mathematiques. II reste vrai que la science
acquise, telle qu'il la possede, fournit au mathematicien une matiere et
des instruments tres puissants d'observation et de transformation. Que
de calculs numeriques auraient ete impossibles sans un instrument aussi
merveilleux que la numeration decimale! Que de ressources apportent
les methodes de calcul algebrique, de calcul integral, les transformations
geometriques! Que de moyens pour rapprocher Finconnu du connu, pour
eclairer Fun au moyen de 1'autre, pour changer une verite en une autre, pour
reconnaitre Fidentite de propositions qui semblaient, tout d'abord, ne pas
appartenir au meme domaine! Et ces moyens s'accroissent d'annee en
annee, se perfectionnent, deviennent plus aises a manier, se compliquent,
permettent d'atteindre plus loin.

"La matiere a ouvrer ne manque pas et ne manquera jamais.

"On peut faire des progres utiles, parfois importants, en cherchant a
mieux connaitre ce qui est deja connu, en appliquant des methodes connues

1 Manuscrits et papiers inedits de Galois. (Bulletin des sciences mathe-
matiques, 2e serie, t. XXX, p. 260.)

132 PART 1I.—SOME IMPORTANT METHODOLOGICAL TERMS.

a des fails connus. Certaines propositions apparaissent d'abord comme
isolees, ou bien Ton ne sait y parvenir que par un seul chemin; ou
encore on ne sait deduire que d'une facon une suite de propositions.
Pour relier ces propositions ou ces theories isolees, pour y parvenir par
des voies nouvelles, pour multiplier les chemins de traverse, le travailleuv
dispose parfois de methodes plus puissantes que celles dont ses predeces-
seurs ont du se contenter; il peut trouver des voies plus directes, des
demonstrations plus simples, et rencontrer, chemin faisant, quelque fait
important sur lequel 1'attention n'avait pas ete attiree. Les travaux de
cette nature, si meme ils sont modestes, contribuent a 1'organisation de
la science. Us peuvent avoir un caractere tres eleve et temoigner, chez
leur auteur, d'une rare imagination mathematique." (Ibid., pp. 65-67.)

"Par 1'observation et la comparaison des proprietes deja connues des
fonctions ou des figures, par la reflexion attentive sur ce connu, des
questions se posent au travailleur: quelques-unes se posent naturellement.
Elles sont, par exemple, resolues pour certaines fonctions ou certaines
figures, comment ne pas se les poser pour d'autres fonctions ou d'autres
figures, dont on connait deja quelques propriety? Les unes sont plus
ou moins aisees a resoudre, ou a aborder, par des methodes connues, et
les faits particuliers s'accumulent ainsi. D'autres restent ouvertes pendant
des siecles.

"Les questions s'enchatnent, se generalised, se multiplient." (/&/</., p. 68.)

"Que dire du genie d'invention, de 1'imagination creatrice? On ne
s'attend pas a ce que j'essaie d'en esquisser la psychologic.1 Voici, autant
qu'on en peut juger par les oeuvres des grands geometres, quelques-uns
de ses efforts et de ses resultats, et cette enumeration ne sera qu'un
resume de ce que je me suis efforce de decrire plus haut: Decouvrir de
nouveaux liens entre les choses, attaquer des questions deja posees avec
les methodes perfectionnees que fournissent les progres de la science,
preciser un probleme qui, peut-etre, etait implicitement contenu dans les
travaux ant6rieurs, lui donner 'une forme telle qu'il soit toujours possible
de la resoudre',2 pressentir la solution et y parvenir, choisir les questions
qui auront une grande portee, deviner cette portee, saisir, dans le pale
reflet qu'il laisse sur les faits particuliers le rayonnement d'une th6orie
generate, s'elever jusqu'a cette theorie, jusqu'au point ou les faits qui
ont permis de la decouvrir ne sont plus qu'une infime partie du monde
de verites qu'elle illumine. . . . Les exemples de pareilles decouvertes
ne manquent pas dans 1'histoire des mathematiques, et notre temps n'en
a pas ete prive." (Ibid., p. 71.)

" En s'organisant, les mathematiques tendent vers une forme deductive
plus parfaite. Mais ne peut-on en dire autant des autres sciences?"
(Ibid., p. 72.)

M. Poincare (Science et methode, 1908, p. 2) defends the
same standpoint: "Le mecanisme de 1'invention mathematique
ne differe pas sensiblement du mecanisme de 1'invention en
general."

SECTION XVII. -INDUCTION.

§ 56. John Stuart Mill proposes several definitions of the
term Induction. He tells us that "Induction may be defined
as the operation of discovering and proving general proposi-
tions". (Logic, bk. 3, ch. 1, § 2.) This would, therefore, in-

1 On trouvera dans Science et mtthode de M. H. Poincare (p. 43) un
chapitre extremement interessant sur ce sujet.
- Abel, CEuvres, Ed. Sylow, t. II, p. 217.

SECTION 17. —INDUCTION. 133

elude, according to our examination, the process of perceiving
objects, that of observing and experimenting with or without
instruments, that of generalising, and, finally, that of verifying
and exhausting our generalisations through deductive procedure
and otherwise. We could not adopt another definition of Mill's
which conceives induction to be conterminous with generali-
sation, as when he states: "Induction is the process by which
we conclude that what is true of certain individuals of a class
is true of the whole class, or that what is true at certain times
will be true in similar circumstances at all times"1 (ibid., bk. 3,
ch. 2, § 1); but we do appreciate the fact that generalising — or
induction, as Mill names it — if it be guarded and yet not defi-
cient in daring, is relatively the most useful, because most
far-reaching, portion of the process of induction. The first
definition prevents the confounding of the two terms Generali-
sation and Induction, and assigns a distinctive meaning to
each of those terms ; yet even this definition is not sufficiently
comprehensive, since it is not identical with an enquiry as
such.

It is difficult to define truly the process of induction, save
perhaps by such an ambiguous phrase, as that Induction sums
up the general method of procedure in modern science.- The
pre-scientific practice was to draw conclusions from insufficient

1 In Mill's opinion induction implies an inference from certain particulars
to a class. For this reason, when all the particulars are given, we have,
according to him, "Inductions improperly so called''. He thus identifies in-
duction with the more common form of generalising, and leaves no term
to denominate the scientific process as such.

2 Induction is "a kind of argument which infers, respecting a whole class,
what has been ascertained respecting one or more individuals of that class".
(Whately, Logic, p. 344.)

"The contrast of the deductive and inductive process is obvious. In the
former, we proceed at each step from general truths to particular applications
of them ; in the latter, from particular observations to a general truth which
includes them." (Whewell, History of Scientific Ideas, vol. 1, p. 28.) ''Each
induction supplies the materials of fresh inductions, each generalisation,
with all that it embraces in its circle, may be found to be but one of many
circles, comprehended within the circuit of some wider generalisation." tfbid.,
p. 50.) "The process of induction may be resolved into three steps: the
selection of the idea, the construction of the conception, arid the determi-
nation of the magnitudes." (Novum Organon Renovatum, p. 186.)

"Induction is the arriving at general propositions, by means of Obser-
vation or Fact." (Bain, Logic, vol.2, p. 111.) "Induction so-called is merely
a certain collection of particulars, with generalised expression superadded;
deduction is the bringing in of new particulars." (Ibid., p. 419.)

"There are but three steps in the process of induction: (1) Framing some
hypothesis as to the character of the general law. (2) Deducing consequences
from that law. (3) Observing whether the consequences agree with the parti-
cular facts under consideration." (Jevons, Principles of Science, pp. 265-266.)
"In all cases of inductive inference we must invent hypotheses, until we
fall upon some hypothesis which yields deductive results in accordance
with experience." (Ibid., p. 228.)

"Every process of induction and deduction may be broadly described as
a cognition and a recognition." (Naden, Induction and Deduction, p. 92.)

134 PART II.— SOME IMPORTANT METHODOLOGICAL TERMS.

and generally spurious evidence, or lightly to postulate a general
truth or law of nature and recklessly to deduce consequences.
To-day facts are closely scrutinised, cautiously generalised, and,
in this form, utilised for deductive ends. Induction is, there-
fore, the process of discovering and proving general propositions
which summarise an enquiry, rather than the discovery and proof
of generalisations as such. One should even, as we have done,
include the process of deduction in the definition, because de-
duction, as an integral component of the general process of

'Induction is a process of cognition involving recognitions. Deduction is a
process of recognition involving cognitions." (Ibid., p. 100.)

"Induction, then, is the reference to reality of a system on the ground
of particular differences within it by which reality is taken as qualified."
(Bosanquet, Logic, vol. 2, p. 179.)

"Der Ausdruck Induction wird im eigentlichsten und strengsten Sinne
dann gebraucht, wenn von dem Einzelnen, das sich durch Beobachtung fest-
stellen lasst, auf das Allgemeine geschlossen wird." (Uberweg, System der
Logik, p. 371.)

"The inductive methods, it is certain, are the most effectual helps to the
attainment of new truth, but it is no less certain that they rest entirely on
the results of deductive logic." (Lotze, Logic, vol. 2, p. 22.)

"Induction is the operation by which we pass from the knowledge of
facts to those of the laws which rule them." (Lachelier, Du fondement de
{'induction, Paris, 1896, p. 3.)

"The process of induction [is] the method of obtaining universal pro-
positions from particular perceptions." (Sigwart, Logic, vol. 2, p. 288.)

"Nach dem Grad der Allgemeinheit . . . konnen wir nun drei Stufen der
Induction unterscheiden : (1) Die Auffindung empirischer Gesetze; (2) die
Verbindung einzelner empirischer Gesetze zu allgemeineren Erfahrungs-
gesetzen; endlich (3) die Ableitung von Kausalgesetzen und die logische
Begrundung der Tatsachen." (Wundt, Logik, vol. 2, p. 25.)

"Inductive logic aims at understanding and classifying the methods of
the sciences." (Mellone, Introductory Text- book of Logic, 1905, p. 245.)

"The essential steps in the inductive method are: (1) The formation of a
hypothesis suggested by a first observation of facts. (2) The deduction of
the consequences of this hypothesis. (3) The testing of these consequences
by a careful analysis of phenomena. (4) The consequent exact definition
of the hypothesis, which then, as expressing the true universal nature ot
reality, is verified and received as an established theory or law." (James
Welton, A Manual of Logic, vol. 2, p. 60.)

"Induction may be defined as the legitimate inference of the unknown
from the known. . . . Induction is not only an inference of the unknown
from the known; but, in virtue of that fact, of the general from the parti-
cular." (Thomas Fowler, Logic, Deductive and Inductive, vol. 2, pp. 9-10.)

"Die Induction ist nicht der Weg zu den nothwendigen Wahrheiten, sondern
der Weg zu der Verbindung der nothwendigen Wahrheiten mit den zufalligen
Wahrheiten." (E. F. Apelt, Die Theorie der Induction, 1854, p. 56.)

(See also A. C. Mukerji, A Text-Book of Inductive Logic, 1914 ; E. L. Haw-
kins, The Oxford Handbook of Logic, Deductive and Inductive, J.913; A. K.
Trivedi, Studies in Inductive Logic, 1914; A. C. Mitra, The Principles of Logic,
Deductive and Inductive, 2 vols., 1912; A. Subrahmanyam, Logic, Inductive
and Deductive, 1911 ; ,T. Dastets, Logic, Inductive and Deductive, 1905 ; J. Coffey.
The Science of Logic, 2 vols., 1912 ; W. R. Boyce Gibson, The Problem of
Logic, 1908; Paul Natorp, Die logischen Grundlagen der exacten Wissen-
schaften, 1910; A. Gratry, Logique, 2 vols., 1868; W. Minto, Logic, Inductive
and Deductive, 1893 ; J. Welton, Groundwork of Logic, 1917 ; Carveth Read,
Logic, Deductive and Inductive, 1906.)

SECTION 1 7.—IND UCTION. \ 35

scientific discovery, cannot be justifiably dissociated from in-
duction, especially if it originates in established generalisations
and terminates in verification. So long as some men relied on
sagacity, instinct, or other mysterious properties of the mind,
for the purpose of arriving at a conclusion and utilising it,
in an equally magical manner, for deductive ends, and other
men diligently sought for general truths only by mechanically
producing complete enumerations, a contrast and a separation
were possible; but in our day there can only be, in harmony
with practical necessities, a question of varying emphasis on
these two instruments of thought. The fundamental conception
underlying both terms may be said, therefore, to 'be the syste-
matic and conscientious reliance on, and exploitation of, direct
experience according to the most recent and most refined
methods of enquiry. It is to be hoped, therefore, that the pre-
sumed independence of, and rivalry between, the two primal
elements of the one scientific process will soon be regarded
as apparent rather than as real.1

§ 57. Macaulay denies all originality to Bacon, the founder
of the inductive method. He declares: "The inductive method
has been practised ever since the beginning of the world by every
human being. It is constantly practised by the most ignorant
clown, by the most thoughtless schoolboy, by the very child at
the breast. That method leads the clown to the conclusion that
if he sows barley he shall not reap wheat. By that method a
schoolboy learns that a cloudy day is the best for catching tr&ut.
The very infant, we imagine, is led by induction to expect milk
from his mother or nurse, and none from his father." (Essays,
ed. 1885, p. 407.) He even ventures so far as to aver that the
plain man has nothing to learn from Bacon's presentation of
that method. He furnishes this amusing instance: "A plain man
finds his stomach out of order. He never heard Lord Bacon's
name. But he proceeds in the strictest conformity with the
rules laid down in the second book of the Novum Organum,
and satisfies himself that mince pies have done the mischief.
'I ate minced pies on Monday and Wednesday, and I was kept
awake by indigestion all night.' This is the comparentia ad
intellectum instantianim convenientium. 'I did not eat any on
Tuesday and Friday, and I was quite well.' • This is the com-
parentia instantiarum in proximo qua? natura data privantur.
'I ate very sparingly of them on Sunday, and was very slightly
indisposed in the evening. But on Christmas-day I almost dined
on them, and was so ill that I was in great danger.' This is the
comparentia instantiarum secundum magis et minus. 'It cannot
have been the brandy which I took with them. For I have
drunk brandy daily for years without being the worse for it.'

1 Comte uses the word Generalisation and Systematisation in the place
of Induction and Deduction.

136 PART II.— SOME IMPORTANT METHODOLOGICAL TERMS.

This is the rejectio naturarum. Our invalid then proceeds to what
is termed by Bacon the Vindemiatio, and pronounces that minced
pies do not agree with him."1 (Ibid., p. 407.) And a little further
down he dismisses Bacon in this manner : " His rules are quite
proper ; but we do not need them, because they are drawn from
our own constant practice." (Ibid., p. 408.)

If Macaulay's remarkable illustration be typical of the way
men reason, Bacon was certainly altogether overrating the value
of his efforts, but, in truth, the plain man does not reason in
such matters once in a hundred times in accordance with
Bacon's precepts.

Huxley appears to echo Macaulay: "You have all heard it repeated,
I daresay, that men of science work by means of induction and deduction,
and that by the help of these operations, they, in a sort of sense, wring
from nature certain other things which are called natural laws and causes,
and that out of these, by some cunning skill of their own, they build up
hypotheses and theories. And it is imagined by many that the operations
of the common mind can be by no means compared with these processes,
and that they have to be acquired by a sort of special apprenticeship to
the craft. To hear all these large words you would think that the mind
of a man of science must be constituted differently from that of his fellow-
men; but if you will not be frightened by terms, you will discover that
you are quite wrong, and that all these terrible apparatus are being used
by yourselves every day and every hour of your lives. . . .

"A very trivial circumstance will serve to exemplify this. Suppose
you go into a fruiterer's shop, wanting an apple. You take up one, and,
on biting it, you find it is sour; you look at it, and see that it is hard
and green. You take up another one, and that too is hard, green, and
s8ur. The shopman offers you a third; but, before biting it, you examine
it, and find that it is hard and green, and you immediately say that you
will not have it, as it must be sour, like those that you have already
tried.

"Nothing can be more simple than that, you think; but if you will take
the trouble to analyse and trace out into its logical elements what has
been done by the mind, you will be greatly surprised. In the first place,
you have performed the operation of induction. You found that, in two
experiences, hardness and greenness in apples went together with sourness.
It was so in the first case, and it was confirmed by the second. True,
it is a very small basis, but still it is enough to make an induction from;
you generalise the facts, and you expect to find sourness in apples where
you get hardness and greenness. You found upon that a general law that
all hard and green apples are sour; and that, so far as it goes, is a perfect
induction. Well, having got your natural law in this way, when you are
offered another apple, which you find is hard and green, you say: 'All
hard and green apples are sour; this apple is hard and green, therefore this
apple is sour.' That train of reasoning is what logicians call a syllogism,
and has all its various parts and terms — its major premiss, its minor
premiss, and its conclusion. And, by the help of further reasoning, which,
if drawn out, would have to be exhibited in two or three other syllogisms,
you arrive at your final determination 'I will not have that apple'. So
that, you see, you have, in the first place, established a law by induction,

"Look over the induction, and it will appear that the case is not made
out ; an exclusion is wanting : it may have been the mixture of minced pies
and brandy which did the mischief." (A. De Morgan, Formal Logic, 1847,
p. 218.) De Morgan challenges Macaulay's reasoning throughout. See the
above work, pp. 218-224.

SECTION 17. —INDUCTION. 137

and upon that you have founded a deduction, and reasoned out the special
conclusion of the particular case. Well now, suppose, having got your law,
that at some time afterwards you are discussing the qualities of apples
with a friend, you will say to him, 'It is a very curious thing, but I find
that all hard and green apples are sour!' Your friend says to you, 'But
how do you know that?' You at once reply: 'Oh, because I have tried
them over and over again, and have always found them to be so.' Well,
if we were talking science instead of common sense, we should call that
an experimental verification. And, if still opposed, you go further, and
say: 4I have heard from the people in Somersetshire and Devonshire,
where a large number of apples are grown, that they have observed the
same thing. It is also found to be the case in Normandy, and in North
America. In short, I find it to be the universal experience of mankind
wherever attention has been directed to the subject.' Whereupon your
friend, unless he is a very unreasonable man, agrees with you, and is
convinced that you are quite right in the conclusion you have drawn.
He believes, although, perhaps, he does not know he believes it, that the
more extensive verifications are — that the more frequently experiments
have been made, and results of the same kind arrived at — that the more
varied the conditions under which the same results are attained, the more
certain is the ultimate conclusion, and he disputes the question no further.
He sees that the experiment has been tried under all sorts of conditions,
as to time, place, and people, with the same result; and he says with
you, therefore, that the law you have laid down must be a good one, and
he must believe it.

"In science we do the same thing — the philosopher exercises precisely
the same faculties, though in a much more delicate manner. In scientific-
inquiry it becomes a matter of duty to expose a supposed law to every
possible kind of verification, and to take care, moreover, that this is done
intentionally, and not left to a mere accident, as in the case of the apples.
And in science, as in common life, our confidence in a law is in exact
proportion to the absence of variation in the result of our experimental
verifications." (Twelve Lectures and Essays, ed. 1915, pp. 39-41.)

First of all, note the fact that the effects of eating mince
pies are notorious ; and that, therefore, the argument begs the
question. Secondly, a "plain man" who remembered all appo-
site facts so completely and correctly, would be looked upon as
a nine days' wonder among plain men. Thirdly, as De Morgan
had pointed out, the plain man did not consider the effect of
a mixture in the diet. The following instance, perhaps, more
nearly typifies unaided reasoning concerning matters unknown,
and betokens simultaneously where Bacon's rules are sinned
against. Some one — typifying vast multitudes — had recourse to
a certain universal patent medicine for a certain ailment and
recovered; therefore that patent medicine, he tacitly concluded,
had cured him and will cure everybody of all ailments. Some
other universal patent medicine which he had tried previously
to this one, was not connected, so he surmises, with his reco-
very, therefore all other patent medicines are ineffective, if not
injurious. Or to mention a humorous case cited in an English
court of law during 1914 : A typhoid patient having recovered
despite of eating herrings, a medical student entered in his
diary the words: "Herring cures typhoid." Shortly afterwards,
whilst in Prance, this same student benevolently prescribed

138 PART II.— SOME IMPORTANT METHODOLOGICAL TERMS.

herring to a typhoid patient. On the latter dying, he made a
further entry: "Herring cures typhoid in England, but not in
France."1

§ 58. To consider a more important problem. Some one
does not sleep well, and desires to ascertain the cause. Does
he sleep perhaps too much or too little? Is he too warm or
too cold in bed? Are the bed-clothes too heavy? Is there
insufficient or too much fresh air in the room ? Does he breathe
under the bed-clothes? Does he eat or drink too much or too
little, or too late, or not late enough at night? Do the meat,
the vegetables, the cheese, the bread, the milk, the coffee, or
the condiments, disagree with him? Has he insufficient or too
much open-air exercise? Is he over- or under-worked, or has
he anxieties, or is he consumed by ennui? Is his health im-
paired? Etc., etc. Pity the man who will trust solely to ex-
periment in such a circumstance, or rush to a conclusion ! Yet
if he will consult his medical adviser, he will probably obtain
a satisfactory reply in a few minutes, for such is the power of
science, even an imperfect science like medicine. However, his
many questions are themselves reflections of scientific concep-
tions which the truly "plain man" is without. Not always have
we mince pies to aid us in arriving at a conclusion.

Or let us submit a problem dealt with by Dr. Fishberg, a
model investigator— the stature of the Jews. Comparing the
average height of the Jews with the average height of the
contemporaneous population of Europe, we find that the Jews
are short of stature. Yet the problem is not so simple. Were
the ancestors of the Jews short? Should we not allow for the
fact that the conscripts measured had not grown to full stature ?
Since the Jews are mostly town-dwellers, may this not account
for the shortness ? May not their indoor occupation of a seden-
tary character, stunt them ? And are not the poverty and pri-
vation which exist among so considerable a percentage of the
Jews conducive to short stature? Since Jews do not dwell in
large numbers in countries where the stature of man is rela-
tively high, is it not feasible that in a general estimate they
should appear nearer the bottom of the scale ? Ought we not
to remember that Jews of different countries vary in height
relatively to the general population of those countries? And
does not consumption preferably attack the taller Jews, and
therefore tend to shorten average stature?

In the same cautious spirit, Dr. Fishberg investigates various
other alleged physical and mental characteristics of the Jews,

1 The illustrations which Macaulay supplies appear to show that he was
in need of Bacon's Canons. Because some boys learn that a cloudy day is
the best for trout catching, it does not follow that all boys learn it, nor that
schoolboys do not transgress countless times against Bacon's rules. Macaulay's
reasoning here is a fair example of precipitate inference, which respect for
Bacon's methods would have obviated.

SECTION 17— INDUCTION. 139

showing the un-Baconian reasoning which commonly obtains
on this subject.

Let us examine an almost critical instance. Before 1884 the
personnel of the Japanese navy suffered cruelly from the disease
known as beri-beri. The ratio of illness from beri-beri per 100
of the force during 1878 to 1883 was 32.80, 38.93, 34.81, 25.06,
40.45, 23.12. "In 1882, when there was a prospect of war with
Korea, most of the crews of the five largest ships of war in
the Japanese navy were prostrated with the disease. . . . The
victims often suffered from three to four times a year from the
disease." In the following year, on a long cruise of a Japanese
warship, "there developed on the voyage over one hundred
cases of the disease out of less than 350 persons on board".
But beri-beri is found outside the navy. The army had its
liberal share of the affliction, and so had the general population.
The disease is very frequent with pregnant women, and is most
prevalent in summer. The "plain man" was baffled. Not so
Doctor Takaki, Surgeon-General of the Japanese navy. "He
noticed the great disproportion between the number of cases
occurring on warships and those in barracks, and he thought
this might result from the difference between the food supplied
aboard ship and that supplied ashore." On examination he
found "that the proportion, of carbo-hydrates in the food was
in excess of the requirements, and that the proteids were defi-
cient".1 He made an experiment. He persuaded the admiralty
to despatch a vessel of the same type as the warship mentioned,
on the same long voyage, but with a new dietary. The result
was that when the Takauba reached Honolulu on her return trip,
she had three cases, as against 125 cases of the first vessel, on
board. Subsequently, the naval dietary was reformed, with the
magnificent result that during 1885 to 1889 the ratio of beri-beri
fell to 0.59, 0.04, 0.00, 0.00, 0.03. Such are, relatively and
absolutely, the ways and the practical effects of scientific pro-
cedure.-

1 As a matter of fact, the reasoning was at least partly incorrect. The
"polished" rice consumed by the sailors lacked the anti-neuritic factor re-
moved in the milling process, and this was rectified by increasing the quan-
tity of other eatables containing a sufficiency of that factor. (See on the
whole question, Report on ... Accessory Food Factors, London, 1919.)

• The above account relative to beri-beri is taken from Surgeon-Major
L. L. Seaman's valuable work The Real Triumph of Japan, New York, 1908.
The prevalence of scurvy on British vessels before 1795 offers a precisely
parallel picture to beri-beri. Its ravages used to be appalling; but since
the introduction of lemon juice or a corrected dietary, the disease is practi-
cally unknown. It is to be hoped that equally efficacious cures for con-
sumption, cancer, and children's infectious diseases may be discovered,
although these afflictions belong to a different category. In reference to
scurvy, Herschel (Discourse) states: "So tremendous were the ravages of
scurvy, that, in the year 1726, Admiral Hosier sailed with seven ships of
the line to the West Indies, and buried his ships' companies twice, and died
himself in consequence of a broken heart." ([44.].)

140 PART II.— SOME IMPORTANT METHODOLOGICAL TERMS.

§ 59. The plain man has been for ages occupied in wealth
production, and might be supposed to be a pastmaster in this
art. Yet the efficiency movement, inspired by science, puts to
shame his efforts in this domain. Here are some illustrations.
" We cite as an example a case of folding handkerchiefs. The
old method of folding was to have the worker seated at low
tables in chairs of ordinary height, working throughout the entire
day, with the only rest periods an hour at noon and such ceas-
•ing from folding as took place when the workers went for
supplies, or took back finished product to be checked, or other
rest periods that they took at will, as the work was piece work.
After an intensive study of the problem, made not only to
increase their output but to better their working conditions and
allow them to earn more money with less fatigue, the following
schedule of work and rest periods was adopted. Each hour
was divided into ten periods. The work was placed on a work
table of the proper height. The handkerchiefs already folded,
those being folded, and those to be folded were arranged in the
most convenient and efficient manner. All variables of the work
had been studied, and the results of the study standardised.
The first four periods, that is, the first twenty-four minutes,
the girl remained seated. She worked five minutes and rested
one ; again worked five minutes and rested one. That is to say,
she had four minutes' rest out of the twenty-four, and spent
this rest seated so that she might lose no time in getting back
to the work. The next two periods, that is for twelve minutes,
the girl was standing. Again she worked five minutes and
rested one minute, and for the second time worked five minutes
and rested one minute. That is, she rested two out of the
twelve minutes in the same position in which she worked. The
third group, a space of eighteen minutes, she spent either sit-
ting or standing, as she pleased. Here also she worked five
minutes, rested one minute; worked five minutes, rested one
minute; worked five minutes, and rested one minute in the
position, either standing or sitting, which she herself had chosen.
The last period, which consisted also of six minutes, was spent
by the girl walking about and talking, or amusing herself as
she otherwise chose. With this might be combined the last
rest minute or period number nine, which thus gave her seven
consecutive minutes for unrestricted rest activity. This was the
schedule for all hours of the day except the hour before noon
and the hour before closing time at night. In these hours the
first nine periods resembled the first nine periods of the other
hours ; but the tenth period was spent in work, as a long rest
period was to follow. At the end of the day's work under
these conditions the girls accomplished more than three times
the amount of their previous best work, with a greater amount
of interest and with no more fatigue." (F.B. and L. M. Gilbreth,
Fatigue Study, 1919, pp. 127-129.)

SECTION 17.— INDUCTION. 141

Overhauling and cleaning a boiler may seem a matter in which
science has no suggestions to offer. The founder of the effi-
ciency movement manifestly thought otherwise. "Time study
showed that a great part of the time was lost owing to the
strained position of the workman. Thick pads were made to
fasten to the elbows, knees, and hips ; special tools and applian-
ces were made for the various details of the work; a com-
plete list of the tools and implements was entered on the
instruction card, each tool being stamped with its own number
for identification, and all were issued from the tool room in a
tool box so as to keep them together and save time. A separate
piece work price was fixed for each of the elements of the job,
and a thorough inspection of each part of the work secured
as it was completed. The instruction card for this work filled
several typewritten pages, and described in detail the order in
which the operations should be done and the exact details of
each man's work, with the number of each tool required, piece
work prices, etc. The whole scheme was much laughed at
when it first went into use, but the trouble taken was fully
justified, for the work was better done than ever before, and
it cost only eleven dollars to completely overhaul a set of
300 h. p. boilers by this method, while the average cost of
doing the same work on day work without an instruction card
was sixty-two dollars." (F. W. Taylor, Shop Management, 1919,
pp. 181-182.)

It is no wonder, then, that those conversant with the scien-
tific movement in industry hail it as the great liberator from
witless routine. '"I cannot prophesy the end, there is no end.
I am learning my trades all over again', testified a prominent
contractor in regard to the system, before the Interstate Com-
merce Commission. Scientific management is said to differ
from the ordinary systems of production 'much as production
by machinery differs from production by hand; and the re-
volution which must result from the introduction of scientific
management, is comparable only to that involved in the transi-
tion from hand to machine production'." (Josephine Goldmark,
Fatigue and Efficiency, 1912, pp. 192-193.) Untutored common
sense is thus being expelled from its last stronghold.

Macaulay was right in denying to Bacon the claim for com-
plete originality; but this claim the great Elizabethan methodo-
logist never advanced. What Bacon resolutely combated1, was
the common practice of reasoning from propositions to pro-
positions heedless of examining the data and verifying the
results. He would have expressed, for instance, nothing but
condemnation, we fear, for so brilliant a thinker as Herbert
Spencer who first issued an elaborate Syllabus, and then spent
forty years in filling in its outlines. It would be hard to refute
Bacon's reasoning in favour of a methodology: "If in things
mechanical men had set to work with their naked hands,

142 PART //.— SOME IMPORTANT METHODOLOGICAL TERMS.

without help or force of instruments, just as in things intellec-
tual they have set to work with little else than the naked
forces of the understanding, very small would the matters
have been which, even with their best efforts applied in con-
junction, they could have attempted or accomplished." (Preface
to Novum Organum.)

SECTION XVIIL— CONCLUSION.

§ 60. The foregoing discussion has no pretensions to being
exhaustive; it only strives to clarify a few of the principal
terms employed in scientific methodology. The signification of
Concept, Abstraction, Comparison, Judgment, and of a multitude
of other logical terms, will be found dealt with in the works of
classical and inductive logicians. The methodological aspect of
the memory, the imagination, and the intelligence is treated in
Conclusion 18, and that of the methodological process as a
synthetic unity, in Conclusion 2. Our limited purpose in this
Second Part has been achieved if we have thrown some light
on certain vital terms, terms which we hope will receive in the
future closer attention from logicians. Our discussion at the
same time has made it manifest, we hope, that in sundry
departments pf knowledge methodological canons are honoured
in the breach rather than in the observance, even in respect
of such elementary matters as adequate preliminary observation
and detailed verification.

We may now proceed to the consideration of the proposed
methods of thought which, we trust, fairly reflect on the whole
the process of modern scientific investigation at its best.

BOOK II.

PRACTICE.

PART III.
INTRODUCTORY.1

SECTION XIX.— INTRODUCTORY AND SUMMARY.
I.— INTRODUCTORY.

§ 61. Bacon characterises the scientific thinker by attribut-
ing to him largeness of capacity, faithfulness of memory, swift-
ness of apprehension, and penetration of judgment.'2 (Advance-
ment of Learning, Dedication, second paragraph.)

Having perhaps this passage dimly in mind, Descartes ex-
presses himself in this form: "Pour moi, je n'ai jarnais presume
que mon esprit fut en rien plus parfait que ceux du commun:
meme j'ai souvent souhaite d'avoir la pensee aussi prompte, ou

1 It would be a grave and unpardonable error to suppose that every
invention and discovery of note dates from the rise of modern science; for
before that era man had invented language, alphabets, the arithmetical nota-
tion now in use, and customs, manners, morals, religions, and laws; domesti-
cated diverse animals; developed the cereals, vegetables, and fruits, and
discovered the use and safe production of fire ; extracted, utilised, and mixed
various metals; introduced the axe, the knife, the saw, the plough, the
wheel, glass, mirror, sails, bricks, windmill and watermill, the calendar, the
compass, spectacles, clocks, and scores of other inventions and discoveries
of far-reaching significance: built magnificent roads, waterways, carriages.
ships, and temples; produced unsurpassed works of art, and developed man's
sense of the beautiful; and laid the foundations of mathematics, astronomy,
logic, and medicine, besides those of poetry, the drama, and literature gener-
ally. In these circumstances, whilst determined to mete out ample justice
to modern science, it behoves us to speak with profound appreciation of
what men accomplished in the far past. According to Alfred Russell Wallace
the nineteenth century is responsible for the subjoined first-class intentions--
railways, steam-navigation, electric telegraphs, the telephone, friction matches,
gas lighting, photography, the phonograph, RQntgen rays, spectrum analysis,
the use of anaesthetics, and the employment of antiseptics — a truly wonder-
ful output for one century.

- Here is a more comprehensive Baconian summary: " For myself I found
that I was fitted for nothing so well as for the study of Truth; as having
a mind nimble and versatile enough to catch the resemblance of things
(which is the chief point), and at the same time steady enough to fix and
distinguish their subtler differences; as being gifted by nature with desire
to seek, patience to doubt, fondness to meditate, slowness to assert, readiness
to reconsider, carefulness to dispose and set in order; and as being a man
that neither affects what is new nor admires what is old, and that hates
every kind of imposture." (De Interpretations Naturae Procemium, Spedding's
translation )

10

PART IIL— INTRODUCTORY.

1'imagination aussi nette et distincte, ou la memoire aussi ample
ou aussi presente, que quelques autres. Et je ne sache point
de qualites que celles-ci qui servent a la perfection de 1'esprit."
(Discours de la methode, 1668, second paragraph.)

Kant says: "Two things chiefly are required in a philosopher—
1. Cultivation of talents and skill, so as to use them for various
ends. 2. Readiness in the use of all means to any ends that
may be chosen. Both must be united." (Introduction to Logic,
London, 1895, p. 16.)

Charles Darwin expressed himself thus: "I think I am superior
to the common run of men in noticing things which easily
escape attention, and in observing them carefully. From my
earliest youth I have had the strongest desire to understand
or explain everything I observed — that is, to group all facts
under some general laws." (Frank Cramer, op. cit., p. 29.)

Bain particularises: "To possess the mind of a large store
of the related facts; often to refresh the recollection of them;
to come into frequent contact with objects that seem likely to
afford comparisons and analogies; not to stand too near at one
set of facts so as to be overpowered by their specialities; not
to be engrossed with the work of observing the facts; and, in
general, as of matters of great difficulty, to keep the mind
free from attitudes and pursuits antagonistic to the end in
view." (Logic, vol. 2, p. 415.)

La logique, ou I'art de penser, 1662, contains a section entitled "La
methode des sciences reduite a huit regies principales".

Spinoza formulated the following rules for the conduct of the under-
standing: "(1) There is the knowledge which we derive from hearing or
from some arbitrary sign. (2) There is the knowledge which we derive
• from vague experience. ... (3) There is the knowledge which arises when
the essence of a thing is deduced from another thing, but not adequate-
ly. ... (4) Finally, there is the knowledge which arises when a thing
is perceived through its essence alone, or through the knowledge of its
proximate cause." (Tractatus de Intellectus Emendations, London, 1895,
pp. 9-10.)

Leibniz submits the following rules referring to the art of invention:
"(1) To know a thing, one must take into account all the requisites
('requisits') of the thing, that is, everything necessary to distinguish it
from everything else. This we may name definition,, nature, reciprocal
property. (2) Apply the rule to each condition, or requisite, that enters
into the definition which has been found, and look for the requisite of
each requisite. (3) When the analysis has been pushed to the end, the
perfect knowledge of the thing proposed has been reached." (Couturat,
La logique de Leibnitz, p. 181.)

Kant has sundry allusions to practical scientific rules. According to
him, "Logic is not a general art of discovery nor an organon of truth;
it is not an algebra by help of which hidden truths may be discovered".
(Introduction to Logic, 1895, p. 10.) He claims that the "general rules
and conditions of the avoidance of error are (1) to think oneself; (2) to
put oneself in thought in the place or point of view of another; and
(3) always to think consistently. The first may be called enlightened;
the second enlarged; and the third consequent or coherent thinking".
(Ibid., p. 48.) Kant furnishes eight further practical rules (pp. 33-34)
which, for want of space, we cannot quote.

SECTION 19.— INTRODUCTORY AND SUMMARY. 147

Auguste Comte proposes the hereunder mentioned fifteen universal
principles or laws: "Law 1. Form the simplest and most sympathetic
hypothesis consistent with the whole of the known facts. — Law 2. Regard
as invariable all laws whatsoever which govern phenomena and, through
them, beings. — Law 3. All modifications of the universal order are limited
to the degree of intensity of the phenomena, their arrangement not ad-
mitting of alteration. —Law 4. All subjective constructions are dependent
on objective materials. — Law 5. The internal images are always less
vivid and less distinct than the external impressions. — Law 6. The image
which is our immediate object must predominate over all that are simul-
taneously evoked by the excitement of the brain.— Law 7. Every under-
standing passes through a succession of three states: fictitious, abstract,
and positive, in all its conceptions without exception, with a velocity
proportioned to the generality of the phenomena in question. — Law 8.
Man's activity passes through a succession of three states: Conquest;
Defence; and, lastly, Industry. — Law 9. Man's social existence has also a
succession of three states: the Family, the State, Humanity. It is domestic,
civic, universal, in accordance with the peculiar nature of each of the
three instincts of sympathy. — Law 10. Every condition, statical or dyna-
mical, has an inherent tendency to continue as it is without change,
resisting all disturbance from without. (Kepler.) — Law 11. Every system
maintains its constitution, whether in exercise or at rest, when its con-
stituent parts are subjected to simultaneous changes, provided that the
changes affect all the parts in equal degree. (Galileo.) — Law 12. Reaction
and action are always equivalent, if the degree of each is measured in
accordance with the peculiar nature of each collision. (Newton.)— Law 13.
The theory of motion must be subordinated to that of existence, by
looking on all progress as the development of the particular order in
question, the conditions of such order, whatever they may be, regulating
the changes which together make up the evolution.— Law 14. Every
positive classification must proceed on the principle of the increase or
decrease of generality, whether subjective or objective. — Law 15. The
intermediate state should be in all cases subordinated to the extremes
which it brings into connection." (Richard Congreve, Positivist Tables,
London, 1892, pp. 26-28.)

Huxley epitomises in this manner the method of science: "The methods
[of the sciences] are all identical: 1. Observation of facts, including under
this head that artificial observation which is called experiment. 2. Tfrat
process of tying up similar facts into bundles, ticketed and ready for
use, which is called comparison and classification; the results of the
process, the ticketed bundles, being named general propositions. 3. De-
duction, which takes us from the general proposition to facts again,
teaches us, if I may so say, to anticipate from the ticket what is inside
the bundle. And, finally, 4. Verification which is the process of ascertaining
whether, in point of fact, our anticipation is a correct one." (Twelve
Lectures and Essays, ed. 1915, p. 12.)

Here is a philosophical summary of the nature of the scientific process:
"The aim of the scientific process as it occurs in the individual is to
render the Objective in its actual determinations intelligible. This happens
when primary facts enter into an 'apperceptive system'. ... If the process
has been of the kind intended by the term scientific, it will have the
further property of leading to other determinations of the Objective, and
these further determinations are the actual achievements of science, and
its 'end', therefore, from the universal point of view." (T. Percy Nunn,
The Aim and Achievements of the Scientific Method, 1907, pp. 142-143.)

An expert thinker, it might also be suggested, will perennially
and intently concentrate his mental powers in order that he
might, with the aid of appropriate canons, rapidly discover,
record, verify, connect, preserve, and communicate static and

10*

148 PART HI.- INTRODUCTORY.

dynamic facts, and expeditiously and discriminatingly extend and
apply them to all related cases, near and remote, self-revealed
and obscure, his interest being centred in one or a very few prob-
lems. Or we may vary this by stating that the end of an enquiry
should be (a) one or a moderate number of tolerably original,
comprehensive, and important conclusions, including theoretical
and practical applications possessing the same character; and
(b) to determine precisely the nature and relations of certain
facts. With regard to the form which an enquiry should assume,
it ought to be as sharply defined as possible, continuous, and
fairly limited in scope. Everybody is aware of what is signified
by the enquiry being sharply defined. By its being continuous,
we mean that the ground of the enquiry shall not shift unless
the enquiry itself imperatively demands it; and by its being
fairly limited we imply that the range of the enquiry shall
neither extend, as with the ancients, to the embracing of all
or most knowledge as one's province, nor to be too restricted
as in many modern monographs, for in the former instance
we obtain nebulous, in the latter petty, generalisations.

The object of a scientific methodology is to determine the
most efficient modes of conducting the operations of the human
understanding.1 In the widest sense, therefore, a scientific
methodology relates to thinking in general, and, consequently,
to daily life as well as to methodical enquiries. Or, stated
formally and more ambitiously, a scientific methodology aspires
to transform men and women into as nearly as possible ideal
thinkers. Accordingly, the most effective means of collecting,
storing, teaching, and otherwise disseminating, truth are also
part of its province. For this reason, a coherent system of
methodology should concern itself as much with generalisation
as with deduction, -with theory as with practice, with certainty
as with probability, and with single events as with classes of
these. Different departments of methodology hence exist,
treating respectively of the discovery, the application, the
preservation, the teaching in educational establishments, and
the communication by other means, of truth. In this treatise,
however, we are chiefly- concerned with the methods leading
to the discovery of scientific truths.

1 "The general problem of methodology is to show how we may apply
our natural mental activities, in such a way that starting from a given
state of thought and knowledge, we may attain the object of human thought
by an ideally perfect process; a process, that is, in which none but fully
determined concepts and adequately grounded judgments are employed."
(Sigwart, Logic, vol. 2, p. 8.) And Wundt (Logik, vol. 1, p. 1) writes: "Die
Logik hat Rechenschaft zu geben von denjenigen Gesetzen des Denkens,
die bei der wissenschaftlichen Erkenntnis wirksam sind." It is also true
that "every science develops its characteristic methods, methods fruitful in
their results, which it employs in dealing with a given class of problems' .
(Lotze, Logic, vol. 2, p. 174.)

2 Incidentally the problem of general efficiency is somewhat exhaustively
treated in this work. See Index, and especially Conclusion 10.

SECTION 19 —INTRODUCTORY AND SUMMARY. 149

Having stated the most general precepts pertaining to scientific
investigation, we may, before 'proceeding to the detailed state-
ment which is the primary object of this volume, focus the
various synthetically connected main injunctions in the sentence :
" Examine minutely and circumspectly under the most varied
circumstances of space, time, and other conditions, and ex-
periment where practicable; generalise step by step, but yet,
within reason, exhaustively; proceed, more especially towards
the end, to deduce further truths issuing perhaps in fresh in-
vestigations; verify all observations, generalisations, and deduc-
tions meticulously, and determine their theoretical and practical
applications; judiciously classify the facts as you proceed, but
especially during the last stages; and luminously summarise
the theoretical and practical results in concise, definite, connected,
and comprehensive interim and final formula?." Bacon's con-
ception of method is also synthetic in character, and may be
paraphrased thus to satisfy, more or less, modern requirements:
"Collect all the classes of facts and their degrees bearing on
the enquiry; collect classes of facts similar to those found but
which do not bear on the enquiry, and exclude those and their
similars; seek, by the method of exclusion, for the facts common
to all the relevant classes of facts; precipitate the truths common
to the facts into a definition; proceed to draw theoretical and
practical deductions; classify the facts; verify throughout at
every step; and formulate a pithy and yet exhaustive statement
relating to the enquiry." In Bacon's conception of method
hypotheses play only an important part at certain turning
points.

II.— SUMMARY OF PRACTICAL CONCLUSIONS.

§ 62. Human advance along every line has been due to the
gradual accumulation pan-humanly — that is, inter-individually,
inter-socially, and inter-epochally — of slight improvements, and
our sciences, arts, industries, and disciplines, have all grown
in this inconspicuous but effective way. The difference between
a high and a low stage of civilisation is accounted for in this
manner, and it is extremely probable that in any direction
where there has not been an advance thus determined, we
have tarried on a low level. The method of conducting the
human understanding, as we perceived in Section V, falls under
the same law, and its degree of evolution we can fairly judge
by gauging the history of methodology. This latter evidences
that apart from collectively determined progress in logic,
summed up in Aristotle, and, more especially, in Francis Bacon,
little that is fundamental has been done to establish a re-
cognised methodology.

Whatever substantial progress has been effected since Bacon
wrote is mainly to be attributed to the advance of the sciences
themselves, and the full methodological significance of this ad-

150 PART III.— INTRODUCTORY.

vance remains yet to be systematically recorded, if we abstract
the incomplete work accomplished in this treatise. Accordingly
Dame Fortune still decides as a rule what the method pursued
by any person shall be. That is, the outcome of an enquiry
may be a rambling essay, without commencement, middle, or
end. It may represent a mere formal treatment of a subject,
regardless of the facts of the case. It may be a deductive
statement, starting from some monstrous assumption, or from
a legitimate hypothesis. It may deal with a fraction of a sub-
ject or with the Universe itself. It may be determined almost
entirely by preconceptions, or maintain a hoary thesis of the
schools. In reality, the unaided intelligence is prone to disregard
everything but plausible coherence in argument and an enumera-
tion of a few affirmative instances of a more or less specious
character, whilst it tends to be sublimely unconscious of metho-
dical and cautious observation, measurement, use of instruments,
experiment, generalisation, deduction, verification, definition,
and whatever else a methodology of science postulates.

In these circumstances we can only expect what we find—
a countless host of lectures and publications, a clashing of
opinions, a war of words, a struggle to make antagonistic theo-
ries triumph, with glimpses of the truth discernible here and
there. Judging by what man is able to compass in any depart-
ment of life without helps, being kept back by "the mist of
tradition, or the whirl and eddy of argument, or the fluctuations
and mazes of chance and of vague and ill-digested experience",1
it is incumbent on us to consider as natural this slow and tor-
tuous progress in knowledge. An ideal methodology would
guide the man of science from the inauguration to the termina-
tion of his enquiry, and render it almost impossible for him to
go far astray. (See especially Conclusions 2, 5, 17, 19, 27, and 28.)
At such a consummation the methodologist must aim ; but since
even moderate perfection is the leisurely product of the ages,
he can only offer a work which shall form a stepping-stone
towards a growingly more accurate and complete methodology.
Yet the ideal should never be lost sight of by him, if only
because it will spur him on to essay his best, and because it
will convince him that even his best is something destined to
be far, far excelled. It is in this chastened mood that the series
of Conclusions which follow have been formulated, and it is
with the intention of supplying a bird's-eye view of these Con-
clusions that a summary of them is herewith subjoined.

I.— GENERAL SUMMARY.

§ 63. (A) Preparatory Stage, (a) We commence our enquiry
by establishing the need of methodological procedure. (Con-
clusion 1.) (b) We show the desirability, the nature, and the

1 Bacon, Novum Organum, bk. 1, 82.

SECTION 19. -INTRODUCTORY AND SUMMARY. 151

origin of a synthetic methodology. (Conclusion 2.) (c) We de-
termine the special and general object of our enquiry. (Con-
clusions 3-4.) (d) We seek to do justice to certain other
preliminary considerations, including provision for experimental
methodological training. (Conclusions 5-12.) (e) We furnish
typical examples of the suggested mode of procedure. (Con-
clusion 13.)

(B) Working Stage, (a) We commence by contemplating the
precise nature of the problem to be investigated. (Conclu-
sions 14-15.) (6) We examine the facts in question according to
certain methods. (Conclusions 16-24.) (c) Having exhaustively
observed, we methodically generalise. (Conclusions 25-28.)
(d) We verify facts and statements. (Conclusion 29.) (e) We
formulate an interim statement. (Conclusion 30.) (/) We pro-
ceed to theoretical and practical deductions. (Conclusions 31-32.)
(g) We classify the material facts elicited by the enquiry. (Con-
clusion 33.) (h) We frame our final statement. (Conclusion 34.)
(i) We prepare a report for reference or for publication. (Con-
clusion 35.)

(C) Final Stage. We consider the wider application and the
improvement of the series of Conclusions. (Conclusion 36.)

II.— SPECIAL SUMMARY.

§ 64. (1) There is a pressing need of procedure being de-
termined methodologically. (Conclusion 1.) (2) There is an
eqnal need that the methodology shall possess a synthetic cha-
racter. (Conclusion 2.) (3) The special object of any enquiry
is to determine the general nature and relations of certain
phenomena, and to promote this end we frame tables of cate-
gories. (Conclusion 3.) (4) The general object of an enquiry
is to reach one or a few correct and comprehensive conclusions.
(Conclusion 4.) (5) Before beginning an investigation, we should
discover a practicable starting point, and acquire some notion
in respect of the complexity of the task which we can profitably
undertake. (Conclusion 5.) (6) We must next be resolved to
shun vagueness and over-subtlety (Conclusion 6); (7) beware
of trusting to formal rules or allowing ourselves to be influenced
by any kind of bias (Conclusion 7); and (8) take advantage of
special scientific methods besides utilising existing knowledge,
whilst allowing for the personal equation and for training. (Con-
clusion 8.) (9) We recognise the need for experimentally prepar-
ing ourselves for efficient investigation (Conclusion 9), (10) and
for securing the mental, physiological, and environmental con-
ditions conducive to efficiency. (Conclusion 10.) (11) Not having
at our disposal unlimited time to observe everything, we systema-
tically skip over battalions of facts and methodically jump to
a provisional conclusion, i.e., we frame hypotheses, never jump-
ing, however, unless we are tolerably assured of the result

PART III.— INTRODUCTORY.

through an extensive preliminary investigation. (Conclusion 11.)
(12) We can accomplish practically nothing of consequence by
ourselves, and therefore the widest collaboration is necessary
in scientific work. (Conclusion 12.) (13) We familiarise our-
selves through a few examples with the form an enquiry should
take. (Conclusion 13.) (14) We seek to determine the precise
nature of the problem to be investigated. (Conclusion 14.)
(15) Common experience resembles shifting sands, and common
terms and reflections mirror them. Accordingly, in seeking
to determine the precise nature of the problem, we need to
aim throughout the enquiry at rigidly defined terms, at precise
comprehensive conclusions, and at definiteness in thought and
statements generally. (Conclusion 15.) (16) We look around for
undisputed facts apposite to our enquiry, and note what patent
resemblances and divergences they present. We turn in every
direction in space and time to collect samples of the pheno-
menon until we are reasonably sure that we fairly apprehend
its specific nature. In observing, there is need of strenuous
mental application, and need of the observations being, among
other things, graded, comprehensive, important, numerous, full,
rational and relevant, original, automatically initiated, and
methodically developed. (Conclusion 16.) (17) We take now
a snapshot at a particular fact. We examine whether it is
really one and not composite, really composite and not one.
We distinguish it from its environment, and measure the in-
fluence of time and position in space and consciousness. (Con-
clusion 17.) (18) To observe, even for an instant, is mainly
to recognise; to observe for several instants involves that we
do not forget what we observe from instant to instant; and the
conduct of an enquiry therefore commonly implies an efficient
memory and keeping and consulting records. Furthermore, the
process entails adaptation to circumstances known and unknown,
and therefore a more or less full use and understanding of the
imagination and a systematic utilisation of the thought process.
(Conclusion 18.) (19) We acknowledge the need for ensuring
easy, exhaustive, 'and impartial observation. (Conclusion 19.)

(20) We search for the simplest practicable case. (Conclusion 20.)

(21) We are habitually alert, and keep our attention unremit-
tingly concentrated. (Conclusion 21.) (22) We collect the largest
number of facts accessible to an indefatigable investigator, and
ascertain the unlike as well as the like. (Conclusion 22.) (23) We
exhaust classes of static and dynamic facts, their conditions,
and their accompanying uniformities. (Conclusion 23.) (24) Our
attitude is throughout critical and our treatment provisional,
and we test results repeatedly. (Conclusion 24.) (25) Having
observed a number of instances, we collate the common charac-
ters, and form one or more generalisations. In generalising, there
is need of strenuous mental application, and need of the generali-
sations being graded, comprehensive, important, numerous, full,

SECTION W.— INTRODUCTORY AND SUMMARY. 153

rational and relevant, original, automatically initiated, and me-
thodically developed. (Conclusion 25.) (26) We also remember
to postpone indulging in large generalisations until near the
conclusion of the investigation. (Conclusion 26.) (27) We ex-
haust the degree of applicability of a conclusion, and also strive
to discover parallel, distantly related, and seemingly unrelated,
instances. (Conclusion 27.) (28) We proceed dialectically, and
search for what is contradictory, contrary, opposite, common, dis-
parate, supplementary, alternative, complementary, dependent,
interdependent, and relative. (Conclusion 28.) (29) We should
be on our guard against error, and therefore need to verify what
we deem that we have already ascertained. Moreover, generali-
sations and deductions being admittedly hypothetical, veri-
fication and demonstration are essential if they are not to prove
broken reeds. Indeed, verification must needs be resorted to
at every stage of the enquiry. (Conclusion 29.) (30) After
having exhausted and gradually consolidated the various lines of
the inductive enquiry, we aim at a balanced jnterim statement
which is also to serve as a basis for the fuller deductive pro-
cess. (Conclusion 30.) (31) The moment we possess statements
which are at all reliable, we endeavour not only to extend them,
but we see whether we can deduce anything from them. There
is need of strenuous mental application in the process of deduc-
tion, and need of the deductions being graded, comprehensive,
important, full, rational and relevant, original, automatically
initiated, and methodically developed. (Conclusion 31.) (32) We
complete the deductive enquiry by drawing whatever practical
deductions the circumstances permit. (Conclusion 32.) (33) We
also recognise the necessity, more especially in the last stages
of an enquiry, of judiciously classifying facts. (Conclusion 33.)
(34) We formulate a comprehensive final statement. (Con-
clusion 34.) (35) We acknowledge the need of being concise
in statements, of circumspectly summing up, and of writing
acceptably. (Conclusion 35.) (36) And, finally, we recognise
formally the need of respecting each of the above Conclusions
in all the above Conclusions, of improving these, and of applying
them systematically to the life of practice. (Conclusion 36.)
§ 65. If, in imagination, we place ourselves in the hoped-for
future when practically all men and women will be models as
regards scientific thought, and when language itself will be a
scientifically fashioned instrument, we shall find the adage "non
multa, sed multum" exemplified there. Such will be the effec-
tiveness of thought and the treasure of accurate and syste-
matised information absorbed by each that, on an investigator
publishing merely the full definition or generalisation he has
arrived at, those interested will be mostly able to infer not a little
that is of moment with ease and promptitude. Conversely, the
investigator himself will be so perfect a methodologist— aided by
classifications, notations, tables, diagrams, machines, etc.— that.

154 PART IV.— PREPARATORY STAGE.

apart from the process of collecting obscure facts, his work,
at least compared to that of a modern investigator, will be
almost like child's play. (See § 114.) Indeed, all men and women
will be inventors and discoverers of an elevated order, and
comparatively little of secondary importance will need to be
imparted or learnt. The conception of the real and the possible
in this connection should act as a potent incentive to those who
desire to liberate mankind from groping ignorance and servile
dependence on chaotic traditions.

PART IV.
PREPARATORY STAGE.

SECTION XX.— STUDIES PREPARATORY TO ALL INVESTIGA-
TIONS.

CONCLUSION 1.
Need of Procedure being determined Methodologically.

§ 66. The assumption underlying all methodological think-
ing is that we should be conscious of the need of proceeding
methodologically. At present such consciousness can scarcely
be alleged to exist. Method to-day is mostly a matter of tradi-
tion, and fortunate are those sciences where the traditions are
of a superior order.

In many of the social sciences, for instance, scientific method
is almost completely ignored. The writer on ethics, for ex-
ample, is as a rule unperturbed either in regard to making
sure of his facts or as to verifying his conclusions, unless in-
deed fugitive and haphazard attention to these is to be honoured
by such a name. He generalises, he deduces, he speculates,
he affirms and denies, irrespective of a stern and synthetic
guiding rule. No wonder, therefore, that ethical systems are
almost as plentiful as blackberry bushes in the country. Any
one with an exuberant imagination, well read in general, who
has acquainted himself with the airy speculations of the past,
can possess his own ethical universe of thought.

If we turn to psychology, we are on a relatively higher plane,
since much is made here of facts ; but rigorous method is also
in this instance deplorably lacking, witness the almost universal
acceptance of commonplaces — which are the bane of science-
relating to the nature of the sensations, attention, habit, me-
mory, imagination, ratiocination, pleasure and pain, emotions,
will, and touching almost everything else in psychology. No
wonder that Herbart, Thomas Brown, and James Mill, who wrote
about a century ago, are scarcely out of date, except perhaps
for part of their plain terminology.

SECTION 20. —STUDIES PREPARATORY TO ALL INVESTIGATIONS. 155

In sociology abundant and invaluable detail work has been
performed; but if we reflect that one may almost say "as many
sociologists, so many sociological systems", one feels that here
also too much freedom is given to the speculative fancy.

In short, over extensive tracts of modern thought, no true
scientific spirit broods. Unjustified generalisations and deduc-
tions abound, methodical observation and verification are neg-
lected, subtlety in argument is prized, traditions, conventions,
and prejudices are revered, affirmative instances are assiduously
collected and negative instances disposed of by ingenious argu-
ments, and were it not that our well-informed age has col-
lected many facts exacting a minimum of allusions to reality,
we could not be said in diverse departments to be far removed
from pre-Baconian days.

The first need, then, is to be aware that most generally men's
cogitations are not methodologically controlled, and that scienti-
fic advance would be immensely aided if the reverse were
the case. Unmethodological thinking is world-removed from
methodological thinking. Let us submit some examples in illus-
tration of this contention. (See also Section IX.)

§ 67. In recent years the theory has become increasingly
popular that the human species, like animal species, is primarily
determined in its conduct by instincts, pace the works of Kirk-
patrick, McDougall, Ellwood, and others. At last we are supposed
to have struck the bedrock fact in psychology, sociology, and
ethics. Yet extreme vagueness is noticeable regarding the signi-
fication of the term Instinct. Sometimes it is conceived as an
impulse; sometimes as an inherited functional arrangement by
which impulses are gratified; sometimes it is confounded with
the total hereditary outfit; and its distant relation to automatic
and reflex action, on the one hand, and habit and deliberate
thought, on the other, is confidently commented on. That is,
a popular conception, misty in the highest degree, is proposed
as the basis of a number of sciences.

As a matter of fact, several factors are involved in the term
Instinct and should be made explicit. The existence of native
impulses or (a) inborn needs should be considered as forming
a separate fact. A child who is kept inordinately long without
food may become unhappy and complain of a pain somewhere
in the neighbourhood of the stomach. There is here a dis-
equilibrium, but without any connected tendency to right
itself. Should such an equilibrating tendency be inborn, we
frequently speak of an innately determined mode of procedure
or (b) instinct. But if instincts are dependent on needs, they
are no less dependent on (c) organs whereby to satisfy the
needs. These organs, again, are often of a specific character,
as the tiger's claws, the mole's snout, or the spider's spinning
apparatus. Beyond needs, modes of procedure, and means,
we should also allow for (d) the general adaptive structure of

156 PART IV.— PREPARATORY STAGE.

the animal, as in the suppleness of the cat, of (e) certain pro-
tective structures like the tortoise's armour, and for the so-
called (/) automatic and (<?) reflex acts which determine certain
bodily actions, internal and external. Only when the problem
is conceived in this many-sided way by allowing for at least
seven distinct inborn factors, is it probable that we shall not
be ensnared in a net of words when comparing, for example,
human and animal "instincts". Methodologically it is inconceiv-
able that a world-wide movement, inspired by scholars of dis-
tinction, should have existed for a number of years favouring
the instinct theory, and that yet the theory should remain in
a shockingly rudimentary state.

The kindred problem of heredity and culture is in the same
predicament. Scores of works, dealing directly or indirectly
with heredity, assert emphatically that just as the activities
of animals are determined primarily by congenital capacities^
so are those of human beings. In whatever walk of life there-
fore men or women are superior to their fellows, they haver
it is contended, to ascribe their superiority mainly to their
native outfit. Education has assigned to it a certain value.,
but a quite subsidiary one. Yet methodologically this consti-
tutes again an impossible attitude. Why not learn what primi-
tive peoples can and do achieve at school and at college—
economic, scholastic, and other surrounding conditions being
approximately equal?1 Why not observe cases of the adoption
of new-born infants where family circumstances have been radi-
cally altered? Or, as a matter of fact, why not pursue the
recognised experimental method, adopting children of different
peoples and social layers from birth, and giving each as nearly
as possible the very same and the very best education and
upbringing? Why not? Because our age is as yet mostly
unconscious of the need of procedure being determined methodo-
logically, and is too frequently content to pronounce magiste-
rially on matters for which it has no verified evidence.

Similarly with the cognate case of the historical advance of
culture. Here, from Darwin onwards, it has been ceaselessly
reiterated that the changes in species are too slow to be directly
observable. Nevertheless, Darwin and his followers have alleged
the existence of a chain of traceable biologically-produced trans-
formations in man, from the Australian aboriginal (whose men-
tality and morality were supposed to be scarcely higher than
those of the apes) to the advanced European (said to be capable
of acute logical penetration and limitless altruism). Methodo-
logical reflection would have forced the contradiction into the
foreground and would have shown that if natural selection has
produced the cultural differences between Australian and Cen-
tral European, it necessarily follows that about equally great

1 E. B. Sargant, Report on Native Education in South Africa, Part III, 1908.

SECTION 20.— STUDIES PREPARATORY TO ALL INVESTIGATIONS. 157

differences should be visible in at least many of the higher
animal species, which is decidedly not the fact, as Darwinians
themselves are at pains to demonstrate.

§ 68. Again. Scrutinise in this light Herbert Spencer's
thesis that "every kind of progress is from the homogeneous
to the heterogeneous". This interesting assumption he strives
to substantiate by adducing a liberal number of pertinent illustra-
tions in his essay "Progress: its Law and Cause".1 Had metho-
dology been a recognised science in his day, he could never
have proceeded as he did. He would have automatically tested
his assumption by searching, as Darwin would have done, for
instances where the opposite tendency, that towards homo-
geneity, was expressive of progress, and generally applied
dialectical methods such as those incorporated in Conclusions
27 and 28. With but a modicum of labour he would have
accordingly reached the conclusion that his plausible thesis was
untenable and should be abandoned. For example. In our
generation integration has been a signal method of progress.
Speaking generally, the variety of meridians has been reduced
to one; a single gauge, in the place of the pre-existing multi-
tude of gauges, has been growingly favoured for railway tracks,
and a single universal keyboard for typewriters; screws and
numerous other industrial products have been standardised;- the
metric system has superseded the many local standards of mea-
surement in diverse countries, and bids fair to be universally
adopted; the standardising of Census and other statistics has
been suggested and partly realised;^ the rules of the sea and
those of warfare are each being gradually reduced to a single
system of rules; processes and methods of organisation are
coming to be standardised in industry and commerce generally ;
nations enter into compacts whereby numberless differences
bearing on international relations are abrogated and replaced
by uniform practices; scientific bodies are intermittently en-
gaged in elaborating international usages pertaining to their
special domain and also in coordinating endeavours ; the multi-
plicity of theories which erstwhile obtained is, in one depart-
ment after another, driven out of the field by a single one or
a modest few; comprehensive and unequivocal codes of law

1 Essays, London, ed. 1907.

- "The American Society of Automobile Engineers, finding that 1,100 sizes
of seamless steel tubes were being made, prevailed upon the manufacturers
to reduce the number to 160 ; again, finding that 600 sorts of lockwashers
were in use, they similarly reduced the number to 20." (M. and A. D.
McKillop, Efficiency Methods, 1917, pp. 60-61.) "A Government department
finds by classifying that 76 kinds of pennibs are used by its clerks; direct
economy and the simplification of storage follow by reducing these kinds
to seven or eight, with little or no inconvenience to anybody. A printing
plant finds, by classifying, that it has stocked 200 types of paper, whereas
85 will cover all possible needs." (Ibid., p. 64.)

; Patrick Geddes, The Classification of Statistics and its Results, Edin-
burgh, 1881.

15g PART IV.— PREPARATORY STAGE.

take the place of a bewildering mass of dubious precedents;
the chaos in administration, both private and public, is progres-
sively being removed; and general advance entails the ulti-
mate abolition of individual and collective error, inequality, and
discord. An interminable aggregation of general facts could
be thus collected to illustrate that the tendency towards homo-
geneity comports with the tendency towards progress. Apply-
ing other rules comprised in Conclusions 27 and 28, we should
learn by degrees that progress is compatible both with increase
and decrease of heterogeneity, and that retrogression may be
equally accompanied by an augmentation or diminution of dif-
ferentiation. It would hence become manifest that the law of
progress does not lie in the direction surmised by Herbert
Spencer. Utilising subsequently other methodological rules,
but of a constructive character, the true lav/ and cause of pro-
gress would be partly or wholly revealed. Indeed, the uni-
versal acceptance of a single and reliable system of methodology,
displacing the present blind groping, would of itself denote an
epoch-marking stage in human progress.

§ 69. Or consider a quite modern instance of precipitate
reasoning. Prof. Siegmund Freud, of Vienna, has developed a
theory, the substance of which is that sex is the predominant,
or rather the dominant, factor in life.1 2 Hysteria and neur-
asthenia3 are one of its fruits, as well as many forms of in-
sanity4, if not all; occurrences of forgetfulness and mistakes in
words have mostly the same origin5; and dreams6 are traced
to no other source. A few years have hardly elapsed, and
Freudism is threatening to become the fashion. In a sense the
theory as developed is complimentary to the moral atmosphere
of to-day, for it asserts that we hastily suppress our sex thoughts
and prevent them thus from forcing themselves into the strongly
illuminated focus of consciousness. However, according to Freud
these thoughts revenge themselves by masquerading as ever-
recurring innocent thoughts. Then, when the magician of the
Freud school is summoned by a patient, he produces a com-
plete and permanent change or cure, by transforming the sub-
conscious feelings and thoughts into conscious ones. Now there
is no reason in "the nature of things" as known to us, why
this theory should not be true. But is it well grounded ? This
seems not to be the case. Casual facts are cited in support,
a procedure which at best could only prove that such instances
occur. On the other side, any normal person who for a month

1 Drei Abhandlungen zur Sexualtheorie.

- In England Freudism flourishes under the name of psycho-analysis and
the psychology of the unconscious, and has as a rule discarded the general
theory that sex reasons underlie all human abnormalities and defects.

:! Studien fiber Hysteric.

4 Sammlung kleiner Schriften zur Neurosenlehre.

•"' Zur Psydiopathologie des Alltagslebens.

6 Die Traumdeutung .

SECTION 20.— STUDIES PREPARATORY TO ALL INVESTIGATIONS. 159

has kept a faithful diary of matters or names he forgot, wrong
words he used, dreams he experienced, thoughts he suppressed,
and who had observed the origination of nervousness, would
be probably appalled on how ethereal a foundation a mighty
structure can be raised in the absence of methodological think-
ing. Taking life as a whole, as it passes from moment to
moment, and men and women in the mass, at least in certain
countries, sex has almost invariably no significant part to play ;
suppressed and disguised sex thoughts, save at certain junc-
tures, prove to be rare in the waking and dream life of all but
the few depraved or diseased;1 fully conscious ideas often drive
individuals into insanity (Lady Macbeth and many in similar
positions); and overexertion and economic anxieties, and scores
of other causes, lead to nervous instability. A truth appli-
cable to a microscopic part of life, and valuable in itself, is in
this way metamorphosed into a gigantic and monstrous false-
hood because of lax methodological canons. Here the blame
lies less on the originator, whose time and thought are absorbed
in endeavouring to detect a new truth, than on the scholarly
sympathisers who could readily descry the limitations of the
theory, but unjustifiably fail to do this. As a result of this
neglect of methodological canons, entire generations are fre-
quently deluded by theories whose truth or error it would be
easy to ascertain in a methodological age.

§ 70. Perhaps the acid test of the need of a recognised
methodology is the state of logic during the last half century.
Let us dispassionately, and without acidity, apply this test. A
large number of manuals of logic have been published during
this period, mostly entitled Logic, Deductive and Inductive. In
almost all cases, even where the title was different, the first

1 Normal mental life is honeycombed with half-suppressed, and especially
half-disguised, thoughts of every class. For instance, many individuals are
keenly critical of certain defects in others— without noticing that the corres-
ponding defects in themselves induce them to fix their attention on the
same defects in their neighbours. Or they may constantly seem to dread
being tempted by others, when this is merely due to disguised self-indul-
gence. Or men, as is so often the case, will find "reasons" for rejecting
an unwelcome truth, quite unconscious that aversion to what is unwelcome,
and not reverence for truth, is the motive. In a society so complex and
so ill organised as ours, half-suppressed and half-disguised thoughts must be
of necessity very common in every direction where difficulties are en-
countered. (See § 82.) Moreover, a thought sharply dismissed has no rever-
berations, as homely experiments will prove (see also end of § 97), and
fixing a thought will equally lead to its definite dismissal. It is only when
we half-heartedly turn away from thoughts, or pretend that we dismiss them,
or half-coquet with them that they haunt us. However, this is true uni-
versally, underlies all sustained cogitations, and according to the life-history
of an individual or a people, the type of half-submerged thought may vary
indefinitely. Probably local reasons, imperfectly apprehended, suggested to
Prof. Freud that sex is the controlling factor of the conscious and sub-con-
scious life. Living in other regions, intoxicants, worldly ambition, religion,
for instance, would have appeared to Freud as constituting men's inmost
desire.

160 PART IV.— PREPARATORY STAGE. .

part discussed the Aristotelian logic, and the second part induc-
tive logic.

To the man of science unfamiliar with text-books on logic,
but frequently having recourse to deduction in his scientific
labours, it would naturally occur to examine the first part of
one of those works on logic with a view to finding a detailed
exposition of the deductive method. Considering that there is
almost a consensus of opinion among logicians in regard to the
signal superiority of deduction over induction (§ 49), this scholar
would anticipate a forcible and somewhat exhaustive treatment
of the subject. He would be therefore amazed when he dis-
covered scarcely a trace of anything directly dealing with, or
having a bearing on, what he calls deduction. Anxious to be
fair, he would be perplexed at the title of the books and marvel
what the Aristotelian logic had to do with deduction. Admirable
this logic is in its way, he would argue, but that it is a stranger
to the process of deduction in science is patent.

On further reflection he may reason that possibly, however
inconsistent it might appear, the problem of deduction is ade-
quately examined in the second part of these works, that is in
the part relating to induction. Turning to this, he will probably
discover pertinent references, but of the scantiest kind. Leav-
ing aside theoretical discussions of the precise signification of
the terms induction and deduction, he will presumably not find
half-a-dozen pages allotted to the subject, all save a page or so
being devoted to a general survey. Having virtually consulted
every recent volume on logic, he will wonder what advantage
accrues to young students who master any of these treatises.
Certainly, so far as deductive procedure in science is concerned,
they could scarcely know less after studying such manuals than
they knew before.

Thoroughly aroused, our man of science sets himself the
laborious task to learn what these manuals do teach. Having
completed his enquiry, we may imagine him summing up his
conclusions in this manner: "The Aristotelian logic, exhaus-
tively dealt with in the first part of these volumes, has, mani-
festly, a definitely practical object — to ensure, so far as mere
reasoning about matters completely known is concerned, that
conclusions should be systematically tested by a certain pro-
cess. Tacitly or overtly, however, the hoary custom of re-
quiring students to assimilate the Aristotelian logic, has degene-
rated into a mere memorising and understanding of the text.
For sundry dubious reasons, the palpable and justifiable object
of the discipline is ignored or disputed. In our scientific age,
this logic may go but a little way; but intelligently appre-
hended, it is worth being acquainted with. What strikes one
in this respect, is how alarmingly illogical logicians can be,
discussing a plainly practical treatise as if it were a work
having not the remotest connection with practice.

SECTION 20.— STUDIES PREPARATORY TO ALL INVESTIGATIONS. 161

"The second part of these manuals is more provoking. This
part is supposed to represent modernity and science, as the
first part obviously reflects antiquity and verbalism. Broadly
speaking, we have here a more or less close reflection of John
Stuart Mill's treatment of induction. Proceeding practically on
the assumption that discovery is due to innate and unana-
lysable capacities possessed only by the favoured few, the
contention of the authors generally is that inductive logic is
only concerned with proof. Even so, however, its object, it is
said, is not to impart practical knowledge enabling the student
to 'prove all things', but to comprehend the principles on
which the scholar of acknowledged scientific eminence proceeds.

"From the viewpoint of the man of science the inductive
logics exhibit a painful misapprehension of the nature of science.
Whilst investigators move in a world where practical certainty
is infrequent and theoretical certainty is almost altogether
absent, our logicians discuss, e.g., the philosophy of induction
and the precise meaning of the term hypothesis, from a purely
speculative and perfectionist standpoint. The great matter, if
one may indulge in a sweeping statement, is words, words,
words, and the means of illuminating the words is by words,
words, words, and the total result is still words, words, words.

"However, the man of science may not be competent to
appraise at their true value these discussions aiming at theo-
retical certainty. What, then, of the considered tests relating
to legitimate induction as they appear in the text-books? In
this matter one is astonished to note that whilst science has
during the last eighty years progressed by leaps and bounds,
Mill's rather incomplete analysis of the scientific process has
become more and more attenuated, till almost only its bare
shadow remains in the more recent books. His five Canons
are dutifully quoted and a few words are said in explanation ;
but the pages devoted to observation, generalisation, and deduc-
tion, have dwindled to a diminutive rump.

"Of course, our logicians may retort that the object of their
inductive logic is not practical. The difficulty, however, is to
discover what purpose, in that case, these manuals are supposed
to serve. Are we to assume that the few rules presented on
the various aspects of methodological procedure are the only
rules, or the most important rules, to be abstracted from the
best practice of men of science? They are certainly neither
the one nor the other; in fact, one's heart sinks when one
meditates that not one of the very able writers on the methods
of science appears to have made an actual study of the scienti-
fic process in their own labours, or even in those of men of
science. Had they done so, they would have much- restricted
the discussion of terms, only given a page or two to the prob-
lem of theoretical certainty, greatly extended the rules, and,
with each decade, exhibited an increasing superiority over

11

IQ2 PART IV.- PREPARATORY STAGE.

Mill's text. Just as any science progresses, so in inductive
logic progress would be clearly perceptible when we compared
a recent work on logic with Mill's Logic. Here, as with deduc-
tion, one notices the surprising fact that the expounders of
inductive logic are as nearly as possible complete strangers to
their subject, if a scientific standard be applied. They offer
unintentionally a fundamentally inadequate presentment of the
scientific process, and, in this respect, therefore, mislead their
readers instead of guiding them aright. Insistence on theo-
retical certainty, and a conviction that this can be compassed
by speculation, mark perhaps every one of these manuals, and
render them useless for promoting an understanding of scienti-
fic method, for scientific method is no more concerned with
theoretical certainty than with pure speculation, but is con-
tinuously controlled and guided by carefully ascertained facts,
and by the belief that theoretical certainty is an ideal which
can only be distantly approached in practice."

§ 71. Even in the physical sciences the lack of a methodo-
logy is sometimes strikingly exemplified, witness the works
relating to Sound. Here there has been a steady flow of text-
books from year to year during the last quarter of a century,
with scarcely any perceptible progress, precisely as if the
science of sound had already attained to the pinnacle of perfec-
tion. Yet on examining these text-books, they as a rule appear
plainly to bear the marks of patch-work knowledge, with little
order, many lacunae, not a little of questionable authenticity,
and no consciousness of the need of improvement. Surely, in
a methodological age, a writer on Sound would make an unr
prejudiced and exhaustive study of the subject, and appreciably
advance the science by filling in gaps,, correcting errors, and
clarifying concepts. By this day we ought to possess text-books
that are virtually complete so far as the main categories are
concerned, and that conveyed the truths in question in a lucid
and organic manner. Mechanical repetitions, where the problems
themselves are not abstruse, should be regarded as reflecting
small credit on a work. Nor should the occasional revision or
addition of a point or two be deemed adequate. The result
of such a poor conception of the role of a writer is that too
frequently scientific works are overloaded with traditional
matter, and offer little encouragement to the student to pursue
the paths of original research. Broadly speaking, he learns
his text-book by rote ; by rote he later teaches it ; and by rote
he writes a new text-book. In fact, leaving aside musical-
acoustics, which has been assiduously cultivated, the last gene-
ration or so appears only to muster in England two decidedly
stimulating books on Sound— TyndalPs deservedly popular work
and Lord Raleigh's masterly treatise.

If traditionalism be one cause of comparative stagnation in
science, another is over-specialisation. Like bees fly indefati-

SECTION 20.— STUDIES PREPARATORY TO ALL INVESTIGATIONS. 163

gably from flower to flower and sip drops of nectar in each,
so fractional parts of a fractional part of a fractional subject
are studied in indeterminate succession. This excludes a com-
prehensive survey, entails much ambiguity and stumbling in
the dark, involves numerous errors and immeasurably great
labour, and leaves every science in a ragged and chaotic con-
dition for long periods. Traditionalism and over-specialisation
fatally retard the progress of science, and these are largely the
result of the lack of an established methodology. Considering
the complexity, elusiveness, and vast multiplicity of facts, only
a thorough methodology can grapple with them effectively and
without the sad waste of an immense amount of energy and
time.

Sufficient has been stated to demonstrate the dire need there
is of researches, whether they be styled scientific, philosophical,
or practical, being methodologically determined and controlled.

CONCLUSION 2.

Need of a Synthetic Methodology, and of a Historical Appre-
ciation of Differences in Methods, and in the Scope of Enquiries.

A.— NEED OF A SYNTHETIC METHODOLOGY.

§ 72. It was the imperishable glory of Bacon not only to
have insisted on humbly interrogating nature instead of pre-
sumptuously speculating concerning her secrets, but to have
recognised the momentous importance of fusing the various
scientific methods into one method. Thereby alone, he rightly
felt, would the temptation be vanquished to emphasise or em-
ploy only certain fractional methods. Our plea in these pages
must therefore be both in favour of the utilisation of given
methods and of applying these in a certain determinate suc-
cession. Such a synthetic mode of discovery will preclude
investigators being satisfied with anything short of an exhaus-
tive enquiry.

Allowing for the moment that the following methods are to
be applied not only in succession but at each stage of the
enquiry according to need, and that we are contemplating what
may be designated a complete enquiry, the total process may
be summarised in this way: (a) Determination of problem to be
inquired into (Conclusions 14-15); (b) Observation, including,
where possible, experiment and calculations (Conclusions 16-24) ;
followed by (c) Generalisation (Conclusions 25-28), (d) Verifi-
cation (Conclusion 29), (e) Interim Statement (Conclusion 30),
(/) Deduction (Conclusion 31), (g) Application (Conclusion 32),
(h) Classification (Conclusion 33), (0 Final Statement (Conclu-
sion 34), and (/) Report (Conclusion 35).*

According to this plan a truth is not to be considered as
fairly established when only one or another scientific method

11*

164 PART IV.— PREPARATORY STAGE.

is applied, or when a number of these is fortuitously employed.
To attain our end, a mode of procedure has to be resorted to
whose initial stage is the determination of the precise problem
to be examined and whose final stage is the report. Obser-
vation, for example, is hence a mere preliminary to generali-
sation and admittedly without appreciable significance in the
absence of the latter, whilst generalisations which are not verified
and are not crystallised into a comprehensive interim definition
(itself the introduction to the process of deduction, etc.), remain
more or less meaningless. A truth may therefore be said only
to be established, or properly inquired into, when (a) to (/') have
been applied in orderly succession, no section of the process
being omitted and none being utilised out of place.

The logical connection of these methods will, it is hoped,
recommend itself on examination, (a) We should, to begin with,
naturally be clear as to the nature of the problem with which
we are concerned. (Here we are aided by the table of Cate-
gories incorporated in Conclusions 3 and 33.) To remain in
doubt on this score is to rob the whole enquiry of its meaning.
(b) Granted clarity in this respect, it is as obvious that nothing
is achieved when no more is attempted, as that the next step
should be the examining and ascertaining of the facts, for to
generalise or to treat deductively unverified statements would
be evidently fatal to solid progress. If the determination of
the problem must be and can be only followed by an examina-
tion of the facts, it is equally beyond question that the further
step is, where possible, resort to experiment, for this permits
of observation under relatively ideal conditions, (c) Since the
number of particulars in an enquiry is as a rule incalculably
great, this distinctly suggests that our goal is not reached,
and that we should accordingly somehow arrange or compress
these details into classes. The process of generalising follows
therefore necessarily on that of observing and experimenting.
(d) Yet to generalise is to conjecture that what we think holds
true of certain phenomena holds equally true of others, but of
that we cannot be sure without verification. Generalisation is
hence of necessity succeeded by verification and by nothing
else immediately, (e) Fairly embarked upon the process of
generalisation, we naturally generalise our generalisations, and
this issues in a summary statement or definition, epitomising in
the fewest terms possible the results thus far attained. Here
apparently our enquiry has reached its natural climax and con-
clusion. (/) If, however, we probe the matter, we discover that
we should be poor indeed if we proceeded no further. In fact,
we stand only before the golden gates. The circumspectly for-
mulated summary statement forms an ideal point of departure
for the process of deduction, whereby we not only obtain con-
vincing proofs of the general proposition we have reached, but
by which we also discover innumerable important truths that

SECTION 20.- STUDIES PREPARATORY TO ALL INVESTIGATIONS. 165

open up hew vistas and new enquiries. In fact, we are now
reaching in a novel way the truths which it would have been
far more difficult to detect by continuing the process of obser-
vation and generalisation, (g) We have now learned what we
desired on the theoretical side ; but this leaves an arbitrary gap,
namely, the discovery of the causes whereby the facts are or
may be produced, and the satisfaction of men's practical require-
ments so far as this can be attained through applying the theo-
retical knowledge acquired, (h) Even now, however, most of
our labour may prove futile if the various particular and general
facts which we have gathered are not preserved to some extent.
We therefore classify our whole relevant material in an order
most convenient and profitable for inspection. These classified
facts prepare thus the way for our comprehensive definition,
as our comprehensive definition illumines them. The two form,
as a matter of fact, a single or interdependent totality. (*) This
need gratified, we are again threatened with a formless con-
clusion to our enquiry, and hence we compress our results in a
comprehensive definition which, at a glance, can instruct us as
to the total outcome of our enquiry, (j) One more step needs
to be taken to conclude the enquiry — we must prepare a written
report. If we neglect to do this, our imperfect memory and
inarticulated memoranda will lead to the loss of the truth which
we have toilsomely built up, and, again, if we perform this task
indifferently, our statement may be too obscure and will there-
fore tend to nullify our- labours, or it may be so unattractive
because of its plain dress that it will arouse practically no
public attention. The interdependent and synthetic unity of
the scientific process of enquiry is thus readily demonstrated.

As already hinted, two reservations should be made in con-
nection with the preceding statement. Assuming that we are
concerned with a complete enquiry, it might be concluded that
once our observations are succeeded by generalisation, the
process of observation has drawn definitely to a close, and
that observation constitutes a self-contained mode of procedure
affected by nothing outside itself. Both these assumptions are
unjustified. The need for sedulously observing, examining, or
calculating, persists through every stage of the complete pro-
cess of enquiry, while the obverse is also true that each section
of the complete process should represent in miniature the com-
plete process. At every stage we shall hence have frequent
occasions to observe, to generalise, to verify, to define, 4x>
deduce, to apply, to classify, to re-define, and to write. Bare
observation, generalisation, etc., most imperfectly satisfy scienti-
fic requirements.

More serious is the objection that enquiries are not seldom
partial ones, and that therefore the synthetic method is not
uniformly applicable. To a certain extent there is a transparent
answer to this objection, for enquiries to-day are in countless

PART IV.— PREPARATORY STAGE.

instances partial when they should be and might be more or
less complete. As we have pointed out in Conclusions 4 and 25
more especially, the contemporary interest in fragmentary
enquiries is highly prejudicial and detrimental to the establish-
ment of truth and to rapid discovery, a fact which the tenor
of this Conclusion makes almost self-evident. This conceded,
however, it need only be remarked that in a necessarily partial
enquiry, consonant, say, with Darwin's life-long practice, every-
thing should be done to render it as comprehensive as possible
and, as suggested in the preceding paragraph, to introduce into
every one of its parts the components of the complete enquiry.

B.— NEED OF A HISTORIC APPRECIATION OF DIFFERENCES IN
METHODS AND IN THE SCOPE OF ENQUIRIES.

§ 73. The question of the general standard applicable to
methods and to the scope of enquiries is of such far-reaching
consequence that it is advisable to associate it closely with the
problem discussed in A. Without viewing methodological
matters in true perspective, there is danger of misapprehend-
ing them seriously and becoming enmeshed in delusive and
paralysing subtleties. We shall accordingly deal with the sub-
ject here at some length.

(a) In A we pleaded for a synthetic methodology. In this
place, however, we desire to dilate on the historic process which
has rendered possible such a system. This analysis should
therefore prove useful from more than one point of view.

In methodology, if anywhere, comparisons are odious. One
thinker will emphasise the importance of observation, another
of experiment, a third of generalisation or deduction, and so
on, and the reader will be tempted to pronounce himself in
favour of one or another school. The methodological con-
ceptions of different scholars and ages are also commonly judged
to be inferior or superior. A historical study of the problems
will lead us to deprecate indiscriminate comparisons.

Before much thought had been devoted to deliberate enquiries,
even the very notion of method had not suggested itself. At
first, with no positive knowledge to guide or check men's
cogitations, haphazard thinking and examination appeared satis-
factory, since there was nothing to indicate that the results
reached were fanciful or well-nigh worthless. Then, slowly, by
insensible gradations, sounder knowledge, on the one hand,
accumulated, and, on the other, casual experience and reflection
were increasingly found to be inadequate and disappointing.
Accordingly, one methodological aspect here and another there,
rose more and more into prominence. At each fairly developed
stage, too, individuals and schools, as now, imagined that the
ideal had been at last attained, only however to be superseded
by a somewhat higher placed school equally confident of having

SECTION 20.— STUDIES PREPARATORY TO ALL INVESTIGATIONS. 167

arrived at finality. Granted, initially, a virtual chaos and scanty
positive knowledge whereby to appraise results, and we can
readily comprehend both the gradual and disjointed evolution
of methods as well as the step-by-step improvement of parti-
cular modes of procedure.

If, therefore, a modern observer appears to us greatly
superior, as an observer, to a Lucretius or a Pliny, we ought
to seek the explanation in the connected development of posi-
tive knowledge and of sounder methods, and not in inborn
capacity. Similarly, if the scholars of the Middle Ages implicitly
assumed that in the ancients all requisite information was to
be found, we shall appreciate their attitude if we place our-
selves in their position and recognise how immeasurably great
the Latin and Greek classics must have appeared to a people
which had practically no contemporary culture. Reliance on
authority was therefore defensible in those days. For the same
reason, encountering in Aristotle's works the syllogistic method,
it was natural for the scholastics to postulate that scientific
method and Aristotelian method were one. So, also, with
theology filling almost the whole sky of their non-material
interests, it was only to be expected that the Middle Ages
should have almost exclusively concentrated on the production
of theological treatises. Historic reasons, consequently, may
be said to proffer almost the complete explanation of the
differences obtaining between the mentality of the scholastics
and those of our men of science.

Again, consider Roger Bacon's conception of the right method
of investigation. As we might expect, the appeal to experience
and experiment was growing in his day, and he was only one
of the foremost champions of that method. However, represent-
ing a rather primitive methodological stage historically, we must
not be surprised to discover that his conception of experience
and experiment was exceedingly crude and confused, almost a
caricature of modern views on the subject. Only protracted
collective experience lays bare the comparative defectiveness
of any methods in use, and Roger Bacon, as an individual,
cannot be therefore charged with gross scientific incompetence.

His namesake, Francis Bacon, occupied a precisely analogous
position at a later historic stage. Experience and experiment
had enormously advanced — Galileo and Gilbert are apt illus-
trations of this. About the same period the growth of mathe-
matics and the further accumulation of sifted facts brought
also the deductive method into vogue, as Descartes' Regulae
strikingly exemplify. In view of this methodological develop-
ment along multiple lines, Francis Bacon's enthusiasm, as well
as his methodological triumphs and failures, are readily under-
stood. He, also, represents primarily a historic stage and
epoch, and therefore manifestly could not have been a perfect
methodologist.

PART IV.— PREPARATORY STAGE.

Gradually thus, more and more, higher and higher, increas-
ingly synthetic, methods develop through the ages. If, then,
at some historic stage speculation, observation, or reckless de-
duction prevails, excellent reasons may usually be cited in justi-
fication. Nor may we forget that, since the development is
encouraged by but a few social factors, almost at every epoch
we encounter the comparatively highest developed and the
comparatively lowest developed methods— and their inter-
mediates—socially diffused.

Such, broadly speaking, is the basis for the transitional syn-
thetic methodology which we have presented in the first part
of this Conclusion. It is not the result of an intrinsically
superior age or of profounder methodological acumen in an
individual ; it can be only compared with less elaborate metho-
dologies in the light of historical development; and the distant
future should be regarded as evolving a far more highly per-
fected instrument of enquiry than ours is. Above all, our
analysis suggests that methods and methodologies are first and
foremost historical products, and that therefore evolutionary,
and not personal, considerations should primarily enter in any
appraisement of their adequacy.

§ 74. (b)1 A cognate study casts a flood of light on a
complementary aspect of profound methodological significance,
especially for our day. In § 5 we stressed the unity of nature
and life, and endeavoured to show how the domain of science
gradually widened until nothing appeared to be excluded there-
from, so much so that even "business" came to be compre-
hended by it, both on the side of bringing in science as an
auxiliary and of reorganising commerce and industry on a
scientific basis.

Not infrequently this successive, but often reluctant, admis-
sion into the charmed circle of the established sciences has
suggested the existence of a sheer struggle between those
within and those without that circle, those within appearing
to be animated by the- selfish motive of reserving for them-
selves the attendant privileges. Many a successful competitor
for this honour tends to regard his entry as a triumph over
unappreciative conservatism, and. the whole history of this
long process is often conceived as a forceful vindication of
justice against prejudice. However, here also it is objective
considerations which are the prime determining factors in the
struggle. Only as one science develops, does the possibility
arise of a slightly more complex science developing, and this
mode of addition to the established sciences continues through
the ages until from the simple science of mathematics we pro-
gress, by diverse well-marked stages, to the inclusion of the

1 The line of thought developed here was first suggested by an examina-
tion of the works of Professor Patrick Geddes.

SECTION 20.— STUDIES PREPARATORY TO ALL INVESTIGATIONS. 169

most complicated mental and social sciences. Not schools of
thought, theories, or the defeats of conservatives, explain there-
fore the expansion of the circle of the sciences, but primarily
the slow emergence and maturing of one science after another
in a necessarily strictly defined order.

The relative status of the sciences is also grounded in his-
toric advance. The more abstract and therefore simpler sciences
are ipso facto more firmly rooted than the less abstract and
more complex sciences, and possess consequently superior
authority. In time, however, biology, for instance, became
almost austerely scientific, and then it was no longer regarded
with suspicion. With the passing of a certain number of gene-
rations the same remark will come to be applicable to the
specio-psychic sciences, until all depreciatory comparisons be-
tween sciences will appear out of place.

It was thus the appreciable chaos which ruled down to a
few years ago in the practical life, that suggested to scholars
the theory that the man of science should keep to pure theory
and pure science, and not crave for the fleshpots of utilitarian
results. Repeatedly the student was reminded that he could
serve practical ends better by ignoring them, and that meddling
in the affairs of life advanced neither theory nor practice.
The progress of the simpler sciences and the synchronous
clarification of practical issues, slowly invalidated this concep-
tion of the relation of science to life. Hence it became in-
creasingly practicable for the man of science to devote atten-
tion to the life of action, until the distinction between science
and the practical life lost much of its point. No one can now
doubt that there is illimitable scope for the man of science in
industrial laboratories; that commerce and industry are tending
to become more and more scientific in procedure; that agri-
culture in almost all of its aspects is ceasing to be empirical,
and is guided at nearly every step by scientific considerations
and methods; and that even the more intimate life of health
and happiness, come under the control of science. These drastic
changes are not the result of changes in theory, but the out-
come of the historic growth and purification of experience,
which, in turn, is modifying older theories that confused transi-
tional stages with the abiding nature of science.

The law of relativity proceeds a step further in methodology.
The man of science was implored to attend closely to his
researches, and leave practical deductions severely alone. When
this view widely prevailed, that was excellent advice to give.
With the simpler sciences, however, becoming surer of their
ground, and the life of practice being better grasped, the danger
passed away. This, and this alone, justifies our own view,
whereon we have laid such stress, that practical deduction
should form an integral part of the process of investigation.
That is, what at one time was rightly regarded as hazardous, may

170 PART IV.— PREPARATORY STAGE.

now be conceived as a solemn duty. And, indubitably, the more
the theoretical and practical sciences will develop, the more
peremptory will be the methodological demand that he who
is well versed in theoretical science shall not fail to apply his
knowledge to improving life along the line of his studies. In
fact, we ought to be prepared for a somewhat startling develop-
ment resulting from the closer contact of science and life. We
mean that he who is primarily concerned with the life of
practice should, noblesse oblige, aim also, both incidentally and
systematically, at enriching the realm of theory. In this way
the concurrent development of science and practice will lead
to their rendering each other invaluable services and even-
tually coalescing.

We approach now another aspect. Division of labour was
one of the earliest phenomena characterising advance in civili-
sation. Almost all the ancient cultures possessed the caste
system. There was the ruling caste, the warrior caste, the
priestly caste, the merchant caste, and the labouring caste.
By such a division of labour, rigorously enforced, efficiency
in a number of directions was ensured. However, the desire
for increased efficiency led ultimately to the formation of
countless sub-castes or classes. Hence the classical economists
fondly dwelt on, and insistently counselled, the minutest sub-
division of labour. Consequently, the ideal appeared to them
that a factory should turn out, for instance, only needles, only
screws, and so on.

The process of scientific development followed the same lines.
Thinkers of the olden time, as among the ancient Greeks or
Hindoos, took all or most knowledge as their province. As,
however, the centuries passed, and material and difficulties
accumulated, division of labour was gradually introduced. This
process became in time more intensive. Single sciences divided
and sub-divided themselves, and the range of interest of men
of science assumed insignificant dimensions compared with that
of the earliest searchers after scientific truth. So manifold
and embarrassing appeared the objective difficulties that speciali-
sation was carried to the point of the investigator concerning
himself only with a microscopic portion of a subject. In this
way alone, it was held, could science securely advance. The
historic process, as above depicted, was its own justification,
since necessity was its cause.

Then the theory became popular that specialisation in science
was inevitable, and that save for specialisation, and the minutest
specialisation, there could be no advance in science. Reality,
it was contended, -was many-sided and full-blooded, and science
a pale, almost featureless, abstraction. Things were complex,
but science, it was asserted, could only recognise the separate
constituents of these complexes. Truth and scientific truth
were regarded as being poles asunder. Inasmuch, however,

SECTION 20.— STUDIES PREPARATORY TO ALL INVESTIGATIONS. 171

as the alternative was to know the separate constituents of
reality or nothing at all, the choice was not difficult for the
majority of thinkers, though some desired either to grasp reality
in its fulness or to abjure the search for truth altogether.

Yet here also we are dealing with a transitional state. The
immense ignorance compelled more and more minute division
of labour in science, and demanded virtually exclusive attention
to a narrowly circumscribed speciality. This was unfortunately
carried so far that in numberless cases hundreds of unconnected
and petty enquiries were conducted by individual men of science.
Against the continuance of this trend we have repeatedly pro-
tested in this volume, though even here the method was pro-
bably suggested at first by the impracticability in certain his-
toric stages of a subject, of doing more than just touching the
fringe of a small fringe of a general fact.

With the accumulation of organised data to a certain point,
extreme specialisation seemed to be inevitable ; but as the store
of important scientific material assumed ever more formidable
dimensions, a new methodological theory, widely diverging from
that prevalent a century ago, developed.

To begin with the practical life. The local trade union,
limited to one craft, entered into relations with similar unions
in adjacent localities. In the process it gained experience
sufficient to enable it to federate with other local unions, fur-
ther afield. New experiences gradually rendered it practicable
to form national and international unions. Tentative efforts
were also concurrently made to federate with cognate unions
and to form unions comprising a whole general branch of
industry until, once more with growth of experience, eventually
the whole of labour, professional, skilled, and unskilled, was
organised in unions, and these unions were welded into a
single national and, partly to anticipate, international federation.

Firms also profited by experience, and were thus enabled to
establish many scores of agencies and branches. Numerous
firms, interested in a certain speciality, amalgamated, until
maturing experience permitted all the firms of a country, and
even of several countries, who carried on a certain trade, to
form into one company. Such combines or trusts found it
advantageous to absorb auxiliary trades, with the result that
stupendous economic organisations came to be formed and
successfully conducted. Nor is this apparently the end of the
process. Increased knowledge of organisation has enabled com-
panies to manage numerous businesses having no special rela-
tions to one another, to establish factories where widely differ-
ing articles are produced, and to dot the country with "uni-
versal" stores selling almost every conceivable commodity and
ready to perform a multiplicity of other services.

With growth of experience, as we have seen, division of
labour tends almost, to disappear in the practical life. Tbis

1 72 PAR T IV.— PREP AR A TORY STA GE.

is also the case in the scientific sphere. Greater knowledge
enables the man of science to abandon mere flashes of enqui-
ries. It places him in a position to set himself comparatively
extended tasks. Much sifted knowledge being accessible, he
is enabled not only to study a whole subject, but, in doing
so, to profit by the conclusions reached in connected subjects.
Lastly, circumstances justify him frequently in dealing with a
series of allied subjects.

The antithesis between reality and scientific truth, between
specialisation and generalisation, is thus passing away. The
significance of this it is difficult to exaggerate. Fractional
studies seemed to be essentially irrational in a world of com-
plex realities. They were remote from life, and appeared to
yield little insight into the great facts of being and becoming.
The world of science seemed to form a universe of its own,
almost in challenging and crying contradiction with the world
of the senses and the reason. No wonder, then, that those of
little faith turned away from science in despair. Science is,
however, vindicating itself before the bar of history. The way
to reality lay through specialisation and through an intimate
knowledge of component facts, and once this was attained,
division of labour began to be more or less widely superseded
by comprehensive activities. For the far-off future, therefore,
narrow specialisation will only exist at the outskirts of the
world of knowledge, and large synthetic studies will be the
rule. Science will be then truly science and verily reflect
reality.

Already at the end of § 5 we had occasion to direct atten-
tion to the ponderous block of sound knowledge in existence
to-day. These blocks are being progressively more utilised. Is
it a question of diet? He who is interested in the subject
may take into account the principal and other dietetical con-
stituents of food and foods, the accessory food factors or
vitamines, the aeration of the blood, and the need of water-
all quantitatively and qualitatively considered, and allow for
age, season, profession, hour of day, breaks between meals,
etc. The problems of mastication, digestion, assimilation, and
rejection, with the connected problems of anatomy, physiology,
and growth, also temperament, serving and enjoying of food,
exercise and rest, general health of mind and body, habits,
cost, requirements of the community and of humanity, may
be all more or less definitely envisaged by the investigator.

Is it a question of agriculture? He who is concerned with
it may learn much pertaining to general and local climatology,
drainage and irrigation, plants and variety of plants suitable
for special soils, the best manures, means of countering insects
and germ pests, the most efficient labour and machinery needed,
the organisation desiderated for success, the demands of the
markets near and far, the advantages of co-operation, etc.

SUCTION 20— STUDIES PREPARATORY TO ALL INVESTIGATIONS. 173

Is it a question of town-planning? Local climate, geography,
geology, mineral wealth, configuration of district and town,
fauna and flora, surface soil, physical, economic, and other
relations of locality to neighbouring localities and nearest large
towns, building materials, roads, ventilation, heating, and light-
ing of buildings, water-supply, sanitation, hygiene, open spaces,
outdoor and indoor amusements, schools, public buildings,
churches, theatres and art institutions generally, industries and
commerce, past of town, customs and traditions of townsmen,
reconciliation of past and present ideals in town-planning—
almost all of these can be examined in a fairly scientific
spirit. '

In science in the narrower sense the same possibilities are
emerging. In studying such a subject as light, for instance,
not only can, besides special aspects, the entire field be covered,
but serious notice can be taken of the affiliated etheorological
or corpuscular sciences of heat, electricity, magnetism, radiation,
and even chemistry, without passing over the practical problems
of indoor and outdoor lighting. In this manner, much of the
crudity inseparable from earlier attempts can be successfully
avoided. So, too, the geologist may aim at being thorough,
taking effective note, primarily through the existence of a
number of somewhat highly developed sciences, not only of
the sheer spatial and chronological succession of rocks and
their component parts and contents, but of the factors respon-
sible for these — effects of gravity, pressure, heat and cold,
fire and frost, moisture and dessication, lightning, atmospheric
and water currents and water generally, chemical changes in
rocks, subsidence and raising of land, earthquakes, volcanoes,
and hot springs, age of the rocks, position and distribution of
strata on the globe, far-reaching climatic changes in the course
of the earth's history, plants and animals and their actions and
remains, human interference, and the like. In a similar way
the meteorologist very largely depends on a multitude of data
collected by sister sciences. The chemist also can study the
important mechanical, physical, crystallographic, and vital
aspects in connection with his department of knowledge. The
biologist, too, in striving to understand the nature of life and
of life forms, may call to his aid almost scores of passably
developed sciences. Lastly, in the future the various mental
and social sciences will be as readily and as profitably utilised
in education, aBsthetics, morals, religion, civics, and politics.
In any case, the day appears to have definitely arrived when
narrow specialisation, except in rare instances, is becoming a
grave offence against present-day methodological demands.

1 A brilliant example of town-planning may be found in Town Planning
towards City Development. A Report to the Durbar of Indore. 2 vols. 1918.
l>y Patrick Geddes.

174 PART IV.— PREPARATORY STAGE.

A good general illustration of this advance in science is
offered by descriptive works pertaining to countries. The
volume may open with a geographical, geological, and clima-
tological survey, and may describe the terrestrial and aquatic
fauna and flora. It may give an account of the races and
stocks inhabiting the country, and a brief history of the people,
with some reference to neighbouring countries. It may enlarge
on its mineral and forest wealth, on the productivity of the
land and the nature of its crops, on the utilisation of pastures,
and on its principal trades. It may speak in precise terms of
its political constitution, its laws, its army, navy, and air force,
its local administrations and local activities, its family life, its
educational system, art, science, religion, and recreation. It may
furnish vital statistics, statistics of commerce, industry, and
finance, and of agriculture, forestry, and live stock ; and afford,
in a word, a tolerably correct general picture of the organisation
and of the life of the men, women, and children inhabiting the
country. Two centuries ago such a comprehensive statement,
if attempted, would have proved a tissue of fantastic guesses
and misinterpretations.

We are doubtless only at the threshold of the synthetic or
realistic age. For this reason, with the encouragement must
go a warning. In proportion as there has been little speciali-
sation, as generally in the mental and social sciences, synthetic
procedure is non-scientific if not anti-scientific, and therefore
only in proportion as there are scientifically sifted facts and
generalisations, are we justified in having recourse to the
synthetic method. Mere logical webs, constructed out of com-
monsense knowledge and shrewd surmises, are strangers to
science.

Growth through the ages is responsible for the diverse stages
of science and its method, as observed from various historic
angles. It is primarily a process of objective evolution. Neces-
sarily therefore the single individual is scarcely more than a
mirror of his age, and his theories, couched generally in finalistic
phraseology, constitute roughly only a valid defence of the
scientific status quo. A dynamic conception of scientific ad-
vance should prove an effectual solvent of many long-standing
controversies, and enable us to discern, and take advantage of,
the direction in which science and methodology are moving.

CONCLUSION 3.

Need of Fixing Methodologically the General Nature and Re-
lations of Phenomena.

§ 75. Having ascertained that an enquiry should be conducted
in conformity with methodological canons, and having decided
that these canons form a synthetically connected unity, we

SECTION 20— STUDIES PREPARATORY TO ALL INVESTIGATIONS. 175

shall now proceed to state the most general nature of the facts
to be examined. We might have simplified our task by merely
enumerating for this purpose Aristotle's Categories — Substantia,
Quantitas, Qualitas, Relatio, Actio, Passio, Ubi, Quando, Situs,
and Habitus;1 but his list of predicaments unfortunately no
longer satisfies scientific requirements. Consequently, we have
ventured to submit new lists of categories which, however, lay
no claim to completeness or finality. To have neglected this
delicate and responsible task altogether because of the difficulty
involved in its adequate execution, would have left a gaping
void in the methodological scheme propounded in this volume.

I.— INTRODUCTORY CATEGORY.

§ 76. We might say that the object of any enquiry is always
to determine the partial or total nature, and sometimes relations,
of a fact. A fact, again, we might define comprehensively as
a given or stated partial (e.g., portion of individual), single
(e.g., individual as a whole), collective (e.g., aggregations of
individual to species), grouped (e.g., beyond species, and in-
cluding larger wholes such as a science, or a group or groups
of sciences, to cosmology and the universe), or abstracted
(whiteness, etc.), physical or other something (i.e., anything
which partially or wholly exists, is coming into, or going out
of, existence, has existed, will, might, could, would, should, or
is believed, alleged, or feigned to, exist, or the contrary).
Liberally interpreted in this way, room is probably provided
for most orders of fact which obtrude themselves on the in-
telligence, and assistance is thus afforded in the most elementary
forms of classification.

II.— PRIMARY CATEGORIES.

§ 77. The Primary Categories may be profitably divided
into three main sections, and may be said to aim at indicating
and helping to ascertain the general nature and relations of
phenomena to be determined in an enquiry :

(1) Material Aspects J

(2) Modal Aspects J of a phenomenon investigated.

(3) Procedure Aspects J

(1) MATERIAL ASPECTS.— The material aspects practically
include the bare facts alone, irrespective of anything measur-
able or changeable.

1 According to Mill "all the assertions which can be conveyed by language
express some one or more of five different things: Existence; Order in place;
Order in Time; Causation; and Resemblance. Of these, Causation, in our
view of the subject, not being fundamentally different from Order in Time,
the five species of possible assertions are reduced to four." (Logic, bk. 3,
ctt. 24, § 1.)

176 PART IV.— PREPARATORY STAGE.

We classify them as follows:—

1. Elementals of phenomenon

2. Constituents „

3. Form „ ungeneralised phenomenon.

4. Dependence „

5. Action „

6. Cause p

7. Resemblances of phenomenon j

8. Classification „ > phenomenon classed.

9. Position „ J

10. Differentia of phenomenon \ henomenon defined>

11. Details „ I *

12. Value of phenomenon j

14. Appreciation „

15. Description of phenomenon J description of phenomenon.

This skeleton does not, however, offer its own explanation.
We shall therefore develop each of the sub-sections:—

A. — Material Aspects of Phenomenon Investigated:—

1. ELEMENTALS, or Precise fundamental sensory and other mental data
sought for in physical or mental investigations: (a) vision: light — colour —
shade— transparency— picture— appearance; (b) touch and effort: softness-
smoothness — evenness— cohesion — plasticity— flexibility — malleability, con-
figuration — texture, gravity — weight — pressure — resistance, attraction-
repulsion, fluid— liquid — viscid — solid; (c) hearing: sounds— noise — har-
mony; (d) taste; (e) smell; (f) heat; (g) feeling: pain — pleasure — appetite-
desire— mood — excitement — emotion— sentiment; (h) volition: impulse —
habit— decision — willing— action ; (/') intelligence: observation — memory —
imagination — reasoning— judgment — reflection; and (j) indirectly appre-
hensible: causes of heat, electricity, magnetism, etc., and unconscious
cerebration ;

2. CONSTITUENTS, or Precise static and dynamic, largest to smallest,
constituents, including ether, elements, compounds, minerals, vital con-
stituents, materials, and parts, and their precise disposition, connection,
interdependence, and relative homogeneity or heterogeneity;

3. FORM, or Precise form, shape, outline, design, of wholes, parts,
sub-parts, etc., and their precise disposition, connection, interdependence,
and relative homogeneity or heterogeneity;

4. DEPENDENCE, or Precise special facts and factors in the environ-
ment on which the phenomenon is more or less dependent (e.g., tree's
dependence on soil, atmosphere, and external temperature) ;

5. ACTION, or Precise action or effects of phenomenon;

6. CAUSE, or Precise cause or causes of the existence and properties
of phenomenon;

7. RESEMBLANCES, or Precise leading, major, and minor individual,
class, and other resemblances of phenomenon or phenomena (for forming
classes and schematic scale of classes);

SKCTION 20— STUDIES PREPARATORY TO ALL INVESTIGATIONS. 177

8. CLASSIFICATION, or Precise methodical classification of the pheno-
mena observed, and placing the classes thus formed under a more com-
prehensive category;

9. POSITION, or Precise comparative position of phenomenon within
class or classes, and precise comparison of the parts of related wholes ;

10. DIFFERENTIA, or Precise leading, major, and minor individual,
class, and other differentiae of phenomenon (the ascertainment of the
leading differentiae is the primary object of most investigations) ;

11. DETAILS, or Precise secondary aspects or details of phenomenon
of interest in the enquiry;

12. VALUE, or Precise value and quality (hygienic, economic, moral,
aesthetic, philosophical, scientific, . . .) of phenomenon ;

13. UTILISATION, or Precise utilisation, application, and reproduction
of phenomenon in all spheres of life;

14. APPRECIATION, or Precise appreciation (desire, liking, preference,
love, and enjoyment, and their opposites) of phenomenon;

15. DESCRIPTION, or Precise nomenclature, terminology, definitions,
formulas, statements, tables, diagrams, and reports in connection with
the phenomenon.

Compressed, and evidently incomplete, as the immediately
preceding statements are, they ought nevertheless to throw a
blaze of light on the path which the investigator has resolved
to travel on. They should second him in the arduous task of
ascertaining everything material to his enquiry and of prevent-
ing his overlooking anything of moment. At present short-
sighted tradition and fumbling practice are his guides, supple-
mented by his own narrow experience and the imperfect criti-
cisms of others. However, such subserviency to the mercy of
chance is to be deprecated. Methodological pioneers should
have preceded him and made his progress as rapid as circum-
stances permitted. It is the very essence of cultural advance
that the obscure shall be illuminated, and that established facts
and methods shall be collected, methodised, and placed within
the easy reach of all. Nor does the tentativeness of the list
prepared seriously matter, for the inquirer must be expected
to expand and supplement the statements, as far at least as
his subject of enquiry is concerned.

(2) MODAL ASPECTS.— Slightly arbitrary as any division
must be, it may nevertheless lay claim to certain advantages.
This apparently applies to the division of the Primary Cate-
gories into Material and Modal Aspects, for it enables us to
separate what is mainly material from what is mainly modal.
The Modal Aspects are:—

1. Quantity.

2. Time.

3. Space.

4. Consciousness.

5. Degree.

6. State.

7. Change.

8. Personal Equation.

12

178 PART IV.— PREPARATORY STAGE.

These eight aspects may be profitably developed as here-
under :

B.— Modal Aspects of Phenomenon Investigated:—

1. Quantity (precise number— magnitude — calculation . . .);

2. Time (precise position and distribution in time, precedence— suc-
cession, number of times, dawn— day — twilight— night, seasons, past-
present— future, duration— age— date, frequency— periodicity, rapidity-
slowness, velocity— acceleration — retardation, chronological measurement
and chronological calculation generally);

3. Space (precise position and distribution in space, before— behind —
juxtaposition — direction, magnitude, number, height— depth— breadth,
length — distance, angle, degree, longitude — latitude, compass points, metri-
cal and other measurements and calculation generally);

4. Consciousness (precise position and distribution in consciousness,
precedence — succession, magnitude, number, vividness— completeness-
durability, movement— changes, and resemblance in these respects of
recalled phenomenon to phenomenon recalled, chronological, comparative,
and other measurements, and calculation generally);

5. Degree (precise degree of Material, Modal, and Procedure Aspects,
of mathematical, etheorological, mechanical, physical, chemical, crystallo-
graphical, vital, sensory, psychological, social, specio-psychic, and other
properties and relations of a static or dynamic character, and of resem-
blance, difference, dependence, interdependence, and other relations and
interrelations, quantitatively stated where possible);

6. State (precise pure, average, casual, momentary, time-produced,
environment-produced, individual, transitional, exceptional, abnormal,
perfect, imperfect, and . . . state);

7. Change (precise movement— activity— process, from commencement
of change to its end, external and non-external influences, fertilisation —
kariokynesis — prenatal development — birth— growth — adaptation— regene-
ration—reproduction— senescence— death— decomposition, evolution— origin-
history — development — transformation or dissolution and further evolution,
improvement — deterioration, production*- accumulation — distribution— ex-
change—consumption, experiencing— feeling — reasoning — concluding, auto-
matic—reflex — impulsive — habitual — deliberate action, and ways of living
and their formation and change . . .); and

8. Personal Equation (precise degree of more or less complete interest-
preparedness — liberty— opportunity, of possessing stranger's freshness in
viewing and weighing own facts and conclusions, and of more or less
permanent individuality, abnormality, unclearness — ignorance — error —
prejudice — deception, and . . .).

Manifestly our remarks regarding the value for the inquirer
of the Material Aspects, apply with equal cogency to the Modal
Aspects.

(3) PROCEDURE ASPECTS. -The justification for the in-
clusion of these in the Primary Categories is chiefly practical.
They are manifestly a mere selection, as the subsequent Con-
clusions will show. Nevertheless it is well to concentrate atten-
tion right at the commencement on certain methodological master
modes of procedure. Since the statements either explain them-

SECTION 20.-STUDIES PREPARATORY TO ALL INVESTIGATIONS. 179

selves or are explained later, it will suffice to submit them
without comment in this place. They are:—

C. — Procedure Aspects of Phenomenon Investigated:—

1. Precise determination of the problem under investigation. (Conclu-
sion 14.)

2. Accurate, minute, and, if possible, experimental examination, under
the most varied conditions of space, time, and other circumstances, and
immediate and scrupulous recording of results. (Conclusions 16, 18.)

3. Alertness, in order not to miss obscure, unobtrusive, and exceptional
facts. (Conclusion 21.)

4. Systematic exhaustion, plus simple case and testing of divisions.
(Conclusions 19, 20, 17.)

5. Degree-determination and dialectics. (Conclusions 27, 28.)

6. Luminous clearness and decided definiteness in thinking. (Conclu-
sion 15.)

7. Graded, comprehensive, important, numerous, full, rational and
relevant, original, automatically initiated, and methodically developed
generalisations, deductions, and applications. (Conclusions 25, 31, 32.)

8. Systematic verification, classification, balanced interim and final
statements, and lucid reports. (Conclusions 29, 33, 30, 34, 35.)1

1 Originally it was contemplated that the Primary Categories should be
followed by Secondary Categories which should offer a conspectus of the
methods to be applied in investigations. This intention was finally abandoned
because of the danger involved in abbreviated statements. However, it may
not be amiss to print the original draft in a footnote, if only because the draft
is suggestive and has been utilised here and there in this treatise.

Secondary Categories.

(a) PURPOSE. — State what is the precise object of the enquiry, and roughly
define the meaning of this object and the chief terms employed.

(b) EXISTENCE. — Examine whether the alleged phenomenon exists at all
(e.g., men having tails), or whether its existence is relatively doubtful (e.g.,
normal case) or relatively indubitable (e.g., human beings having eyes).

(c) INDEPENDENCE. — Examine whether the alleged phenomenon is wholly
or partly unique (e.g., elephant's trunk), or to what degree it may be part
of a more comprehensive phenomenon (e.g., the ethical term Ought), or
composed of various (e.g., popular conception of grass or of a cold) or varying
(e.g., law, religion, or living according to nature) phenomena, or entering
largely or otherwise into other or all phenomena (e.g.. human equation).

(d) INTERRELATION. — Examine the degree of the phenomenon's depend-
ence on preceding and co-existing, conditioning of co-existing and suc-
ceeding, or other relation to preceding, co-existing, and succeeding pheno-
mena of an identical or non-identical character (e.g., the digestive process).

(e) EXTREMES. — Examine the phenomenon, from its one or more minimal,
through its one or more perfect or normal, to its one or more maximal
stages, for the purpose of determining its various phases (e.g., history of
civilisation).

(/) DEGREE. — Examine whether differences of degree relating to any aspect
make any fundamental or what difference to the conception of the pheno-
menon and whether the phenomenon is related to other phenomena by a
chain of degrees (e.g., the evolution of species or of the solar system).

(g) EXPERIMENT.— Examine, by gradually eliminating and also adding,
one by one and also in groups and in differing quantities, the alleged static
and dynamic constituents of the phenomenon, in order to determine the
real constituents (e.g., in chemistry). •

12*

180 PART IV. -PREPARATORY STAGE.

Conclusion 17 will complete our statement concerning the
general nature and relations of phenomena by dealing with
the subtle problem of the mode of determining what are, and
what are not, primary static and dynamic facts.

CONCLUSION 4.
Need of a Life-Time Object of Enquiry.

§ 78. Considering the full statement of the general problem
of methodology presented in Section XIX, and the thirty-two
Conclusions which succeed this one, it is only necessary to
offer the briefest account of the nature of the problem with
which this Conclusion is concerned.

The wider object of science is to determine the most general
facts or laws of nature by methods likely to achieve this end
conveniently, rapidly, and satisfactorily. According to circum-
stances, an inquirer may select one or another field of study,
and pursue his investigations for a shorter or a longer period.
Leaving sundry accidental alternatives on one side and only
contemplating the ideal norm, we may say that the fully
equipped inquirer should propose to himself as weighty a problem
as a life-time of endeavour (say — intermittently or uninter-
mittently — twenty-five years of ardent devotion) may reason-
ably be expected to promote substantially. From Conclusion 5,
it will transpire what are the general limitations, and from Con-
clusion 25 c why one comprehensive problem only, rather than
many minor ones, should be selected for examination.

In regard to the particular question to be elucidated, no
guidance can be offered save that by preference one of the
many salient problems of the age should be attacked (§ 167),

(h) MODALITY.— Examine, stage by stage, or continuously, the pheno-
menon's modal aspects, according to the second table of Primary Categories.

(0 DIALECTICS.— Examine, following Conclusions 27 and 28, for facts pos-
sibly contradictory, contrary, opposite, etc., to those alleged to have been
established in or between wholes and parts of wholes (e.g., are men born
good?).

(j) COMPARISON.— Examine the phenomenon under profusely varied
conditions of space, time, and other circumstances, including phenomena
most similar and most dissimilar both as regards wholes, parts, and degree
(e.g., race superiority).

(k) RELATIONS. — Examine the degree of the phenomenon's relations to
the science immediately in question and its applications, to the sciences
immediately related to that science, to the more remotely related sciences,
to the sciences and arts generally, and to the specio-psy chic sciences and
their corresponding practical activities (e.g., some aesthetic problem).

(/) STATEMENT.— Examine the degree of the phenomenon's relation to
closely, less closely, and distantly connected phenomena in order to reach
the most relevant general statement (e.g., the sense of sight), and furnish,
after the fullest investigation, the tersest, most lucid, most definite, and
most comprehensive statement practicable of the peculiar nature of the
phenomenon, both as regards theory and practice, which approaches com-
plete exactness, and is offered as far as possible in mathematical form.

SECTION 20.— STUDIES PREPARATORY TO ALL INVESTIGATIONS. 181

since sufficient general progress has been made to permit the
inquirer to pass down almost every great avenue of thought and
life — from mathematics to politics. Perhaps a day may arrive
when an international academy, having the progress of science
in trust and at heart, will sketch, without prescribing, the chan-
nels in which research at any period can be most profitably
directed, and may coordinate the labours undertaken collec-
tively or individually. In our day, and probably for some appre-
ciable time to come, this has to be left almost altogether to
hazard (Conclusion 12), and nothing can be done except to urge
that an important enquiry should be only initiated after ade-
quately considering the general contemporary condition of
science, and the predilection, preparedness, opportunities, and
resources of the inquirer (§ 86).

CONCLUSION 5.
Need of a Simple Starting-Point.

§ 79. This is a Conclusion the practical importance of which
can scarcely be exaggerated. Its principal object is to emphasise
the historical and pan-human nature of truth, and to warn
against precipitate attempts at reaching conclusions prematurely.
Bacon desired to make all knowledge his province; Descartes
contemplated the same end ; and philosophers, generally speak-
ing, have often evinced no adequate appreciation of the mea-
sured growth of truth through the ages. The question, then,
raised by this Conclusion is When may we legitimately institute
an investigation? Shall we begin with the simplest facts or
with the most complex ones ? Shall we take up problems where
others have left them, or shall we disregard the efforts of
others? Or does the starting-point not matter?

In Section IV we learnt that in spite of the fact that men
had always attempted to resolve problems of every grade of
intricacy, and preferably the more intricate ones, the history
of science unmistakably evidences that all endeavours to grapple
with the more intricate problems before the simpler ones, have,
without exception, issued hitherto in failure, and that the body
of scientific knowledge has historically grown from the simple
to the complex.1 The conclusion is therefore irresistible that
any breaking loose from organic succession with past scientific

1 This determinate sequence is well expressed by Henry Balfour, in the
Introduction to a work by A. Lane-Fox Pitt-Rivers, on the Evolution of
Culture, 1906. "Every form [in cultural products] marks its own place in
sequence by its relative complexity or affinity to other allied forms, in the
same manner that every word in the science of language has a place as-
signed to it in the order of development or phonetic decay." (P. 12.) "Pro-
gress is like a game of dominoes— like fits on to like. In neither case can
we tell beforehand what will be the ultimate figure produced by the ad-
hesions; all we know is that the fundamental rule of the game is sequence."
(P. 19.)

182 PART IV. -PREPARATORY STAGE.

thought will avenge itself, and that we should not commence
an investigation where the simpler facts are as yet unexplored,
unless indeed we set ourselves the task of ascertaining the
simpler facts. Elementary mathematics, concerned as it is with
idealised facts of the most primitive order was therefore the
first science, and cosmology, as the science of sciences, will,
because of its stupendous complexity, be the last. The latter
depends on the triumph of the physical, as well as of the bio-
logical and cultural, sciences, and since all, save the first, are
in their childhood, philosophers must yet for a long time wander
in the wilderness.

If Darwin had not had at his disposal the socially collected
facts relating to geology, paleontology,1 zoological and botanical
morphology and physiology, embryology, the geographical dis-
tribution of animals and plants, and domestic breeding, and
still had pressed on the attention of the public his theory of
natural selection, he would have been an idle dreamer, and
not the honoured man of science he was. However, the as-
sistance lent to Darwin went even further. The evolution
theory had been popularised by Buffon, Lamarck, and Geoffrey
St.-Hilaire in France, and by Erasmus Darwin, Lyell, Chambers,-
Herbert Spencer, and sundry others, in England; the curious
tale told by the rocks forced biologists to speculate concerning
the genesis of species, and the principal dynamic fact in
Darwin's theory was supplied by Malthus.:! A close historic
survey would probably reveal that Darwin's conception was in
the air and would have developed irrespectively of him, as is
in reality illustrated by Alfred Russell Wallace arriving inde-
pendently, and about the same time, at the same conclusion.
In 1851 the Outlines of Comparative Physiology touching the
structure and development of the races of animals living and
extinct, by Louis Agassiz, appeared in a second edition. In
this work, itself the development of an earlier one, the last
chapter terminates with a series of conclusions, whereof the

1 "Since The Origin of Species was written, our knowledge of this record
has been enormously extended, and we now possess, not complete volumes,
it is true, but some remarkably full and illuminating chapters." (W. B. Scott,
Chapter on "The Palseontological Record [I. Animals]," in Darwin and Modern
Science, ed. by A. C. Seward, 1909.)

2 "Chambers himself only gave unity to thoughts already in wide cir-
culation." (Quoted from A. W. Benn, by A. C. Haddon, History of Anthro-
pology, p. 61.)

"Darwin's great achievement was to formulate this law; though it is
only fair to add that it was discovered by A. R. Wallace at the same
moment. Both of them got the first hint of it from Malthus." (R. R. Marett,
Anthropology, p. 69.) The theories of both Malthus and Darwin, again, were
reflections or expressions of the competitive spirit in social affairs prevalent
in their time. (See G. Papillault, in Le progres, 1913.) This method of
tracing the origin of ideas to other than logical or speculative sources is
admirably illustrated in those works of Rudolf Eucken which deal with the
history of philosophj-.

SKCTION 20. —STUDIES PREPARATORY TO ALL INVESTIGATIONS. 183

first one is highly significant for our purpose: "From the above
sketch it is evident that there is a manifest progress in the
succession of beings on the surface of the earth. This progress
consists in an increasing similarity to the living fauna, and
among the vertebrata, especially, in their increasing resemblance
to man." (P. 417.) Sir John Herschel had, by 1830, adum-
brated Agassiz's conclusion which evidently demanded a natural-
istic explanation. He speaks of "a series of periods of un-
known duration, in which both land and sea teemed with forms
of animal and vegetable life, which have successively dis-
appeared and given place to others, and these again to new races
approximating gradually more and more nearly ' to those which
now inhabit them, and at length comprehending species which
have their counterparts existing". (Discourse, [316.].) In 1887
Grant Allen wrote a propos of this subject: "The species that
bear most closely upon the theory of organic evolution are
almost all of them quite recent additions to our stock of know-
ledge. The gorilla appeared on the scene at the critical moment
for The Descent of Man. Just on the stroke when they were
most needed, connecting links, both fossil and living, turned
up in abundance between fish and amphibians, amphibians and
reptiles, reptiles and birds, birds and mammals, and all of these
together in a perfect network of curious cross-relationships.
Lizards that were almost crows, marsupials that were almost
ostriches, insectivores that were almost bats, rodents that were
almost monkeys, have come at the very nick of time to prove
the truth of descent with modification." (The Fortnightly
Review, June, 1887, p. 882.)1

In the matter of observation, therefore, the succeeding Con-
clusions would offer fatuous suggestions if this Conclusion
were not respected. If Darwin's time had been as ignorant of
geology and of the other sciences adverted to above, as the
times of Erasmus Darwin and of Lamarck were, the subject
of the origin of species would have been enveloped in such
obscurity that Darwin could have made no sensible progress
in unpicking the knot of facts. He would have struggled in
vain to develop half-a-dozen intricate sciences to serve as his
point of departure, and very likely he would have finished by
accomplishing just something in one science or another, never
coming even within hailing distance of the solution of the
problem he was interested in, and never being regarded as a
man of surpassing genius.

Moreover, in the light of fifty years of post-Darwinism, we
can more justly appraise Darwin's contribution. We thus learn
of numerous radical criticisms of his theory. It is said that
we ought to speak of a struggle for comfort rather than of a

1 For a further statement of pre-Darwinism, the reader is referred to the
author's forthcoming work, The Distinctive Nature of Man, ch. 9.

184 PART IV.— PREPARATORY STAGE.

struggle for existence; that affection and mutual aid occupy a
prominent place in the development process ; that evolutionary
progress is "essentially through the subordination of individual
struggle and development to species-maintaining ends" (Geddes);
that acquired characteristics are not inherited ; and that human
progress is cultural and not biological. Finally, the Mendelians
are furnishing certain reasons for surmising that many so-called
variations are post-natal and are not inherited ; that true varia-
tions are frequently due to a re-shuffling of unit characters;
that variations are more likely to be sudden, large, and definite,
than slow, small, and intermediate in form; and that other
factors, besides the natural selection of favourable variations,
require to be considered in accounting for the evolution of
living forms.1 Hence it transpires that Darwin effected little
more than to marshal in a persuasive form the evidence in
favour of the theory that the variety of living forms is intimately
related, and that natural forces could be conceived explaining
the metamorphosis of species.2 This case eloquently illustrates
the folly of tracing world-moving ideas to the fortuitous dis-
covery of some preternaturally endowed individual.

In conformity with this Conclusion, then, the scientific worker
should seek to extend some particular field of labour, or, if he
inaugurates some new science, it should not be one which
depends materially on other not yet developed sciences. In
any case, he would not think of investigating a problem where
the facts are at once decidedly complicated and very imperfectly
known to men of science. It may be said that the order of
fruitful investigation is the order of the sciences as commonly
classified at the present day, beginning somewhere with mathe-
matics and terminating somewhere with applied ethics.

We might epitomise the Conclusion in the following rule:
"In initiating an enquiry, begin with what is scientifically deter-
mined; but if nothing relevant is thus determined, ascertain
the commencement of the simplest relevant elements, and pro-
ceed thence in a forward direction, unless the beginnings lie far
back or are complicated, in which case abandon the enquiry."
In connection with this rule these two sub-rules may prove
useful: (a) "Only that is to be regarded as well-ascertained
which has been investigated and tested scientifically." (b) "All
commonly accepted statements, not the outcome of scientific

1 Two of the leading modern works on organic evolution are E. Weismann.
The Evolution Theory, 1904, which aims at disproving the inheritance of
acquired characteristics, and Hugo de Vries, The Mutation Theory, 1910-1911,
which argues in favour of sudden, large, and definite organic variations.
Bateson's Mendel's Principles of Heredity, 1909, ably expounds and develops
the new principles of heredity.

"The commanding superiority and wide scientific influence of Darwin
among naturalists are of course popularly, though groundlessly, associated
with the origin instead of the final popularisation of the conception of
descent." (Article "Biology", in Chambers' Encyclopaedia, 1908.)

SECTION 20.— STUDIES PREPARATORY TO ALL INVESTIGATIONS. 185

research, are, at best, true and useful for practical purposes
only."1

The fundamental thought incorporated in this Conclusion
should even guide those who are desirous of acquiring a know-
ledge of the sciences. As Comte points out: "Physicists who
have not first studied Astronomy, at least under its general
aspect; chemists who, before applying themselves to their special
science, have not previously studied Astronomy and then Physics;
physiologists who have not prepared themselves for their special
labours by a preliminary study of Astronomy, Physics, and
Chemistry: all these lack one of the fundamental conditions of
their intellectual development. This is still more evident in the
case of students who wish' to devote themselves to the positive
study of Social phenomena, without having in the first place
acquired a general knowledge of Astronomy, Physics, Chemistry,
and Physiology." (The Fundamental Principles, etc., p. 59.)
Truly, as we have seen, all the sciences, arts, and crafts grow
to be intimately and organically connected.2

CONCLUSION 6.
Need of Shunning Vagueness and Over-Subtlety in an Enquiry.

§ 80. Every attempt to fasten in haste on an observation,
or for the matter of that on a proposition, and lose oneself
therein, is fatal to rapid progress. Where, therefore, a problem is
not definite in character, it should be approached and attacked
from a score of points, and rather than plunge into subtleties*
the problem, as in craniology,3 for instance, should be waived

1 "Words, being commonly framed and applied according to the capacity
of the vulgar, follow those lines of division which are most obvious to the
vulgar understanding. And whenever an understanding of greater acuteness
or a more diligent observation would alter those lines to suit the true
divisions of nature, words stand in the way and resist the change." (Bacon,
Novum Organum, bk. 1, 59.) "The rational school of philosophers snatches
from experience a variety of common instances, neither duly ascertained
nor diligently examined and weighed, and leaves all the rest to meditation
and agitation of wit." (Ibid., bk. 1, 62.)

2 On reflection, it will become evident that an astronomer who is ignorant
of everything except astronomy, is likely to make grave mistakes as a con-
sequence. The recently developed problems relating to astro-physics, astro-
chemistry, and what one may call astro-biology, illustrate this. In addition,
the question of the personal equation including health, and that of compre-
hending others and communicating to them intelligibly his researches, involve
a corresponding knowledge of biology and specio-physics. We may proceed
even further, and point out the need, not only of the astronomer being
initiated into the mysteries of the life of practice, but of the practical man
and the artist not being neophytes in the domain of science. In fine, sober
thought suggests that every man, whatever his speciality, should be highly
cultured in the fullest sense of the word.

3 The following quotation from Dr. A. C. Haddon's History of Anthropology,
1910, well illustrates to what length uncontrolled specialism leads: "Dr.Hagen

186 PART IV.— PREPARATORY STAGE.

for a time or its solution abandoned altogether. Or it may be
allowed to stand admittedly imperfect, for time is precious and
subtlety is the thief of time. Most likely, as the general prob-
lem approaches solution, the special problem will also be
clarified. Subtlety is the complement of reckless generalisation,
and ends in hair-splitting and in deeper subtleties. Of course,
the implication here is that we are treating of the separate
aspects of a larger problem rather than of the larger problem
itself. The problem should not, naturally, be left shrouded in
anything like complete doubt at the end of the enquiry. It is
interesting and important to notice in this connection that
Aristotle's works almost remind us of note-books where, on the
basis of personal and relatively unbiassed study, conclusions

relates the extreme specialisation into which craniologists were led : 'A rage
for skull measurements, vast, vigorous, and heedless, set in on all sides,
especially after Lucae had discovered and perfected a method of accurately
representing the irregular form of the object studied. More skulls, was
henceforth the war-cry; the trunk, extremities, soft tissues, skin and hair,
might all go by the board, being counted of no scientific value whatever,
Anthropologists, or those who aspired to the title, measured and delineated
skulls; museums became veritable cities of skulls, and the reputation of a
scientific traveller almost stood or fell with the number of crania which he
brought back with him.

'After two decades of measuring and collecting ever greater quantities of
material from foreign lands, and from the so-called primitive or aboriginal
races, the inadequacy of Retzius's method became apparent. Far too many
intermediate forms were met with, which it was found absolutely impossible
to classify by its means. In accordance with the suggestion of the French
anthropologist Broca, and of Welcker, Professor of Anatomy at Halle, a third
type, the so-called Mesocephalic form, was interposed between the two forms
recognised by Retzius. Even this did not suffice, however. In the face of
the infinite variety of form of the crania now massed together, a variety
only comparable to that of leaves in a forest, this primitively simple scheme,
with its four and finally six types, failed through lack of elasticity. Then
began complication extending ever further and further. Attention was no
longer confined to the, length and breadth, but also to the height of the
cranium, high and low (or flat) skulls — i.e., hypsicephalic and chamsecephalic
varieties being recognised. The facial part of the skull was examined not
only from the side, with a view to recording the straightness or obliquity
of the profile, but also from the front; and there were thus distinguished
long, medium, and short faces, and also broad and narrow facial types. The
nasal skeleton, the palate, the orbit, the teeth, and the mandible were investi-
gated in turn, and at last all the individual bones of the cranium and face,
their irregularities of outline, and their relations to one another, were sub-
jected to the closest examination and most subtle measurements, with in-
struments of extreme delicacy of construction and ingenuity of design, till,
finally, the trifling number of five thousand measurements for every skull
found an advocate in the person of the Hungarian Professor v. Torok (whereby
the wealth of detail obscured the main objects of study); while, on the other
hand, observers deviated into scientific jugglery, like that of the Italian
Professor Sergi, who contrived to recognise within the limits of a single
small archipelago, the D'Entrecasteaux group of islets near New Guinea, as
many as eleven cranial varieties, which were all distinguished by high-
sounding descriptive names, such as Lophocephalus brachyclitometopusi etc.'

"The misuse of Craniometry is also described by Professor Alexander
Macalister: 'Despite all the labour that has been bestowed on the subject

SECTION 20.— STUDIES PREPARATORY TO ALL INVESTIGATIONS. 187

only, and those original and important ones, are jotted down
in large numbers, practically to the point of not overlooking
any.1 This method well illustrates the difference between ex-
haustion and subtlety.

It should be also borne in mind that, as we proceed in an
enquiry, the dubious items will be either corrected or may
prove relatively unimportant or irrelevant. Hence it would be
unpardonable to pursue everything forthwith into the realm of
the infinite, and there is scarcely any danger that we shall do
this when numerous important and well-defined generalisations
are the object of our quest. Subtlety, particularly in the
cultural sciences, is frequently the cause that no general survey
of a problem is undertaken, that only one or a few general
conclusions of a somewhat indifferent character are arrived at,

craniometric literature is at present as unsatisfactory as it is dull. Hitherto
observations have been concentrated on cranial measurements as methods
for the discrimination of the skulls of different races. Scores of lines, arcs,
chords, and indexes have been devised for this purpose, and the diagnosis
of skulls has been attempted by a process as mechanical as that whereby
we identify certain issues of postage-stamps by counting the nicks in the
margin. But there is underlying all these no unifying hypothesis; so that
when we, in our sesquipedalian jargon, describe an Australian skull as
microcephalic, phaenozygous, tapeinodolichocephalic, prognathic, platyrhine,
hypselo-palatine, leptostaphyline, dolichuranic, chamaBprosopic, and micro-
seme, we are no nearer to the formulation of any philosophic concept of
the general principles which have led to the assumption of these characters
by the cranium in question, and we are forced to echo the apostrophe of
von T6rOk, Vanity, thy name is Craniology!'." (Pp. 40-42.)

Only recently have attempts been made to study the relation of the
cephalic index to the environment, with striking results. Prof. Franz Boas,
of Columbia University, conducted an enquiry into this question on behalf
of the United States Government, and the following is his startling conclusion :
"The investigation of a large number of families has shown that every single
measurement that has been studied has one value among individuals born
in Europe, another one among individuals of the same families born in
America. Thus, among the East European Jews, the head of the European-
born is shorter than the head of the American-born. It is wider among
the European-born than it is among the American-born. At the same time
the American-born is taller. As a result of the increase in the growth of
head, and decrease of the width of head, the length-breadth index is con-
siderably less than the corresponding index in the European-born. All these
differences seem to increase with the time elapsed between the emigration
of the parents and the birth of the child, and are much more marked in
the second generation of American-born individuals. . . . The old idea of
absolute stability of human types must evidently be given up, and with it
the belief of the hereditary superiority of certain types over others."
(Inter-Racial Problems, pp. 101, 103, edited by G. Spiller.)

1 Aristotle's "vast works in natural history were based mainly on what
he considered of primary importance — facts of actual personal knowledge
derived from personal observation. On this account alone his writings
deserved the place which they held for many centuries." (A. C. Haddon,
History of Anthropology, p. 14.) According to Sir Edward Thorpe, "Aristotle
affirmed that natural science can only be founded upon a knowledge of facts,
and facts can only be ascertained through observation and experiment."
(History of Chemistry, 1914, vol. 1, p. 19.) On Aristotle's method, see also
F. W. Westaway, Scientific Method, its Philosophy and its Practice, 1912.

188 PART IV.— PREPARATORY STAGE.

and that the ultimate conclusion is neither substantiated nor
verified. The employment of subtlety is principally due to
the chaotic state of an unresolved general problem, for this
primitive chaos suggests countless inapposite questions. A prob-
lem, like a mist, clears up imperceptibly.

All subtlety, therefore, save in respect of the final solution
towards the conclusion of the investigation, is useless and
mischievous, for it is by a series of closer and closer approxi-
mations that a satisfactory solution is reached. In this con-
nection we ought to bear in mind that observation should be
relevant and rational (§ 170), and that subtlety is often a
consequence of the neglect of these two precepts. The most
notable scientific practice of to-day, is for investigators to aim
at resolving or developing to a certain extent some large aspect
of an important problem in the light of the most general
aspects, "brushing aside for a time the non-essential and rising
above the confusion of detail". Triviality, completeness, dog-
matism, subtlety, are eschewed.

In the preceding Conclusion we learnt that the progress of
science is represented by a slow upward movement. Hence
we should take it for granted in this Conclusion that any
legitimate 'problem has its roots in other partly or entirely
solved problems, and that the solution we seek restricts itself
to some definite class of phenomena, and aspires to only a
comparatively moderate advance. Accordingly we may affirm
that, passing by general explanations concerned with groups of
established sciences, the circle of scientific interest should not
normally "extend beyond one particular science at a time, such
as geology, physiology, anthropology, or ethics.

Again, in the initial stages of an investigation it would be
futile to search for momentous conclusions, for we scarcely
yet know what we are inquiring into. Let it be a question of
the genesis of culture, for instance. First, ethnologists should
have roamed among practically all the peoples of the earth,
and should have published tolerably copious notes of their
customs, practices, and institutions. For the pioneer ethnologists
conclusions should be of the smallest import and facts of the
weightiest consequence. Yet working in the dark, as they
needs must do at first, there should be no attempt to exhaust
or even approach exhausting any series of phenomena. The
facts of ethnography are very nearly infinite, more particularly
when we contemplate the incessant changes in customs and
their interpretation. Ethnographers should, therefore, be accurate
and extensive in their observations, and endeavour to secure
many samples of facts and the more common features dis-
cernible in any community. Whatever offers obstinate resistance,
as the interpretation of the mentality of peoples or the as-
certaining of the customs which these peoples are reluctant
to divulge, they reserve for a later period. If the preliminary

SECTION 20.— STUDIES PREPARATORY TO ALL INVESTIGATIONS. 189

investigation has been thorough, attempts to frame preliminary
conclusions would be in place. In that case, however, most
of the conclusions of any one worker would largely miss the
mark, and investigators would construe the data according to
widely varying principles. In fact, as we sought in the first
stage mainly for facts, so in the second we seek for the largest
number of conclusions which appear, after scrutiny, passably
consistent with the facts. With weighty facts and preliminary
conclusions collected, the third step may be ventured on, by
probably a fresh relay of investigators, of sifting these con-
clusions. Lastly comes the process of consolidating and perfect-
ing these conclusions, drawing pregnant inferences from them,
and re-examining the data. Everywhere great difficulties which
might needlessly absorb years of labour should be left unsolved,
unless we can effect nothing without attacking these. Mere
amassing of facts, formulating conclusions when the facts are
yet hardly known, elaborating some single conclusion - when
few conclusions have been as yet obtained, should be avoided.
The leading ethnographical verities will only come to the surface
through the collective labours of generations of ethnographic
students.

To sum up. We ascertain the more general facts and the
more general conditions under which these subsist; we study
the collected facts with a view to reaching a fair number of
important minor and then major conclusions; we leave at first
undisturbed refractory questions or solutions exacting lengthy
enquiries; we further assume that familiarity with some class
of fact or theory will make other classes of facts or theories
appear of less moment than they seem to us; and we take it
for granted that an individual's investigation of a large and
new problem possesses almost certainly only partial or con-
tributory value.

Each scholar, then, is concerned with a limited sphere of
investigation, and strives to discover the largest number of the
most important or most general facts and conclusions in con-
formity with the stage which his science or enquiry has reached.
Seeing the complexity of facts, this entails continuous devotion
for many years to one significant problem, and never entering
more into detail than is absolutely necessitated by the circum-
stances. Our leading thinkers, from Aristotle forwards, appear
to have followed the rule (1) of concentrating for long periods
(2) on reaching many weighty conclusions (3) in a particular
subject of fair extent, (4) which is either easy of approach or
where many facts have been already collected and colligated,
and (5) eschewing all vagueness, subtlety, argumentation, or
crude speculation as to matters obscure or unknown.

190 PART IV.— PREPARATORY STAGE.

CONCLUSION 7.

Need of recognising that Formal Rules are Barren and that
Psychical Prejudice is Baneful.

§ 81. (A) FORMAL RULES.— The first half of this Con-
clusion may be dismissed with one or two remarks. As we
have seen, and as we shall see (Conclusion 23), a critical attitude
permeating every portion of an investigation is indispensable.
A danger should, however, be guarded against — mere formal
procedure. Formally to deny, or to assert the contrary of,
any proposition, may even prove worse than dogmatic acqui-
escence in bare plausibilities. So, also, the formal piling up of,
say, generalisations is to be deprecated. Our attitude should
not be mechanical; we should rather weigh in each instance
the merits of our doubt, of our affirmations, and so on. To
call, or even to seem to call, everyone we disagree with
ignorant, narrow-minded, prejudiced, unpractical, or ill-man-
nered, is to condemn ourselves to intellectual stagnation and
inanity. Dogmatic denial is the younger brother of dogmatic
affirmation.

§82. (B) PSYCHICAL PREJUDICE.— The second part of
our Conclusion is far-reaching in character, for without some
explanation such as we are about to tender, it would be difficult
to fathom the facility and perfection with which some of the
ablest minds have deceived themselves.

How otherwise could we account for a master spirit like
Descartes writing to intimate friends concerning his first pub-
lished work (which contained the Discourse on Method, to-
gether with the Dioptric, the Meteors, and the Geometry) "that
he does not believe that there are three lines in the book which
can be rejected or changed; and that if there be the least
falsehood in any the least part of what he had published, his
whole philosophy was not worth a straw"? (J. P. Mahaffy,
Descartes, 1901, p. 72.) Kant, in the Introduction to his epoch-
making Kritik der reinen Vernunft, almost repeats what Des-
cartes affirmed of his volume. In the Preface to the first
edition he states: "I make bold to say that there cannot exist
a single metaphysical problem which is not here either solved or
the key to the solution of which is not at least given." And
in the Preface to the second edition he writes of his magnum
opus that "any attempt to alter the least part of it would at
once lead to contradictions, not only in the system but in the
general human understanding". And John Stuart Mill is firm
in regard to his Canons: "The four methods which it has now
been attempted to describe are the only possible modes of
experimental inquiry. . . . These, then, with such assistance
as can be obtained from deduction, compose the available
resources of the human mind for ascertaining the laws of the
succession of phenomena." (Logic, bk. 3, ch. 8, § 7.)

SECTION 20.— STUDIES PREPARATORY TO ALL INVESTIGATIONS. 191

The most signal example, however, of this delusion is, perhaps,
Auguste Comte, one of the deepest and sincerest thinkers of
modern times. In him dwelt an imperturbable faith that he
had laid bare in all their essentials, and beyond the possibility
of a doubt, the nature of scientific thought and the course of
mankind's past, as well as the contemporary and the ultimate
stages of man's progress. Although he believed that he was
the first to recognise clearly the fact of human progress, he
confidently sketched in minute detail the final regime, and
though he placed humanity skies high above the individual,
he proceeded as if henceforth nothing remained for humanity
to do but to accept his explanations and to execute his schemes.

Now these four justly famous thinkers are typical exemplifica-
tions of the assurance with which, in their naivete, philosophers
generally speak, even though a study of history renders it
evident that such pretensions are, to say the least, painfully
exaggerated.

In the humbler sphere of observation, as we have endeavoured
to show (Section III; see also Conclusion 23), we encounter the
same fact. Men are convinced that they have exhausted classes
of facts and conditions, when all they have often accomplished
is fastidiously to pick and choose their evidence, and to
misconstrue inconvenient facts where it is not possible to dis-
regard them altogether. It is this psychological bias also
which, in spite of serious contradictions in the world of ex-
perience, fortifies the believers in widely differing religious
faiths.

The explanation we venture to advance is as follows. The
process of thought depends on the desire to arrive at some
particular conclusion.1 When, then, we have habituated our-
selves to view with favour a certain theory and to be indifferent
or hostile to another — that is, when the mind is concentrated
or set on a certain theory — associations connected with the
favoured theory tend alone to be formed or entertained.
Moreover, any stray counter-evidence will be discounted on
superficial deliberation, whilst even direct observation of an
embarrassing character will be materially falsified by our
warped intelligence. So potent is this psychological force that
a subtle special pleader may for a time compel our unwilling
thought to run along his rails, and prevent us from thinking
of anything which would controvert what he advances. This
process grows by what it feeds on, and thus abundance of
favourable evidence, of a dubious kind frequently, and scarcely
any opposed thereto, however sound, comes to be stored in
our minds, and hence there is artificially created a conviction
of absolute certainty which, in not a few instances, is as
absolutely unwarranted. Habit accentuates this tendency to

1 G. Spiller, The Mind of Man, ch. 4.

192 PART IV.- PREPARATORY STAGE.

partiality in such a measure that it requires the utmost effort
of a generous intellect to mete out the barest justice to a new
truth, and not to forget almost instantly that such a truth had
been presented and sympathetically entertained. Darwin was
fully aware of this. He "remarked that so easy "is it to pass
over cases that oppose a favourite generalisation, that he had
made it a habit not merely to hunt for contrary instances, but
also to write down any exception he noted or thought of —
otherwise it was almost sure to be forgotten". (John Dewey,
How We Think, 1910, p. 90.)

In truly scientific enquiries psychical bias occasions little
havoc, because of the patent reason that trained men of science
love truth and hate error very much more than any particular
theory. (See, however, last paragraph of this Conclusion.)
Hence the psychological mechanism favours here a correct pro-
cedure.1 But to counteract the commonly prevailing tendency,
several Conclusions have been suggested, such as 19, 23, 27,
and 28, and the objective nature of the Conclusions in the
aggregate is likely to defeat this partiality in all but the rarest
circumstances. The synthetic and progressive character of the
investigation will, moreover, generally veil the ultimate result
until the time when it manifests itself unequivocally and can
no longer be distorted with impunity. Furthermore, at the
service of an objective inquirer, the psychological principle
will perform destructive work as efficiently as constructive
work, inasmuch as modifying and contradictory evidence will
be searched for as zealously as evidence in support. In any
case, the thinker should presuppose the pan-human origin of
truth, and therefore take it for granted that, however satis-
factory his results, they are yet far from being exhaustive or
final.2

In the cultural sciences, philosophical, religious, economic,
.educational, sex, class, national, and racial prejudices and
interests, more often than not effectually impede scientific
advance, men undertaking to prove or to disprove certain
theories because these appeal to them or because they are
repelled by them. In industry and commerce the yoke of
mechanical routine and narrow self-interest equally obstructs
progress. In most of these instances, the brain-twisting bias
is unsuspected by the theoriser, and nothing almost will move

1 " When once we have decided what we will think about, we must think
with perfect impartiality on both sides." (Mrs. Boole, Logic Taught by Love,
p. 71.) Darwin went even further, and always used the isolated phenomena
which were most difficult to explain as tests of the validity of his hypo-
theses. (Frank Cramer, op. cit., p. 230.)

"The chief sources of prejudices are: Imitation, Custom, and Inclination."
(Kant, Introduction to Logic, p. 66.) Ribot discusses the relation of the
feelings to logic in his La logique des sentiments, Paris, 1905. See also
Victor Brochard, De I'erreur, 1879.

SECTION 20.— STUDIES PREPARATORY TO ALL INVESTIGATIONS. 193

him to look truth straight, in the face. Fortunately, however,
there is a growing feeling that the love of truth should be the
supreme arbiter in all enquiries, and that, especially in social
investigations, antipathy is the sworn foe of truth, and narrow
sympathy scarcely less. Were it not for psychical prejudice
selecting favourable, and ignoring or rejecting unfavourable,
evidence, this wholesale and consummate self-deception would
be impossible.1

We have dilated above on a familiar form of prejudiced
thinking. Delving deeper, we encounter another and more
insidious form, which makes its home in the scientific process
itself. That is, the material we have collected and the con-
clusions we have arrived at, psychologically fill, and therefore
dominate, our minds, and we accordingly neither perceive things
in perspective nor as others would view them. The remedy
for this is a two-fold one. We should periodically suspend
our studies for appreciable periods at a time. This would lead
to a scattering of the mass of familiar but unimportant ideas
and divest those ideas of much of their feeling value. We
should consequently be able to assume a more critical and
objective attitude- towards our studies, and correct prejudiced
conclusions. (See § 161.) Moreover, throughout our scientific
work we should cultivate the detachment and coolness of the
critic who comes fresh to an examination of our views. We
should therefore be habituated to see ourselves, from time to
time, as others see us. Unless we acquire this rare capacity,
together with the self-control needed in occasionally interrupt-
ing our labours for appreciable periods, we are in perennial
danger of reaching sophisticated results.

1 4iThe information which an ordinary traveller brings back from a foreign
country, as the result of the evidence of his senses, is almost always such
as exactly confirms the opinions with which he sets out. He has had eyes
and ears for such things only as he expected to see. Men read the sacred
books of their religion, and pass unobserved therein multitudes of things
utterly irreconcilable with even their own notions of moral excellence. With
the same authorities before them, different historians, alike innocent of
intentional misrepresentation, see only what is favourable to Protestants or
Catholics, Royalists or Republicans, Charles I. or Cromwell; while others,
having set out with the preconception that extremes must be in the wrong,
are incapable of seeing truth and justice when these are wholly on one
side." (Mill, Logic, bk. 5, ch.4, §3.) "Before experience itself can be used
with advantage, there is one preliminary step to make, which depends wholly
on ourselves: it is the absolute dismissal and clearing the mind of all pre-
judice, from whatever source arising, and the determination to stand and
fall by the result of a direct appeal to facts in the first instance, and of
strict logical deduction from them afterwards." (Herschel, Discourse, [68.].)

"The temptations to make statements too broad, to neglect objections, to
smooth over difficulties artificially, are almost infinite." (Frank Cramer,
op. cit., p. 31.)

13

194 PART IV— PREPARATORY STAGE.

CONCLUSION 8.

Need of taking advantage of Special Scientific Methods, of

utilising Existing Knowledge, of having regard to the Future,

and of allowing for Personal Equation and for Training.

§ 83. (A) RECOGNISED SCIENTIFIC METHODS.-The
following methods are among those generally applied: (a) Ap-
proaching the remote and unknown from the side of the
known and near, including analogy, as in geology and history ;

(b) proceeding by the law of probability, of approximation, or
of averages, as in the social and anthropological sciences;

(c) applying the comparative method, as in zoology, therapeutics,
and psychology, and quite generally the geographical method,
that is, allowing for possible factual differences to be found
in different localities ; (d) employing separately or together the
historical, the genetic, and the evolutionary methods, as in bio-
logical, economic, aBsthetic, and many other kinds of investiga-
tions; (e) using the teleological method, as in ethics, or in
botany— e.g., the adaptation of flowers to pollen-carrying
insects; (/) approaching the complex and abstract from the side
of the simple and concrete, as illustrated by diagrammatic pro-
cedure and in Conclusion 19 ; and (g) imagining ideally simpli-
fied instances, as in astronomy or mechanics. According to
circumstances, as many of these methods as possible should be
employed in an enquiry. Of capital importance are (c) and (d).
In connection with (d) it should be remembered that, if suffi-
ciently brief or extensive periods are allowed for, time almost
always makes a crucial difference, and in this respect it is
advisable to extend the criterion to the future as well as to
the past and present — to infinity backwards and forwards,1 so
far as the largest problems are concerned. All these methods
are treated by implication in the subsequent Conclusions, and
are, as above intimated, individually more applicable to one
department of knowledge than to another.

A treacherous method is undoubtedly that of analogy.2 Let
us provide a modern instance of this. Darwin repeatedly com-
pared the "intelligence" of animals with the intelligence of
human beings, and from his day to ours these comparisons

1 "The student who takes an equal interest in the history of the past,
the development of the present, and the destinies of the future, keeps his
mind balanced." (Mary E. Boole, Logic Taught by Love, p. 160.)

2 "An argument from analogy is an inference that what is true in a
certain case is true in a case known to be somewhat similar, but not known
to be exactly parallel, that is, to be similar in all the material circumstances."
(Mill, Logic, bk. 5, ch. 5, § 6.) We should sharply distinguish analogies from
homologies. The latter are of considerable moment in science, e.g., inter-
minable homologies of structure have been discovered in the domain of
biology, and the sciences of heat, light, and electricity, are homologous so
far as undulatory motion and velocity of transmission are concerned. The
comparative method, as in reasoning from animals to man, occupies an
intermediate position, and requires scrupulous checking.

SECTION 20.— STUDIES PREPARATORY TO ALL INVESTIGATIONS. 195

have flourished. Yet there is here no real analogy. If, for
example, we desire to know what a lump of ore is composed of,
we conduct a variety of complicated experiments ; but inasmuch
as the mode of our procedure in this case is the outcome of
aeons of. inventions and discoveries traditionally preserved,
the detailed examination of our procedure tells us nothing in
regard to our inborn "intelligence". To ascertain the latter, we
ought to examine an individual entirely without education, or
think of the "intelligence" of man before he acquired the
rudiments of culture. For the same reason, experiments on
animals which seek to elicit their mental capacity, are mislead-
ing if they are based on the supposition that all animal species
have the same wants, interests, or capacities as man. In such
experiments we should allot to each animal species its own
proper tasks, and decline to be deceived by vague analogies.

In the life of practice, however, when inventiveness or re-
sourcefulness are desirable, analogical reasoning is of some value.
Yet here also we should beware of dubious analogies, such as
the following one where different species and distinct breeds
are compared to a chance collection of human individuals form-
ing generally neither separate species nor distinct breeds: "Sup-
pose a contractor had in his stable a miscellaneous collection
of draft animals, including small donkeys, ponies, light horses,
carriage horses, and fine dray horses, and a law were to be
made that no animal in the stable should be allowed to do
more than 'a fair day's work' for a donkey. The injustice of
such a law would be apparent to every one. . . . And the
difference between the first-class men and the poor ones is
quite as great as that between fine dray horses and donkeys."
(F. W. Taylor, Shop Management, p. 189.) As Davy stated :
"Analogy is the fruitful parent of error."

§ 84. (B) UTILISATION OF EXISTING KNOWLEDGE.-
There is considerable room for utilising knowledge acquired in
the past, which knowledge may be roughly said to fall within
five categories:

(a) General knowledge, such as this suggesting that; one,
many, all; beginning, middle, end; rise, fall; yes, no; infant,
child, adolescent, adult ; and all most widely recognised relations
and facts. Whilst criticism should be unsparing here, it must
be tempered by the recollection that this kind of elemental
knowledge enshrines the foundation of all the sciences, man's
first and greatest effort to think humanly.1

1 "The child growing up learns, along with the vocables of his mother
tongue, that things which he would have believed to be different are, in
important points, the same. Without any formal instruction, the language
in which we grow up teaches us all the common philosophy of the age.
It directs us to observe and know things which we should have overlooked;
it supplies us with classifications ready made, by which things are arranged
(as far as the light of bygone generations admits) with the objects to which

13*

196 PART IV.— PREPARATORY STAGE.

(b) Knowledge of a concrete and a less universal character,
such as that embodied in science generally and in methodology.
Not only is a thorough grounding in the principal sciences
indispensable to him who desires to pursue any science in parti-
cular, but he must keep in touch with new discoveries. Unless
he compasses the former, he is almost certain to produce second-
rate work, lacking as he does the generous background for all
thorough researches which is so conspicuously present in our
best thinkers ; and unless he attempts the latter, his knowledge
will not only be antiquated but will become to some extent
useless through being, if not forgotten, imperfectly related to
the latest phases of development. For this reason the specialist
cannot be too particular in keeping abreast of the knowledge
of his time. What he loses thereby, will be amply compensated
by the stimulus and assistance he will receive. Narrow con-
centration is unmethodological, and leads to over-specialisation
and to trivial generalisations. The harmonious development and
interaction of all the sciences and arts can only be secured by
each specialist having a regard and a care for the whole ; and,
in fact,' the ablest specialists are precisely those whose swe'ep
of interests recognises no limits. The possession of extensive
and up-to-date knowledge of scientific and other data, should
be therefore presupposed in all scientific inquirers.

(c) Knowledge more especially of those sciences which have
a more or less close bearing on the subject of our investigations.
After what we have stated under (6), this is too manifest to
need elaborating. If we take a provincial view of our theme, we
are likely to miss its profounder implications. Any one, for in-
stance, interested in any of the cultural sciences— e.g., anthro-
pology, psychology, education, aesthetics, ethics, economics,
law, politics — should be to a certain extent interested in all,
and in his own department seek to do justice to each of them.
Owing to the scanty store of sifted knowledge in the past,
there was once a legitimate tendency to pay little attention to
all but an infinitesimal arc of a subject ; but with the impressive
growth of that store, the methodological demand becomes more
and more insistent that the specialist's horizon should be as
extended as circumstances permit. (See § 73.)

(d) Knowledge of the special subject investigated, whence
many "suggestions may be derived. This knowledge is vital,
since the vast aggregate of relatively valid generalisations and
observations traceable to others requires to be fitted into the
structure of our own results. Unless therefore we are familiar
with our subject as known in our day, we are likely to squander
much time in arriving at conclusions already established, and

they bear the greatest total resemblance. The number of general names in
a language, and the degree of generality of those names, afford a test of the
knowledge of the era and of the intellectual insight which is the birthright
of any one born into it." (Bain, quoted by Mill, Logic, bk. 4, ch. 3, §1.)

SECTION 20.— STUDIES PREPARATORY TO ALL INVESTIGATIONS. 197

miss the stimulus of intimate acquaintance with the trials and
labours of others in an analogous position to ourselves.

(e) The finished product is of comparatively trifling signifi-
cance in furnishing an insight into the origin or origination of
the sciences, an aspect of decisive importance for the man of
science who aspires to be a discoverer. Accordingly, the study
of older works and the study of the history of the sciences and
arts should be assiduously cultivated. Knowledge of antiquity
and antiquity of knowledge are indispensable.

(/) Comte made out a plausible case for an inter-specialist
science, a science which would act as a bond and intermediary
between all the sciences. In a certain sense— as illustrated even
by the scope of this work — his was a reasonable demand.
Nevertheless, when we remember that narrow specialisation
grows more and more anti-scientific as sound knowledge ac-
cumulates ; that there are now various groups of closely related
sciences ; that it is difficult to harmonise or generalise without
experience and verification ; and that the true scholar is encyclo-
paedic in his understanding of phenomena, it will be seen that
an inter-specialist science has limited possibilities. Indeed, if the
proposal of such a science should tend towards an intensification
of specialisation, its effect on progress would be prejudicial in
the extreme. We conclude therefore that the scholarly specialist
will probably overlook little that is relevant in the learning of
his day, and that what is additionally needed is a wide interest
in science as such, in order to ensure that a sufficient number
of scientific works of a comprehensive character is produced.
These would aim both at pointing out certain blanks in our
knowledge, and intimate how the sciences of the day might be
conveniently blended into a comparatively connected whole.
If there has to be a choice, it is far more important that the
investigator shall have breadth of knowledge than that he shall,
relatively or absolutely, exhaust the specialist literature.

Inasmuch as our more prominent thinkers are almost invariably in-
structors in higher educational establishments, and seeing that the scope
of their duties is decided for them by their governors whose interest
cannot be solely that of research, it may be contended that little can be
attained in practice to satisfy methodological demands. Consequently, it
may be argued that most of our academic teachers are compelled to take
for their province a whole series of sciences, whilst others are required to
specialise to a high degree, and all are expected to read prodigiously. Even
under such unfavourable conditions, however, much might be achieved.
The teacher of philosophy, for instance, who lectures on metaphysics,
logics, ethics, and aesthetics, may still devote a certain time to exploring
thoroughly one of these sciences, and his specialist colleague who lectures
on thermodynamics may engage on the converse task of grappling with
some large problem, say the properties of matter. Needless to remark, this
labour of love, pursued throughout a life-time, will exert an extremely
vitalising and beneficent influence on the official outpourings of the two
types of teachers.

The above objection appears at first sight almost completely fatal in
the economic life where every moment of a long day is supposed to be

198 PART IV— PREPARATORY STAGE.

devoted to visible results. This, however, is being progressively met by
trades and firms having research departments and re-organisers, and by
so arranging the duties of certain individuals that they may have, when
required, ample leisure to experiment and to think of ordinary and radical
improvements.

In any investigation the present Sub-Conclusion plays mani-
festly a weighty part, for unless we consult our contempor-
aries and the past, steady advance in an enquiry is sadly
hampered.1

§ 85. (C) REGARD FOR THE FUTURE.— To ensure a true
perspective we should also pay heed to the demands of posterity.
Only when our vision extends to the future, are we likely to
gain a comprehensive view of our subject and be sufficiently
bold in our aspirations and conceptions.

§ 86. (D) PERSONAL EQUATION AND TRAINING.— We
naturally do not postulate in this treatise that everybody can
equally well undertake the solution of any and every problem
after a perusal of the Conclusions submitted in these pages.
There should be some guidance and practice initially, and a fair
general education to serve as a basis. We should, in the second
place, select a class of problem already under investigation (Con-
clusion 5), and enter on a discriminating study of what has been
hitherto accomplished rather than be entirely ruled by abstract
notions. Such a study, continued throughout the enquiry, will
act both as a check and as a spur. We manifestly should,
thirdly, make a direct and general survey of our subject before
actually launching our enquiry. Next arises the point of our
suitability for the task selected. Persons with relatively inade-
quate preparation, time, and resources should preferably select
scientific work which accords with their limitations, and these
will concentrate on comparatively restricted issues, or assist
others.2 The varying personal equation, the need for training,
and the financial and other support tendered to scientific
institutions or to men of science are, therefore, presupposed
throughout these pages.

1 Without pretending to prescribe a course of reading, it may be pointed
out that the main conclusions in most departments of knowledge may be
found in comprehensive text-books, or even primers, written by competent
specialists, and that encyclopaedias and excellent manuals on physiography,
biology, etc., epitomise the contents of related sciences. There is therefore
no need to read every book on every subject in order to be passably well-
informed.

2 "There is scarcely any well-informed person, who, if he has but the
will, has not also the power to add something essential to the general stock of
knowledge, if he will only observe regularly and methodically some particular
class of facts which may most excite his attention, or which his situation
may best enable him to study with effect." (Herschel, Discourse, [127.].) In
the vocational life, for example, few are so unfavourably situated that they
cannot make and suggest improvements in their particular sphere. Even if
each one were only to perform his or her task conscientiously and intelli-
gently, the life of mankind would be revolutionised.

SECTION 20.— STUDIES PREPARATORY TO ALL INVESTIGATIONS. 199

Here are a few detailed injunctions relating to self-training
at all periods of life: —

(a) Follow precedent, follow the best precedents;
(6) Follow example, follow the best examples;

(c) Learn by the experience of others, learn by your own
experience ;

(d) Inquire of, and consult with, others;

(e) Profit by what is revealed by accident or special circum-
stances ;

(/) Learn through appropriate, and increasingly profounder,
reading and study;

(gr) Learn through frequently, and sometimes systematically,
reflecting over work, its minor and major problems, with a view
to its improvement;

(h) Experiment both on a limited and on an extensive scale;

(/) Seek to improve on, and generalise as widely as possible,
what you have learnt through precedent, example, experience,
enquiry and consultation, accident and special circumstances,
reading and study, frequent and also systematic reflection, and
experiments; and

(y) Continue all your life improving methods and products
by the above and by other means.

CONCLUSION 9.
Need of Experimental Preparation in Methodology.

§ 87. The habit of methodical scientific procedure, a habit
than which it would be difficult to conceive one more important
to acquire, should be easily attainable by the student.

Consider the problem of generalisation. At the lowest stage
of training this would require habitual generalising as such. To
acquire this art, the student might proceed as follows. Sitting
in a room, he may, following the principle embodied in Con-
clusion 25, generalise everything he sees or hears. Thus "It
would be well if every sitting-room everywhere had a table,
had chairs, had a sofa, had pictures, had maps, had a globe,
had books, had wall paper, had central heating, had a carpet,
had rugs, had a door, had windows, had electric light, had a
clock, had ornaments", and so on with every object in the
room, and also with any sounds, such as that of the tickings
of the clock. This process may be repeated with every part
of the building, and may be then continued, on a monster scale,
with the world as revealed by tours round the town and country
and by examining the various senses and the furniture of the
mind. No doubt, before everything observed had been general-
ised in this crude way, the student will be obsessed by the
desire to generalise everything. After this, we may particularise
intensively before generalising. The table, that is, becomes a
specific kind of table, and so with the chairs, and with all other

200 PART IV.— PREPARATORY STAGE.

objects noted. Finally, each of the minutest features of the table,
etc., will offer further points of departure for generalising.

We have reached the second stage. Observing, for instance,
a notice relating to fares in an omnibus, the student generalises
to all omnibuses, then to tramcars, to other vehicles plying for
hire, to railways, and to craft for water and air. He further
generalises, in detail, to all possible places, like theatres, where
prices might be affixed in a convenient situation. He then
generalises, also in detail, the idea of notices on any topic
being posted in all private and public places all over the world
where such notices might prove advantageous. He proceeds
further and extends, in detail, the term notice to any statement
be it spoken, written, printed, engraved, tabular, diagrammatic,
symbolical, or otherwise. Having attained his end thus far, he
resumes his experimental practice by noting one after another
the innumerable constituent features of the omnibus and then
of other objects or of events, and treats them as he treated
the omnibus notice relating to omnibus fares. This also satis-
factorily disposed of, he commences to particularise, generalising,
say, the many aspects of the notice-board — its material, its size,
its shape, its colour, its letters and figures, its total content,
its position in the omnibus, and so forth, and passes in this
way from object to object and from event to event.

We envisage now the third stage — strictly methodical genera-
lisation. Here we proceed as in the second stage, save that
we act methodically. That is, if it be the notice relating to
fares in the omnibus, the moment we think of generalising this
matter, we imagine the humblest and shabbiest vehicle, and
cautiously and methodically continue to apply the generalisation
until we picture to ourselves the most gigantic and most sump-
tuously furnished ocean liner. We then resume as methodically,
but this time in a methodical order, all the other lines of en-
quiry intimated or implied in the preceding paragraph.

Only one further step is needed to complete the methodological
training, and this is to convert the aimless and indiscriminate
generalising into purposeful and discriminating generalising.
That is, returning again to the notice-board, we judge how far
and to what extent the notice particularising fares is justified
in the given omnibus at the given time, and how far we may
profitably generalise this particular mode of communicating
information. Repeating, on this higher plane, what has been
attempted on lower planes, there is every likelihood that
numerous valid and valuable generalisations will be obtained.

Thus we learn that the habit of methodical generalising can
be readily acquired, and, by implication, that if men commonly
generalise sporadically and unmethodically, this is most probably
incidental to the absence of appropriate training.

Needless to state that the procedure proposed in connection
with generalising should be also pursued in respect of all the

SECTION 20.— STUDIES PREPARATORY TO ALL INVESTIGATIONS. 201

mental processes dwelt on in the series of thirty-six Conclusions.
Once methodology becomes a recognised science, experimental
methodological training of a methodical character, under the
supervision of trained teachers, will be universal. That is, the
student of methodology will not only strive to comprehend and
memorise certain propositions, but he will undergo a course of
experimental training.

CONCLUSION 10.

Need of securing the Mental, Physiological, and Environmental
Conditions conducive to Efficiency and to Waste Elimination.

§ 88. Throughout our discussions in this treatise our minds
have been, and will be, almost exclusively concentrated on
the impersonal methodological means whereby our objective
methodological goal is to be reached. Seek truth, we urge,
and do this by scrupulous attention to certain conclusions which
have been, or which may be, formulated. First, we aver,
ascertain the precise nature of the problem to be investigated,
then examine the facts according to certain scientific canons,
and so forth. In each of these cases we may enter into minute
detail; but throughout we remain on the objective plane, ad-
vising what every one should do who is in quest of truth and
ignoring circumstances foreign to this objective standpoint.

In brief, we are assuming throughout that we are psycho-
logical and physiological automata, uninfluenced by anything
save inclination or aversion to truth. Of course, men pre-
suppose that insanity or serious indisposition will detrimentally
affect efficiency; but they also tacitly postulate that in the
case of what is called the normal individual the functioning
of the mind and body is virtually invariable and perfect.

Yet this is very far from being true. Haphazard movements
of the mind and body, unnecessary slowness, uneconomical use
of energies, overwork or unintelligent work resulting in para-
lysing fatigue, ill adapted instruments, materials, and surround-
ings generally, contribute towards sensibly depreciating the
quantity and the quality of work. Disregard of these and ana-
logous pre-requisites will result in an output markedly poorer
in every respect than that attained when the attendant non-
methodological circumstances are favourable.

Accordingly, we shall endeavour to formulate the general
conditions conducive to efficiency, comprehending every type
of labour.1

Assuming output of high quality as the end, ideal economy
in its production will be achieved by securing the mental,

1 An essentially popular and able treatment of the subject will be found
in Le travail intellectuel el la volonte, by Jules Payot, Paris, 1920. — "Pel-
raanism" is the name of a present-day system of mind-training recommended
by many literary and other notabilities.

202 PART IV— PREPARATORY STAGE.

physiological, and environmental conditions favouring efficient
performance. As will be seen, such economy will furnish pro-
ducts of a standard quality, and will therefore make towards
uniformly high quality as well as towards great quantity. The
problem of systematically improving what is given, which is
the complement to economy, is dealt with in § 171, since this
forms an integral part of objective methodology.

The basic reconstruction of scientific, artistic, administrative,
professional, educational, economic, domestic, and other mental
and bodily activities — with a view to maximum output of opti-
mum quality in minimum time with least effort and with no
avoidable depreciation or waste l of instruments, materials, and
material and mental energies, congruent with a long, rich,
worthy, and joyous life, involves the following factors : —

§ 89.— 1. ECONOMY OF PURPOSE.- (a) The aiming at un-
ambiguity or clearness, of distinctness or decided distinctive-
ness, and of conspicuousness or ready apprehensibility, of pur-
pose or of the conception of the task to be realised.

(b) The application of the above to the purposes subsidiary
to the initial purpose.

2. ECONOMY OF VOLITION.— (a) The unhesitating trans-
lation of the above purpose into the appropriate act, involving
maybe courage, resoluteness, strenuousness, and the resolve
to be persevering and adaptable.

(b) The application of a volition subsidiary to the initial
volition, including, besides independence of thought and judg-
ment, quickness of decision, initiative, originality, enterprise,
and forethought. (The elements of these qualities require to
be ascertained and recorded in detail.)

1 The question of the conservation of natural products, such as coal,
metals, forests, and countless others, merits the close attention of the eco-
nomist and the statesman. Not until we have harnessed the energies of the
ocean tides, of the sun, or of the atom to our engines, and have realised
by science the ambitions of the alchemists of old, shall we be justified in
lavishly consuming nature's wealth. E.g., "if it were possible to convert
the chemical energy of coal completely into work, without at first burning
it to liberate the energy as heat, the energy of 1 ton of coal would then be
sufficient to lift one of the largest liners, weighing 20,000 tons, 500 feet high."
(F. Soddy, Matter and Energy, p. 31.) Indeed, as our methodology compels
us to take into account the distant future, we have seriously, though without
alarm, to ask ourselves whether our remote descendants will know anything
of precious or useful metals, of material fuels and non-artificial fertilisers,
of natural precious stones, of wild, or even domesticated, animals, of na-
tural scenery, and much else that we find in the bowels or on the surface
of the earth, not excluding the moral, intellectual, artistic, and historic
treasures of the then hoary past. A less remote contingency is the elimi-
nation of the vast stretches of waste in our present economic system. To
the diverse aspects dealt with in this Conclusion, we may add organisation
for mass production and distribution, introduction wherever possible of
automatic labour-saving machinery, national and international organisation
of transport and power facilities, exclusion of unnecessary middlemen, and
elimination of anti-social methods in the conduct of undertakings.

SECTION 20. —STUDIES PREPARATORY TO ALL INVESTIGATIONS. 203

(c) The methodical perfecting of the volitional powers.

3. ECONOMY OF SENSATIONS.— Consequent on willing,
where a material act is to be performed, (a) the rapid recog-
nition and delicate and swift discrimination of the sensory
material offered.

(b) The application of the above to the sensings which suc-
ceed the initiating sensations at intervals.

(c) The careful education of at least the senses of sight,
hearing, and touch, in order to ensure the above.

(d) The favouring of neatness (or clearness), conspicuousness,
and distinctness (or decided separateness), in physical activities
generally (e.g., in writing), with a view to facilitating sensory
recognition and discrimination.

4. ECONOMY OF MEMORY.— Consequent on willing, where
a mental act is to be performed, (a) instantaneous and correct
recollection or recognition of the mental movements contem-
plated.

(b) Application of the above to the memory processes suc-
ceeding the initiating recollections and recognitions; and, in
order to ensure their efficiency,

(c) The acquisition through training of a good general me-
mory—comprehensive, durable, ordered, reliable, and respon-
sive;

(d) The acquisition of a good task memory for at least brief
periods (days or weeks), of a broad-span memory for briefest
periods (seconds or minutes), and the systematic and fauttless
memorising of frequently recurring movements, facts, and
figures ;

(e) Methodical and long-continued practice to ensure instanta-
neous and correct recollection at the appropriate moment-
mental, sensory, muscular— of everything habitual relating to
a task; and

(/) The favouring of neatness (or clearness), conspicuousness,
and distinctness (or decided separateness), in observation and
thought in order to facilitate retention, recognition, and re-
collection.

5. ECONOMY OF MOVEMENTS.— The theoretical aim should
be, ideally speaking, to complete a whole task with a single,
scarcely perceptible, continuous movement.

(a) The elimination of superfluous movements and operations.

(b) The substitution, wherever practicable, of a continuous
movement for a series of movements.

(c) The substitution, wherever practicable, of combined for
successive movements and operations (e.g., employing simul-
taneously, so far as practicable, both hands, every finger, the
limbs, etc., for separate operations).

(d) The utilisation of instruments (tray, note-book, generali-
sation, utilising an errand for several objects instead of one.
etc.), so as to minimise movements.

204 PART IV.— PREPARATORY STAGE.

(e) Arranging any series of movements with due regard to
their easily fitting into one another.

(/) The elimination of circuitous, haphazard, false, and non-
standardised movements.

(g) The maximum contraction of movements.

(h) Insofar as practicable, the omission or drastic simplifi-
cation or abbreviation of anything frequently recurring.

(i) The deliberate and methodical elimination from each new
or old task of everything which can be dispensed with.

(/) The encouragement of initial accuracy, leading as it does
to an extensive reduction of superfluous movements. (§ 124.)

(k) Paying special attention to the larger and more important
aspects, since these render redundant much detail.

(/) The replacing, where possible, of human labour by labour-
saving appliances.

(m) Such a spatial distribution of individuals, groups, de-
partments, furniture, and materials as shall contribute to the
most economical collaboration in collective tasks.

(n) The establishment of a standardised and completely re-
corded series of movements for tasks and part tasks, and strict
adherence thereto.

(o) The provision for a periodical re-adaptation and improve-
ment of standards.

6. ECONOMY OF TIME IN MOVEMENTS.— The theoretical
aim should be to complete the movements necessary within an
infinitesimal period of time.

(a) The determination of the average maximum speed practi-
cable for normal and exceptional individuals and circumstances.

(b) The maximum acceleration of movements.

(c) The selection of movements, and movement complexes,
which allow of highest speeds.

(d) The elimination, insofar as practicable, of (e.g., cumbrous)
movements which are inconsistent with highest speeds.

(e) The removal of impediments to fullest freedom in move-
ment.

(/) The encouragement , of rapid rhythmic movements.

(g) Methodical practice to accelerate speed.

(h} The elimination, or maximal contraction, of pauses be-
tween movements and operations.

(0 Methodical practice to eliminate, or maximally reduce,
pauses.

(/) The systematic utilisation of unavoidable pauses and par-
tially free mental energies.

(K) Planning a contemplated task, or part task, whilst en-
gaged on another.

(/) So organising the work that it can proceed without delays,
disturbances, and shorter or longer interruptions.

(772) Perennial alertness, without being engrossed in one
particular.

SECTION 20.— STUDIES PREPARATORY TO ALL INVESTIGATIONS. 205

(n) The aiming at neatness (or clearness), conspicuousness,
and distinctness (or decided separateness), in every type of
mental and physical task, as favouring speed.

(o) The application of a trained intelligence to the expedi-
tious solution of difficulties. •

(p) Having instruments and materials, of -an appropriate and
sterling character and in good condition, always ready to hand,
and having products systematically removed.

(q) Proper co-ordination, and hearty co-operation and collabo-
ration, of individuals, groups, and departments, engaged oh a
particular task or related tasks.

(r) The keeping down of fatigue to a level consistent with
the maintenance of a uniformly high hourly and daily average
speed. (See 7.)

(s) The establishment of an absolute and an average time
standard for a task and for parts thereof, and strict adherence
thereto.

(t) The provision for a periodical re-adaptation and improve-
ment of standards.

7. ECONOMY OF EFFORT AND FATIGUE IN MOVE-
MENTS.— The theoretical aim should be to complete the move-
ments necessary for an operation with the expenditure of an
infinitesimal degree of effort and with a negligible amount of
fatigue.

(a) The determination of the average maximum effort practi-
cable for normal and exceptional individuals and circumstances.

(b) The elimination of superfluous exertions.

(c) The increase of exertions, where needed, to the maximum
limit consistent with hygienic or quickly removed fatigue-
that is, fatigue which does not reduce quantity or quality of
work, which does not leave the individual very tired after
working hours, and which permits of complete recuperation
by the following morning.

(d) The determination of the maximum average exertion
consistent with hygienic or quickly removed fatigue.

(e) The distribution of exertions over several organs and in
the least fatiguing order.

(/) The allocation of movements to organs and muscles best
able to produce them with least effort and least fatigue.

(g) The introduction, wherever practicable, of rhythms in
movements.

(/z) Methodical practice to raise the individual's power and
endurance.

(z) The elimination of unnecessary fatiguing movements (ex-
cluding, as far as practicable, bending, stooping, turning, twist-
ing, and extended arm work).

(j) The encouragement of a bearing and gait, as well as of
bodily proportions, and also of garments, conducive to maximum
exertion and minimum fatigue.

206 PART IV.— PREPARATORY STAGE.

(K) The re-arrangement of tasks and parts thereof, of the
hours and time-of-day of work, of meal-times, of rest-acces-
sories, of rest-periods within and outside working-hours, of
recreation, of daily hours of labour, of week-end pauses and
holidays, with the object of minimising debilitating fatigue and
maintaining mental and bodily vigour.

(/) The establishment of proper indoor or outdoor conditions—
(1) pure air, avoidance of cold and heat, good light by day and
night, satisfactory rest room, canteen, mess room, committee
room, cloak room, and lavatory accommodation, effective dusting
and cleaning, provisions for first-aid, modern sanitary arrange-
ments and other conveniences, comparative silence, protection
from avoidable disturbance or interference, regard for aBsthetic
sense; and (2) equitable and courteous treatment by superiors.

(m) The eschewing of noxious foods, beverages, narcotics,
and amusements, and of deleterious habits generally.

(/z) The corresponding promotion of the proper functioning
of the respiratory, alimentary, circulatory, muscular, nervous
and neural systems, and of robust mental and bodily health
generally.

(6) The avoidance of nervousness, excitement, and pain, inas-
much as these tend to depress energy and intensify fatigue.

(p) The existence of an interest and pleasure in the task
and pursuit.

(q) The recognition of the high hygienic and happiness value
of strenuousness, and of the detrimental effect on health and
happiness of idleness or slacking.

(r) Love of work, a cheerful, buoyant spirit, and equanimity
and kindly disposition.

(s) Genial colleagues.

(f) Security of post, and adequate provision for self and family
for the present, for old age, and for all contingencies.

(u) Ample opportunities, and full liberty, to participate in
the bracing larger life beyond the particular pursuit.

(v) The establishment of an average standard, or of average
standards, for maximum effort and maximum fatigue consistent
with the maintenance of robust health.

(w) The provision for a periodical re-adaptation and improve-
ment of standards.

8. ECONOMY OF THOUGHT AND FEELING.— The theo-
retical aim should be to complete the necessary movements
with a minimum of cogitation and feeling.

(a) A sound general education as a solid basis for efficiency
in a particular avocation, and a sound body (involving proper
nourishment, etc.) as a necessary basis for a sound education.

(6) The thorough early training in the particular pursuit, by
trained instructors who are acquainted with the best methods
of work and teaching, and the possession of the fullest up-to-
date information directly or indirectly germane thereto.

SECTION 20.— STUDIES PREPARATORY TO ALL INVESTIGATIONS. 207

(c) Methodical practice in order to grow increasingly pro-
ficient in economising thought and feeling.

(d) The perfecting of the capacity to observe, of the reason-
ing process, of the judgment, of the imagination, of the aBsthetic
sense, of the desire to do one's duty, and of general mani-
pulative dexterity, mental and bodily.

(e) The encouragement of initial accuracy (§ 124), resource-
fulness (§ 135), and* self-training (§ 86).

(/) The creation of pauses for critically reviewing the past,
planning the future, and thinking out well and at leisure com-
plicated tasks. (In large undertakings this would entail institut-
ing a planning, a progress, and a costing department.)

(g) The calculation of everything practicable by measurement
or mathematically, or at least arriving at quite definite, metho-
dical, and durable decisions or arrangements.

(h) The classification, and the subsequent separation and
standardisation, of procedures, materials, etc., and the elimi-
nation of unnecessary diversity.

(/) The generalising, and the deductive, exploitation of what
proves advantageous.

(/) The systematic specialisation of functions and subdivision
of tasks with the object of enhancing productivity (and quality),
allowing for fair insight into connected functions and tasks.

(k) The improvement and development of given processes
and products, the striking out along new profitable lines, and
the discouragement of mere routine and sheer love-of-change,
as all but the supreme duty of the worker. (See § 171.)

(/) The evolution of a temperament and of emotional atti-
tudes stimulating and not depressing activity— e.g., equanimity,
quiet cheerfulness, friendly feelings towards others, trustfulness.

(777) The establishment of an average general standard of
intelligence and feelings for (a) pursuits and for (b) tasks.

(ri) The provision for a periodical re-adaptation and improve-
ment of standards.

9. ECONOMY OF LOCALITY, ACCOMMODATION, FURNI-
TURE, INSTRUMENTS, MATERIALS, MACHINERY, AND
MATERIAL ENERGIES— (a) The close adaptation of these to
the peculiarities and possibilities of the mind and body, as set
out in 1 to 8 above.

(b) The avoidance of depreciation and waste in the above.

10. ECONOMY OF PRODUCTS.— (a) The creation of such
products only as tend to promote the lasting welfare of the
individual, the community, and mankind — i.e., as tend to realise
the good, the true, the hygienic, and the beautiful.

(b) The creation of products of the highest quality only, as
being most economical.

(c) The avoidance of depreciation and waste of products.

11. ECONOMY OF INDIVIDUAL ACTION.— (a) Systematic
and radical co-ordination of life and related pursuits — and of

208 PART IV.- PREPARA TORY STAGE.

pursuits generally in a hierarchical order— locally, nationally,
and internationally, in order to increase productivity and
diminish waste.

(b) The widest dissemination and standardisation of what is
found to be of value.

12. SUMMARY. — The radical reconstruction of processes and
procedures in order maximally to economise purpose, volition,
sensations, memory, and, more especially, (a) movements as
such, (b) time in movements, (c) effort and fatigue in move-
ments, (d) thought and feeling in movements, (e) locality, accom-
modation, furniture, instruments, materials, machinery, and
material energies, (/)- products, and (g) individual action.

Basic Reconstruction. — Real economy implies basic reconstruction. "It
is as well to recognise first as last that real progress from the best pre-
sent method to the standard method can never be made solely by
elimination. The sooner this is recognised the better. Elimination is
often an admirable makeshift. But the only real progress comes through
a reconstruction of the operation, building it up of standardised units,
or elements." (F. B. Gilbreth, Motion Study, 1911, p. 91.)

As might be anticipated, basic reconstruction absorbs much time.
"Mr. Gantt says that the setting of each of his tasks meant at least a
year's preliminary work at a time — and motion-study, general or special,
and in some cases two years." (M. and H. D. McKillop, Efficiency Me-
thods, 1917, p. 107.)

Motion-Study. — "Motion study has been described as the dividing of
the elements of the work into the most elementary subdivisions possible,
studying and measuring the variables of these fundamental units sepa-
rately and in relation to one another, and from these studied, chosen units,
after they have been derived, building up methods of least waste."
(Frank B. and Lillian M. Gilbreth, Fatigue Study, 1919, p. 11.)

Motion study is largely instrumental. "The methods of measurement
of activity are motion study, micromotion study, the cyclegraph, the
chronocyclegraph, and the penetrating screen." (Ibid., p. 131.)

Here is an example of concrete motion study. "Gilbreth found that
with the customary way of laying bricks eighteen motions were employed
in laying a single brick, but eleven of these could be omitted altogether,
and some of the others could be combined, so that the required motions
were reduced to one and three-quarters." (Frederick S. Lee, The Human
Machine and Industrial Efficiency, 1918, pp. 19-20.)

J^ATIG UE.— "Fatigue study is related to motion study in that both
are branches of waste elimination." (Frank B. and Lillian M. Gilbreth,
Fatigue Study, p. 17.)

"Even where fatigue is not materially cut down during working hours,
because measurement shows that the worker is not getting over-fatigued,
the general health is apt to improve because of greater regularity in habits
of work, and because of better physical and mental habits while doing
the work. The path along this line is a continuous, never-ending upward
spiral. Fatigue is eliminated by establishing proper habits. The proper
habits improve health. The improved health allows of more work with
less fatigue, etc." (Ibid., p. 143.) "At any stage in the process of fatigue
elimination the results may be tested. The general health of the worker,
his prolonged activity, his posture, his behaviour, act as such tests."
(Ibid., p. 151.)

It is usually the tired motorman who has the collision. The tired
locomotive engineer passes the stop signal. The exhausted motorist is
in the accident. The tired operator gets his fingers caught in the machine.
The overtired sickroom attendant gives the wrong medicine." (Ibid., p. 86.)

SECTION 20.— STUDIES PREPARATORY TO ALL INVESTIGATIONS. 209

The first classic on the subject of fatigue is Industrial Health and
Efficiency, being the Final Report of the Health of Munition Workers
Committee of the British Ministry of Munitions. The volume shows that
only short hours of work are consistent with health and with large
output.

HABIT. — We must allow for the gradual manner in which new habits
are acquired. "An operation took on an average 2.17 minutes. After the
method had been modified, the worker took 1.6 minutes. In a short time
she took only 0.5 minutes." (M. and A. D. McKillop, Efficiency Methods.
p. 110.)

HOURS OF LABOUR.— The effect of reducing the number of hours
worked is sometimes startling. "I should like to quote an instance,
occurring recently in a surgical dressing factory where women were
engaged as yarn-winders, an occupation requiring much dexterity and the
constant repairing of broken threads. The daily hours of work were ten,
namely from 6-8, 8.30-12.30, 1.30-5.30, and in addition to these ten
hours, overtime was worked from 6-8 p.m. Among these yarn-winders
was a young unmarried woman of thirty-two who claimed that by not
working before breakfast (from 6 to 8 a.m.) and by refusing to work
overtime (from 6 to 8 p.m.), she turned out more in the remaining eight
hours than if she had worked the whole twelve hours. Her claim was
put to the test by comparing her monthly output during eight hours
per day with that of three first-class hands working during the first
fortnight at twelve hours per day and during the second fortnight at ten
hours per day. Despite the fact that the short-timer stayed away the
whole of one working day and three half-days during the month, her
output of 52,429 bobbins easily beat the average output of her three
competitors' 48,529 bobbins. In 32 per cent, less hours of work she
produced 8 per cent, more work. Further, the output of the three com-
petitors was greater by more than 5 per cent, during the second (as
compared with the first) fortnight, when no overtime was being worked
and the length of the working day was thus reduced by 16.6 per cent."
(Charles S. Myers, Present-Day Applications of Psychology, 1918, pp. 15-16.)

What appears to be true of this particular instance, seems to hold
generally, as the following excerpt implies: "We have an even more
significant case in Durham, where the hewers have for many years en-
joyed a seven-hour day from bank to bank. Nevertheless, the output per
underground worker in Durham is fully equal to that of the other districts
where more than an extra hour is worked. ... In the United States the
reduction of the hours of labour in coal mining from 10 to 8 presently
led. as is officially reported, to a positively larger output for each work-
man per day than the highest output of the 10 hours. The Industrial
Commission of the Supreme Court (Final Report, Vol. II, 1902) reports
that 'in the industry of coal mining the shorter working day has in-
creased the efficiency of both workmen and the management'. We see
no reason why a like increase in the efficiency of both workmen and
the management should not be manifested in this country on the now
projected reduction of hours from nine to seven per day." (Quoted from
the Coal Commission Report, in Engineering and Industrial Management,
March 27th, 1919, p. 208.)

METHOD OF DETERMINING STANDARD PROCEDURE.— In certain
tasks the method of determining standard procedure would be to apply
the general methods of simplifying motions, increasing speed, reduciqg
fatigue, etc. In simple tasks of a transient character, and in the daily
attempts to economise wherever possible, general principles would form
the chief guides. In other tasks, however, where their nature is fre-
quently the result of historic development, and where tools and machinery
are involved, it is manifestly impracticable to re-invent the process, with-
out regard to established usage. In such cases the best current practice
has to be studied. Taylor suggests the following procedure : "First, Find,
say, ten or fifteen different men (preferably in as many separate establish-

14

210 PART IV. PREPARATORY STAGE.

ments and different parts of the country) who are especially skilful in
doing the particular work to be analysed. Second. Study the exact
series of elementary operations or motions which each of these men uses
in doing the work which is being investigated, as well as the implements
each man uses. Third. Study with a stopwatch the time required to
make each of these elementary movements, and then select the quickest
way of doing each element of the work. Fourth. Eliminate all false
movements, slow movements, and useless movements. Fifth. After doing
away with all unnecessary movements, collect into one series the quickest
and best movements as well as the best implements." (The Principles
of Scientific Management, 1911, pp. 117-118.) Gilbreth pursues this study
by means of highly delicate recording instruments.

TRAINING.— Taylor finely conceives of the training of the worker,
which evidently ought to be as thorough as that of the professional man.
He says: "It should be remembered that the training of the surgeon has
been almost identical in type with the teaching and training which is
given to the workman under scientific management. The surgeon, all
through his early years, is under the closest supervision of more ex-
perienced men who show him in the minutest way how each element
of his work is best done. They provide him with the finest implements,
each one of which has been the subject of special study and development,
and then insist upon his using these implements in the very best way.
All of this teaching, however, in no way narrows him. On the contrary,
he is quickly given the very best knowledge of his predecessors; and,
provided (as he is, right from the start) with standard implements and
methods which represent the best knowledge of the world up to date,
he is able to use his own originality and ingenuity to make real additions
to the world's knowledge, instead of reinventing things which are old.
In a similar manner, the workman who is co-operating with his many
teachers under the modern scientific management has an opportunity to
develop, which is at least as good as, and generally better, than that which
he had when the whole problem was 'up to him' and he did his work
entirely unaided." (Ibid., pp. 66-67.)

Owing to practical necessities Taylor was engrossed in what one might
term re-education. Early training is, however, an imperative need. "Skill
is largely a matter of training," say F. B. and L. M. Gilbreth, "and the
greatest skill can be acquired in the shortest amount of time when right
habits are acquired as the direct result of right methods having been
taught from the start." (Measurement of the Human Factor in Industry,
1917, p. 4.) The problem of a scientifically standardised form of training
apprentices is yet waiting solution.

CONCLUSION 11.
Need of Systematically Framing Hypotheses.

§ 90. A fact may be defined as an assumption in closest
accord with sifted knowledge, and a theory as a proposition
about the complete correctness of which full assurance is lacking.
Wherever in a scientific enquiry, therefore, we take into con-
sideration what is not strictly before us in space and time, or,
what amounts to the same thing, wherever we utilise the me-
mory, we indulge in framing hypotheses. These may be infinitely
near the truth or infinitely removed from it, but hypotheses
they remain. The office of a scientific methodology is to ensure
that they shall be framed when required by the circumstances,
that they shall not be framed when not required by the circum-
stances, that they shall be discarded or modified when found

SECTION 20.- STUDIES PREPARATORY TO ALL INVESTIGATIONS. 211

inapplicable, that they shall be verified when formed, and that
they shall be, as far as possible, extremely close to the truth.1

Since all the Conclusions represent to a certain degree attempts
to satisfy the standard formulated in the foregoing sentence,
and whereas the problem is incidentally treated in some detail
in many of the Conclusions, besides having a special Section
allotted to it in Part II, it does not appear necessary to enter
into particulars in this place, but just to state the need of
habitually and methodically framing hypotheses.

Recapitulating the subject, we may say that the investigator
should systematically devise the most extensive hypotheses
consistent with the stage of an enquiry, whether it be in the
matter of observation, generalisation, deduction, definition, etc.;
that he should systematically verify, improve, and extend his
hypotheses; and that he should be aware that where a mo-
dicum is known, the hypotheses formulated are almost certain
to be substantially erroneous and that the time spent on veri-
fying them is likely to prove worse than wasted. Only this
need be added that the common practice of accumulating con-
jectures regardless of adequate preliminary observation and
subsequent adequate verification is a token of the absence,
rather than of the presence, of scientific proficiency.

Conclusions dealing somewhat circumstantially with the matter
of this Conclusion are 5, 6, 25, 28, and 29, and most especi-
ally 25 d.

CONCLUSION 12.
Need of Co-operation in Scientific Work.

§ 91. Science knows no barriers of nationality, and contri-
butions receive fair consideration whether they emanate from
London or Paris, Tokio or Teheran. A moment's reflection will
convince any one that but for this frank national and interna-
tional co-operation, science would be yet embryonic in form,
and its text-books be mostly filled with hearsay. Indeed, but
for the fact of civilisation, with its open door, replacing bar-
barism, with its closed gates, there would be practically no
intercommunication between peoples, and without this it is diffi-
cult to conceive the existence of many sciences, inasmuch as
these are almost invariably dependent on data culled from every
region of the globe.

However, unpremeditated co-operation between peoples is
traceable down to the remotest antiquity. An illustration of

1 "Hypotheses have often an eminent use: and a facility in framing them,
if attended with an equal facility in laying them aside when they have served
their turn, is one of the most valuable qualities a philosopher can possess:
while, on the other hand, a bigoted adherence to them, or indeed to peculiar
views of any kind, in opposition to the tenor of facts as they arise, is the
bane of all philosophy." (Herschel, Discourse, [217.].)

14*

212 PART IV.— PREP A RA TORY STAGE.

this may be found in how Aristotle came to be pre-eminent
among the scholastics. Byzantine scholars acclimatised him in
their land and also popularised him in Egypt. When in the
seventh century the bellicose Arabs invaded the latter country,
they became disciples of Aristotle, and carried his fame to
wherever their conquests extended. Thus he came to be studied
in Spain, of which the Arabs had become the masters. And
thence the works were gradually introduced to the rest of Europe.
Collaboration, which Bacon so strongly recommended, is
becoming more and more prevalent. Dictionaries, encyclopedias,
and text-books are now frequently compiled by companies of
scholars; the heavens are at present being mapped out by
about a score of observatories concertedly; an International
Committee deals with the work done in relation to the exact
determination of atomic weights, whilst an International Com-
mission of Scientific Aeronautics directs the studies for upper
air research ; national and international scientific institutions,
academies, conferences, and periodicals, facilitate exchange of
opinions and co-operation ; and men of science, especially physi-
cists and biologists, not rarely keep in intimate contact with
others who are pursuing kindred lines of enquiry.1 Except
for this fact of collaboration, scientific advance would be much
retarded. The knowledge we possess of radium, the advances
which are being recorded in chemistry, and the progress re-
gistered in the biological sciences are largely due to men readily

1 Here is an example : "About the middle of the nineteenth century there
came into existence in most countries organisations, either voluntary or
State supported, for collecting observations of weather from a number of
places and for summarising the observations when collected. At the present
time the land surface of the globe is covered by a network of stations at
which regular observations of weather are made on a definite plan. Over
wide areas, especially in the tropics, the network is of very wide mesh,
so that many facts which it would be desirable to record escape notice. The
organisation of the work is still imperfect in other respects also, but each
year sees a further approach to the meteorologist's ideal of securing regular
observations from the whole world, so that he may be able t.o study the
world's weather changes as a whole. Nor is the ocean neglected, for most
ocean-going ships keep a regular record of weather observations. Each
station or ship forwards its records regularly to the central institution of its
country for correlation with those taken elsewhere. In this way a vast amount
of material is collected and made available for study or for application to the
affairs of every-day life. The central institutions of different countries are
kept in contact with one another by periodic conferences of their directors,
which conferences elect from their members a committee to deal with current
questions." (R. G. K. Lempfert, op. cit., pp. vi-vii.)

The need for co-operation is also appreciated in the efficiency movement.
"Wherever possible more than one observer should be set to work, as the
statistics will be much more valuable if personal idiosyncrasies can be
eliminated by comparison and repetition." (M. and A. D. McKillop, op. cit.,
p. 84.) So, too, Mr. and Mrs. Gilbreth urge that methods of efficiency
should be discovered by trade associations rather than by individuals or
firms, and that skill should be transferred to bodies of workers simultaneously
rather than to one individual at a time.

SECTION 20.— STUDIES PREPARATORY TO ALL INVESTIGATIONS. 213

absorbing the conclusions which others have reached. "A Darwin
now no sooner propounds original ideas concerning the evolution
of living creatures, than those ideas are discussed and illustrated,
and applied by naturalists in every part of the world. In former
days his discoveries would have been hidden for decades of years
in scarce manuscripts, and generations would have passed away
before his theory had enjoyed the same amount of criticism and
corroboration as it has already received." (Jevons, Principles
of Science, p. 575.)

With the passage of time wide collaboration will become in-
creasingly recognised as indispensable in all scientific work,
and thereto will probably be added Commissions of Experts
who will offer advice and final criticism. An incalculable waste
obtains in private adventures of a scientific character, and it
is only consistent to demand that if truth be a collective pro-
duct, it should be arrived at by systematic co-operation. In the
place of the present-day motto "One man, six books", there
ought to be the device "Six men, one book", and such volumes,
not too bulky ones either, should cover much ground, embracing
preferably a substantial part of some subject or science. It ought
not to. be left to the undiscriminating fates to determine who
should initiate or continue a line of investigation, nor should
an individual toil for years without impartially examining the
labours of others and without soliciting and receiving from
many competent quarters the soundest advice, assistance, and
criticism.

Right to the end of the eighteenth century, and even beyond,
scurvy caused terrible havoc among the seafaring population.
Thousands and tens of thousands succumbed to this loathsome
scourge. Yet already in 1734 Bachstrom correctly diagnosed its
cause: —

"From want of proper attention to the history of the scurvy, its
causes have been generally, though wrongfully, supposed to
be cold in northern climates, sea-air, the use of salt-meats, etc.,
whereas this evil is solely owing to a total abstinence from
fresh vegetable food and greens ; which is alone the true primary
cause of the disease. And where persons, either through neglect
or necessity, do refrain for a considerable time from eating the
fresh fruits of the earth and greens, no age, no climate or soil
are exempted from its attack. Other secondary causes may
likewise concur, but recent vegetables are found alone effectual
to preserve the body from this malady; and most speedily to
cure it, even in a few days, when the case is not rendered
desperate by the patients' being dropsical or consumptive."
(Quoted in Report on ... Vitamines, p. 38.)

For those on the high seas the above advice may have seemed
a counsel of perfection. However, the appropriate remedy was
also not unknown. "Lind recounts the tragic history of four
ships which sailed from England to Bombay in April 1600,

214 PART IV.— PREPARATORY STAGE.

carrying 480 men on board, including merchants and other
officials, in order to establish the East India Company. The
Commodore upon his own ship had arranged for a regular issue
of lemon juice, three tablespoonfuls daily, to all hands, and four
months later, when the flotilla reached the Cape, his men were
all in good health. On the other three ships, however, the seamen
were so severely attacked by scurvy that the passengers had
to work as common seamen. In all 105 men died from scurvy
during the voyage, and when Bombay was finally reached the
entire work of unloading had to be performed by the crew of
the Commodore's ship." (Ibid., pp. 57-58.)

Thus a glaring lack of co-operation, of learning by the experi-
ence of others, has in this as in so many other cases been highly
prejudicial to the welfare and progress of mankind.

In the more highly developed sciences, where it is customary
to consult colleagues and to submit from time to time for public
criticism provisional results obtained in an enquiry, we are ap-
proaching the co-operative ideal, and the future will presumably
know little of scientific work not undertaken and executed in
collaboration. How this is to be accomplished, we cannot pro-
fitably discuss here; but why should there not be instituted
international bureaus for each branch of science, each bureau
publishing in an international or in an internationalised language
a periodical, a standard primer, and elementary and advanced
text-books to be used internationally ; and why should there not
be formed, besides intermediate bureaus embracing a complete
science and groups of sciences (physics, biology, etc.), a central
bureau of science connecting these and issuing a magazine and
standard primers of science akin to Huxley's Introductory and
Paul Bert's First Year of Scientific Knowledge, and one or more
advanced manuals?

At the same time the conditions of co-operation must be
respected. For those, for example, who concern themselves
with the cultural sciences, to co-operate — as Prof. Small in his
inspiring The Meaning of Social Science proposes— in ascertaining
the dynamic factors involved in a particular historical event,
would be, in our judgment, futile in most cases at present,
because feebly developed sciences applied in conjunction to one
complex problem would only augment the prevalent confusion.
However, as the stores of reliable knowledge grow through the
ages, such co-operation not only becomes practicable, but is
practised on an imposing scale. We have to no small extent
already reached this stage.

Co-operation in research work, incredible as it may seem to many, is
becoming a reality in industry and commerce. Owing chiefly to govern-
mental initiative and assistance, Research Associations are being formed
by the leading industries in England. Added to this, researches of all-
national importance are conducted by special governmental committees ;
and there is the brightest prospect of English effort being linked with
the efforts of other nations in the same direction. The condition for a

SECTION 20.-STUDIES PREPARATORY TO ALL INVESTIGATIONS. 215

general and continuous advance in the solution of industrial and com-
mercial problems is thus given. Besides, it is a growing practice for
establishments to call in the "scientific manager" or "efficiency engineer"
for the purpose of reconstructing them on a scientific basis. We may hence
confidently look forward to the establishment of a science of efficiency,1
produced and applied co-operatively. The era of secrecy, incompetence,
and isolation in business matters is happily passing.

As profound is the change which is proceeding in a cognate direction.
Collective bargaining was long resisted by employers (and in some quarters
is still resisted). However, not only is the principle now generally con-
ceded that workingmen may belong to a trade union and that they may
be represented by the officials of their unions, but the representatives of
the employers' and employees' unions meet and amicably arrive at collective
agreements. In the workshop, too, the worker is ceasing to be arrogantly
or philanthropically treated, and workshop and employment conditions
are coming to be decided by joint committees of employers' and workers'
representatives. Already, also, representation of the workers on boards
of management is being introduced, and to a share in the general manage-
ment a share in the profits is coming to be added. Legislation is being
similarly affected. Only a few years ago, the government of the country,
save for the voting at elections, was entirely out of the hands of the people.
A far-reaching democratic principle is at present making headway, and
„ men will soon be wondering how undemocratic the past was. In advanced
democratic countries, for instance, industrial legislation is now prepared
by Governments in close co-operation with employers' and workers' repre-
sentatives, and the same principle is tending to be applied in the prepara-
tion of all forms of legislation. It is one of the happiest auguries of the
coming co-operative world State that the diverse Peace Treaties concluded
between the late belligerents contain a provision for the holding annually
of International Labour Conferences. These have for their object the
iraming of international draft conventions on labour matters, and are
attended by a fixed number of representatives of Governments, employers,
and workers — 2 Government, 1 employers', and 1 workers' representative
for each country. In other words, the day does not appear to be distant,
when Governments, firms, and other bodies, and individuals, too, will
tread the ethically and methodologically more excellent way of co-operation.

In the centuries to come there will be an end to producing
many or ponderous books, whilst unreliable accounts and inade-
quate theories will reach the vanishing point. Relatively few
comprehensive and fascinating pamphlets and lectures, in addi-
tion to reports, text-books, and encyclopedias, will enlighten
humanity, and it will be acknowledged both that science should
rule man's daily life and thought and that such science must
be the effect of collaboration*2

1 A work on the subject, heralding the dawn, is Fundamental Sources of
Efficiency, 1914, by F. Durell.

2 "In 1907, 1042 authors presented to the world 2131 papers on meteorology,
229 on atmospheric electricity, and 180 on terrestrial magnetism." (Report
of the British Association for the Advancement of Science, 1908, p. 589.)
Manifestly men's ambition should be to spend practically a life-time in elu-
cidating a single large question— as was the case with Gibbon, Adam Smith,
Darwin, and others, and to attempt this by consultation and co-operation.
The prevailing fashion, even in the highest quarters, of innumerable scholars
producing many varied essays is apparently not the best one. On reflection
it would be generally admitted that the quality of one's performance is
immeasurably raised in value if time is freely bestowed on it, and that, in
the absence of systematic provision for every thought being followed up,

216 PART IV. -PREPARATORY STAGE.

CONCLUSION 13.

Need of a Provisional Conception as to the Form which an
Enquiry should assume.

§ 92. In the Conclusions which succeed this one, we shall
deal with ' the various stages of an investigation in synthetic
order and with the methods applicable to them. In this place,
for the sake of providing a synopsis, we offer miniature illustra-
tions of the conception which should dominate the inquirer in
respect of his general procedure. Since, however, all that we
could state is necessarily contained in far greater fulness in the
subsequent portions of the treatise, the present Conclusion must
inevitably appear seriously incomplete. Its object may therefore
be said to be to indicate by a few unpretentious examples in
what spirit an enquiry is to be entered on rather than to deter-
mine every one of the methods which need to be employed for
the purpose of bringing it to a successful issue.

To level wits, was Bacon's methodological end, and this should
be manifestly also the ideal of every methodologist. The test,
that is, of a methodology, is the aid it renders the inquirer,
and the burden it removes from his shoulders. So far as Bacon's
chief example, the one relating to the investigation of heat, is
concerned, he supplies four definite rules, and implies that classes
of facts should be exhausted, that experiments should be made
whenever practicable, that utilitarian ends should be kept in
view as well as theoretical ones, and that opinions should be
loosely held until established by irrefragable proofs. Granted
that these helps- are invaluable, they are yet far removed from
according the inquirer all the guidance he requires.

Suppose we go much further. By Conclusion 19, the inquirer
is greatly aided in the collection of facts. By Conclusion 20 his
path is made comparatively smooth. By Conclusions 17 and 21
he is helped to avoid a number of concealed traps which might
seriously vitiate his conclusions. By Conclusions 27 and 28
much that is obscure and complicated would be illuminated and
disentangled. His course will be also determined to a crucial
extent by Conclusion 3. Conclusion 16 will, naturally, contribute
appreciably to his success. In all this, the general course of
procedure — clarity in regard to the problem to be examined,
observation, generalisation, verification, deduction, application,
classification, and interim and final statement — is assumed.

Even so, however, the methodological ideal is not completely
satisfied. We ought to postulate, besides, thorough intimacy

there is an appalling waste of energy. For instance, how much more just
the present author would have been to his readers and to his theme, if,
through exclusive devotion and through enlisting wide co-operation, he could
have dealt with the whole of his theme instead of with only a portion
thereof, and if he could have avoided many imperfections which no doubt
materially reduce the value of this treatise.

SECTION 20 —STUDIES PREPARATORY TO ALL INVESTIGATIONS. 217

with the whole of the methodology and some practice therein,
and being well-informed generally and in the particular subject.

The above being conceded, if the problem treated of in the
illustration which follows were placed independently before a
score of persons, the results arrived at by them, supposing they
agreed to become investigators, should be nearly the same.
The divergences ought to be trifling, more in the manner than
in the matter. Very little should be left to hazard or to agitation
of wits.

The illustration should be examined from this standpoint.
Much will be perceived to follow directly from methodological
premises ; but owing to the methodological system having been
slowly and laboriously evolved, others than the author should
be able to present a better articulated and more patently me-
thodological treatment of the subject proposed. In fact, the
criterion of a methodology is not what the methodologist accom-
plishes or fails to accomplish; but what a well-informed and
favourably situated individual can achieve by its means in a
particular enquiry.

I.— FIRST AND DETAILED ILLUSTRATION.

First Stage. — Statement of the Problem.1

§ 93. It is asserted that the white race is greatly superior
intellectually, morally, and practically, to all other races. I re-
solve to probe this assertion, and to examine it with a view
to detecting whether there exist any material differences be-
tween races in respect of the qualities mentioned. Having
regard, however, to the nature of the question, I cannot expect
to receive a quantitative reply in the rigid sense. I can only
ask for proof of "substantial" equality, inequality, or differ-
ence: for proof, for example, that- all peoples, with the possible
exception of a negligible fraction, are virtually or apparently
equal in respect of the characters mentioned. Again, in speaking
of superiority, I exclude for the sake of simplicity, as implied,
all superiority in the possession of humour, of beauty, and even
of physique apart from health, and include, as stated, only
intellectual, moral, and practical (such as initiative, enterprise,
determination, independence, courage, etc.) traits. Some of the
details as to the cultural capacity of individuals, can be ascer-
tained with relative ease in our age of education and travel
and the publication of reports, whereas the problem of the
interdependence of civilisations requires for its solution the
consideration of the facts elicited by history and anthropology.

Being clear in* our minds in regard to the problem to be
investigated, we may proceed.

1 Conclusions 14-15.

218 PART IV.— PREPARATORY STAGE.

Second Stage.— Examination of Relevant Data.1

§ 94. Having formulated our problem, we examine the re-
levant facts in order that we may be in a position to gene-
ralise. Here we are specially guided by Conclusions 19, 20
and 17, and bear in mind Conclusion 21. Conclusions 3 and
16 are, of course, utilised to the full.

(a) TERMS.— What do we roughly mean by "intellectual,
moral, and practical superiority"? What do we mean by
"race"? What do the terms "white" and "non-white" signify
to us? What do we mean by "greatly superior"?

(b) EXISTENCE.— Do races exist at all, or is their existence
relatively doubtful or relatively indubitable?

(c) INDEPENDENCE.— Is each nominal race wholly or partly
unique, or to what degree is it part of something larger, or
composed of various or varying races, or enters largely or

.otherwise into the composition of the human race in general?
Or, Are races radically distinct, or, if not, to what degree do
they resemble each other?

(d) INTERRELATION.— Is each race culturally dependent, and
to what degree, on preceding and co-existing races? Does
each race constitute the cultural condition, and to what degree,
of co-existing and succeeding races? Or what other cultural
relation does it bear to preceding, co-existing, and succeeding
races ?

(e) EXTREMES.— What is the result of examining each civili-
sation from its one or more earliest, to its one or more later,
stages? Or, Have white people always been superior? If not,
for what period have they been superior, equal, or inferior to
non-whites? Which white and non-white peoples, and where
and when, were the first to be more or less highly civilised?
And how far have the earliest to latest white civilisations been
independent of or dependent on non-white civilisations, and
vice versa?

(/) DEGREE. — Do differences of degree relating to superior-
ity, race, or whiteness, make any fundamental or what differ-
ence to the conceptions underlying these terms, and are the
differences connected by a chain of degrees ? Or, Are all men
of one capacity, one race, and one colour, only differing, owing
to circumstances, in unimportant anatomical details, in being
lighter and darker, and in quantity of culture assimilated accord-
ing to opportunities? Or are the differences absolute and due
to heredity? In which case, what is the origin of the differ-
ences, and how far can they be deliberately produced? Or
are the differences relative and traceable to the environment?
In which case, what is the origin of the differences, and how
far can they be deliberately produced?

1 See Conclusions 16-24.

SECTION 20— STUDIES PREPARATORY TO ALL INVESTIGATIONS. 219

(g) EXPERIMENT.— By gradually and proportionately with-
drawing from, and also bestowing on, individuals or groups of
different races, educational, economic, social, and other ad-
vantages or disadvantages, do we find, as a consequence, that
the races do or do not differ substantially or appreciably in
intelligence, morals, or practical capacity? Or, What is the
effect of an excellent upbringing and schooling on members of
a race supposedly very backward and of corresponding neglect
on members of a race supposedly very advanced, or of the
same good or bad nurture on the several races?

(h) MODALITY.— What is the precise distribution and posi-
tion in space and time of each race and civilisation ? What are
the numbers and the divisions of each race and the intensity
of influence of every part of each civilisation on the others?
What of the precise pure, average, casual, momentary, time-
produced, environment-produced, transitional, exceptional, ab-
normal, perfect, and imperfect states of each race and civili-
sation? What do we learn by examining the evolution, origin,
history, development, influence, and transformation or dissolu-
tion of each alleged race and its civilisation? What of the
precise degree of more or less permanent idiosyncrasy, ab-
normality, mental confusion, ignorance, error, prejudice, and
deception of the inquirer and of those who have previously
ventured on statements concerning the subject?

(/) DIALECTICS.— What is revealed to us by searching for
facts possibly contradictory, contrary, opposite, etc., to those
alleged to exist in or between races or divisions of races in
respect of moral, intellectual, and practical superiority?

(/) COMPARISON.— What appears to be the degree of the
resemblance or difference of the compared races and their
component parts, if we observe them under profusely varied
conditions of space and time including conditions most similar
and dissimilar? Or, Are there any or many white peoples or
individuals on the same plane as, or on a lower or higher
plane than, non- white peoples or individuals? (Note, so far as
features are concerned, preponderating resemblance of Austra-
lian, Ainu, Dravidian, and Veddas, to Caucasians.) Are there
any or many non-white peoples or individuals on the same
plane as, or on a lower or higher plane than, white peoples
or individuals?

Finally, following the first table of the Primary Categories,
we ask : What are the material aspects — the precise Elementals,
Constituents, Form, Dependence, Action, Cause, Resemblances,
Classification, Position, Differentiae, Details, etc., suggested by
a circumspect preliminary investigation embracing the process
of observation?

220 PART IV.— PREPARATORY STAGE.

Third and Fourth Stage. — Generalisation and Interim Statement. '

§ 95. After prolonged sifting of the chaff from the wheat,
and after applying the necessary generalising and verifying
methods indicated in Conclusions 25 to 29, we clarify our thought
by formulating, for instance, the interim statement that man is
the sole specio-psychic being, or, less tersely, that man is the
sentient being which, for satisfying its needs, primarily depends
on species-developed and environmentally preserved culture;
or, more exhaustively, that what differentiates man most truly
is that the necessary means for adequately gratifying his needs
are, in a growingly satisfactory form, provided — not, as in
animals, by instinct, by individual intelligence, by learning a
few things from neighbouring members of the same species,
by incidental traditions, by group co-operation, or by a com-
bination of several or of all of the just enumerated means,
but — by the steadily increasing collection of material and other
inventions and discoveries made and developed through the
ages by his species as a whole and transmitted traditionally or
environmentally from generation to generation. In more formal
terms: Man most nearly resembles the mammals belonging to
the order Primates, and is specially distinguished from (a) the
other Primates, by his completely erect posture and higher
development of extremities and brain, and from (b) all animals,
including the Primates, by his mode of life being a cumulative
and environmentally preserved species-product, that is, by his
depending, instead of on almost entirely inherited means and
methods for satisfying his desires, on in substance species-
discovered, invented, adapted, and improved means and methods
environmentally preserved.

These definitions satisfy the important canon (§ 110) which
requires that a whole subject should be summed up in one
brief statement wherever possible; but, to be of no uncertain
value, the main implications of the definition should be stated
for the purpose of placing ourselves in a position to test the
correctness and the importance of the definition. With a crisp
definition and a compressed deductive statement before them,
author and reader obtain a bird's-eye view which naught else
could replace, and which should be, therefore, only omitted
when extraordinary circumstances render the attempt inadvis-
able or prohibitive.

Fifth Stage.— Theoretical Deductions.-

§ 96. The interim statement reached at the fourth stage
implies: (a) Since every species of animal known (other than
man) is for all intents hereditarily determined, and in no degree

1 See Conclusions 25-30.

2 See Conclusion 31.

SECTION 20.— STUDIES PREPARATORY TO ALL INVESTIGATIONS. 221

can be species-determined, in its conduct, the mental outfit of
any member of any known animal species must be necessarily
almost infinitely poorer than that of the average human being
who, by nature just superior intellectually to his immediate
animal precursors, has assimilated the substance of the material
and other inventions and discoveries of his species past and
present. (6) Since the individual is a specio-psychic being, it
follows in the first place that his connection with the rest of
his species in space and time cannot manifestly be through
biological heredity, and must therefore necessarily be through
post-natal communication ; that such communication must express
the thoughts of others, and that these thoughts can be only trans-
mitted through some external medium and represent material
and other inventions and discoveries embodied in material and
mental tools and tool-made products; that each of the hundreds of
millions of individuals, allowing for favourable and other circum-
stances, pours his modest contribution into the common reservoir
of thoughts, as a consequence of which there ensues historically
a colossal growth and improvement of material and other tool
and tool-made products until the first cultural attempts of men
are almost infinitely transcended in scope and effectiveness ;
that circumstances being of such crucial importance, and the
single individual having such indifferent power of advancing
beyond what has been accomplished, the extremes of culture
and non-culture, errors innumerable, and serious cultural leak-
ages, will be found in the species until a very high state of
cultural, and consequent closely co-operative, development is
reached ; that, generally stated, human life is potentially to-day
of necessity almost infinitely richer, more varied, more pro-
gressive, more interdependent, and more perfect in regard to
peoples and ages than the life of any animal species, and that
this difference will be proportionately accentuated with the
flight of time; that since man depends on culture, since cul-
ture is constituted of material and mental tool-made tools and
their products, and since all men can benefit by this culture
and augment it, it seems irresistibly to follow that the indivi-
dual will, historically and broadly speaking, gradually come to
be culturally connected with the species as a whole, i.e., the
individual, on the side of his mentality, irresistibly develops
into a species-reflecting being, from which conclusion, again, all
the preceding and succeeding characteristics follow, (c) Since
the civilised state is an environmental datum, a human being,
if left to himself, or left with others who are completely un-
cultured, would not be appreciably more cultured than are any
of the other highly intelligent animals (vide [a]), (d) Man, be-
cause he is a specio-psychic being, is, in propitious circum-
stances, capable of assimilating virtually the substance of any
civilisation however advanced (making hypothetical allowance
for a few insignificant tribes), (e) Since man's self-culturability

222 PART IV- -PREPARATORY STAGE.

is virtually zero (vide [c]), and his capacity for being cultured
is virtually infinite (vide [of]), there is virtually an infinite dis-
tance between the minimally and the maximally cultured man,
and consequently any differences between any two individuals
in respect of being cultured (Zulu in his Kraal, University
Professor in his Chair), are traceable first and foremost to the
circumstances in which they are placed, which is equivalent
to stating that human beings are, by birth and because they
are mentally species-dependent beings, almost infinitely more
like than unlike each other morally, intellectually, and practi-
cally. (/) It follows from (e) that the stock of humanity's moral
and other acquisitions, divided by the number of human beings
who have lived, positing the actual physical and cultural con-
ditions, virtually yields the latent capacity of the individual to
contribute to the stock of human acquisitions, and that, con-
versely, the quantity of effort put forth by one individual,
under the above conditions, multiplied by the number of human
beings who have lived, virtually yields the stage of culture
reached, (g) Since culture, as species-developed, is necessarily
a product of many minds and many ages (vide [/]), it is of
vital importance for each generation to preserve, adapt, im-
prove, and increase the stock of humanity's material and other
inventions and discoveries, which process, seeing the weakness
and the fallibility of the unaided human individual (vide [c]),
must be, in advancing stages, normally performed, so far as
non-material objects are concerned, by means of collective and
separate customs and institutions — economic, educational, moral,
religious, legal, political, scientific, literary, artistic, etc. (h) Since
man is adapted for the specio-psychically determined state, he
lives exclusively and necessarily in that state and is unfit for
any other, which does not however preclude that in certain
departments of life man does live almost wholly still on the
animal stage — that is, without the help of pan-species culture
(vide [/]). (/) Being primarily adapted for the specio-psychically
determined state, man is only truly himself when he is truly
cultured, and is the more himself the more he is cultured, be-
ing ideally himself when he is ideally cultured. (/) Being only
truly himself when he is truly cultured (vide [/]), he naturally
tends, if not discouraged, to improve the state of culture which
surrounds Mm, and cannot rest till the stage of culture becomes
in every respect ideal. (A) Since man ultimately aims at an
ideal state of civilisation (vide [/]), and since civilisation ignores
territorial limits, he ultimately aims at an ideally organised
universal civilisation and universal fellowship. (/) Since man
is by nature culturable, but not cultured, he does not, apart
from science, know that he is culturable, nor that he should
not depend on unenlightened instinct or passing reflections;
he therefore frequently entertains erroneous notions pertaining
to his essential nature, thinking that he is acting as a cultured

SECTION 20.— STUDIES PREPARATORY TO ALL INVESTIGATIONS. 223

being when he is not, that he exercises control over himself
when he is really controlled by his impulses, that he is satis-
fying his true nature when he is not, and that he can rely on
his native capacity for guidance when this does not lift him
above the animal stage. (772) Innate appetites, instincts, feel-
ings, etc., are not distinctively human qualities, and are there-
fore excluded from our conception of man so far as cultured,
and, since man is indefinitely culturable (vide [rf]), it follows
that the enormous pressure of species-produced culture, when
concentrated, is capable of overcoming any resistance that
might conceivably be offered by man's sub-human nature. And,
(/?) the further humanising and socialising of man's nature,
consequent primarily on the growth of culture, with, later, the
aid of artificial biological selection, will lead to the educational
process meeting eventually with progressively fewer obstacles
and becoming therefore progressively less arduous.

To summarise. Our interim statement involves that, since
culture is a progressive pan-human product, humanity is capable
of achieving in the course of the ages virtually everything, the
individual as such virtually nothing; and, accordingly, our theo-
retical aim is satisfied when we learn that all moral, intellectual,
and practical distinctions between peoples or persons are, for
all intents, due to specie-cultural, and not to inborn, causes.

Sixth Stage. — Practical Deductions.1

§ 97. Our task is not complete, our truth is only a partial
one, until we have formulated the practical deductions suggested
by the interim statement. Some of these we shall now proceed
to enumerate.

1. Society. — The growth of species-determined culture pre-
supposes incessant contact and collaboration between indivi-
duals, and this involves increasingly co-operating and organised
societies, the process tending towards a universal civilisation
and a universal organised fellowship. The cardinal importance
of Societies is therefore self-evident, and anarchist and extreme
individualist theories are thereby disproved.

2. Equality. — The men and women in a community are, by
definition, capable of assimilating, in favourable circumstances,
the substance of any civilisation known to us. They should
all therefore have the opportunity of living a life commensurate
with their capacity of enjoyment and work. Consequently —

(a) All social, political, and other discriminations based on
family, on sex, on class, on caste, on nationality, or on race,
disregarding as they do the fact that man is first and foremost
a cultural being, should be abolished;

1 See Conclusion 32.

224 PART IV.— PREPARATORY STAGE.

(b) All individuals, being for all purposes equally dependent
on pan-human culture, should command identical opportunities
of developing, labouring, and living;

(c) The needs of specie-cultural beings being intrinsically
similar, one general standard of living should obtain, conse-
quently one standard for reward of services;

(rf) One unchanging moral standard should be applied to all
individuals and groups of individuals— equal kindness, courtesy,
consideration, respect, etc., though this does not preclude paying
most, but not exclusive, attention to the nearest duties (our home,
vocation, country), and being guided by the actual requirements
of others;

(e) The sexes being equally dependent on pan-human culture,
self-respect demands that marriage should be monogamic and
that both partners shall share authority equally; and

(/) Social advance should depend on the well-directed and
well-organised individual efforts of the many rather than on
the activities of a capriciously selected or favoured few — that
is, the spirit of democracy should dominate all human inter-
relations.

3. Education. — Culture being the measure of man, we should
provide for its assimilation by each and all, and hence it follows
that thorough home and school education for all — moral, intellec-
tual, hygienic, aesthetic, and vocational — is indispensable, and
that it is a primary social necessity to perfect the educational
ends and the methods of educating teachers and children.

4. Science. — Since abundance of sifted knowledge, combined
with deliberate collective thought, are man's distinguishing
weapon, and since all wholly or partially instinctive or indivi-
dual methods of dealing with general problems are pre-human
because not pan-human, science should be man's guiding genius
in all departments of life and thought.

(a) This involves that the desire for attaining strength, health,
happiness, and the satisfaction of appetites and impulses, should
be determined by ideas enlightened by science — ideas which
would urge the implanting of the love of the good, the true,
the hygienic, and the beautiful, as well as the development of
a joyous temperament, and would, it is probable, rule out as
superfluous luxury, intoxicants, narcotics, gambling, playing for
stakes or otherwise than rarely, substantial dependence of
happiness on amusements, and would certainly condemn as
brutish unchastity in the unmarried and infidelity in marriage.

(b) It equally involves, on the social side, that all war,
rewards and punishments, unfriendly words and deeds, uncriti-
cal assignment of motives, anger, scolding, ridicule, indulgence,
coaxing, bribery, and argumentation are unwise and ineffective
when applied to personal, social, national, international, inter-
racial, and other human relations, and should be replaced by
methods resulting from scientific study, which counsel the ex-

SECTION 20.- STUDIES PREPARATORY TO ALL INVESTIGATIONS. 225

elusive application of rules of conduct of the type mentioned
in paragraph 10 below.

Other deductions are:—

(c) home education, like school education, should have its
roots in science;

(rf) the relationship between the two partners in marriage
should, besides love, manifest mutual understanding, respect,
forbearance, assistance, and companionship, and be illumined
by science;

(e) vocations should be grounded in science and should be
scientifically acquired and pursued, and the love of good
workmanship and of incessant improvement should displace
thoughtlessness and the love of routine;

(/) the public services — which are visibly growing in im-
portance year by year — should be re-organised, root and branch,
on a scientific and, inferentially, democratic basis;

(g) speculative thought should be discouraged, except where
it ensues on carefully ascertained facts;

(h) the best thought being a product of the slow growth of
culture, the utmost should be attempted to discover and
inculcate the soundest rules for the conduct of the human
understanding ; and

(/) whilst it is true that without appetites, impulses, and
organs, action is impossible, it is knowledge alone which creates
man's superiority, even in respect of generating breadth and
depth of feeling, and a puissant and unshakeable will.

5. Co-operation. — If science is indispensable in every depart-
ment of life, co-operation is no less necessary, for since cul-
ture is a species-product, this implies that there can be no
science without the widest co-operation, and that all that
humanity has achieved has been through co-operation. Con-
sequently, co-operation is a requisite in every department of
thought and action, in the humblest as in the highest spheres,
in vocational, social, national, and international affairs, in the
inner life of the individual, and between generation and gene-
ration. Hence : —

(a) Co-operation in science and in the economic life, and
thoroughly democratic and democratically organised govern-
ments and institutions, are requirements;

6) Modesty, broadmindedness, appreciation of other persons
and peoples, and readiness to learn and serve, as well as
virility, originality, initiative, enterprise, and the fixed resolve
to add a full quota to the achievements of others, should stamp
all individuals and groups of individuals;

(c) Since social conditions, according to this trend, represent
the most potent incentives and impediments to the growth of
culture in any community, they demand the closest collective
attention — more especially they require sanitation and education,
the humanisation of the law, democratic rule, friendship among

15

226 PART IV— PREPARATORY STAGE.

nations and races, and liberal insurance against illness, incapa-
city, invalidity, unemployment, old age, and inadequate incomes ;
and

(d) International co-operation is destined to play a notable
part in the future. This may express itself mainly in the
adoption of a universal form of speech, writing, and printed
characters, to promote and symbolise the unity of the race;
in the acceptance of universal measures, coins, post, telegraph,
scientific and economic terminologies and units, and rule of
conduct; in building roads, railways, canals, air-stations, etc.,
to connect conveniently every part of the world ; in encourag-
ing international free-trade, institutions, organisations, and
bureaus; and in establishing an International Legislature,
Judiciary, and Administration to decide on justice, and to pro-
mote common action, between the nations of the world.

(e) The most intimate form of co-operation should be offered
by the home, and should be exemplified therein. Here are
two individuals, almost infinitely alike and yet infinitely differ-
ent, who may strengthen themselves to an incalculable degree
by becoming one for life. Furthermore, they may devote them-
selves in common to the incomparable task of rearing worthy,
healthy, and happy offspring — a task which only loving and
constant attention on the part of those most nearly concerned
can competently perform.

6. Institutions. — If science and co-operation are essentials,
the necessity of storing in some manner the accumulations of
the past becomes evident. Hence institutions and their equi-
valents are of inestimable value, among the most important of
which should be counted the institutions of Government, Law,
Marriage, Religion, Arms (in earlier stages), Seats of Learning
and Schools, Trades and Professions, Organisations for reform
and for industrial, charitable, recreative, medical, intellectual,
and other purposes, Libraries, Museums and Galleries, Sciences,
Arts and Crafts, Classics, Text-books, etc. Indeed, institutions,
or more or less fixed collective aids, are to social advance what
the family is to the perpetuation of the species, and the social
reformer should have therefore his energies directed first and
foremost to the improvement of institutions.

7. Conservation and Conservatism. — Since any one generation
can add but little to the accumulated treasures of the past, it
behoves us, almost above all things, to conserve the substance
of what has been transmitted to us by our ancestors, and not
to accede lightly to the suggestion of changing the present
order or wastefully exhausting the treasures of the earth or
of culture.

8. Progress.— However, since culture no more originates than
ceases with the day and since strict adherence to the principle
of conservatism would have kept man in the lowest savage
state, progress should be perennially aimed at in all depart-

SECTION 20.— STUDIES PREPARATORY TO ALL INVESTIGATIONS. 227

ments of life and thought and in all institutions. The past,
present, and future represent the one flowing and growing
stream of culture.

9. Perfection. — Since man ultimately seeks to do justice to
human nature as a whole, his aim is to accelerate the creation
of the complete or perfect man, the man in whom — and, by
implication, the world in which — is realised the perfect, i.e.,
the good, the true, the hygienic, and the beautiful combined.

10. Rules of Conduct and Action. — Enlightened men and women
will necessarily manifest in all relationships of life a profound
fellow-feeling and self-reverence, guided by fullest information
and circumspect reasoning, accompanied by geniality and tact,
and intelligently realised by a strenuous and firm-bent will
which is inspired by the desire to serve the good of humanity.

11. Supreme End and Sense of Oneness. — Since the individual
is only fully himself when fully cultured intellectually, physi-
cally, morally, and aesthetically, his supreme end is to become
highly cultured, and, by implication, to promote the cause of
culture until the all-comprehensive ideal of goodness, truth,
radiant health, and beauty, is attained; and since, moreover,
culture is in its essence an expression of the whole of humanity
past and present, his inmost thought and being, when truly
himself, feels itself one with humanity and identifies itself
necessarily and passionately with the life and good of mankind.

12. Fundamentals. — All life, of whatever kind, seeks to
maintain, adapt, and expand itself, besides tending to develop
to higher forms. Accordingly, the prime object and test of
culture is harmoniously to maintain, perpetuate, adapt, expand,
and develop the life of humanity as a whole. It is true that
the fundamental needs of the higher animals are to be found in
man, but in man the manner of their satisfaction is determined
primarily by historically developed species-culture instead of
primarily by inherited predispositions and organs.

Seventh Stage. — Classification of Data.1

§ 98. Note.— The peoples and individuals of to-day differ conspicuously
in the stage of cultural development which they exhibit ; but this diversity
must be accidental, since, as recent educational experience and recent history
show, this stage is indefinitely raised and lowered by cultural circumstances.
It should be also noted in connection with the subjoined analysis that whilst
progress grows through the ages, it is not by any means unintermittent or
uniform in space.

1. — Family (from quasi- animal families without fixed abode,
through » polygamy, polyandry, and other phases), to fully or-
ganised monogamic family with home for centre (relations be-
tween children, parents, and other kindred; courtship; finding
means of subsistence for family, etc.).

1 See Conclusion 33.

15*

228 PAR T 1 V.—PREPARA TORY STAGE.

With the family should be correlated its environment, con-
sisting of

(a) Human Neighbours (from individual to clan, tribe, and to
all peoples, including travel, residence, and study abroad), Ac-
quaintances and Friends, also Voluntary Associations for local
and specialist purposes to International and Inter-Specialist
Organisations ;

(6) Animal Neighbours (wild animals — useful, useless, and
dangerous to man, domesticated animals, and animals as pets,
friends, and fellow-beings);

(c) Plant Neighbours (wild plants — useful, useless, and danger-
ous to man and to agriculture, frugiculture, horticulture, and
arboriculture) ;

(d) Inanimate Neighbours (soil, air, water, sky, etc., to na-
tural and transformed materials and forces utilised by man).

The product of family life, the child and adolescent, must
receive some kind of education, for men's abilities are derived
first and foremost from learning, that is, from education and
from tradition1; hence:—

2. Education of children ; acquisition of vocation ; later, histori-
cally, schools to universities, and life-long study and research.

With the family should be connected the

3. Community. — More or less loosely organised families in
small hordes: later, clan; later still, growing and co-operating
territorial groups of mostly unrelated families, until Continent
State and World State are reached.

And with the community should be correlated:—

4. Governments (through occasional Chieftain to Imperial
Dynasty and to democratically elected President, and from
Headman to Nobility and to a pure educated Democracy), dis-
placing customs more and more (legislative, legal, administrative,
productive, protective, and aggressive features of Government),
to Parliament of Nations, International Court of Justice, Inter-
national State Services, and Universal Official Bureaus of Labour,
Communications, Motive Power, Science, Art, etc.

The attitude towards others in the community should be well
defined; hence:—

5. Customs (manner of living; then also manners; and, at
first, customs as general method of preserving past acquisitions) ;
from manners based on customs, finally, through intermediate
stages, to

(a) Love of humanity as the supreme standard of conduct

1 Professor F. H. Giddings thus sums up the various classes of traditions :
"The primary traditions are: the economic, or the tradition of utilisation;
the juridical, or the tradition of toleration; and the political, or the tradition
of alliance, homage, and obedience. . . . The secondary traditions are: the
animistic or personal, the Besthetic, and the religious. . . . The tertiary tradi-
tions are: the theological, the metaphysical, and the scientific." (The Prin-
ciples of Sociology, 1896, p. 141.)

SECTION 20.— STUDIES PREPARATORY TO ALL INVESTIGATIONS. 229

for all, and feeling of oneness with humanity and then with
all living things and the Universe; and

(b) The whole of the life of humanity organised by science,
with the assistance of art, pursuant to the dictates of morality
and to the needs of man's complex nature generally.

Man's universal tool — language — was the condition to all
extensive collaboration and advance. Hence:—

6. Language (growth from numberless tongues at first barely
surpassing animal cries, to, finally, one universal form of simpli-
fied and scientised language — speech, writing, and printing).

Life means unintermittent metabolism of energy. Therefore
labour — chiefly the expenditure of energy in order to maintain
energy — is inevitable for man, as for all living creatures. Hence:—

7. Labour (General, e.g., hunting; Special, e.g., making of
tools or shelters, to minute specialisation in processes, functions,
and localities, relating eventually and mainly to food and health,
garments, buildings and furniture, materials, lingual and mate-
rial modes of intercommunication, supply of raw material
energies, and machinery, and government, law, and education).

(a) Living on own work; robbing, enslaving, oppressing, ex-
ploiting, or employing others; co-operating more and more, to
occasional and organised inter-individual, civic, national, and
international co-operation ;

(b) Property, as mainly Land, Buildings, and Furniture, and
Raw and Manufactured Products ; and Grades of Producers and
Middlemen (gradually developing from chaotic private property
and private enterprise to property and enterprise in the service
of the organised common good);

(c) Collective Migrations (to follow game, escape enemies,
find fresh pasture land, settle in conquered territories, improve
status, etc.); later, Individual and, perhaps, Collective Emigration;

(rf) Means of Communication (commencing with beaten tracks
and human carriers, and developing into roads, canals, navi-
gated rivers and seas, tunnels and bridges, landcraft, water-
craft, and aircraft, postal and telegraphic communication, the
press, reports, and books, etc.);

(e) Internal Industries and Commerce (or division of labour
within clan or tribe, etc.) to world-wide Industries and Com-
merce, involving

(/) Means of Exchange (developing from barter to coins,
bank-notes, cheques, credit, etc.);

(g) Rude Products to (1) Products all instinct with beauty,
concluding in every vocation being enthused with the spirit of
art; and to (2) Products of the highest quality, serving only
the good, the true, the hygienic, and the beautiful.

There should be some relaxation from toil. Hence:—

8. Leisure — Daily, weekly, annual, and other periods of rest.
Children's play ; later, adults' games and festivities ; songs and
stories ; dance and music ; poetry, theatre, history, and literature

230 PART IV. —PREPARATORY STAGE.

generally; travel' and leisure pursuits or hobbies; and delight
in intimate converse with one's fellows and with nature, issu-
ing in —

9. Art generally, and the eventual penetration and beautifying
of all spheres of life by the love and the realisation of the
beautiful.

In life's turmoil, body and mind are apt to lose their equi-
poise. Hence :—

10. Medicine and Hygiene (sanitation, diet, recreation, birth,
illness, burial), leading to the triumphs of surgery and sanitation,
of preventive medicine of the body and of the mind, and of
hygiene, and finally to hygienic living, and a race sturdy in
mind and body.

The attitude towards the master problems of life and towards
the Universe should be also defined. Hence:—

11. Religion — later, with priests, temples, and religious houses
and organisations (philosophy of life and existence, nature,
fabled under- and over-world, death and all great occasions of
life, holy days, and supposed mysterious influences), developing
from almost pure superstition to almost a pure humanism
grounded on a scientifically based philosophy of life, and leading
also to —

12. Philosophising, or speculative thought, because of lack
and confusion of data; thence to gradual evolution of—

13. Science, theoretical and applied, specialised and cosmic,
and growingly reasoned love of goodness, nature, art, health,
strenuousness, and joy.

A classification such as the above subserves various ends:—

(a) It aids in focusing a complicated issue having innumer-
able minor aspects;

(b) It presents a conspectus of the main facts;

(c) It demonstrates the truth of progress;

(d) It shows this progress commencing almost at a zero point ;
developing slowly through the ages to a remarkably high degree ;
and promising to evolve further, along old and new lines;

(e) It implies that culture is the outcome of pan-species
thought, and that the individual contributes only an infini-
tesimal proportion of the total culture;

(/) Moreover, the process of the education of children, of
adults, and of peoples, involves that culture is post-natally
acquired.

(g\ (h), etc., etc.

Eighth Stage.— Final Statement.1

§ 99. Lest the enquiry should degenerate into a confusion
of detail, we strive to embody the total results in a single
formula, theoretical and practical. This formula may be con-

1 See Conclusion 34.

SECTION 20.-STUDIES PREPARATORY TO ALL INVESTIGATIONS. 231

ceived as follows: Man is the sentient being which primarily
depends on species-developed and environmentally preserved
culture for satisfying its needs; and since this is his leading
differentia, he must aim at making universally prevalent: the
highest degree of the good, the true, the hygienic, and the
beautiful, at treating all men as culturally equal by nature and
capable of the highest and best, and at transforming the whole
of mankind into an organic unity.1

Ninth Stage.— Report:2

§ 100. As pointed out in Conclusion 2, the object of the
investigation can only be said to be properly attained when it
is duly, clearly, and attractively reported on. For this reason,
careful attention should be paid to the report, and this we
assume to be accomplished in accordance with the suggestions
submitted in Conclusion 35.

Having completed our enquiry, which was undertaken with
the object of ascertaining the comparative intellectual, moral,
and practical capacities of white and non-white races, we con-
clude that the cultural differences in races, nations, classes,
families, individuals, and sexes, are to be traced first and fore-
most to cultural causes, and that life should be organised on
this assumption.

II.— SECOND ILLUSTRATION.3

§ 101. Consider a second example. We feel that our know-
ledge concerning our sensations is incomplete, and we desire
accordingly to inquire into the matter. Thinking the subject
over from the most comprehensive point of view after having
conducted a full and ample preliminary investigation, we ad-
vance the provisional and most convenient and obvious hypo-
thesis methodologically that fundamentally there exists but one
class of sensation. By casting our net so wide, we are pre-
pared for every contingency, though it generally appears, as
we proceed in an investigation, that our provisional hypothesis
needs to be radically modified. Every class of statement estab-
lished has, of course, its independent value, and we consult
naturally authoritative scientific works on the theme of our
enquiry.

We commence with a somewhat exhaustive examination and
record of the normal features of each surmised class of sen-
sations (following more especially Conclusions 19, 20, and 3,
and § 45), and are helped to augment the list by noting whether

1 See Conclusion 34 for fuller statement concerning the distinctive nature
of man.

2 See Conclusion 35.

3 In this and the following illustrations, the course of investigation is
only roughly sketched. In practice the form proposed in the preceding
Illustration might be perhaps universally applied.

232 PART IV— PREPARATORY STAGE.

the features of one sense are not also features of one or more
of the other senses.

We inquire what features the various classes of sensations
possess in common, and what is the degree of the resemblance.

We strive to discover new classes of sensations.

We endeavour, following Conclusion 17, to divide each of
the classes of sensations into a number of classes of sensations,
and we also seek to show that several or all the reputed classes
of sensations fall under one head.

We examine into the elementary facts of any and every class
of sensations (ignoring, for the moment, memory, etc.), and deter-
mine, following Conclusions 20 and 19, that (a) there is present
a stimulus of a particular degree and character persisting for
an appreciable period of time ; that (b) the mind is not wholly
preoccupied, and is therefore affected and consequently reacts;
that (c) the mind must react continuously for a perceptible space
of time; that (d) the memory needs to be enlisted for the pur-
pose of classing the sensation or experience; and that (e) this
implies an attempt at judging and co-ordinating.

We search for instances where several sensations are sensed
simultaneously (as in eating an orange: temperature, touch,
smell, taste, sound, effort, and pain), beginning with two sen-
sations and gradually increasing their number.

We endeavour to examine sensations at their minimum inten-
sity or clearness (as seeing with eyes approximately or wholly
closed) with a view to determining any likeness between sen-
sations, and we examine sensations when minimally or margi-
nally attended to.

We examine more or less highly developed and intense sen-
sations, and from maximum to minimum, and vice versa.

We examine whether others' sensations are fundamentally
identical with ours, and whether youth, age, etc., or diverse
races or periods of history, create any difference, and, if so,
the degree of the difference.

We examine, following Conclusion 20, first the least obscure
sensations, such as sight and sound.

We examine into human activities which are apparently or
relatively unaccompanied by sensations, including automatic and
reflex actions, and impulses, and minimal sensations when the
attention bestowed on them is imperceptible.

We examine, later, into the nature of pleasure-pain, of the
appetites, of internal sensations generally, of the emotions, and
whatever other experiences of this character are distinguishable.

We examine, later still, into the nature of the memory.

We examine, last, into the processes of systematic feeling,
thinking, willing, etc.

We then complete our enquiry as in illustration I.1

1 Mill assumes throughout his Logic that the various senses or classes of
sensations are ultimate in character and irreducible. Accordingly, he claims

SECTION 20.— STUDIES PREPARATORY TO ALL INVESTIGATIONS. 233
III.— THIRD ILLUSTRATION.

§ 102. In the process of inhaling laughing gas, I accidentally
injure my knee, and observe that the injury is not accompanied
by pain, as would be normally the case. Assuring myself by
varied experiments that laughing gas produces this anaesthetic
effect, I conclude provisionally that all bodily pain may be thus
overcome, and that laughing gas, or some perhaps even more
effective gas, or other substance, should be administered in all
dental and surgical operations and wherever there is pain diffi-
cult to endure. I proceed then with the investigation on estab-
lished methodological lines, following strictly Conclusion 3.

/. — Material Aspects.

1. We inquire what appeal nitrous oxide makes to the sen-
ses— to sight, touch, effort, pain, hearing, taste, smell, and heat.
Also what feelings its presence or inhalation engenders, or what
is its effect on the will and the intelligence. Finally, whether
it is only indirectly apprehensible.

2. We inquire into the nature of the constituents of the gas.

3. We inquire into its form.

4. We inquire into the precise special facts and factors in
the environment on which the gas more or less depends for
its existence.

5. We make a study of its precise effects.

6. We trace the cause of its existence and properties.

7. We then consider the relation of laughing gas to other
anaesthetics.

8. We ascertain the points wherein it resembles other an-
aesthetics.

9. We classify the facts pertaining to laughing gas, and then
place the gas under a more comprehensive classification.

10. We determine the comparative position of laughing gas
among anaesthetics.

11. We inquire into the major and minor differentiae of
laughing gas.

12. And we consider the secondary aspects or details.
We take into account then the practical side:—

13. We inquire into the hygienic, economic, moral, aesthetic,
scientific, philosophical, and other, value of nitrous oxide.

14. We consider the problems involved in its utilisation,
application, and production.

15. And we consider men's subjective attitude towards it — their
like or dislike thereof.

that "the ultimate Laws of Nature cannot possibly be less numerous than
the distinguishable sensations or other feelings of our nature". (Bk. 3,
ch. 14, § 2.) In reasoning thus he begs the question, for the various sensations
are most probably complexes, and therefore neither ultimate nor irreducible.

234 PART IV.— PREPARATORY STAGE.

16. Lastly, we prepare a report summarising the enquiry, and,
in doing so, respect the principles enunciated on the subject in
Conclusion 35.

II.— Modal Aspects.

In seeking to ascertain the Material Aspects, we endeavour
to do full justice to what is suggested by the Modal Aspects.

1. Matters relating to time, space, and consciousness require
to be determined in detail, according to the table.

2. The degree of static and dynamic facts and factors need
to be studied.

3. The pure, average, casual, momentary, time-produced,
environment-produced, individual, transitional, exceptional, im-
perfect, perfect, and abnormal states should be taken into con-
sideration.

4. The changes undergone should not be overlooked.

5. And the personal equation should not escape attention.

III.— Procedure Aspects.

1. We must be clear regarding the problem under investigation.

2. There should be accurate, minute, and, if possible, experi-
mental examination, under the most varied conditions of space,
time, and other circumstances, and immediate and scrupulous
recording of results.

3. We require alertness, in order not to miss obscure, un-
obtrusive, and exceptional facts.

4. We shall apply the day-to-day rule and other rules, the
simplest practicable case, and what we have learnt as to the
testing of divisions.

5. Conclusions 27 and 28, relating to degree determination
and dialectical procedure, will be followed.

6. We shall strive after luminous clearness and decided defi-
niteness in thinking.

7. We shall do methodically full justice to the collected rules
referring to generalisation, deduction, and application.

8. Lastly, we shall not forget systematic verification, classifi-
cation, balanced interim and final statements, and a lucid report.

By following the threefold method above suggested, we en-
sure a comprehensive and thorough investigation of any subject,
and this without excessive reliance on fortuitously arisen ideas
and without colossal waste of time and energy, as is commonly
the case. Familiarity with the contents of the volume would
soon render recourse to it almost unnecessary.

IV.— FOURTH ILLUSTRATION.

§ 103. In sundry other series of enquiries a large provi-
sional hypothesis might be also formulated after adequate pre-
liminary examination, although there may be as a rule no hope

SECTION 20.— STUDIES PREPARATORY TO ALL INVESTIGATIONS. 235

of any one person contributing more than a trifle towards its
being tested or established. Consider the case of telegraphy.
Already Galileo, in 1632, spoke of a method of conversing at
long distances by means of the sympathy of magnetic needles.
So little, however, was then known about electricity that it is
difficult to conceive his propounding any large provisional hypo-
thesis. When, however, many facts had been collected on the
subject of electricity, as at the dawn of the nineteenth century,
the idea of developing such a hypothesis came within the realm
of the practical. Wheatstone might have proposed the hypo-
thesis that a telegraphic system covering the entire globe was
feasible, and even have argued that telegraphy should include
telephony and the electric transference of designs, both with
wires and without, and much else pertaining to heat, light,
electricity, magnetism, and chemistry.1 Such a working hypo-
thesis, if passably correct, would have insured the invention of
appropriate instruments with the least possible delay. However,
so complicated are the issues involved here that one man cannot
contribute much towards clarifying them. In agreement with
this we are bound to postulate in almost all the master inven-
tions and discoveries a successive series of workers gradually
bringing to relative perfection a particular theory, each man
being well informed in the subject and starting where his pre-
decessors left their task. In these circumstances, the discoverer's
or inventor's path is largely determined for him, and he need
only remember to formulate the largest practicable provisional
hypothesis and to explore his theme systematically, as proposed
in the First Illustration.

§ 104. If we scrutinise the labours of the most eminent
discoverers in biology, chemistry, or physics, we remark in each
case both the wide range of their learning and the magnificent
scope of their efforts. Basing themselves on the ripest work
of their predecessors, they seek to extend, to re-cast, and further
to systematise it, whilst perfecting the traditional methods.
They display also a keen interest in the sister sciences, for these
may suggest novel lines of enquiry. The primary method is,
therefore, to "follow your leaders", and be as comprehensive,
thorough, and bold as they. The Conclusions submitted in this
treatise are designed to form a guide to this end. Even so,
however, no startling results may be anticipated, no final settling
of any capital issue which has not been mainly settled already
by other men. (Conclusion 5.) Concerning the mere detail in
any science or enquiry, it is doubtful whether much of such
detail exists for the trained inquirer; but granted that colossal

1 A case of such daring is to be found in Jacques Loeb's works, who
suggests that the theory of tropisms, almost certainly applicable to the
simplest organisms, may also be applied to the highest organisms including
man. Scientific examination will either partly or wholly confirm or confute
this theory.

236 PART V— WORKING STAGE.

problems may be out of reach, let them be as extensive as
practicable and not as restricted as possible. (§ 166.) Detail
work is thoroughly consistent with sweeping aims; but detail
work is frequently almost wasted because it is performed in a
mechanical way, with the mind relaxed instead of tense.
Darwin's life-labours pointedly illustrate this:—

"His works are a series of models of the scientific jnethod, because of
the rare and happy combination of minute and accurate observation and
daring speculation followed by ruthless testing and pruning of his hypo-
theses. He thought it worth while to notice and penetrate into the
meaning of the most insignificant fact, and was capable of sweeping
the whole earth for evidence in support of his largest theories. He could
take the time to count twenty thousand seeds of Lythrum salicaria."
(Frank Cramer, op. cit., p. 34.) "There can be no doubt that his great
interest in apparently little things, and his efforts to make the most of
them, were due to his conviction that important things were hidden behind
them, that they were illustrations of general laws." (Ibid., pp. 47-48.)
"Perhaps one of the noblest lessons he left to the world is this — which
to him amounted to a profound, almost religious, conviction — that every
fact in nature, no matter how insignificant, every stripe of colour, every
tint of flowers, the length of an orchid's nectary, unusual height in a
plant — all the infinite variety of apparently insignificant things, is full
of significance." (Ibid., pp. 51-52.) Darwin refused to accept details at
their face value.

In view of the Conclusions which follow, and the variety of
material accumulated in the sciences, it is not necessary to pass
beyond these broad generalities when referring to the estab-
lished sciences.

PART V.
WORKING STAGE.

SECTION XXL— PRECISE NATURE OF PROBLEM TO BE
INVESTIGATED.

CONCLUSION 14.

Need of Precisely Determining the Nature of the Problem under

Investigation .

§ 105. Granting that the question which we desire to address
to nature is an admissible one (Conclusion 5) and that its
character is also such as to commend itself to the methodologist
(Conclusions 4 and 25rf), it only remains to provide that our
interrogation shall be unequivocally formulated. This may be
difficult, perhaps impossible, at the very commencement of the
enquiry. In that case, little is lost, however, if we are fully
conscious of the haze in which our conceptions are enveloped.
Many a problem only exists because it is not clearly framed,
that is, the mere proper framing not infrequently engenders
its solution. Every effort should be therefore made to devise a
formulation of the problem which shall be minimally ambiguous,

SECTION 21. —PRECISE NATURE OF PROBLEM TO BE INVESTIGA TED. 237

and which shall consequently enable us to approach its solution
with the least possible confusion and delay.

Darwin entitled his master work: "The Origin of Species".1
If he had called it "Evolution", this would have probably argued
that he either regarded evolution as restricted to life forms or
that in his opinion all evolution exhibited an exactly similar
character. Even if the title had read "The Evolution of Life",
"The Evolution of Life Forms", or "The Evolution of Species",
we should have been some distance from the plain and
exceedingly pointed question involved in the actual title. The
word "origin" implies no contentious theories, and the selection
of the term "species" brings the problem from the clouds
down to earth. Compare this title with Lamarck's "Philosophic
Zoologique", which places us at the mercy of the speculative
fancy. In otfrer words, instead of floundering in a sea of
ambiguities, Darwin's formulation puts us in a position to
defend or attack the central problem forthwith.2 No doubt, a
good title or an appropriate question is mostly the result of
protracted labours, and suggests in not a few instances that
a mass of intractable matter has been reduced to comparative
order. Such an attempt to construct a convenient formula
sometimes proves to be hopeless, and is accordingly abandoned,
whilst at other times the quasi-single problem divides into several,
or is solved in the sheer endeavour to state it with the least
obscurity of expression.

§ 106. We present another significant illustration. Capita-
lists as a class contend that they are the source of the wealth
of the world, and that the rule of the worker would spell
universal economic ruin. On the other hand, Labourists as a
class aver that the wealth of the world is produced by the
workers, and largely wasted and most unfairly distributed by
the Capitalists. To the former, Labourism denotes anarchy;
to the latter, Capitalism signifies the social dominance of un-
scrupulous exploiters. To comprehend the issue, we ought
to affix, before proceeding any further, a precise meaning to
Capitalism and Labourism. If we regard the problem statically,
from the viewpoint of the present moment, both parties appear
to be, broadly speaking, in the right. If the Labourist were
to be placed forthwith in power, the economic structure of

1 The idea cannot be said to have been entirely novel, and Wallace uses
the expression suggestively. In writing to Bates, the naturalist, he states that
he would "like to take some one family to study thoroughly, principally
with a view to the theory of the origin of species". (Quoted by Edward
Clodd, Pioneers of Evolution, 1902, p. 61.) And writing to the same cor-
respondent subsequently, he speaks of gathering facts "towards solving the
problem of the origin of species." (Ibid., p. 62.)

2 Of course, the full title was On the Origin of Species by means of
Natural Selection, or the Preservation of Favoured Races in the Struggle
for Life. Subsequently this was altered to The Origin of Species -by means
of Natural Selection.

238 PART V.— WORKING STAGE.

society would most likely collapse and drag down with it poor
and rich alike, since Capitalism is the linchpin in the economic
wheel of present-day society. At the same time, adhering to
the static view, the charge against Capitalism, of insatiable
greed, of ruthless exploitation of the masses, of appalling waste,
could not be readily rebutted ; and it is also true that, for ex-
ample, if the revenue of England for the past year could be
fairly divided between the family groups composing the country,
a tolerably adequate income, instead of a pittance, would be
assured to all.

The fact is that the vast wealth of to-day is, broadly speak-
ing, primarily the result of the enterprise, the encouragement
of inventions and discoveries, the exploitation of opportunities,
the alertness and venturesomeness, and the competitive spirit
of present-day Capitalism. Manual and clerical labour, as con-
ceived by many Labourists, would leave us in the sorry econo-
mic position of savagedom. Machinery, for instance, may enor-
mously increase the value of labour, and organisation on an
imposing scale also vitally contributes to augment possessions.
Wealth is like a spinning top which continues in its upright
position because it is kept moving. Only the short-sighted
would argue that the upright position of the top is independent
of the motion periodically imparted to it. Without the worker,
it is true, the entrepreneur would accomplish nothing; but
without the entrepreneur the productivity of the worker would
be comparatively insignificant. For instance, it is said that a
spinner now produces in a day what it would have taken his
eighteenth century forerunner a full year to produce.

However, the problem of Capitalism and Labourism is not
one peculiar to our day. To ascertain, therefore, the essential
meaning of the terms Capitalism and Labourism we must enter
more deeply into the question.

Turning to the past, we find, retrospectively, that Capitalism
may be readily divorced from enterprise and progress. At that
stage the economic value of the Capitalist was decidedly prob-
lematical, and in that case it was as nearly as possible true
that wealth is first and foremost the outcome of mechanical
labour, since enterprise, competition, and organisation were
then a minus quantity practically. On the other hand, if we
read aright the signs of our time— the growth of the efficiency
and the humanitarian movements, we perceive that the Capita-
lism of our day will almost certainly undergo radical modifi-
cation. The employer will probably come to regard himself
as an organiser, and be ready to share equitably with the
worker the wealth produced, treating him as a fellow labourer.
Cut-throat competition, pitiless exploitation, the accumulation
of riches, may well be imagined as ceasing to characterise
Capitalism. The Labourist, on the other hand, will undergo
an analogous evolution. He will learn that wealth has a double

SECTION 21.— PRECISE NA TURE OF PROBLEM TO BE INVESTIGA TED. 239

source ; he will educate himself ; he will become an ardent
believer in the need and the potentialities of scientific organi-
sation and efficiency; he will be a brain worker as well as a
handworker, a tireless initiator and remodeller, ever aiming at
improving processes and products. The Capitalist will thus
evolve into an organiser with no superior controlling status,
and the Labourist will develop into an individual who, with
other individuals, appoints or dismisses the organiser, as share-
holders appoint or dismiss a board of directors, and who par-
ticipates to some extent in management.

As thoroughly democratic governments evolve by degrees out
of irresponsible despotisms, so democratic control and manage-
ment of wealth will gradually succeed the present-day capitalist
control and management of wealth. Intelligently to apprehend
the meaning of the problem we are to investigate, is in this
case also virtually tantamount to succeeding in its solution.

§ 107. Again. Consider a cluster of problems arising out of
the World War. It has been argued that since a police force is
indispensable in intra-national affairs, therefore a police force is
also necessary in inter-national affairs. The case for an inter-
national army is thus, in nearly every one's opinion, regarded
as conclusively established, indeed so much so that doubt on
the point is regarded as a sign of sheer obstinacy. And yet,
is there a parity between a police force and an international
army? Visualise a London policeman on his beat, his only
weapon the truncheon, and his main duty to regulate the traffic,
prevent offences, and arrest flagrant offenders against the law.
Visualise now the so-called inter-national police, and you find
murderous instruments in profuse variety, and no intention
to be of use in peace or to arrest flagrant offenders against
the law and hail them before a magistrate. The contrast be-
tween the equipment and the duties of the intra-national and
the inter-national police force is so extreme as to verge on the
ludicrous. Manifestly, the connotation of the terms in the two
connections diverges radically, and we arrive therefore at the
conclusion that if the problem were properly posited, the com-
parison would be dismissed as fallacious.

Moreover, are we justified in reasoning from individuals to
territorial groups, as is done in the last illustration? The
police proper is here or there in constant requisition. Are we
to imagine that the inter-national police, pursuing the analogy,
will be also here or there in constant requisition? Is it not
nlore correct to draw a crucial distinction between individuals
and territorial groups? Thinking of the last fifty years, and
leaving aside Ireland which has never been truly assimilated,
we find that of the thousands of territorial groups of the island
kingdom, probably not one has either entertained the idea of
attacking other territorial groups or been cowed into submission
by the national ''police" or army. In other words, the problem

240 PART V.— WORKING STAGE.

of physical force has literally not arisen for these territorial
groups. From this and cognate considerations we may infer
that mobile individuals and immobile territorial groups belong
to two fundamentally different categories: the one, in modern
times, inconceivable without a police, the other capable of
existing for centuries, and presumably indefinitely, without
even the threat of physical force. An examination of the
differences between an individual and territorial groups would
show why this is so ; but this would lead us beyond the limits
of the present Conclusion. Suffice it that since physical force
is, one may almost say, never contemplated in intra-territorial
questions, its use in inter-territorial difficulties may be con-
ceived as equally unnecessary. Shifting the problem from the
margin into the focus, we discover that we are confronted with
two astounding, but exceedingly plausible, fallacies. A new
formulation hence ensues: "If physical force is not needed
in the governance of intra-territorial groups, is it indispensable
in the relations of sovereign territorial groups?" Here, too,
the historic and evolutionary method — including as it does
past, present, and probable future — should be applied.

What, again, shall we say to the suggestion that the arma-
ments of the nations should be limited ? Once more we have a
popular demand, universally deemed reasonable and feasible.
The essential implication in this instance is that armaments are
a definite quantity which can be mechanically reduced. A
hundred years ago, when inventions played an insignificant part
in war and peace, there could have been no grave logical
objection to this demand. Is this, however, so to-day ? Think
of the World War! Germany's first successes in Belgium and
France, and the great Russian "drive", were principally due to
the unexpected quantity of ammunition and machine guns used,
and to the influence of the unanticipated German and Austrian
monster guns. Moreover, the U-boat and its fiendish method,
as well as poison gas and other potent factors, were novel to
the world. Accordingly, if an Armaments Limitation Agreement
had existed before the war, it would have almost certainly not
provided for these unexpected instrumentalities, and would
have therefore left Germany in a highly advantageous military
position. It is hence likely that an Armaments Limitation
Agreement concluded now, would be very largely obsolete in
a decade or less, and prove perilous to nations relying thereon,
especially in view of the experience gained during the war and
the harnessing of science to the car of international slaughter.
Once more, a clear statement of the problem would have shattered
a fallacy which Is at present almost ubiquitously diffused.

Or, consider the enthusiasm engendered after the termination
of the World War by the proposal to form a League of Nations.
"We must have a League of Nations", was the cry of all parties,
save of the small ultra-militarist group. Yet what precisely is

SECTION21.-PRECISE NATURE OF PROBLEM TO BE INVESTIGATED.^

signified by a League of Nations ? One could read for months
in the press leading articles, special articles, and cables on the
subject, without this fundamental question being asked. Roughly,
it might mean an agreement between the leading governments
of the world to defend each other if attacked. For the inner
circle— a certain number of experts — it was a project in-
volving an International Court whose object it was to inquire
into justiciable cases, and a Council which was to act as mediator,
conciliator, and legislator, and some kind of internationalised
army. On one point unanimity appeared to exist, namely that
a League of Nations would form an effective bulwark against
another attentat on humanity. Why this should follow, it was
difficult to comprehend. Yet if the precise- nature of the problem
had been determined, the discussions would have been distinctly
more profitable. Even the advisability of a League of Nations
in any form might have been called into question, and a new
issue would have been raised: for example, whether a Legislature,
Court, and Administration, with total absence of armaments,
was not what existed in intra-territorial affairs, and what should
be introduced into inter-territorial affairs? In any case un-
biassed reflection would have shown that there was no virtue in
a League as such; that a League might be a reactionary body;
that a Court restricted in its scope, and confined merely to
platonic expressions of opinion, would very likely prove abortive ;
that a Council of Conciliation, constituted of Government nominees,
was a travesty of a democratic institution; and that our age and
its spirit demanded nothing more nor less for international
affairs than for national ones — a democratic Legislature, Court,
and Administration. As a minimum, thinkers ought to have
made proposals which were unambiguous, and not proceeded
to assume the clarity of an expression which was really vague
in the extreme. Now that the League — with its Secretariat,
Council, and Assembly — exists, the object of reformers should
be to develop it into the positive direction indicated above.

Suppose, again, that the problem submitted is that of the
causes of peace and war. Here, unless the terms are properly
defined at the initial stage, the investigation may assume gigantic
proportions, and yet the results may only darken the issues
involved. As explained in § 117 there is almost a universal
tendency to think of problems in the light of momentary and
local interests, and thus to mistake passing symptoms for
eternal verities. A state of war tends therefore to be defined in
certain extremist quarters as resulting from any and every kind
of social backwardness, and peace as only securable through
social conduct which is in every way irreproachable, whilst
other extremists reason that, e.g., wars have always been and
will for ever remain because demanded by human nature, a
period of peace being a transitional stage between one war
and another. Along this road advance is manifestly barred.

16

242 PART V.— WORKING STAGE.

The clear thinker will be resolved to fix the objective signi-
fication of the terms Peace and War, and to seek for real in-
stead of presumed causes. If he sets out with such an intention,
he fulfils the demands of the Conclusion.

§ 108. Lastly. Reasoning hastily without fixing the problem,
we may be inclined, for instance, to ascribe India's industrial
backwardness to such factors as race, climate, tradition, and
religion. Yet if we attentively peruse the comprehensive Report
of the Indian Industrial Commission, 1916-1918, we learn that
such a conclusion would be decidedly dubious. The Commissioners
find that the intensive industrialism of the West is due to definite
causes, such as nation-wide elementary education, lower and higher
technical instruction and training, hygienic and sanitary reforms,
legislative protection of the worker, facilities for land acqui-
sition and banking, and, above and through all, to Government
support and initiative. Accordingly, the Report concludes in
effect that the industrial immaturity of India is no greater than
would be anticipated in the circumstances of any Western
country, and the Commissioners confidently expect that with
the necessary reforms realised, India will enter as an equal
the comity of highly developed industrial nations. Could one
not, we venture to ask, extend the Commissioners' conclusions
to all so-called backward peoples and races? Must we not be
as definite as the Indian Commissioners before we affirm that
an unbridgeable difference exists between one people or race
and another in any cultural direction whatsoever?

The frequent failure to define the problem to be solved is
not seldom the cause that an enquiry proves comparatively
barren, or is unnecessarily cumbersome and protracted. Granted,
however, that the nature of the problem under investigation has
been determined as precisely as circumstances permit, we proceed
to examine the detailed facts through inspection, observation,
and experiment. Before doing this, however, we shall consider
certain problems allied to the one discussed in this Conclusion.

CONCLUSION 15.

Need of Exact Terminology, of Conclusions in the Form of
Precise Definitions, and of Extreme Definiteness in Thought

and Statements.1

§ 109. (A) EXACT TERMINOLOGY.— The need for simple,
exactly defined, fixed, and universally accepted terms, as well
as for a sufficiency of these, is commonly recognised. This
topic, however, need not be laboured, seeing the common
scientific practice which leaves little to be desired in this

1 "Everything relating both to bodies and virtues in nature [should] be
set forth (as far as may be), numbered, weighed, measured, defined." (Bacon,
Parasceve.) "Practical working comes of the due combination of physics
and mathematics." (Ibid.)

SECTION 21.— PRECISE NA TURE OF PROBLEM TO BE INVESTIGA TED. 243

respect. We may, nonetheless, stress the point that the terms
selected should embody descriptions rather than theories, and
that provisional terms should be replaced as soon as possible
by truly descriptive ones.

At the same time we should remember the cogent reasons
which underlie the demand for a precise terminology. For
instance, the technical employment in a treatise of such a term
as nature, religion, or morality, generally suggests to the reader
ideas diverging appreciably from those in the mind of the
writer; and if we add to this that each generation alters its
general outlook to some extent, it will be%.perceived how
desirable it becomes that a term shall be unequivocally defined.
For this reason mathematical terms are alone truly satisfactory,
because it is impossible, or nearly impossible, to misconstrue
their meaning. "How much we owe to the possession of
names," says Lord Kelvin, "is best illustrated by how much
we lose — how great a disadvantage we are put to — in cases in
which we have not names. We want a name for the reciprocal
of resistance. We have the name 'conductivity', but we want
a name for the ujiit of conductivity. I made a box of re-
sistance coils thirty years ago, and another fifteen years ago,
for the measurement of conductivity, and they both languished
for the want of a name. . . . We shall have a word for it when
we have the thing, or rather, I should say, we shall have the
thing when we have the word."1 John Stuart Mill remarks on
this subject: "Hardly any original thoughts on mental or social
subjects ever make their way among mankind, or assume their
proper importance in the minds of even their inventors, until
aptly-selected words or phrases have, as it were, nailed them
down and held them fast."- (Logic, bk. 4, ch. 6, § 3.) Yet
unless the terminology proposed (assuming strict and correct
definition), especially in a new science, is indubitably appro-
priate, or differs but slightly from that in common use, it stands
in danger of being disregarded, together with the facts indicate'd
by it. Indeed, from the standpoint of the popularisation of
scientific facts, a truly consistent methodology will demand
that terminologies and nomenclatures3 be not derived from
foreign tongues,4 for this creates immense and yet quite un-

1 The science of Sound is seriously hampered through lacking a term
intermediate between "noise" and "harmony". Similarly, an intermediate
term is needed between "tragedy" and "comedy".

2 Formulae and notations are important extensions of the above. They
should express the greatest practicable number of facts or relations in an
unequivocal manner.

3 "A nomenclature of a science is a collection of names of groups. A
terminology is a collection of the names (or terms) which distinguish
either the properties or the parts of the individual objects which the science
recognises." (Fowler, Logic, vol. 2, p. 92.) See, further, on this subject
Boyce Gibson, The Problem of Logic.

4 The obstacles alluded to in the text might be made considerably less
formidable by dictionaries comprising an etymological section where words

16*

244 PART V.— WORKING STAGE.

necessary embarrassments, and that the language, as in the
case of Greek, be so constructed or re-shaped as to permit of
an easy joining and fixing of terms and part terms. Already
academies and learned compilers of dictionaries have contributed
appreciably to making language less amorphous and more re-
liable ; but, to attain this end completely, it requires the employ-
ment of a method of automatically fixing the signification of
words and readily augmenting or lightening the vocabulary.1
Till that day arrives there is perhaps some advantage in employ-
ing for scientific purposes the words of a dead language not
subject to the disastrous wear and tear of daily use in the
irresponsible market of the world. If this be so, everybody
should learn that language, although nobody should speak or
write it (which is virtually the case with Greek to-day). This is,
however, a clumsy and desperate device of overcoming what
in many languages is now a serious obstacle both to research
and to its popularisation.2

§ 110. (B) EXACT CONCLUSIONS.— As with terms, so with
conclusions. Lack of precision in great measure invalidates
them. To venture therefore in a desultory manner on innumer-
able assertions concerning a subject, may be arresting because
of the very vagueness, but is not exactly enlightening. In con-
sequence, next to aiming at precise terms, we should endeavour
to reach precise and truly comprehensive definitions which shall
summarise an enquiry in a convincing manner. Such definitions
will alone enable us and others to test the correctness of our
results and to utilise them for deductive ends, for which reasons
they are indispensable. Leaving aside the various definitions
of methodological terms which we have offered in Part II, we
may further illustrate our meaning by calling attention to the
comprehensive definition regarding the nature of man furnished
in Conclusions 13 and 34. One might similarly, though tenta-
tively, gather up the total meaning and content of the science
of ethics, by speaking of it as "that branch of the general
science of specio-psychics which deals with the historic tendency
of human impulses, individuals, groups of individuals, and groups

derived from identical roots are classed together. That is, what we attempted
to do for English words developing out of the Latin "vertere", in Con-
clusion 20 d, might be effected for the whole vocabulary, including prefixes
and postfixes. Thys mastery of the etymology of at least the more common
words of foreign origin would then involve a comparatively modest effort
which might not be beyond the capacity of the older scholars in the primary
school and of adults generally. Not only would novel combinations be thus
readily comprehended, but the current vocabulary might be increased, say,
to the proportion common in literary works of distinction.

1 For a project of a scientific language, see § 205.

2 The definition of a term may be verbal or real. In the first instance,
we merely explain how we propose to employ a term; in the second
instance, of which alone we speak in the text, we strive to define the
nature of the phenomenon implied in the term.

SECTION 21. -PRECISE NATURE OF PROBLEM TO BE INVESTIGA TED. 245

of human groups, increasingly to satisfy human nature through
co-operation"; and one might join to this the practical deduc-
tion "until, in the place of the unreasoned need of the moment,
which almost exclusively dominates the individual in the first
stages of human development, the ideal of the complete and
correlated solidarity of the self and of mankind rules undisturbed
in man and human nature is completely satisfied"- The value
of aiming at, and reaching, comprehensive definitions of this
character can scarcely be exaggerated. We must become again,
but on a higher plane, dialecticians and scholastics. Moreover,
the wholesome caution and thoroughness involved in the fram-
ing of definitions, point to their being imperative throughout
every stage of an enquiry, more especially for deductive pur-
poses.1

§ 111. (C) DEFINITENESS IN SCIENTIFIC WORK GENE-
RALLY.—Similarly, this tendency towards definiteness should
throughout stamp the activities of the man of science, because
without it there can be no decisive advance, and since con-
fusion is an even deadlier foe to truth than error. A famous
example of definiteness in method, which has been often quoted,
is that of the discovery of the manner in which dew is deposited
on plants. For over half a century, till 1885, Wells' theory was
thus not only accepted but admired. Yet the fact that plants
differed from all non-living objects in that they were animate
and that they were normally rooted in the ground, was uni-
formly overlooked — a significant illustration of the absence of a
rigorously scientific method of enquiry in our day. This was,
of course, more pardonable in older writers. Van Helmont
(born 1577) thus reasoned that plants obtain all their constituents
from water. In proof he cited an experiment of his own. He
had planted a willow weighing 5 Ibs. in 200 Ibs. of earth.
After 5 years the willow weighed over 169 Ibs. and the earth
had only lost 2 ounces. Ergo, he reasoned, roots and wood
are transformed water. The transformability of the all-enfold-
ing air had necessarily escaped his attention.

The advance of science is distinguished by greater knowledge
leading to greater definiteness — e.g., "the molecule has been
raised from a conception only realisable experimentally in mil-

1 The following definitions may prove useful. "A fact, in the scientific
sense of the word, is the close agreement of many observations or measure-
ments of the same phenomena." "A class, in the scientific sense of the
word, is a plural number of facts that resemble one another in some given
point or number of points." "A generalisation, in the scientific sense of
the word, is an affirmation that a constant relation exists between an unvary-
ing class of facts and some unvarying fact not in the class, or between one
unvarying class of facts and some other unvarying class." "A law, in the
scientific sense of the word, is an affirmation of a constant relation between
a fact of variation and some other fact of variations, or between a class of
variations and some other class ot variations." (F. H. Giddings, Inductive
Sociology, 1901.)

246 PART V.-WORKING STAGE.

lions to the rank of a definite particle whose entry into our
apparatus produces a definite and measurable effect." (James
A. Crowther, Molecular Physics, 1919, p. 1.) A historical in-
stance is also that relating to scurvy. Green vegetables having
been found to be a specific in its prevention and cure, men
neglected to notice that long cooking or complete drying de-
stroy the anti-scorbutic factor in the vegetables, just as they
tacitly inferred that lime-juice, being acid, may be substituted
for lemon juice, a disastrous non sequitur, since the anti-scor-
butic factor is not to be identified with acidity and since lime-
juice contains that factor in negligible quantities only. Likewise,
whilst the fertilising agents in animal manure may be detected
and artificially produced or found in other substances, animal
manures may yet have their distinct value. So, too, unemploy-
ment, strike, lock-out, and especially industrial accidents statis-
tics, only became definite and truly comparable when they were
presented in terms of days lost, and wages only acquired a
definite meaning when they were related to the cost of living
for a family of five, and when the minimum requirements as
to food, etc., were scientifically ascertained. Similarly the con-
tention, as by Lord Leverhulme in his work The Six Hour-Day,
that modern industrial methods have increased productivity
a hundredfold would probably be modified to a modest fen-
fold, or fivefold, increase if the actual changes in productivity
were definitely envisaged.

§ 112. Indefiniteness is at present the bane of social inves-
tigations. Here is, for example, the extremely important sex
problem. How simple and natural it would be to scrutinise
closely the facts, and, once for all, to sweep away at least the
grosser misconceptions on the subject ! Yet we have a formid-
able and ever swelling literature, dealing with one aspect or
another of the sex problem, but frequently throwing scarcely
a streak of light on the main issues involved. Some few facts
here and there have been observed or mal-observed, and forth-
with a pamphlet or book is written. For instance, in the high
interests of morality scores of publications have appeared which
advocate sex enlightenment. Finding that the young stumble
over the physiological relation arising out of marriage, ingenious
solutions of the difficulty have been propounded. To ensure a
sense of purity and a high ideal of marriage, the children should
be made acquainted, it is maintained, with the lives of flowers
and, more especially, with the general process of the fertilisation
of plants. This, bolder reformers supplement with illustrations
of the generative processes in fishes and some of the other
lower animals, and the most daring delicately encourage the
children to observe for themselves what the farm and the street
offer in this respect. Still others furnish accounts of the organs
of generation in human beings. Only few, however, have the
temerity to approach the subject of human paternity. Such

SECTION21.-PRECISE NA TURE OF PROBLEM TO BE INVESTIGA TED. 247

enlightenment as has been indicated above is deemed by many
not only urgently desirable, but entirely satisfactory, in that
it is said to suffuse the hearts of the young with a feeling of
the nobility and sanctity of their body and of marriage. In-
cessant and mournful are therefore the complaints that parents
and teachers as a body cannot be induced to communicate this
life-giving information to their charges.

Yet if reformers had not hastily rushed to deal with a fugitive
symptom, if they had definitely faced the problem as such, they
would have been spared mortification. They should have asked
themselves, What is the meaning of human marriage? and
should have sought a clear answer to this question before
thinking of remedies for one or another related social disease.
It would have then transpired that it is monstrous to imagine
that a study of the farm-yard, or of the fertilising process in
flowers and the like, should be conceived to be a fair and ade-
quate introduction to a true conception of marriage. Examining
a number of unions of the type which they could commend,
reformers might have deduced the subjoined conclusions, among
others:—

(1) Two human beings, man and woman, each of about the
age of twenty-five, after having felt for perhaps some years
that they appreciated, understood, and loved each other, agree
to marry and cohabit for the remainder of their lives as lovers
and comrades, and, if fortune does not frown, as parents. This
agreement they have socially ratified and sanctified by the law,
or by their religious organisation, or by both.

(2) Since any children born to them should be as healthy as
possible, the parents should be fully developed physically. This
stage is reached about the age of twenty-five, and marriage
therefore should not be contracted before that period.

(3) The child, when born, is altogether helpless, and therefore
to bring offspring into the world without taking care of it
after birth is to doom it to almost instant death. If marriage
involves, as a rule, the birth of children, the children thus born
demand parental devotion for a long period, perhaps even to
adulthood.

(4) Moreover, whereas with animals the process of rearing
offspring is almost entirely a matter of physical care, with
human beings the substance of all moral and other inventions
and discoveries made during the history of the race has to be
transmitted by teaching to the offspring. This entails, therefore,
an incalculably great extension of the responsibilities of human
parents. Accordingly, there should be also a solid preparation
for marriage on other planes than the physical, if our specie-
historic heritage, which alone makes us truly and distinctively
human, is to be transmitted to the coming generation. This
preparation comprises a high development of the general intelli-
gence, the attainment of a lofty moral standard in conduct and

248 PART V.— WORKING STAGE.

insight, the due appreciation of what is beautiful, the thorough
acquisition of a suitable vocation, a fair understanding of life
or the "world", the assimilation of the chief virtues demanded
by the intimate common life of husband and wife, sufficient
and practical knowledge of the education of children in the
home, and training in domestic economy generally. Such a
preparation is requisite if marriage is to achieve its significant
ends ; and this process of preparation, like that of physiological
maturing, necessitates that those who are to be married should
have reached man's and woman's estate— that is, about the
age of twenty-five.

(5) If the children are eventually to become personalities and
cultured, both parents should be personalities and cultured.

(6) This implies a feeling and an acknowledgment of equality
between husband and wife.

(7) Intimate co-operation between the parents would be also
impossible unless a sense of comradeship prevailed.

(8) A life task of such magnitude as human marriage, pre-
supposes, of course, mutual and deep devotion between the
partners in marriage. With the above demands satisfied, the
flame of love, once it has been kindled, is easily kept alive.
Love is indispensable in every arduous enterprise — in elevating
offspring, in social causes, in serving one's country. At the
same time, sustained love becomes almost an impossibility
when life is not rationally organised, and where there is no
adequate preparation for the state of matrimony.

(9) Marriage fulfils the universal, or all but universal, desire
for a home — for a place and a world which one can claim as
one's very own, since mother, father, and children are one.

(10) Whatever be the attitude of the world, whether it is
appreciative or contumelious, there can be no greater boon than
to have a life companion — another self — with whom one can
confidently consult in every emergency, however intimate the
matters might be. What parents are to children, parents are
as truly to each other in respected families. This form of mar-
riage postulates, consequently, the indissolubility of the marriage
tie under all save the extremest circumstances. A marriage
lightly entered into, or lightly regarded or dissolved, is no ge-
nuine marriage at all. A form of marriage restricted to a certain
period, would imply absence of real intimacy — the quintessence
of marriage.

(11) In a typical marriage of the best type it is generous ideals,
including mutual love and respect, which govern decisions, the
individual conceiving himself or herself as the servant of an
idea, and not as the ruler or exploiter of another.

(12) If the meaning and the implications of marriage are such
as we have sketched above, the well-nurtured youth and maiden
will look forward to marriage with a sentiment akin to sacred
awe and joy. They will be pure in spirit, and therefore pure

SECTION 21— PRECISE NA TURE OF PROBLEM TO BE INVESTIGA TED. 249

in word and deed. Again, after they are married, infidelity in
any sense will be inconceivable to them. Indeed, chastity and
fidelity will signify to them respect for all that is implicit in
marriage and in human nature.

(13) Culture being that ingredient in every human being which
stamps him as human, both sexes will regard each other pri-
marily as human, and not as sex, beings.

(14) In conclusion. The truly typical human marriage is world
removed from the truly typical animal union— without making
any aspersions on the latter, and the propagative instinct has
in man a limited and quite definite object to serve. Once this
is recognised and conceded, parents and teachers will not find
it difficult or embarrassing to introduce the children to the
manifold meaning of marriage. On the contrary, this task will
become a cardinal one for parent and teacher alike, and its
fulfilment will repay a hundredfold the efforts made.

Having acquired a definite conception of the meaning of
marriage as a starting point, the problems of home and school
education in relation to sex may be approached with confidence,
since the physiological aspects have been justly relegated to the
background. Nevertheless, or rather just because of this, there
should not be the least hesitation in the parents describing to
the young the processes of conception, gestation, parturition,
recovery, and lactation, thus leaving only for later treatment
the stage immediately preceding conception. No young child
but would be grateful for such information, and be very much
the better for its possession. No parent could hesitate to impart
such knowledge. To the young child, it should be remembered,
all things are pure.

Much mischief has Jbeen caused by assuming that at the age
of puberty the minds of the young are suddenly perturbed and
absorbed in matters of sex. Leaving aside sophistication through,
e.g., perverse companions and morbid literature, nothing seems
further from the truth. On the contrary, as we might expect,
the whole nature is opening out towards adulthood with its
innumerable phases. Cricket, football, the desire to be a sailor,
travel or hunting, keenness to become independent and prepare
for some vocation, notions of reforming the world, adventures
and new experiences generally, thoughts of maturity, such is
the adolescent's programme. Interest in the complementary sex
enters only later and, save for exceptional cases and causes,
scarcely captivates the mind of the semi-adolescent. The
adolescent desires to develop and assert the whole of his many
powers. In fact, if this were not so, the adolescent would reach
adulthood pitifully unprepared and entirely unfit for the tasks
of life and marriage. The alarmists— those who hint that with
puberty should come satisfaction of the sex instinct, and those
others who contend that with the advent of puberty should
ensue a desperate struggle to curb and crush the rebellious sex

250 PART V— WORKING STAGE.

instinct — should be converted to a saner view of adolescence,
a view in closer conformity with fact and the distinctive nature
of man.

After home and school enlightenment, follows the education
of young men and women, and finally that of adults and of
married folk. Here also a definite conception of the meaning
of marriage should render impossible the crude, revolting, and
unnatural views which so widely prevail, views portraying men
as miserable weaklings incapable of self-restraint and women
as the willing slaves to men's lusts. The psychology of the
whole matter requires to be assiduously examined. For instance,
it appears probable that much sex thought is incidental to the
general process of falling into a certain habit of thought and
is moreover normally unconnected with sex feelings, and that
sexual aberrations are to be primarily explained as matters of
depraved thought habits, and not as resulting from perverse sex
instincts. Likewise, in an individual who has not been socially
drilled into sex emphasis, bodily sex feelings may be present
and yet not issue into sex thoughts of any kind — which should
be the normal experience. Again, bodily sex disturbances during
sleep should not normally result in sex dreams, and where they
do, it should be remarked that the dream is most frequently an
attempted interpretation and not the cause. It is also worthy
of consideration that sharply turning away the attention com-
monly wipes out any line of thoughts, including sex thoughts,
and that turning the attention intently on any bodily sensations,
including sex sensations, has the same modifying effect normally.
In a word, there is no justification for assuming a kind of fatal
connection between sex thoughts and sex feelings, and vice versa.
Perhaps most important of all is the psychological effect of a
true conception of marriage both before and within marriage—
a conception restricting sex intimacy to the perpetuation of the
race, and the fact that sex demands are freely diminished or
heightened by the law of habit.

Thus a really definite conception of the meaning of marriage,
a clear apprehension of its total meaning, may lift many out
of the morass into which they have sunk.

§ 113. Or consider the human problem par excellence, that
of conduct, from the point of view of definiteness of thought.
Preachers and prophets throughout the ages have vied with
one another in lamenting the hardness of men's hearts, their
ethical obtuseness, and their disloyalty to the moral law. Espe-
cially painful has been the almost universal impression that
belief in the ideal, on the one hand, and its realisation in our
conduct, on the other, are apparently diametrically opposed to
each other, so much so that it has been widely surmised that
men and women are by nature corrupt, and therefore incapable
of obeying the behests of the ideal. Yet definiteness of thought,
or facing the problem as a whole, would have dispelled this

SKCT10N21.— PRECISE NA TURE OF PROBLEM TO BE INVESTIGA TED. 251

paralysing despair and these corrosive suspicions concerning a
fundamental characteristic of human nature.

We perceive, for example, that it is one thing to say to one-
self, "A man should stand erect, not be held erect by others",
"Pass your life in honesty and purity of heart", "Be master
of your appetites", "Be perfect", and quite another matter to
realise these maxims in our conduct. Yet why should any one
be surprised at this? Suppose we said to those who desired
to paint beautifully, or to those who wished to be athletes,
"Be ye perfect", should we consider it just to expect that forth-
with there should stand before us perfect painters or perfect
athletes ? Yet where lies the difference ? The ordinary man-
would-be painter or lover of the right — has many firmly rooted
habits to extirpate and many new habits to plant and tend.
Neither to exaggerate nor to understate, to place oneself in the
position of another, to become self-reliant, to feel kindly dis-
posed towards all whatever their character, to be alert in order
to perform some good act, to assume complete and easy control
over our bodily desires and long-established habits, to display
delicate insight into the needs of others, and much else that
a live conscience exacts, manifestly requires minute adjustments
which only long, deliberate, and experimental practice can
properly effect. Not a line can be written about the methods
of acquiring an art, which does not apply to the art of conduct.

We learn, accordingly, that absence of definiteness in thought,
i.e., of a proper perspective, is the cause of men and women
falling far short of their ideal and being in incessant conflict
therewith. Let the art of conduct become a genuine art, and
let children from infancy onwards be systematically trained to
develop all the virtues pursuant to the law of development in
all the arts, and we shall have a right and a reason to anti-
cipate lives where the ideal and the real almost meet.

§ 114. Or let us probe the question of peace and war by
means of the test of definiteness. It is a common argument,
sometimes urged with regret, that war, like penury or vice,
has always existed and will consequently, it is alleged, con-
tinue for aye. If we definitely ask ourselves, however, what
war is, this depressing conclusion seems by no means self-
evident. For instance, erstwhile private war or revenge was
universal, and yet in the most civilised lands lawlessness has
virtually passed away. Again, towns and provinces were for-
merly often at war, whilst nobles boasted of their retainers
and fought one another— a condition of society now wholly
obsolete. Small countries frequently at war with one another
have been fused together and have become large countries,
e.g., England, Germany, Italy, the old feuds never recurring.
It is, therefore, manifest that with the growth in humaneness,
the granting of personal and corporate autonomy, and the in-
tegration of international relations, the time must arrive when

252 PART V. -WORKING STAGE.

the nations will be bountf to each other by innumerable ties,
when an inter-national parliament and administration will be
established, when inter-national courts of law will possess the
status of our national law courts, and when war between nations
will be as inconceivable as war between towns. In fact, as
intra-national consolidation proceeds, war is abolished within
the nation, and when the relations between different countries
will have been consolidated, war will have ceased altogether.
Such considerations evidence that those who believe in the
lasting continuance of warfare fallaciously postulate, because
of indefiniteness of thought, that feuds have only occurred be-
tween nations and that the closely cooperating nations of the
future will be reflexes of the practically self-contained nations
of yesterday. Viewing the problem, therefore, in the proper
perspective, we learn that war is bound to disappear.

§ 115. Or, again, study the problem of the abolition of
poverty. To read any of the many inspired and inspiring
Utopias, one marvels that they have not been realised long ago.
We have only to socialise the means of production and of ex-
change, so the story runs, and everybody will possess more
than sufficient of the good things of life, whilst his or her hours
of labour will very nearly reach the vanishing point. The plan
is so enticing that it should not even meet with the opposition
of the rich who assuredly demand no more than a super-
abundance of desirable commodities and an ample allowance
of leisure, and still we do not appear to be approaching the
sanctified soil of the promised land. The fact is that definite-
ness of thought is wanting in many of our social reformers.
The well-to-do perceive no prospect of obtaining more than
they need in the socialist State, and therefore seek to frustrate
its advent. As we point out in Conclusions 6, 17, and 20, with
the views current as to how material satisfaction is to be ob-
tained, the socialist State must inevitably fail. It cannot offer
each individual .^50,000 a year, or its equivalent in kind, nor
permit him to draw up his own time table, nor provide each
person with a small army of secretaries, stewards, butlers,
lackeys, valets, housemaids, cooks, gardeners, chauffeurs, and
other attendants. So long, in fact, as men think as they do
at present concerning the sources of happiness, they would seek
to exploit the socialist State as they do the contemporary State,
with the inevitable result that the socialist State would de-
teriorate no sooner than it was instituted until it reached some
condition of disequilibrium resembling the States of to-day. It
is of no avail for the worker earning two pounds a week to
protest that he will be abundantly satisfied when he is in receipt
of what may be valued at six pounds a week. He nurses an
illusion, as the social facts prove, for in our day each class,
whatever its income, seeks as a rule to "better" itself. The
minimum required for arriving at the beatific state presupposes

SECTION 21.— PRECISE NATURE OF PROBLEM TO BE INVESTIGATED. 253

therefore a true conception of human nature, true insight into
what constitutes a satisfactory life, and, furthermore, a moral
enlightenment and training which shall render it easy for men
and women to live in the light of a high ideal. Granted these,
we should possess a basis for the socialist or social State which
would resist all onslaughts, and we could, and would, confidently
and cheerily labour for its speedy — or rather more complete-
realisation. Lack of courage to face the problem as such, and
an insistence on what is transient, are the undoing of those
who seek happiness in wealth and those who work for an era

"When wealth no more shall rest in mounded heaps,

But smit with freer light shall slowly melt

In many streams to fatten lower lands." (Tennyson.)

These remarks, however, are by no means intended to dis-
courage the disinherited from looking forward to a socialised
State, and from demanding at present what they abundantly
deserve as their due — an adequate living wage, shorter hours,
full employment, hygienic workplaces, respectful treatment, and
better conditions of labour generally.

§ 116. Finally, there is the engrossingly interesting problem
of the nature of religion. Many thinkers not only restrict the
meaning of the term to their own creed, but limit it to their
particular interpretation of that creed. So, too, the term is
said to connote the existence of a supernatural and infinite
deity, or at least of deities. On the other hand, there are those
who speak of a religion of health, a religion of art, a religion
of love, a religion of goodness, or who identify religion with
some aspect of some religion or religions — worship, devotion
to an ideal, and the like. Only a firm resolve to reach the
core of the meaning, a desire to be quite definite, to be quit
of delusions, can aid us here, as in social problems generally.

If, in this spirit, we analyse various religions, we discover
that he who is religious feels that he needs assistance such as
he does not find in himself or in his immediate environment,
or requires at least to be reassured concerning the rational and
moral constitution of his world. In the earlier religions, even
to the time of the Romans, living men, it is true, were also
sometimes worshipped, but on the understanding that they
were not like other men, whilst in these latter days many
individuals, most of them well favoured by the fates, have
been satisfied with the existence of a deity who had arranged
from eternity everything for the best. In either case self-con-
tainedness is excluded. In Judaism, Christianity, and Moham-
medanism, the individual regards himself as in a desperate
plight but for the support of his deity, and but for the as-
surance that his deity watches over mankind. Buddha, it is
said, came to save men from themselves and their miseries
by means of his discovery that they could rise superior to

254 PART V.— WORKING STAGE.

their destiny, by passing into the state of Nirvana, beyond the
realms of sense and thought, or at least beyond the reach of
selfishness into the elysium of altruism. Zeno, touching the
very heart of the problem, taught how the rational or dis-
tinctive element in man might rule the animal element of the
passions and the appetites. Confucius found in the study and
reverence of antiquity, with its moral treasures, release from
spiritual and moral bondage for his people.

Summing up the matter, we observe that, for certain reasons,
the individual distrusts his powers. He asks himself What is
the meaning of my life ? Is the good life really more satis-
factory than the bad life ? Is there an uncertain struggle
between evil and good, or will justice triumph? Is there any
help for me, here and now, in my anxieties, or have I only
myself to rely on? Am I to obey or to control my capricious
impulses? In a word, allowing for varied stages of social
development and experience, the individual desires to feel "at
home" in the world, and is convinced that this feeling can
only be his if support be forthcoming beyond that which self-
reliance or his fellows about him can proffer. He needs a
cheerful and bracing philosophy of life, an assurance that he
does not stand by himself and that the right shall not be mocked.
Sometimes, as Lucretius points out, the philosophy of life
believed in is neither very cheering nor very bracing, but it is
probably the most cheering and bracing within reach. Whether
the solution proposed be natural or supernatural, magical or
scientific, is indifferent to the fundamental problem of religion.
So long as the individual feels that he needs support beyond
what he may anticipate from his neighbours, a religion will be
to him a necessity, the particular form of the religion being a
secondary matter, save in so far as the demand for a cheerful
and bracing philosophy of life is well or ill satisfied.

Definiteness or comprehensiveness in thought thus leads to
a definition of religion which in all probability is substantially
correct, and which may aid us in distinguishing that which is
religion from that which is not.

The same method may help us to proceed a step further.
Is the central fact of all religions— the individual's alleged self-
inadequacy— established by science or not? The mere fact of
the existence of religions at all periods makes the supposition
eminently plausible. However, throughout this volume, and
especially in Conclusion 13, we have seen that, considered
from a purely scientific standpoint, the individual as such is ,
virtually a zero. No religion, therefore, can make the isolated
individual appear more impotent than science proves him to
be. The religious craving has consequently an indisputable
foundation in reality. But what of its object— the existence of
a power which is to re-assure him? Can science discover any
verity corresponding thereto, or propound any cheering and

SECTION 21.— PRECISE NATURE OF PROBLEM TO BE INVESTIGA TED. 255

bracing philosophy of life ? Here we are face to face with a new
problem, inasmuch as the various extant and extinct philosophies
of life have been parts of widely diverging systems of thought.
Yet one may be permitted to surmise that it cannot be a sheer
coincidence that in the conception of humanity as developed
in Conclusion 13, we are offered a philosophy of life intimately
corresponding in all its essential outlines with the older religious
conceptions. That is, in humanity — embracing past, present,
and to come — we discern a verifiable entity possessing virtually
all the attributes of the traditional deity— practically infinite
goodness, wisdom, power, and omnipresence, and incorporating
a cheerful and bracing answer to the commanding questions
which lie at the heart of religions.1 We learn, accordingly,
that religions have always been justified psychologically and
practically, and that modern science hints at a philosophy of
life closely corresponding in principle to the older religions,
but excelling them in geniality, helpfulness, and energising power.

§ 117. In the problems in this Sub-Conclusion we observe
that the interest of the social reformer centres as a rule in the
vanishing point of what is momentarily and locally felt and ex-
perienced, instead of in the multiple, massive, and enduring
fact of which the former is but a single and transitory mani-
festation. We have thus abundantly proved Bacon's fundamental
contention that what' is regarded as obvious does not disclose,
but masks, reality, and that the enlightened seeker after truth
and the alert social reformer will invariably endeavour to
pierce through the cloud of contemporary commonplaces and
crude surmises by applying the methods proposed in Con-
clusion 19/72. He is indefinite in his thought who, in doc-
trinaire fashion, blandly assumes that he need not go behind
superficial symptoms or beyond unexamined current hypotheses,
or who, in other words, capriciously regards a fraction of an or-
ganic whole as an independent entity. We repeat. The layman
cannot be expected to probe to the kernel the legions of
theories recommended to him; but of him who specifically
devotes himself to a cause or truth we have a right to demand
that he shall examine the whole ground on which he stands
and not only a fraction thereof.

§ 118. (D) DEFIN1TENESS IN STATEMENTS GENE-
RALLY.— In present-day France, lucidity in expression has been
virtually carried to the stage of perfection. Other things being
equal, it will be agreed that the power of unequivocally
communicating our ideas in words, is not only of benefit to
him who hears or reads, but both prevents our thought from
being confused and our statements reacting disastrously on our
ideas. Methodological procedure, that is, demands that our
cogitations shall be clear as a crystal stream, and that our

1 See G. Spiller, Outlines of a New World Religion.

256

PART V.— WORKING STAGE.

language, which is to reflect our cogitations, shall be equally
perspicuous. Moreover, clarity of expression should not be the
outcome of painful toil, of a tortuous approximation to an ideal
of style through the medium of ceaseless emendations, but the
result of efficient training in earlier years. Else the actual
research work is impeded and interfered with, if it is not
seriously contracted and its quality materially depreciated. The
ripe thinker, in other words, should no more need to impart
clearness to his style by the sweat of his brow than be anxiously
concerned about his spelling and grammar.1 Clarity of ex-
pression will, finally, react on language itself and permit the
allotting of definite meanings to definite articulate sounds, with-
out the apprehension that familiarity will breed contempt, or
that the words will be employed carelessly and be in this way
degraded and lose their definiteness.

SECTION XXII.— OBSERVATION.2

§ 119. It is difficult to ascertain and examine the exact
fundamental facts underlying the process of observation as
such. We might, however, state that there needs to be some
circumscribing concept guiding us in our examination, that is,
we should search for similarities of a certain order and exclude
all other classes of similarities. If it is a question of the defini-
tion of a chair or table, for instance, we seek for general
similarities, and we neglect all special or individual ones, such
as material, colour, size, precise conformation, or ornamentation.
In fact, we always presuppose in investigations a general clas-
sification of phenomena, and endeavour to find similarities in
accordance with that classification. (See Section V, also Con-
clusion 3.) For this, reason, anything we can say in this work
on the subject, can only be in further elucidation of the re-
cognised mode of observing. Granted, then, a general pre-
paredness and a special object, we assume that in observation
we seek as a rule for intrinsic and important resemblances in
a group of individuals, and that we strive to divide this group
into as many important groups as possible, or merge it into a
wider group. We examine in this way a large assortment of
individual objects, and, having noted their features, we class

1 He who is, broadly speaking, perfectly educated will have a perfect
command of the whole of the non-technical vocabulary. This in itself will
clarify thought and effectively aid in clarity of expression. A danger should
be, however, guarded against, that of being fascinated and satisfied with
clearness as such.

2 The term Observation, in this Section and throughout the treatise, is
intended to include the term Examination— observational and experimental
examination of physical and psychical objects, processes, and forces, of pro-
positions and proposals, of historical and other documents, of trains of
reasoning, of terms, of formulae, of statistics, etc.

SECTION 22. - OBSERVA TION. 257

them together or apart according to their substantial resem-
blances or divergences, not, however, without re-examining the
facts and finally formulating the shortest practicable compre-
hensive statement. Nevertheless, in many instances our interest
may be to fasten on divergences rather than on resemblances,
in which case we search for heterogeneity rather than for
homogeneity. These few preliminary remarks must suffice, as
our object in this Second Book is practical and not theoretical.

CONCLUSION 16.

Need of applying the Categories ; of Strenuous Mental Application
in the Process of Observation; and of the Observations being
Graded, Comprehensive, Important, Numerous, Full, Rational
and Relevant, Original, Automatically Initiated, and Methodi-
cally Developed.1

§ 120. (a) Utilisation of the Categories. — The purpose of
Observation is, mainly, by the application of the third table
of the Primary Categories to ascertain circumstantially the
Material and Modal Aspects of a phenomenon, as enumerated
in the first and second tables of the Primary Categories. That
is, the investigation will not be guided by chance suppositions
varying with occasions and inquirers, but by comprehensive
tables covering virtually the whole extensive ground. This
method should compass a gigantic saving of effort and secure
the reduction of incomplete or erroneous results to a minimum.
At the same time certain peculiar or special procedure aspects
need to be emphasised in relation to observation, and this we
are essaying in the subjoined paragraphs.

§ 121. (b) Concentration. — In observation, as in all forms
of mental activity, we should intently concentrate* all our
faculties, and avoid both over-confidence and over-anxiety.
Mechanical or routine observation is unscientific. (§ 154.)

§ 122. (c) Point of Departure. — Facts of perception should
form the point of departure of an investigation.

§ 123. (d) Direct and Original Observation. — Observation
should be direct, or original. "Learn all things as much as
you can at first hand." (Watts, Logic, p. 73.) Occasional
recollections, oral accounts, pen descriptions in books, drawings,
paintings, models, and the like, should be only utilised when
observation, external or internal, is impracticable, or when the
accounts issue from a scientific source or are employed for
comparison. It needs scarcely stating how frequently scientists
pass deliberately and critically over ground which their fellows
have trod.

1 For the full meaning of these adjectives, see Conclusion 25.

2 Darwin "assigned supreme importance to the habits of incessant in-
dustry and concentrated attention. . . ." (Frank Cramer, op. cit., p. 17.)

17

258

PART V— WORKING STAGE.

It may not be out of place to supply a graded series of cases
for the purpose of elucidating the full signification of direct
observation: (1) Some one has completed a direct, extensive,
historical, and exhaustive study of the nature and habits of
sheep ; (2) he has had frequent occasions to observe and study
sheep 'in their appropriate surroundings ; (3) he has casually seen
sheep" on the hill slopes; (4) he has seen one hustled through
his street; (5) he saw once a stuffed sheep in a natural history
museum; (6—13) he has seen a large (small) coloured
(uncoloured) model (picture or print) of one or more sheep;
(14—17) he has read (heard) a full and accurate (short and
inaccurate) description of sheep; (18—19) he acquired his in-
formation a long time ago from vague hearsay about sheep,
and cannot, besides, trust his memory. It is manifest that a
very appreciable difference exists between (1) and (19), and it
is to be deplored that outside recognised scientific research
in the physical and biological sciences, there is no adequate
apprehension of the need of keeping closely to (1), whilst a
tendency exists to look indulgently on (18) and (19).

Owing to what seems an unconsciousness of the necessity
of examining facts at first hand and thoroughly, a century of
continuous movement in the sphere of psychology has yielded
no conspicuous fruits. The proper nature of the principal
divisions of the mind, even pleasure-pain and the sensations,
are to-day no less and no more known, one might almost say,
than they were a hundred years ago. The views of the psycho-
logist, as his terminology evidences, have remained in essence
those of the man in the street. This disregard of the rule of
turning directly to the facts and of challenging the scientific
value of pre-scientific classifications, has been powerfully pro-
moted by the belief that effective introspection is impossible — a
belief grounded on speculative considerations and on the ex-
perience that beginners find it difficult to introspect impartially
or well,1 as they would find it difficult to do ANYTHING impar-
tially or well. On this account an eminently simple science,

1 For instance, it has been said that we cannot examine the conditions
of fear and other strong feelings, when what should have been stated is
that we cannot examine directly the first moments of a fierce passion. Or
it has been contended that we cannot attend to what we are attending, when
we are engaged on this the whole day almost. Or it has been argued that
introspection only refers to one individual; but it has been fprgotten that
that individual lives for many years and must of necessity reflect the most
general laws of mind. Here is a comparatively recent statement pertaining
to the alleged drawbacks to introspection: "Analytic observation of mental
processes is difficult just because they are processes and not fixed, enduring
objects. We cannot examine at leisure and again and again the same mental
process; for, as we try to notice its peculiar quality and complexity, it changes
every moment, and it can never be perfectly recovered or restored; and it
changes, or rather gives place to another process, all the more quickly,
just because we direct our attention to it." (W. McDougall, Psychology,
1912, p. 46.)

SECTION 22.— OBSERVATION. 259

unlike that of physiology or medicine, has made no progress
worth remarking for several generations, solely because the
primary facts were not adequately investigated.1

The case of the science of ethics is, in one respect, even less
satisfactory, for whereas the social factor necessarily complicates
matters here to a notable degree, almost the only promise we
have yet of this department of knowledge is the academic name.
Those who have made a faithful study of this nominal science,
can scarcely call into question that theory plays in this science
a prodigiously greater part than fact. Here also the irrelevant
views of common sense and scholasticism are triumphant. One
vainly searches for a systematic treatise telling of the various
notions men and women entertain, and have entertained, on
morals; of the relative place morals occupy in life and mind,
and their relation to other parts of life and mind ; of experiments
to test their genuineness, scope, and limits; of the nature of
the good man, and of the signification of ethical terms ; of the
development of morality in children and also in institutions,
such as charities, hospitals, schools, prisons, etc., etc. — all per-
formed in a thoroughly impartial and scientific spirit, with an
eye to pristine fact and not to prevalent or ancient theories
and philosophies.2

§ 124. (e) Accuracy. — Scrupulous accuracy as to constituents,
form, quality, quantity, time, place, degree, state, changes, and
the categories generally, should be aimed at in observation, and
on this point the present generation of men of science has be-
come almost preternaturally sensitive — with magnificent results.
Accuracy prevents endless complications, and saves, therefore,
much time and thought. Thus he who concluded from his ob-
servations that each expiration emptied the lungs of air and
each inspiration filled them with air, or that the expelled
air had lost all its oxygen, would gravely misrepresent the
facts.

Faraday's infinitely precious rule should guide and inspire
the observer that no need should exist for repeating an ob-
servation or experiment, and we should ever recall that Darwin
"saved a great deal of time through not having to do things
twice". (Frank Cramer, op. cit., p. 29.) The accuracy should
also extend to the statement embodying the observations, and
for the same cogent reasons.

1 The present writer has attempted in his Mind of Man to deal with the
nature of the human mind, apart from tradition and on the methodological
lines sketched in earlier drafts of this volume.

2 In a recent work treating of the methods employed in the sciences, and
consisting of contributions by eminent specialists (De la me~thode dans les
sciences, 1910), M. Levy-Bruhl examines the methods of ethics, and arrives
at the conclusion that not even the beginnings of a science of ethics exist
as yet. In regard to the methods to be employed in ethical enquiries, see
the author's "De la methode dans les recherches des lois de 1'ethique",
in Revue philosophique, January, 1905.

17*

260 PART V.— WORKING STAGE.

The following are some of the conditions contributing to a
high degree of accuracy:—

(a) Being exceedingly well acquainted with one's material and the means
of manipulating it.

(b) Being assured that one's senses (including aids like eye-glasses),
memory, nerves, strength, etc., are "normal"; that instruments and mate-
rials are of a proper kind, of a good quality, and in good condition ; and
that other attendant circumstances— light, temperature, air, comparative
silence, hours of labour, desk, seat, etc.— are satisfactory.

(c) Avoiding diffuse attention, and having the mind continuously, and
just more than sufficiently, concentrated on a task.

(d) Being mindful of, and eliminating where possible, known or habitual
sources of personal and common errors in task observation, memory,
reasoning, and execution, and being responsive to unsuspected ones.

(e) Altering, where practicable, arrangements which lead to the making
of mistakes.

(/) Recording, for personal, group, and social guidance, the various
methods whereby likely mistakes may be (1) circumvented and (2) recti-
fied in a particular task.

(g) Mental readiness to discern difficulties, exceptions, and deviations
of a known order.

(h) Sufficient alertness to detect unanticipated difficulties, exceptions,
and deviations.

(/) Verifying what is not quite obvious and clear.

(y) Taking nothing for granted.

(A) Shunning the habits of doubt, suspicion, and vacillation, which
confuse the mind and induce inaccuracy.

(/) Displaying neatness, or clarity in purpose, in reasoning, and in
execution, without which inaccuracy is frequently inevitable.

(m) Favouring a degree of conspicuousness and distinctness (or separate-
ness), such as facilitates correct apprehension by the senses, the intelli-
gence, and the feelings.

(n) Standardising the best methods for the individual, the group, or
generally, ruling out thereby treacherous idiosyncrasies.

(o) Taking special precautions — by diminution of speed, of risk, etc.,
and by rest or by more concentrated attention — when mental or physical
fatigue supervenes or when appreciable distraction occurs.

The average degree of initial accuracy attained where the
above conditions are respected, may be said to be the equivalent
of average accuracy, plus self-checking, and plus checking by
another. In numerous tasks such accuracy may save fifty per
cent, or more of labour, and in not a few investigations the
saving may be incalculably great.

One example may be provided in illustration. It is said that
the motto "8 hours' work, 8 hours' play, and 8 hours' sleep",
offers an ideal method of dividing up the 24 hours' of a day.
Now let us set out its content in the form of a time table,
assuming Saturday afternoon to be a half-holiday:—

6 to 7.30 attention to the person and breakfast;
7.30 to 8 going to work;
8 to 13 morning's work;

13 to 14 dinner hour;

14 to 18 afternoon's work;
18 to 18.30 going home;
18.30 to 19.30 supper, etc.;

19.30 to 22 time not definitely occupied;
22 to 6 sleep.

SECTION 22.— OBSERVATION. 261

Instead of 8 hours of play, we find therefore a maximum of
21/* hours not accounted for; and if we allow for a little rest,
for family and social duties, for correspondence, etc., the
21/* hours are easily reduced to a maximum of about 1 hour
for each of 4 days, and 2 hours for a 5th day, in the week.
Incidentally this conclusion decisively disposes of the fear lest
the universal introduction of the 8 hours' working day should
create a serious leisure problem for which elaborate preparations
and precautions are required. On the other hand, the younger
worker may find 7 hours' sleep sufficient, in which case the
leisure time may be increased by a full hour for all working
days, while older men engaged on heavy work may sleep
9 hours and have left no leisure at all for the greater part of
the week.

§ 125. (/) Minuteness.— Observation should be minute, and
not only what is palpable to the ordinary observer should be
chronicled. Minute examination, ever increasing in delicacy,
as the history of the sciences illustrates, alone ensures that
the most important facts and factors are not mistaken or in-
advertently overlooked. Compare, for instance, the popular
contention that thought is instantaneous, with the reaction
times in psychology; or the well-known amorphous appearance
of snow-flakes, with their beautiful geometrical structure when
microscopically examined; or consider the delicacy of observation
which revealed the satellites of Mars or the many hundreds of
asteroids, or, more recently, the correctness of Einstein's theory
in regard to the influence of gravitation on light rays; or
ponder the fact that by suitable instruments it has been shown
that each plant produces an abundant quantity of heat in
respiration; or note the perfection of observation which teaches
that plants seemingly devoid of chlorophyll have the green
hidden by some other colour; or that some plants obtain
nitrogen from the air with the help of certain bacteria; or
imagine the action of the radium emanation in the atmosphere
for ever causing infinitesimal amounts of nitrogen to combine
with the oxygen of the air; or think of the method whereby
M. and Mme. Curie obtained from pitch-blende ore a crystalline
salt 1,800,000 times more active than Becquerel's uranium; or
weigh the almost infinite patience exhibited by Mendelian and
other experimenters; or think of the exceedingly minute analysis
of bodily movements by experts in scientific industry. Or con-
sider "letting roots grow along polished marble plates. After
some weeks the marble surface clearly demonstrates the dis-
solving effect of growing roots and root-hairs. Delicate traces
are everywhere etched in the marble surface, where roots have
come into close contact with the plate." (Frederick Czapek,
Chemical Phenomena in Life, 1911, p. 51.) Or note that "minute
traces of iron salts, scarcely to be ascertained by chemical
analysis, possess the power of greatly accelerating growth and

262 PART V.-WORKING STAGE.

respiration." (Ibid., p. 125.) Or note how minute observation
revealed that without the presence of infinitesimal portions of
several classes of as yet unidentified vitamines, an otherwise
perfect diet, consisting of pure proteins, carbohydrates, fats,
and mineral salts, fails to sustain health and life, and that an
addition to such a diet of 2 cc. of milk daily, sufficed to restore
the balance; or remember the shock the layman felt when he
heard (1894) that argon, a constituent of the air far from in-
significant in quantity, had escaped the notice of earlier chemists,
and his gratification at learning that helium, neon, krypton,
and xenon, which were found to exist in the atmosphere, are
present there in the proportion of one part in 245,300, 80,800,
20,000,000, and 170,000,000 parts by volume respectively.

We offer here two detailed instances where minuteness of
observation is strikingly evidenced:—

Edwin S. Goodrich, in the Evolution of Living Organisms, 1912, thus
describes the process of indirect cell division or karyokinesis : "The
chromatin gathers together into a coiled thread, the linin network becomes
disposed as a system of fibres radiating through the cytoplasm from two
minute bodies, the centrosomes. Between these centrosomes the fibres
join across, forming a spindle. The centrosomes can be seen to originate
from the nucleus or its neighbourhood, as a single body which divides,
the two halves moving to the opposite sides of the nucleus. The chro-
matic thread now breaks up into a definite number of separate pieces,
the chromosomes, which arrange themselves in a circle round the equator
of the spindle. Each chromosome now divides into two halves which
travel to the opposite ends of the spindle. There they join together to
form a thread; the thread breaks up into granules; the system of fibres
disappears; and thus a new nucleus is reconstituted, similar to the resting
nucleus of the original cell. A division of the cell-body then yields two
nucleated cells. As a rule the centrosome persists to give rise to that of
the next division. Now it is important to notice the continuity of sub-
stance during this process of division. Cytoplasm, linin, centrosome, and
chromatin are all parcelled out to the two daughter cells; above all, each
daughter nucleus receives the same number of chromosomes, and apparently
exactly the same amount of chromatin." (P. 22.)

The nature of the "internal secretions" produced by certain diminutive
glands, regarded until recently as of no importance, has provided one of
me most fascinating chapters in physiology. "The chemical substances
contained in the internal secretions have been named hormones, or ex-
citants, by Bayliss and Starling. In certain cases the chemists have been
able to isolate these hormones, and in one case the chemical constitution
is known and the substance has been manufactured artificially in the
laboratory. In other cases, and these the majority, they are as yet only
known by their definite stimulating action. Quite recently it has been
shown that bodies similar in nature to the hormones must be present in
our daily diet, or certain typical nutritional diseases are produced. These
hormones are not foods in the sense of being necessary to provide energy
by their combustion; they are only required in minute amounts as ex-
citants, and in their absence certain very specific effects giving the clinical
symptoms of well-known diseases appear. In a liberal and mixed diet all
the necessary hormones required from outside are contained. But, when
the diet is very restricted, such as the rice diet used by the Indian coolie,
unless the thin brownish layer surrounding the inner white part of the
rice be eaten in the daily diet, a disease with marked nervous lesions
appears, called beri-beri. This disease long puzzled medical scientists,
but it is now clearly shown to be caused by the absence from the diet

SECTION 22.— OBSERVATION. 263

of an excitant contained in the outer layer of the rice. Addition of this
cleaned-off material in small amounts prevents, or relieves, the disease.
A similar condition can be produced in pigeons or fowls fed experimentally
on polished rice (as the European product with the outer layer removed
is called), and can be relieved immediately by small amounts of extracts
of the rice polish ings. Infantile scurvy is an example of an infantile
disease of our own country produced by restricted diet in a similar manner.
As Barlow first showed, it may rapidly be cured by treatment with fresh
vegetables, such as the portion of potato lying below the rind, or fresh
fruit of different kinds. There is little doubt that rickets and ship's
scurvy, which are now being investigated, will prove diseases of a similar
kind.

"These are examples of external hormones from outside the body
required in the daily food, but the body cells within require to manu-
facture internal hormones, to establish important correlating functions.
If the nervous system be compared to the telephonic or telegraphic system,
then these internal hormones might represent the postal system of the
body by which one part is kept in touch with another. The chemical
intercommunication of the hormones is slower than that of the nervous
system, but more detailed and complete.

"There exist in the body a number of glands with no external secre-
tions or obvious uses which were a great mystery to the earlier anatomists
and physiologists, who called them 'bodies' or 'capsules' and left the
matter at that. The chief of these are called the suprarenals, the thyroids,
the para-thyrpids, and the pituitary. It is now known that these are active
secreting glands, and in spite of their small size, and obscurity of function,
are absolutely essential to the life of the animal. Their removal invariably
causes death in a few days' to a few months' time, and any marked
disturbance of their function in the direction either of excess or defect
produces profound disease, often of a fatal character." (Benjamin Moore,
The Origin- and Nature of Life, pp. 232-235.)

More marvellous still is the action on the processes of life of the until
recently unsuspected enzymes. "Most, perhaps all, of the processes of
metabolism, take place with the help of special proteins, known as fer-
ments or enzymes, which have the property of facilitating and hastening
chemical actions. Just as a small trace of platinum black will cause an
indefinitely large amount of hydrogen peroxide (HaOa) to decompose into
oxygen and water, so a small quantity of ferment will cause an indefinitely
large amount of carbohydrate, fat, or protein, to break up into simpler
substances. Such ferments, which are not themselves affected, and which
are not involved in the end products of the actions they facilitate, are
called catalytic, and play a most important part in the mechanism of life."
(Edwin S. Goodrich, op. c/Y., pp. 12-13.)1

§ 126. (g) Wide, Varied, and Discriminating Observation.—
We should not only inspect an appreciable number of instances,
but we should take heed that we diligently search for variations
and for circumstances which contradict partly or wholly the
hypothesis which we are endeavouring to substantiate. For
example, "gun cotton can usually be burned in the open air
without exploding. Yet, when it is exploded by detonation, its
power is not much inferior to that of nitroglycerin". (Blanchard
and Wade, Foundations of Chemistry, 1914, p. 423.) Innumerable
samples, culled from every imaginable and likely or unlikely
source near and far in space and time should be scrutinised.
One might roughly say that observation should be from twenty

1 On this subject consult James Beatty, The Method of Enzyme Action, 1917.

264

PART V.— WORKING STAGE.

to fifty times more abundant, wide, studiously varied, and dis-
criminating than it is at present outside first-class scientific
enquiries. Luther Burbank's surprising successes in improving
and transforming fruits and flowers, which have gained him the
title of the wizard of California, are largely to be traced to his
observations extending frequently to tens of thousands of spe-
cimens and over a long period of years.1 Darwin was inde-
fatigable in varying his experiments : "Wherever it was possible
in his experiments, he varied the amount of a cause in order
to note the proportionate variation in the amount of the effect ;
and where he had to depend upon observation alone, he made
strenuous efforts to connect extreme instances by gradations
of character." (Frank Cramer, op.czY., p. 56.)

The local inter-relations between plants emphasise the need of wide,
varied, and discriminating observation. The botanist offers us here a
singularly felicitous picture. "The series of different kinds of plants
playing 'follow my leader' into the fresh water ponds is another good
illustration of the power of the unaided plants to change the nature of
a given spot. Into the open water of a mere or pond, with its minute
flora of microscopic algge, push out the underground rhizomes of the
Phragmites reed and the Bulrushes. They send up tall shafts with leaves
and flowers, and in the autumn these die down, and the half rotting and
fibrous remains are tangled together with the roots and rhizomes, and all
tends to catch any further fragments or detritus that is drifting in the
water. Gradually, by this means, the reeds collect a soil which tends to
make the edge of the pond shallower, so that the Bog-Bean and other
shallow water plants can come in and help in the work till so much soil
is accumulated that the water is quite shallow, and rushes and Queen of
the Meadow and King Cups grow on little marshy mounds with water all
round them. These close up, and grasses and sedges and buttercups grow
in between, and the land is almost firm and established enough to be
called meadowland. Behind the grassy strip creeps down the forest, and
the trees, keeping their distance behind the zone of grass, advance with
its advancing edge till in time the opposite shores meet and the forest
closes over the space once occupied by the pond. When this has hap-
pened, we see that the one community of plants, viz., the woodland, has
ousted the other, the community of water plants. It is not only indi-
viduals that struggle against each other, but whole communities that
usurp each other's place. Here, indeed, we can hardly say that there is
a struggle between the land and the water plants and those of the shallow
shore, because by their natural growth and accumulation the former merely
follow on where the latter have, by their own growth, rendered the place
no longer suitable for themselves, but well adapted for those which need
a built-up soil.

"Recently it has been recognised that there are definite laws which
govern the series of communities that inhabit a region, and a trained
ecologist, seeing one set of plants growing under certain conditions, can
predict accurately what type of community will follow it — always supposing
that there is no great physical change, such as would be caused by the
sweeping away of the land by a great flood or its disturbance by a landslide.

'"We have long had various shades of black and crimson and white
poppies, but no shade of blue. Out of 200,000 seedlings I found one showing
a faintest trace of sky blue and planted the seed from it, and got next year
one pretty blue one out of the many thousands, and now I have one almost
pure blue.'" (Luther Burbank, as quoted by D. S. Jordan and M. L. Kellogg,
Ifie Scientific Aspects of Luther Burbank's Work, 1909, pp. 101-102.)

SECTION 22— OBSERVATION. 265

"'When such a case as this occurs, and we have bare fresh land exposed,
it is of interest to watch the way it is colonised. The general law that
is followed is a series of changes, first from an entirely bare space to one
with a few species scattered at fairly regular wide intervals over the sur-
face, then by more species, the individuals growing closer together, but
each still with space to develop completely. At this stage there are
generally a very considerable number of species in proportion to the actual
number of individuals. Then the species really adapted to the soil and
the conditions begin to take a firm hold, and they grow more crowded
together and oust the others, till at the end, when the vegetation for the
spot is firmly established, there are great numbers of individuals which
completely cover the ground, but there are comparatively few species."1
(Marie Stopes, Botany, 1912, pp. 55-57.)

§ 127. (h) Exhaustive or Full Observation. — Examination
should be repeated from time to time, long after a case appears
established. A measure full and unmistakably running over
should be applied. There need to be incessant trials and varia-
tions in modes of procedure in order to ensure that nothing
material has escaped detection.

When, however, we state that observation should be exhaus-
tive and full we mean that a liberal number of samples, derived
from the most varied sources, far and wide, has been accu-
rately and minutely examined. To ascertain, for instance, the
body's sensibility to touch or temperature, something like a
complete and minute examination of the surface of the body
may be desirable, and it is also indispensable that the examina-
tion should be repeated in part and wholly at different times, in
different places, and on sundry different bodies; but it would
be madness to settle down to an interminable series of exa-
minations. As Poincare (Science et methode, 1908, p. 8) well
says: "While the man of science discovers one fact, billions
upon billions take place in a cubic millimetre of his body."
Consequently, we signify by exhaustive examination, inspection
which ensures that we have satisfactorily examined a typical
sample of fact, with its more important variations, and not all
the facts as such.2

To furnish one example. Calculations purporting to give the
minimum annual cost of healthy and decent living for a standard
family of five in a certain locality and climate (allowing for
different seasons) should at least comprise food ; rent ; wearing
apparel (including repairs); lighting; fuel (for warming rooms

1 The problems of commensality and symbiosis are of a kindred nature,
and are well worth the attention of the methodologist. See on the subject
J. Arthur Thomson, The Study of Animal Life, 1917.

2 "One of the most striking things in Darwin's Autobiography is the re-
lative importance . . . which he assigns, in his analysis of his own educa-
tion, to the accumulation of facts and to the development of mental habits."
(Life and Letters of Charles Darwin, vol. 1, pp. 51-52.) Darwin "always
wished to learn as much as possible from an experiment, so that he did not
confine himself to observing the single point to which the experiment was
directed, and his power of seeing a number of things was wonderful."
(Frank Cramer, op. cit., pp. 29-30.)

266 PART V.-WORKING STAGE.

and bath, cooking, etc.) and firewood; rates and taxes; trade
union, political, church, and charitable contributions; full in-
surance and provision against illness, industrial and other
accidents, invalidity, unemployment, strikes, lock-outs, child
birth, old age, death (most especially of breadwinner), fire,
flood, and. burglary; household medicines ; occasional days lost ;
regular and irregular fares (bicycle) and papers; smoking and
drinking; stationery, other writing adjuncts, and postage ; home
shaving and barber; teeth, eye, ear, nose, and throat specialists;
soap, soda, and other materials for cleansing, toilet, mending,
and boot polishing; matches; some laundry out; one person's
aid one day weekly; recreation (including club subscriptions,
cinema, theatre, music hall, concert, and statutory holidays and
vacations) ; buying, repairing, and replacing of furniture, orna-
ments, linen, crockery, glass, eating implements (forks, knives, and
spoons), kitchen utensils, fireplace accessories, and other house-
hold articles, as well as pocket articles (purse, penknife, pencil,
fountain pen, diary, note case, watch, spectacles, toothpick, nail
cleaner, mirror, comb) and repairs of household and personal
articles generally; moving; children's education, toys, and
sweetmeats; adult education (including also books and music);
cat or dog; hobbies and pets; birthday, Christmas, marriage,
and other festivals and presents ; flowers ; visiting and visitors ;
a certain wages percentage of savings; a minimum for extra
needs and luxuries; pocket expenses; and miscellaneous.1

§ 128. (z) Prolonged and Continuous Observation, and
taking note of Proportion. — Certain pills may exercise an
immediate desirable effect on the human system, but yet tend
to aggravate certain indispositions; physical exercise may, on
the other hand, at the commencement appear to prostrate the
body, while gradually steeling it; potatoes, again, may contain
a very small proportion of the anti-scorbutic factor, but the
considerable quantity ordinarily eaten, compensates for this;
and a certain treatment or neglect may only have visible con-
sequences weeks or months afterwards or at certain stages
of life. Similarly, the likelihood of the incessant forming and
unforming of habits needs to enter into all calculations re-
lating to character and conduct. For these varied reasons
distant effects should not be ignored. The prohibition of
monastic orders in France, for instance, created perplexing
problems in some of the countries to which the orders migrated,
and the establishment of a Bolshevist government in Russia
engendered an almost universal appetite and horror for Soviet
rule in the working and employing classes respectively. There
is also the profoundly important problem of desired, but still
unexperienced, pleasures which fascinate, and are apparently

1 For a minimum quantity budget, see Royal Meeker, Monthly Labor
Review, Washington, June, 1920, pp. 1-18.

SECTION 22.— OBSERVATION. 267

far more alluring than those actually experienced. Here the
intrinsic drabness of all pleasures when once experienced is
forgotten, with the disastrous consequence that legions of men
and women are for ever craving and remain for ever unsatis-
fied. They appear to be unaware that only a healthy, joyous
temperament is apt to find pleasures everywhere and ex-
periences comparatively unalloyed and unebbing happiness.
Therefore only when we have ascertained the law of a fact
are we safe, and hence in the absence of appropriate knowledge
we must be eternally vigilant, and not rest satisfied with
immediate or partial results or impressions.

Quantity may also issue in an appreciable or even crucial
difference. One excellent poem or speech no more makes a
great poet or great orator than one swallow makes a summer;
whether a handful or a million people are interested in a politi-
cal question, creates a vital distinction; infinitesimal objects
are difficult to detect; and the impossibility of collecting appreci-
able quantities, as of radium, restricts the sphere of experi-
mentation. Thus, again, by selecting a particular sun-spot for
observation and watching it, we discover that it passes from
the eastern extremity of the disc to its western extremity in
about twelve days, disappears for a period of the same length,
then reappears, demonstrating that the sun rotates round its
axis in approximately twelve days. The destructive action of
the sea on its shores, of the river on its channel, and of the
glacier on its bed, are further apposite illustrations of cumu-
lative effects which require prolonged observation. Already
Lucretius noted this aspect of nature : "After the revolution of
many of the sun's years a ring on the finger is thinned on the
under-side by wearing, the dripping from the eaves hollows a
stone, the bent ploughshare of iron imperceptibly decreases in
the fields, and we behold the stone-paved streets worn down
by the feet of the multitude ; the brass statues too at the gates
show their right hands to be wasted by the touch of the
numerous passers-by who greet them." (On the Nature of
Things, Book 1.)

§ 129. (y) Quantitative Observation.— At least the carefully
calculated average number, size, form, parts, texture, weight,
prevalence, distribution, frequency, periodicity, of the object,
process, or force should be supplied. (See Modal Aspects in
table of Primary Categories.) Statements concerning objects
should assume as nearly as possible mathematical, or at least
definite, form, and exact enumeration, measurement, computa-
tion, and statistical statement, should be resorted to where prac-
ticable. Until the quantitative stage has been reached, we are
properly outside the domain of science, and where this aspect
is not highly developed, we can scarcely speak of a highly
developed science. Words, such as often, far, much, large, fine,
should be used sparingly on account of their indefiniteness.

268 PART V.— WORKING STAGE.

Quantitative accuracy should be naturally proportionate to the
needs of the investigation. Calculable relations, of the kind
enumerated in our table of Primary Categories, need special
attention.

§ 130. (K) Instruments.— Observation should be, wherever
possible, instrumental. Dynamometers, ergographs, telescopes,
spectroscopes, transparent and graded glass vessels, scales,
diagrams, etc., and mathematical methods and formula? should
be employed. Instruments should be adapted, or new instru-
ments invented, to suit novel requirements. The unassisted
senses have wrested little from nature: they are altogether
too gross and clumsy for this purpose. The acquired capacity
of devising fresh and effective instruments constitutes, in some
sciences, an integral portion of the outfit of the man of science,
though enterprising firms of instrument makers materially
second his efforts. While the naked eye can detect only about
3000 stars, instruments acquaint us with a 100,000,000, and
while the reason wonders what the ocean depths harbour, the
deep-sea dredge lays their marvels at our feet.

§ 131. (/) Experiment.— Observation should, of course, as-
sume the form of experiment when circumstances are propitious.
A scrupulously arranged and conducted experiment, for instance
as to the solubility of food-stuffs with and without the ad-
mixture of certain glandular juices, singles out constituents and
factors with the greatest assurance, but only when Conclusions 5
and 20 are complied with. Consider the problem of the pro-
tective value of colouring: "An Italian naturalist, Cesnola,
tethered twenty green mantis among green herbage and twenty
brown mantis among withered herbage; they were all alive
seventeen days afterwards. He then tethered brown mantis in
a green environment, and green in brown grass, and found
that thirty-five out of forty-five were devoured within seventeen
days. Professor Poulten . . . fastened 600 pupa? on leaves,
fences, etc., and found that the mortality of the more con-
spicuous was ninety-two per cent. Professor Davenport found
that, of 300 chickens in a field, twenty-four were quickly killed
by crows, and that only one of the twenty-four was of the
less conspicuous spotted variety." (Joseph McCabe, The Prin-
ciples of Evolution, 1913, p. 117.) Or examine a very simple
problem. Walking in a certain direction at the rate of 3 J/2 miles
per hour, I experience no wind; returning at the same rate
in the opposite direction, I calculate the velocity of the wind
to be apparently 7 miles per hour. Standing still, however, I
simplify the conditions to the utmost, and am enabled to decide
whether there is a wind blowing and, if so, what is its direc-
tion and velocity.

Experiments are sadly needed to solve some of the problems
of heredity and instinct. Thus, as already adverted to, various
specimens of each of the domestic and of some other animals

SECTION 22.— OBSERVATION. 269

should be completely separated from their kind from the time
of birth to full maturity, in order to resolve what is owing to
contact with others of their species, and what is not. This may
be afterwards varied by rearing members of one species with
members of another species, and by attempts at changing the
environment in diverse ways for the purpose of ascertaining
the adaptability of a species. The same class of experiment
might be resorted to for the purpose of ascertaining how far
the characteristics of the members of one race, nation, class,
or family, are due to heredity or environment. Here, of course,
where the experiment is restricted to the human species, it
needs to be understood that the child should be unaware that
it is adopted, and also that the foster parents should treat the
child as their own. In the case of man, the problem may be
also elucidated by indirect experiments, e.g., by studying the
adaptability to varied social conditions of adopted children and
the lives of individuals settled or educated abroad, and likewise
by examining the re-active influences of an exotic religion, as
of Islam in India, or tracing the social adaptability of the
members of the same quasi-race in various countries, as in the
history of the Jews, or inquiring into the effects of wholesale
immigration, as in the United States, on the mental characte-
ristics of the immigrants and their hosts. In any new sphere
simple observation, with and without instruments, should precede
experimental observation of a refined and quantitative nature,
and the value of the latter is comparatively small where, as
in the organic and cultural sciences, the issues are either com-
plicated or still in an inchoate state. Experiment is to instru-
mental observation what the latter is to unaided observation.
In varying an experiment of any kind, more especially Con-
clusions 27 and 28 should be applied. Finally, it should be
remembered that truly scientific experiments are rigidly quanti-
tative and strictly segregate individual facts and factors.

§ 132. (/n) Similarities. — Observations should not slur over
any similarities, however different the accompanying circum-
stances and however unsuggestive at first the resemblances
seem. The discovery of the identity of the electric spark and
of the lightning is a case in point.

Of course, all rational observation consists in grouping objects
according to their similarities; but for the very purpose of
disclosing resemblances we needs must, to begin with, strive
also to ascertain all the existing variations relative to our
enquiry.1

1 Darwin rightly expatiates on the importance of homologies : "What can
be more curious than that the hand of a man, formed for grasping, that of
a mole for digging, the leg of the horse, the paddle of the porpoise, and
the wing of the bat, should all be constructed on the same pattern, and
should include similar bones, in the same relative positions? How curious
it is, to give a subordinate though striking instance, that the hind-feet of

270 PART V.— WORKING STAGE.

§ 133. (n) Relevant Observation.— To commence seriously
the work of observation in any particular instance without
making preliminary observations, would render observation a
very circumlocutory proceeding. In examining an object, to
be obliged to valuate the influence of the stars, the light, the
temperature, the atmosphere, the dust, the surrounding objects,
the noises in the neighbourhood, the distant past, and the
thousand other latencies, would be disheartening. Yet the
greatest circumspection is requisite that no relevant facts are
passed over or classed as irrelevant, as, for instance, the direct
influence of sunspots on magnetic storms, of the sun and moon
on the tides, the sun on the leaves of plants, the times of day
and night on leaves and flowers, and the time of year on growth.
The attempt to reach the absolute zero of temperature and to
produce the highest possible degrees of heat is, for example,
of far-reaching importance, but such problems should be treated
separately, and not in connection with every enquiry.

§ 134. (o) Rational Observation. — Not only should the ir-
relevant environment be left unexamined, but sundry features,
as the precise configuration of an ordinary object, and hosts
of other aspects, should be generally disregarded. A danger
exists here that we shall consider as irrational what is rational ;
practice, however, will reduce the danger to a minimum. To
endeavour to provide the exact configuration of every leaf, or
the exact drawing of the veins in each leaf, would be irrational,
and yet even of these some very definite conception, even of
a quantitative and dynamic character, should be supplied.1 For
similar reasons, we only study objects so far as they relate to
a particular investigation. (See § 170.)

§ 135. (p) Rapidity and Resourcefulness. — Observation should
be rapid and the observer resourceful. Action should not be
paralysed by inaccuracy, by blundering awkwardness, by per-
sistent speculation, by overcautiousness or vacillation, or by
lack of method or resourcefulness. The immediate task needs
to be clearly conceived and energetically executed, without any
hitch or superfluous labour.

He who is intelligent, has an unmistakable desire to effect
his purpose expeditiously, and, if trained and practised, will

the kangaroo, which are so well fitted for bounding over the open plains,—
those of the climbing, leaf-eating koala, equally well fitted for grasping the
branches of trees,— those of the ground-dwelling, insect or root eating,
bandicots,— and those of some other Australian marsupials, should all be
constructed on the same extraordinary type, namely with the bones of the
second and third digits extremely slender and enveloped within the same
skin, so that they appear like a single toe furnished with two claws. Not-
withstanding this similarity of pattern, it is obvious that the hind-feet of
these several animals are used for as widely different purposes as it is
possible to conceive." (Origin of Species, Chapter 14, Section "Morphology".)
Josiah Royce, in Encyclopaedia of Philosophy, vol. 1, 1913, deals with
the nature of a "fair sample".

SECTION 22.— OBSERVATION. 271

act in conformity with the principles developed at length in
Conclusion 10, to which we accordingly refer the reader.

Rapidity is a most desirable virtue. Consider, as an example,
the late Lord Avebury. He was during his life-time president
of some fifteen learned societies; he wrote over twenty volumes
on almost as many topics, a number of them of marked scienti-
fic value ; he contributed over a hundred memoirs to the Trans-
actions of the Royal Society ; he was a well-known constructive
politician and a supporter of many causes; and at the same
time he acted as one of the heads of a great banking firm and
was the chairman of the London Bankers and the president
of the Central Association of English Bankers. Darwin wrote
a dozen large works of the first order, though he was far from
robust in health. John Stuart Mill, whilst busy as an official
of the East India Company all his life, published a quantity of
classic treatises. Aristotle's intellectual output was no less re-
markable for its variety than for its quality. Consequently,
there is good reason for surmising that a colossal preventable
wastage of energy is the rule with most scholars. Those who
are quick, no doubt compass what they desire with the ex-
penditure of a minimum of energy. Lord Avebury, whom the
author had the privilege of knowing, certainly appeared neither
feverishly preoccupied nor engaged in a breathless race. On
the contrary, he was one of the most lejsurely scholars he
has been acquainted with.

He who has really a rooted desire to be swift will also tend
to be resourceful. Accordingly we shall state some of the rules
conducing to resourcefulness:

(a) Take for granted that most minor difficulties are easily resolved;
that most ordinary difficulties are really minor difficulties; and that
ready adaptability is the chief secret of resourcefulness.

(b) Be well acquainted with your subject: this will enable you to meet
many difficulties, since most present contingencies contain no novel
element.

(c) Hold fast, adapt, and generalise to the furthest degree for future
use, any ingenious method or idea, positive or critical, suggested by ac-
cident or otherwise.

(rf) Heed the manifold lessons of experience: this will frequently help
you to remember solved difficulties identical or similar to the one which
perplexes you.

(e) Be guided also by the lessons taught by the experience of others,
especially of those who are resourceful.

(/) To meet a particular case freely exploit (1) every cranny of the
past for relevant recollections and (2) near and distant analogies relating
to past and present.

(g) Ascertain the precise problem and find any method which will
resolve it. Example: Should the birds keep you awake in the early
morning, or the traffic at night, deal with the precise problem — loud
sounds,* to which one simple solution might be — cotton wool in the ears.

1 In connection with the nightly rest, this is a social problem of the first
magnitude in towns, to which it would be highly desirable to find a simple
solution. Neither closed windows nor living in suburbs offers the ideal

272 PART V.— WORKING STAGE.

(h) Grow accustomed to meet any difficulty by any convenient and

lawful means.

(/) If one condition— e.g., a particular time, place, degree, size, number,
environment, connection, etc.,-is not satisfactory, probably another will
be. (Example: 10" o'clock or 12 o'clock will probably do for an appointment
as well as 11 o'clock.)

(/) If one means or object is not satisfactory, probably another will be.

(A) Define the problem in the largest term, e.g., something to resolve
or to fasten, some habit or receptacle, something to be made sure of or
secure, some attractive or heavy object— and then seek its solution. (Ex-
ample: if a certain receptacle is inaccessible, another, never mind its
form, size, or ordinary use, may be at our disposal.)

(/) When you cannot obtain an object one way, try another and other
ways, and endeavour also to remember other, and others', ways.

(m) Assume that virtually everything can be accomplished, and that
it can be accomplished in more ways than one, and better.

(n) Even if one way will effect your purpose, essay other ways for
practice and delight.

(o) Undergo a course of training in resourcefulness, and periodically
experiment systematically and on an extensive scale by yourself.

§ 136. (q) Graded, Comprehensive, Important, Full, Rational
and Relevant, Original, Automatically Initiated, and Methodi-
cally Developed Observation.— Conclusion 25 deals indirectly,
but amply, with these aspects of observation, so far as they
are not already touched on in this Conclusion. We therefore
refrain from illustrating the latter in this place.

Lotze has many excellent remarks concerning observation; but he
scarcely meets the points mentioned in the above Conclusion. As to wide
observation, for instance, he only states: "The individual subjects from
the observation of which we start must be very numerous." (Logic,
vol. 2, p. 33.) Bain vaguely refers to "wide comparison of particulars".
(Logic, vol. 2, p. 403.) It is poor consolation when he adds: "The pre-
cautions common to all kinds of observation, in regard to accuracy and
evidence, would be worthy of being recited, provided there could be given
a sufficiency of illustrative instances to make the desired impression."
(Ibid., p. 414.) If, as Jevons (Principles of Science, p. 399) says, "all know-
ledge proceeds originally from experience", then no effort can be too
sustained to make sure that the raw material of thought shall be of an
irreproachable character. Whewell also expresses himself prophetically:
"Methods of observation and of induction might of themselves form an
abundant subject for a treatise, and hereafter will probably do so, in the
hands of future writers." (Novum Organum Renovatum, p. 144.) Mill
asserts: "It would be possible to point out what qualities of mind, and
modes of mental culture fit a person for being a good observer: that,
however, is a question not of Logic, but of the Theory of Education, in'
the most enlarged sense of the term. There is not properly an Art of
Observing. There may be rules for observing. But these, like rules for
inventing, are properly instructions for the preparation of one's own mind ;
for putting it into the state in which it will be most fitted to observe,
or most likely to invent. They are, therefore, essentially rules of self-
education, which is a different thing from Logic. They do not teach how
to do the thing, but how to make ourselves capable of doing it. They

answer required. Direct protection of the ears from aggressive sounds, it
appears, should rather be aimed at. (The author has empirically, and some-
what crudely, solved the problem for himself by covering both his ears
with his bed pillow in going to sleep and in the early morning when dis-
turbed.)

SECTION 22— OBSERVATION. 273

are an art of strengthening the limbs, not an art of using them". (Logic,
bk. 3, ch. 7, § 1.) Thomas Fowler (Logic, Deductive and Inductive, vol. 2,
pp. 45-50) furnishes four rules pertaining to observation and experiment.
The following instances form extreme illustrations of theories based on
inadequate observation: "It appears that, whenever oats sown at the usual
time are kept cropped down during summer and autumn, and allowed
to remain over the winter, a thin crop of rye is the harvest presented
at the close of the ensuing summer. This experiment has been tried
repeatedly, with but one result: invariably the Secale cereale is the crop
reaped where the Avena saliva, a recognised different genus, was sown."
(Robert Chambers, Vestiges of the Natural History of Creation, ed. 1887,
pp. 166-167.) And a qualified scientific populariser, Mr. Edward Clodd, in
his work, The Story of Creation, tells an equally dubious tale, since
the exploits of St. Bernard dogs appear to be legendary in character :
"An interesting illustration of this was supplied by a St. Bernard dog
belonging to a relative. The dog was born in London and taken into the
country when a puppy. After a few months a sharp fall of snow happened,
and 'Ju', who had never seen snow before, was frantic to get outdoors.
When she was set free, she rolled in the snow, bit it, and dug it up with
her claws as if rescuing some buried traveller. The same excitement was
shown whenever snow fell." (P. 114.) A more interesting case even is
the alleged proof of the non-existence of spontaneous generation by boiling
the water which might presumably contain germs, and the counter claim
that such boiling destroys the conditions necessary for spontaneous genera-
tion. The difficulty of correct observation is also well exemplified in the
modern instance where a supposed organic form, christened the Eozodn
canadense, has been shown to be an inorganic substance, or in the more
recent circumstance where doubt has been cast on the human origin of
certain eoliths.

We have intentionally omitted a series of points concerning
observation, which, we deemed, require special treatment. We
shall now proceed to consider these.

CONCLUSION 17.
Need of Critically Examining the Reality of Alleged Divisions.1

§ 137. (A) Complex Facts regarded as Simple. — In com-
mencing an investigation we should not assume that we are
dealing with isolated entities, without first ascertaining whether
this is so in fact. Under a close scrutiny the air proved to
consist virtually of two elements and to contain a number of
others; the nitrogen of the air was shown, further, to have
associated with it argon, and, in close connection with argon,
Ramsay and others found three more elements — neon, krypton,
and xenon— these, with helium, constituting the rare gases of the
atmosphere; the seemingly homogeneous air has been divided
into a lower Troposphere, where the temperature of the air
varies always both horizontally and vertically, and an upper
Stratosphere, where it only varies horizontally. Common salt,
on more careful examination, proved to be a compound; oxygen,

1 "No one can divide things truly who has not a full knowledge of their
nature." (Bacon, The Alphabet of Nature.)

18

PART V.— WORKING STAGE.

carbon, phosphorus, and sulphur were shown to have allotropic
forms, and the same fact, expressed as isomerism, was traced
in many compounds; radium was found to decompose into a
variety of elements, including helium ; the consumed taper and
the evaporated water were shown to persist in an altered form ;
for want of a critical attitude, the ancients spoke of earth,
water, fire, and air as the four elements, and only dimly dis-
tinguished as a rule between copper, bronze, and brass, whilst
until two centuries ago, all gases were regarded as the elemen-
tary substance air, modified by impurities; the blood proved
to be a treasure house of varied substances; the process of
digestion, instead of being carried on, as common sense sup-
posed, in the stomach alone and by some simple method, proves
to be an exceedingly lengthy and complicated process, com-
mencing with mastication and salivation, and continuing some
time after the modified food has left the stomach; and severe
epidemics were traced to certain animal parasites rather than
to the animals which carried the parasites. Death is regarded
as a sudden cessation of life, when the heart may be made
to renew its beating in certain conditions thirty hours after-
wards, when the beard and the nails continue growing, and
when the protoplasm in diverse parts is unaffected for some
time afterwards. The old atomic theory suggested the existence
of a simple atom, whilst the new atomic theory resolves the
atom into a complex system. The average townsman cannot
tell from the notes in the wood whether he hears many birds
or one; martin and swallow, or rook and crow, represent for
him a single species, and he fails to distinguish closely allied
kinds of flowers and trees; all grasses are grass to him. In
the mental realm, on this same account, the phrenologists
neglected the simple and general principles of mind, and most
students have been led to believe that the senses offer their
own explanation. This is true also of many popular terms, such
as beauty, imagination, skill, genius, character, goodness, truth,
love, etc. Piece-work seems fair, until we learn that increased
output may lead to a proportionate decrease of price per piece ;
gratuities may appear defensible, until we learn that a waiter
may actually have to pay for his post ; obedience loses its virtue
when it induces tyranny in the master; and wages lose their
simplicity, when the cost of living is taken into account. Or
to cite an example from anthropology, one of many similar
ones with which Prof. Franz Boas deals: "One of the striking
forms of social organisation which occurs in many religions
wide apart is what we called 'totemism' — a form of society in
which certain social groups consider themselves as related in a
supernatural way to a certain species of animals or to a certain
class of objects. I believe this is the generally accepted defini-
tion of 'totemism'; but I am convinced that in this form the
phenomenon is not a single psychological problem, but em-

SECTION 22— OBSERVATION. 275

braces the most diverse psychological elements. In some cases
people believe themselves to be descendants of the animal
whose protection they enjoy. In other cases an animal or some
other object may have appeared to an ancestor of the social
group, and may have promised to become his protector, and
the friendship between the animal and the ancestor was then
transmitted to his descendants. In still other cases a certain
social group in a tribe may have the power of securing by
magical means and with great ease a certain kind of animal
or of increasing its numbers, and the supernatural relation may
be established in this way." (The Mind of Primitive Man, 1911,
pp. 190-191.) Lastly, it is very general, for psychological
reasons, to favour a tripartite classification of facts, when the
number should be far higher as a rule. At all times, in short,
men have regarded the complex as simple and that which is
divisible as indivisible, and have been seriously deceived on
this account.

In the fiftieth aphorism of the first book of his Novum
Organum Bacon places his finger on the weakest spot in all
non-scientific speculation. He acutely remarks that "speculation
commonly ceases where sight ceases; inasmuch that of things
invisible there is little or no observation". Almost the entire
history of science is an exemplification of this aphorism, for
that which strikes the unassisted senses is most generally of
small consequence in leading to scientific advance. We have
only to think of chemical elements and their modes of com-
bining, of the constitution of the air, of heat, light, and electri-
city, of the formation of the strata of the earth, of protoplasm,
and of the cell structure of all that lives, of the assimilation
of food by plants and animals, of the specio-historical character
of man's mental outfit, of the bacterial origin of many diseases,
to appreciate the fact that the subtlety of nature escapes ordinary
perception, and that non-scientific or common speculation, must
needs be barren and erroneous since it is necessarily based
on unaided perception which brings together what is separate
and separates what is united.1 Darwin rightly watched for ex-
ceptions, because these alone, generally speaking, point to
primary factors, whereas what is present to vision as such is

1 The recent investigations relating to radio-activity illustrate the above con-
tention: "The quantity of radium present in pitch-blende is extremely small,
many tons of the material yielding, after long and tedious work, only a small
fraction of a gramme of an impure salt of radium." (Whetham, The Recent
Development of Physical Science, 1904, p. 202.) Likewise, " Sir William Roberts-
Austen has shown that gold, if placed in intimate contact with lead, will
diffuse at ordinary temperatures to such an extent that, after the lapse of
some years, it can be detected in the lead by chemical analysis at distances
of a millimetre or more from the surface of contact."^ (Ibid., p. 247.) Also,
many metals occlude or absorb considerable quantities of hydrogen and
certain quantities of oxygen. (A. H. Hiorns, Principles of Metallurgy, 1914,
pp. 10-11.)-

276

PART V— WORKING STAGE.

habitually a highly complex compound already tainted with an
interpretation which is convenient only for practical purposes.
As Jevons (Principles of Science, p. 506) contends: "A pheno-
menon which seems simple is, in all probability, really complex,
and unless the mind is actively engaged in looking for particular
details, it is likely that the critical circumstances will be passed
over."' And in another place he asserts that "the progress of
science depends on the study of exceptional phenomena". (Ibid.,
p. 644.) Sir John Herschel spoke without hesitancy when ad-
verting to the attitude of the scientific thinker: "He will have his
eyes as it were opened, that they may be struck at once with
any occurrence which, according to received theories, ought not
to happen, for these", he significantly adds, "are the facts which
serve as clues to new discoveries." (Discourse, [127.].) Without
alertly watching for exceptions to supposed laws, we are not
likely to discover the primary constituents and factors.

§ 138. (B) Simple Facts regarded as Complex.— We should
also specifically guard against the opposite misapprehension of
surmising complexity where there is simplicity. This is too
evident to need labouring. The Universe is a multiverse to
the mass of mankind. At one time the hundreds of thousands
of species were accounted for by special creation; the tower
of Babel was evolved to explain the diversity of tongues ; and
earth, moon, sun, and planets were regarded as independent
entities. The layman sees innumerable kinds of rock where
the geologist discerns only sandstone, granite, and limestone;
he counts many orders of clouds where the meteorologist dis-
tinguishes only three— cirrus, cumulus, and stratus; he opines
numerous ways of communicating heat where the physicist
speaks of conduction, convection, and radiation; he conceives
sunstroke as only due to heat, when chemical and other factors
are involved ; he assumes diamond, graphite, lamp black, and pure
charcoal to be essentially different, when they are each forms of
carbon ; and he sees bodies, where the chemist recognises com-
pound molecules and the biologist compound cells. So, again, the
older chemists rigidly separated inorganic from organic chemistry,
the latter being dependent, according to them, on a vital principle ;
and now compounds are found to be related to higher com-
pounds as elements or radicles. The polygenetic theory of races
had many defenders, and in social matters special explanations for
individual occurrences, such as individual idleness or stupidity,
are proffered where general explanations — economic chaos or
an unsatisfactory educational system, for instance— are rightly
in place. If we analyse, again, an emotion, we shall probably
note that the definition properly comprises a mental excitement
aroused directly by some definite disturbing object or idea,
accompanied by a concomitant physical excitement, and ex-
cludes a host of facts usually included through inadequate
analysis -such as natural inclination, sentiment, temperament,

SECTION 22.—OBSER VA TION. 277

and moods.1 An analysis of pleasure-pain furnishes analogous
conclusions.

§ 139. (C) Environment Ignored. — Another aspect of our
problem needs also to be considered here. If one substance,
as shown in (A), may be so intimately joined to another that
the two appear as one unless painstakingly examined, another
substance may depend on some factor in its immediate en-
vironment— e.g., many diseases are traceable to parasites—
and we may gloss over this factor, and seek to explain the
behaviour of the substance without regard to its surroundings.
Many illustrations of this oversight may be found in the realm
of specio-psychics. We explain French style, Italian art, German
scholarship, and English colonising skill by certain alleged in-
dwelling powers in the individuals belonging to these four
peoples, without fully inquiring whether perhaps all four qualities
are not produced by the respective environment — geographical,
intellectual, moral, and economic. We read of a Shakespeare
and a Goethe, and we endeavour by their means to explain
their environment, without asking ourselves how far the con-
trary may hold true, and they be best explained by their
surroundings. We are dissatisfied with those around us, and
we decide that supermen are needed, when what is required
is perhaps a super-civilisation. We see men struggling success-
fully against their environment, and we insist that man is wholly
free to do as he listeth ; or we perceive men gravely deterior-
ated by their environment, and we bring in a plea of "not
guilty", and relieve the individual of every effort, when the
responsibility should be perhaps divided between individual and
environment. We observe Negroes in Africa dancing round fe-
tishes, and we forthwith consider them as more beasts than men,
when with Western nurture these Negroes might have graduated
in a European university, and some of them even have oc-
cupied university chairs. We notice women confined to their
homes and interested in balls and dresses chiefly, and we un-
hesitatingly decide that woman's place is the home, when, per-
haps, under reversed circumstances, men and women might ex-
change places. We encounter two men who differ widely in
intellectual leanings, and we declare that the difference lies
primordially in their innate intellectual aptitudes, when education,
opportunity, comfort, and many other causes, may enter as more
or less decisive factors. The enormous powers of home and
school education, of social traditions and institutions, of position
in the social scale, are frequently not even suspected, let alone
seriously weighed, whereas no enquiry relating to man should
consider them otherwise than as momentous. The environment
as a primary factor is thus habitually overlooked.

1 See G. Spiller, "The Problem of the Emotions", in American Journal of
Psychology, vol. XV.

278 PART V.— WORKING STAGE.

So, also, definite factors in the environment, rather than in-
herent virtues, explain much that is of moment economically:
"The dominant industrial position of England is due, in a large
measure, to her possession of an abundance of [iron and coal]."
(Banerjea, Indian Economics, p. 13.) Likewise, "natural water-
supply is the chief factor determining the density of population
and the state of civilisation in any particular part of India"
(ibid., p. 22), whilst "the Himalayas act as a climatic barrier
in shutting out the cold winds of Central Asia and keeping
within the borders of India the vapour-bearing winds of the
south-west monsoon" (ibid., p. 16). Furthermore, the far-
reaching social effects of the gulf-stream on England, and of the
great ocean currents generally, may be noted.
° The apparent incapacity of the African Negro to civilise
himself may be said to be due equally to traceable environ-
mental causes. This will be readily seen when we examine
the Western method of introducing civilisation into Africa. It
is not that the European settles on Afric's shores, and by sheer
superior brain force evolves a high civilisation. It is rather
that European colonising Governments spend in Africa millions
of pounds on railways, roads, rivers, and ports ; that they apply
modern hygiene, sanitation, and knowledge of germ pests ; that
they experimentally and otherwise study the crops best suited
for the climate and soils, and by modern surveying methods
ascertain the existing mineral treasures ; that, in short, Western
Governments develop African countries with the aid of great
wealth, of science, and of tried administrative and commercial
experience. This renders it manifest that the African, even
in the most favourable circumstances, would require many
generations to do what a European State, by its accumulated
store of money, science, and power, could accomplish within a
comparatively few years. We have not, therefore, before us
a clear case of racial inferiority and superiority, but a matter
of great environmental resources, on the one hand, and trifling
environmental resources, on the other.

In order to eschew ignoring the temporal, spatial, and idea-
tional environment, the following rule may be applied with
advantage: "In any investigation assume only, initially, the
bare, naked fact (e.g., that there are at this moment universities
in Italy, but none in Mashonaland, or that one man is long-
headed and another round-headed). As to what was or what
will be, as to causes and environmental conditions, carefully
examine; assume and deduce nothing as a matter of course,
and beware of disregarding or undervaluing the environment,
present and past, physical,' biological, and cultural." Two sub-
rules are needed: (1) to prepare increasingly complete lists of
the general and special conditions for the subject matter of all
the sciences and arts. Among physicists this is well understood.
The possible or actual presence of gravity, cohesion, repulsion,

SECTION 22.— OBSERVATION. 279

strain, stress, motion, momentum, friction, vibration, light,
magnetism, electricity, heat, chemical affinity, diverse kinds of
rays, potential and kinetic energy, surrounding objects, moisture,
floating particles and diffused gases, the atmosphere and its
constituents, movement and pressure, impurities, and the need
for isolation, are circumstances almost never left out of account
in physical investigations. In cultural enquiries the standard
should not be less exacting. Latitude, longitude, general climatic
conditions, elevation and configuration of locality, soil, sub-soil,
mineral wealth, proximity to other localities and countries small
•and large, and to plain, mountain, forest, sea, lakes, ponds,
streams, or navigable or other rivers, underground water, do-
mesticated and wild animals, cultivated and uncultivated plants,
temperature, light, purity and moisture of the atmosphere,
food, drinking water, fuels, sanitation and hygiene, habitations,
garments, free disease germs and diseases-carrying insects and
animals, size of community, language, race, and national affi-
nities, sex, age, family life, customs, morals, religions, economic
status, social position and differentiation, social and associational
life, friendship, means of communication, economic conditions,
resources, and development, occupations and recreations, state
of land exploitation and land laws, fisheries and navigation,
government and political liberties and parties, laws, militarism
and navalism, local administration, history, home, school, vo-
cational, and self-education, sciences and- arts, museums and
galleries, national, vocational, family, and personal ideals, love
of progress, etc., etc., should all be always respected in any
serious social study.1 Furthermore, (2) where artificial experi-
ment cannot be applied, Nature's experiment should be heeded,
as revealed in history, in different countries, in apparent excep-
tions, and in the effects of intermixture and intercommunication.
§ 140. (D) Influence of Time and of Position in Space and
Mind. — It is also of consequence to allow for a fourth aspect,
alluded to already in the immediately preceding Sub-Conclusion.
Seeing the general uniformity obtaining in nature, we confound
the moment with eternity, the here with the there, and omit
to notice, for instance, that

"In the Spring a fuller crimson comes upon the robin's breast;
In the Spring the wanton lapwing gets himself another crest";

whilst as for the wagtail, "he is black and white all over in
summer, with white cheeks and forehead, and black chin and

1 The American paper, System, published the following comprehensive
list of qualities to be taken note of in industry and commerce: "business
knowledge, technical knowledge, tact, reliability, perception, resource, manners,
foresight, energy, memory, pertinacity, accuracy, method, self-reliance, ini-
tiative, self-assertion, discipline, persuasiveness, education, temperance, punctu-
ality, morality". (Quoted from E. Waxweiler, Esquisse d'une sociologie, 1906,
p. 204.) Full lists would be invaluable in every subject— e. g., the demands
of labour, the claims of capital. Endless disputations, due to lack of com-
prehensiveness, might be thus averted.

280 PART V -WORKING STAGE.

throat; but in winter he changes and becomes grey instead of
black on the back and his chin and throat become white"; and
"the magpie, so wary in England, is tame in Norway, as is
the hooded crow in Egypt" (Darwin). Equally, who that had
seen but one dog would suspect the existing variety of dogs,
or who that had seen the plants of the valleys would suspect
the transformation some of them undergo when transferred to
the Alpine heights above. Similarly, an ancient Teuton would
not have been justified in reasoning that all men are fair, any
more than his brother in the tropics who judges that all men
are dark brown. Thus, again, whereas a census of school
children would furnish a given percentage of fair-hairedness,
that of adults would exhibit a conspicuous decrease in the
percentage, and whilst one part of a country may be wholly
literate or densely populated, another may be almost illiterate
or sparsely inhabited. Who, once more, living in the far south
would conjecture the existence of the far north, and who,
living in either extreme of climate, would surmise that there
are many places on earth where decided heat and decided cold
alternate during the year?1 Who, again, living in a mono-
gamous civilisation is not surprised to hear of the prevalence
in other civilisations of polygamy and polyandry and vice versa ?
The towering Patagonian in his retreat imagines that some of
his fellows of no more than six feet in height are diminutive,
whilst the pigmy of the gloomy African forest would be amazed
to face a man who reaches five feet. It is equally a never-
ending comment of new-fledged travellers that there should be

1 "Over the British Islands the average rainfall is about 25 inches per
annum; but the amount varies greatly from year to year, and also from
place to place. It is greatest in the West and North-West of the country.
At Seathwaite in Cumberland, reputed the wettest spot in the British Isles
at which regular observations have been made over many years, the average
amount is 139 inches per annum. In tropical countries, where the air can
contain much larger amounts of water vapour by reason of its higher tem-
perature, much higher figures are recorded. Cherra Poonjee in Assam has an
average rainfall of 439 inches per annum, the highest known rainfall for
any station at which observations have been made for many years.

"A day on which the rainfall exceeds one inch is regarded as one of
heavy rain in all parts of the British Isles, though a glance through a set
of rainfall tables for almost any year shows that this phenomenon may be
expected to occur at least once in the course of each year at most British
stations. The heaviest fall of rain ever recorded in one day in the British
Isles again falls to the lot of Seathwaite, where, according to an interesting
table of phenomenally heavy rainfalls given in British Rainfall for 1910,
8.03 inches of rain were measured in November 12, 1897. Even in our com-
paratively dry Eastern counties very heavy falls may occur. The same
table records seven instances of falls exceeding 4 inches in 24 hours in the
county of Essex.

"In tropical countries these amounts may, again, be vastly exceeded.

r example, a typhoon which swept over the Philippine Islands between
July 14 and 17, 1911, deposited at one station on four consecutive days 35,
S'A T^*? inches respectively, or a total of 89 inches in four days."
(K. tr. K. Lempfert, op. cit., pp. 23-24.)

SECTION 22— OBSERVATION. 281

in any country customs other than their own. One remembers
in this connection Mark Twain's genial Negro who could not
comprehend why the French people did not speak English.
The molecular movements of objects at rest or in the growth
of animate beings remain for this reason commonly unnoticed,
just as at first the isomeric aspects of compounds escape atten-
tion; we ignore the fact that a "given mass weighs slightly
less, and falls to the ground a little less rapidly, in the tropics
than elsewhere" (F. Soddy, op. cit., p. 25), or that the require-
ments of children often seriously differ from those of adults,
or that a remedy efficacious at one stage, or in one affection,
may be useless or even detrimental at an earlier or later stage,
or in another affection; and the influence of vast periods, as
in the formation of mountains, rivers, or land, or in the evolu-
tion of living forms or even of chemical elements, or in the
development of human institutions and human culture, demand
measurement, whilst in theoretical and practical problems, the
near and distant future equally require to be taken into account.
"At the time of Alexander's invasion a good part of the now
arid desert consisted of populous towns and prosperous villages.
So also, the jungle now known as the Sunderbun, and inhabited
by tigers and other wild beasts, was, a few centuries ago, the
seat of a flourishing kingdom." (Banerjea, op. cit., p. 8.) And
time sees important changes induced by man's interposition.
"The worst land can be converted into the most fertile by the
application of proper manures and the adoption of a well-
regulated method of agriculture. . . . Afforestation may lead to
an increase in rainfall where it is at present scanty, and irriga-
tion may be so practised as to carry water to any place where
it is wanted." (Ibid., p. 26.) What more wonderful substance
is there in nature than water? Now it is a transparent liquid
evaporating in almost any degree of temperature, saturating
the atmosphere, forming steam and clouds, descending from
the sky as rain, snow, sleet, and hail, appearing as sparkling
dew and lacy frost, turning into solid ice, splitting the rocks
because of its unique quality of expanding just anterior to
solidifying, and entering largely into the composition of living
forms. Sufficient has been adduced to show the need of always
calculating on the possibility that objects and their environment
do not possess that uniformity which they momentarily and in
certain localities appear to present.

"There rolls the deep where grew the tree.

0 earth, what changes hast thou seen!

There where the long street roars, hath been
The stillness of the central sea.

The hills are shadows, and they flow

From form to form, and nothing stands;

They melt like mist, the solid lands,
Like clouds they shape themselves and go."

(Tennyson, In Memoriam, cxxiii.)

282

PART V.— WORKING STAGE.

In dealing, then, with the nature and relations of pheno-
mena, we should suspect complexity where there appears to be
simplicity, simplicity where there appears complexity, environ-
mental influences where other influences are alleged, and we
should be prepared to find that influences of time and of
position in space and mind produce, as the case may be, an
appreciable or a substantial difference.

CONCLUSION 18.

Need of Keeping and Consulting Records, of Improving the

Memory Experimentally, of Employing the Imagination, and of

utilising the Intelligence in its entirety.

§ 141. (A) KEEPING AND CONSULTING RECORDS. — As
is evident from the very definition of a given impression as
entailing special memory, general memory, and reasoning or
inference from past to present experience,1 it follows that in
the scientific process of investigation the place of the memory
cannot be left unconsidered. Furthermore, memories not only
fade rapidly, but become confused. Lastly, not only does
memory enter into the process of observation; but more
especially does it weave itself into the whole generalising and
reasoning process. We cannot recall all we have observed;
and even if we have kept adequate notes, these are not as
exhaustive as the original observations.

Since, then, the memory needs to be employed, we should
prepare rules for its guidance: (a) we should consult records
entered carefully at the time of observing, containing all we
observed and nought beyond, and succinctly, systematically,
and lucidly composed ; (b) only such memories are to be utilised
as are distinctly recollected to have been scientifically gathered ;
<c) these records and recollections, especially if much is to
depend on them, should be verified with meticulous care; and
(d), according to circumstances, these records should assume
the form of specimens, rough sketches, minute drawings,
coloured drawings, photographs, tables, statistics, graphs, and
the like.

§ 142. (B) IMPROVING THE MEMORY.— Moreover, stre-
nuous efforts should be made to improve the memory as such.
(a) By observing accurately with the object of accurately recollect-
ing, and then experimentally training the memory in this direc-
tion, we may hope to find our memories far more reliable than
at present, (b) Similarly, by pursuing an analogous method in
relation to completeness of memories, parallel results are likely
to ensue, (c) Kindred methods should be employed to create
an extensive store of memories, without which the task of

1 See § 19.

SECTION 22.—OBSER VA TION. 283

investigation and elaboration proves slow and difficult. Then
(d) there is the problem of training the memory in order that
it should readily respond to the demands made on it. And
lastly, (e) a methodological memory is of vital import for rapid
methodological thinking. This last point needs to be developed.
Many -more or less coherent classifications exist in our day,
and through experimental training it might be possible that,
given certain terms, most relevant related terms should, in a
methodical manner, almost instantaneously appear in conscious-
ness. In this way, especially if the process be systematised,
and if it be extended to relevant facts, ideas, conclusions, etc.,
the value of thought may be considerably improved. Even
this, however, should not satisfy the methodologist, for we
ought to aim at (/) so developing the memory by means of
experiment that everything involved in a thought shall be
readily evolved by the memory. That this takes place to some
extent normally will not be disputed; but if it occurs at all,
the conscious perfecting of the process should not meet with
insurmountable obstacles. Having successfully trained the
memory in this direction, methodological thinking would be,
comparatively speaking, lightning-like.

In our time, because of the subjective seclusion of thought,
the memory is relatively unsocial and therefore chaotic; but,
once controlled by collectively devised methods, it ought to
operate as smoothly and satisfactorily as high-grade machinery.
It will be understood, of course, that we assume a memory
well-stocked with sifted and organised facts and ideas, and
assisted by a series of methodological Conclusions of the type
proposed in this volume.

§ 143. (C) SCIENTIFIC USE OF THE IMAGINATION.1— The
memory has a further important function to fulfil in the course
of scientific investigation; "for not only do we require to recall
the bare facts specifically examined, but it is desirable to re-
collect related facts which might have a bearing on the subject
in question and help towards its elucidation. A well-stored and
responsive memory is thus of capital importance. In seeking
to explain, for instance, the alarming growth of a disease, such
as~ appendicitis or cancer, experts have not stumbled on any
explanation as the effect of studying actual cases. They, ac-
cordingly, seek for environmental influences. Is the disease
especially prevalent among the poor or rich, among the
educated or uneducated, among heavy or light eaters, among
those who consume much or little of particular food-stuffs or
beverages, among those who overwork or underwork, among
civilised or primitive peoples, and so on? Hasty solutions are

1 "Nourished by knowledge patiently won; bounded and conditioned by
co-operant Reason, Imagination becomes the mightiest instrument of the
physical discoverer." (John Tyndall, Scientific Use of the Imagination, and
Other Essays, 1872, p. 6.)

284

PART V.— WORKING STAGE.

easily offered; but the difficulty is to fix unmistakably on the
source of the evil, which only the widest and most searching
examination may be able to disclose. Cholera, plague, con-
sumption, insanity, and certain deficiency diseases, have been
in this manner more or less successfully traced to their causes,
and this has invariably entailed much circumspect drawing on
a copious memory, though, of course, not without detailed
attention to the circumstantial facts of the disease. In the
physical sciences the use of the imagination is for this reason
increasingly required, since gravitation, heat, light, electricity,
magnetism, radiation, chemistry, and now astronomy, begin to
melt into one another and to interpret each other, and since
so much is invisible owing to diminutiveness or bulkiness and
demands recourse to analogy for the purpose of determining
the nature and causes of objects and processes. Thus, to
venture on one illustration from geology, where the factors are
frequently difficult to trace and where the instructed imagination
proves to be a valuable auxiliary. "It is believed that the
accumulation of a sheet of ice, several thousand feet in thickness,
will depress that part of the earth's crust on which it rests.
On the other hand, the part of the crust which lies immediatly
to the south of the ice-sheet will well upwards, it is believed,
in the form of a wave, giving rise to such an elevation as is
occurring in Scandinavia now. Still further south, beyond the
wave of elevation, there is a secondary trough or depression."
(A. Keith, The Antiquity of Man, 1920, p. 45.) Also, once we
ascertain that man is primarily a specio-psychic being, the ex-
planation of innumerable human facts will be sought in the
multitudinous cultural forces in operation, and this can only be
accomplished by passing mentally in review apposite data and
reconstructing situations in the imagination.

For instance, here and there sundry writers have lightly
touched on the cultural nature of man; but through failing to
develop the conception, they have left the subject in a rudiment-
ary condition impotent to affect current theories. On this ac-
count it was relatively easy for Darwin, and those who followed
him, to overlook the real inwardness of the cultural factor.
If man possessed this, that, and the other quality, why, it was
reasoned, characters resembling these could be detected scattered
throughout the animal kingdom, 'and if culturists spoke of
human progress, it was not difficult to confuse cultural with
biological progress, and even to deny progress by citing ex-
ceptional or petty instances suggestive of the absence of
progress. A proper use of the imagination would have quickly
shown that, first, a relevant comparison could only be instituted
between man and some one particular animal species, not
between man and all animal species. Furthermore, by patiently
analysing the wealth of human culture— as regards means of
communicating feelings and thoughts to one's fellow creatures,

SECTION 22.—OBSER VA TION. 285

roads and modes of transportation^ buildings and furniture,
callings and variety of implements and products, domestication
of animals and cultivation of plants, discovery and utilisation
of raw materials and natural forces, dress and education, nutri-
tion and care of health, trade and internationalism, morals and
religion, art and science, law and government, marriage and
other voluntary and territorial associations — it would have
clearly revealed itself that every animal species is outdistanced
by man to an almost infinite degree.

Moreover, by breaking up the notion of richness, it would
have transpired that culture is distributed with extreme in-
equality among persons, peoples, and periods; that it has been
produced by a process of progressive accumulation and im-
provement from the earliest times to to-day; and that virtually
all mankind has co-operated to compass this. Human life is thus
perceived to differ from all animal life by being almost infinitely
richer, and almost infinitely more varied, progressive, unified,
and perfectible. Incidentally we learn, then, that cultural varia-
tions are primarily due to cultural causes; that a survey of human
history as a whole bears witness to illimitable progress, which
again we cannot conceive as ever ceasing; and that mankind
tends more and more to become a unity and its component
parts more and more perfect. Turning now back to the animal
world, we discover that no animal species, unless enormous
epochs are considered, possesses any richness of culture; any
notable variations in regard to individuals, groups, and periods ;
any discernible progress through the ages; or any approach
to the co-operation of the entire species in time and space, as
is to be witnessed in mankind. Nor is the thought exhausted
by the preceding analysis, for it is borne in on us that it is
misleading to speak of man as one social being among others,
when in man alone not the group at a particular period of
time, but virtually the species, or the totality of mankind past
and present, co-operates and interacts. This, again, suggests
that it is not the group which forms the human unit, but the
individual who absorbs more or less the culture of the race
and thereby becomes its representative. We finally reach by
this route the conception of the individual as the culture-requir-
ing, the social group as the culture-mediating, and mankind
as the culture-supplying, unit, a conception of superlative signi-
ficance for social theory and social practice, if true. There
probably exist no limits to the benefits accruing from a scientific
use of the imagination.

Besides being able to utilise reliable data accurately remem-
bered, we should strive to exhaust mentally and factually the
general and special conditions under which a fact presents
itself, always avoiding unnecessary subtlety and alertly watch-
ing for the most promising explanations. There should be, for
instance, no placid acquiescence in unanalysed catchwords. On

280 PART V.-WORKING STAGE.

the one hand, men, e.g., extol to the heavens "democracy",
and, on the other, they judge "democracy" to be the grave of
greatness; and yet thera is almost never any very clear thought
underlying either line of argument. Is there virtue in numbers
irrespective of good qualities, or is there merit in an aristocracy
regardless of any reprehensible characteristics it may possess?
Should everybody, as in ancient Greece, be somebody, or should
the masses simply hand over the government and themselves
to experts? Should elections of various orders be multiplied
and rendered more frequent, or should the citizens, perhaps
once in a decade, elect perhaps one person for every million
inhabitants to a Parliament and do nothing further? Should
there be a small governing class in the world of politics and
business, or should all interests (workers, employers, consumers)
govern collectively through a comprehensive system of devolu-
tion?1 Thus with the term "nature", where the expressions
"human nature", "nature" (that which lies outside human
nature), "a natural life" (in contradistinction to a conventional
life), "natural scenery", "natural law", "nature" (in its most
comprehensive sense), are repeatedly and disastrously con-
founded. Thus, too, with the noted phrase, "the elimination
of the unfit", wherein the word "unfit" is rarely defined by
Eugenists, sometimes signifying "physically unfit", sometimes
"not successful in coining wealth or pushing to the front", and
sometimes "not of service to mankind", its intrinsic meaning
being "elimination of those unfitted for a particular environ-
ment", whatever be the position of this environment in the
scale of human values.

Or examine the notion of "living in comfort", as conceived
by some socialists. Here it is tacitly assumed that an immutable
standard of comfort exists, and that with the advent of the
socialisation of the means of production and distribution com-
fort will be universal when, as a matter of fact, the man with
an income of £ 300 per annum agonises over his poverty, and
he who disposes of £ 3,000 annually deems himself a wretch
compared to his fellow who can expend ^30,000 a year. Mani-
festly, comfort for the masses is either unattainable, or else a
scientific and ethical view of comfort, equivalent to the scien-
tifically determined simple life, should be advanced. (See also
Conclusions 15 and 20.) A more judicious use of the imagination
would likewise compel a reinterpretation of the onesided theory
that men are mainly economically-motivated beings, or that radi-
cal changes in economic conceptions and processes can lead to
no difference in the amount of wealth produced in any com-

1 In considering the problem of democratic government and similar issues,
we ought, in the first place, to think of what would happen if the democracy
were highly educated. This would cut any number of Gordian knots, and
probably reconcile most of those who genuinely care for the welfare of
their country.

SECTION 22.— OBSERVATION. 287

munity, because wealth and labour, as is frequently alleged, are
interchangeable terms.

Finally, weigh the pregnancy of an expression such as "the
family is the nation's unit". As a slogan it signifies substan-
tially nothing ; but allowing the imagination to pursue the con-
sequences, we arrive at a comprehensive theory of the State
and of economics. The object of wealth, according Jp this view,
is primarily to secure the welfare of families, meaning by family
mainly the two parents and the children, with their home.
Wealth as such has, then, no value, and the wealth produced
does not appertain to the individual producer, nor can it be
legitimately disbursed save for promoting family welfare. The
State similarly is not concerned with glory, power, honour, or
wealth as such ; but its policy should be shaped first and fore-
most by the requirements of the families constituting the nation.
The home, then, is the true centre of national concern, and
the production of wealth and the regulations of the State
must subserve it. Domestic and child hygiene, home educa-
tion, home work simplification, family concord and concord
in the family of nations, become consequently all-important.
The young should be trained for the life of marriage, and the
husband should know much of the home as the wife should
know much of the world, both being educated to appreciate
the value of co-operation and the need for mutual respect.
A male-directed world proves therefore an abortion, due to the
men having come to confound the means (wealth) for the end
(family welfare). Rightly considered, legislators and wealth
producers should have for their principal object the creation and
maintenance of well-provided and morally and aBsthetically
beautiful homes. The woman's work in the home assumes
thereby a transfigured value, and she is also required to join
the councils of the State, since she is best informed regarding
that which most concerns the State. Erratic anti-family theories
are hence discountenanced; old maids and old bachelors virtu-
ally cease to be as a voluntary class, whilst everything is done
to maintain the numerical equality of the sexes; the man's
ideal companion is his wife, and vice versa; home education
and home management become matters of science; wealth
production is directed to serve primarily this new conception
of society; Utopias are converted into eutopias; etc., etc.

Again, a more virile use of the imagination would cast doubt
on some aspects of the theory of "genius" or inherited psychi-
cal capacity. That one man should be born with a perceptibly
stronger or more delicate physical constitution than another,
is easily understood; but how are we to picture to ourselves
a "born" baker, cook, accountant, merchant, manufacturer,
airman, lawyer, pianist, painter, musician, poet, saint, and the
thousands of other "somebodies" who are said to be "born, not
made", especially since, through the changes and developments

288 PART V.— WORKING STAGE.

of culture, the implications of these terms deviate definitely
from generation to generation! And this impossible view is
further complicated by the theory that genius, like murder, will
out, portraying a perfect social Babel where we find historically
almost uninterrupted change and progress along a certain line.
We have accordingly, to select an illustration, to imagine some
genius born who "invents" unison music, another part music,
another melody accompanied by a theme, another a musical
theme without melody, and others more and more intricate
themes, and practically never a genius appearing out of order.
When we, therefore, consider the slow and orderly transforma-
tions historically undergone by the human arts, crafts, and dis-
ciplines, and the instruments they employ, it seems inexpres-
sibly inept to propound the thesis that any one is born to
accomplish a certain cultural task. The attempt reminds one
of nothing so much as of square circles and round triangles.
Here, however, the scientific imagination ends, and the demand
arises for an ascertainment of the precise facts and factors
involved.

Similarly with scores of catchwords in those spheres of cogni-
tion where the method of cool and full analysis is in sharp
conflict with the courses of action proposed by passion and
prejudice : everywhere these catchwords would be either rejected
or would acquire fuller significance. Want of thought, more
than scantiness of facts, is therefore not infrequently the cause
of erroneous arguments and conclusions.

Active memory or imagination has thus its place in science ;
but it is rigorously limited in scope. If the particular fact under
consideration at any time has not been thoroughly examined,
or if the general facts are not familiar, imagination will be a
busy mischief-maker. Scientific imagination is therefore con-
cerned with what is securely established, and only aims at
mentally reviewing the possibilities of extending a truth where
it is not a question of generalising intimately known and already
classified facts. The almost preternaturally slow advance of
the knowledge of rays and of electric phenomena during the
last fifty years, in spite of hosts of well-prepared intellects
examining the phenomena, illustrates our contention that as a
rule the scientific imagination does not roam, but tramps round
and round a small and well-defined area. Only when prodigious
masses of facts and generalisations have been collected, collated,
and fused, is there room for a Newton, a Laplace, or a Darwin,
to propose sweeping truths, or for a Sophocles or Corneille
to write divinely. Here also the imagination is constrained
to travel in certain prescribed narrow paths, decided by the
countless established details and generalisations. The working
hypotheses in the sciences form no exception to this statement,
for they endeavour to interpret new facts by old facts, not
new facts by novel or ancient fancies.

SECTION 22.—OBSERVA T10N. 289

Scientific canons, therefore, demand that vigorous and rigorous
objective examination of the facts and conditions should be
accompanied by vigorous and rigorous subjective analysis and
reconstruction of facts and conditions so far as known. The
imagination is observable in action to the best advantage in
the contriving of experiments, the drawing of deductions, and
in the formulation of definitions.

§ 144. (D) CONTINUOUS METHODOLOGICAL CONTROL
OF THE THOUGHT PROCESS.— The emergence of a felt need
gives automatically rise to the problem of how it may be gratified.
If that problem be ideally simple, as when we desire to touch
some common object within convenient reach of the hands,
the task of the intelligence is minimal ; but when, for instance,
we wish to comprehend the inmost nature of reality, satisfaction
can only be secured, if at all, by the combined efforts of
the thinkers of myriads of ages. Customarily, however, the
problems posed by needs are such that a brief period of
reasoning suffices to reach the conclusion or end aimed at.
Thus when we desire to know how long it will occupy us to
complete some piece of work, or what shall be our next task,
or what we shall write to a colleague, or where we shall spend
the vacations, or how we shall furnish our laboratory, or what
shall be the contents of a memoir we contemplate presenting
to a learned body, we reason and labour for a shorter or longer
space of time, until a provisional or final decision is arrived
at and the need is at least partially satisfied. In the process
of reasoning the stimulating need is teleologically connected
with a seemingly appropriate detail recollected, that with another,
and so on with scores of memories, the controlling stimulus
remaining as a constant, till the need is satisfied so far as
circumstances permit. Reasoning being hence dependent on a
succession of relevant memories, it is readily appreciated that,
in the absence of deliberate and correct methodological training,
countless causes may contribute to prolong and sophisticate a
train of reasoning. On this account, the conclusion may be
instantaneously reached; it may not be reached at all; or a
partially or wholly false conclusion may be the fruit of our
cogitations.1

In a certain sense we are supposed to deal in this Sub-Section
with the methodological process in its naked concreteness, as it
proceeds from moment to moment in the act of ratiocination. As
we have seen, the very fact that man's thought is as yet almost
wholly unorganised, renders it abundantly clear that what takes
place in the mind must vary alarmingly from individual to indivi-
dual, that most of the ideas occurring are chance products, and

1 See Mind of Man, ch. 4, for an analysis of the reasoning process. From
this statement it will be seen that the laws of association by contiguity and
by similarity are only secondary laws and do not account for the flow of
thought.

19

290

PART V.-WORKING STAGE.

that in downright honest meditations of an original character the
process of mental synthesis is exceedingly circuitous and tortuous.
Indeed, steady continuity of strenuous and correct thought
becomes, in the circumstances, impossible, and the keenest efforts
are often unaccompanied by dependable results. It is probably
for this reason that in research work much is frequently made of
little, that the initial stage is mistaken for the final one, and that
thinkers and artists rapidly sink into mental grooves and abide
therein for the rest of their lives. Anything to escape the
primordial mental chaos.

Instead, therefore, of undertaking the unprofitable task of
sketching in detail a moving mental anarchy occasionally re-
lieved by the results of the application of a few precipitated cul-
tural rules, we must demand the rationalisation and socialisation
of thought on methodological models. Assuming this to be
accomplished, say to the extent delineated in this work, this
Sub-Section would draw the picture of the concrete process of
thought when any particular problem — let it be the ethics of
journalism or the theory of art for art's sake — is submitted for
consideration. Unfortunately, the present author, who is forever
learning and almost forever unlearning, cannot flatter himself
that he is in a position to provide such an account. Whilst
he hopes, for his own and for his readers' sake, that he has
profited by his methodological enquiries, there is none of the
consecutiveness and solidity in his concrete cogitations that one
would have a right to look for, say, in the third generation of
trained methodologists. All that he can therefore do is to pro-
pose that this enquiry be adjourned to the day when some one
will undertake it who, under propitious conditions, has been,
from infancy, thoroughly trained to reflect methodologically.
Since thought consists, on the psychological side, of the cross-
classification of memories, and since such cross-classification
may be enormously simplified and systematised, it certainly
appears as if the ideational thinking process of the future will
be as superior to that of our day as our most highly developed
machines exceed in efficacy the rude implements of primitive
man.

§ 145. We will venture nevertheless on an illustration to
elucidate the position. Some twelve years prior to this paragraph
being penned, the present writer was responsible for a series
of magazine articles on the moral education of children. He
concluded the series by submitting how unreasonable it was to
assume that systematic experimental practice should be required
in all other subjects of the school curriculum where action was
involved, and yet to deplore man's moral juvenility although
neglecting systematic experimental moral practice. It being
conceded that this criticism was partly suggested by the author's
methodological activities, it may be admitted that, roughly
speaking, the elaboration of the criticism entailed no difficulties

SECTION 22.— OBSERVATION. 291

and that the article was written almost without halt in the author's
thought. To this extent the methodological ideal is satisfied.

However, when his methodology inclined the author to the
belief that a positive scheme should be developed, his mind
became nearly a blank so far as this subject was concerned.
Various items occurred to him, but, from his methodological
standpoint, nothing worthy of being advocated as a system.
For some ten years he recurred repeatedly to his favourite
theme of conceiving an adequate plan, but in vain. During
the last two years, however, he felt that just as his young
children learnt to play on the piano, so should they become
proficient in matters of right conduct; but still no luminous
inspiration came to indicate how this was to be accomplished.
One day, at last, whilst one of his children was playing the
piano, a feasible solution dawned on him. It was to the effect
that, accepting as a basis the golden rule enunciated in § 97,
one might begin with posture training — sitting, standing, walking,
etc., proceed to handshaking and simple salutation, then to
simple conversation, and so forth. The general methods em-
ployed would be those in common use for all arts.

This outline scheme was, again, prepared within an hour or
two in consequence of the application of methodological rules.
Here was a definite and hopeful beginning. Incidentally, he
pondered over the problem during the succeeding few weeks,
and though generally satisfied with his discovery, it did seem
to him that the art of conduct should be inculcated from earliest
infancy, a conclusion having no doubt a methodological origin.
Then it struck him that he had recently (The Training of the
Child: A Parents' Manual, 1912; revised edition, 1919) advocated
deliberate instruction and experiment in home education, and
that this would solve his difficulty. Light, therefore, came, first,
after a rule of life had been independently arrived at, simplifying
and systematising the teaching to be given, and, secondly, when
recollecting another recently systematised conclusion. So far as
the problem is concerned of developing the system for common
use, we need say nothing on this score here.

Assume now that the author had rigidly applied his fully
developed methodological system. On its occurring to him to
utilise the experimental method in the moral training of children,
he would have, following precedent, at once decided on examining
the nature of the experimental method in child training generally.
This decision would have been followed practically immediately
by the resolve to inspect the time table of a fully modern school
(Conclusion 20). Trusting to recollection, until such time as
verification was convenient, physical training, games, hand-
work, drawing and painting, piano playing, and other subjects
would have suggested themselves.

How was he to conceive the beginning of his experiments?
Clearly, on the methodological basis of commencing with the

19*

292 PART V.— WORKING STAGE.

simplest matters, and proceeding, with growing age, to the most
complex. And what were the simplest ? Of course, those gene-
rally required of the very young. And what form were the
experiments to assume? Those actually assumed with the young-
first as games, then as interesting matter, and subsequently as
love of the subject.

Beyond this, systematic procedure on the part of the ex-
perimenter, including regular times for regular periods, and
systematic teaching as in schools, could be assumed forthwith
as a matter of course.

Postulating much intimate experience with children and con-
siderable reading in pedagogy, with methodological rules to aid,
little difficulty would be experienced in drawing up a curri-
culum. Still, it would have been out of the question to have
formulated a working scheme at once. He would have appealed to
his memory for the simplest and most interesting actions to be ac-
quired by children, following the day-to-day rule (Conclusion 19)
in the effort to recollect, and these would have been only inter-
mittently obtained. Discontinuity of the concrete thought process
would have thus set in at this point, and he would have periodi-
cally returned to his task, alertly watching in the intervals for
suggestive experiences and ideas, besides deliberately studying
children, according to the day-to-day rule, and consulting books.

As he reflected over his task, it would have dawned on him—
in fact, this is a methodological demand (Conclusion 20) — that
he would be much helped by a simple and comprehensive rule
of life. He would directly endeavour to recollect, methodologi-
cally, known rules of life, and presumably not find them satis-
factory for his purpose. He would, for methodological reasons,
desiderate a rule which would embody in a simple form the
principal demands of the moral ideal. Again, we shall assume
here that the subject was far from being a novelty to him. He
would, accordingly, seek to remember such features. He had
been charmed and impressed by the geniality of kindergartners,
and had discovered the same virtue very widely in modern educa-
tional and institutional life. The kindergartners, too, triumphed
by being intelligent, instead of being obsessed by routine solutions
of difficulties or by authoritarianism. Automatically resorting to
generalisation, he would extend intelligence to feeling and will,
and thence to the utilisation of the whole of the mind. Here
was a great step forward. However, methodologically, this
would have led directly to the examination in a standard work
on psychology of the lists of the constituents of the human mind.
Acceptance and rejection of terms would have alternated, in
accordance with the needs of the case and of the experience
possessed. Other works on psychology would have been con-
sulted with the same object in view, as well as books on ethics.
Everything having to be carefully weighed, decision would have
been repeatedly postponed. Satisfied at last with the elements

SECTION 22.—OBSER VA TION. 293

to be incorporated in the rule, the shaping of the sentence would
commence. The author had spent over a hundred hours on
determining on a convenient phrasing, whereas two hours,
perhaps, would have sufficed if methodological rules had been
throughout respected.

Many are the causes for the slow and erratic workings of
the concrete intelligence. Methodological canons are only
fitfully applied. Owing to a poor vocabulary and an anarchic
memory, we are obliged to hunt for the right word. Fa-
scinated by our ideas, we fail to employ terms in their normal
connotations. Only partially trained in expressing ourselves
correctly, it is with infinite pains we convey to others, or
even to ourselves, what we mean. Not proceeding systemati-
cally, we fumble and stumble, and waste long stretches of time.
Reaching the end of our scanty resources, our mind becomes
a blank for a moment, and unconsciously the trend of our
meditations has changed, and perhaps a considerable time elapses
before we return to our subject. Or we build castles in the
air instead of on the solid rock, ignoring or slurring over
difficulties. Thus, in the absence of thorough methodological
training, the mind is a medley of disjointed irrelevancies, and
the quantity and quality of our cogitations are of the poorest.
Indeed, it is probable that, so far as the concrete intelligence
is concerned, there will be in the methodologically trained future
a saving of perhaps ninety-five per cent, of time in enquiries.

If, then, observation is to be truly scientific, it is imperative
that the concrete process of intellection, as it passes from
moment to moment, shall be controlled and guided in all its
aspects and phases by methodological canons of an irreproach-
able character. This presupposes adequate theoretical and prac-
tical methodological training from an early age until the mind
grows into an ordered unity, responding automatically to the
varied needs of a situation.

CONCLUSION 19.
Need of Ensuring Easy, Exhaustive, and Impartial Observation.

§ 146. This Conclusion professes to provide the assistance
required to secure with ease abundant material for investigation,
and to defeat subjective influences.

(a) In dealing with matters psychological, anthropological,
historical, ethical, economical, meteorological, etc. — wherever
changes are relatively rapid or where objects of the same class
are likely to vary — a day-to-day rule is of conspicuous ad-
vantage. If, accordingly, we desired to learn something of the
ordinary life lived by some tribe or nation, we pursue for some
days the perambulations of a few average persons of that tribe
or nation, from the moment they rise in the morning to the
moment when they rise the succeeding day. We are thus in a

294

PART V.-WORKING STAGE.

position to record accurately their normal habits, whilst other-
wise we should be likely to furnish an account of a few graphic
or accidental details. Corrections for locality, climate, season,
age, sex, social stratum, special circumstances, would not, of
course, be neglected.

(b) The just-mentioned rule may be extended to a season-
to-season rule in those instances where the stages are seasonal,
as with plants or some instincts and diseases, and beyond this
to stages of life, as when certain physiological and pathological
phenomena are connected more or less with an individual's age.

(c) The same rule may be also adapted to periodic changes
and occurrences of any length, extensive or brief, as in astro-
nomy or molecular physics, and

(d) to exhausting the varieties of any species or other object
by continuously searching in space, time, and consciousness
for divergences.

(e) Another rule refers to vegetation.1 A plant may be
studied from rootlets upwards; from the zygote stage to the
time it decays; in the interrelation of its parts, and in its
relation to soils, allied and neighbouring plants, altitude,
moisture, atmosphere, light, bacteria, insects, larger animals, etc.

(/) A cousin of this rule comprehends animal life, though
here permanent standpoints are to be chosen for classes rather
than for the whole animal kingdom. Perhaps from head to
tail or to extremities of hind feet, from conception to dissolu-
tion, from cell to systems, of organs (alimentary system, cir-
culatory system, etc.) and to the system of systems (the or-
ganism) would satisfy methodologically in a general way in
respect of the higher animals and many of the lower. The
nature and the interrelations between the diverse organs would
be considered as well as relations to other members of the
species, to closely allied species, to enemies, to food supply,
to climate, and to the environment generally, animate and in-
animate, (a) and (b) would, of course,- apply to (e) and (/).

(g) A further group is concerned with objects which have a
commencement, and which are not comprised in the previous
groups. Thus a book is studied from beginning to end; so,
too, an organic or other process, a law case, an experiment,
a road, a concert, the history of an individual, of a reign, of
an era, or of a country.2

(h) includes those aggregations of facts which cannot be
distributed under any of the above headings. Here arbitrarily
fixed standpoints are selected, that is, observing a ball, I fix
upon some arbitrary point or continuous line as the place
whence to proceed and whither to return in my examination.

"If we are enquiring into the vegetation of plants, we must begin from
the very sowing of the seed." (Novum Organum, bk. 2, 41.)

2 For some instances illustrating this rule, see Bacon's Novum Organum,
bk. 2, 5.

SECTION 22— OBSERVATION. 295

The concerted choice of the meridian of Greenwich felici-
tously illustrates this rule.

(i) asks that the completest possible inductions or enumera-
tions should be aimed at. (Section XIII.)

(/') requires the universal application of the comparative,
geographical, historical, generic, and evolutfbnary methods.

(k) emphasises that each ascertained fact or series of facts
should be compared with other kindred facts regarding its
relative condition, position, or importance — place, distribution,
number, size, age, utility, value, preferability, etc., according
to the table of Primary Categories — in order to circumvent
marginal reasoning or unbalanced conclusions.1 In matters
social this would mean that "circumstances frequently alter
cases". Perhaps the majority of serious personal and collective
differences in interpreting an individual's or a group's conduct
in daily life, or generally, may be said to be due to disregard-
ing unsuspected modifying circumstances. Grievous injustice
is thus often committed. This is even truer in relation to
matters pertaining to historical, ethnographical, and religious
problems. In this connection we may appositely adduce the
illuminating story of Confucius who, to the dismay of his dis-
ciples, counselled one inquirer, whom he knew, that he should
"act on first thoughts", and another immediately following him,
whom Confucius was also acquainted with, to "act on second
thoughts".

(/) asks that we should ascertain (or, where in deduction or
application inspection is not possible, imagine or realise) the
nature of a simple or compound state or action (a substance,
a school), first in its total normal condition, and then with
regard to varying and exceptional circumstances. The confusion
in reform movements, as we have repeatedly stated, is thus
perceptibly due to envisaging only that part of the truth which
is temporarily and locally exciting interest.

(m) demands that we should become habituated, more espe-
cially in social problems, to (1) gathering ALL the facts, both
pro and con, and objectively assessing their approximate value ;
(2) recognising that momentary and local feelings and views

1 "He ventured to think that an educated person should be one who
knew what was evidence : when a thing was proved, and when it was not.
Another attribute of the educated is the ability to know how many different
interpretations could be borne by the same verbal proposition; what weight
was to be attached to different authorities. Then an educated person should
be able to say how far circumstances transformed propositions which were
excellent at certain times and places but irrelevant patchwork when applied
to all sorts of places. He had been led to believe that parallels -and ana-
logies from history were the most deceptive things in the world." (Report
of a portion of a speech by Lord Morley of Blackburn, delivered at the
opening of the John Morley Laboratory, of the University of Manchester,
Oct. 4, 1909.) "Male and female winged ants are strongly positively helio-
tropic, but as soon as they lose their wings their heliotropism ceases."
(J. Loeb, Forced Movements, p. 116.)

296

PART V.- WORKING STAGE.

may be perhaps only of momentary and local importance;
(3) taking into account the broad historical, and geographical
aspects of the subject; (4) allowing for further developments
in the near and more distant future; (5) connecting the prob-
lem, if possible, with wider, and also with more fundamental,
considerations; and (6) weighing the comparative importance
of the problem in order to determine the approximate place
due to it at present in the domain of theory and practice.

(ri) requires that we should compile a list of all the diffi-
culties involved in the solution of a problem, and also a list
of all reasonable solutions; and

(o) demands that we should incessantly and schematically
re-examine for the special purpose of discovering new and
independent facts, and pursue this course, until varied efforts,
repeated at sundry intervals, yield nothing of moment. (See
Conclusion 24.)

Methodical guidance of the above character is indispensable,
especially if subjective errors are to be weeded out and if the
enquiry is to be truly valid and exhaustive. In any particular
investigation auxiliary rules should be, of course, formulated.

CONCLUSION 20.
Need of Searching for the Simplest Practicable Case.

§ 147. We should avoid plunging in medias res. If I desire,
for instance, as a beginner, to learn the principle of the addi-
tion (subtraction, multiplication, etc.) of vulgar (or other) frac-
tions, I ought not to write down a casual and arbitrary sum:
¥ + T- 4- § + ff I ought to select, instead, for study the sim-
plest possible example, say: y + y'1 The more important and
complex the problem, the more imperative is it to start with
the simplest practicable case. In this manner a ready solution
will frequently be reached. Plato thus discussed a city instead
of an individual, as exemplifying the question of justice in a
simpler, because more conspicuous, form,'2 and for the same
reason lecturers on physiology select the web of frogs, the ears
of guinea pigs, or the combs of fowls, to demonstrate the circula-

1 The simplest practicable case should be made the foundation principle
in all teaching. Commencing with that case, the teacher would proceed to
the case slightly less simple, and so on. It is also a deduction from this
Conclusion that before passing from one stage to another, the scholar's
former task should be thoroughly assimilated. Also, in learning a language,
for instamce, the supreme difficulty of accurate vocalisation might be over-
come with relative ease by learning to enunciate, accent, and pronounce
correctly a single paragraph of three or four lines, carefully comparing the
enunciation, the accent, and the pronunciation with that of the language
known. This could be followed by practice with meaningless rhymed syl-
lables (e.g., ten, ben, len) and sets of syllables until proficiency is acquired.

2 Plato, The Republic, bk. 2.

SECTION 22.— OBSERVATION. 297

tion of the blood, whilst astronomers refer to the plane pre-
sented by the sea rather than to the uneven land when they
desire to show the globular character of the earth, or call to
witness the polar star to prove that the earth's axis does not
suffer any material change with time. Physical geographers
thus colour the map of the world to indicate now geological
formations, now altitudes or temperatures, now barometric pres-
sure or rainfall, now winds or ocean currents, and now the
earth's Vegetation, and anatomists present us in their atlases
with a man now all muscles, now all circulatory organs, now
all skeleton, and so on. In arithmetic the unitary method offers
an illustration, as also the general formulae in mathematics
and the decimal system of measurement,1 model experiments
where one factor at a time is tested, especially an experimentum
crucis, exemplify this Conclusion; and the simplest case includes
mathematical or some other rigidly definite form of statement,
and choosing for recollection, for study, for illustration, or for
constructive purposes, a single typical example in connection
with classes of facts. Thus, in comparing races, we may compare
the European with the Australian bushman, as races culturally
placed at the opposite sides of the scale, and in comparing
their respective capacities we may examine their scholastic
achievements under fairly identical circumstances, whilst in
comparing individuals we may contrast an average person in
intellect and moral attainments with a man of first-class scien-
tific or moral standing. Darwin was well aware of the advantage
of this Conclusion : "As soon as the idea of descent of species
took definite shape in [Darwin's] mind, he determined, after
deliberation, to take up the study of domestic pigeons. H&
selected these because the variations were more numerous and
plainer, more of them had arisen in the historical period than
is usual with animal groups, the material was abundant and
easily accessible, etc." (Frank Cramer, op. cit, p. 53.)2

1 The English system of measurement and spelling and the Roman
numerals are painf'ul revelations of the opposite method. Compare also
the French naming of some figures: 99 = quatre-vingt-dix-neuf.

2 "In settling valencies, the greatest caution has accordingly to be observed
by the chemist. He deals, if possible, especially in studying the elements
with higher valencies, only with compounds of simple type containing if
possible only one atom in the molecule of the polyvalent element, and he
directs his attention to the compound which he can prepare with the
highest valency exhibited, and in that compound univalent elements so far
as possible occupying the available dynamic centres of the polyvalent
element." (Benjamin Moore, op. cit., pp. 91-92.)

"Long ago, physiologists learned that the quest for explanations of living
activities lay along the line of investigating them in their most rudimentary
expression." (W. A. Locy, op. cit., p. 104.)

The Report of the Indian Factory Labour Commission tells how "one
witness of long practical experience stated that any man would feel exhausted
if he merely sat in a chair in some of the workrooms for eight or nine
hours, the atmosphere was so foul". Given a regular succession of move-

298 PART V.— WORKING STAGE.

§ 148. To venture on one somewhat circumstantial illustra-
tion. Suppose the question arises of the origin and development
of language. We start with imagining the simplest case, and
observe how far the facts depart therefrom. We assume that
we hear the word "shrill" pronounced by a young child who
is just able to read and does not know its import, and we
conclude, to abide by the simplest case, that the word is and
has always been pronounced precisely in the same manner by
everybody in all ages. Similarly we assume the signification
of the word to be as definite and immutable as its sound, and
the number of words in the language to be constant. We now
inquire how far the facts vindicate or refute our conclusion.

(a) We note, first, speaking historically, that no fixed standard
of pronunciation exists, and that, accordingly, in a relatively
short period of time, most especially before the era of writing
and printing, the pronunciation of a word may alter measurably;
that these alterations lead to further variations and adaptations ;
and that, therefore, other things being equal, practically every
people, or comparatively isolated human group, comes eventually
to possess a language of its own, which, with the ages, is
necessarily transformed into another and another.

(b) We have assumed that speech consists of words always
identically pronounced, and of nothing else. Applying again
the simplest case by comparing the reading of an intensely
dramatic passage by an uninterested child, on the one hand,
and a passionate actor, on the other, we find that, at least to
many a people, a different sound value is attached to the words
according to their position in a sentence and according to the
importance attached to them at a given time. We observe,
further, sounds indicative of emotion accompanying the words,
and we notice expressive facial gestures, and also gesticulations
made with hands, etc. In some languages and in some localities
we also trace a regular musical intonation in speech, especially
when there is strong feeling. We establish these variations,
from the spiritless word to the word intoned and accompanied
by gesticulations. We note, finally, the sound value of words
in songs and operas.

(c) We ask whether the word "love" has in reality a rigidly
fixed meaning, and we learn that it is liable to alter in signi-
fication as in sound, and for the same reasons. On this account
we discover transitional, transformed, supplementary, and
multiple meanings. Experience we ascertain to be in a fluid
condition, especially in earlier epochs, and we also learn that
knowledge expands from age to age, originating with the veriest
minimum, without there being, as there might conceivably be,
an immutable method of changing or of adding words and

ments, etc., in a habit, they may be ascertained by noting on one occasion
the first movement, etc., on a second occasion the second, and so on to the
end.

SECTION 22.— OBSERVATION. 299

meanings. Thus such terms as box, get, good, have, point,
virtue, and scores of other words, especially such in common
use, bewilderingly differ in meaning according to a particular
context, and scarcely any word, in earlier ages, can be said to
have possessed a single, definite, and fixed connotation.1 Note
affect (pretend), affected (unnatural), affecting (impressive),
affection (love, illness); or, charging the enemy, charging the
prisoner, charging a fee, charging some one with a mission,
charging a gun, charging a boat. In our schools the two
emphatic adjectives "ripping" and "rotten", and the adverb
"awfully", replace literally hundreds of words among our
budding writers of prose and poetry, and, likewise, the poverty-
stricken vocabulary of the uneducated does not by any means
argue that their store of ideas is correspondingly scanty.
Assuming, then, a vocabulary altering in form in consonance
with (a), we are further bound to take for granted that the
meaning is also subject to mutation, since it, too, is fluid,
mainly because of the fluidity of experience.

(d) If (a) and (c) contained the whole truth, the vocabulary
of all languages would remain identical in magnitude, however
its form and meaning varied. Examining, however, by the
simplest practicable case, the vocabulary of the uneducated,
we reach the conclusion that a few hundred primary words
suffice in an undeveloped social state, as appears to be ap-
proximately the case among the Australian bushmen. We
further note, on analysing, that the primitive vocabulary refers
to the most common objects and to the commonest wants, and
that the names of uncommon objects and abstract objects and
wants are developed out of the primitive vocabulary. Thus
certain sentiments may be adverted to, as blazing, flaming, fiery,
incandescent, glowing, boiling, white hot, red hot, hot, warm,
tepid, lukewarm, cool, chilly, cold, frigid, freezing, glaciated,
arctic, icy, or we may alter concrete nouns to concrete and
other verbs, as in to screen, to mask, to veil, to cloak, to
disguise a person or thought. For this reason we are not
surprised to find that poetry and metaphor remind us of a
stage prior to cold prose which is almost void of imagery but
self-explanatory. We also perceive that words become impercep-

1 "'Turn in' is from this point of view one of the most astonishing words
in a language exceptionally active in extracting the last ounce of utility from
a single word. The verb 'to turn' has, in this its latest analysis, 47 main
senses and 65 sub-senses. Then there are 25 senses on special phrases,
such as 'turn the scale', 'turn colour', 'turn tail', and so on, and 16 com-
binations with adverbs, as 'turn in', 'turn off, 'turn about', and these too
have their subdivisions — 'turn up', is used in 27 distinct ways — so that, in
all, the sense divisions of this busy little vocable number 286. And even
then we have not begun on the substantive Turn, which fills 36 columns
and, we are not surprised to hear, accounted for no less than three months
of Sir James Murray's valuable time.' " (From a review of Sir James A. H.Mur-
ray's English Dictionary, in The Times Literary Supplement, July 29, 1915.)

300

PART V.— WORKING STAGE.

tibly modified to indicate certain differences in meaning, as in
love, loves, to love, loving, lovely, lovable, loveless, unloved,
beloved;1 that words are doubled by prefixing or postfixing a
word to create an added meaning— blackbird, black bird, house-
breaker, house breaker, the prefixes and postfixes frequently
losing their individuality and in their simplified form being
often employed to coin new words — co-operation, co-education;
that the same word differently pronounced or accentuated has
sometimes a separate meaning allotted to it — minute, retail;
that certain roots of words are fertile causes of new words,
as st: stable, stack, stall, stand, state, statics, stick, still, stock,
stone, etc.; that different parts of speech are freely formed
one from another— bicycle, to bicycle; that names of persons
and places are framed from the names of objects or actions and
vice versa— Stone, Taylor, mackintosh, boycott; that natural
sounds are imitated — doves coo and crows caw, or to take a
striking series— bash, clash, crash, dash, flash, gash, gnash,
hash, lash, slash, mash, smash, splash, quash, squash, rash,
thrash, trdsh,; that reasons of delicacy and temperamental
causes generally are productive of new meanings — deranged,
demented, insane, neurasthenic, mentally disordered for mad,
or all right, quite right, quite all right for right; or compare
the original and modern meanings of pagan, knave, urbane,
silly; that certain forms and modes of combination are pre-
ferred— efflux for exflux; the day before yesterday for foreyester-
day, that perfunctoriness and indolence impose heavy burdens
on frequently used words, such as have or get; that aversion
to repetition encourages diversity of expression in contiguous
passages — prodigious, colossal, immense, huge, gigantic, stupen-
dous. Following the simplest case, we gain in this manner
considerable insight into the process by which a vocabulary
of, say, a few hundred words becomes transmuted into a
language boasting, perhaps, a few hundred thousand words
expressing several hundred thousand meanings and capable of
indefinite expansion.

The following are among prefixes employed in English: a, a, ab, ad,
after, alter, ambi, ana, ante, anti, arch, auto, back, be, bene, bi, bio, bis,
bi, circum, con, contra, counter, de, demi, dia, dis, dys, en, enter, epi,
equi, eu, ex, extra, for, fore, hemi, here, homo, hydro, hyper, hypo, in,
in, inter, infra, intro, juxta, long, mal, meta, mis, mono, multi, non, ob, off,
out, over, pan, per, peri, poly, post, pre, pro, re, retro, se, semi, short,
sine, sub, super, sur, syn, tele, there, trans, un, ultra, un under, uni,
vice, with; and these prefixes may be compounded as in in-de-com-pos-

1 Here is a longer list— credible, credibly, credibility; incredible, incredibly,
incredibility; (to) credit, credited, crediting, credit, creditor; (to) discredit,
hscrediting, discredited; creditable, creditably, creditableness; discreditable,
iscreditably, discreditableness; credulous, credulously, credulousness, credu-
lity; incredulous, incredulously, incredulousness, incredulity; accredit, ac-
credited, accrediting; credence, credential; credo, creed; credal, credally,
creedlet.

SECTION 22.— OBSERVATION. 301

able. Postfixes play, of course, a complimentary part in the formation
of words. Many thousands of words owe thus their signification to affixes.
The Latin verb vertere (vertere, verti, versum) supplies us through this
channel with nearly three hundred words. Here is an almost complete
list:

versatile, versatility ; verse, verses, versicle, versicles; versify, versified,
versifying, versification, versifications, versifier, versifiers; versed; version,
versions; vertebra, vertebrae; vertebrate, vertebrate, vertebrates, inverte-
brate, invertebrates; vertex, vertices, vertical, vertically, verticalness;
vertigo, vertiginous; vortex, vortices, vortical.

avert, averted, averting, aversion, aversions; averse, aversely, averseness.

advert, adverted, adverting, adverting ; adverse, adversely, adverseness ;
adversary, adversaries; adversity; adversative, advertence, advertency;
inadvertent, inadvertently, inadvertence; advertise, advertised, advertising,
advertisement, advertisements, advertiser, advertisers.

animadvert, animadverted, animadverting, animadversion, animad-
versions.

convert, converted, converting, conversion, conversions; convertible,
convertibility; unconverted, inconvertible, inconvertibility; convert, con-
verts; converse, conversely, converseness; converse, conversed, conversing,
conversation, conversations; conversational, conversationally; conversa-
tionalist, conversationalists; conversazione, conversazione; conversable,
conversably, conversant; reconvert, reconverted, reconverting, reconversion,
reconversions; reconvertible, reconvertibility.

controvert, controverted, controverting, controverting; controvertible.
controvertibly; controversial, controversially, controversy, controversies,
controversialist, controversialists.

divert, diverted, diverting, diversion, diversions; divers, diverse, diver-
sely, diversity, diversities; diversify, diversified, diversifying, diversifi-
cation, diversifications; divorce, divorces, divorcee; redivert, rediverted,
rediverting, rediversion, rediversions.

invert, inverted," inverting, inversion, inversions; inversely, inversely,
inverseness; reinvert, rein verted, reinverted, rein version, reinversions.

malversation, malversations.

obvert, obverted, obverting, obversion, obversions; obverse, obversely,
obverse, obverseness.

pervert, perverted, perverting, perversion, perversions; perverse, per-
versely, perverseness; perversity; pervertible, pervertibility, impervertibi-
lity; perverter, perverters; unperverted; repervert, reperverted, repervert-
ing, reperversion, reperversions.

revert, reverted, reverting, reversion, reversions, reversionary, reversal,
reversals; reverse, reversely, reverseness; reverse, reverses; reversible,
reversibility; irreversible, irreversibility ; reverse, reversed, reversing,
reversion, reversions; revertible, revertibility, retroversion ; rerevert, re-
reverted, rereverting, rereversion, rereversions ; rereversible, rereversi-
bility, rerevertible, rerevertibility.

subvert, subverted, subverting, subversion, subversions; subversive,
subversively, subversiveness; subvertible, subvertibility; resubvert, resub-
verted, resubverting, resub version, resubversions; resubvertible, resub-
vertibility; insubvertible, insubvertibility.

tergiversation, tergiversations.

transverse, transversely, transverseness.

traverse, traversed, traversing, traversing; traversable, traversability ;
intraversible, intraversibility; traverser, traversers; retraverse, retraversed,
retraversing, retra versing ; retraversible, retraversibility.

universe, universal, universally, universality, universalism, university,
universities.

(e) From the above analysis we infer, through searching for
the simplest case, that — given an insignificant vocabulary — in-
numerable languages, with extensive vocabularies, special

302

PART V,- WORKING STAGE.

grammars, and rich meanings, will evolve necessarily and with
astonishing rapidity.1

(/) Needless to state that the application of the simplest
practicable case to the problem of the nature of an ideal lan-
guage should prove, as it is already proving in modern arti-
ficial languages, fruitful of good results. (See, however, § 205.)

§ 149. The whole of the above analysis suggests therefore
the decided advantage of simplifying our problem as completely
as possible, for this enables us with a minimum of effort to
explore a subject systematically. There is scarcely a sphere of
knowledge where the utilisation of the simplest practicable case
is not applicable and of appreciable value, as, for example, in
all cultural matters of a practical character where, instead of
beginning forthwith de novo, we should first search for the best
that has been accomplished in a particular or cognate direction.
Thus, for instance, instead of assuming that armies and navies
are necessary in the same sense as a police force is, we note
that neutralised States exist and flourish without rattling or
drawing the sword,2 and that this is even truer of towns and
provinces. Or if national sentiment is said to be indissolubly
connected with a common tongue, the case of Switzerland is
an apt reminder of the limitations of the generalisation.

§ 150. Another social problem of formidable dimensions
might with advantage be approached by the same avenue—
that is, the question of an adequate normal income for all. As
is pointed out in Conclusions 14 and 15, the solutions custom-
arily proposed are on this subject disappointing.

We might, then, proceed as follows. Having found that ster-
ling material and efficient workmanship are really cheapest,
we consider, say, the durability of a suit of clothes worn by a
careful person. We repeat the enquiry in regard to each portion
of the suit, and assume throughout (a) that we select colours, etc.,
which, other things being equal, are least affected by sun, wear,
or fashion, and (6) that the individual has been trained to be
careful with his garments and to undertake practically all minor

1 The problem of an effective medium of lingual communication is not
entirely solved until the question of the juxtaposition of words is considered.
For example, two words may express one idea, as silver wedding, golden
wedding, diamond wedding, and so with analogously framed word couplets
and triplets. Even beyond this, the more cautiously we examine cultured
speech, the more we discern the frequent associating of certain terms. Thus
we often speak, for instance, of an invincible army, an implacable foe, an
inexorable fate, an indomitable will, an inflexible determination, an unshake-
able conviction. Those who are best capable of expressing their thoughts
clearly and forcibly, exemplify in a convincing manner this trend of select-
ing and fixing the most appropriate correlates of words. This process is,
moreover, extended to sentences, as in idiomatic expressions, conventional
tormulae, and polished diction. The ordinary dictionary, which by its method
suggests that the nature and history of language are summed up in isolated
words, is seriously misleading.

- This sentence was penned before the war.

SECTION 22.— OBSERVATION. 303

repairs. Secondly, should circumstances favour it, we make an
analogous study of wearing apparel in general, the food, drink,
housing, furnishing, and recreation problems, where generally,
and especially in respect of food and drink, much might be
immensely and advantageously simplified and omitted, to the
confusion of doctors and even of preachers. And, thirdly, we
allow for certain other classes of expenditure, and for the fact
that the entire problem is primarily a family problem— includ-
ing mother, father, and, say, three children.1

Having reached this point in our enquiry, we are prepared
to venture on the second step, namely, to ascertain how much has
to be deducted (a) for superfluous middle-men, (b) for inferior
material and bad workmanship due to diverse social causes,
(c) for methods of management, production, and distribution
short of the most economical, and (d) for individuals not work-
ing—ultimately only children and the aged, since strikes, lock-
outs, unemployment, idleness, and illness would be virtually
annihilated in a well-ordered community. To simplify the en-
quiry, however, we only examine two or three articles and those
the simplest and most important. We obtain, as a result, by
judicious generalisation, approximately the true normal income
necessary for an individual, a family, and a people. Until this
calculation has been effected — and a competent and progressively-
minded committee of men and women economists, with their
eyes open and going directly to the facts, could accomplish it
in a measurable time for all practicable purposes — we shall
achieve little progress in the direction of discussing profitably
the paramount social problem of the abolition of poverty and,
with it, of riches and of unwholesome work and competition.
In fact, this Conclusion might aid us in formulating a scientific
utopia for our day, to realise which should be the combined
task of statesman, reformer, and ordinary citizen. Incidentally,
the conclusion arrived at would, in a practical manner, dispose
of the problem of the much lauded and debated simple life.

The vexing wages problem, so simple in appearance and so
complex in reality, may be approached by the same method.
Suppose all engaged in production and distribution have the
same income, and suppose the income is reduced 25°/o. Then,
other things being equal, the price of all articles is reduced 25°/o ;
but the income having fallen 25°/o, the purchasing power will
be the same as before, the lower price corresponding to the
lower income. However, desire to earn 25°/o more, may lead
to a 25% increase in output, which would mean a 25% de-
crease in price and a consequent 25°/o increase in purchasing
power. Or disappointment at the 25°/o decrease in income may
cause a 25°/o decrease in output, when the purchasing power
will be reduced by 25°/o. Looking at the problem another way,

1 For a list of family requirements, see § 127.

304

PART V— WORKING STAGE.

the employing class may absorb the whole 25°/o decrease in
wages, when the workers will be simply 25°/o the poorer. Or
the profits may be so high that a 25% lowering of wages may
make only a 5°/o difference in price, when the workers' purchas-
ing power will have fallen by 20°/o . Again, the already inadequate
wages may be driven down 50°/o. The consequence may be
that the efficiency of the workers is very seriously impaired
through malnutrition, overcrowding, and the mental and material
crippling of the new generation, the value of the output being
reduced thereby by 50°/o or even 75%. Or the wages may be
increased 25% or even 50°/o, and the output keep pace be-
cause of the vigour imparted to the working class by the higher
standard of healthy living created. Furthermore, when average
wages are considered, we may calculate that they must cover
the ordinary current needs of a standardised family of five,
plus perhaps 25% extra for various non-ordinary expenses and
contingencies.

§ 151. Or examine the educational possibilities inherent in
children.1 The majority of our future citizens attend the
publicly provided school from their kindergarten days to the
age of fourteen, by which time they seem to have acquired
only the rudiments of the elements of learning. The world in
its physical, intellectual, moral, aesthetic, and evolutionary as-
pects, except for the barest surface, has remained, and will pro-
bably*remain, practically a closed book to them. The position
is slightly, though not appreciably, improved when we weigh
the results obtained in the schools where the well-to-do send
their offspring. If we desire, however, to apply the simplest
practicable case to our problem, we shall search for an in-
stance where a teacher had one or a few children in charge
and was highly successful. This we find in the relation of
James Mill to his son John Stuart Mill.2 Here we meet with
a magnificent result which suggests that the school, unless it
is thoroughly reformed, is an extremely inefficient institution,
and that the sooner it is replaced by home education,3 the
sooner will the coming generations consist of men and women
of culture and insight, instead of being composed, as at present,
of a great mass almost void of any real ability, social enthusi-
asm, and refinement. .

It will be averred, perhaps, that the younger Mill was by
nature much superior to his fellows. To this two replies may

1 This may be taken to comprehend early training generally. Beyond
this, it also applies to youthful persons, though not to the same extent: "In
Mr. Gantt's training of factory girls he has been able to make the large
majority of each set into 'first-class workers', chiefly by the exercise of
patience and tact." (M. and A. D. McKillop, op. cit., p. 109.)

! See for a similar instance: The Education of Karl Witte, ed. by
H. Addington Bruce, and for further illustrations Mr. Bruce's Introduction.
John Locke, in his Conduct of the Understanding, is emphatic in respect
of the advantages of home education.

SECTION 22.— OBSERVATION. 305

be tendered. First, John Stuart Mill explicitly and categori-
cally denied that such was the case. Secondly, the present
author has watched the early education of children in homes,
and has reached the conclusion that any child of nine or ten
ought not only to know, speaking generally, as much as child-
ren leaving the elementary school at fourteen, but vastly more,
so far at least as real education is concerned. The secret is not
a deeply veiled one. First, the child can be led to observe
and know most of the simpler natural phenomena, to acquire
manipulative dexterity, to make substantial progress in arith-
metic and drawing, as well as to listen to simplified stories
which would promote in him or her an understanding of, and
interest in, all kinds of important problems. Secondly, the
child is encouraged to read and re-read books, printed in large
type and written in plain language and well illustrated, on
many fundamental topics— astronomy, etheorology, geology,
natural history, anthropology, psychology, history, geography,
inventions and discoveries of a practical character, etc. If to
this be added the older Mill's method of encouraging clear and
thoughtful expression in speaking and writing of things learnt
and considered, and a complementary training in morals and in
the appreciation of things useful and beautiful, the outcome is
quite beyond anything one could possibly hope for from the
school in its present form, especially if we also include in our
purview systematic methodological teaching of the type advo-
cated in this volume.

Assuming intelligent direction, one fairly well prepared mentor
could educate with facility, say, six children, until the age of
self-education arrives, that is, several years before the average
child now leaves the elementary school, after which period the
teacher could as easily assist double or treble this number of
children.

This analysis suggests several conclusions — that the present-
day schools are, comparatively speaking, wofully inefficient;
that the supreme aim of education should be to create in the
young a love of truth, goodness, health, work, and beauty, and
not merely to pump into them in class and during certain hours
a given amount of "necessary" knowledge; that the schools
should primarily succeed, if they are to succeed at all, in per-
suading children intelligently to read and re-read for themselves
simply but ably written books on the leading topics of cultural
interest,1 to study problems at first hand, to become dexterous
in every kind of manual activity, and to be habitually reflective
and judicious; that they should obtain the co-operation of the
home in order that the children are led to observe, examine,
reflect, and act with decision ; that the schools should raise their

1 According to Darwin "there are no advantages and many disadvantages
in lectures compared with reading". (Life and Letters, vol. 1, p. 33.)

20

306

PART V.— WORKING STAGE.

standard of attainment for the different ages to that of James
Mill's, and reduce the proportion of scholars under a teacher
to about six for the earlier and twelve or more for the later
stages; and, lastly, that the school is either doomed to be super-
seded partly or wholly by the home, or else should be trans-
formed root upwards in accordance with the above demands.
Indeed, from the point of view of a high conception of moral
education, the present method of herding the children together,
would be grotesque and criminal if it were not for the time
being, perhaps, inevitable. Those who profess faith in mass
education need to advance sterling reasons why it is necessary
to congregate large numbers of children, and how it is possible
in such circumstances to do justice to them either morally or
intellectually. Here, also, the simplest practicable case should
be applied.

§ 152. The simplest practicable case might be profitably
divided into:

(a) centring an enquiry round one or a few instances which
can be easily and exhaustively studied in respect of the aspects
cited in our table of Primary Categories;

(ft) scientific experiments where factors are isolated and where
quantitative results are aimed at;

(c) use of instruments to aid the senses, and devising precise,
refined, and powerful instruments (as Davey's battery, Faraday's
magnet, the Ross telescope, Bose's magnetic crescograph, the
motor driven hammer and crane, the giant airship and aero-
plane, the towering factory chimney causing an enormous
draught, etc.), besides instituting well equipped laboratories,
experimental stations, and observatories;

(d) mathematical, quantitative, or definite form of procedure
and statement;

(e) idealised statements (e.g., the earth regarded as at rest
and as having an axis, conceptual and real models, economic
charts and diagrams, map projections and relief maps, sketches
and simplified substitutes generally where necessary);1

(/) scientifically established and universally accepted measures,
formulae, processes, methods, terms, etc., and preserving one
or more standard measures, etc. ;

1 Simplification is very frequently resorted to in science. Here is a typical
example: "In connection with the general problem of aerial vibrations in
three dimensions one of the first things, which naturally offers itself, is the
determination of the motion in an unlimited atmosphere consequent upon
arbitrary initial disturbances. It will be assumed that the disturbance is
small, so that the ordinary approximate equations are applicable, and further
that the initial velocities are such as can be derived from a velocity-poten-
tial, or that there is no circulation. ... We shall also suppose in the first
place that no external forces act upon the fluid, so that the motion to be
investigated is due solely to a disturbance actually existing at a time (t = 0)
previous to which we do not push our enquiries." (Lord Rayleigh, Theory
of Sound, vol. 2, 1896.)

SECTION 22.— OBSERVATION. 307

(g) approaching the unknown and remote from the side of
the known and near (as in geology);

(h) selection of pure, conveniently large, and simplified in-
stances (as in botany and physiology), and excluding or intro-
ducing single factors (as oxygen, moisture, heat, and the like)
by suitable methods;

(i) observing, and experimenting with, myriads of instances,
and continuing this for many years (as exemplified in Luther
Burbank's enquiries); and

(y) proceeding by the law of averages and probability;

(k) ascertaining whether the senses or the instruments are
at the time of investigation in normal condition;

(/) following Descartes' injunction, and dividing, as far as
possible, complex problems into simple ones before investigating
them; and

(m) isolating objects and forces, phases and circumstances,
utilising here Mill's Canons of Difference and Residue (as in
the experimental determination of food-stuffs necessary to plants
or animals);1

(ri) aiming at the ideally simple and minimal in thought,
movement, energy, means, material, conclusion, and statement
(e.g., the use of mercury instead of water in the barometer,
the tonic solfa notation, the continuous twenty-four hours'
system of measurement, summing the zeros as in 7X1023,
furnishing percentages, establishing international index numbers
and units in all departments, romanising the Japanese and
Chinese alphabets, fountain pens, rustless steel for knives) ; and

1 Professor Bateson, speaking of Abbe Mendel's experiments, says: "In
order to obtain a clear result he saw that it was absolutely necessary to
start with pure-breeding, homogeneous materials, to consider each character
separately, and on no account to confuse the different generations together."
(Mendel's Principles of Heredity, 1909, p. 7.) In this cautious manner Mendel
studied separately seven different characters of the pea, and his followers
have even excelled him in thoroughness. So, too, it was only after animals
were fed upon thoroughly purified proteins, fats, carbo-hydrates, and certain
mineral salts, that the need of other essential food factors became evident,
whilst, conversely, the addition of the latter produced a perfect diet. In
physical and mechanical enquiries it is common to assume a fact to be far
simpler than it is for the purpose of securing a point of departure. Hence
we read in mechanics of points, particles, rigid bodies, and perfect fluids.
When the solution for the idealised fact is obtained, less simple facts are
studied until, so far as possible, the fact is known in all its complexity.
That such is the procedure in geometry, with its perfect triangles, squares,
and circles, is a commonplace. The use of the magnetic needle in magnetic
experiments offers a further instance of circumventing the unnecessary com-
plexity which arises when ordinary magnetic substances are employed.

The principle of the simplest case is involved in the principles of "least
effort", "the line of least resistance", "the law of parsimony", and in the
phrases "entities are not to be multiplied without necessity" (William of
Occam), and "no more natural causes are to be assumed than such as are
true and suffice to explain the phenomena" (Newton). (See a short article
on "The Simplicity of Natural Laws", by Dr. C. H. Desch, in The Positivist
Review, May, 1912.)

20*

308 PART V.— WORKING STAGE.

(o) preferring the simplest form of generalising and generali-
sations, deducing and deductions, postulating and hypotheses,
verifying and verifications, defining and definitions, stating and
statements, etc.

This Conclusion should, among other things, aid in revolu-
tionising the methods of teaching in schools and colleges, and
its results should be developed more especially by means of
Conclusions 27 and 28.

CONCLUSION 20 a.

Need of Degree Determination within and between Divisions,
and,- in this connection, need of searching for Pure, Normal,
Minimal, Maximal, Parallel, Distantly Related, Seemingly Un-
related, Deviating, Morbid, Eccentric, Border, and Transitional
Instances. (For text, see Conclusion 27.)

CONCLUSION 206.

Need of Proceeding Dialectically, /.P., need of searching in
connection with any facts for what is Contradictory, Contrary,
Opposite, Common, Disparate, Dependent, Interdependent,
Supplementary, Alternative, Complementary, and Relative. (For
text, see Conclusion 28.)

CONCLUSION 21.

Need of Habitual Alertness in order to discover Exceptional,

Unobtrusive, and Unsuspected Facts, and need of Unremitting

Concentration in Scientific Work generally.

§ 153. (A) HABITUAL ALEKTNESS.-We should, accord-
ing to this first part, bring into full consciousness what might
remain an obscure or passing observation or reflection. Every
hint should be tracked to its lair, and ours should be an
expectant attitude of mind always prepared to find that a
particular experience does not harmonise with our average ex-
perience, with another's experience, or with common experience.
Everything we perceive should teach us something new, even
when we have frequently encountered it before ; we should
keep alive the faculty of wonder, ever remaining sensitive,
receptive, responsive, approachable, awake. We need to dis-
courage lazy and hazy thinking, and be perennially on the alert
lest we miss what is significant in a fresh or an unexpected
connection. There should be an almost blind and instinctive
desire to reach the whole of the fact and nothing but the fact,
as well as to seize on what is of moment. Previous knowledge
should be held suspect, and the supposition should be made
that the form which common knowledge assumes is seriously
incomplete. Examination and reasoning should be guided by
the data rather than by preconceived notions, e.g., instead of
echoing the common assertion that the body renews itself every

SECTION 22 —OBSERVATION. 309

seven years, we should be ready to find that some cells are
replaced at frequent intervals, whilst others, such as the neural
cells, never, or altogether, pass away; or instead of assuming
that all twins intimately resemble each other, we might discover
that there are two types — those closely resembling each other,
developed from the same egg, and those plainly different,
produced from two different eggs; or we might learn that
"there are upland geese with webbed feet, ground woodpeckers,
diving thrushes, and petrels with the habits of auks" (Darwin);
or we might discover that a certain lowland plant transferred
to a high plateau assumes the features of a certain highland
plant and loses these when returned to the valley, but that
the highland plant translated to the valley retains its highland
characteristics; or experience might enlighten us about whis-
pering galleries and opaque acoustic "clouds", and not only
teach us that cooling water begins to expand at 4° C., but that
in certain circumstances it may be cooled down to over ten
degrees below 0° C. without freezing ; or experiment might
teach us that living larvaB might be produced by chemical
changes from unfertilised eggs in the case of diverse species-
starfish, sea-urchins, holothurians, and others; or alertness
might enable us to connect avian polyneuritis with human beri-
beri, and also to assume that there may be life-endangering
deficiency diseases which can be cured by the simple process
of supplying what is lacking; or we might find, contrary to
anticipation, that at the beginning of the week's work and the
first hour of work in the morning less is produced than after
the first day and after the first" hour, and that during the last
hour before lunch and before leaving work in the evening
more is produced relatively to some of the intervening hours,
and that those working fewer hours produce, within large
limits, correspondingly more. Seeming incongruities should be
fastened on as possible new centres of departure instead of as
matters to be ignored or explained away, as with the anomalous
position of argon and iodine in the Periodical Table of the
elements.1 Darwin, according to his son, was above all things
a believer in alertness: "There was one quality of mind which
seemed to be of special and extreme advantage in leading him to

1 "If some opposite instance, not observed or not known before, chance to
come in the way, the axiom is rescued and preserved by some frivolous dis-
tinction; whereas the truer course would be to correct the axiom itself."
(Bacon, Novum Organum, bk. 1, 25.) Some famous instances of this kind should
not. be overlooked. When it was shown that water did not rise higher in
a pump than thirty-two feet, it was contended that nature's horror of a
vacuum ceased at that limit; when it was demonstrated that the supposed
loss of substance in combustion could be accounted for, it was argued that
phlogiston possessed the characteristic of positive levity ; and when Darwin
proposed his theory of natural selection, attempts were made to modify the
theories of special creation so that they might be in formal consonance
with the results of geological and biological research.

310

PART V. -WORKING STAGE.

make discoveries. It was the power of never letting exceptions
pass unnoticed." (Charles Darwin, 1902, p. 94.) And his analyst
writes : "The starting points of his investigations were frequently
what seemed to other men interesting, but unimportant or in-
convenient, exceptional facts." (Frank Cramer, op. cit, p. 230.)1
John Stuart Mill speaks in Chapter 4 of his Autobiography of
"a mental habit to which I attribute all that I have ever done,
or ever shall do, in speculation: that of never accepting half-
solutions of difficulties as complete ; never abandoning a puzzle,
but again and again returning to it until it was cleared up ; never
allowing obscure corners of a subject to remain unexplored, be-
cause they did not appear important ; never thinking that I per-
fectly understood any part of a subject until I understood the
whole". Of Lord Kelvin, his biographer says: "He believed
that light would come at last on the most baffling of problems,
if only it were looked at from every point of view and its con-
ditions were completely formulated." (Lord Kelvin, by Andrew
Gray, 1908, p. 306.) "It was a happy thought of Glauber",
writes Sir John Herschel, in his Discourse, "to examine what
everybody else threw away." (161.) "In case any exception
occurs, it must be carefully noted and set aside for re-examina-
tion at a more advanced period." (172.) "It is commonly stated",
writes Thorpe, "that the exception is a proof of the rule. The
history of science can show many instances whereby the rule
has been demolished by the exception. Little facts have killed
big theories, even as a pebble has slain a giant." (Op. cit.,
vol. 1, p. 85.) Sir Michael Fyster, speaking of the scientific
worker, declares: "He must be alert of mind. Nature is ever
making signs to us, she is ever whispering to us the beginnings
of her secrets; the scientific man must be ever on the watch,
ready at once to lay hold of Nature's hint, however small, to
listen to her whisper, however low." (Presidential Address to
the British Association, 1899, p. 16.)

We should, furthermore, be alert in our thought, utilising all the
serviceable memories and rapidly elaborating as many provisional
conclusions and deductions as the circumstances permit.

Primarily we need to be guided by the consideration, illustrated
in Conclusion 19, that what obtrudes itself is most generally
indifferent scientifically, and that what is significant scientifically
has to be searched for in unsuspected quarters. Common ob-
servation would never have revealed to us the nature of the
white corpuscles or phagocytes which, according to Metschnikoff ,

1 Adverting to how Sir William Crookes was led to his vacuum tube
experiments, Sir William Ramsay (Essays Biographical and Chemical, 1908)
remarks: "Here again we see the advantage of following up small trails;
they may widen to great and most important roads." (P. 124.) And he adds :
believe that Ro'ntgen's discovery arose from an accidental observation
that a box of photographic plates left near a Crookes tube became 'fogged',
and he too had genius to follow up this clue." (P. 125.) Poincare has a
suggestive passage on this point in Science et methode, 1908, p. 311.

SKCTION 22.— OBSERVATION. 311

are our protection against certain dangerous bacteria, nor would
observation of this kind have disclosed to us the existence of
countless classes of such bacteria, much less that in many in-
stances the malignant bacteria are carried and nursed by some
animal or insect, as in the case of malaria, the "Nagan" horse
and cattle disease, sleeping sickness, and the plague. Nor would
ordinary reasoning have led us to observe that the telegraph
wire guides, but does not carry, the electricity, that telegraphic
messages might be sent without any conductor, or that it might
•be possible to be in London and yet make one's voice heard in
Paris or Rome. And it required alertness for a medical student
to notice that ether numbs pain, or for some one to identify
the specks of yeast with vegetable life, to be struck with the
nucleus of the cell, or to suggest that lunatics should be ordered
to bed.1 The longer one revolves such discoveries, the more
one is astonished that most of them should not have been
made long ago, and the intenser becomes the conviction that,
when once a scientific methodology is established, obscure or
delicate hints will seldom be neglected by even amateur workers
in science.

However, alertness is not less a virtue in the domain of
practice, and this is admitted by business men. Yet so far as
officialdom is concerned, it is largely, allowing for certain
honourable exceptions, in an arrested stage of development.
Here we have, so to speak, an exemplification of the workings
of the more or less primitive mind. The typical official reasons
that in lack of caution lurk dangers, and he thus arrives at
the suspicious conclusion that in doubtful matters he must do
no more than he is absolutely bound to. Risks — and there are
risks in practically everything — are therefore to be avoided at
all costs, an attitude which every business man knows spells
disaster, if not ruin. Similarly, everything tends to be organised
on the Noah's ark principle. Every official has assigned to him
a narrowly and arbitrarily circumscribed sphere of action, and
a hierarchy of public servants is established with definite in-
elastic responsibilities and human relationships reduced and
degraded to an exchange of minutes. Initiative, adaptability,
and progress are hence seriously obstructed, and an organisa-
tion is created which will not only do nothing that is wrong,
but do nothing beyond what it is forced to do. Hence the govern-

1 Catalysers and enzymes form an excellent illustration of our thesis, for
nothing save dogged alertness would have revealed them. Here are some
examples relating to catalysers: "A mixture of oxygen and hydrogen im-
mediately explodes when it is brought in contact with platinum black.
Common coal gas inflames when brought in contact with finely divided
platinum. Sulphur dioxide is by the same agency quickly oxidised to sul-
phuric acid. Hydroperoxide is rapidly split into oxygen and water when in
contact with platinum black. In all these cases the quantity of platinum
black is not diminished after the reaction, and the products of the reactions
are never any of the platinum compounds." (Frederick Czapek, op. cit., p. 84.)

312

PART V.— WORKING STAGE.

ment machine is too frequently a gigantic treadmill where
mighty efforts produce intangible results. The intentions of
the bureaucrat, we perceive, are immaculate; but he is not
alert enough, and virtually strangles the great hopes reposed
in him. Not until the government machine has been converted
into an organism, will it be an instrument of social progress.
An alert community will insist on, and carry through, a radical
reform of public services, with the object that these services
should successfully compete in efficiency with the best com-
mercial, industrial, and scientific services.

Habitual alertness, lastly, will be immensely . aided by the
conscious assumption that all variations, however common or
slight, as in the size, shape, foliage, flowers, vigour, or resistance
of plants, should be regarded as demanding elucidation and
explanation, and as possibly exemplifying far-reaching principles.

§ 154. (B) UNREMITTING CONCENTRATION— The mind
should be ceaselessly concentrated in all scientific work, and
never be allowed to be greatly or entirely relaxed. Only in
this manner are we likely to escape superficiality and error,
and make certain that the wheel of progress shall perpetually
revolve and advance, for with the diverse mental powers
unstrung, we become mechanical and our work is of necessity
indifferently performed. The thinker reflects strenuously without
intermission, and he who would be a thinker must needs act
thus. To contend, therefore, that thought is only requisite at
certain defined critical moments in an enquiry, is to display
inadequate insight into the complexity of phenomena or into
the procedure of successful men of science. Novel facts may
present themselves at any moment, and old facts may appear
in a new light when a concentrated mind observes them. Every
situation or problem we are confronted with ought to call out
our best energies of thought. There are no indifferent details,
no automatic parts, one might say, in a scientific enquiry, any
more than in an up-to-date business transaction or in true art.
It is probably a grave misapprehension to assume that the
thinker need exercise no effort as a rule, and that he need
only think at intervals. In all affairs of life the contrary is
-true, and the more strenuous, and continuously strenuous, we
are, the more our powers will develop, whilst habitual absence
of strenuoushess will reduce our capacities to negligibility. It
is likewise 'an error to suppose that mental effort is exhausting
or impossible to the average mind; for, most probably, the
normal individual may become, through practice, accustomed
to hard mental as to hard physical exertion, the harder the
more intelligently and the more ceaselessly he practises.

Our conclusion is, then, that it is the distinguishing mark of
a properly conducted scientific enquiry that in all its phases
habitual alertness and unremitting concentration are exhibited.

SECTION 22— OBSERVATION.' 313

CONCLUSION 22.

Need ol Collecting the Largest Number of Leading Facts and
Ascertaining the Unlike as well as the Like.

§ 155. (A) ABUNDANCE OF LEADING FACTS.— Out of
the multitude of methodological Conclusions it would be diffi-
cult to select many which are more gravely sinned against
than the present one, and with such dire consequences. For
this reason, we encounter references to such a need in several
of the Conclusions. It is the besetting fault of the average
thinker of to-day to assume that the one or few facts which
he professes to have discovered, are all the facts relevant to
the issue.1 Thus the student of methodology has repeatedly
occasion to observe that whole systems of thought are grounded
on some few, out of a vast number, of relevant facts. Instead
of patiently collecting all that is material to a subject, the
majority of investigators shout Eureka! when they are only
at the threshold of their preliminary examination. And to
aggravate matters, it is common for one investigator with a
handful of facts to oppose another who is equally placed, on
the assumption that the two handfuls are necessarily irrecon-
cilable and that one of the handfuls comprises all the needful
data. Naturally, therefore, those inquirers who regard their
task as completed when it is scarcely begun, contribute very
little to intellectual progress, and hence it happens that advance
is drearily slow and proceeds by an interminable series of
corrections of older views until at last, in zigzag fashion, the
comprehensive truth is reached. Such a mode of progression
is assuredly as wasteful as it is questionable.

The inquirer should accordingly assume that only a prolonged
investigation yielding an extensive number of material facts
justifies any important or definite conclusions. For example,
the present author might have been satisfied with two or three
of the items in the heading of Conclusion 25. Instead, he did
not cease for many years to attempt to add to the list of
qualifications, and he has no doubt that additions of equal and
greater importance to those quoted are possible. Similarly,
with the sub-points in Conclusions 19 and 20, or with the number
of the Conclusions, or indeed with the general text of the Con-
clusions. Everywhere where it is not a question of direct observa-
tion, of generalising, or of more or less manifest relations, as
in Conclusions 27 and 28, nothing remains but persistently to sup-
plement material details and resolutely to dismiss the idea of
finality. If these details can be afterwards welded together and
augmented by a process of generalisation or deduction, this is
a matter for felicitation, but separate important facts apposite

1 "That fashion of taking few things into account, and pronouncing with
reference to a few things, has been the ruin of everything." (Bacon,
Parasceve.)

314

PART V.— WORKING STAGE.

to any investigation should never be hypothetically supposed
to be scanty in number or non-existent, because they are diffi-
cult to procure. For example, Lavoisier imagined that organic
compounds were combinations of carbon, hydrogen, and oxygen.
Experiment has added to these in the course of time not only
nitrogen, but about a dozen other elements.

Another instance. How far can we legitimately speak of
common interests between nations? We might notice the
outstanding case of the imposing national imports and exports,
and rest satisfied therewith. Or we might add to this emigra-
tion and immigration statistics and the legions of individuals
travelling in search of enjoyment, health, study, and profit.
Pressing on, we might with advantage refer to the hundreds
of international associations and their congresses as well as to
the internationalisation of the sciences and the arts. If, however,
we aspire to a truly adequate conception of common interests
between nations, we should, according to Conclusion 25 /, run
systematically through the physical, biological, and cultural
sciences, together with the arts, crafts, and customs, as epito-
mised, for instance, in Conclusion 33. The haphazard selection
of one or a few unconnected particulars must be eschewed at
all costs.

Here is a further example. In reconstructing industrial pro-
cesses along scientific lines, attention was initially focused on
the most prominent factors — elimination of unnecessary move-
ments, of slowness, and of sensible fatigue. If, however, we
desire to be veritably comprehensive, we commence at the
beginning — intention to perform a task, willing it, sensing
material constituents or recollecting mental ones, studying simpli-
fication, rapidity, pauselessness, energy, and fatiguelessness of
movements, allowing for thought, volition, and feeling through-
out, and enumerating completely the principal external factors
influencing the quantity and the quality of the output — as found
in Conclusion 10 — and continuing thus right to the end. Only
in this manner can we ascertain whether some valuable con-
stituent .has not been overlooked. Moreover, there is no suffi-
cient methodological reason, apart from the absence of a me-
thodology, why the systematic enumeration of factors should
not have been undertaken at the very inception of the scientific
efficiency movement.

Similarly, with the general problem of dietetics. Instead of
fastening on one or a few important aspects, there should be
an endeavour to collect all that is relevant and of moment.
Such aspects might be considered to be (a) food containing
the necessary nutritive ingredients (including vitamines) for
ensuring and maintaining robust health; (b) such food as is
most easily digested and most fully absorbed; (c) clean and
well prepared food cleanly served; (rf) keeping close to the
minimum required for sound health and arranging for the

SECTION 22. - OBSER VA TION. 315

largest suitable breaks between meals; (e) studied, but appro-
ximately minimal, variety at each principal meal and otherwise
and at different seasons; (/) proper mastication, no hurried
eating, and some rest after meals; (g) eating with pleasure;
(/?) good teeth; (/) allowance for physiological idiosyncrasies;
(y) proper feeding from infancy ; and (k) obedience to the other
principal demands of hygiene, more especially pure air all day
long, including good ventilation by day and night; sufficient
but not excessive mental and physical exercise ; adequate sleep
during the night; protection from extremes of cold and heat;
no dissipation; no intoxicants, narcotics, etc., affecting the
organism deleteriously ; avoidance of disease from infancy ;
no profound anxieties; and a cheerful temperament. Once a
fairly exhaustive statement is arrived at, the different classes
of facts can be evaluated, considered one in relation to the
other, a comprehensive statement formulated, generalisations
and deductions made, and further dietetic studies commenced
on that basis.

Likewise, the agriculturist will study the local climate, the
local soil, the plants and varieties best suited for the local soil,
the best manures, questions of drainage and irrigation, agri-
cultural machinery, efficient labour supply, local and distant
markets and their requirements, costs, and much else.

Lastly, instead of seeking to explain the economic crisis
following on the war by one or two causes, we should be well
advised to draw up an exhaustive list of the alleged influences,
assume that a large number of them are of vital importance,
and that the forces adduced act and react on one another.
Here is such a list, startlingly formidable in character, which
could be, however, reduced by classification (as, e.g., deficiency
in commodities and workers due to the war, etc.): —

Lack of coal, raw materials, transport, machinery, commodities generally,
and foodstuffs; lack of capital (including watering of capital); lack of
credit intra-nationally and inter-nationally; lack of markets (due to
blockade, adverse exchange, poverty, etc.); exhaustion of stocks during
war-time; destruction of coal mines and of much other property; dis-
location and disorganisation through changes of boundaries; new fron-
tiers interfering seriously with railway systems of transport; customs
barriers; serious discriminations against certain classes of imports; worn-
out plants; readaptation of commerce and industry to peace conditions;
government restrictions on trade; disorganised exchanges preventing ready
interchange of goods (low exchange prevents buying and high exchange
selling); excessive speculation as regards commodities and in floating
companies; inflated and depreciated currency; continued large expenditure
on war forces and large government expenditure genei-ally; extravagance
in living and little saving; enormous burden of public debt and heavy
expenditure on pensions; heavy and excessive taxation crippling and
discouraging industry; high wages and high cost of living; rise in prices,
and driving up and keeping up of prices; wholesalers, retailers, and con-
sumers waiting for lower prices before buying; profiteering; fear of
repudiation of liabilities by firms and nations; lack, or presence, of a
gold basis; wars and fears of wars; blockade of Russia; non-declaration
of reparation amount to be asked from Germany; withholding of stocks

316 PART V.— WORKING STAGE.

from the market and of credits by banks; governmental absorption of
bank credits; over-production; ca' canny; eight hour day; millions of
people killed in war and by influenza epidemic; lower vitality of workers
generally, owing to malnutrition and want generally; large masses of
totally and partially disabled; large numbers nervously and physically
injured during the war without being "disabled"; lower proportion of
the physically fit, through the physically unfit having been rejected by
the recruiting officers; decrease in the proportion of skilled workers and
managers, and decrease in skill through the diminution of apprenticeship
and technical classes during the war; decrease in intelligence through
inferior education or no education during the war; many more widows
with children and many more children proportionately; smaller total
population, more especially in respect of workers (there being proportion-
ately many more "families" without wage earners than before the war);
younger workers (between 20 and 30) reduced in excessive proportion;
general and deep dissatisfaction of workers, leading to negative interest
in work and to consequent reduced output; uncertainty among manufac-
turers and merchants, leading to decrease of enterprise; and exploitation
by certain countries of the necessities of other countries.

§ 156. (B) SEARCH FOR UNLIKE FA CTS.— Given a certain
topic of enquiry, say that of the function of government, we
commence by searching as much for unlike facts and generalisa-
tions as for like ones. Our only concern is to exhaust all the
material facts, partly because such knowledge may aid us later
in obtaining generalisations by the detection of certain under-
lying intrinsic similarities in different classes of facts, and
partly because it is, in any case, desirable to be acquainted
with important facts.

In agreement with this, we require accurate and numerous
means to assist us in securing a variety of details, generalisa-
tions, and deductions. If, for instance, the sense of touch pre-
supposes immediate contact with objects, we may ask ourselves
whether the other senses also require immediate contact. Should
we discover that each sense has a separate means of coming
into contact with reality, this would equally constitute a positive
result. Or if we apply Conclusion 28, and obtain as regards
related classes of facts contrary or contradictory results, these
also may claim to possess positive value. Or we can utilise
the method of contrast. If certain factors actively assist a
process, we may seek for such as actively impede it. Or if
we find one means employed in one connection, we may look
for different means in this and in disparate connections. Or,
to take a specific example, if we find beef-fat to contain fat-
soluble A, we should be prepared to discover that lard is
devoid of it. In other words, we apply Conclusions 27 and 28,
and whatever other apposite Conclusions we have reached, not
only to abstract higher generalities, but sheer differences. The
first step, therefore, in every portion of an investigation— ob-
serving, generalising, deducing—must be to reacH the utmost
variety within a given unity, and the second step should be
to prove the existence of the greatest unity within the given
variety.

SECTION 22 —OBSERVATION. 317

CONCLUSION 23.

Need of Exhausting Classes of Facts, their Conditions, and the
Uniformities accompanying them.

§ 157. (A) EXHAUSTING CLASSES OF FACTS.-ln his
famous example of the investigation of heat, Bacon plainly
implies that classes of facts should be exhausted where prac-
ticable, and in connection with the problem of effective obser-
vation scientific methodology demands that the enquiry should
proceed till no new classes of relevant and material facts can
be found. With Prof. Karl Pearson we should cease to look,
initially, for one principal factor only, • and examine all possible
factors, and with Prof. Schuster we should inspect all possible
freouencies.

§158. (B) EXHAUSTING CONDITIONS.— The conditions
should be also exhausted. We should endeavour to examine
all the conditions that we can possibly discover or utilise, and
we need to be searching for new classes of conditions long
after the first or second success or failure to discover any.

§ 159. (C) ACCOMPANYING UNIFORMITIES— We should
ceaselessly aim at ascertaining accompanying uniformities. That
earthquakes proceed along earth fissures and are specially
common and disastrous along ocean borders, mountain districts,
and around active volcanoes; that volcanoes are mostly situated
near the sea; that the daily retardation in the tides approxi-
mately equals the daily retardation of the moon, and that the
height of the tides locally is determined by sundry local factors;
that the configuration of a district regulates to some extent
the rainfall, and that its configuration is frequently determined
by its water courses; that day and night are caused respec-
tively by the presence or the absence of the sun; that the bisons
and other hoofed animals are, perhaps, related as cause and
effect to the treeless spaces which they haunt; that the preva-
lence of rats coincides with the occurrence of certain epidemics,
and that a certain relation obtains between stagnant pools and
mosquitoes, on the one hand, and open dustbins and houseflies,
on the other; that those addicted to alcohol have less power
of resistance to disease; that relatively moderate but moist
heats are far more oppressive than those of hotter but drier
localities; that the exceeding dryness of hot desert climates
causes the air to be hotter during the day and colder during
the night, as compared with more humid climates; that "the
presence of trees reduces the temperature of the atmosphere,
whilst radiation is hindered at night, that trees thus produce
the effect of equalising temperature, and, by keeping the atmo-
sphere moist, they induce the fall of rain"; that the physical
features of a district or a country (e.g., the presence of ex-
tensive coal measures) determine in no small degree its social
features; or that home education reacts on school education

318

PART V.— WORKING STAGE.

and one art on another, are some cases in point illustrating
the need of allowing for concomitant uniformities. (See also
§ 139.) Diverse anomalies in astronomical data have thus been
removed by the assumption and subsequent discovery of cor-
related facts. The following passage from Darwin (Origin of
Species, ch. 3) well exemplifies the need of heeding accompanying
uniformities: —

"I have found that the visits of bees are necessary for the fertilisation
of some kinds of clover; . . . [but] humble-bees alone visit the red clover,
as other bees cannot reach the nectar. . . . Hence we may infer as highly
probable that if the whole genus of humble-bees became extinct or very
rare in England, the heart's-ease and red clover would become very rare
or wholly disappear. The number of humble-bees in any district depends
in a great degree on the number of field-mice, which destroy their combs
and nests, and Col. Newman, who has long attended to the habits of
humble-bees, believes that 'more than two-thirds of them are thus
destroyed all over England'. Now the number of mice is largely dependent,
as everyone knows, on the number of cats; and Col. Newman says: 'Near
villages and small towns I have found the nests of humble-bees more
numerous than elsewhere, which I attribute to the number of cats that
destroy the mice.' Hence it is quite credible that the presence of a feline
animal in large numbers in a district might determine, through the inter-
vention first of mice, and then of bees, the frequency of certain flowers
in that district."

The more fundamental accompanying uniformities should,
however, receive our first attention. An ordinary plant, for
instance, depends on the relative compactness, and on the in-
gredients, of the soil; on sunshine; on the surrounding warmth,
especially at certain seasons; on the oxygen and the carbonic
acid of the atmosphere; on the visits of fertilising insects and,
perhaps, on other plants and animals; on nitrifying bacteria; etc.
Animals also cannot live without free oxygen in their environ-
ment, a certain degree of surrounding warmth, and light, food,
freedom of movement, and other external factors. And what
is true of classes of living beings of a higher or a lower
category, is true in regard to individuals and their component
parts.

Moreover, the most fundamental accompanying uniformities
require to be pondered over from time to time. It is manifest
that if we imagine the degree of heat to be sufficiently raised
generally, all solids and liquids will turn into gases, and the
chemical elements will be decomposed into some simpler form
of matter, whilst if we conceive the degree of heat to be
sufficiently lowered generally, all gases and liquids will turn
into solids, and life and chemical changes would cease. In
this connection it is well to take, periodically, a long view,
casting our glances forwards and backwards into the eternities
in connection with any given subject. Similarly a grave
disturbance in the amicable relations between our globe and
the sun, or a lapse from "neutrality" on the part of one of
the nearest stars, would be of momentous consequence to

SECTION 22.—OBSER VA TION. 31 9

everything on the earth. Thus, ta'king a very comprehensive
relativist view, Einstein questions the absolutist conception
of space and time, and deduces from gravitational influences
the curvature of light rays and of spectra reaching us from
distant stars.

CONCLUSION 24.

Need of a Critical Attitude, of Provisional Treatment, and of
Repeated Testing, throughout the Process of Enquiry.

§160. (A) CRITICAL ATTITUDE.— The critical attitude
should never forsake the inquirer. However cogent his reasons
for the conclusions which he has reached, he should still cease-
lessly call everything in question. Some few observations may
be erroneous, the argument may require buttressing, or an
unsuspected fallacy may vitiate the entire solution. The as-
sumption needs to underlie his procedure that the real and
complete truth will only emerge after a repeated re-inspection
of the facts, a repeated re-testing of his conclusions, and after
having collected and collated a considerable number of truths.
Alertness, and not formal scepticism, is the attitude desiderated
here.

Much of the thinking in the past has been critical, not of
oneself but of others. Men have written voluminously to prove
that some one else's theory is defective, and have at the same
time assumed that their own point of view, conceived as the
sole alternative, is thereby recommended, if not substantiated.
They have been, in fact, as stern and unreasonable towards
others, as they have been excessively lenient and conciliatory
towards themselves. Speaking generally, any discussion or
criticism of others should be incidental, and in such discussion
or criticism there needs to be full recognition of the ease of
misjudging, and the difficulty of dealing out justice to, others.
Extensive criticism is rare in the established and typical sciences,
and presupposes on the whole critical rather than scientific
acumen, since the removal of errors by criticism gives ge-
nerally place to other errors rather than to truth.

§ 161. (B) PROVISIONAL TREATMENT AND REPEATED
TESTING.— Whilst attempts within reasonable limits to exhaust
any part of a problem need to be made even in the incipient
stages, there should be the further assumption that the results
arrived at are provisional, and that we should revert frequently
to a re-examination with a view to perfecting or modifying the
conclusions. This provisional treatment renders subtlety and
speculation superfluous, and the repeated investigations, in the
light of connected examinations, are sure to alter many of the
earlier inferences.

Darwin's practice supports our contention. "Some of the
most important explanations under his theories did not occur
to him until years after he had begun their study. . . . His work

320 PART V.— WORKING STAGE.

on 'The Expression of the Emotions', began in 1838 and closed
in 1872; 'Insectivorous Plants', 1860-1876; 'Vegetable Mould and
Earthworms', 1837-1881." (Frank Cramer, op. cit., pp. 79-80.)
And his analyst reflects Darwin's attitude in the following
comments: "Nothing can be so demonstrative as the relative
permanence of work that has been done slowly and work that
has been done with promptness and apparent vigour. The latter
almost invariably takes a very subordinate place in the litera-
ture of the subject when once that subject is completely
worked out. . . . Where speed is felt to be necessary, a vast
outlay of energy is frequently required to discover what with
more time would almost come of itself. With the attention
steadily fixed, time brings to bear multitudes of facts that would
otherwise be lost." (Ibid., pp. 77-78.) And, again, epigram-
matically : "Time, as well as reason, is the handmaid of science."
(P. 80.)

Psychological and objective arguments emphasise the need
of this Sub-Conclusion. The very effort required in circum-
spect examination is fatiguing, and re-examination is therefore
expedient, whilst repeated recurrence will tend to remove sundry
objective limitations and provide an opportunity for fresh ideas
to play round the subject. We are also likely not to be ob-
sessed by fixed concepts, and to note errors that blurring
familiarity and a crowd of irrelevant and obtrusive particulars,
which will be forgotten in the course of time, screened from
us. On this account we should not proceed without appreciable
breaks in an enquiry. (Conclusion 7, last par.) Naturally, too,
some considerable period should elapse before we close an en-
quiry, in order to prevent precipitate decisions and allow ample
time for re-examination under varied conditions.

Moreover, in the interest of true scientific progress, it is in-
dispensable to apply these precautionary measures to existing
collections of knowledge, for it has not seldom occurred that
propositions said to be long and fully established are seriously
infected with error. Science does not recognise any infallibility in
its devotees, even though they may have flourished centuries ago.

§ 162. It will be useful, now that we have concluded our
study of Observation, to append a long excerpt from Darwin,
the great observer and generaliser, to illustrate in detail the
extreme need of cautious procedure:—

"Cell-making instinct of the Hive-Bee.— I will not here enter on minute

details on this subject, but will merely give an outline of the conclusions

at which I have arrived. He must be a dull man who can examine the

exquisite structure of a comb, so beautifully adapted to its end, without

ithusiastic admiration. We hear from mathematicians that bees have

ctically solved a recondite problem, and have made their cells of the

roper shape to hold the greatest possible amount of honey, with the

least possible consumption of precious wax in their construction. It has

SECTION 22.—OBSERVA TION. 321

been remarked that a skilful workman with fitting tools and measures,
would find it very difficult to make cells of wax of the true form, though
this is effected by a crowd of bees working in a dark hive. Granting
whatever instincts you please, it seems at first quite inconceivable how
they can make all the necessary angles and planes, or even perceive when
they are correctly made. But the difficulty is not nearly so great as it
at first appears : all this beautiful work can be shown, I think, to follow
from a few simple instincts.

"I was led to investigate this subject by Mr. Waterhouse, who has
shown that the form of the cell stands in close relation to the presence
of adjoining cells; and the following view may, perhaps, be considered
only as a modification of his theory. Let us look to the great principle
of gradation, and see whether Nature does not reveal to us her method
of work. At one end of a short series we have humble-bees, which use
their old cocoons to hold honey, sometimes adding to them short tubes
of wax; and likewise making separate and very irregular rounded cells
of wax. At the other end of the series we have the cells of the hive-
bee, placed in a double layer: each cell, as is well known, is an hexagonal
prism, with the basal edges of its six sides bevelled so as to join an in-
verted pyramid of three rhombs. These rhombs have certain angles, and
the three which form the pyramidal base of a single cell on one side of
the comb enter into the composition of the bases of three adjoining cells
on the opposite side. In the series between the extreme perfection of
the cells of the hive-bee and the simplicity of those of the humble-bee
we have the cells of the Mexican Melipona domestica carefully described
and figured by Pierre Huber. The Melipona itself is intermediate in struc-
ture between the hive- and humble-bee, but more nearly related to the
latter; it forms a nearly regular waxen comb of cylindrical cells, in which
the young are hatched, and, in addition, some large cells of wax for hold-
ing honey. These latter cells are nearly spherical and of nearly equal
sizes, and are aggregated into an irregular mass. But the important point
to notice is, that these cells are always made at that degree of nearness
to each other that they would have intersected or broken into each other
if the spheres had been completed ; but this is never permitted, the bees
building perfectly flat walls of wax between the spheres which thus tend
to intersect. Hence, each cell consists of an outer spherical portion, and
of two, three, or more flat surfaces, according as the cell adjoins two,
three, or more other cells. When one cell rests on three other cells,
which, from the spheres being nearly of the same size, is very frequently
and necessarily the case, the three flat surfaces are united into a pyramid ;
and this pyramid, as Huber has remarked, is manifestly a gross imitation
of the three-sided pyramidal base of the cell of the hive-bee. As in the
cells of the hive-bee, so here, the three plane surfaces in any one cell
necessarily enter into the construction of three adjoining cells. It is
obvious that the Melipona saves wax, and what is more important, labour,
by this manner of building; for the flat walls between the adjoining cells
are not double, but are of the same thickness as the outer spherical por-
tions, and yet each flat portion forms a part of two cells.

"Reflecting on this case, it occurred to me that if the Melipona had
made its spheres at some given distance from each other, and had made
them of equal sizes and had arranged them symmetrically in a double
layer, the resulting structure would have been as perfect as the comb of
the hive-bee. Accordingly I wrote to Professor Miller of Cambridge, and
this geometer has kindly read over the following statement, drawn up
from his information, and tells me that it is strictly correct: —

"If a number of equal spheres be described with their centres placed
in two parallel layers; with the centre of each sphere at the distance of

radius X j/2, or radius X 1.41421 (or at some lesser distance), from the

centres of the six surrounding spheres in the same layer ; and at the
same distance from the centres of the adjoining spheres in the other and

21

322

PART V- WORKING STAGE.

parallel layer • then, if planes of intersection between the several spheres
in both layers be formed, there will result a double layer of hexagonal
prisms united together by pyramidal bases formed of three rhombs;
and the rhombs and the sides of the hexagonal prisms will have every
angle identically the same with the best measurements which have been
made of the cells of the hive-bee. But I hear from Prof. Wyman, who
has made numerous careful measurements, that the accuracy of the
workmanship of the bee has been greatly exaggerated; so much so,
that, whatever the typical form of the cell may be, it is rarely, if ever,
realised.

"Hence we may safely conclude that, if we could slightly modify the
instincts already possessed by the Melipona, and in themselves not very
wonderful, this bee would make a structure as wonderfully perfect as
that of the hive-bee. We must suppose the Melipona to have the power
of forming her cells truly spherical, and of equal sizes; and this would
not be very surprising, seeing that she already does so to a certain ex-
tent, and seeing what perfectly cylindrical burrows many insects make
in wood, apparently by turning round on a fixed point. We must suppose
the Melipona to arrange her cells in level layers, as she already does her
cylindrical cells; and we must further suppose, and this is the greatest
difficulty, that she can somehow judge accurately at what distance to
stand from her fellow-labourers when several are making their spheres;
but she is already so far enabled to judge of distance that she always
describes her spheres so as to intersect to a certain extent, and then she
unites the points of intersection by perfectly flat surfaces. By such modi-
fications of instincts which in themselves are not very wonderful — hardly
more wonderful than those which guide a bird to make its nest— I be-
lieve that the hive-bee has acquired, through natural selection, her in-
imitable architectural powers.

"But this theory can be tested by experiment. Following the example
of Mr. Tegetmeier, I separated two combs and put between them a long,
thick, rectangular strip of wax: the bees instantly began to excavate minute
circular pits in it; and as they deepened these little pits, they made them
wider and wider until they were converted into shallow basins, appearing
to the eye perfectly true or parts of a sphere, and of about the diameter
of a cell. It was most interesting to observe that wherever several bees
had begun to excavate these basins near together, they had begun their
work at such a distance from each other, that by the time the basins had
acquired the above stated width (i.e., about the width of an ordinary cell),
and were in depth about one sixth of the diameter of the sphere of which
they formed a part, the rims of the basins intersected or broke into each
other. As soon as this occurred, the bees ceased to excavate, and began
to build up flat walls of wax on the lines of intersection between the
basins, so that each hexagonal prism was built upon the scalloped edge of
a smooth basin, instead of on the straight edges of a three-sided pyramid
as in the case of ordinary cells.

"I then put into the hive, instead of a thick, rectangular piece of wax,
a thin and narrow, knife-edged ridge, coloured with vermilion. The bees
instantly began on both sides to excavate little basins near to each other,
in the same way as before; but the ridge of wax was so thin, that the
bottoms of the basins, if they had been excavated to the same depth as
in the former experiment, would have broken into each other from the
opposite sides. The bees, however, did not suffer this to happen, and they
stopped their excavations in due time; so that the basins, as soon as they
had been a little deepened, came to have flat bases; and these flat bases,
formed by thin little plates of the vermilion wax leftungnawed, were situated,
as far as the eye could judge, exactly along the planes of imaginary inter-
section between the basins on the opposite sides of the ridge of wax.
In some parts, only small portions, in other parts, large portions of a
rhombic plate were thus left between the opposed basins, but the work,
from the unnatural state of things, had not been neatly performed. The

SECTION 22— OBSERVATION. 323

bees must have worked at very nearly the same rate in circularly gnawing
away and deepening the basins on both sides of the ridge of vermilion
wax, in order to have thus succeeded in leaving flat plates between the
basins, by stopping work at the planes of intersection.

"Considering how flexible thin wax is, I do not see that there is any
difficulty in the bees, whilst at work on the two sides of a strip of wax,
perceiving when they have gnawed the wax away to the proper thinness,
and then stopping their work. In ordinary combs it has appeared to me
that the bees do not always succeed in working at exactly the same rate
from the opposite sides; for I have noticed half-completed rhombs at the
base of a just-commenced cell, which were slightly concave on one side,
where I suppose that the bees had excavated too quickly, and convex on
the opposite side where the bees had worked less quickly. In one well
marked instance, I put the comb back into the hive, and allowed the
bees to go on working for a short time, and again examined the cell,
and I found that the rhombic plate had been completed, and had become
perfectly flat: it was absolutely impossible, from the extreme thinness
of the little plate, that they could have effected this by gnawing away
the convex side; and I suspect that the bees in such cases stand on
opposite sides and push and bend the ductile and warm wax (which, as
I have tried, is easily done) into its proper intermediate plane, and thus
flatten it.

"From the experiment of the ridge of vermilion wax we can see that,
if the bees were to build for themselves a thin wall of wax, they could
make their cells of the proper shape, by standing at the proper distance
from each other, by excavating at the same rate, and by endeavouring
to make equal spherical hollows, but never allowing the spheres to break
into each other. Now bees, as may be clearly seen by examining the
edge of a growing comb, do make a rough, circumferential wall or rim
all round the comb ; and they gnaw this away from the opposite sides,
always working circularly as they deepen each cell. They do not make
the whole three-sided pyramidal base of any one cell at the same time,
but only that one rhombic plate which stands on the extreme growing
margin, or the two plates, as the case may be; and they never complete
the upper edges of the rhombic plates, until the hexagonal walls are
commenced. Some of these statements differ from those made by the
justly celebrated elder Huber, but I am convinced of their accuracy;
and if I had space, I could show that they are conformable with my
theory.

"Huber's statement, that the very first cell is excavated out of a little
parallel-sided wall of wax, is not, as far as I have seen, strictly correct;
the first commencement having always been a little hood of wax; but I
will not here enter on details. We see how important a part excavation
plays in the construction of the cells; but it would be a great error to
suppose that the bees cannot build up a rough wall of wax in the proper
position — that is, along the plane of intersection between two adjoining
spheres. I have several specimens showing clearly that they can do this.
Even in the rude circumferential rim or wall of wax round a growing
comb, flexures may sometimes be observed, corresponding in position to
the planes of the rhombic basal plates of future cells. But the rough wall
of wax has in every case to be finished off, by being largely gnawed away
on both sides. The manner in which the bees build is curious; they
always make the first rough wall from ten to twenty times thicker than
the excessively thin finished wall of the cell, which will ultimately be
left. We shall understand how they work, by supposing masons first to
pile up a broad ridge of cement, and then to begin cutting it away equally
on both sides near the ground, till a smooth, very thin wall is left in
the middle; the masons always piling up the cut-away cement, and adding
fresh cement on the summit of the ridge. We shall thus have a thin wall
steadily growing upward, but always crowned by a gigantic coping. From
all the cells, both those just commenced and those completed, being thus

21*

324 PART V.— WORKING STAGE.

crowned by a strong coping of wax, the bees can cluster and crawl over
the comb without injuring the delicate hexagonal walls. These walls, as
Professor Miller has kindly ascertained for me, vary greatly in thickness ;
being, on an average of twelve measurements made near the border of
the comb, -^ of an inch in thickness ; whereas the basal rhomboidal plates
are thicker, nearly in the proportion of three to two, having a mean thick-
ness, from twenty-one measurements, of 229- of an inch. By the above
singular manner of building, strength is continually given to the comb,
with the utmost ultimate economy of wax.

"It seems at first to add to the difficulty of understanding how the
cells are made, that a multitude of bees all work together ; one bee after
working a short time at one cell going to another, so that, as Huber has
stated, a score of individuals work even at the commencement of the first
cell. I was able practically to show this fact, by covering the edges of
the hexagonal walls of a single cell, or the extreme margin of the circum-
ferential rim of growing comb, with an extremely thin layer of melted
vermilion wax; and I invariably found that the colour was most delicately
diffused by the bees — as delicately as a painter could have done it with
his brush— by atoms of the coloured wax having been taken from the
spot on which it had been placed, and worked into the growing edges of
the cells all round. The work of construction seems to be a sort of balance
struck between many bees, all instinctively standing at the same relative
distance from each other, all trying to sweep equal spheres, and then
building up, or leaving ungnawed, the planes of intersection between these
spheres. It was really curious to note in cases of difficulty, as when two
pieces of comb met at an angle, how often the bees would pull down and
rebuild in different ways the same cell, sometimes recurring to a shape
which they had at first rejected.

"When bees have a place on which they can stand in their proper
positions for working, — for instance, on a slip of wood, placed directly
under the middle of a comb growing downwards, so that the comb has
to be built over one face of the slip — in this case the bees can lay the
foundations of one wall of a new hexagon, in its strictly proper place,
projecting beyond the other completed cells. It suffices that the bees
should be enabled to stand at their proper relative distances from each
other and from the walls of the%last completed cells, and then, by striking
imaginary spheres, they can build up a wall intermediate between two
adjoining spheres; but, as far as I have seen, they never gnaw away and
finish off the angles of a cell till a large part both of that cell and of
the adjoining cells has been buijt. This capacity in bees of laying down
under certain circumstances a rough wall in its proper place between
two just commenced cells, is important, as it bears on a fact, which seems
at first subversive of the foregoing theory; namely, that the cells on the
extreme margin of wasp-combs are sometimes strictly hexagonal ; but I
have not space here to enter on this subject. Nor does there seem to
me any great difficulty in a single insect (as in the case of a queen-wasp)
making hexagonal cells, if she were to work alternately on the inside
and outside of two or three cells commenced at the same time, always
standing at the proper relative distance from the parts of the cells just
begun, sweeping spheres or cylinders, and building up intermediate
planes.

"As natural selection acts only by the accumulation of slight modifica-
tions of structure or instinct, each profitable to the individual under its
conditions of life, it may reasonably be asked, how a long and graduated
succession of modified architectural instingts, all tending towards the pre-
sent perfect plan of construction, could have profited the progenitors of
the hive-bee? I think the answer is not difficult: cells constructed like
those of the bee or the wasp gain in strength, and save much in labour
and space, and in the materials of which they are constructed. With

SECTION 22.— OBSERVATION. 325

respect to the formation of wax, it is known that bees are often hard
pressed to get sufficient nectar, and I am informed by Mr. Tegetmeier that
it has been experimentally proved that from twelve to fifteen pounds of
dry sugar are consumed by a hive of bees for the secretion of a pound
of wax; so that a prodigious quantity of fluid nectar must be collected
and consumed by the bees in a hive for the secretion of the wax neces-
sary for the construction of their combs. Moreover, many bees have to
remain idle for many days during the process of secretion. A large store
of honey is indispensable to support a large stock of bees during the
winter; and the security of the hive is known mainly to depend on a
large number of bees being supported. Hence the saving of wax by largely
saving honey, and the time consumed in collecting the hone^y, must be
an important element of success to any family of bees. Of course, the
success of the species may be dependent on the number of its enemies,
or parasites, or on quite distinct causes, and so be altogether independent
of the quantity of honey which the bees can collect. But let us suppose
that this latter circumstance determined, as it probably often has deter-
mined, whether a bee allied to our humble-bees could exist in large
numbers in any country ; and let us further suppose that the community
lived through the winter, and consequently required a store of honey;
there can, in this case, be no doubt that it would be an advantage to
our imaginary humble-bee, if a slight modification of her instinct led her
to make her waxen cells near together, so as to intersect a little; for a
wall in common even to -two adjoining cells would save some little labour
and wax. Hence it would continually be more and more advantageous
to our humble-bees, if they were to make their cells more and more
regular, nearer together, and aggregated into a mass, like the cells of the
Melipona; for in this case a large part of the bounding surface of each
cell would serve to bound the adjoining cells, and much labour and wax
would be saved. Again, 'from -the same cause, it would be advantageous
to the Melipona, if she were to make her cells closer together, and more
regular in every way than at present; for then, as we have seen, the
spherical surfaces would wholly disappear and be replaced by plane
surfaces ; and the Melipona would make a comb as perfect as that of
the hive-bee. Beyond this stage of perfection in architecture, natural
selection could not lead ; for the comb of the hive-bee, as far as we can
see, is absolutely perfect in economising labour 'and wax.

"Thus, as I believe, the most wonderful of all known instincts, that
of the hive-bee, can be explained by natural selection having taken
advantage of numerous, successive, slight modifications of simpler instincts,
natural selection having, by slow degrees, more and more perfectly led
the bees to sweep equal spheres at a given distance from each other in
a doublB layer, and to build up and excavate the wax along the planes of
intersection; the bees, of course, no more knowing that they swept their
spheres at one particular distance from each other, than they know what
are the several angles of the hexagonal prisms and of the basal rhombic
plates ; the motive power of the process of natural selection having been
the construction of cells of due strength and of the proper size and shape
for the larva?, this being effected with the greatest possible economy
of labour and wax; that individual swarm which thus made the best
cells with least labour, and least waste of honey in the secretion of wax,
having succeeded best, and having transmitted their newly acquired
economical instincts to new swarms, which in their turn will have had
the best chance of succeeding in the struggle for existence." (The Origin
of Species, final edition, chapter 8.)

326 PART V.— WORKING STAGE.

SECTION XXIIL— GENERALISATION.

CONCLUSION 25.

Need of Strenuous Mental Application in the Process of Generali-
sation, and need of the Generalisations being Graded, Com-
prehensive, Important, Numerous, Full, Rational and Relevant,
Original, Automatically Initiated, and Methodically Developed.

§ 163. Guided by Conclusion 20, we examine (1) the pre-
liminaries (Conclusions 1-13); we begin then (2) to determine
as precisely as possible the nature of the problem io be in-
vestigated (Conclusions 14-15); and (3) commence our observa-
tions (Conclusions 16-24). Having accomplished this, we embark
on the process of (4) generalisation. Just as we cautiously pass
from this fact as apprehended at this moment to the fact, so
we pass from the fact to the class which comprehends all most
closely resembling facts, and thence to remoter resemblances
and more extensive classes. By fact we mean, of course, any
and every kind of static and dynamic fact — physical, vital, and
cultural.

§ 164. (a) INTENSE CONCENTRATION.— In generalising,
as in observing and deducing, we need intently and continuously
to concentrate all our faculties and to shun both over-confidence
and over-anxiety. (See § 154.)

§ 165. (b) GRADED GENERALISATIONS.— The principles
of prudence applied to observation equally apply to what is
ordinarily termed generalisation. The formation of large generali-
sations based on slender data is hence as unjustifiable as state-
ments concerning individual facts based on scanty evidence.
Generalisations should be therefore graded, and investigators
should cautiously feel their way from class to class, seeing
that many generations of thinkers are frequently required for
developing a truly comprehensive and sound generalisation, as
is illustrated, for instance, by the evolution of astronomical
theory from Ptolemy to Copernicus and from Copernicus to
Laplace. In generalising, then, we should gradually pass from
closer to remoter resemblances, as from the falling of heavier
substances to the falling of lighter substances, to the falling of
the moon and the earth, and thence, progressively, to the
framing of the universal law of gravitation, forming in this
manner ever more extensive classes of facts. "The safest course,
when it can be followed, is to rise by inductions carried on
among laws, as among facts, from law to law; perceiving, as
k we go on, how laws which we have looked upon as unconnected
become particular cases, either one of the other, or all of one
still more general, and, at length, blend altogether in the point
of view from which we learn to regard them." (Sir John
Herschel, Discourse, [217.].)

Where, as in the example which follows, the more general
facts are established, it is of incalculable advantage to rise from

SECTION 23.— GENERALISATION. 327

law to law until we reach the pinnacle. Frequently, however,
the facts are represented by a heterogeneous mass which can
only be slowly reduced to order and understood. In such in-
stances we pursue our researches until some slight semblance
of order is created in part of the mass, and we finally resolve
on exploring as exhaustively as practicable one or another
direction suggested by the preliminary conclusions reached.
Here, obviously, there can be no rising from law to law, since
the value, or even the correctness, of the conclusions reached
is undetermined, since our most heroic endeavours will probably
yield only modest fruits, and since the discovery of a com-
prehensive law is, in the circumstances, a counsel of perfection.
For this reason we relegate the grading of generalisations to
the conclusion of the enquiry, and are content that our most
comprehensive generalisation should be a comparatively restricted
one. Accordingly, the scientific pioneer must toilsomely wrest
truths from nature wherever he can, without being truly cognisant
of their value, whereas, with the advance of science, it becomes
gradually easier to take advantage of established classifications
and proceed at a perceptible pace in a forward or upward
direction. To rise from law to law is therefore only practicable
when we are already familiar with many verified generalisations.

It will be well to define as precisely as possible the process
of graded generalising. Finding, for example, that consequent
on the application of pressure some hydrogen gas occupies less
space, I carefully ascertain the relation of pressure to density
in the sample at different times, and think I perceive that its
density is directly proportional to the pressure to which it is
subjected, that is, if the pressure be doubled, its volume is
halved, and when the pressure is halved, its volume is doubled.
I formulate then, after sundry experiments, the hypothesis that
hydrogen always behaves in this manner; but ascertain, on
closer investigation, that allowance needs to be made for tem-
perature, very high pressure, and so forth. This we might
term a simple generalisation : reasoning from a given fact at a
given time to the class to which it appertains.

I advance now a step further. I experiment whether the
gas nearest to hydrogen in specific gravity reacts in a similar
way to pressure and removal of pressure, and observe identity
of effect. I inspect then a few samples of gases of greater
and greater specific gravity, and tentatively conclude that the
volume of a sample of any gas normally varies inversely with
the pressure thereon. I test this conclusion repeatedly, applying
it perhaps to every gas I can procure, studious of including
the largest variety of gases, and recording the conditions under
which I obtain the results. I feel now warranted in converting
the simple generalisation into a compound generalisation, and
assert that the volume of any gas varies inversely with the
amount of pressure to which it is subjected. (Boyle's law.)

328 PART V.— WORKING STAGE.

It was natural to extend from (1) a sample of hydrogen at
a particular time to (2) that same sample at other times; from
this again to (3) other samples and (4) to the particular gas in
general. It was equally natural to extend the observation to
(5) some other gases less and less closely related to hydrogen,
and then (6) to all gases. Now since there are three states of
matter— gaseous, liquid, and solid (including viscous), it is also
feasible to extend the generalisation tentatively to (7) some
liquid, then (8) to more liquids, thence (9) to all liquids, and
supposing that we ascertained that Boyle's law held good of all
liquids, we might, finally, extend the conclusion to (10) the
lightest solid body, (11) to a number of solid bodies more and
more heavy, and (12) to all solid bodies. I should then, granting
that the above-mentioned law also held good of all solids, state
the most general and universal law, namely, that the volume
of any given substance at any given temperature is inversely
proportional to the pressure to which it is subjected. This we
might name a universal generalisation.

However, as a matter of fact, Boyle's law1 applies neither
to liquids nor to solids, and therefore we should be compelled
to rest content with the more restricted compass of our gene-
ralisation, and even be obliged to allow for deviations assumed
to be .due to the attraction of the molecules for each other and
to the volume occupied by the molecules.2 Of course, had the
question been the problem of the indestructibility or the gravi-
tational force of matter, we should have been in a position to
extend the first intimation derived from the study of the sample
of one body which proved indestructible or affected the scales,
to all matter — gaseous, liquid, and solid.

However, as in the science which deals with religious pheno-
mena, and in other new and intricate sciences, trustworthy
classifications may as yet not exist. In such an instance they
have to be created, and here the obstacles in the way of gene-
ralising may be most formidable. Or, what may be as bad
nearly, classifications may exist in abundance, as in proverbs
or in astrology, and these classifications may be unscientific
and misleading. In such circumstances the whole ground has
to be mapped out afresh, and the investigator needs to make
accurate studies of groups of facts, alertly seeking for significant
data and for multitudes of conclusions which should by degrees
enable him to formulate a classificatory scheme.

"Boyle himself only proved his law in the case of atmospheric' air; but
the observation was subsequently (1676) generalised by Marriotte." (Thorpe,
op. cit., vol. 1, p. 139.)

"Bodies which can support a longitudinal pressure however small, without
eing supported by a lateral pressure, are called solids. A liquid differs
essentially from a solid in being destitute of the power of sustaining pressure
unless it is supported laterally in every direction. The distinguishing feature
of a gas is that of indefinite expansion." (A. H. Hiorns, Principles of Metal-
lurgy, 1914, p. 8.)

SECTION 23.— GENERALISATION. 329

§ 166. (c) COMPREHENSIVE GENERALISATIONS.— The
desire to understand the world turns men away from particular
facts, for they feel that the number of these is so multitudinous
that it is humanly impossible to collect, remember, or understand
them. Unfortunately, men have not advanced a short distance
beyond and insisted that trifling generalisations are scarcely
distinguishable from particular facts, and that a vast array of
unconnected generalisations and relations tends to confuse rather
than to enlighten. Countless modern experiments, and especially
observations connected with the mental and social sciences,
illustrate this inference. For the future, therefore, all narrow
generalisations which are not intended to fit into a larger
scheme already formulated, should be esteemed as trivial and
suspect, unless it is quite impracticable to reach extended
generalisations. Probably the greatness of great men has mainly
consisted in doing what the average of investigators would also
have effected if it were generally recognised that the purpose
of a scientific enquiry is to reach sweeping generalisations.1
Not only, therefore, are graded generalisations necessary, but
the constant endeavour should be to attain to the broadest
possible generalisations, and this has become increasingly
possible through the accumulation of scientific facts and con-
clusions. If this be conceded, it follows that the present practice,
of individuals engaging in a large number of relatively restricted
and unconnected investigations requiring no wide outlook,
should be replaced, now that science is sufficiently advanced
to permit this, by their undertaking, as a rule, one or two
investigations covering extensive ground and occupying them
for practically a life-time.2

If it were merely a question of piecing together a great
number of petty generalisations into an imposing mosaic, no

1 "Then, and then only, may we hope well of the sciences, when in a
just scale of ascent, and by successive steps not interrupted or broken, we
rise from particulars to lesser axioms; and then to middle axioms, one above
the other; and last of all to the most general." (Bacon, Novum Organum,
bk. 1, 104.) It is not improbable that training would transform all investi-
gators into expert generalises.

2 "A. Comte signalait deja les inconvenients de la division du travail dans
1'ordre intellectuel. La specialisation a outrance dans le domaine scientifique
fait perdre au savant 1'habitude de la generalisation; en se cantonnant dans
sa petite sphere, il est prive de tout contact avec les autres spheres qui lui
deviennent de plus en plus etrangeres. Sans doute il augmentera plus
facilement, dans sa sphere, le nombre des connaissances precises. Mais la
science ne progresse pas seulement par 1'accumulation des petites decouvertes
eparses; c'est aussi et surtout a la coordination, a la synthese de toutes
ces verites isole'es qu'il importe d'apporter ses efforts; la science risque
de s'emietter en une multitude de petites sp^cialites si elle manque d'archi-
tectes, de tetes encyclopediques, d'esprits synthetiques pour rassembler, pour
coordonner les connaissances innombrables que les ouvriers de la pensee
ont accumulees de. toutes parts." (Paul Caullet, op. cit., p. 299.) The contrast
between the architects and the labourers seems a little strained, since in
science either the architects are simultaneously labourers and the labourers
architects or their work is of questionable value.

330 PART V- WORKING STAGE.

harm would ensue ; but almost invariably daylight only emerges
when we have proceeded far in an investigation, and accord-
ingly fractional generalisations, more often than not, are largely
erroneous, and cannot be profitably combined. It is of decided
consequence, therefore, that the investigator should not relax
his efforts until he has virtually reached the heart of his
subject, which is but reaffirming our suggestion that men and
women should devote virtually a life-time to solving one prob-
lem to some extent. In view of the confusion, and even
apathy and antipathy, arising from the publication of a long
series of disjointed, necessarily crude, gravely misleading, and
often contradictory essays, there would be an enormous saving
of time and effort if concentration of interest and activity on
a large scale became universal in science. From another direc-
tion, then, we reach the conclusion that the watchword for
all investigators needs to be to aim at comprehensive generali-
sations.

In matters of practice the above is admirably illustrated by
two parallel lines of enquiry conducted during the last genera-
tion. On the one hand, psychologists and physiologists have
published a considerable number of monographs bearing on
industrial efficiency and increased productivity, and relating to
such subjects as expenditure of human energy, fatigue, and the
like. The practical effect of these isolated and exceedingly
limited efforts has been virtually negligible. On the other
hand, efficientists in America, imperfectly equipped scienti-
fically, decomposed certain industrial processes into their ele-
ments and recomposed them on strictly economic lines, taking
account, of all noteworthy accompanying circumstances. Their
interest lay in the totality of the process, and their practical
success was almost instantaneous and far-reaching. The very
comprehensiveness of their enterprise saved them from innumer-
able fallacies and removed countless complexities.

Whilst extremely wide, but unexplained, generalisations fre-
quently convey little meaning to the student, and are therefore
of small value,1 it is of material importance in actual scientific
work to posit them sometimes in order to be clear as to the
final goal.

Thus, suppose we observe that comparatively hot water
issuing in a thin and weak stream from a tap feels relatively
tepid to the hand placed immediately underneath. Noting the
principle implied, we may then, without graded generalising,

"Bacon has judiciously observed that the axiomata media of every
science principally constitute its value. The lowest generalisations, until
explained by and resolved into the middle principles of which they are the
consequences, have only the imperfect accuracy of empirical laws; while
the most general laws are too general, and include too few circumstances,
to give sufficient indication of what happens in individual cases where the
circumstances are almost always immensely numerous." (Mill, Logic, bk. 6,
en. o, § 5.)

SECTION 23.-GENERALISATION. 331

strive to express the fact in the most comprehensive formula
for the specific purpose mentioned. This would be perhaps
" Wherever matters of degree (more generally stated, wherever
relations) are involved, there the influence of the degree (or
relation) should be allowed for or examined". Valuable as
such a generalisation may be for directive and future needs,
its bare statement would probably not elucidate or illuminate
the problem we strive to grasp. It would, however, compel us
to continue generalising our experience and our tentative ex-
tensions until the relevant limit to the enquiry is reached. For
instance, we should begin by fixing on the conspicuous fact
that the thinner or thicker the cylindrical stream of hot water,
the less or more shall we feel as hot the water falling on the
hand. We should, of course, provisionally and slowly gene-
ralise the word hand to any part of the body and to any
object, the word water to any substance, the word hot to any
temperature and to all the senses and all forces, until we
reached the most comprehensive generalisation.

Or, noting that a shadow is explained as a merely privative
fact — the relative absence of illumination in a relatively lighted
locality — we grope and find the widest term Obstruction under
which it can be profitably subsumed. We may then state
" Every where allow for partial or complete obstruction as a
possible explanation of a phenomenon". Here we meet with
a much obscurer statement than the preceding one— one which,
unexpanded, suggests both too little and too much. •

Or, consider the case of the notice-board analysed in § 87,
where the most comprehensive statement arrived at is virtually :
"Make a statement wherever advisable". Exceedingly helpful
as such a proposition might be for the specific object of
guidance in the active process of generalising, its bare mention
might be merely irritating or amusing, though a concrete
analysis of the variety of statements, places, and circumstances
methodically exploited might lead us back to reality. Conced-
ing, however, that extremely comprehensive statements may be
sometimes also luminous or may be concerned with a subject
many details of which are well known, such statements would
prove useful both for generalising and deductive ends. Indeed,
with the progress of knowledge, statements of this character
will become more and more intelligible and therefore more
and more valuable per se. They would constitute the most
general laws of nature and of life.

A scientific methodology would make the search for large
generalisations an invariable attribute of the scientific worker ;
unfortunately even among the vanguard of scientific thinkers
there is often a general lack of the habit of comprehensive
generalising. Why should not Sadi Carnot have definitely pro-
posed the law of the conservation of energy? Why should
not the discovery of the nature of itch have been forthwith

PART V— WORKING STAGE.

generalised to the furthest limits by learned physicians ? Why
should so many generalisations have been so slowly evolved,
and why should they have so frequently met with prolonged
and stubborn opposition? Indeed, why should not many ex-
tensive generalisations have suggested themselves earlier and
to more individuals? It is, of course, a familiar fact that in
certain cases an extraordinary accident led to a step in-advancer
and, in addition, that it is not infrequently true that full or
even partial verification is difficult. Yet if men were trained
to generalise by habit and methodically, it is not easy to resist
the conclusion that the progress of science would be materially
accelerated, and that whilst fragmentary and slipshod generali-
sations would greatly diminish, comprehensive and defensible
generalisations would not only be proposed in abundance, but
be universally welcomed and impartially examined. The re-
markable fact that large and valid generalisations have been
frequently arrived at by young scholars or by those who were
not academic teachers, argues, from this point of view, that
numerous young scholars and laymen do not permit themselves
to be imposed upon so readily by tradition as many of those
who have become professed and professional teachers. Experts.
and bureaucrats as a body are noted for their disastrous love
of routine, and science also to a certain extent suffers from its
protagonists not seldom sinking unnecessarily into deep ruts.
§167. (d) IMPORTANT GENERALISATIONS.- Sweeping
generalisations should also aim at being of the highest import
scientifically. They should, if possible, establish some general
fact which throws directly much light on a far-reaching ques-
tion and leads to countless important deductions and practical
applications. Merely for the sake of illustration we may men-
tion such widely appreciated problems for individual or collec-
tive solution as the evolution of (a) the earth, (b) the solar
system, and (c) our universe; the fundamental laws and rela-
tions of heat, light, electricity, magnetism, radiation, and chemi-
cal affinity; the nature, connection, and development of (a) the
chemical elements and compounds and (6) crystals; the con-
stitution and dynamics of the living cell, and the genesis of
life; the causes of irritability, adaptation, growth, reproduction,,
senescence, death, heredity, variation, and evolution in living
beings; the evolution of sensibility, the senses, of instincts,
and of the intelligence; the interaction and interrelations of
cells, tissues, organs, systems of organs, organisms, and neigh-
bouring groups of organisms ; the possible unity, or exact rela-
tions, of mind and matter; the distinctive characteristics of
man and of his immediate ancestry, and their explanation; the
nature, origin, and further development of (a) language, of (b) the
arts, of (c) economic processes, and of (d) the primary social
institutions; the foundations and precepts of (a) morality and
(b) aesthetics, and the effectual cultivation among human beings

SECTION 23.— GENERALISATION. 333

generally of a love of the good and the beautiful; (a) the
determination of a hygienic mode of living, and (b) the eradi-
cation of infectious diseases in children, adults, domestic animals,
and- cultivated plants; the scientific exploitation of agriculture
and of the products of the soil generally; the placing of in-
dustry, commerce, and home management, and the processes
involved in them, on a strictly scientific basis; the conservation of
natural utilities and beauties ; the relatively inexpensive supply
of an abundance of energy and its virtually complete and useful
absorption ; the full ascertainment and control of meteorological
conditions on land, sea, and air ; the causes and the prevention
of poverty; the re-organisation of (a) communities and states
and (b) governance on a truly democratic foundation; the
scientific basis, end, and methods of home, school, and vocational
education, and the effective training of teachers; the averting
of (a) floods, (b) conflagrations, (c) storms (especially at sea),
(rf) volcanic outbreaks, and (e) earthquakes; and, generally,
the systematic application of the sciences to the arts, of the
arts to the sciences, and of -both to life and men's highest
aspirations. If many of the tasks, or part tasks, 'here proposed
are naturally far too ambitious for the life-work of a solitary
individual, there is added reason why there should be extensive
collaboration, to the extent even of companies of scholars con-
certedly, or well-equipped national or international institutions,
concentrating on a problem (see Conclusion 12); and if, because
of inherent difficulties, partial success alone is obtainable, the
ideal of aiming, as a rule, at the establishment of momentous
general facts is none the less worthy of adoption.

Oh, if we draw a circle premature,

Heedless of far gain,
Greedy for quick returns of profit, sure

Bad is our bargain !

(Browning, A Grammarian's Funeral.)

On the practical side our age is already keenly alive to the
need of bold conceptions. One of the demands is for the pro-
duction at the pits' mouth of sufficient electricity to satisfy
the industrial and domestic requirements of the whole country.
Apart fronr the patent economic advantages of this scheme,
the change would mean the break-up of the ugly centres
grouped around the coal districts, the even scattering of in-
dustrial activity to every part of the land, and the laying of
the horrid smoke-fiend. With the same general- end in view
of organising and developing the power supply on a nation-
wide basis, vast hydrographic surveys are being undertaken,
which will, at least in certain countries, end in radically trans-
forming the face of industry by making it dependent on hydro-
electricity and independent of foreign fuel or of coal-mining.
So, too, there is every prospect of motor-road traffic, preceded
by roadbuilding on a stupendous scale, becoming a serious

334 PART V.— WORKING STAGE.

rival to railways and rendering equally accessible every part of
every country. Similarly, the prevention of energy waste, the
irrigation of the land (more particularly in tropical countries),
the successful combating of insect and germ pests, the scientific
re-organisation of the industrial and commercial life, and the
development of wireless telegraphy and telephony, will soon
grow into problems grappled with by mighty national and inter-
national endeavours. In fact, we may look forward to a time
when numerous problems of every type affecting countries as
a whole will be dealt with nationally and with the required
breadth of outlook. The World War began universally by the
declaration of a national moratorium which saved the financial
systems of the countries involved from collapsing, and was
carried on by every country with such comparatively great
success because of the bold statesmanship exhibited in dealing
with internal problems of a colossal magnitude.

§ 168. (e) NUMEROUS GENERALISATIONS.— It is a uni-
versal temptation in the personal affairs of life, in the various
social problems, in the biological and even the physical sciences,
to think that a particular truth which we have found, or deem
that we have found, explains everything or will set everything
right. Much of the existing conservatism and fanaticism is due
to the exaggerated value placed on a particular truth, the tacit
assumption being that if something interprets or promotes any-
thing, it must interpret and promote everything in its peculiar
sphere, say in education, politics, or jurisprudence. On the
contrary, not every important generalisation is de facto a com-
prehensive, let alone an all-comprehensive, generalisation, and
until a generalisation is indisputably established as all-embrac-
ing, we should definitely and consciously assume that many
particular truths, rather than one of this class, explain a group
of facts or vitally promote an object.

For instance, the author might have regarded the process of
generalising as the only one of moment in methodology, or he
might have assumed that a methodology comprehending obser-
vation, generalisation, and deduction, exhausted the subject.
However, numerous as are his main divisions, it is eminently
probable that criticism would reveal not a few unanticipated
divisions. The fact is that an ideal methodology is as yet im-
possible, and that we need therefore not only aim at reaching
the most comprehensive and ideally most simple generalisations,
but compromise and be ready to attain to numerous, somewhat
complicated and imperfectly connected facts and generalisations.
Indeed, the final methodological ideal is fully as useful and
fully as unreal as that of the geometrician.

§ 169. (/) FULL GENERALISATIONS.— A generalisation,
to be of serious import, should be full, as well as wide and im-
portant. To assert, for instance, that gravitation or terrestrial
attraction explains the phenomenon of weight, that electricity

SECTION 23 —GENERALISATION. 335

and magnetism are one, or that man is primarily adapted for
the specio-culturally determined life, is to state almost nothing,
if no more be stated. And this is manifest in minor matters.
To generalise, for example, the assertion "Consult Baedeker in
regard to Florence", to "Consult always something when in
doubt", is practically a waste of mental force, unless we de-
finitely expand the assertion into something like this (somewhat
exaggerated) form : " Consult libraries, newspaper reading rooms,
dictionaries, encyclopedias, atlases, charts, text-books, books of
statistics, year-books, guide-books, address-books, books generally
(prefaces, contents, summaries, conclusions, and indexes), biblio-
graphies, catalogues, lists, museums, galleries, zoological and
botanical gardens, information bureaus, societies or persons in-
terested in the matter under consideration, guides, experts,
etc., etc.; and, in fact, consult whenever in doubt".

Similarly, if in our lengthy section relating to observation,
we had only dilated on the general virtue of observation and
had • offered a miscellany of haphazard illustrations, we should
have fallen wide of the scientific mark. The real and far-
reaching value of observation is created by the many rules
which control the process: to observe exhaustively, minutely,
etc., etc. Else we have observations which are likely to prove
worthless. Fulness is of the essence here. Fulness in a gene-
ralisation, the provision of a number of particulars, should be
therefore habitually aimed at, for fulness alone endows it with
meaning and significance, forming as it also does the neces-
sary stimulus and point of departure for deductive reasoning.
Darwin's Origin of Species and Newton's Principia, or, even
better still, Aristotle's works, present illustrations of what is
signified by fulness in detail.

§ 170. (g) RATIONAL AND RELEVANT GENERALISA-
TIONS.— Generalisations should, moreover, be rational. An
enquiry is commonly undertaken for the purpose of elucidating a
particular subject matter. In attempting this there may be, and
should be, fulness of statements and of conclusions to a certain de-
gree ; but if absolute fulness be the goal, the enquiry degenerates
into a general investigation having no special end in view. To
prove exhaustively that man is fitted for the specio-culturally
determined state, and to draw up some of the principal impli-
cations, is right and proper; but to endeavour, having regard
to the peculiar subject of the enquiry, to render explicit all
that is implicit, and to pursue each of the implications into the
minutest particularity, that is, to write a complete science of
culture, including all the connected sciences, would be irrational.
Enquiries differ, of course, in intension and extension, and an
exhaustive enquiry will comprise much ; yet he who in connec-
tion with an investigation relating to the nature of protoplasm,
would write a compendium of astronomy, physics, botany, and
zoology, would act contrary to science and to modern common

336 PART V.— WORKING STAGE.

sense. His office is to adduce as large an array as possible
of salient facts and factors bearing on his special problem, and,
beyond this, to indulge in incidental excursions only.

§ 171. (h) ORIGINAL GENERALISATIONS.— Provided ge-
neralisations are at least in some measure original, they fall
outside the purview of science, unless, indeed, they serve the
important purpose of testing a theory. In fact, the more strik-
ingly novel an enquiry, the more valuable is it likely to prove.

Here are some rules relating to the cultivation of originality.
These should be supplemented by the methodological aids men-
tioned in connection with the promotion of economy (Con-
clusion 10), accuracy (§ 124), resourcefulness (§ 135), and
self -training (§ 86) : —

In a given direction improvements, discoveries, and inventions may
be effected (pre-supposing thorough training, long practice, and full up-to-
date information) by (1) our striving to become conscious of, or/and directing
attention to, e.flr., disadvantages, defects, deficiencies, absence of stand-
ardised methods and products, errors, confusions, unnecessary com-
plexity and wastefulness, or series of facts and activities not inherently
correlated or connected or not subsumed under a general or universal law,
and discrepancies between the real and men's ideal (economic, moral, in-
tellectual, hygienic, and sesthetic), be these generally admitted, easily
noticed, accidentally discovered, or perceptible on deliberate and systematic
individual and collective examination; then (2) inquiring where such and or
cognate improvements, inventions, and discoveries already exist, and apply-
ing or adapting them, and developing them to the furthest; and, where
(2) is inadequate, (3) ascertaining with meticulous care the precise defects,
etc., the general principles in removing such, and the known or likely
methods which are applied or applicable in connection with these prin-
ciples, and proceeding or inducing others to proceed, accordingly ; further-
more, by (4) examining the degree of each quality and its relations,
applying the dialectical Conclusions 27 and 28, and examining closely or
remotely related facts or activities akin in some respect, with a view
to conceivable or practicable improvements, inventions, and discoveries;
(5) fully profiting by ideas due to careful classification, to accident, -to
special and exceptional circumstances, and to novel or apparently insigni-
ficant facts, inventions, and discoveries; (6) applying the methods of
systematic examination, generalisation, deduction, and application; and
(7) seeking to invent or discover by the above methods new or ad-
ditional ways of satisfying given wants or creating others of a desirable
character.

Defects and imperfections should be in this manner brought
to the focus of consciousness and systematically dealt with.
The noiseless typewriter is a recent instance of the application
of this method; stainless steel is another.

§ 172. (/) AUTOMATICALLY INITIATED AND METHOD-
ICALLY DEVELOPED GENERALISATIONS.— In Section XIII
it was shown that we cannot with advantage generalise every
statement; but this should not deter us from habitually gen-
eralising, since we may be sure that, whilst we should thus
make many misses, we shall also make many unforeseen hits.
Wherever, for instance, we reach some conclusion regarding a
single fact, several facts, or a class of facts, we may with profit
attempt to generalise these at least to related facts or classes

SECTION 23— GENERALISATION. 337

of facts, and, if we have been successful, we may extend the
generalisation in every direction so far as circumstances permit.
Thus Kopp, examining the specific gravity of liquids at their
boiling point, not only detected regularities among their specific
volumes, but also in the boiling points of related substances,
the temperature of ebullition, and the character of the com-
pounds; to-day the fact that uranium and radium change into
other elements, has suggested the subtle question whether all
elements are in process of decomposition and whether this is
also true of compounds ; the explanation of the inertia of electri-
city has suggested that somehow the inertia of matter might
have the same cause, that indeed matter may be composed of
electrons ; and the fixation of nitrogen by bacteria, may suggest
that various other useful substances are fixed by them, as
water in an arid climate, and that all such bacteria may be
artificially multiplied. The present custom is to generalise
when something accidentally suggests this course to be de-
sirable. We ought, however, to make it a habit to generalise.
It may be that we shall thus reach only a second or a third
fact, or one class, or, on the other hand, a very comprehensive
generalisation: it does not matter, so long as we have ex-
hausted the possibilities. Such a habit will develop our powers
of generalising and avoid our neglecting to generalise when
we ought to do so, and it will also prevent our reasoning to
a second fact alone or only to the nearest class. This process
presupposes substantially original, definite, and scientifically
arrived at statements respecting facts or classes ; because, to
attempt to generalise, for example, every statement in every
article or book which crosses our path, would be folly and
would lead to disgust of generalising. It also assumes habitual
resort to verification, without which the process proposed is
destitute of sense and value.

We may now offer a few illustrations in regard to methodical
procedure. In connection with a series of particulars relating
to the senses, I deliberately seek for something to generalise.
Noting a reference to the relative rapidity of one sense, I
determine to discover rapidity of apprehension in all the senses.
After this, I methodically arrive at the term Time, the most
comprehensive class to which rapidity belongs, and decide to
render definite all the propositions so far as they relate to
Time. Continuing the process of extension, [ pass from Time
to the other aspects named in our second part of the table of
Primary Categories, and successively endeavour to utilise these.
The limit of extension is then reached regarding the problem
which we set out to examine. Again, I observe in my notes
that some sense is assisted by some other sense. I amplify
this into the question: "How far is each of the senses assisted
by each of the other senses?" And, after studying this question
with a view to extending it to the furthest bounds, I obtain,

22

338 PART V.— WORKING STAGE.

by applying Conclusion 28, the query: "How far is each sense
and any group of senses assisted, not assisted, never assisted,
impeded, etc., by each sense and any group of senses, and by
movement, impulse, feeling, mood, habit, memory, imagination,
ratiocination, will, etc.?" Similarly, noticing the term bio-
mechanics, I extend to all the divisions of physics ; then, back-
ward, apply all biological divisions to physics; then, forward
again, from physics and biology to specio-psychics ; and, lastly,
all the sub-divisions of the above to all the sub-divisions of the
above, in the most methodical manner practicable. (See Con-
clusion 33, Scheme of Classification.) In generalising in this
manner, it should not be excessively difficult to reach an ap-
preciable number of useful and sometimes invaluable minor
and major statements. Yet it ought to be borne in mind that
such methodical generalising, if it is to proceed far, is only of
real utility after we have ascertained a prodigious variety of
uniformities. Else we are pumping mud, and are sacrificing
considerably more time in futile verification than we should
have spent in independent observation.

Once more. When examining a series of conclusions at which
we have arrived, we endeavour to note in what profitable order
they may be arranged. The suggestion is, perhaps, that a for-
ward, lateral, or some other order is most appropriate. As we
inspect the conclusions in the order which apparently most
nearly fits them, we observe, however, applying Conclusion 27,
that various links are missing. We, accordingly, complete the
chain by detecting and inserting the missing links. Mendelyeff s
periodic law is a prominent exemplification of this method, and
a kindred one would be the proper classification of the sciences.
(See Conclusion 33.) However, the problem here discussed is
not only one of completing a system. It may be a question of
proportion. There may be a too large or too small, a too
much or too little, a too this or too that. We then prune
or graft until there is a practically balanced or complete re-
sult before us. The multitude of existing classifications may
be utilised as auxiliaries, as well as the special classifications
which have presented themselves during the enquiry. Finally,
when several items have been collected, we endeavour not
only to arrange them in a certain order, but to connect them,
and, if possible, to marshal them as parts of a single organised
totality.

Or examine the problem of the elaboration of a rule of life.
Noting in the preliminary investigation that sundry fundamental
psychic qualities are comprised in the provisional rule, I strive
to complete these. Theoretically this means that we should act
with our whole mental nature, our whole mental nature being
defined in conformity with the text-books of psychology as
constituted of: the intelligence (interpreted as mainly memory,
imagination, reasoning, and judgment); the feelings (consisting,

SECTION 23.— GENERALISATION. 339

oh the side of the sentiments, of the sense of right or conscience,
of sympathy or fellow-feeling, refinement or tact, and of humour
or geniality); and the will (interpreted as mainly initiative,
resoluteness, perseverance, and strenuousness). The rule then
reads: "In your conduct (and, further generalising methodically,
in all your activities!) utilise all the powers of the mind, i.e.,
carry out promptly and intelligently, in a sympathetic, genial, and
tactful manner, what a thoroughly enlightened and awakened
conscience (reason, taste, etc.) demands." We arrive in this
methodical way at a complete rule, so far as our present
knowledge extends.

Methodical procedure is of cardinal importance from the
commencement of an enquiry; but it should not be severely
pressed until we have made considerable headway and until
we are tolerably sure of our ground. For example, assuming
any two points reached, we search for any possible points
disregarded between or beyond the two points, and, having
reached some kind of scheme, we proceed to eliminate what is
irrelevant and add what is lacking. Even to the last, however,
the system constructed needs to be critically re-examined, and,
if required, recast, for especially towards the end of an enquiry
should gaps and flaws become visible or even glaring. (Con-
clusion 30.) So, too, the amount of time we have devoted to
a certain portion of our investigation or the amount of material
we have collected, will each, when examined, perhaps suggest
that adequate attention has not been paid to that portion, or
that the material collected or the time absorbed is more than
ample. And we shall not rest satisfied till we have done what
is necessary to weld all the details into a connected whole, or,
at the very least, to link them, so far as permissible, in a parti-
cular order. Unintermittently, therefore, we need to aim at
rounded or strictly serial and connected results, and arrange
that continuity and proportion are throughout respected. So
long as this object is not attained, our work is manifestly in-
complete, and to obviate such incompleteness we should have
recourse to methodological procedure.

From the foregoing it is evident that the value of proceeding
methodically cannot be overrated. Leaving matters to chance
or to half-chance, we not only progress with painful slowness,
but -we can never be confident in our conclusions. On the
contrary, by methodical observation, recollection, generalising,
deducing, application, and classifying, we advance with rapid
strides and safely. The collection of facts will proceed with
great rapidity, and the explanation of these facts will be con-
summated at the earliest possible moment, when methodological
canons continuously govern the process of enquiry. Darwin
never merely indulged in assertions, nor merely speculated;
but he systematically applied logical rules throughout all his
work. One might, indeed, claim that the truest token of intellec-
ts*

340 PART V— WORKING STAGE.

tual and other progress is progress in method, for the sufficient
reason that method, if socially available, places us in a position
to fix and multiply facts for the benefit of our contemporaries
and descendants. In its absence, we inherit the outcome of
others' labour, but remain ignorant of any valuable methods
they may have applied, and continue therefore very much in
the condition of Sisyphus. In the case of secret processes this
disadvantage is self-evident, inasmuch as the secret is some-
times interred with its custodian.

From the viewpoint of methodical procedure, granting the
existence of a general methodology, the first step is to classify
facts and processes, and to effect this in the manner above
indicated. (See also Conclusion 3.) Where in any science or
art a passable store of these classifications exists, the inquirer
is immensely aided, and is in turn able to improve them. So
far as methodical procedure in classification is concerned, it
consists in organically stringing together the facts under review
at any time. Wherever there are contrasts and opposites (as
good and bad, or long and short), the one should automatically
suggest the other, all that lies between the termini, and all
related divisions to the furthest limit. Degree-extremes, such
as pool to ocean, infancy to senility, or ingestion to excretion,
should be at once detected and methodically treated as ordinary
contrasts. Also, each alleged division needs to be examined
as to its homogeneity (as a given colour), and as to how far the
division between it and other supposed divisions may be bridged
(as deliberation and habit). Relations of quantity, time, space,
consciousness, degree, state, change, and personal equation,
noted in the second part of the table of Primary Categories,
should be methodically exhausted; as well as the processes
enumerated in the third part of the above table.

Another illustration. In connection with an international
movement of a humanitarian character, I contemplate writing
to a certain Speaker. I generalise this to all Speakers, to all
Prime Ministers and Foreign Secretaries, to all Cabinet Ministers,
to all Party Leaders, to all Ambassadors and Consuls-General,
to all Rulers, to all Presidents of international associations, to
all Principals of universities, to all notable thinkers, and so on ;
and I further generalise by mentally resolving to employ this
generalisation and improve or adapt it in any appropriate
future contingency. I press beyond to national and local activi-
ties, and then to other spheres of an international, national,
local, group, individual, and incidental (also physical, intellectual,
moral, aesthetic, and vocational) character. Or, watching close
by the performance of a first-rate pianist, I reason that his
extreme delicacy and enormous vigour of touch could be de-
liberately imparted to ordinary pupils ; that these qualities should
mark the musician generally, also the painter, the sculptor, the
architect, including the arts and crafts generally; that they might

SECTION 23.— GENERA LISA TION. 341

be applied to poetry, literature, and oratory ; and that they are,
perhaps, in place in all human activities.

Again. Suppose it is contended that nationalism is of supreme
importance because of its alleged distinctiveness and matchless
cultural value.1 At once, automatically, we form as complete
a classification as we can of the relevant facts — individual,
common interests of individuals (religion, municipal and political
parties, art, science, economics, health), family, neighbourhood,
city, district, county, province, country, empire, pan(Slavs,
Germans), religion, pan(Islamites), race, internationalism, cosmo-
politanism, humanity, life, nature — and then ask ourselves how
far each of these is distinctive and possesses cultural value.
Our conclusion will evidently be that justice should be done
to all component parts of mankind, that several of these are
extremely important, and that it is deceptive, and even perilous,
to select one of them for general emphasis save in a limited
problem. That is, a methodical arrangement of the whole series
of pertinent facts within which nationalism falls, enables us
forthwith to correct a plausible and menacing error.

So, too, noting that a law term is appropriately applied
outside the arena of law, this observation is,^ subject to con-
venience, methodically generalised according to the cultural
list of categories in § 1, to all terms of law, and, thence, pro-
gressively, to all classes of terms having a restricted signifi-
cation; or remarking that an appellative term is by some writer
narrowed in meaning, the process is methodically applied to
all such classes of terms, and, inversely, to the methodical
generalisation of restricted terms. Such a course should also
suggest the figurative use of concrete terms and proper names,
and the thorough exhaustion of the favourable possibilities of
language along all lines.

Assume, lastly, that I am struck with the variations in the
prefix con. Instead of examining these at haphazard, as sug-
gested by a capricious memory, I prepare the methodical
statement which follows: —

Co - agulation
Co m 6ination
Co n ceal
Co n dition
Co - education
Co n firm
Co n gress
Co - /lesion
Co - incident
Co n /unction
Co k
Co 1 /ection

1 Regionalists, not without some excellent reasons, frequently advance
the same claim to-day. It is by admitting the great importance of the bulk
of the theories which emphasise one or another aspect of life, that we shall
most effectually promote the progress of the world.

342 PART V.— WORKING STAGE.

Com jnence
Co n nection
Co - operation
Complexion
Co n quer
Co r rection
Co n slant
Co n /inue
Co "- Unitarian
Co n yiction
Co w
Co x
Co y
Co z

Everything becomes now clear as day, and without delay I am
in the position to formulate the ensuing apposite conclusions:

(a) No con-combinations exist with non-Latin words, L e.,
words beginning with k, w, x, y, z.

(b) Stems whose first letter consists of a vowel or the aspirate
are preceded by co, though exceptions exist.

(c) In certain cases where the n in con-combinations would
be difficult to pronounce, it becomes 772, as in words commencing
with b, p, m.

(d) For similar reasons as in (c), the n in con becomes / be-
fore /, and r before /•.

(e) Rules (a), (c), and (d), apply presumably to in and other
prefixes terminating in /?, if others should exist — imbibe, im-
pinge, z/legible, immaterial, zrreductible, etc.

Similar rules are presumably operative throughout the English
language in the words derived from Latin, e.g., rampant, e/fusion,
diffusion; or, ad adapted as follows: a/firm, aggrandise, a/lure,
ammunition, apparent, arrive, ascent, assume, attention.

From this lengthy statement it will be readily inferred that
habitual and methodical procedure as a whole, including of
course habitual and methodical generalisation, are of prime im-
portance.

The sub-headings in Conclusion 16, pertaining to Observation,
should be also utilised in connection with the process of gene-
ralisation.

CONCLUSION 26.

Need of Postponing large Generalisations to near the Conclusion

of the Enquiry.

§ 173. Useful as is the formulation of comprehensive con-
clusions at the termination of an investigation, it is mischievous
to seek for these at the commencement, for the reason that
the conclusions then arrived at are almost certainly premature
and are likely therefore to be erroneous and misleading. Until
the field under inspection is scrupulously explored, the largest
number of conclusions are collected, and the ground is traversed
repeatedly, it is well to regard the conclusions reached as

SECTION 23.— GENERALISATION. 343

practically of equal value. Towards the close of the enquiry,
when verification is easy and misapprehensions are difficult,
the conclusions will be gradually valuated, graded, developed,
connected, completed, the paramount factors will be isolated,
and a point of view elaborated. For instance, the present author,
in writing his Mind of Man, launched upon his examination
of the chief psychological categories current, without reference
to any hypothesis concerning their nature, and he is at a loss
to conceive why in the investigation of any ordinary problem,
except for directive purposes, one should seek to anticipate the
final conclusion or expect that such anticipation will be con-
firmed by the examination. Are the secrets of nature and of
life to be more easily elicited by sheer speculation than the
melodies which may be charmed out of a violin? The answer
of history on this point is conclusive.

CONCLUSION 27.

Need of Exhausting the Degree of Applicability of a Conclusion
within and between Divisions, and also of Extending it to Parallel,
Distantly Related, Seemingly Unrelated, Pure, Normal, Minimal,
Maximal, Deviating, Morbid, Eccentric, Border, and Transitional

Instances.

§ 174. (A) DEGREE-DETERMINATION.-Bacon, in his
analysis of the nature of heat, allowed for degrees of heat.
The use here proposed of the term Degree, however, extends
further, for in Bacon's analysis we should have gradually passed
from intense heat to imperceptible heat and thence to percep-
tible cold and intense cold, thus challenging his assumption
that heat and cold are separable facts; and we should have
been obliged to proceed even beyond and inquired as to whether
temperature represents a simple quality or a mixture or complex
of qualities, and how far it is one of a series of related
qualities — how far it is, for instance, related to light and electri-
city. Similarly, the common notion that attention intensifies a
mental state, loses its meaning when this Conclusion is applied,
for attention proves to be merely an alternative term for
direction and relative concentration of mental activity. If an
assertion is made concerning a certain class of objects, we
ought to call into question its extending so far, and also learn
whether it does not extend indefinitely farther. A Conclusion
such as the present one will probably transpire to be most
valuable by sometimes narrowing the compass of a generalisation,
but more frequently in greatly extending its scope. It may be
automatically applied where contrasts are or may be brought
in question, such as once and always, one and everything, con-
cretest detail and abstractest generality, particular and universal,
simple and complex, large and small, far and near, light and
heavy, white and black, summer and winter, good and bad,
ignorant and well-informed, beautiful and ugly.

344 PART V.-WORKING STAGE.

The passage from ether to electron, from electron to the proto-
elements, from the latter to the inert gases, from these to ordi-
nary elements and simple compounds, and from the last to
colloids and protoplasm;1 from gases to solids; from freez-
ing point to boiling point; from the electric spark of a
toy battery to the flash of lightning; from the readily ob-
tained amount of energy required for effecting the combination
of phosphorus with warm air to the at present unobtainable
amount necessary for disintegrating a chemical element; from
opacity to transparency; from imperviousness to perviousness ;
from rarity to density ; from the feeble draught making its way
up a kitchen chimney in sultry weather to a tempest in mid-
ocean; from rill to river; from the centre of the earth to its
surface and from its surface to the periphery of the atmo-
sphere; from the tremours of a stretched wire to earthquake
shocks ; from the climate or the stratification of one geological
epoch to that of another; from antarctic to arctic zone; from
the temperature of trees to that of birds; from the degree of
plant metabolism in mid-spring to that of mid- winter ; from the
bright scarlet colour of arterial blood to the dark purple of
venous blood; from complete sterility to remarkable fertility
of hybrid and other offspring; from alert wakefulness to pro-
found sleep; from rasping noise to mellifluous harmony; from
imperturbable calm to neurotic excitement ; from high efficiency
to total inefficiency; from verbal exposition to concrete study;
from ultra-anarchist to ultra-conservative in politics and other
spheres; from Napoleonic artillery effective only at less than
a mile range to modern long-distance guns deadly at more
than sixty miles range; and from private altercations to world
wars; the discovery of the spheroidal nature of the globe, of
the planetary perturbations, the variations of the earth's magne-
tism, and of the presence of carbonic acid in the air in a small

"The degree of chemical complexity capable of existing in the materials
found on the earth is definitely and sharply fixed by temperature. At a
white heat, such as exists in the sun's atmosphere, we have seen that
only elements can exist, and many of these are decomposed into proto-
elements. At a somewhat lower temperature binary compounds, such as the
oxides, can remain in equilibrium, in incomplete combination, becoming
more and more complete as the temperature falls, and, as soon as their
existence becomes possible, these oxides do exist. Lower still in the scale
of temperature, saline compounds, such as chlorides of the alkalies, and
mutually neutralised acidic and basic oxides combined together, can stand
the heat. Such bodies as the carbonates of calcium and magnesium can
now be present in an incomplete state of combination, partially as oxide
and partially as carbonate, in labile balance as the temperature fluctuates
up or down, and the pressure of carbon dioxide in the atmosphere changes.
Whenever the environmental conditions make their presence possible, these
more complex forms must promptly make their appearance by chemical law.
But it is only at a very much lower temperature that compounds at all
complicated in chemical structure can exist in equilibrium, and for those
compounds of many hundreds of atoms which are a characteristic of life,
the range is narrowly limited." (Benjamin Moore, op. cit., pp. 184-186.)

SECTION 23— GENERALISATION. 345

•

but definite proportion, as illustrating the need of a high degree
of exactitude; the retardation of ascending missiles through
the action of gravity and their parabolic trajectory; the possi-
bility of a continuous transition from the liquid to the gaseous
state, as evidenced by gaseous carbon dioxide turning into its
corresponding liquid gradually; the difference in the penetrat-
ing power of alpha, beta, and gamma rays; the degree of
conductivity and compressibility of different substances; the
effect of variations in degrees of temperature in determining
the consistency of a substance or in producing the trade winds
and land and sea breezes; the problem of the pump, and of
the use of mercury in connection with the thermometer and
barometer ; the use of gold-leaf in electrical experiments because
of its unrivalled thinness; the quantitative and qualitative dif-
ferences between the chemical elements; the point of greatest
and least density of water and of other substances; steam,
cloud, mist, rain, hail, sleet, snow, ice, frost, and dew as
forms of water; the state of the earth now and when it was
in a gaseous condition; the similarity of the light seen when
the temperature of a meteorite is slowly raised in a laboratory
with that of a comet approaching the sun; the displacement
in geology of the catastrophic by the Huttonian theory; the
links which connect the lowliest with the most developed forms
of life; the relation of fluctuations to mutations in biology;
nerve cells, muscular cells, sense cells, and glandular cells, as
modifications of epithelial cells; the significant part played by
bacteria and earthworms in the economy of nature; the slow
forming and fading of sensory impressions; the problem of
attention and inattention, of habit and deliberate thought and
action, and of the formation of character ; the educative process
in the race and individual, and human progress from eolithic to
modern times and beyond; the relative moral, intellectual, and
hygienic effects of small and large potions of alcohol; the
ability to resist appreciable doses of poison through becoming
habituated to them by the frequent absorption of inconsiderable
doses;1 the comparative truth and importance of two opposed
assertions or courses of action in politics or social life; the
slow development of landscape painting from still and dark-
green landscapes to landscapes abounding in colour and
movement, or portraiture from passivity and stiffness to action
and vivacity, of buildings from mud hut to Rheims cathedral,
and of music from the primitive man's chant to a Beethoven

1 "It is only some fifteen years since Calmette showed that, if cobra
poison were introduced into the blood of a horse in less quantity than
would cause death, the horse would tolerate, with little disturbance, after ten
days, a full dose, and then day after day an increasing dose, until the horse,
without any inconvenience, received an injection of cobra poison large
enough to kill thirty horses of its size." (Sir Ray Lankester, The Kingdom
of Man, 1912, p. 79.)

346 PART V.— WORKING STAGE.

symphony; the place of diagrammatic curves in statistical and
other studies ; and countless other problems — including the bulk
of the facts of geology and physiography, the steady growth
and further development of the arts, crafts, sciences, and
social institutions, and everything capable of being treated
quantitatively, need to be classified under this head.

In this way, by using the stereoscope with sets of photographs,
taken from half-an-inch to ten inches apart, we convincingly
demonstrate that our sense of the third dimension is due, in
part at least, to the distance between the eyes. Thus "Sir
H. Davy, from finding that the flame of hydrogen gas was not
communicated through a long slender tube, conjectured that
a shorter but slenderer tube would answer the same purpose;
this led him to try the experiments, in which, by continually
shortening the tube, and at the same time lessening its bore,
he arrived at last at the wire-gauze of his safety lamp".
(Whately, Logic, pp. 237-238.)

Again. Warm water at rest in an open vessel lacks deci-
dedly the character of a solid; yet "the water a foot or so
away from the fireman's hose, may be struck with a hammer,
and the latter will rebound as though from an anvil". Simi-
larly, chromium added to steel in a certain proportion renders
the latter rustless, and the best incandescent mantle contains
a mixture of 99 per cent, of thorium oxide and 1 per cent, of
cerium oxide. To borrow an example from Venn: "If we are
shown two glasses of water, one from the sea, and one from
the Lake of Geneva, no one can detect any difference in their
colour. But let us have enough of each in vessels side by
side, and any eye could detect the degree and nature of the
contrast." (Logic, p. 536.) So, too, if we place two ounce
weights side by side, no mutual gravitational effect is observ-
able; but a pendulum near a mountain is deflected sensibly.
Thus snowflakes appear white in masses and transparent when
detached, and the corpuscles of the blood seem red when in
numbers and somewhat yellow separately. Anthropology offers
us a pertinent illustration of some consequence. Human beings
are as a rule strictly divided into white, yellow, and black ; yet
not only does Prof. Tyler in his Anthropology (p. 67) inform
us that "on the whole it seems that the distinction of colour, from
the fairest Englishman to the darkest African, has no hard and
fast lines, but varies gradually from one tint to another",
but the facts appear rather to bear witness to a single colour—
from the palest to the shadiest yellow. Darwin applies this
Conclusion perhaps more frequently than any other: "This
feather-mark [the ocellus on the tail-coverts of the peacock]
was properly considered a serious difficulty to Darwin's theory
because of its remarkable character. But with consummate in-
genuity he undertook to connect it by a series of less and less
remarkable markings with the ordinary feather-markings of the

SECTION 23.— GENERALISATION. 347

group to which the peacock belongs." (Frank Cramer, op. cit.,
pp. 58-59.) "The first thing to be established in proof of the
derivation of climbing plants from non-climbers was the exis-
tence of gradations in the power of climbing, and the inter-
mediate stages between the different methods of climbing —
by twining of the stem, by leaf-stalks, and by tendrils." (Ibid.,
p. 166.)

§ 175. Lastly. The dimensional theories appear to diminish
in persuasiveness when the measure of a high degree of exacti-
tude in analysis is applied. A point, a line, and a plane, as
limiting notions, are permissible concepts; but from the stand-
point of objective reality we are bound to assume that they
convey no distinct meaning. For instance, since, by definition,
a point does not, and a line does, occupy space, no number of
successive points however great, could form a line however
small. Similarly, since a line, by definition, is said to have no
width, an infinite number of juxtaposed lines could never form
a plane however limited; and since, by definition, a plane has
no depth, me superposition of any number of planes however
multitudinous, could not form a solid however thin. The three
sets of dimensions, as conceived separately, have therefore, it
seems, no relation whatever one to another.

From a different standpoint, the same criticism applies if a
.sufficiently high degree of exactitude is employed. Any actual
point must have three dimensions, and so must any actual line
and plane. A one or two-dimensioned being is apparently a
mere logical or verbal figment. So-called plane beings resolve
themselves into three-dimensional beings whom we, for theoreti-
cal purposes or owing to an insufficient degree of clarity of
thought, regard as two-dimensional. .For the same reason, when
we speak of four-dimensional beings, we are almost certainly
carried away by the verbal decomposition of solids into three
parts. As a matter of fact, every conceivable object is a solid,
no more and no less. It is as if, misled by a useful division,
men reasoned that we could imagine the existence of a single
horizontal direction — east, or of horizontal directions, additional
to east, west, north, and south, and their intermediates.

Or to illustrate the matter differently. Conscious lines floating
in space and coming into contact or collision with other lines,
would become aware of the existence of those other lines. If
these lines collided with planes or cubes, they would be con-
scious of them, but only in so far as lines. So with planes,
colliding with lines and cubes. The planes would recognise the
lines as lines, and the cubes in so far as planes. Accordingly,
a four-dimensional being coming into collision with a three-
dimensional being would be recognised by the latter so far as
three out of the four dimensions are in question. The four-
dimensional being cannot consequently live more than one
fourth outside the three-dimensional world.

348 PART V.— WORKING STAGE.

However, ultra-three-dimensional beings are usually thought
of as living entirely on one plane, in the fourth dimension. If
so, they must be conceived as entirely unconscious of the three
other planes. Besides, recent speculations hiave acquainted us
with hypothetical beings having two and three dimensions; but
not with beings living exclusively in the second or third dimen-
sion. No one, if we mistake not, has yet pretended that such
existed or could exist. We certainly are not cognisant of them.
Hence a being living exclusively in the fourth dimension, poses
a new problem, and raises the perplexing question of the
existence of beings living entirely in the second or third
dimension.

Whatever way, then, we regard the dimensional problem,
it seems— if our analysis is penetrating enough— that nothing
but solids exist, and that we are wholly unconscious of the
existence of one or two-dimensional beings. Einstein's rigid
bodies and mollusks seem to fall both under the same definition.
Probably an analysis of the notions of curved spheroidal and
finite space would be equally non-confirmative of recent space
theories.

§ 176. In practical life, matters of degree are constantly
overlooked. For this reason one school will declare itself
ostentatiously for the upholding of authority and another of
freedom, when wise moderation suggests that the utmost liberty
of personal judgment is congruent with the deepest general
respect for authority. Similarly, this Conclusion urges the
advantage of increasingly more precise, refined, and powerful
instruments and methods, which have frequently revolutionised
a department of science and general activity, and the need of
observation being of the extremest delicacy, of experiments
being completely unequivocal, and of calculations disregarding
no factor however seemingly insignificant. Moreover, it com-
prehends all analogical reasoning both in respect of degree and
qualitative resemblance, as the analogy between food and fuel
or a gland and a lung, or the determination of the ponderable
nature of the air by noting that it can be warmed, cooled,
moved, compressed, dilated, even seen in certain circumstances,
that it rises in water, occupies space, exerts palpable pressure
when strongly agitated, behaves like smoke, is capable of pro-
ducing sound, etc. The Conclusion is also, as we have noted,
most especially applicable to the systematic testing of the
homogeneity of any content and of the reality of divisions, of
the comparative importance or position of two or more related
facts, as well as to terms involving degree, contrast, similarity,
and, in general, relativity. If Descartes and Malebranche had
applied this Conclusion, they would have probably abandoned
their favourite terms Clear and Distinct as terms normally
lacking absolute, and needing relative, determination, and
M. Henri Bergson would probably find himself left, perhaps,

SECTION 23.— GENERALISATION. 349

without any inner world at all if, following this Conclusion, he
consistently excluded all experience, reflection, and classifi-
cation.

Furthermore, we alter the degree of an alleged cause for
the purpose of perceiving whether there is a uniformly cor-
responding change in the degree of its alleged effects, and
vice versa. (This is Bacon's and Mill's method of Concomitant
Variation.) We also search for pure instances, for extremes,
for that which may be regarded as the mean or the normal,
for deviating, morbid, eccentric, border, and transitional in-
stances, and for any other remarkable stages or divisions be-
tween the extremes or between maximum and minimum, en-
deavouring to reduce all exceptions to rules. We inquire whether
we are dealing with partly or wholly continuous or qualitatively
different states. We gradually eliminate constituents in order
to observe the residual phenomena which often prove to be of
far-reaching significance both theoretically and practically, and
also by stages add others with the same object, as in chemistry.
We endeavour to arrange all knowledge in a determinate
order— atomic weight of chemical elements, specific gravity of
substances, influence of time on physical, vital, and cultural
components and processes, the evolution of the human eye and
other parts of the human body from the earliest manifestation
of life on the globe, etc., allowing for veiled or hidden resem-
blances and dissimilarities, as in subcutaneous processes or
structures in the living or superficially different but really
homologous vital functions and parts, as illustrated by the
"wings" of the bat, the "fins" of the whale, and the electric
organs of fishes.

§ 177. Darwin, in his Descent of Man, reasoned circum-
stantially that man was essentially an animal, because in in-
numerable respects he resembles animals. Proofs in behalf of
this thesis he offered in profusion, inquiring into every con-
ceivable character which was alleged to be distinctive of man.
Throughout, he proceeded on the assumption that differences
of degree are of secondary importance. Yet by consistently
pursuing such a method he would have experienced no difficulty
in proving that all animals are plants, and possibly that no
division exists between living and non-living things.

The truth, however, is that degrees frequently indicate quali-
tative differences. E.g., a black piece of iron, as it is being
heated, grows successively red-hot and white-hot ; a certain
degree of friction produces a spark, and only at a certain stage
does chemical combination or decomposition take place. More
marvellous still, when the rate of oscillation of electrons is
very high, they emit rays which cause the sensation known
to us as light, and if "they oscillate even faster than required
for this effect, they produce rays of invisible light. Slower
oscillations produce rays of heat, and still slower frequencies

350

V.-WORKING STAGE.

give rise to the wonderful wireless waves." Or, to consider a
different case: with both parents brunettes, the offspring may
be either fair or dark, and with both parents blondes, the
offspring is invariably blonde. Again, a certain minimum of
learning from the experience of others may be found among-
some animals; man, however, assimilates the substance of the
thoughts of all his kind past and present. Man, therefore,
almost infinitely transcends in degree the capacity of any animal
for learning from others, and this quasi-infinite difference argues.
that man has reached a unique stage which knows no limitation
to the assimilation of the thoughts of others. If that were
not so, we should only have a right to expect in this connection
a virtually negligible difference between man and ape.

Similarly with man and his tools. Viewing the matter com-
prehensively, men may be said to have manufactured and
employed thousands of millions of different tools or art-produced
means. Compared, therefore, to what is presented by Western
civilisation, for instance, the two or three unfashioned tools
used by animals, bear witness once more to some exclusive
quality in man. Otherwise it would be difficult to explain
why man should in this respect surpass almost infinitely any
known animal, instead of manifesting only an infinitesimal
difference. Had Darwin, therefore, observed not only the
abstract similarity, but the colossal degree of the difference,
he would have been necessarily obliged to search for the cause
which would explain this prodigious departure from animal
skill. He might have then perhaps discovered that through
man having reached the stage of intelligence (just above the
higher apes) where he could freely learn from others, a crucial
turning point had been attained in the history of living beings,
replacing individual and organic evolution by specio-psychic or
cultural evolution. It is, therefore, indispensable that not only
bare similarity, but the degree of the difference should be taken
account of in an enquiry.

In the opposite direction the same fallacy should be avoided.
The reality of progress has been frequently denied, because
there appeared to be inappreciable progress in certain directions,
and even retrogression in others. A general survey, however,
on the basis of a compendious classification, would have yielded
overwhelming evidence not only of the reality of progress, but
of its vastness and its virtual universality. Examine, for ex-
ample, in this connection the progress in matters relating to
language. "From a few inarticulate calls and cries a vo-
cabulary of a hundred thousand words or more, with a cor-
respondingly developed grammar, is evolved; the evanescent
word comes gradually to be fixed by the process of writing,
which translates the sounds into sight symbols; the invention
of printing follows, whereby, at a trivial cost of labour and
with almost lightning-like velocity, what is written may be in-

SECTION 23.— GENERALISATION. 351

definitely multiplied;1 the telegraph is then developed, enabling
us to remain in uninterrupted contact with our fellows all over
the terrestrial globe; the telephone follows the telegraph, turn-
ing dots and dashes into the living, vibrating voice; and this,
lastly, is succeeded by wireless telegraphy saving tens of
thousands of lives at sea and rendering spiritual intercourse
independent of artificial media. If this be not progress, and
on a stupendous scale, it would be vain to attach any mean-
ing to the term.

"Or, consider the related problem of transport. Primitive
man has no paths and no vehicles. Gradually roads, canals,
bridges, tunnels, of a more and more scientific and extensive
character, are constructed; and by degrees conveyances innumer-
able fill the world, propelled by animals, by steam, by gas, by
electricity, by petrol, at a speed which would have terrified
early man, and comfort-yielding beyond the fancies of lords
and ladies of yore. Nor is the solid earth alone utilised. The
seas teem with magnificent boats, and the air is beginning to
be alive with aircraft. Would not a primitive have regarded
such an improvement as outwinging his most daring anticipa-
tions of what man could achieve?

"Or, to treat the rest summarily, shall we speak of the
startling and superlative advance embodied in modern science,
of the varied and brilliant triumphs of the arts, of the horde
spirit expanding into the international spirit, of man-sacrificing
superstition transformed into man-saving religion, of the rose of
morality blossoming out of the briars of barbarism, of the ven-
detta and the torture chamber issuing in comparatively impartial
and humane laws, of despotism forced to yield inch by inch to
democracy, of the haphazard acquisition of incoherent supposi-
tions melting into the dawn of an epoch of scientific and
systematic education and learning, or of the magic story of
architecture from the straw-hut to the marble palace? The
more closely we scrutinise the problem, the more manifest it
becomes that not only is progress a reality, but that the
advance from the use of unchipped flints to that of electrically-
driven machinery, from the era of speechlessness to that of
collectively-applied scientific methods, has been immeasurably
great — so great that the imagination staggers and reels when
it strives comprehensively and without bias to envisage the
metamorphosis and transfiguration which have taken place."
(G. Spiller, Outlines of a New World Religion, 1918, pp. 16-17.)

1 To judge by present achievements, the highest aesthetic education and
satisfaction of all individuals will be successfully promoted in the future
through art reproductions in the home: the works of the great master
painters will be represented in plain monochrome or in the appealing colours
of the originals in frames or on walls; those of the illustrious sculptors and
artificers will be there in proxy; the sublimest music and song will fill
every home; and other adornments, no less magical, will be ubiquitous.

352 P^RT V.— WORKING STAGE.

Looking, then, in perspective at the problem of the reality
of progress we learn that the negative view loses itself in a
sea of trifles and ignores the mountains of evidence in its
favour. Quantity in proof can only be neglected at the risk
of missing a general law.

Yet even a comparatively insignificant degree of difference
may be due to new factors. Approaching the edge of a pre-
cipitous cliff, this is of no consequence to life and limb until
we are close to the edge. Working out a complicated problem,
the solution presents itself only at the very end. In this light,
it is contended here, ought we to consider man's intelligence.
From faintest sensibility, we advance in the animal kingdom
to the possession of a number of highly developed senses;
from simple and uncertain reactions, we come to complex and
definite instincts; and from scarcely perceptible intelligence,
we reach the acute sagacity of the higher mammals, and
especially of the monkeys and the apes. In the last of these
instances the quality and the scope of thought intimately
approaches man's. The manner in which the Orang Outang
in captivity studies his visitors, and visibly calculates and
adapts his actions (see Mind of Man, pp. 462-463), is confus-
ingly like man's. Why posit, then, a gigantic distance intellec-
tually between man and ape, when the two appear so closely
related? And still, scrutinising the subject circumspectly, we
find that the Orang Outang just misses being sufficiently
advanced intellectually to profit freely by the thoughts of
others. That is, a slight advance beyond the Orang Outang,
corresponding in some degree to man's completely erect attitude
and his larger brain, furnishes the possibility of freely learning
by the experience of others, and this, as is plain, opens a new
earth, nay a new universe. Just as the ultimate step at the
cliff's edge, or rather the ultimate line in our mathematical
problem, translate us, as if by magic, into a fresh world, so
the last step in the evolution of the intelligence, insignificant
in itself, is responsible for a fundamental change.

We should beware hence of mechanically reasoning in regard
to degrees of difference. Great differences of degree may or
may not be due to qualitative differences, and small differences
may be in exactly the same position. The cause of a difference
should be in each case separately and scrupulously inquired
into.1

§ 178. Inasmuch as the present and the succeeding Conclu-
sion are of extreme significance methodologically, we venture
to offer an example of how the two Conclusions may be applied

1 Of course, we should also search for fixed differences. It is believed,
for instance, that there are no degrees of inheritance, a factor being either
present or absent. Furthermore, definite facts and laws are said to exist
in abundance, as the chemical elements, the law of gravitation, and the
laws of motion.

SECTION 23.— GENERALISATION. 353

to a problem, premising that there is here no attempt to exhaust
the possible number of aspects. In all investigations we must
proceed in this manner if we are to escape serious error, and
if we are to proffer an appreciable contribution towards solving
a problem. We base the first portion of our example on the
now discarded table of Secondary Categories and the second
on the table of Primary Categories, emphasising in this place
only the former.

(a) State what is the precise object of the enquiry— the nature
of habit, and roughly define^ the term Habit.

(b) Determine whether there is such a thing as a habit at all ;
whether its existence is relatively doubtful or' relatively indubit-
able.

(c) Determine to what degree a habit may be part of a more
comprehensive phenomenon embracing, say, automatic, reflex,
and deliberate action, or may be constituted of varying phe-
nomena, including now some psychic factors and now others;
or may represent as a totality or in part a qualitatively unique
phenomenon ; or may enter into the whole or part of the mental
life; or may be evanescent or last a life-time.

(rf) Determine how far one habit evolves out of preceding,
depends on or conditions co-existing, and forms a basis for
succeeding, habits and other activities, and determine how far
habits differ from one another as wholes or in their parts.

(e) Follow a habit from its one or more lowest, through its
one or more normal or perfect, to its one or more highest,
stages,1 allowing for average, casual, momentary, time-pro-
duced, environment-produced, transitional, imperfect, perfect,
exceptional, abnormal, and morbid characteristics.

(/) Determine whether differences of degree as to any aspect
of a habit produce any fundamental or what difference, and
whether habits are related by a chain of degrees to other related
phenomena such as automatic, reflex, and deliberate action.

(g) Gradually eliminate and also add, one by one and also
in groups and in different quantities, the alleged static and
dynamic constituents of a habit and apply exact measurement,
calculation, experiment, and deductive method.

(h) Trace step by step, or continuously, the evolution, imme-
diate and more remote origin, development, dissolution or trans-
formation, further evolution, and general effects of habits or
of a habit, and apply the other modal aspects in the table of
Primary Categories.

(/') Allow in the investigation of a habit for possible contra-
dictory, contrary, opposite, common, disparate, dependent,

1 In following, for instance, the change in volume of water from boiling
point to freezing point, we shall be surprised to find that the volume of
water, when closely approaching the freezing point, ceases to contract and
begins to expand. Only tireless vigilance, which takes nothing for granted,
will disclose such eccentricities.

23

354 PART V.— WORKING STAGE.

interdependent, complementary, alternative, relative, parallel,
and distantly related or seemingly unrelated static and dynamic
facts, in or between habits as wholes, or in or between parts
of those wholes.

(y) Compare habits under varied conditions, including those
most similar and dissimilar.

(k) Determine the degree of a habit's relation to closely, less
closely, and distantly connected phenomena in order to reach
the most comprehensive relevant statement.

(/) Ascertain the degree of the relations of habits to psycho-
logy in general and its applications, to the sciences imme-
diately—and those more distantly— related to psychology, to
the sciences and the arts generally, and to the social sciences
and their corresponding practical activities.

(m) Lastly. Furnish, after the fullest investigation, the tersest,
most lucid, most definite, and most comprehensive statement of
the peculiar nature of habit, which approaches to complete exact-
ness and is offered as far as possible in mathematical form.

And in respect of the aim of the investigation, it is neces-
sary, in pursuance of the table of Primary Categories, to
determine the Material Aspects (Elementals, or precise funda-
mental sensory and other mental data relating to the nature
of habits; Constituents, or the precise static and dynamic
elements, materials, and parts of a habit, and their precise
disposition, connection, and relative homogeneity or hetero-
geneity; Form, or the precise form of a habit; Dependence, or
the precise dependence of habits on leading and other accom-
panying phenomena; Action and Cause, or the precise chief
causes and effects of habits; Resemblances, or the precise
degree and nature of the resemblances subsisting between
habits and between habits and related phenomena; Classifica-
tion, or the precise methodical classification of the facts col-
lected and their subsumption under a larger classificatory
scheme; Position, or precise comparative position of habits
within the class or classes in which they fall, and precise
comparison of the constituents of different habits; Differentiae,
or the precise leading and other differentia, of habits, the
ascertainment of the leading differentiae being the primary
object of. an investigation; Details, or the precise secondary
aspects or details relating to habits and of interest to the
inquirer; Worth, or the precise utilisation, application, reproduc-
tion, value, quality, appreciation, desire, liking, preference, love,
and enjoyment, and their opposites, of habits ; Description, or
precise nomenclature, terminology, and statements in connec-
tion with habits) and the Modal Aspects (comprising important
items pertaining to Quantity, Time, Space, Consciousness, Degree,
State, Change, and Personal Equation).1

1 On the nature of habit, see the author's Mind of Man, and for an
analysis based on the table of Primary Categories, § 102.

SECTION 23— GENERALISATION. 355

§179. (B) PARALLEL AND OTHER INSTANCES.— If the
"opposite", as we shall see in the next Conclusion, may show
that the contrary of the proposition holds good, and if the
Sub-Conclusion relating to degree may in a more elastic way
indefinitely narrow or extend the limits of a proposition, the
Sub-Conclusion pertaining to parallel cases of facts endeavours
to extend an assertion to classes of facts which do not at first
sight appear to be closely filiated. For instance, by the Sub-
Conclusion of degree-determination or that of opposite instances,
the bad man may be proved to possess a conscience which
encourages him to commit wrong, and by the present Sub-
Conclusion it may be demonstrated that there is a faculty
within certain men which informs them not merely of what is
right or wrong, but what is inexpensive, what is pleasant, or
what is correct. Summing up the conclusions concerning this
faculty, we may advance the generalisation that conscience as
such implies "familiar activity", and that whatever class of
facts is familiar to an individual gives rise to a special con-
science. Equally so with such terms as ought, duty, respon-
sibility, praise and blame, merit and demerit, good and bad:
these may each be shown to apply outside of what is strictly
called the realm of ethics. The expression "You ought to do
this", for instance, which appears to mean "If you are a certain
kind of person (a good man, a bad man, an artist, a man of wit,
a physicist), you will do this", may be applied equally — and is
so applied, as daily experience illustrates — to moral, immoral,
and non-moral actions. Indeed, where doubt is excluded, the
word "ought" is inapplicable. To the good man we say "We
know you respect your mother", and to the bad man "We know
you do not respect your mother". To the former it would be
an insult to say "You ought to respect your mother", and to the
latter the word " ought " would lack all meaning on the moral plane.

The extension of the law that heat transforms work, but is
not lost, into the general law of the conservation of energy,
or that heat, light, and electricity, or various senses, have im-
portant properties in common, offer further apposite illustrations.
Finally, an application of this Sub-Conclusion is to be discerned
in Madame Montessori's educational method. Observing that
she could prepare defective children so well scholastically that
they equalled average children of the same age in their in-
tellectual attainments, she reasoned that the application. of the
same methods, appropriately modified for average children,
would correspondingly raise the educative capacity of the latter.
This Sub-Conclusion refers to lateral rather than to vertical
generalisations, to extending a proposition to more or less nearly
related facts which have not been considered as closely related
in respect of the particular item or items;1 indeed, the Sub-

1 Huxley's famous essay on "The Relation of Man to the Lower Animals"
confines itself to a line of argument in conformity with this Conclusion.

23*

356 PART V.— WORKING STAGE.

Conclusion bids us keep our eyes wide open, prepared for
encountering resemblances in the most unexpected haunts. The
present Sub-Conclusion may be also utilised for arriving at the
largest number of independent propositions within any topic
(see Conclusion 22), and should be utilised for the supremely
important object of connecting one science with another, and
passing from theory to practice and from pure to applied science,
backwards and forwards.

CONCLUSION 28.

Need of Proceeding Dialectically, /. e., need of Searching in con-
nection with any Conclusion for what is Contradictory, Contrary,
Opposite, Common, Disparate, Dependent, Interdependent, Sup-
plementary, Alternative, Complementary, and Relative.

§ 180. (a) CONTRADICTORY.— For the purpose of checking,
verifying, or extending our generalisations, we should be ever
actively seeking the Contradictory, or the negativing of the
conclusion which we have provisionally or finally arrived at.
This being our goal, we must be eagerly watching for facts
which should aid us in placing the short particle "not" before
the predicate of the proposition which we have reached.1 E.g.,
we convert the proposition "All men are born depraved" into
the other "All men are not born depraved", and examine into
the truth of the formally modified statement. Or when we meet
the assertion that senile decay as such is due to arterial sclerosis,
we reflect that sundry living beings have no arteries and yet
are subject to senile decay. Thus also reflexes cannot be de-
pendent on nerves as such since tropisms exist among animals
which have no nerves ; unequal density in gases can be proved
to be unnecessary for diffusion by connecting together two
vessels containing gases having the same density, and noting
the result; vegetable oils and lard may be inferred to be in-
ferior in nutritive value to milk, cream, butter, and cod-liver

He sums up his reasoning in the following sentence: "Whatever systems
of organs be studied, the comparison of their modifications in the ape series
leads to one and the same result — that the structural differences which
separate Man from the Gorilla and the Chimpanzee are not so great as those
which separate the Gorilla from the lower Apes". (Man's Place in Nature,
1909, p. 71.)

1 Chinese moral philosophy illustrates the different views relating to
man's moral nature. Confucius and Mencius held that man is born good.
Kao declared that righteousness can only be got out of man if we train
him properly. Hsun Tzu argued that the nature of man at birth is positively
evil. Yang Hsiung contended that the nature of man at birth is neither
wholly good nor wholly evil, but a mixture of both. Yan Han Yu asserted
that the nature of man is not uniform, but is divided into three grades—
namely, highest, middle, and lowest. (Herbert A. Giles, The Civilisation of
China, 1911.) To this we might add that only the perfect truly satisfies
man, but that he may nevertheless be drilled into indifference or hostility
to the good.

SECTION 23.— GENERALISATION. 357

oil, from the experience that the former, being less expensive,
are yet neglected in favour of the latter; typically forced
movements in animals are not necessarily accompanied by pain
or pleasure, for typically forced movements in human beings
are not always accompanied by pleasure or pain ; when animals
move from the shade to the light, it is not because they "prefer"
the latter, for they will do the reverse, if they can thus remain
oriented with their heads towards the source of light (Loeb);
if certain fish tend to swim against the current, this is not due
to the friction of the water, for if the fish be placed inside a
bottle and the bottle be dragged through the water, there will
be an identical reaction, and the same is proved by either
darkness or blindness supervening, for then the fish becomes
indifferent to the current. If we hear the Western peoples
confidently spoken of as of Aryan, Caucasian, or European
descent, we provisionally call into question the correctness of
the popular doctrine, and we proceed similarly when we hear
it affirmed that the Caucasian race is a separate race, that it
is wholly or relatively free from racial admixture, or that it
stands inherently higher than other races. Prejudice being an
active force in weaving and controlling theories, it is specially
important to challenge, and subsequently to scrutinise, the
soundness of any statement where sex, race, nationality, class,
religion, custom, economic considerations, and political party
are in dispute.

§ 181. (b) CONTRARY.— Similarly with the term Contrary,
which we also employ in its ordinary logical acceptation. Here
we seek to cancel a statement by placing, if possible, a "no"
before the subject, as "All men are born depraved", "No man
is born depraved". Interest in evolving such negations should
be habitual, if only to prove an assertion unassailable, although
it will be found surprisingly often that either the contradictory
or the contrary of a proposition can be substantiated. The
double interest in affirmation and negation will also prevent
psychical prejudice from developing. The contradictory entails
a qualified denial ; the contrary a flat denial. Naturally, whilst
demonstrating that the contrary has sometimes far-reaching
and startling consequences, it is not probable that we can main-
tain it as frequently as the contradictory. When, however,
two nations, for instance, are at war, it is well to assume, until
adequate proof is forthcoming, that all grave accusations by
one side or the other, are presumably altogether baseless.1
(See Conclusion 19/72.) So, too, the facts of primitive magic and
medicine are most profitably investigated by supposing the

1 This passage was written prior to the World War. In this war, for ex-
ample, the communiques of each of the opposing Combatants referred almost
exclusively to their own successes and to the failures of the enemy, the
interpretation of failure and success being frequently casuistical in the
extreme.

358 PART V.— WORKING STAGE.

complete erroneousness of the theories, except on the subjective
side. Religious "truths", which imply interference with the
order of nature, or a pre-established harmony which ensures
the triumph of the good irrespective of human effort, may
tentatively fall within the same category of treatment. Again,
it has been shown that the Jewish nose is, from the racial
standpoint, a distinctly unjewish characteristic, due, according
to von Luschan, to intermixture with the Hittites. Helmholtz
ascribed a certain important function to the organ of Corti, but
when it was pointed out to him that birds were without it, he
abandoned this theory, which supports by the way the crucial
significance of the comparative and genetic methods in the
biological sciences. In all cases naturally, where the contrary
is proven, we should satisfactorily trace the origin of the belief.
Psychological factors, determined by strong interests and a con-
fused apprehension of the world of fact, will be found to ex-
plain many prevalent errors.

§ 182. (c) OPPOSITE.— In formal logic we cannot pass
beyond the contrary, that is, when we have stated that no man
is born naturally depraved, we have reached the outer limits.
However, the true and concrete contrary, which we have named
the Opposite, affirms the "opposite", where one can be pre-
dicated. The opposite of "All men are born depraved" is "All
men are born good". If it be contended, for instance, that civilisa-
tion originated in the West, or that Eastern civilisation proceeds
from a strain of Occidental blood in Oriental peoples, we may, con-
sidering the evidence, speciously argue that civilisation originated
in the East and that Western civilisation is the result of an
Oriental strain of blood in Occidental peoples. In this example,
both statements may be crudely correct, the explanation being
probably that a mixture of civilisations and of races is uni-
versally present and universally beneficial. Thus also, whilst free
oxygen is indispensable most generally to living beings, certain
microbes die when exposed to it; "one by one the instances of
anomalous vapour density, which were so many stumbling blocks
to the universal acceptance of a system based upon the law of
gaseous volumes, have been shown to be not only not inconsistent
with it, but actually so many corroborative proofs" (Thorpe,
op. cit., vol. 2, p. 53); in some cases increase of temperature
appears to lead to diminished solubility; water, just before
freezing, expands; and a dose, according to its size, may cure
or kill.. Following the Mendelian theory,1 the same reasoning
is applicable to Darwin's contention that small variations in
offspring form the foundation of evolutionary transmutations.
Again, Darwinians had maintained that only congenital dif-
ferences could explain the conspicuous cultural differences
existing between human groups and individuals. Applying this

1 Hugo de Vries, The Mutation Theory, 1910, 1911.

SECTION 23— GENERALISATION. 359

Sub-Conclusion, we discern that since animal groups and in-
dividuals virtually do not vary so far as cultural characteristics
are concerned, human groups and individuals should likewise
be assumed virtually not to vary congenitally in this respect.
Consequently, instead of the theory of natural selection ex-
pressly demanding that human groups and individuals should
markedly vary, we discover that it expressly demands they
should remain unaltered. Similarly the theory of radio-acti-
vity suggests now that instead of the earth gradually cooling,
as was surmised until recently, it is most probably growing
hotter. Astronomy harbours such a contradiction. "The moon
at its rising and setting appears much larger than when high
up in the sky. This is, however, a mere erroneous judgment ;
for when we come to measure its diameter, so far from finding
our conclusion borne out by fact, we actually find it to measure
materially less." (Herschel, Discourse, [72.].)

§ 183. (d} and (e) COMMON AND DISPARATE.- A. double
aspect should also be recognised: there may be no incompati-
bility between the principle of relativity and the law of the
propagation of light; nitrifying organisms abstract nitrogen
from the air, but certain bacteria reverse the process; certain
animals may be at one time positively, and at another time
negatively, heliotropic ; defects or virtues in one civilisation may
be present also in another ("six of the one and half a dozen of
the other", says the accepted proverb); an unfavourable rate
of exchange discourages buying and a favourable one selling;
some States succeed in one way, and some in an opposite or
different way, in dealing with certain social problems; certain
culturally backward peoples possess certain simian characteristics
which Europeans are without, but Europeans have other simian
characteristics which culturally backward peoples do not possess ;
bracing winds build up one man's constitution, wreck another
man's, and leave a third man's constitution unaffected ; excite-
ment now benefits and now injures a person; not only may
fatigue be induced by injecting into an animal the toxin pro-
duced by fatigue, but possibly fatigue may be removed by
introducing the complementary anti-toxin; binocular vision com-
monly emphasises the third dimension, yet monocular vision
sometimes exercises the same effect, as looking at a good land-
scape picture with one eye closed; the plants which abstract
carbonic acid from the air, also abstract oxygen; the earth
attracts the unsupported stone, but the stone also attracts the
earth ; two unrelated individuals bear the same name ; owing
to unequal digestibility, a certain food of a higher nutritive
value may be less nutritious than a certain other food of a
lower nutritive value. If it be argued that social life betokens
a sign of superiority and of advantage in the evolutionary
struggle, we may reason as follows: "We are naturally much
impressed by the habits of social bees, but we may notice that

360 PART V.— WORKING STAGE.

the solitary wasp, for instance, is not less remarkable in its
'instincts' than the social wasp. If the social parrot is an
advanced bird, the social duck and many other social birds
compare unfavourably with the solitary birds. If the beaver has
a remarkably complex activity (in which, however, we detect
no intelligence), the social deer or buffalo has not. The highest
non-human animal, the anthropoid ape, is not a social animal; in
fact, the more socially inclined gibbon or gorilla is less intelligent
than the less socially inclined chimpanzee or orang." (Joseph
McCabe, The Principles of Evolution, 1913, p. 66.) In the same
way with protective colouring: "In regard to the Arctic animals
we find that dark animals are more common than white. Of the
Arctic mammals three are perpetually white, five changing with
the season, and ten are coloured ; the birds show about the same
proportion. This objection might be weakened, perhaps, by a
more precise indication which of these animals are settled, or
have long been settled, in regions of perpetual snow, by setting
aside the aquatic mammals (walrus, whale, etc.), and by studying
the value of protection in each case. Yet a difficulty remains
when we find that only one goose out of many in the Arctic zone
is white, one seal out of many in the Antarctic is white, and the
Arctic fox is both white, coloured, and variable in different
species." (Ibid., p. 119.) Or if we sarcastically expatiate on
the ambitions, foibles, or masterfulness of a competitor, we may
profitably ask ourselves how far we see our own reflection in his
feelings and actions. Again, blankets preserve heat as well as
cold, and exposure acts similarly on hot and cold objects.

§ 184. (/) and (g) DEPENDENCE AND INTERDEPEND-
ENCE.—}? acts tacitly conceived of as independent, should be
tested in regard to whether they are dependent on one another,,
as growth on the accessory food factors, or mother's milk on
the food eaten by the mother; and, if dependent, as to which
is cause and which is effect.

Furthermore, series of facts should be also studied with a
view to ascertaining whether they are interdependent — as in
double stars; in the gaseous laws of Boyle, Dalton, and Gay-
Lussac ; in the relation of temperature to pressure ; in the lique-
faction of gases; in seemingly unrelated neighbouring plants;
or in the main aspects of mind.

§ 185. (h) SUPPLEMENTARY.— We should, of course, beware
of positing one cause or fact when research might reveal a
number. § 155 deals specifically with this problem of en-
deavouring to supplement what is given. Thus our patent foods
are said to be seriously deficient in the three accessory food
factors ; metals are, generally speaking, lustrous, ductile, malle-
able, insoluble, fusible, and conduct electricity ; the alpha, beta,
and gamma "forms of radiation render gases electrically con-
ductive, excite luminescence or fluorescence in certain sub-
stances, change the colour of glass, convert oxygen into ozone

SECTION 23— GENERALISATION. 361

and yellow phosphorus into red phosphorus, and act upon photo-
graphic plates" (Thorpe, op. czY., vol. 2, p. 42), and "the mean
velocity with which the molecules of a gas move can be cal-
culated if we know the pressure it exerts, the weight of a
definite volume, and the value of the acceleration due to gra-
vity" (ibid., p. 71).

Thus climatic changes, migrations, novel classes of food,
physiological adaptation, sexual selection, segregation, and other
factors, may severally be responsible for the trend of evolution,
as colouring in animate beings may be due to mimicry, or to
the value of protection, warning, and attractiveness combined;
the cause of criminality may be manifold — exceptional tempta-
tion, bad companions, economic circumstances, faulty upbringing,
imperfect or no schooling, lack of vocation, unemployment,
alcoholism, poor health, and inferior intelligence; again, moral
conduct should be distinguished by all, rather than by one or
a few of, the powers of the mind being utilised, whilst only
he should be regarded as truly cultured who has highly de-
veloped all sides of his distinctive humanity, and not only some
sides; and that a subject or object should only be esteemed
adequately examined when every important relevant aspect is
taken into consideration. Again, reproduction is effected by
fission, budding, regeneration, hermaphroditism, and bisexually ;
and numerous elements have been gradually discovered in
the bodily constitutions — carbon, hydrogen, oxygen, nitrogen,
sulphur, phosphorus, iron, sodium, potassium, calcium, mag-
nesium, chlorine, iodine, fluorine, silicon, and lithium. So,
too, climate should be conceived as dependent on proximity to
sea and mountains, position in regard to prevailing winds,
forests, deserts, watersheds, altitude, latitude, and configura-
tion and soil of a district, whilst the agents of denudation
should include, at least, rain, rivers, ice, frost, heat, the sea,
and wind.

Accidents in factories are largely due to unprotected and in-
efficient plant ; to inexperienced, new, and ill-trained men ; to
bad tools and tools in bad condition ; and, of course, to fatigue,
indisposition, and carelessness. Types of men may be classed
as mental and manual, settled and roving, indoor and outdoor,
directive and dependent, minute and comprehensive, adapt-
able or self-satisfied, deliberate and impulsive, static and
dynamic. In fatigue we have to consider the draining of
energy, the accumulation of waste products, and the exhaustion
of nerves and of the central nervous system. The tests for
fatigue, again, are measurement of reaction time, of acuity
of sight and hearing, and of blood pressure. "Matter, what-
ever its origin, cannot be pronounced alive unless it is capable
of assimilating the unlike, of producing anti-bodies, of re-
producing itself, and of undergoing spontaneously a certain
degree of morphological differentiation." (D. Fraser Harris,

362

PART V.— WORKING STAGE.

"The Specific Characteristics of Vitality", in Science Progress,
April, 1916.)

The search for plurality of causes falls under this heading.
In all genuine scientific research supplementary classes of facts
and factors are hence continually being searched for and dis-
covered.

§ 186. (0 ALTERNATIVES.— We must equally allow for
alternatives ; a certain gas may be a new element with atomic
weight 3, or it may be an unsuspected allotropic form of hydro-
gen, Hs ; the accessory food factors may prove to be essential
structural components of living tissues, or act as necessary
catalysts; in weak light an organism may be positively helio-
tropic, in stronger light indifferent, and in strong light nega-
tively heliotropic; the ground of punishment may be expiation,
retribution, deterrence, or reformation; or a person convicted
may have the option between imprisonment and paying a fine.
Alternatives repeatedly remain unsuspected: "There were two
hypotheses to account for the existence of the great terraces
called benches, or parallel roads, of Glen Roy, in Scotland".
Of the two hypotheses — marine or lake origin — Darwin decided
for the former ; but the later and real explanation proved them
to be of glacial origin. "My error [Darwin said] has been a
good lesson to me never to trust in science to the principle of
exclusion." (Frank Cramer, op. czY., pp. 43, 45.)

§ 187. (y) COMPLEMENTARY.— We should endeavour to
ascertain whether a conclusion does not suggest an opposite
conclusion, and then discover whether the two conclusions are
not complementary. This will be found to be the case wherever
there is interdependence and interaction, as in the relation
of neighbouring plants, animals, social groups, ideational com-
plexes, and inanimate substances, or in the universal instance
of action and reaction.

§ 188. (K) RELATIVE.— Formal logic deals with extremes,
and we should also, in a sense, aim at extremes, that is, at
rounded and definite statements. At the same time relative
results or particular propositions should be welcomed. "Some
men are, or have been, to some extent, born partly good and
partly depraved", "some men will be born very good ", and all
possible intermediate stages should be conceived as alternatives,
between no exception at all to no order at all. Herbert Spencer
reasoned in his First Principles that since there was a likeli-
hood that the religion of the past embodied a verity, there-
fore religions will always remain. In arguing thus he in-
advertently overlooked the logical fact that religion might have
served a useful and even noble object in the past, but may in
the course of time lose its value, as is abundantly true of many
ancient and present social institutions. Absolute statements
should be only aimed at in the final conclusion. Besides, if
the application of this elevenfold Conclusion brings to light

SECTION 24 —VERIFICATION AND PROOF. 363

new particulars or generalisations, instead of supporting or
negativing old ones, the gain is equally real.

The following may serve as a model, for practice or for general appli-
cation, of this and the last Conclusion. Point of departure: "Every dog
has his day." Elaboration: Every dog has not his day; No dog has his
day; Every day has its dog; Every dog has its day and every day its dog,
and every dog has its day as well as its doom, etc. ; Every dog has its
day, but not every day its dog ; Every dog has his many days ; One dog
may have his day and another his hour ; Every dog depends on his day ;
Every dog depends on his day, and every day on its dog; Every dog acts
on, and reacts to, his day; Some dogs have their day, their hour, their
week, sometimes, somewhere, somehow; Some poodles, some newfound-
lands, . . . have their day; some cats, some bees, some oaks, some rivers,
have their day; Only one thing has its moment; All things have their
eternity ; Every dog has his bone, etc., etc.

§ 189. In all the Sub-Conclusions mentioned above — from
(a) to (k) — we assume that given any conclusion provisionally
arrived at, we deliberately seek for what is contradictory, con-
trary, opposite, common, disparate, dependent, interdependent,
supplementary, alternative, complementary, and relative.

The almost total disregard of this and the preceding Con-
clusion is the normal and cardinal defect of most investigations.
These two Conclusions, which are neither abstruse nor re-
condite, should receive, therefore, particular attention, and be
applied constructively by investigators and destructively by
their critics. Their rigorous and fruitful application is, of
course, almost impossible when many statements are advanced,
and it is hence essential for thinkers to be well informed in'
regard to facts, to set their faces against bias and dogmatising,
to be in constant consultation with others, and to write little.

SECTION XXIV.— VERIFICATION AND PROOF.

CONCLUSION 29.
Need of Verifying and Proving all Conjectures.

§ 190. A generalisation remains intrinsically a hypothesis
until it is verified. Accordingly its scientific value becomes
apparent only when, through the act of verification, it has shed
its hypothetical character. For this reason we shall now con-
cern ourselves with the process of verification, which process,
of course, is not confined to the verification of hypothetical
generalisations.

The lowest form of verification is that of ascertaining whether
we have correctly observed a particular fact. Well-trained
observers can largely dispense with this form. (§ 124.) Since,
however, it is always probable, especially with the majority of
investigators, that something has been incorrectly apprehended,
this form of verification should not be neglected. Such veri-

364 PART V.— WORKING STAGE.

fication, however, is not equivalent to re-examining the facts,
for in the latter case we strive to augment, rather than to
revise, our information.

In generalising we pass beyond the scrutinised facts, and,
therefore, unless we are, for instance, concerned with a chemi-
cal element or a kinetic problem, where the part fitly represents
the whole (Section XIII), it is necessary to test the correctness
of the generalisation. Wherefore, if we should surmise that
a low state of civilisation argues invariably a more poorly
endowed race, we are bound to apply every manner of test,
especially Conclusion 28, to ensure that we are not mistaken,
for possibly other explanations may more satisfactorily interpret
the known facts. Without verification, generalisations remain
hypotheses which, as a broad rule, are more likely to prove
erroneous than true.

It is the same with deduction. A deduction may be made
for the purpose of verifying a hypothesis or in order to ex-
tend knowledge, as when we infer the existence of positive
electricity from the existence of what is called negative electri-
city, or posit the ether in order to avoid the problem of action
across empty space, or argue for the materiality of the ether
from the fact that light and other forces are transmitted through
it at a quite definite rate (as sound through air which is indubit-
ably material), or seek to prove the double generalisation that
transparent solids are good insulators and metals and good con-
ductors opaque by ascertaining the truth of the inference that
then the transparent film of a metal would have lost its con-
ductivity. In both connections, the process of reasoning should
be tested in regard to their correctness, and the facts should
be examined in either case, inasmuch as the hypothesis or the
deduction may be unwarranted.

Lastly, where the memory, the imagination, and the processes
of reasoning are concerned, the like need for verification mani-
festly exists.

Given, then, the universal need for verification, we can only
add that its methods are those of observation or meticulous
scrutiny, as enumerated in Conclusions 16 to 24. Casual or par-
tial verification is, if possible, even less admissible than casual
or partial observation.

In Section XIV and Conclusions 8, 19, and 20, and in other
places, special expedients for verifying or testing facts have
been recited, and to these we would refer the student. We
require, then, tests, dealing with science as a whole, with special
classes of sciences, with particular sciences and with individual
portions of particular sciences, and with particular enquiries.
None of these can be dispensed with.

For the sake of completeness we may indicate some of the
lines along which proof of an assertion may be conveniently
sought. Direct proof may be obtained by (a) simple and

SECTION 24.- VERIFICATION AND PROOF. 365

instrumental observation and scrutiny; (b) simple and instru-
mental experiment; (c) enumeration, measurement, and calcula-
tion; (d) obvious or involved deductive testing; (e) confirmation
of a prediction by discovering its basis or awaiting its fulfil-
ment ; (/) special tests, such as are commonly applied or other-
wise prove effective; and (g) applying all or more than one
of the above methods. Indirect proof, especially referring to
causes, may be obtained by noting in a virtually interminable
series of cases drawn from exhaustively varied sources and
circumstances, (a) invariable agreement, (b) invariable difference,
(c) invariable concomitant variation, (d) invariable residue, and
(e) applying, in any particular case, several or all of these
methods in conjunction, as in Bacon's method of investigation.
The dialectical procedure recommended in Conclusion 28 should
be also applied, and, failing complete proof, the degree of proof
should be stated. In respect of the matter of the proof, no-
thing short of ascertaining the unmistakably precise static or
dynamic constituents (mechanical, ethereological, physical, chemi-
cal, crystalline, biological, and cultural) should be aimed at, or,
if this cannot be satisfactorily achieved, the degree of com-
pleteness of the apparent proof needs to be recorded.

To verify a fact is not necessarily to explain it, e.gr., we
possess much verified knowledge concerning the law of gravi-
tation; but few scholars are satisfied that the law is an ex-
planation of the facts. Yet a particular fact is for all intents
and purposes explained when it can be shown to be in agree-
ment with some established fact more general than itself.1
Consequently, the student should strive not only to establish
comprehensive laws of nature, but to prove given statements
by producing satisfactory evidence that they are special cases
of an acknowledged general fact. This is the ideal to be
aspired to; but, as we saw earlier, large working hypotheses,
and any kind of established propositions, may be utilised in
proving or explaining given facts. In other words, we should
first seek to verify, and then to explain, facts. We should,
however, remember that accord with theory is only to be
regarded as complete proof if no other theory is admissible
which would equally well or better explain an order of facts.

1 "An individual fact is said to be explained by pointing out its cause,
that is, by stating the law or laws of causation of which its production is
an instance. Thus a conflagration is explained when it is proved to have
arisen from a spark falling into the midst of a heap of combustibles; and,
in a similar manner, a law of uniformity in nature is said to be explained
when another law or laws are pointed out, of which that law itself is but
a case, and from which it could be deduced." (Mill, Logic, bk. 3, ch. 12, § 1.)

"The truth of a given proposition is finally to be proved only by showing
that it is not inconsistent with any other propositions which we profess to
hold as certain." (J. M. Robertson, Letters on Reasoning, 1905, p. 237.)

366 PART V— WORKING STAGE.

SECTION XXV.— INTERIM STATEMENT.

CONCLUSION 30.

Need of Exhausting and Gradually Consolidating Lines of In-
ductive Enquiry and of Aiming at a Balanced Interim Statement.

§ 191. (A) EXHAUSTING LINES OF INDUCTIVE EN-
QUIRY.—We reach now a more general and self-explanatory
Conclusion. Not only should we seek to exhaust classes of
relevant facts and the conditions under which they subsist;
but we should, as far as possible, solidly exhaust every line,
whatever direction it takes within that enquiry. Under this
heading fall especially the filling in of the interstices between
one generalisation and another, the connecting of generali-
sations, the extending a generalisation to the furthest limits,
and testing and extending by deductive procedure. Any in-
ferences or processes of reasoning ought to be also exhausted.
In short, when the final conclusion is established, the problem,
except for disguised, unimportant, and extraneous implications,
should have been, for all intents and purposes, dealt with as
far as possible exhaustively.1

§ 192. (B) CONSOLIDATING LINES OF INDUCTIVE EN-
QUIRY.— The progress of an investigation cannot be ordinarily
compared to a straight line, e.g., first observing an object, then
ranging this into a class, and ultimately forming ever larger
classes, and drawing inferences. On the contrary, an investiga-
tion needs to proceed simultaneously in sundry directions. For
instance, wishing to make a study of the nature of the sensa-
tions, I begin to collect the facts relating to the special senses.
I also seek for their mode of development, for their connection,
for their possible unity, for their relation to the memory, and
so on. How such series of facts are to be linked is not usually
manifest at first sight. Consequently, as the enquiry proceeds,
tentative attempts are periodically instituted to consolidate it,
and this process is repeated with the progress of the investiga-
tion, until the totality of the results are as nearly as possible
revealed. This does not signify a mechanical consolidation, but
a series of rearrangements out of which many suggestions arise
for novel lines of investigation. Especially as the general prob-
lem approaches solution, will consolidation prove of consequence,
and the final attempts may lead to the discovery of much which
was unanticipated. This is admirably illustrated in the very
gradually and very indirectly obtained gaseous laws of Boyle,
Dalton, Gay-Lussac, Avogadro, and Graham, which now tend
to be explained by the single hypothesis that a gas represents

1 "An investigation, by stopping short of exhaustion of the field, may
lead, not only to imperfect, but to false, conclusions." (Frank Cramer,
op. cit., p. 198.)

SECTION 25. -INTERIM STATEMENT. 367

a mass of molecules which move intermittently and with extra-
ordinary swiftness.

§ 193. (C) BALANCED INTERIM STATEMENT.— The
ideal consummation of an enquiry would be to satisfy fairly
the requirements of the table of Primary Categories. The
enquiry would lay bare the broadest general facts or leading
differentiae relating to the phenomenon, together with its more
important subsidiary laws or secondary aspects. lit would yield
the precise static and dynamic constituents, as well as the
causal connections and the relevant accompanying phenomena.
It would determine the precise degree and nature of the pheno-
menon's chief resemblances to other phenomena, the compara-
tive position occupied among related phenomena, and would
irreproachably classify, and subordinate to larger generalisations,
the facts and conclusions arrived at. The final statement, as
distinct from the interim statement, should also allow for the
precise utilisation, application, reproduction, value, quality,
appreciation, and, if possible, desire, liking, preference, love,
and enjoyment of the phenomenon. Furthermore, the principal
modal aspects of the phenomenon relative to quantity, time,
space, consciousness, degree, state, change, and personal equa-
tion, should be furnished. Should such a consummation be
unattainable, we ought yet to provide that an enquiry, when
concluded, approaches this ideal as nearly as circumstances
permit.

We will venture on an illustration. Let the subject of the
enquiry be the nature of bodily pain. We may reach the con-
clusion that the so-called sensation of pain is not the pain itself,
that pain (or pleasure) is not the invariable motive of action;
that men shun acute pain and therefore poverty and misery
which engender it; that we do not and cannot as a rule sum
or remember pain, and that some persons are more susceptible
than others to pain. If these conclusions alone are established,
we ought frankly to confess that we only offer a miscellaneous
assortment of important statements which do not inform us as
to the nature of bodily pain.

A balanced final statement, free from marginal reasoning,
would, initially, contain the solution of the central problem—
that is, in this connection, inform us concerning the nature or
fundamental differentia of bodily pain. It might assert the
existence of (a) appreciable injury, direct or indirect, to some
portion of the sensitive parts of the body; (b) sensations aris-
ing out of that injury; (c) a simultaneous central nervous
disturbance at first exciting and then depressing, leading to
(d) instinctive or deliberate attempts, or to both, to allay the
disturbance or to remove its cause. Now inasmuch as an injury,
and the sensations connected therewith, may normally exist
without involving pain (as when we fix the attention sharply
on the persisting sensation), these cannot be the pain, and since

368 PART V— WORKING STAGE.

the allaying or removal are subsequent, therefore the exciting
or depressing nervous disturbance, it seems, must be the pain,
provided no factor or effect has been overlooked. Granting
(c) to be a justifiable assumption, which is problematical,1 we
then marshal connectedly the most important apposite facts
as required by the table of Primary Categories, including, e.g.,
the special facts relating to the universality, calculability, vari-
ability, degree, recollection, influence, fear, defiance, suppres-
sibility or otherwise, of physical and other pain. If we then
strictly, circumscribed or fused pain and pleasure, demonstrated
the relation in which the two stand to each other, and their
relation to other main facts of mind, including preferably their
relation to action and reflection generally, our task would be
truly concluded. Nothing less than a systematic approach to
such a balanced conclusion, expressed in a tersely worded defini-
tion where the central facts are all in the focus and are arranged
in an intrinsically articulated manner, should receive scientific
sanction. An interim statement of this character forms alone
a fit introduction to, and basis for, the process of systematic
deduction, a process which completes the process of generali-
sation, as it is itself completed by the process of application.
Having methodically ascertained all the features common to
every form and degree of the phenomenon investigated and
traceable in no other phenomenon (e.g., heat as a deter-
minate mode of motion), we ought to proceed methodically to
the last, but not the least, important step. This is to sum up
the inductive part of the investigation in a crisp and comprehen-
sive interim statement. Such a plan is easier conceived than
executed, and it is probably owing to this fact that here, as in
most other methodological directions, any kind of prolix, and
usually incomplete and imperfect, statement is preferred. If,
however, we consider the permanent and conspicuous advantage
of a fully adequate statement, the widely prevalent unmethod-
ical procedure to-day should no longer commend itself to circum-
spect thinkers. Moreover, since theoretical and practical de-
ductions might be necessary, such a form of statement is of
inestimable value and should be unconditionally demanded, if
for no other reason. The mathematical formulae and definitions,
so common in scientific work, are an excellent illustration of
the almost infinite superiority of strict definition over casual
summaries. How far definition and definiteness should be
resorted to beyond the purpose contemplated in the present
Conclusion, we shall see below. The question of a balanced
final statement, which also comprises the results of deduction
and application, will be dealt with in Conclusion 34.

1 In the lowliest forms of life repulsion and attraction are probably
automatic. In somewhat higher forms they are automatic, instinctive, fre-
quently accompanied by feeling, and modified by habit. In man they are
further affected by will, reflections and sentiments.

SECTION 26— DEDUCTION. 369

SECTION XXVI.— DEDUCTION.

CONCLUSION 31.

Need of Strenuous Mental Application in the Process of Deduc-
tion, and need of the Deductions being Graded, Comprehensive,
Important, Numerous, Full, Rational and Relevant, Original,
Automatically Initiated, and Methodically Developed.

§ 194. In generalising facts we seek for such similarities
as might lead us to formulate a truth larger than the facts we
set out with initially. In the descending or deductive method
we search also for resemblances, but of a more restricted order
than the point of departure of the deduction. In the former
process we begin normally with facts; in the latter invariably
with a statement.

Concurrently certain methodological differences between
generalisation and deduction require to be elucidated. Roughly
speaking, in generalising we mechanically affirm of a whole
class what we had observed in a section thereof. E.g., for the
word some, we place the word all. If we reversed the process,
and for the word all, placed the word some, and called this
deduction, we should be trifling in a serious matter. In the
first case, we should have a statement of some consequence;
in the second, one of no moment. Deduction, therefore, argues
a movement which is not methodologically self-evident, as is
the movement in generalisation. E.g., "Socrates is mortal",
is not a self-evident conclusion from "All men are mortal",
for "Plato is mortal", "The Phrygians are mortal", would have
been as appropriate. Whilst in generalising there is but one
step — from many particulars to one general; in deduction there
may be innumerable steps — from the one general to the many
particulars. Once more we see, therefore, that there is a
profound distinction between generalising and what we may
term particularising. At the same time we should note that in
the verifying of certain generalisations, we had to proceed de-
ductively, precisely as if our object were to elicit new truth
from an established generalisation. In this sense, deduction
may be regarded as an auxiliary process in the establishment of
a generalisation. Yet we should not exaggerate the difficulties
inherent in the deductive process. As in verifying an ordinary
generalisation we are greatly assisted by the thorough know-
ledge of our subject as a whole, so in deducing we depend to
a decisive degree on our intimate acquaintance with the body
of truths involved. Total ignorance would spell operating in
a mental vacuum.

There are at least two conditions controlling deductive proce-
dure. First, an induction may not be full, that is, only a general
statement accompanied by few particulars may have been
published ; in which case we may deduce the important statement

24

PART V.— WORKING STAGE.

involved in the general statement. E.g., the one who framed
it may not have been aware of all there is known concerning
the subject in question; he feels constrained to skip facts yet
undiscovered; or he may Judge it superfluous to attempt to
state in his work everything relevant to the problem treated of.
To furnish a concrete example, Darwin was necessarily com-
pelled to leave his statement relating to the evolution of species
so incomplete that thousands of men of science have been
engaged since helping to complete it. Secondly, a generalisation
may be comparatively full, but it may yet be further exploited
to enable us to bring to light secondary implications. E.g., a
psychological statement regarding the nature of attention may
exhaust all that might be asserted with profit psychologically,
yet such a statement might be usefully applied, for instance,
in aesthetics, in ethics, and in pedagogy.

The above two conditions may be fulfilled in the ensuing
ways:— (a) by continuing to proceed inductively, and (b) by
proceeding deductively.

(a) We seek to fill in the incomplete statement. We traverse
the ground passed over by the framer of the generalisation
and discover as many new and material statements as possible.
We similarly fit into the structure of the detailed generalisation
any freshly discovered facts. If only certain phases interest us,
as is commonly the case, we shall, of course, only re-traverse
the ground in the measure requisite for our purpose. Our
method, then, is to tread in the steps of the original investigator,
and, by exhausting all the methods of generalising procedure,
to supplement his work by appropriate minor generalisations.

(b) We seek to extend the statement to other spheres. E.g.,
we apply the laws of attention to pedagogy. In this process
we examine either (1) certain minor generalisations — (e.g., in
the major generalisation that man is a specio-psychic being,
we select the minor generalisation that scientific truth is a pan-
human product, and, regarding it in its turn as a major generali-
sation, we sedulously explore it) — and treat them for our
purposes as major generalisations which are to be probed, or
we take (2) the major generalisation and develop it in spheres
outside the particular section of science or beyond the science
itself, as the psychological law of attention in pedagogy. In (1)
we attempt what the inquirer would have essayed who had
made a study of the facts of how truth is produced or found,
save that we possess a guiding thought. That is, we examine
and ascertain the modes of discovering truths, and deduce a
series of important minor generalisations (which, in their turn,
can be treated as major generalisations). In (2) we apply most
especially the Conclusions relating to parallel instances, then
to degree, contradictory, contrary, opposite, etc., and proceed
as in (a). E.g., I examine all the instances where the attention
enters as a salient factor in aesthetics, or in any of the cultural

SECTION 26.—DED UCTION. 371

or specie-cultural sciences, with a view to discovering where
and to what extent attention enters as a factor.

In any relatively new subject of enquiry deduction plays at the
commencement a subordinate part inasmuch as any statements
then reached are almost certainly of practically no value and
therefore worse than profitless for deductive ends. Nevertheless,
we should test even then all our statements in a passing manner,
because some suggestive minor deductions may emerge. As the
investigation develops, and we reach more and more definite
conclusions which we express in the form of careful, though
provisional, definitions, deduction becomes increasingly important
since we can employ it more and more to test, and indirectly
to enrich, our conclusions. When the inductive enquiry is on
the point of being concluded and comprehensive definitions are
formulated, deduction assumes superlative importance, in that
it, on the one hand, probes to the depths the value of our results,
and, on the other, places us in a position to gather in a definite
form the main implications of our investigation. In Conclusion 13
we sought to illustrate this. We assumed there that we had
reached the conclusion that man alone is dependent on species-
produced thought, and from that we deduced twelve subsidiary
practical conclusions of capital import. Regarding one of these
conclusions as a fresh point of departure, we might deduce
from it an entire department of conduct. These secondary
conclusions are in great measure no doubt not novel to the
framer of the fundamental definition; but the definition, de-
ductively explored, reveals much that is new, tests everything
otherwise reached, ever suggests fresh truths and investigations,
and confers a rigidity and reasonableness on the main con-
clusion that no other method affords. Accordingly, generalisation
and deduction are in no sense processes which can be ad-
vantageously separated, especially when we consider that in
the process of deduction advantage should be taken, per contra,
to generalise as far as possible the statements deduced.1

§ 195. An apt illustration of deductive procedure is provided
by the solutions of some of the problems of temperature. From
observations in regard to the dependence of plant growth on a
relatively high temperature, the hothouse was gradually evolved.
Much later, analogous observations gave birth to the incubator.
The cognate problem of heat-retention in cooking suggested
the self-cooker and also certain appliances having for their
object the prevention of heat waste in the preliminary cooking

1 ''It is very important to observe, that the successful process of scientific
enquiry demands continually the alternate use of both the inductive and de-
ductive method. The path by which we rise to knowledge must be made
smooth and beaten in its lower steps, and often ascended and descended,
before we can scale our way to any eminence, much less climb to the summit.
The achievement is too great for a single effort; stations must be established,
and communications kept open with all below." (Herschel. Discourse, [184.].)

24*

372 PART V.— WORKING STAGE.

process itself. Profiting by scientific experience, the thermos
flask came into existence. And, on the other hand, ice storage,
and particularly cold storage and refrigeration, have been
realised on a gigantic scale. Similar applications have been
made in regard to the problem of preventing the appalling
waste of heat in furnaces, and also in open fire grates— from
80 to 92 per cent. So multiform, in fact, is the practical
temperature problem, that it might have with advantage an
international institute exclusively devoted to its solution. Con-
centrated attention to the principles involved, and systematic
deduction of the implications, could be pursued there with
enormous benefit to mankind. Without doubt, those concerned
in the kfndred problems of the most economical distribution
and use of fuel and the discovery of new sources of relatively
inexpensive heat and power supply, should also possess an
international habitation, and work in close co-operation with
the above institute.

Consider, again, a case in medicine. Somebody finds that
fruit acts as a strong laxative, or that the consuming of some
other substance induces decided stringency. From the symptoms
reported to him, the alert physician tentatively infers, condition-
ally and within limits, that these substances have probably an
analogous, though weaker, effect, even where there is no obvious
or direct sign thereof. Had he merely generalised, his con-
clusion would have been, as is evident, immensely more re-
stricted. Pursuing this method systematically, by generally
reasoning from conspicuous to inconspicuous cases — e.g., in
everything relating to food factors, nervousness, fresh air, exer-
cise, self-control, existence of certain diseases, etc. — he ratio-
nalises his art and makes numerous valuable discoveries. He
may proceed a step beyond. Returning to the first example,
he may seek to discover what ingredient in the fruit is mainly
responsible for the result noted. If successful in his search,
he infers that he need not proceed empirically, but that he may
find the laxative suitable for different circumstances, persons,
and ages, and obtainable in the most convenient and economical
form. He may also conditionally infer that if a certain property
exercises a certain laxative effect, the opposite property, if it
exists, will have a correspondingly astringent effect. Moreover,
he may infer that the states he is dealing with, are only in-
stances of more general, but obscured states, and draw appro-
priate conclusions. Needless to say, what is here done by the
physician, may be, with equal advantage, attempted in the arts,
crafts, and sciences generally.

§ 196. We shall offer a further explicit illustration of de-
ductive procedure. Suppose we accept the definition of ethics
submitted in § 110. We proceed then deductively: "Co-ope-
ration being the key-word of ethics, satisfaction of unclarified
desires, competition, and exploitation, in any and all spheres of

SECTION 26 —DEDUCTION. 373

life, are proved to be non-ethical or unethical. Nor is that
species of co-operation which entails antagonism to any one,
consonant with the plain meaning of co-operation. Furthermore,
since the term co-operation is restricted by no adjective, co-
operation should take place, as far as possible, between the
whole of mankind, and we need to aim at it in the family, in
economics and politics, in international affairs, in art and science,
and in daily life. Again, if co-operation is to be effective,
there should be, supplementary to an acquired fixed habit of
co-operation, the desire to co-operate, and if this is to exist,
co-operation must be capable, inter alia, of satisfying human
nature, both as to the object which it is to minister to and as
to itself. Since co-operation, moreover, represents by hypo-
thesis an irresistible historic growth or tendency, it can only
be alleged to prevail unchallenged when and where human
solidarity is completely established and rooted. Towards this
end men press since they desire co-operation, and so far as our
state of society falls short of the solidarity of mankind, so far
is it removed from the termination of the historic process.
However, since co-operation forms a historic growth, we shall
not be always able to act in conformity with our final ideal
as conceived to-day, though we should seek to satisfy it as far
as we can. Once more, since co-operation is a progressive
pan-human product, it follows that (a) as individuals we depend
primarily on the conclusions which mankind has arrived at,
and not primarily on our own experience and reasoning; hence
(b) our thought and character are determined by our cultural
environment primarily; consequently (c) we should aim at a
co-operatively developed science of methodology and ethics,
for of ourselves we know and effect virtually nothing; (d) we
should promote co-operation or ethical advance in all depart-
ments of life; and (e) we should, since the individual is far
from self-sufficient, be broad-minded, modest, and eager to learn
and serve, whilst putting forth the most strenuous efforts and
striving after the greatest originality in order to contribute our
full share to the common stock. Again, the definition implies
that co-operation should also constitute the characteristic method
of the inner life, and that a personal, social, and pan-human
life-ideal should replace action decided by more or less moment-
ary impulses and desires. Finally, by co-operation we mean
both (a) working together directly and (b) working together
indirectly, e.g., (1) writing a book in collaboration, and (2) dis-
seminating the ideas contained in a book written by some
one else.

§ 197. Hypotheses used to play a large part in the gene-
ralising process, that is, a man trusted that by reflecting over
a few facts known or surmised concerning a subject, the master
fact or facts would present themselves to his mind. This pro-
cedure is frequently indulged in in all walks of life, and, of

374 PART V.— WORKING STAGE.

course, not without a modicum of success, more especially
where the data are patent and admitted. If, then, guessing at
a generalisation has sometimes its reward, it is manifest that
deductive divination is much more likely to be crowned with
success, inasmuch as the generalisations or statements whereon
it is grounded, if the outcome of scientific labours, offer distinct
and reliable guidance. Yet both generalising and deductive
conjecturing represent a crude substitute for orderly scientific
procedure, and may be only rightfully employed where, for the
time being, the intricacies of the subject permit of no other
advance. Deductive procedure will, we believe, become im-
measurably more effective, when it is . guided by scientific
canons.1

Countless are the occasions when the most specious deductions prove
mistaken on examination. Here is a fascinating illustration: "A most inter-
esting and beautiful example of ... a rhythm dependent upon external
stimulation under normal conditions, but capable of becoming automatic
in the absence of the wonted stimulus, or its delayed arrival beyond the
accustomed time, is found in the case of the phosphorescent organisms
so abundant in our seas especially in the autumn months.

"It might be supposed at first thought that these phosphorescent or-
ganisms are not observed to emit light during the day because of the
presence of sunlight, and that, if taken into a dark room, such as is used
for photographic purposes, they would be found to phosphoresce just as
brilliantly as at night. Such is, however, not the case; not a spark can
be elicited from them even by vigorous shaking, so long as there is
daylight in the outer world. But if one stands by and watches in the
dark room, as twilight is falling outside, although the organisms have not
been exposed to light all day, one observes the little lamps light up and
flash out one by one like coruscating diamonds in the darkness, till the
whole dish is studded with flashing and disappearing light, a glorious
sight in the darkness and stillness.

" At daybreak, the series of changes are the reverse of those witnessed
at dusk; if the dish containing the organisms be observed in the dark
room about an hour before sunrise, it will be seen that at first the organ-
isms are still flashing out brilliantly, but about half an hour before sun-
rise, the number of flashes begins to diminish rapidly; at sunrise there
are hardly any showing, and half an hour later even violent stirring
will not produce a single sparkle. The most remarkable thing of all is
that this regular daily phasic action is kept up for as long as fourteen
days, by which time the organisms have perished in captivity. Regularly
every evening the lights come out, and as regularly every morning they
are extinguished, although all the intervening time the tiny living crea-
tures have been kept in darkness.

"A similar diurnal rhythm has been observed for shorter periods in
plant leaves which alter their position at day and night, when the plants
have been kept in darkness." (Benjamin Moore, op.cit., pp.250 — 252.)

§ 198. Hypothetical deductions are common in scientific
enquiries, and usually there is nothing preternatural about them.
We shall supply a few examples. Einstein states: "We know

1 An extreme example of reliance on deduction, with almost complete
exclusion of induction, is to be found in Malebranche's De la recherche de
la vfrite, more especially in the latter portion of the Second Part of "De
la methode".

SECTION 26— DEDUCTION. 375

with great exactness that this velocity [of light] is the same
for all colours, because if this were not the case, the minimum
of emission would not be observed simultaneously for different
colours during the eclipse of a fixed star by its dark neighbour."
(Relativity, 1920, p. 17.) Sir William Ramsay reasoned: "If
radium is disappearing, it must be continually in process of
formation, else there would be none on the surface of the
earth. ... As radium is always associated with uranium, it
appears not unreasonable to suppose that uranium, too, which
is a radio-active element, is slowly changing into radium."
(Essays Biographical and Chemical, p. 174.) Thorpe concluded:
"Experiments made by the method of Kundt and Warburg—
i.e., by determining the ratio of the specific heats at constant
pressure and constant volume by the velocity of sound in the
gas— prove that argon, like mercury gas, is monatomic. This
of itself indicates that argon is an element, since a monatomic
compound is a contradiction in terms." (Op. cit, vol. 2, p. 3^)
Professor Arrhenius argued: "If we calculate how much salt
there is in the sea, and how much salt the rivers can supply
to it in the course of the year, we arrive at the result that the
quantity of salt now stored in the ocean might have been
supplied in about a hundred million years." (Worlds in the
Making, 1908, p. 42.) Similarly Lord Kelvin disturbed the peace
of geologists and evolutionists by inferring from the rate at
which the earth's heat radiates into space that the age of the
solid earth is only about twenty million years, a deduction
which subsequently had to be drastically modified owing to
the discovery of radio-activity. Lord Lister cogitated thus : "If
putrefaction is always due to bacterial development, this must
apply as well to living as to dead tissues; hence the putre-
factive changes which oqcur in wounds and after operations
in the human subject, from which blood-poisoning so often
follows, might be absolutely prevented if the injured surface
could be kept free from access of the germ of decay." (H. S.
Williams, The Story of the Nineteenth Century, 1900.) Sir Ray
Lankester expresses himself as follows : "If, as seems probable,
the presence of helium indicates the previous presence of radium,
we have the evidence of enormous quantities of radium in the
sun, for we know helium is there in vast quantity. Not only
that, but inasmuch as helium has been discovered in most hot
springs and in various radio-active minerals in the earth, it
may be legitimately argued that no inconsiderable quantity of
radium is present in the earth." (The Kingdom of Man, p. 46.)
Lord Avebury declares: "If folded mountains are due to a
diminution of the diameter of the earth, every great circle
must have participated equally in the contraction." (The Scenery
of Switzerland, 1913, pp. 481-482.) E. W. McBride remarks :
"Since oxygen can only be taken into the living substance
and the poisonous excreta got rid of by the process of diffusion,

376 PART V— WORKING STAGE.

it follows that living substance can never be accumulated in
large masses, but can only exist in the form of small granules,
or of thin plates presenting relatively large surfaces to a cir-
cumambient fluid of some kind. . . . Since life is a fire, and
since this fire requires the constant diffusion of oxygen into
the living substance and of carbonic acid out of it, living sub-
stance must be a fluid, since only in fluids and gases can
diffusion exist." (Zoology, p. 20.) J. Arthur Thomson claims
that "if a portion of the germ plasma of a fertilised ovum is
preserved unchanged during development to form the rudiments
of the reproductive cells of the new organism, and if the germ-
plasma is as stable as Weismann makes out, then there is a
strong probability that no variations produced in the body by
use or disuse or by outside influences can be transmitted".
(Article "Heredity", in Chambers' Encyclopaedia, ed. 1908.)
Edison proceeds in the same manner: "If the indentations on
paper could be made to give forth again the click of the in-
strument, why could not the vibrations of a diaphragm be
recorded and similarly reproduced?" (Edison, as quoted in
Inventors at Work, by George lies, 1907, p. 311.)

And here is an illustration courteously supplied to the author
by Dr. Cecil Desch: "The success which attended the appli-
cation of the undulatory hypothesis to the explanation of light
led its supporters to follow out its consequences to their furthest
limits. It was found deductively, by mathematical reasoning,
that light must exert a minute pressure on a surface on which
it falls. The calculated pressure was so small that its measure-
ment appeared almost hopeless, but two very skilled investi-
gators succeeded in devising means for measuring it, and their
results have been confirmed by others. There is an interesting
consequence of this. The pressure on a particle due to light
is proportional to its surface. Imagine small particles exposed
to the sun, in free space. They are attracted by the gravi-
tational force of the sun, and repelled by the pressure exerted
by its light. The smaller they are, the greater is their surface
in proportion to their volume (or mass, if they are all alike).
Hence, at a certain limit of size, attraction and repulsion will
just balance one another, and still smaller particles will actually
be repelled from the sun instead of being attracted by it. Now,
there are spectroscopic reasons for saying that comets' tails
are composed of fine dust. The repulsion of such fine particles
by light falling on them explains perfectly why comets' tails
always point away from the sun."

Perhaps the most brilliant deductions recently made are those
by Einstein, resulting from his theory of relativity. From that
theory he inferred that the eccentric rotary movement of the
orbital ellipse of Mercury, which is 43 seconds of arc per cen-
tury, was not an exceptional, but an extreme case, the cor-
responding amount of rotation of the other planets being simply

SECTION 26— DEDUCTION. 377

too small to be detected with the delicacy of observation pos-
sible at the present day. Also, he calculated the magnitude of
the curvature of light rays passing the sun at grazing incidence
to be 17 seconds of -arc, which has been apparently confirmed
by observations recorded during the solar eclipse of 29th May,
1919. Finally, Einstein inferred from his theory "a displacement
of the spectral lines of light reaching us from large stars, as
compared with the corresponding lines for light produced in an
analogous manner terrestrially" (op. czY., pp. 103-104), with what
success remains yet to be seen.

§ 199. The extreme form of the deductive procedure, such
as Bacon condemned, is to venture on a bold conjecture and
to believe that the subsequent deductions will support or cancel
it. We have already dilated on the folly and the wastefulness
of this method. In scientific deduction we proceed from a
genuine hypothesis and endeavour to test it by noting its im-
plications. The first virtue, therefore, of a proper scientific
hypothesis about to be treated deductively is that it should be
in the form of an extremely definite statement, a statement
clothed, if possible, in mathematical garb; and, consequently,
the published inductive enquiry should not fail to contain such
a definite statement or statements. The inductive inquirer
must therefore pave the way for the deductive inquirer, and
deduction, like induction, should be regarded as a scientific
duty, which may not be neglected. Once the latter point is
admitted, a deductive code becomes a necessity, and it is prob-
able that this will demand that deductions, like observations
and generalisations, should be "graded, comprehensive, im-
portant, numerous, full, rational and relevant, original, auto-
matically initiated, and methodically developed".1 By insisting,
then, that the inductive process should prepare the way for
the process concerned with theoretical deductions, as that should
prepare the way for deductions of a practical character; that
deduction is an integral component part of the scientific process
of investigation; and by assimilating its methods to those of
the other chief portions of scientific procedure— observation and
generalisation, we round off our examination of the principal
methods employed in the sciences, we resist over-emphasis
or under-emphasis of any one of the principal methods, and
we secure an endless chain of investigations.

§ 200. In view of the difficulties ordinarily encountered in
deduction, it may seem extravagant to ask that the deductive
process should be governed by rules, as suggested in the head-
ing of this Conclusion. Yet, audacious as the proposal appears
at first sight, it may, we believe, be frequently realised to a
considerable extent. In asserting this, we are in a fair way
of robbing the process of its mystery and magic, and of ap-

1 For the full significance of these adjectives, see Conclusion 25.

378 PART V.— WORKING STAGE.

preaching the standpoint of Francis Bacon who had the temerity
of seeking, by the ladder of methodological rules,1 to raise the
mentality of the average man to the giddiest heights. To the
end of proving the reasonableness of automatically initiated and
methodically developed deductions, at least in certain cases,
we shall examine deductively the proposition "Culture is a
pan-human product".

For practical purposes, we shall assume the absolute truth
of the proposition, leaving it to him who makes the deductions
in the course of an enquiry to allow in each instance for the
corrections necessitated by special circumstances. Our aim will
be to show that by following certain methodological rules me-
chanically, appreciable headway may be made in rendering ex-
plicit the implications of a general proposition. Of course,
thorough acquaintance with the topic of the proposition is
presupposed.

The two terms of significance in the proposition are mani-
festly "culture" and "pan-human". Following Conclusion 19,
we commence at the beginning and analyse therefore the im-
plications of the first term, naturally in relation to the second.

1. As a first step, and in order to reduce complexity (Con-
clusion 20), we break up the word Culture into the principal
recognised types of culture — moral, intellectual, hygienic, and
aesthetic culture, but ignore, for simplicity sake, their inter-
relations.

Following the simplest practicable case (Conclusion 20), and
the Conclusion mentioned in the penultimate paragraph, we
shall deal below with moral culture alone, and envisage in the
first instance only the individual.

2. Moral culture is a pan-human product.

3. Given 2, it follows that, in identical external (i.e., non-
congenital) circumstances, the moral contribution of any one
individual to the existing moral treasure is equal to the total
moral treasure existing, divided by the number of human be-
ings who have lived and who are living.

4. This involves that whatever differences exist in matters
moral among individuals are due respectively to favourable
or unfavourable external circumstances.

5. This further suggests (Conclusion 20) that the profoundest
sage— a Socrates or a Buddha — and, for example, the most
benighted Australian aboriginal, would, but for varying ex-
ternal circumstances, make the same moral contribution to the
moral treasure of the world.

6. The existence of the lower extremes, mentioned in 5,
again involves that the actual direct moral contribution of a
Socrates or a Buddha is practically infinitesimal.

"My way of discovering sciences goes far to level men's wits, and leaves
but little to individual excellence, because it performs everything by the
surest rules and demonstrations." (Novum Organum, bk. 1, 122.)

SECTION 26.— DEDUCTION. 379

7. And this involves that the reputed moral contribution of
a Socrates or a Buddha consists, for all intents and purposes,
of a portion of that part of the collected store of moral wisdom
which was at his disposal in his circumstances.

8. And, further, that save for the collected store, other circum-
stances being equal, a Socrates or a Buddha would, according
to 3 and 5, exhibit a wholly inappreciable amount of moral
culture, below that of the most neglected Australian aboriginal.

9. Again. Applying 8 to our day, and taking any examples
of the two extremes, it would follow that, save for external
circumstances, the difference between the moral culture pos-
sessed by them would be indifferent.

10. Thinking now of the realm of practice according to Con-
clusion 31, and for this purpose assuming ideal circumstances,
in conformity with Conclusion 20, every individual might be a
Socrates or a Buddha, even greatly surpassing both in moral
excellence, and every individual might strive to resemble them.

11. Finally, to conclude with a definition according to Con-
clusion 15, from the preceding it follows that the unit of the
moral contribution of an individual may be measured approxi-
mately by the moral contribution of the culturally most neglected
individual of the most primitive community extant to-day or
historically recorded. Etc., etc.

If we choose, we may pursue our examination by breaking
up the word "moral" into the cardinal virtues Justice, Temper-
ance, Prudence, and Courage, and proceed, as above, first, for
instance, with the analysis of the term Justice.

We might then break up the word Justice, and proceed
with the first constituent as above.

Etc., etc.

Inspecting now our deduced propositions, we note that we
had deliberately dealt only with the individual. Following re-
cognised classifications, we systematically extend our deductions
to sex, family, class, stock, people, nation, sub-race, and race.

Culture being pan-human, we infer, then, that what we
affirmed of the individual in regard to his moral contribution,
holds, mutatis mutandis, of sexes, families, classes, stocks,
peoples, nations, and races. That is, each has congenially the
same status as its congeners.

Summing up, according to Conclusion 34, we may state that,
save for varying external circumstances, the moral, intellectual,
hygienic, aesthetic, and other cultural contributions of any one
individual, sex, family, class, stock, people, nation, sub-race,
and race are equal to those of any other individual, sex,
family, class, stock, people, nation, sub-race, and race, and the
highest conceivable condition of perfection is attainable by all,
and should be aimed at both individually and collectively, in
conformity with varying external circumstances.

Etc., etc., with the eleven points.

380 PART V.— WORKING STAGE.

Examining our deduced propositions again, we notice that
external circumstances play a vital part in the moral position
occupied by an individual, etc., for if moral culture is a pan-
human product, it must be absorbed from the environment
through some form of learning. These circumstances, we may
broadly define, following a classification already at hand, as
(a) individual circumstances, (6) special social circumstances
(e. g., the section of society specially interested in moral culture),
(c) general social circumstances, and (d) special and general
contemporary moral and social circumstances insofar as they
affect the individual, etc., directly or indirectly.

Should we be desirous of a fuller analysis of the factor of
circumstance, we bring to our aid the ampler list of the environ-
mental conditions contained in § 139.

1. To understand the moral position occupied by an indivi-
dual, etc., we should study the respective cultural effects of
the above conditions.

2. In proportion as the external circumstances are improved
or the reverse, so the moral position occupied by an indivi-
dual, etc., is improved or the reverse.

3. If we desire, and if it is our duty, to raise the moral
position occupied by an individual, etc., we should improve
the apposite external circumstances.

Having fairly exhausted the implications of the term "culture",
we turn to the term "pan-human", and develop the implications
as in the former case.

From our above examination we conclude that just as ob-
servation and generalisation can be methodically pursued, so
may deduction. There is no necessity to wait for inspiration,
for accident, or for need, before deducing the implications of
a proposition,^ and when accident or need raises a problem
connected with deduction, the new methodology requires that
the investigation shall be conducted, as far as possible, in
agreement with far-reaching canons which ensure the most
satisfactory and most exhaustive treatment — a treatment which,
like that involved in generalisation, leads to deductions which
are graded, comprehensive, important, numerous, full, rational
and relevant, original, automatically initiated, and methodically
developed.

§ 201. Deduction also occupies an important place in inter-
preting facts. The physician may admonish his patient: "Do
not cough more than you can help." Such an injunction may
serve its immediate purpose. If, however, he said, "Do not
encourage coughing; it may develop into a habit", his patient
would be helped to infer how he should act whenever he suf-
fered from a cough. If, finally, the physician had declared:
"Actions tend to become habits; gently resist the tendency to
cough", his' patient would possess a guide for life in countless
contingencies. The superiority of deduction 'for explanatory

SECTION 27.— APPLICATION. 381

needs, especially when the proposition is a comprehensive one,
is therefore manifest. To understand, accordingly, the prin-
ciples on which an instrument, a machine, a living body, or
an ideational complex is constructed, is to be in a position to
explain numerous facts which may otherwise each require a
separate explanation.1 Hence with scientific advance it becomes
more and more appropriate • to explain new facts by old facts
instead of seeking in each case for a particular and isolated
explanation.

§ 202. Generalisation and deduction form, then, essentially
one process, consisting in the systematic search for ordered
similarities, only that in the former connection the statement
reached is more comprehensive than the one which formed our
point of departure and that we do not necessarily start from
a definite statement, whereas in deduction we set out necessarily
with a definite statement and our conclusion has a narrower
basis than this statement has. Indeed, deduction, we perceive
now, is intimately related to generalisation, because to discover
the implications of a leading generalisation is tantamount to
discovering certain classes of facts in the course of the gener-
alising process. We might speak of deduction as inverted
generalisation. Both processes tend, by means of hypotheses,
to extend the field of truth.

The need for verification (Conclusion 29) is, of course, im-
perative in deductive procedure, and general statements, in the
form of terse and luminous definitions, should be aimed at
here as in rounding off an inductive enquiry. (Conclusion 30.)

SECTION XXVII.— APPLICATION.

CONCLUSION 32.
Need of Drawing Practical Deductions.

§ 203. In § 2 we sought to establish that the whole of
existence forms a unity, and that the scientific process cannot
be therefore restricted to what are styled physical and abstract
truths. There we showed how comprehensive had become the
sphere of applied science, and how scientific workers have
from time immemorial consecrated part of their energies to
making life more tolerable through those identical means
whereby they extended the sphere of theoretical truth.

In this Section we desire to advance a step beyond. We
wish to submit that the scientific process is also one, and that
accordingly it is only complete when fair attention has been

1 For this reason Bacon never tired of extolling the importance of Forms
or natural laws. According to Alois Riehl, "Logik und Erkenntnistheorie",
in Systematische Philosophic, 1907, Galileo aimed, not at induction or deduc-
tion, but at establishing laws.

382 PART V.— WORKING STAGE.

paid to the more intimate aspects of life. Otherwise, the truth
we have attained to is only a partial one and arbitrary to boot.
In all the sociological sciences the connection between theoretical
and practical deduction is so close that in any sociological in-
vestigation purporting to be comprehensive it would argue a
grave dereliction of scientific duty to pass cavalier-like over
what are called practical problems. Given that the deductive
enquiry is virtually completed on the theoretical side, it should
automatically open on the practical side. Thus the statistician,
the economist, the jurist, the historian, the philologist, the
psychologist, the anthropologist, the ethnologist, the educationist,
the moralist, the religious and aesthetic thinker, should conceive
it as part and parcel of their duty to begin with precisely de-
fining their task, proceed to observation, generalisation, verifica-
tion, interim definition, and deduction, and pass beyond to applica-
tion. In reality, as Conclusion 2 implies, the problem of drawing
practical deductions should be a living one for the inquirer from
the introductory to the terminal stages of his investigation,
especially now that the facts of the practical life have been
classified to a notable extent and that the life of practice is
becoming more and more organised and organisable.

The biological and physical sciences occupy an analogous
position. The varied problems of agriculture, frugiculture, horti-
culture, arboriculture, dairy farming, stock rearing, and fisheries ;
of hygiene (general, industrial, school, etc.), dietetics, appro-
priate clothing, and sanitation; of the combating of infectious
and other diseases ; and of insect pests, dangerous animals, and
premature old age and reckless living, should be ever pressing
for solution in the mind of the biologist. The physicist and
chemist have similar tasks before them — the physicist's rays,
compass, and knowledge of mechanics, for instance, are of in-
calculable import, and so are his discoveries of novel or im-
proved material energies and raw materials, or his contributions
to the ventilation, lighting, heating, acoustics, cleaning, health,
design, safety, and soundness of every type of building and
boat, whilst the chemist's contributions in regard to manufac-
tures, agriculture, and medicine are invaluable. The meteo-
rologist may also help mankind to produce and avert, or at
least predict, rainfall, atmospheric humidity, heat, stronger or
weaker air currents, and clouds, whilst the astronomer, the
geographer, the geologist, the mineralogist, the seismologist, the
oceanographer, and all other types of scientists — not least the
mathematician — may equally render priceless service by ex-
tending and systematising the realm of practical truth.

For instance, psychologists and physiologists have been for a
generation engaged in inventions of a practical character relating
to industry. The energy expended in a particular task has been
examined by means of the dynamometer, the fatigue experienced
by the ergograph, the pain felt by the algesimeter, the vital

SECTION 27 —APPLICATION. 383

capacity by the spirometer, the speed by the stop-watch or the
film, and the relations subsisting between these diverse factors
have also been studied. Yoked to the "scientific management"
movement, these experiments may confer incalculable economic
benefits on the community. In addition to this, psychological
and physiological examinations of individuals, more particularly
on the side of nervous and sensory conditions, and of types
of mental association, have already been instrumental in fitting
square men into square holes and round men into round holes.

In short, he who examines a phenomenon from every possible
theoretical point of view, will be best able, if trained, to recog-
nise also its value for the furtherance of the practical uplift
and organisation of mankind. Just as we are bound to protest
against haphazard enquiries, against petty or too extensive in-
vestigations, and against unsystematic procedure or only attend-
ing to observation, generalisation, or deduction; so it is our
office as methodologists to plead that it is unmethodological, now
that science and the life of practice are so highly developed,
to neglect drawing practical conclusions in the proper place
and in due course.

Needless to state, he who is engaged in an enquiry of a quasi-
practical nature ought likewise to do his best to augment as
far as possible the sphere of quasi-theoretic truth.

§ 204. The following quotation relating to the practical
aspect of biology well illustrates the interdependence of the
theoretical and the practical life :

"Our knowledge of animals, like the child's, obviously arises with their
chase; and that of the aspects and properties of plants, wholesome and
poisonous, perhaps even medicinal, with the hungry search for roots and
berries. The evolution through higher social states finds its reflection in
. widening zoological and botanical folklore, and the developed agricultural
conditions of civilised life not only admit of the increasing and syste-
matising of our knowledge, but even at length contribute valuable con-
ceptions, like that of selective breeding, of which Darwin has made such
especial use. The recent contributions of biology to the arts of life have
been of course primarily associated with the advance of medical treatment;
hence the popular and even medical conception of the botanist is still based
upon the traditional one of the herboriser in quest of specific remedies.
The increase of food-supply, through pisciculture and breeding, and through
the destruction of the enemies of useful species, is an application of more
recent but widening growth ; in fact those applications of our knowledge
of cryptogamic pests which have especially culminated in the labours of
Lister and Pasteur, at present furnish the stock illustration of the applica-
bilities of pure biology. New ideas are also germinating; thus specula-
tion is busy, e.g., with schemes of artificial human selection; while rapid
progress is being made in the transition from detailed medicine to whole-
sale hygiene — i.e., beyond the mere application of specific remedies to
morbid individual variations, and towards a progressive and harmonious
re-organisation of the functions and environments which are afforded by
the human hive or city to its individuals . . .

"In tracing the progress of biology, we are simply following the reflec-
tion of the changing lights cast upon the organic world by each prevailing
mode of general thought and social life. In a word, the evolution of biology
forms part of the general social evolution; the science is no completed

384 PART V.— WORKING STAGE.

body of truth, but merely such portion of it as our stage of social pro-
gress enables us to see. Else the rise of science from art would be little
more than an almost prehistoric process, instead of being still and con-
tinually going on. Innumerable instances, large and small, might be given
of this; thus, the classificatory doctrine of the 'echelle des etres' due to the
naturalist Bonnet, is far more than a mere detail of the biographical history
of zoology ; for the conception of an unbroken series of beings ascending
in regular gradations from the lowest up to the highest is obviously the
projection upon nature of that established ecclesiastical and social hier-
archy in which the good abbe's mind was formed. Again, taking a larger
instance, the substitution of Darwin for Paley as the chief interpreter of the
order of nature is currently regarded as the displacement of an anthropo-
morphic view by a purely scientific one : a little reflection, however, will
show, that what has actually happened has been merely the replacement of
the anthropomorphism of the eighteenth century by that of the nineteenth.
For the place vacated by Paley's theological and metaphysical explanation
has simply been occupied by that suggested to Darwin and Wallace by
Malthus in terms of the prevalent severity of industrial competition, and
those phenomena of struggle for existence which the light of contemporary
economic theory has enabled us to discern, have thus come to be tem-
porarily exalted into a complete explanation of organic progress.

"Finally, the division of labour having become fully established in
industrial practice, and recognised in economic theory by Adam Smith, it
was frankly borrowed for biological application by Milne-Edwards, almost
a couple of generations later, with fruitful results. This industrial develop-
ment has indeed not only given us our present clear conception of separate
organic functions, where an earlier school could see only their general
resultant as 'temperament', but it has also determined the prevalent
intensity of scientific specialism within artificially restricted fields. Hence
too, the extreme specialist's not infrequent loss, if not indeed denial, of
definite responsibility to the science as a whole, and still more to that
larger progress of which it forms a part is simply the equivalent of that
loss of conscious relation both to the special task and to its general
bearings, from which at present the labourer also so frequently suffers. . . .

"The manifold importance of biology in education is seen not only in
its practical applications in the arts and in the study of medicine, but as
a potent agency of culture, and as preliminary to psychological and social
studies." (Patrick Geddes, Article "Biology", in Chambers' Encyclopaedia,
1908.) (See also G. Sarton, "L'Histoire de la science", in Isis, March, 1913;
T. B. Robertson, "The Historical Continuity of Science", in the Scientific
Monthly, October, 1916; and Arthur Dendy (editor), Animal Life and
Human Progress, 1919.)

Nor should Bacon's pregnant rule be overlooked that when
we have once established a fact, we should determine how it
is, and may conveniently be, produced or reproduced, or de-
stroyed if need be.

§ 205. We will venture on one extended illustration in
regard to the application of science to practice. At the close
of the eighteenth century a French scientific commission ela-
borated the metric system, a system of measurement which is
not only signally superior to the "natural", or rather casually
developed, modes of measuring then or now in vogue, but
which .is irresistibly spreading over the globe. We suggest
that philologists might perform the same priceless service for
language, even though a distinguished litterateur, Viscount
Morley, should dilate on " how immutably the tongues of lead-
ing stocks in the world seem to have struck their roots".

SECTION 27.— APPLICATION. 385

(Notes on Politics and History, 1913, p. 92.) Indeed, according
to our methodological criterion, it is incumbent on the philo-
logist to concern himself with the practical as well as with the
theoretical aspects of his studies. Methodologically, he has no
option in this matter, and no doubt these practical investiga-
tions will beneficially react on his theoretical views.

With the metric system as his model, we shall assume that
he will desire to re-fashion language in its entirety, in con-
formity with ideals not less exacting than those which inspired
the French' commission adverted to. Familiar with the struc-
ture of a multiplicity of tongues, and conversant with every-
thing material which has been written on this topic, he will,
in a generalised and rationalised form, incorporate from those
sources whatever is of permanent value. Moreover, true to
the methodological ideal, he will devote his whole life to this
enterprise, seek the counsel and co-operation of the most com-
petent authorities, and succeed, we trust, in inducing some
international academy to assume the main responsibility for
the inauguration and execution of the monumental task. Prob-
ably the goal can only be reached by generations of scholars
collaborating. If so, the sooner the work is undertaken, the
better.

In the circumstances it will not be expected that we shall
here attempt more than the faintest adumbration of this project.
That is, in all important respects we shall only be able to
touch on the methodological aspects, and, even in this connec-
tion, much will be necessarily left unsaid or obscure because
of the present writer's painfully deficient philological equipment.
Only this should be added prefatorily that once an approxi-
mately satisfactory system is evolved, temporary and partial
applications may be made relating to existing languages, whilst
the very construction or existence of a scientifically elaborated
medium of lingual communication — first naturally employed in
scientific work — will indicate the path of lingual advance and
encourage its being trodden.

1. First, a few words anent the sounds of the language. In
this respect economy and euphony would be aimed at. Each
character would represent one distinctive uncompounded con-
sonantal or vowel sound, and wealth of elementary sounds
would be favoured, rather than reducing their number or keep-
ing them at a minimum. Approximately forty uncompounded
sounds are met with in European languages, perhaps twenty
consonants and twenty vowels. Assuming them to be expressed
in visible characters on the principle illustrated below, appreci-
ably more than half the time at present occupied in mere
writing would be saved, whilst a single alphabet could serve
for writing, printing, and other purposes. Capital letters would
be only employed initially, in the case of proper nouns, and
for emphasis and ornamentation. These capitals might be

25

386 PART V.— WORKING STAGE.

formed by simply commencing the upward stroke of a letter
from below the writing line, saving thus a separate series of
alphabetic outlines. Abbreviations of certain frequently recur-
ring words and syllables might enable ordinary writing to pro-
ceed at, perhaps, four to five times the present speed. This is
no indifferent consideration, for the handmaid of thought should
not fall far behind deliberate thought itself. Here is such an
alphabet:—

t. ?- ? .? &{. <? L/./. // ////

•«• J '4 ft? '"e" "'

(I) rotundity, rose; (2) fallow, mad; (3) fun, far; (4) Ml, feel; (5) fell; fa/1;
(6) full, fool; (7) falter, fall; (8) le, cceur; (9) Fulle, fi/Men; (10) yain, /ain;

(II) gain, cane; (12) 6ane, /?ain; (13) sin^, son/; (14) licftt, lacften; (15) leisure,
shun; (16) there, think; (17) (unused); (18) (unused); (19) do, to; (20) as,
so; (21) 7ot, roll; (22) yes, we; (23) net, /net; (24) he; (24a) y'eer, c/ieer;

(246) sigh, joy, now ; (25) Knowledge is Power.

The systematic order and the quality, as well as the time
value and desirable time variations, of primary sounds, would
be ascertained and fixed by phonograph, and preserved for
reference in record offices as are the metrical standards.

The consonantal and vowel compounds would be constructed
on the same basis of economy and euphony, eschewing as far
as practicable all cumbrous combinations and favouring those
which are mellifluous or characterful.

2. In the framing of the letters into words the above con-
structive principles would be also followed.

The present practice of only encouraging euphonious com-
binations would be continued, but on a strictly systematised
basis and independently of conventional standards. This might
be, perhaps, effectually aided by arranging that root words should
begin with a vowel, and be divided from prefixes and postfixes
by a y and w respectively. Prefixes would consist of a con-
sonant followed or not by a vowel, and postfixes of a vowel
followed or not by a consonant.

SECTION 27.— APPLICATION. 387

»

3. For the reasons already enumerated in 1, accentuation of
syllables would be preserved and regularised. Perhaps every
second, fourth, etc., syllable would be accentuated. Perchance
on the same account accents might be subdivided into weak and
strong ones, the strong syllable falling invariably on the second
syllable, the weaker on the fourth, etc. Furthermore, accentua-
tion, as in English, would be extended to the words composing
a sentence, e.g., in "a very large house" the word accent
steadily rises, enabling the comparatively greater emphasis to
be placed on the comparatively more important word in a
sentence, and rendering the language both less monotonous
and more intellectual. Lastly, accentuation for the sake of
particular emphasis, would be permissible, as in "that man!"

Thus far we might be said to have concerned ourselves with
the esthetic and with the crudely elementary aspects of the
problem, for the fundamental question in respect of a language
which professes to be constructed on a scientific basis is (a) how
the words can be shaped so as to possess a rigidly fixed meaning,
and (b) how we can arrange that that meaning shall reflect
scientific facts and the scientific spirit. Unless we are tolerably
successful in this phase of our enterprise, we may be said to
have broadly failed. At present, so far as the signification of
the constituents of a term are concerned, cat might mean, for
instance, dog or mountain, and therefore the term cat provides
us with no inner clue to its connotation. Here, then, our radi-
cal reform must have its starting point. Every letter, like every
cardinal number in arithmetic, should have a definite meaning1
and one exhibiting a scientific character. In this matter the
signification of a word would consist of the sum of significations
of the separate letters arranged in a certain order. The unit
of significant language, that is, would be the letter and not
the word.

In consonance with this principle the scientific alphabet might
be assumed to be constructed of numbers having cardinal and
ordinal implications, and thus satisfy mathematical requirements.
The ten short vowels, in their proper phonetic order, would
represent, or rather be, the figures 1 to 0, and for convenience,
the corresponding long vowels would stand for 11 to 20. (In
the spoken language, when used for arithmetical purposes, the
decimal units above the first— hundred, thousand, etc. — would
be each represented by a consonant in a series corresponding
to the vowels, pronounced with the corresponding vowel which

1 In this connection note the tacitly recognised common meaning under-
lying so many words beginning with gl, most of them suggestive of light:
glabrate, glacial, glacis, glad, glade, gladiator, gladiolus, glair, glaive, glamour,
glance, gland, glanders, glare, glass, glaze, gleam, glean, glebe, glee, glen,
glibe, glide, glim, glimmer, glimpse, glint, glissade, glisten, glitter, gloaming,
gloat, globe, glomerate, gloom, glory, gloss, glottis, glove, glow, gloze, glu-
cose, glue, glum, glut, gluten, glycerin, glyptic. (See, however, 4.)

25*

388 PART V.— WORKING STAGE.

precedes it.) These numbers, especially from 1 to 20, and even
1 to 400, would enable us, according to the context, to express
differences of degree and number as well as difference in order
of fact. Moreover, the ordinal place of a letter in a word
would also convey an ordinal meaning. All this would hold
mutatis mutandis of consonants whose root meanings would
be identical with those of the vowels.

4. The twenty vowels and the twenty consonants would be
arranged in accordance with a strict phonetic scheme and fixed
by phonograph. This accomplished, the successive vowels would
have assigned to them a meaning corresponding to the, say,
twenty hierarchically ordered categories of facts, and the suc-
cession of consonants would possess the same signification.
For instance, the meaning implied in a — if a be the first letter-
would be a universal one, and accordingly we should have,
for example, at ethereology, ag molecular physics, molar
physics ... to biology, morals, art, etc. We may further
assume all knowledge to be divided into kingdom, phylum,
class, order, family, genus, species, variety, and individual.
Assume that a root word consists, unabbreviated, of eight
letters. Then the number and places of the letters will convey
the inherent meaning. Should there be more than twenty of
a category, the vowel or consonant is doubled to express the
number, up to 20 times 20, or four hundred. However, the
need for double consonants or vowels would seldom occur. So
far as the meaning of the letters composing it are concerned,
the word "mammal" in the language of to-day is a bare jumble
of sounds. In the scientific language it would consist, say,
of the letters e (animal), b (nth phylum), o (mth class), or ebo.
Or if we thought of a tiger, we would, perhaps, have the word
ebonimu, indicating by its successive letters kingdom, phylum,
class, order, family, genus, and species. Millions of significant
terms could be framed in this wise, multitudes of them con-
sisting of one syllable. Granted ingenuity equal to the needs
of the case — which is assuming much, we admit — and a lan-
guage of a scientific character may be constructed, a language
where the letters of the alphabet reflect the scientifically deter-
mined categories of facts. Such a language, too, would not
only image the sciences; it would compel wide and sound
information, clear and scientific thinking, lucid and terse ex-
pression, and would be readily acquired, and difficult to forget,
to misunderstand, or to pervert. Nothing short of such a result
could satisfy the methodologist. Science is already far advanced,
and a scientific language has therefore become possible,; but
if it be contended that allowance should be made for the cor-
rection of errors, the reply is that for this also systematic
provision might be made. However, it should be remembered
that, to judge by the last hundred years, changes in language
proceed with extreme slowness. Perhaps, too, every century

SECTION 27.— APPLICATION. 389

a Commission could re-examine the language and bring it up
to date.

Needless to state, each radicle would have its significance
definitely determined and retain it until formally altered.

5. Each primary word should be automatically capable of
being employed, in a duly modified form, as arty part of speech.
Here is a paradigm:— Noun: internment, interner, internress, in-
ternee (also special words for that which interns and that which
is interned— general, masculine, and feminine; also selected
words for objects and persons professionally or frequently
interning or being interned, as filter or explorer), internability,
internness, internivity, internity, internage, internium, internism,
internation, etc.; verb: to intern, interned, interning (also
internify, internesce, etc.); adjective: internal (internal, intern-
able, internive, etc.), internative, interniform, interniferous, etc.;
adverb: internally (also internerally, etc.). Naturally only one
modification would exist for each form of speech: a, for instance,
as the sole adjectival form, and we should say, for instance,
I, thou, he, we, you, they, have. Similarly, the free and common
use of all parts of speech and of all modifications would be
encouraged, in accordance with methodological requirements.
Tenses would, of course, be formed by a single unmodifiable
postfix for each tense. Each modification would exhibit its
signification in the letters whereof it is composed — e.g., inter-
nal-like.

6. Four hundred prefixes and as many postfixes could be
created to express the modifications which root words are
capable of. A word would be known to have a prefix if it
commenced with a consonant, and recognised as having a post-
fix if a w occurred therein, all letters before a y being a part
of prefixes and all letters after the w of postfixes. Modifiers
representing the categories and the principal human depart-
ments— health, morals, intelligence, beauty, economics, politics,
happiness — would, of course, be introduced, and at once enrich
and simplify the vocabulary. Already such prefixes as mis
(misunderstand) and mal (maltreat), for instance, express in-
tellectual and moral deficiencies respectively, and what is there-
fore needed is a full development of present right tendencies
in language. Nor should various other forms of prefixes be
forgotten, as, for instance, negative: in(curable); privative:
a(chromatic) ; opposite: un(lock); separation: disjointed); and
so forth. These modifiers would retain their form and meaning
integrally in all circumstances, and be applied, as required, to
all root words and their combinations, as unindecomposability.
It would be understood that the letters constituting the prefixes
would be one in form and meaning with the radicles whence
they are derived.

Similarly nouns would be freely joined, as window frame,
detention house, child cruelty prevention association (instead

390 PART V— WORKING STAGE.

of association for the prevention of cruelty to children). In-
numerable cumbersome and uncouth sentences would be thus
avoided and a wide range of expression secured, as in German.

7. Words should be connected in sentences in conformity
with a definite and simple order, as "This represents an alto-
gether correct version of what transpired at the conference
yesterday"— not as in Latin or German where emphasis or
grammar sunder what should be united. Such a determinate
order would conduce to clarity, and appreciably reduce the
time required for learning how to express oneself appro-
priately.

8. The present system of punctuation should be, perhaps,
supplemented, especially so far as the comma is concerned, and
strictly regulated. Fine distinctions are to-day sometimes difficult
to express because of the comparative poverty of our system
of punctuation. In "ethics or the science of conduct" and
"ethics or psychology", for instance, where the or suggests an
alternative expression in the first case and a disjunction in the
second, the difficulty might be surmounted by finer punctuation,
or by having two words, an alternative and a disjunctive, in-
stead of one or. Abundant punctuation should be promoted,
as well as the habitual and standardised use of all the signs.

9. The problem of the length of sentences should receive
attention and, within the limits of clarity, theme, and necessity,
the fullest freedom and variety should be fostered in this con-
nection in order to satisfy assthetic and special demands.

10. Studious care should be taken to satisfy methodological
requirements. Assuming that the root words express only
general and positive facts, such as size and goodness, and not
modifications, such as smallness and badness, a uniform
arithmetical method of degrees of modification would be intro-
duced. This might be based on the principle that ordinary
discourse should demand, say, seventeen divisions, of which
five — 1, 5, 9, 13, 17 — would be in common use, whilst more
discriminating speech would tend to employ all the seventeen
divisions. (One, nine, and seventeen are chosen as yielding a
beginning, middle, and end, and a fair number of intermediate
divisions; and we postulate 1 as the lowest degree.) Where
negatives (good-bad) or extremes (top-bottom) occur, the seven-
teen divisions would be naturally employed, 9 forming the
point of indifference. Countless modifying words would thus
become redundant; the liability to depreciation and fluctuation
in the modifiers would be circumvented; unlimited delicacy and
variation in expression would be attainable; and a high minimum
of accuracy and clarity would be exacted. Already measurement
of time, number, distance, etc., is peremptorily demanded
wherever it is feasible by those of a reflective cast of mind,
and speech where vagueness is shunned and numerical factors
are frequently introduced, is not uncommon. Thus "this is

SECTION 27.— APPLICATION. 391

perceptibly, distinctly, markedly, considerably, conspicuously,
substantially, strikingly, remarkably, completely true", would
become "this is one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight,
nine true", or if false be included, we reach the series 1 to 17,
and so with all modifications. Similarly, "one (to seventeen)
frequently", "one (to seventeen) altitude mountain", etc. Lan-
guage would probably gain immeasurably by such a method,
and emotions would attach themselves to these numbers as to
words.

11. The art of the poet and the orator would be universalised.
Terms and expressions possessing restricted meanings would
be systematically transferred to new subjects or generalised.
In this manner terms and expressions relating to law, religion,
commerce, the arts and sciences, etc., would be, though con-
trolled, systematically employed outside these realms whenever
convenient. Terms and expressions would be thus indefinitely
multiplied; the latest of these would be fully exploited; older
terms and expressions would not impose on us; and language
would be incomparably fresher, breezier, and more beautiful.

12. Lastly. Instead, as is now the case, of fortuitously col-
lecting a poor and corrupt stock of words, a vast treasure of
unequivocal and vivid terms, composed of a few root characters
and positional meanings, would be deliberately learned and
appreciated. In this way just and delicate discrimination gene-
rally—and specifically in connection with the master subjects:
morals, aesthetics, methodology, truth, civics, economics, health,
and happiness — would be acquired by the child and adolescent
both practically and theoretically. Men and women would
systematically learn their philological, as they systematically
learn their metric, system. Each root and affix would possess
a fixed meaning and that meaning everybody would be
acquainted with and freely employ. Language would be a living
whole where every part is alive, and is related to all other
parts, and not a body of words mostly unconnected with one
another, capriciously changing, frequently meaningless in them-
selves, and living isolated, squalid, and short lives. This language
would naturally tend to be the universal language, as the
metrical system is tending to be the universal system of measure-
ment, and as the latter is capable of improvement — perhaps
into a duodecimal system — so our scientific language would be
perfected with the ages by regularly recurring periodical
revisions. It is inconceivable that mankind will continue much
longer to be satisfied with acquiring in a haphazard fashion a
cumbrously complex and exasperatingly obscure and confusing
language to serve as the principal medium of communication
with our fellows and chief means of communion with ourselves.

392 PART V.— WORKING STAGE.

SECTION XXVIIL— CLASSIFICATION.

CONCLUSION 33.
Need of Judicious Classification.

§ 206. Language is a vast repository of classifications. Let
us analyse an imaginary example. Suppose the vague idea of
good enters the primitive mind. Then it is an important step
in advance for that mind to evolve the idea of not-good or bad.
The primitive man makes headway, again, by conceiving the
individual good as becoming and ceasing, and by discriminating
in two directions, namely in relation to quality and quantity —
very good and very bad ; and better, best ; worse, worst. Hav-
ing reached a higher stage, he then refines the very into (say)
imperceptibly, just perceptibly, perceptibly, slightly, passably,
fairly, moderately, appreciably, distinctly, considerably, con-
spicuously, substantially, almost completely, completely, abso-
lutely, extremely, and the good into countless virtues and duties,
e.g., kindness, honesty, uprightness, truthfulness, purity, self-
control. He further subdivides each of these subsidiary classes
in an analogous manner, and the adjectives he enriches by
prefixing to them a series of delicately discriminating adverbs.

Particulars tend thus progressively to become generals and
facts become more or less coherently ranged into classes. Thus
the early Greeks adopted a fourfold classification of the multi-
tude of virtues into Justice, Temperance, Courage, and Prudence ;
St. Paul preached the three graces Faith, Hope, and Love ; and
the French at the time of their Great Revolution introduced
the inspiring patriotic motto Liberty, Fraternity, and Equality.
We may also imagine that almost simultaneously with the
development of the confused conception of the good, the ideas
of the true and the beautiful struggled into being, and, accord-
ingly, that after aBons of development men select the phrase
the Good, the True, and the Beautiful, as most fitly expressing
what man most deeply aspires to, adding later to this trio, the
Hygienic. In this way more or less discriminative analysis
proceeds historically side by side with more or less discrimina-
tive classification till we obtain the highest or summum genus,
as Being and Action, on the one hand, and the lowest, or in-
fima species, such as electrical and arithmetical unit, on the
other. Not until, however, the sciences emerge from the incipient
stage, and a rudimentary methodology appears on the scene,
is there a consistent attempt at rigid classification or division
on the basis of exhaustive pan-human enquiries and tests. For
this reason classification in daily life is as common as it is
tentative in character, and on the same account the last word
of methodology may probably be the gradual reconstruction
of language on a strictly methodological foundation involving
a comprehensive classification.

SECTION 28.— CLASSIFICATION. 393

This reconstruction commenced, in essence, long ago. In
antiquity and in the Middle Ages, where consistency constituted
the ideal of sound thinking, nomenclatures and terminologies
were developed in connection with diverse subjects : the special
names connected with logics and with rhetoric may be cited
in illustration. With the development of the sciences, progress
was hastened in this direction. We have the early example
of botany, where a luxurious nomenclature and terminology
came into being. Chemistry can also boast of having built a
wall around its preserve, saving its terms from pollution by
the profane multitude. Other sciences have striven more or less
successfully to achieve the same end, seeking refuge wherever
possible in mathematical terms, symbols, and formulae. Defi-
ciencies in language, difficulties experienced in unequivocally
expressing distinctions without circumlocution, are among the
most formidable obstacles to progress in science. An invalu-
able service would be therefore rendered to science and its
popularisation if some learned international body occupied it-
self with the project of how to design stable and appropriate
nomenclatures and terminologies on a general and a scientific
basis. In this attempt, the secret of a scientific language, which
we sought in the preceding Conclusion, might possibly be dis-
covered.1

The advantage is patent of classifying stars — according to
their brightness — into sixteen magnitudes, or the force of the
wind into twelve magnitudes: from 1 — a light air, to 12 — a hur-
ricane ; the chemical elements according to their atomic weights ;
living beings into kingdom, phylum, class, order, family, genus,
species, variety, and individual; the metabolism of life into
anabolism and katabolism; the problems of life into function
and environment; organisms into systems of organs, organs,
tissues, cells, and protoplasm; plants into Thallophyte, Bryo-
phyte, Pteridophyte, Gymnosperms, and Angiosperms; verte-
brates into fishes, amphibians, reptiles, birds, and mammals;
foods into proteins, fats, carbohydrates, vitamines, mineral mat-
ters, water, and oxygen ; languages into isolating, agglutinative,

1 A supplementary dictionary, where the words are divided into groups
conformably to their signification, should be of inestimable value in illu-
minating the nature of language and in outlining how it may be extensively
rationalised and developed. Of course, more than one tongue ought to be
studied in this way. Even now, however, much might be accomplished in
developing the intellectual powers by (a) training the young to the intelligent
every day use of the substance of the dictionary, and (b) thoroughly habitu-
ating them to the frequent and matter-of-fact employment of such terms as
judgment, balance, discernment, perspicacity, penetration, clarity, discrimina-
tion, sagacity, circumspection, caution, prudence, restraint, vigilance, heed-
fulness, correctness, exactitude, precision, tentativeness, diffidence, deference,
moderation, reserve, discretion, considerateness, etc., as well as to methodo-
logical terms and constant recourse to measurement generally. This educa-
tional method might be advantageously extended to the principal terms
employed in practice in connection with the cultural list referred to in § 1.

394 PART V- WORKING STAGE.

and inflectional or holophrastic and analytic; and the wealth
of human culture into departments relating to languag, trans-
port, etc.

In practical activities classification has a special and im-
portant part to play, for, having classified, we are enabled to
separate objects into groups. The grouping we may then utilise
for the elimination of faulty and superfluous groups, and for the
formulation of maximum number of standards, methods, tools,
machinery, material energies, and establishments. For this
reason, efficiency "engineers" regard classification as an in-
dispensable means for attaining their goal.

§ 207. Classification may be, further, conceived as definite-
ness in arranging the final results of an enquiry. At a glance
we can then perceive, as in a well-constructed book, the skeleton
which forms the support of the general argument and which
betokens its harmony and its compactness. Without a proper
classification of 'the results, without divisions and headings, we
are in danger of surmising that our conceptions are translucent
when they are nearly opaque, and in leaving others in doubt
concerning the precise results which we have obtained. In this
connection we will examine a concrete example of classification,
namely this treatise.

At first the volume was divided into four parts, Part III being
sub- divided into several Sub-Parts. Eventually a new classi-
fication into two Books — Theory and Practice — was introduced,
the Sub-Parts becoming Parts. This furnished a more useful
division.

Originally, in starting the book, concrete processes of thought
were examined, and rough notes were kept of the observations.
Later, the notes were consolidated under more and more con-
venient headings. Some of these headings were socially deter-
mined— such as Observation, Generalisation, Deduction. Con-
currently numerous observations were made which were less
amenable to classification to begin with, e.g., those in Part IV.
The headings in Part II equally suggested themselves to some
extent at haphazard.

"Preliminary Considerations" manifestly had to be placed
first, and the order of the Considerations, once these were
arrived at, were, broadly speaking, decided from the very com-
mencement. "The Problem" also had a predetermined position,
because of its logical place in the body of the work. Its intro-
ductory Section necessarily occupied its present place origi-
nally. The succession of the four Sections which followed this
one, was determined by the crescendo, from completest ignorance
to completest knowledge — infant and child, uneducated, educated,
and man of genius. Not inappropriately this was succeeded by
the "Progress of Methodological Theory". Assuming the subject
exhausted, the "Conclusion" follows, and this should be so
methodologically with every Part.

SECTION 28 —CLASSIFICATION. 395

In Part II a logical order could be followed, as the processes
considered formed practically a time or order series, and this
was naturally done.

Part III had necessarily to precede Part IV, and to open
Book II. Part IV consisted of all the practical matter of a
preparatory or ancillary character. Of course, this matter was
placed in Part IV, only after mature reflection as to its proper
place in the scheme of the work. Even then the order was
difficult to ascertain in several cases, and the classification no
doubt still leaves something to be desired. Nevertheless
repeatedly attempts were made to classify the material in such
a manner that the Conclusions should at least appear to succeed
each other logically.

Part V formed the crux of the problem in classification. In
arranging the Conclusions in this Part in a rigid chronological
order, there was not only a gain for the reader, but for the author.
The latter could closely scrutinise the order he followed, and inter-
polate missing links which non-temporal considerations had not
suggested. Thus a comparatively rounded result was obtained,
classification rationalising the methodological process as a whole.

This very time order helped to focus the conception of finding
an inherent connection between the successive Sections of
Part V. Hence the final arrangement was reached, whereby
the whole methodological process of enquiry was conceived as
a single act, one part of the process following another neces-
sarily from the commencement until the terminating Conclusion
was reached. This ensured that an investigation could be only
considered as complete and consummated when in an enquiry
the whole series of Conclusions, in their particular order, were
respected. Observation, Generalisation, Deduction, etc., were
now no longer independent units, but links in a time chain.

Of course, ideally speaking, the whole of the working Con-
clusions ought to have been deducible in their precise order
from a single methodological principle; but that the author felt
he must leave to future research.

This examination of a concrete case illustrates the diversified
.virtues of a good classification— aiding the author to arrive at
new truths and to clarify his mind; helping his readers by
avoiding unnecessary confusion, by assisting correct and ready
apprehension, and by compressing multitudinous details into a
very few terms; and, lastly, leading to the permanent enrichment
of the treasure of human knowledge by the establishment of
far-reaching similarities and of radical differentia among a
certain class of phenomena.

Or, to express our results more definitely. Having completed
some extensive enquiry, we seek to classify the facts under
the fewest divisions practicable, connecting them as closely as
circumstances permit. Each of these divisions, again, has
divisions subordinated to it— also well articulated. Sir Ray

396 PART V.-WORKING STAGE.

•

Lankester's classification of animals in the Encyclopaedia
Britannica (llth edition) may be taken as an illustration in this
respect. From an ideal viewpoint the classification should omit
nothing relevant, include nothing irrelevant, and each class
should be rigorously separated from every other. In practice,
however, this is frequently impossible, and the man of science
has therefore to content himself with a resolute attempt to
approach his ideal of classification, leaving it to a succession
of inquirers and scholars finally to fulfil abstract methodological
requirements. However, just as tentative classification should
be resorted to almost from the beginning of the enquiry,
especially when the Interim Statement is being reached, so the
ultimate step should be to find a higher class under which our
classes can be ranged, connecting in this way our enquiry
with others which have preceded it. Lastly, it should be noted
that, as a broad rule, intimate acquaintance with a subject
already involves a fairly advanced stage of classification, and
that the latter process is dependent thereon. It is rarely that
purely logical considerations account for a classification. • Where
this seems to be the case, it represents usually either a super-
ficial classification or one borrowed from another subject.

§ 208. It is to be expected that this treatise should suggest
how the aggregations of knowledge man has accumulated to
our day may be conveniently arranged, or rather re-arranged.
The scheme propounded here is neither an abstruse one nor
very novel. We naturally place at the head the most com-
prehensive science, that concerned with the Cosmos or All,
Cosmology. Next, pursuing again evident lines of cleavage,
we place all inanimate nature, under Physics; all life and con-
nected individual intelligence, under Biology; and the remainder,
pan-human, or species-produced, culture, under Specio-Psychics*
Each of these divisions is again developed not only along con-
ventional lines, but with the object of embracing the totality
of human life and activity, while the subdivisions following the
four principal divisions, suggest how our detailed knowledge
may be tentatively correlated and unified.1

1 The following works or essays may be consulted with advantage in
connection with the problem of the classification of the sciences: —

Andre-Marie Ampere, Essai sur la philosophic des sciences, 1834-1843.

Jeremy Bentham, Chrestomathia, Part II, 1817.

Auguste Comte, Cours de philosophic positive, vol. 1, Lecon II.

M. Cournot, De I'enchatnement des idees fondamentales dans les sciences
et dans Vhistoire, 2 vols., 1861.

R. Flint, Philosophy as Scientia Scientiarium, 1904.

Edmond Goblot, Essai sur la classification des sciences, 1898.

Hugo Muensterberg, The Position of Psychology in the System of Know-
ledge, Harvard Studies, vol. 1.

Karl Pearson, The Grammar of Science, 1900.

Herbert Spencer, The Classification of the Sciences, 1871.

Carl Stumpf, Zur Einteilung der Wissenschaften, 1906.

Wilhelm Wundt, Uber die Einteilung der Wissenschaften, Philosophische
Studien, 1889.

SECTION 28.— CLASSIFICATION.

397

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PART V.— WORKING STAGE.

§ 210. To complete the classificatory scheme, we repeat
from Conclusion 3 the Introductory Category and the Primary
Categories.

I.— INTRODUCTORY CATEGORY.

The object of an enquiry is always a phenomenon, a pheno-
menon being a given or stated partial (e.g., portion of indivi-
dual), single (e.g., individual as a whole), collective (e.g., aggrega-
tions of individuals to species), grouped (e.g., beyond species,
and including larger wholes such as a science or a group or
groups of sciences, to cosmology and the universe), or abstracted
(whiteness, etc.), physical or other something (i. e., anything which
partially or wholly exists, is coming into or going out of existence,
has existed, will, might, could, would, should, or is believed,
alleged or feigned, to exist, or the contrary).

*

II.— PRIMARY CATEGORIES.

1. Elementals of phenomenon

2. Constituents „

3. Form „

4. Dependence „

5. Action „

6. Cause „

7. Resemblance of phenomenon \

8. Classification „

9. Position „

10. Differentiae of phenomenon

11. Details

ungeneralised phenomenon.

phenomenon classed.

)menon defined.

12. Value of phenomenon 1

13. Utilisation „

14. Appreciation „

> phenor
worth of phenomenon.

15. Description of phenomenon j description of phenomenon.

This skeleton does not, however, offer its own explanation.
We shall therefore develop each of the sub-sections.

A. — Material Aspects of Phenomenon Investigated:—

1. — ELEMENTALS, or Precise fundamental sensory and other mental data
sought for in physical or mental investigations: (a) vision: light — colour —
shade — transparency — picture — appearance; (b) touch and effort: softness —
smoothness — evenness — cohesion — plasticity — flexibility — malleability,
configuration — texture, gravity — weight — pressure— resistance, attraction —
repulsion, fluid— liquid— viscid— solid; (c) hearing: sounds — noise— har-
mony; (d) taste; (e) smell; (f) heat; (g) feeling: pain — pleasure — appetite
—desire — mood— excitement— emotion— sentiment; (h) volition: impulse —
habit— decision — willing— action; (i) intelligence: observation— memory —
imagination— reasoning — judgment — reflection; and (/) indirectly ap-

SECTION 28.— CLASSIFICATION. 399

prehensible: causes of heat, electricity, magnetism, etc., and unconscious
cerebration ;

2. CONSTITUENTS, or Precise static and dynamic, largest to smallest,
constituents, including ether, elements, compounds, minerals, vital con-
stituents, materials, and parts, and their precise disposition, connection,
interdependence, and relative homogeneity or heterogeneity;

3. FORM, or Precise form, shape, outline, design, of wholes, parts, sub-
parts, etc., and their precise disposition, connection, interdependence, and
relative homogeneity or heterogeneity;

4. DEPENDENCE, or Precise special facts and factors in the environ-
ment, on which the phenomenon is more or less dependent (e.g., tree's
dependence on soil, atmosphere, and external temperature);

5. ACTION, or Precise action or effects of phenomenon;

6. CAUSE, or Precise cause or causes of the existence, and properties
of phenomenon;

7. RESEMBLANCES, or Precise leading, major, and minor individual,
class, and other resemblances of phenomenon or phenomena (for forming
classes and schematic scale of classes);

8. CLASSIFICATION, or Precise methodical classification of the pheno-
mena observed, and placing the classes thus formed under a more com-
prehensive category;

9. POSITION, or Precise comparative position of phenomenon within
class or classes, and precise comparison of the parts of related wholes ;

10. DIFFERENTLY, or Precise leading, major, and minor individual,
class, and other differentia? of phenomenon (the ascertainment of the lead-
ing differentise is the primary object of most investigations);

11. DETAILS, or Precise secondary aspects or details of phenomenon,
of interest in the enquiry;

12. VALUE, or Precise value and quality (hygienic, economic, moral,
aesthetic, philosophical, scientific, . . .) of phenomenon.

13. UTILISATION, or Precise utilisation, application, and reproduction
of phenomenon in all spheres of life;

14. APPRECIATION, or Precise appreciation (desire, liking, preference,
love, and enjoyment, and their opposites) of phenomenon; and

15. DESCRIPTION, or Precise nomenclature, terminology, definitions,
formula?, statements, tables, diagrams, and reports in connection with the
phenomenon.

B. — Modal Aspects of Phenomenon Investigated:—

1. QUANTITY (precise number— magnitude— calculation . . .);

2. TIME (precise position and distribution in time, 'precedence— suc-
cession, number of times, dawn— day— twilight— night, seasons, past— pre-
sent—future, duration — age— date, frequency— periodicity, rapidity— slow-
ness, velocity— acceleration — retardation, chronological measurement and
chronological calculation generally);

3. SPACE (precise position and distribution in space, before— behind—
juxtaposition — direction, magnitude, number, height— depth— breadth,
length— distance, angle, degree, longitude— latitude, compass points, metri-
cal and other measurements, and calculation generally);

4. CONSCIOUSNESS (precise position and distribution in consciousness,
precedence— succession, magnitude, number, vividness — completeness —
durability, movement — changes, and resemblance in these respects of
recalled phenomenon to phenomenon recalled, chronological, comparative,
and other measurements, and calculation generally);

5. DEGREE (precise degree of Material, Modal, and Procedure Aspects
of mathematical, etheorological, mechanical, physical, chemical, crystallo-
graphical, vital, sensory, psychological, social, specio-psychic, and
other properties of a static or dynamic character, and of resemblance,
difference, dependence, interdependence, and other relations and inter-
relations, quantitatively stated where possible);

400 PART V.— WORKING STAGE.

6. STATE (precise pure, average, casual, momentary, time-produced,
environment-produced, individual, transitional, exceptional, abnormal,
perfect, imperfect, and . . . state);

7. CHANGE (precise movement — activity — process, from commencement
of change to its end, external and non-external influences, fertilisation —
kariokynesis — prenatal development — birth — growth — adaptation — regene-
ration— reproduction — senescence — death— decomposition, evolution — ori-
gin— history— development— transformation or dissolution and further
evolution, improvement — deterioration, production — accumulation — distri-
bution—exchange— consumption, experiencing — feeling — reasoning — con-
cluding, automatic-reflex—impulsive—habitual — deliberate action, and
ways of living and their formation and change . . .) ; and

8. PERSONAL EQUATION (precise degree of more or less complete
interest — preparedness — liberty — opportunity, of possessing stranger's fresh-
ness in viewing and weighing own facts and conclusions, and of more
or less permanent individuality, abnormality, unclearness — ignorance —
error— prejudice — deception, and . . .).

C. — Procedure Aspects of Phenomenon Investigated:—

1. Precise determination of the problem under investigation. (Conclu-
sion 14.)

2. Accurate, minute, and, if possible, experimental examination under
the most varied conditions of space, time, and other circumstances, and
Immediate and scrupulous recording of results. (Conclusions 16 and 18.)

3. Alertness, in order not to miss obscure, unobtrusive, and exceptional
facts. (Conclusion 21.)

4. Systematic exhaustion, plus simple case and testing of divisions.
{Conclusions 19, 20, 17.)

5. Degree-determination and dialectics. (Conclusions 27 and 28.)

6. Luminous clearness and decided definiteness in thinking. (Conclu-
sion 15.)

7. Graded, comprehensive, important, numerous, full, rational and
relevant, original, automatically initiated, and methodically developed
generalisations, deductions, and applications. (Conclusions 25, 31, 32.)

8. Systematic verification, classification, balanced interim and final
statements, and lucid reports. (Conclusions 29, 33, 30, 34, 35.)

FULLER LISTS.

§ 211. 3—7.

3. (a) General Cosmology, comprises the fundamental pro-
perties of the Cosmos;

(b) Universal Cosmology — Criticism and Theory of Knowledge,
Theory of Being, General Methodology and Logics, . . .;

(c) Non-Universal Cosmology — Forms of matter and thought
(space, time, . . .);

(d) General, Universal, and Non-Universal Cosmology, divided
each, as far as practicable, into General, Universal, and Non-
Universal.

4. (a) General Physics, comprising the fundamental properties
of matter;

(b) Universal Physics— Gravitation ; Etheorology — Light, Heat,
Magnetism, Electricity, Radiation; Mechanics (molecular and
molar); crystallography; chemistry; transition to life forms;

(c) Non-Universal Physics — (1) Astronomy (general, nebular,
stellar, solar, planetary, terrestrial, . . .); (2) Geognomy — Gene-

SECTION 28.— CLASSIFICATION. 401

ral; (2a) Sciences of the earth's interior (Metallurgy, Seismo-
logy, . . .); (26) Sciences of the earth's solid surface and crust
(Mineralogy, Geology, Geography, and sciences of mountains,
valleys, shores, and waterbeds) ; and the general science of solid
and viscous substances; (2c) Hydrology or Sciences of water-
sheds (i.e., of seas, lakes, ponds, springs, runnels, brooks, rivers,
underground reservoirs, clouds, saturated air, and of other water-
affected and water-containing substances), and science of water
and of liquids generally; (2d) Aerology — Meteorology and
sciences of lower and higher air constituents and currents,
clouds, air thermology and barology, relation of air to super-
aerial and sub-terrestrial, to animate and inanimate, and to
terrestrial phenomena generally, and (2e), general science of
gases ;

(d) General, Universal, and Non-Universal Physics, re-divided
each, as far as practicable, into General, Universal, and Non-
Universal.

5. (a) General Biology, comprising the fundamental properties
of organisms;

(b) Universal Biology — Sciences of protoplasm, cell, tissue,
organ, system of organs, organism, and their animate and in-
animate environment; development of living forms generally,
of particular species, of fertilised ovum to birth, of birth to
death and decay, and further development of particular species ;
Sciences of sensibility, nutrition and excretion, adaptation and
regeneration, growth, reproduction, senescence, and death;
heredity, variation, and evolution;

(c) Non-Universal Biology— General: (1) Botany — General,
Flowering and Flowerless Plants . . . ; (2) Zoology — General ;
Invertebrates : Annulates, Molluscs, Radiates ; Vertebrates : Mam-
malia, Birds, Reptiles, Amphibians, Fishes; Palaeontology, Em-
bryology, Anatomy, Histology, Physiology; Systems— Circula-
tory, Respiratory, Alimentary, Excretory, Reproductive, Skeletal,
Epidermic, Muscular, Nervous, Sensory, Cerebral . . .;

(d) General, Universal, and Non-Universal Biology, each re-
divided, as far as practicable, into General, Universal, and Non-
Universal.

6. (a) General Specio-Psychics, comprising fundamental pro-
perties of pan-human or species-produced culture;

(b) Universal Specio-Psychics— Sciences of societies, groups,
individuals, and their interrelations; Anthropology, Archaeo-
logy, Ethnography, Universal History, Socio-Geography, Demo-
graphy . . .;

(c) Non-Universal Specio-Psychics— General: History (of in-
dividual, and of minor and major social, civic, provincial, sub-
national, national, continental, and universal groups, institutions,
and products); Philology, Phonetics, Etymology, Grammar,
Gesture and Picture Languages, Telegraphic and other Signs
and Signals, Paleography, Epigraphy; Economics (Wealth pro-

26

402 PART V.— WORKING STAGE.

duction, accumulation, distribution, and consumption); Morals;
Religion; Politics; Law; Arms; Medicine (Hygiene, Dietetics,
Sanitation, Pathology, Insanity; Physician, Surgeon, Medical
Specialist) ; Education (home, school, vocational, and self-educa-
tion, training of teachers, principles and methods of educa-
tion); Play; Arts (letters— alliterative, rhyming, and blank,
metrical and non-metrical, verse; story, fiction, plays, appre-
ciations, criticism, description, essay, history; rhetoric— reading,
reciting, orating; melody — vocal and instrumental music; action —
acrobatics, athletics, dancing, acting, deportment, refinement;
realised imagery — drawing, decorating, painting [oil, fresco,
water colour], etching, engraving, sculpturing, and artistic
fashioning in all materials, architecture ; arranging — dress, furni-
ture, ornamentation generally, gardening, parks, town planning,
and artistic crafts and crafts so far as artistic) ; Crafts (innumer-
able); Vocational Activities; Psychology; Aesthetics; Methodo-
logy (Classical and Symbolic Logic, General and Special Methodo-
logy), Metrology (Arithmetic, Algebra, Geometry, Higher Mathe-
matics, Statistics, Graphics, Cartography, and, generally, measure-
ment of quantity, time, space, consciousness, degree, etc.);
Philanthropy, Internationalism; and Life;

(d) General, Universal, and Non-Universal Specio-Psy chics,
each re-divided, as far as practicable, into General,- Universal,
and Non-Universal.

7. The classification is to be systematically pursued, from
the widest abstract truth to the most intimate experience of
life or the smallest detail, and every sub-department, extensive
or restricted, is to be subdivided, as far as practicable, into
General, Universal, and Non-Universal.

§ 212. For methodological purposes of easy reference it
would be invaluable if a handy volume were prepared, supply-
ing in tables, charts, and by other means, a succinct survey
of the whole field of present-day knowledge. Tables of vary-
ing degrees of fulness would be needed to suit the convenience
of diverse classes of inquirers. At present methodological
thinking is slow, cumbersome, uncertain, and comparatively
ineffective, partly because of the difficulty of a comprehensive
grasp of a given sphere of knowledge. Systematic accounts of
a circumstantial character may be found in the best encyclo-
paedias, and also in good text-books and primers of special
departments, or groups of departments, of knowledge.1 Natur-
ally, each inquirer will, in addition, prepare special tables and
digests to suit his particular needs.

1 Darmstaedter's Handbuch der Geschichte der Naiurwissenschaften und
der Technik, may also be consulted with advantage.

SECTION 29.— FINAL STATEMENT. 403

SECTION XXIX.— FINAL STATEMENT.

CONCLUSION 34.
Need of Formulating a Final Statement.

§ 213. In an Interim Statement we embody the essence of
what we learn through observation, experiment, generalisation,
and verification. On the basis of this Conclusion, we proceed
to deduction of a theoretical and practical order. Having
accomplished this, we formulate the Final Statement which
strives to subsume the whole of the knowledge provided by
the enquiry, in order to avoid leaving the subject unsummarised
and in confusion. Substantially this Statement will be only
distinguishable from the Interim one by being richer on the
theoretical side and by simultaneously incorporating the practi-
cal teaching of our enquiry; and as we have found it con-
venient to adumbrate the Final Statement in Section XXV,
little remains beyond referring the reader to that Section. We
shall, therefore, confine ourselves to supplying an example.

The story of mankind from earliest times to to-day, illustrat-
ing man's dependence' on pan-human thought and endeavour,
may be said to reveal the following laws of human life:—

A. — Past, Present, and Future: —

(a) The law of the limitless accumulation and variation of
cultural or tool-made products, involving the subsidiary law
of the development of error and of cultural and social in-
equality ;

(b} The law of the limitless perfecting of cultural or tool-made
products, involving the subsidiary law of the elimination of
error and of cultural and social inequality;

(c) The law of the limitless growth of co-operation chrono-
logically and geographically, involving the subsidiary law of the
development and elimination of the spirit of excliisiveness ;

(d) The law of the limitless perfectibility of the individual,
involving the subsidiary law of the development and elimina-
tion of individual imperfections.

B.— Future:—

(a) The fact of the virtually completed accumulation and
variation of cultural or tool-made products, involving the sub-
sidiary fact of the virtual cessation of the development of error
and of cultural and social inequality;

(b) The fact of the virtually completed perfecting of cultural
or tool-made products, involving the subsidiary fact of the vir-
tually completed elimination of error and of cultural and social
inequality;

(c) The fact of the virtually completed growth of co-operation
chronologically and geographically, involving the subsidiary
fact of the virtually completed elimination of the spirit of ex-
clusiveness ;

26*

404 PART V.— WORKING STAGE.

(d) The fact of the virtually attained perfection of the indivi-
dual, involving the subsidiary fact of the virtual cessation of
the existence and development of individual imperfections.

C. — Present:—

(a) The resolve and striving to increase the accumulation and
variation of cultural or tool-made products, and to discourage
the development of error and of cultural and social inequality ;

(6) The resolve and striving to perfect cultural or tool-made
products, and to eliminate error and cultural and social inequality ;

(c) The resolve and striving to increase the growth of co-
operation chronologically and geographically, and to eliminate
the spirit of exclusiveness ;

(d) The resolve and striving to perfect the individual, and
to eliminate individual imperfections.

D. — Finally, this dependence of man, and man alone, on
pan-species thought and endeavour, may be said to be due to
the fact that man, and man alone, has reached the stage in the
general evolution of the intelligence (just beyond the higher
apes) where the thoughts of others can be freely assimilated,
this leading, in turn, to his native outfit coming to be adapted
to cultural instead of to natural selection and living, and this,
again, to men's dependence on pan-human thought and endeav-
our. On the practical side this involves the virtually complete
dependence of the individual on mankind as a whole for the
adequate satisfaction of his nature, and the shaping of the in-
dividual and group life on this presumption.

SECTION XXX.— REPORT STAGE.

•V

CONCLUSION 35.

Need of Being Concise, of Carefully Summarising, and of Writing

Acceptably.

§ 214. (A) CONCISENESS.— In the course of an enquiry, we
should endeavour to crowd into a sentence or a few sentences
each result obtained. It is advisable to proceed similarly when
preparing the publication of the conclusions, for, in the latter
circumstance also, the pithiest form of statement consistent with
perspicuity is, for many reasons, expedient.

§ 215. (B) SUMMARISING.— Following Bacon, we should
strive to compress the final result in a concisely worded formula
or set of formulae. Such a form of epitomising is in harmony
with the process delineated in § 111, and is attempted in Con-
clusion 34. Concise summaries of each chapter, of each part of
a volume, and a good table of contents and index, are desirable.

§ 216. WRITING ACCEPTABLY.— Much labour needs to be
consecrated to the ultimate grouping which should present the
conclusions in a brief, connected, luminous, and convincing form.

SECTION 31.— CONCLUSION CONCERNING CONCLUSIONS. 405

This arrangement, rigorously executed, will furnish the structure
of the essay or book. Nothing short of such a mode of grouping
is implied in the successful completion and publication of an
enquiry. A volume brightly and brilliantly written, dotted with
apt illustrations, prophetically inspired, sympathetic towards
fellow-labourers, distinguished by a rich and illuminating voca-
bulary and a clear and flowing style free from diffuseness and
acerbity, will materially enhance the probabilities of its conclu-
sions being attentively and impartially considered. A slovenly
or unconventional literary style retards in our age the recogni-
tion and the spread of truth. The investigator should, therefore,
acquire the difficult and beautiful art of writing well. On
the other hand, the perils inherent in this art are formidable.
A causeur will convincingly chat through a bulky volume ; one
who possesses a capacious memory will present with effect
countless superfluous and irrelevant illustrations; he who is in-
sinuating, imaginative, or emotional, will captivate his audience ;
the ponderously dogmatical or methodical mind will be im-
pressive; the sceptical or critical author will successfully deal
out destruction — all with disastrous consequences normally on
the progress of truth, where the intrinsic scientific requirements
are partially or entirely ignored.

PART VI.
CONCLUSION CONCERNING CONCLUSIONS.

SECTION XXXI.— CONCLUSION CONCERNING CONCLUSIONS.

CONCLUSION 36.

Need of Respecting each of the preceding Conclusions in all the

above Conclusions, of Improving them, and also of Applying them

to Non-Scientific Matters.

§ 217. (A) EACH CONCLUSION REFERS TO ALL CON-
CLUSIONS.—At this stage of the enquiry it is unnecessary to
intimate that each one of the foregoing Conclusions refers
more or less to all of them, inasmuch as the whole treatment
up to the present stage has evinced the oneness of the process
involved in scientific enquiry. Deduction, generalisation, ob-
servation, a disciplined memory, imagination, verification, and
definiteness should be resorted to, whether we determine any-
thing regarding this object at this moment, or whether we examine
some broad generalisation. Practically all the Conclusions and
Sub-Conclusions referring respectively to Observation, Gene-
ralising, Definition, Deduction, etc., as indicated in Conclusion 2,
need to be taken to apply with equal force to all of them and
not only to the particular Section in which they are circum-

406 PART VI.-CONCLUSION CONCERNING CONCLUSIONS.

stantially treated. It was obviously inexpedient to crowd the
Sections with repetitions, and only slightly more marked appro-
priateness decided under which heading a Conclusion should
be scheduled, e.g., the Conclusion dealing with verification.

§ 218. (B) IMPROVING THE CONCLUSIONS.— The series
of Conclusions submitted herewith make no pretence to forming
a self-contained and immutable system. Hence if they should
commend themselves as a whole, the methodologists of the
future will regard it as incumbent on them to improve the body
of Conclusions in wording and in substance, to supplement them
freely, to remove what is redundant, and to co-ordinate and fuse
them to the furthest degree. The Conclusions are the outcome
of over twenty-five years of conscientious examination and ex-
ploitation of the author's own experience and opportunities;
and there exists hence every reason for believing that others
who accept this volume as the point of departure for their life-
long methodological researches, will be able to improve thereon
substantially, apart from developing fresh sides — the practical
and pedagogical sides, for instance — of the general problem of
scientific methodology.

§ 219. (C) APPLICATION TO PRACTICAL LIFE.— In the
economic life, in politics and city management, home and school
education, art, play, the organisation of associations and con-
ferences, in ordinary life and thought, in the world of feeling
and willing, everywhere in short, the performing of actions on
the most extensive scale and in agreement with scientific canons
should be the invariable endeavour. The foregoing Conclusions
apply, therefore, as repeatedly stated and especially in Conclu-
sion 2, to the whole realm of human activity and not exclusively to
what is styled pure science to-day, and their influence is likely
to prove beneficial in the wider sphere as in the narrower.
Most especially should they be made the foundation of all educa-
tion and of the urgently needed reform of the material and
moral life of man. In industrial enterprise this broad conception
is fast gaining adherents, and, indeed, internationalism in every
form stamps more and more the activities and purposes of this
age, as was dramatically illustrated by the late War and by
the ruinous economic crisis which followed it. The narrow in-
dividualist view of each man relying mainly on himself is being
superseded, and it is presumably only a question of a few years
when it will be acknowledged that a scientific methodology
should guide men's cogitations and that the many valuable
reflections and methods of individuals should be methodically
collected, systematised, and disseminated broadcast.

§ 220. A generation ago the application of scientific methods
to the problems of industrial and commercial efficiency appeared
Utopian. Routine, common sense, incidental improvements, ruled
supreme, save in so far as machinery and organisation were
concerned. The idea of analysing a task into its component

SECTION 31.— CONCLUSION CONCERNING CONCLUSIONS. 407

elements, and then reconstructing it along purely scientific lines,
would have been dismissed as visionary. Employers would have
contended that such an investigation may occupy months and
even years; that it would interfere with production; and that
it could not materially improve the practice of their generation.
Yet to-day industrial methodology has reached in several direc-
tions almost the acme of scientific proficiency. The manner,
for instance, in which motion studies, whose aim is the reduc-
tion of human movements in operations to the lowest practicable
degree, are conducted, would probably not discredit the most
punctilious of physicists or chemists. Frequently a year/ or
even two years, are spent on doing justice to a single process;
machinery is created for the purpose; and the cost of such a
study would ruin many a small firm.

Hitherto only the more elementary processes and the organi-
sation aspects have been radically reconstructed (see Conclu-
sion 10 for reasoned summary); but this is merely because
one must begin with the lowest rungs of the ladder. Gradually
the problems of accuracy, resourcefulness, improvement, in-
vention and discovery, self-training, initiative, quickness of
decision, et hoc omne genus, will be just as thoroughly dealt
with — as movements of mind consisting of elements capable
of being arranged according to an exacting ideal and yet
readily acquired by the average individual — until an industrial
methodology will be elaborated of a character far exceeding
in thoroughness our present scientific methodologies. Com-
petition a generation ago induced employers to turn away with
scorn from the application of scientific methods to the problems
of efficiency. Competition to-day is leading many employers
to expend appreciable sums in order to increase the efficiency
of their establishments by having recourse to the scientific re-
organiser. Thus we are faced by the picture of the Cinderella,
Industrialism, coming to the aid of the Princess, Science, and
building up a system of methodology which is ultimately destined
to enhance prodigiously the progress of the physical, biological,
and specio-psychic sciences.

Commerce and Industry have therefore a great future before
them. Efficiency means elimination of waste, a studious care
not only of materials, but of human beings. Efficiency also
means training and organisation. The feverish competition of
the past, with the endless suffering which it entailed, the colos-
sal waste it was responsible for, and the poor type of morality
it encouraged, is hence bound to pass. Its place will be taken
by a system of production, accumulation, distribution, consump-
tion, finance, and insurance, based on scientific principles, and
conducted by communities rather than by individuals. The
stupid workman and the grasping capitalist will cease to be,
and individual productivity and general well-being will
greatly enhanced. Every factory and office will be a laboratory,

408 PART VL— CONCLUSION CONCERNING CONCLUSIONS.

and every worker and manager a miniature scientist. In a
word, the present economic system is industriously digging its
own grave and thoughtfully clearing the path for its successor.
What science has done for the growth and organisation of know-
ledge, it is beginning to do for the growth and organisation of
wealth. Stupendous progress in wealth production and well-
being may be therefore confidently anticipated.

Eventually, no doubt, the two methodological streams will con-
verge and travel down the ages as a single stream, each having
benefited the other. Before this, however, is realised, other
spheres of activity — education, public administration, law,
hygiene, medicine, domestic life, religion, art— will be seized
by the passion for scientific re-organisation, until science will
dominate the whole universe of man's life and thought.

The advent of the scientific efficiency movement offers thus
an auspicious omen for the triumph of the scientific method
in practical affairs. It represents the most hopeful sign of the
twentieth century, and probably spells the coming liberation
of humanity from the serfdom of drudgery, poverty, ignorance,
and barbarism.

To dwell for a moment on the relation between the efficiency
movement and the methodology of discovery. Thorough in its
way as the efficiency movement has been, the scientific founda-
tions were neglected, because, first, practical men were at the
head of the movement, men unskilled in the use of scientific
instruments, and, secondly, because the scientific studies by
means of dynamometer, ergograph, and the like, were not suf-
ficiently advanced to be of practical benefit. Ultimately, how-
ever, basis and superstructure must become equally scientific,
and the efficiency movement will be able to achieve its pur-
pose completely.

On the other hand, the efficiency movement has a profound
contribution to make to orthodox methodology. The latter's
attention was concentrated on what we might denominate ex-
ternals : truth and the mode whereby it may be reached. The
fitness of the organism — psychological and physiological— re-
ceived the scantiest attention. Yet the processes in discovery
are subject to the same laws as the processes in industry,
and if in the latter case far-reaching benefits accrue from an
analysis and reconstitution of the processes, advantages no
less desirable would ensue on a scientific analysis and basic
reconstruction of the elements constituting the process of dis-
covery on the subjective side. The prodigal waste of mental
and physical movements would be removed, swiftness and
labour- and time-saving methods would become universal,
strenuousness would be general, exhausting fatigue would be
reduced to a minimum, and everything tending towards rapidity
and efficiency would be standardised and practised. More than
this, the standardisation of efficiency processes will suggest the

SECTION 31.— CONCLUSION CONCERNING CONCLUSIONS. 409

standardisation of the processes of discovery, and the radical
reconstruction of industrial processes will suggest the radical
reconstruction of the general methodological process. Who
knows whether the waste of mind in scientific research is not
as great and detrimental at present as the waste of life under
the existing economic regime ? The two movements are, there-
fore, complementary, and destined to promote to a high degree
each other's ends.

Perhaps a word should be said regarding the scope of the
efficiency movement. It has been suggested that it constitutes
a revolutionary advance analogous to that of the introduction
of machinery in the closing years of the eighteenth century.
It differs, however, from the latter in several respects. Ma-
chinery, as in the textile and printing industries, increases
production sometimes more than a hundredfold, whilst, leaving
aside the higher reaches, the former can scarcely be said to
compare favourably in this respect: it may, speaking broadly,
increase the general productivity of our day three times under
favourable circumstances. On the other hand, whereas ma-
chinery is greatly restricted in scope, the efficiency movement
applies to every activity whatsoever. What it therefore misses
in intensity, it gains in extensity. The universality of its appli-
cability therefore differentiates it from machinery. At the same
time, in its higher reaches, it prodigally contributes to inventions
and new machinery, and therefore indirectly rivals machinery
in productivity. Moreover, and this represents another crucial
differentiation, the efficiency movement demands perfect physi-
cal fitness and decided mental preparation and satisfaction in
the worker, and thus abolishes for ever industrial exploitation
and intellectual inertia and obtuseness. Machinery, plus effi-
ciency, form hence the terminus of economic progress on the
higher as well as on the lower planes.

As a remarkable instance, illustrating the application of
science to industrial matters, we may regard the part played
by index numbers in (a) authoritatively fixing for a whole
country the relative increase or decrease in the cost of living,
and (b) forming the universally accepted basis for raising or
lowering wages in sympathy with the fluctuating cost of living.
Already, however, statisticians are beginning to move a step
further in order to decide on a minimum health-and-decency
standard of living which shall form an objective guide for fixing
"real" wages. Thus one of the most vital industrial problems,
the solution of which in any particular case was normally se-
cured at one time by the operation of casual prejudices and
crude speculation, is coming to be solved by the application
of a universal and purely scientific criterion. Nor is this all.
The attainment of a certain standard of living is conditioned
by a certain standard of individual productivity. Hence efforts
are beginning to be made to arrive at an average unit or in-

410 PART VI.— CONCLUSION CONCERNING CONCLUSIONS.

dex number of individual productivity corresponding to a reason-
able standard of life, and this will indubitably be followed by
successful endeavours to establish the educational, training,
workroom, and other conditions which shall yield this result.
Hence the inevitable intervention of science in industrial
affairs is bound to lead, among other things, to the realisation
of a tolerably high standard of universal well-being and to
a correspondingly high standard of average individual produc-
tivity.

§ 221. (D) PERFECTING AND SATISFYING HUMAN NA-
TURE AS A WHOLE.— The chief subject-matter of the thirty-
six Conclusions is the application of thought to the improvement
of thought. Since, however, intellect constitutes only one aspect
of psychic reality, the supplementary step should be encouraged
to apply thought to the purification and ennobling of the per-
sonal, moral, and aesthetic feelings and to the strengthening
and steadying of the will and character. In other words, the
thirty-six Conclusions ought to be strenuously applied to the
perfecting and satisfying of human nature as a whole. If our
object in this treatise has been mainly to improve the intelli-
gence, it is because knowledge is not only the one element
which grows almost to infinity with the ages, but is, when
truly apprehended, human nature groping for the means to
satisfy and perfect itself.

§ 222. (E) SUMMARY OF CONCLUSIONS.— The thirty-six
Conclusions may be thus epitomised for general purposes:
By habit and on principle intently, alertly, accurately, method-
ically, and rapidly observe, recollect, trace, generalise, deduce,
verify, apply, classify, define, and improve static and dynamic
facts separately and in combination, remaining always open-
minded.

(1) By habit — that is, always, unceasingly, spontaneously, as
a result of thorough training.

(2) On principle — consciously, unswervingly, courageously,
invariably.

(3) Intently — all the faculties continuously concentrated, stre-
nuously employed, avoiding over-confidence and over-anxiety.

(4) Alertly— allowing no fact to escape; unerringly noticing
exceptions and small items; all eyes and ears; keen; connect-
ing new with old and old with new.

(5) Accurately — habit of unerring accuracy; not overlooking,
exaggerating, understating, or mistaking anything.

(6) Methodically — developing every thought or suggestion
methodically, nothing material being slurred over and every-
thing material being embraced.

(7) Rapidly — with one means or instrument, with one single
bodily or mental movement, exerting just the necessary energy,
and with decided rapidity and pauselessness, to perform a
great many desired actions; not to hesitate unduly.

SECTION 31.— CONCLUSION CONCERNING CONCLUSIONS. 411

(8) Observe— shunning hearsay, being observant, and observ-
ing or examining minutely, widely, and exhaustively as to
space and time and circumstance ; considering nothing as com-
monplace, settled, or uninteresting; persistently re-observing
and re-examining for new facts; using instruments and ex-
periment wherever practicable; keeping the faculty of wonder
alive; being observant as to temporal, spatial, and ideational
environment and causes.

(9) Recollect — observing with a view to remembering and
recalling; guarding against a bad or unreliable memory by
keeping adequate and accurate notes ; training the memory and
utilising it in constructive thought.

(10) Trace — explain, follow, interpret, completely account for.

(11) Generalise — to generalise, when practicable, every single
static or dynamic fact to the entire class, and not only to a
second or third fact ; and at once, but step by step, to generalise
from one class to a countless number of other classes related
by degree and variety, until an imposing generalisation is, if
possible, reached; to aim at circumstantial generalisations and
not at mere empty and abstract propositions.

(12) Deduce— to deduce before being, and whilst, engaged in
generalising, and afterwards; to base a deduction on reliable
statements and test it adequately.

(13) Verify— to verify, re-examine, re-calculate a supposed
fact; carefully to traverse ground passed over before; to ex-
amine in order to test a hypothesis, deduction, or statement.

(14) Apply— to apply a theoretical truth in its corresponding
practical field, and convert a practical truth into a theoretical
one ; to let theory and practice minister to each other ; to utilise
every opportunity for as many purposes as possible.

(15) Classify— to classify results in an orderly manner, show-
ing at a glance what has been attained, and connect the re-
sults with other and larger classifications.

(16) Define— to define the principal terms and the main con-
clusions compactly and as exactly as possible; to let one's
reflections and statements tend to approximate rigid definiteness.

(17) Improve -always to think of how to improve upon what
one has achieved or is engaged on.

(18) Facts— facts, imaginings, statements, events, happenings,
processes, including the environment as a fact, factors, causes,
forces, movements, conditions, relations, facts of space, time,
and consciousness, and of number, degree, state, change, and
persona] equation.

(19) Open-minded— to regard all conclusions, results, and
statements as more or less subject to correction ; admitting the
possibility of error everywhere ; undogmatic, approachable, open
to reason.

412 PART VIL— GENERAL CONCLUSION.

PART VII.
GENERAL CONCLUSION.

SECTION XXXII. -GENERAL CONCLUSION.

§ 223. Regarded as a connected body of precepts, the fore-
going thirty-six Conclusions will probably be acknowledged as
novel in the aggregate; but, historically speaking, they only
seek to register the general advance of science. They attempt
to perform for modern methodology what Bacon initiated, but,
owing to a cruel fate and to the backwardness of the sciences
of his time, did not consummate. They allow for the process
of deduction and of mathematical treatment which Descartes
championed. They recognise the historic and organic continuity
of scientific discoveries. They encourage the conduct of en-
quiries as comprehensive and manifold as the development of
the sciences at any period permits, enquiries occupying, if
practicable, the space of a life-time. And, in respect of an
ultimate aim, they, in a modern way, seek, as the precepts of
Bacon and Descartes did, to improve human life in general.1
Bacon, guided by a very small number of highly developed
sciences, was at a distinct disadvantage in constructing his
methodology. In this we are more favourably placed.2 How-
ever, the author is far from assuming that the Conclusions
formulated in this treatise uniformly reflect, as in a faithful
mirror, scientific procedure at its best. He feels too deeply
conscious of their incompleteness and imperfection, to claim

1 "The true and lawful goal of the sciences is none other than this : that
human life be endowed with new discoveries and powers." (Bacon, Novum
Organum, bk. 1, 81.) "The project of a universal science which can raise
our nature to its highest degree of perfection." (Mahaffy, Descartes, p. 65.)
"There cannot be a greater mistake than that of looking superciliously upon
practical applications of science. The life and soul of science is its practi-
cal application, and just as the great advances in mathematics have been
made through the desire of discovering the solution of problems which were
of a highly practical kind in mathematical science, so in physical science
many of the greatest advances that have been made from the beginning of
the world to the present time have been made in the earnest desire to turn
the knowledge of the properties of matter to some purpose useful to man-
kind." (Lord Kelvin, Constitution of Matter, pp. 86-87.) Contrast these
citations with the first sentence of Poincare's La valeur de la science: "La
recherche de la verite doit etre le but de notre activite; c'est la seule fin
qui soit digne d'elle "; but possibly Poincare included in his affirmation both
theoretical and practical truths.

2 "A technical science appears after the art with which it is concerned,
has been for some time practised, and it reduces to rules that which has
already been successfully carried out by proficients in the art." (Sigwart,
Logic, vol. 2, p. 20.) Accordingly, the task of the twentieth century methodo-
logist is manifestly far simpler than that of the seventeenth century methodo-
logist.

SECTION 32— GENERAL CONCLUSION. 413

for them what John Stuart Mill claimed for his Canons: "The
mode of ascertaining those laws neither is nor can be any other
than the fourfold method of experimental inquiry." (Logic,
bk. 3, ch. 11, § 1.)

§ 224. There is nothing in the Conclusions submitted — method-
ised observation and computation, methodised recollection and
reasoning, methodised generalising and deducing, methodised
proving and defining, methodised application and methodised
resort to these Conclusions in combination and in strict sequence,
and a judicial and non-dogmatic attitude towards any important
or unimportant conclusion reached — which requires any sixth
sense, nothing which demands powers absent in ordinary mor-
tals.1 Who would seriously contend that the present practice
in most of the cultural sciences to frame hypotheses without
reference to a close study of the facts or to circumspect veri-
fication involves an inborn mental deficiency in those who
proceed in this manner? Or why should it be alleged that
generalising and deducing represent a process which could not
be methodically and successfully pursued by all normal and
trained individuals ? Or that systematic work generally, or that
objectivity, demands special aptitudes? If the marvellous
machines and social organisations which mankind has evolved,
stagger no sane individual, why should we conjecture that
methodological modes of procedure, which are equally the
outcome of ages of pan-human development, should be con-
genital in certain individuals and caviare to the average fully
trained person? In fact, when one compares men's attitude
towards nature and towards fables to-day and a few centuries
ago, it is manifest that much of scientific thinking has already,
where an educational system exists, penetrated into practically
all layers of society, and this advance betokens that there is
literally no limit to the general diffusion of methodological
modes of thinking. Those who regard the operations involved
in the process of discovery as a mystery, would in the past
have probably imagined that natural and social events are
originated by mysterious powers. In the one case as in the
other we are face to face with a transitional mode of viewing
the universe of things. Granted that everything valuable in
humanity is the product of ages of co-operative reflection, then
thought itself should be imagined as indefinitely improvable by
the gradual discovery of the most efficient ways of conducting
the human understanding. Superb by comparison with primitive
times as is our present civilisation, it will become sublime and
virtually divine when the twilight of variegated traditions is

1 Our analyses of the processes involved in accuracy, resourcefulness,
economy, improvement, and self-training, go far towards demonstrating
that all proficiencies are composed of elements which any normal indivi-
dual can assimilate.

414 PART VII.— GENERAL CONCLUSION.

scattered by the all-penetrating noon-day sun of a conscious
and fully elaborated methodology.1

Correct thinking is a pan-human product, whereas unscientific
thinking merely argues thinking without the aid of- a pan-
humanly developed scientific method. Concede that a scientific
method exists and is generally accepted and efficiently taught,
and the millenium of the intellect should not be far off. Or,
if this view should appear Utopian, it will scarcely be denied
that a relatively large minority would be able to profit sub-
stantially by the study of a body of Conclusions such as have
been submitted in this treatise.2

§ 225. Ultimately, the object of this methodology is to supply
a comparatively solid groundwork for the training of the masses
of mankind, assisting the teacher to raise the average intelli-
gence to a majestic level in comparison to the present one.
An analysis of the scientifically trained and the scientifically
untrained adult (Sections III and IV) justifies, we believe, such
a conception. Proximately, the aim of this methodology is:
(a) to supplement scientific tradition by a conscious general
scientific method; (b) to introduce the scientific spirit into every
line of enquiry and activity ; (c) to encourage more particularly
sound observation, sweeping though guarded generalisations,
careful verification, exact definitions, and extensive theoretical
and practical deductions, collectively applied in a certain se-
quence; and (d) to offer guidance to new sciences where, as in
the cultural sciences, no effective methodological traditions as
yet obtain.

1 "There are no special peculiarities inherent in the scientific mind."
(Prof. Arthur Schuster, in Presidential Address to the British Association
in 1915.)

2 "The course which I propose for the discovery of sciences is such as
leaves but little to the acuteness and strength of wits, but places all wits
and understandings nearly on a level." (Bacon, Novum Organum, bk. 1, 61.)
To which Professor Fowler rejoins: "Bacon's promise never has been and
never can be fulfilled." Of the two statements, Bacon's seems less extra-
vagant, we submit.

FINIS.

INDEX OF AUTHORS.

ADAMSON, R., 46.

Agassiz, L., 182-183.

Allen, G., 60-61, 183.

Ampere, A.-M., 396.

Anderson, R., 119.

Anon., 41, 83, 93, 107, 108, 209,

213-215, 242, 297.
Apelt, E. F., 135.
Aristotle, 32, 38, 39, 42, 53, 120, 149,

160, 167, 175, 186-187, 189, 212,

271, 335.

Arrhenius, S. A., 120, 375.
Ashley, M. L., 90.
Avebury, Lord, 42, 81, 271, 375.
Avogadro, A., 366.

BABBAGE, C., and Atherton, W.H.,435.

Bachstrom, 213.

Bacon, F., ii, 17, 42, 43, 44, 45-47,
48, 51, 53, 65-77, 84, 85, 87, 89, 92,
98, 104, 107, 113, 115, 118, 119, 122,
123, 126-128, 135, 139, 141-142, 145,
149-150, 163, 167, 181, 185, 216,
242, 255, 273, 275, 294, 309, 313,
317, 329, 343, 349, 365, 377, 378,
381, 384, 404, 412, 414.

Bacon, R., 45, 47, 85, 167.

Bain, A., 48, 82, 89, 99, 104, 119, 133,
146, 195-196, 272.

Balfour, H., 181.

Banerjea, 278, 281.

Barnard, H. C.,

Bates, H. W., 237.

Bateson, W., 184, 307.

Beatty, J., 263.

Beaumont and Fletcher, 66, 71, 72,
73, 74, 76.

Becquerel, A. C., 261.

Beethoven, 345.

Benn, A. W., 182.

Bentham, J., 396.

Bergson, H., 10, 31, 56, 67, 348.

Bert, P., 214.

Blanchard, A. A., 263.

Bloxam, C. L., 93.

Boas, F., 187, 274-275.

Boole, G., 41.

Boole, M. E., 192, 194.

Bosanquet, B., 20, 82, 90, 98, 99, 134.

Boyle, R., 327, 328, 360, 366.

Bradley, F. H., 51, 109.

Brahe, T., 92.
Brewster, D., 30, 94.
Bridges, J. H., 45, 46.
Brochard, V., 192.
Brooks, W. K., 93.
Brown, T., 154.
Browne, R., 78-79.
Browning, R., 333.
Bruce, H. A., 304.
Brunschvicg, L., 108, 127.
Buddha, 253.
Buffon, G. L. L., 182.
Burbanks, L., 264, 307.

CARKINS, G. N., 436.

Carnot, S., 331.

Caullet, P., 90, 329.

Chambers, R., 182, 273.

Charles, E., 45, 46.

Clifford, W. K., 123, 124-125.

Clodd, E., 237, 273.

Coffey, P., 135.

Coleridge, S. T., 75.

Comte, A., 20. 33, 34, 36, 37, 98, 104,

135, 147, 185, 191, 396.
Condell, H., 67, 67-68.
Condillac, E. B., ii, 11.
Confucius, 254, 295.
Copernicus, 92, 326.
CorneiUe, P., 72, 288.
Cornelius, C. S., 108-109.
Cournot, M., 396.
Couturat, L., 18, 90, 146.
Cramer, F., 11, 94-95, 96, 102, 108,

119, 146, 192, 193, 236, 257, 259,

264, 265, 297, 310, 320, 347, 366.
Creighton, J. E., 20, 100-101, 108.
Crookes, W., 310.

Crowther, J. A., 93, 246.
Curie, M. and Mme., 261.
Czapek, F., 81, 261, 311.

DALTON, J., 360, 366.

Darmstaedter, L., 402.

Darwin, C., 11, 49, 81, 83, 92, 94, 97,
102, 119, 146, 156-157, 166, 182-184,
192-194, 215, 236, 237, 259, 264,

265, 269, 271, 275, 280, 284, 288,
297, 305, 309, 310, 318, 319, 320-325,
335, 346, 349, 350, 358, 370.

Darwin, E., 182-183.

416

INDEX OF AUTHORS.

Darwin, F., 97.

Dastets, J., 135.

Davids, T. W. R., 436.

Davy, H., 93, 195.

De Morgan, A., 41.

Dendy, A., 384.

Descartes, R., 18, 21, 47, 53, 118-119,

145-146, 167, 181, 190, 307, 348,

412.

Desch, C. H., 307, 376.
Dewey, J., 192.
Digges, L., 67.
Dryden, J., 72, 73.
Duclaux, ii.

Duhamel, J.-M. C., 436.
Durell, F., 215.
Durkheim, E., 4.

EDISON, T. A., 376.

Einstein, A., 261, 319, 348, 374, 376,

377.

Ellwood, C. A., 117, 175.
Eucken, R., 182.
Euclid, 90.

FARADAY, M., 25, 52, 125, 259.

Farmer, R., 68.

Fechner, G. T., 29.

Fishberg, M., 138.

Fletcher, J., 73.

Flint, R., 31, 396.

Foster, M., 310.

Fowler, T., 48, 135, 243, 273, 414.

Franklin, B., 81.

Freud, S., 63, 158-159.

GALILEO, 83, 85, 167, 235, 381.

Galton, F., 83.

Garrick, D., 75.

Gay-Lussac, L. J., 360, 366.

Geddes, P., 157, 168, 173, 184,

383-384.
Geikie, A., 59.
Gibbon, E., 215.
Gibson, B. W. R., 243.
Giddings, F. H., 56, 228, 245.
Gilbert, W., 85, 167.
Gilbreth, F. B., 208.
Gilbreth, F. B., and L. M., 140, 208-209,

210, 212.
Giles, H. A., 356.
Goblot, E., 396.
Goethe, J. W., ii, 277.
Goldmark, J. C., 141.
Goodrich, E. S., 262, 263.
Graham, T., 366.
Gratry, A., 135.
Gray, A., 310.
Greene, R., 69, 76.
Grove, W. R., 93.
Gumplowitz, L., 117.

HADDON, A. C., 182, 185-187.

Harris, D. F., 361.

Hartmann, E. V., 63.

Hawkins, E. L., 135.

Helmholtz, H. v., 93, 113, 358.

Helmont, Van, 245.

Heminge, 67, 67-68.

Herbart, J. F., 29, 154.

Herschel, J., ii, 5, 20, 30, 45, 48, 49,

51, 59, 82, 87, 89, 107, 114, 115,

116, 117, 139, 183, 193, 198, 211,

276, 310, 326, 359, 371.
Hiorns, A. H., 275, 328.
Hobbes, T., 29.
Hobson, E. W., 130.
Houssay, F., 33.
Hutton, J., 345.
Huxley, T. H., 11, 82, 116, 136-137,

147, 214, 355-356.

ILES, G., 376.

JAMES, W., 63.
Jenner, E., 94.
Jevons, W. S., 47, 53, 59, 61, 80-81,

82, 83, 89, 98, 103. 108, 120, 125,

133, 213, 272, 276.
Johnson, S., 73-74, 76.
Jones, H. G., 36.
Jonson, B., 65, 66, 67, 68, 71, 72, 73.

74.

Jordan, D. S., 264.
Joule, J. P., 93.

KANT, J., 29, 56, 92, 146, 190, 192.

Keith, A., 108, 284.

Kellogg, M. L., 264.

Kelvin, Lord, 20, 125, 243, 810, 375,

412.

Kepler, J., 92.
Keynes, J. M., 437.
Kirkpatrick, E. A., 155.
Klimpert, R., 113.
Kopp, 337.

LACHELIER, J., 134.

Lamark, J. B., 92, 182-183, 237.

Lamb, C., 75.

Lankaster, R., 345, 375, 396.

Laplace, 19, 288, 326.

La Rochefoucauld, 103.

Lavoisier, 60, 314.

Lee, F. S., 208.

Lee, S., 67, 69, 75.

Legge, J., 438.

Leibniz, G. W., 18, 146.

Lempfert, R. G. K., 50, 78, 212. 280.

Leverhulme, Lord, 246.

Levy-Bruhl, M., 259.

Lewis, W. C. McC., 81.

INDEX OF AUTHORS.

417

Liebmann, O., 418.

Lister, Lord, 375.

Little, A. G., 45.

Locke, J., 47, 304.

Locy, W. A., 4, 57, 81, 297.

Loeb, J., 40, 103, 235, 295, 357.

Lotze, R. H., 42, 82, 83, 92, 102, 108,

134, 148, 272.

Lucretius, 21, 85, 167, 254, 267.
Luschan, von, 358.
Lyell, C., 59, 182.
Lyly, J., 69.
Lynch, A., 42.

MACAULAY, Lord, 1, 135-138, 141.

McBride, F. W., 40, 375.

McCabe, J., 268, 360.

Macdonald, J. S., 10.

McDougall, W., 155, 258.

McKillop, M., and A. D., 157, 208-209,
212, 304.

Mach, E., 6, 98.

Mahaffy, J. P., 190, 412.

Maier, 93.

Malebranche, N., 348, 374.

Malthus, 182.

Marett, R. R., 182.

Marlowe, C., 69.

Marmery, J. V., 46, 85.

Maxwell, J. C., 43, 93, 105.

Meeker, R., 266.

Mellone, S. H., 31, 90, 134.

Mendel, 184, 261, 307, 358.

Mendelyeff, 93, 338.

Meres, F., 69-70.

Metchnikoff, E., 40, 310.

Meyer, L., 93.

Milhaud, G., 438.

Mill, J., 29, 154, 304, 306.

Mill, J. S., ii, 2, 19, 39, 41, 44, 48-53,
56, 86, 87, 88, 89, 91-92, 97, 98,
115, 116, 117, 119, 132-133, 161-162,
175, 190, 193, 194, 196, 232, 243,
271, 272, 304, 305, 307, 310, 330,
349, 365, 413.

Minot, C. S., 81, 102, 120-121.

Minto, W., 42, 135.

Mitchell, P. C., 40.

Mitra, A. C., 135.

Montessori, Mme., 355.

Moore, B., 263, 297, 344, 374.

Morley, Lord, 295, 384.

Muensterberg, 396.

Mukerji, A. C., 135.

Murray, J. A. H., 299.

Myers, C. S., 209.

NADEN, C. C. W., 42, 44, 92, 133.
Natorp, P., 135.
Naville, E., 94.

Newbolt, 93.

Newton, I., 30, 81, 89, 94, 288, 335.

Nunn, T. P., 147.

PAPILLAULT, G., 182.
Paul, St., 392.
Payot, J., 201.
Pearson, K., 317, 396.
Phillips, E., 73.
Pitt-Rivers, A. L., 181.
Plato, 56, 296.
Pliny, 167.

Poincarg, J. H., 63, 132, 265.
Pope, A., 73.
Poynting, J. H., 105.
Ptolemy, 326.

RAMSAY, W., 107, 273, 310, 375.

Rayleigh, Lord, 83, 162, 306.

Read, C., 135.

Ribot, A., 192.

Riehl, A., 381.

Robertson, J. M., 365.

Robertson, T. B., 384.

Ross, E. A., 87.

Roth-Scholtzen, 45.

Rowe, N., 74.

Royce, J., 270.

Rumford, Count, 93.

Ruskin, J., 41.

Russell, B., 41, 47.

Rymer, T., 73.

ST.-HILAIRE, G., 182.

Sandys, J. E., 47.

Sargant, E. B., 156.

Sarton, G., 384.

Schopenhauer, A., 98.

Schuster, A., 317, 344, 414.

Scott, W. B., 182.

Seaman, L. L., 139.

Seward, A. C., 182.

Shakespeare, W., 4, 65-77, 277.

Shearman, A. T., 41.

Sidgwick, A., 39.

Sigwart, C., 92, 99, 100, 134, 148,

412.

Singer, C., 4.
Small, A., 214.
Smith, A., 215.
Smith, D. E., 45.
Soddy, F., 93, 202, 281.
Sophocles, 288.
Spencer, H., 64, 141, 157-158, 182,

362, 396.
Spiller, G., 11, 13, 22, 27, 35, 37, 62,

98-99, 183, 191, 255, 259, 277, 289,

291, 343, 351, 352, 364.
Spinoza, B. de, 129, 146.
Stopes, M., 265.

27

418

INDEX OF AUTHORS.

Stumpf, C., 113, 396.
Subrahmanyam, A., 135.
Swinburne, C. A., 75.

TANNERY, J., 131.

Taylor, F. W., 141, 195, 209-210.

Taylor, H. 0., 45, 46.

Tennyson, Lord, 253, 279, 281.

Thomson, J. A., 265, 376.

Thomson, J. J., 105.

Thorndike, L., 4, 46.

Thorpe, E., 59-60, 90, 93, 187, 310,

328, 358, 361, 375.
Trivedi, A. K., 135.
Turner, H. H., 79.
Tyler, E. B., 346.
Tyndall, J., 43, 52, 107, 113, 125, 162,

283.

UEBERWEG, F., 89, 134.

VENN, J., 83, 84, 346.
Vinci, L. de, 85.
Vogl, S., 47.
Vries, H. de, 184, 358.

WADE, F. B., 263.

Wallace, A. R., 145, 182, 237.

Ward, A. W., 75.

Watts, J., 102-103, 257.

Waxweiler, E., 279.

Weber, E. H., 29.

Webster, J., 70.

Weismann, E., 184.

Wells, Dr., 245.

Welton, J., 31, 52, 94, 99, 134-135.

Werner, K., 45.

Westaway, F. W., 187.

Whately, R., 41, 99, 133, 346.

Whetham, W. C. D., 81, 90, 93, 107,

275.

Wheatstone, C., 235.
Whewell, W., 1, 50, 52, 53, 133.
Whitehead, A. N., 41.
Williams, H. S., 375.
Windelband, W., 41.
Wolff, J. C. v., 29.
Wordsworth, W., 75.
Wundt, W., 29, 89, 134, 148, 396.

ZENO, 254.

INDEX OF SUBJECTS.

Absolutism and relativism in metho-
dology, 17-22; —will gradually dis-
place relativism, 21-22; the mind
is relativist in structure, 36, and
why, 38; relativist logic needed, 53;
absolutist statements, 56 ; absolutist
theory of generalisation, 101; law
of relativity applied to relation of
science to life, 169-170; relative
results and absolutist statements,
362; Einstein's theory, 376-377;
relativism in classifications, 396.

Abstraction, 142.

Accuracy, definition of, 130; 259-261;
initial and scrupulous — , 259; con-
ditions favouring — , 260.

Action at a distance, 5.

Administration, the basic reconstruc-
tion of public administrative acti-
vities, 202; reorganisation of pu-
blic — s on scientific and democratic
basis, 225; criticism of public — s,
311—312

^Esthetics, 19, 86, 103, 115-116, 194,
230, 277, 312, 318, 344, 345, 354,
370, 372, 410; spread of taste and
refinement, 21; study of — , 173;
basic reconstruction of art activities,
202 : education in — , 224 ; art pene-
trating all vocations, 229; religion
of art, 253; main problems of — ,
332.

Agriculture, ceasing to be empirical,
169; study of—, 172-173; method
in — , 281; scope of agriculturist's
interests, 315; main problems of — ,
333.

Alchemy and chemistry, 29; al-
chemists, 45.

Alertness, need of habitual, 308-312.

Analogy, danger and value of,
194-195.

Anthropology, 105, 194, 274-275, 280,
281, 293-294, 297, 346, 357, 358,
359; craniology, 185-187; ethnology,
188-189.

Appendicitis, 283.

Applied science, 32, 411 ; line between

pure and elusive, 7 ; under- and

over-emphasis of - • — , 8; science
and life increasingly approach each

other, 169; need of drawing practi-
cal deductions, 381-391 ; the process
of enquiry must include practical
deductions, 381-382, 383; Bacon's
rule, 384; adumbration of a scienti-
fic language, 384-391.

Archaeology, 21.

Aristotle, his method, 186-187; his
introduction to medieval Europe,
211-212.

Assumption, fundamental, pervading
this treatise, 1-3.

Astrologers, 45.

Astronomy, 5, 8, 21, 30, 57, 58, 84,
92, 94, 105, 107, 109, 114, 118, 120,
185, 194, 261, 267, 268, 276, 297,
317, 318, 319-320, 326, 332, 344,
345, 360, 376, 382, 393.

Atmosphere, 21, 344; composition
of — , troposphere and stratosphere,
273.

Authority, 32.

Bacon, Francis, as absolutist, 17-18;
on the nature of heat, and the pur-
pose of science, 42-43; on experi-
menting, 44 ; Shakespeare-Bacon
controversy examined, 65-68; on
deduction, 118; — and Descartes,
119; — on measurement and mathe-
matics, 126-128 ; criticism of — by
Macaulay, 135-142; what — com-
bated, 141 ; his case for a metho-
dology, 141-142; — on the scientific
thinker and on himself, 145; — 's
method, — on the mist of tradition,
150; historic explanation of — 's me-
thodology, 167.

Bacon, Roger, his methodological
position, 45-47 ; historic explana-
tion of his crudity, 167.

Bain, Alexander, on methodological
requirements, 146.

Beaumont and Fletcher, their praise,
71.

Bergson, on intuition, 10; reality as
a flux, 56; his defence of indeter- '
minism, 64.

Beri-beri, in the Japanese navy, 139,
309.

Biology, 19, 22, 28, 30, 58, 84, 86, 108,
115, 194, 270, 274, 294, 307, 312,

27*

420

INDEX OF SUBJECTS.

359, 362; organic evolution, man's
descent, vital chemistry, genesis
of life, 6; zoology and botany as
sciences, 7 ; localisation of sensory
and motor areas, problems of here-
dity, 19; nature of cell, ana-
tomy and physiology, 21 ; relation
of plants to air, sun, certain bac-
teria, earthworms, and flowers,
chlorophyll and non-living matter,
evolution and constitution of plants,
57 ; cells and molecular energy and
movements, 57; relation of phy-
siology to oxygen, 57 ; food di-
rectly transformed into energy, 57 ;
bacteria, 58, 261, 311; discovery
of glandular secretions, 58-59;
mentality of animals, 82-83, ex-
periment frequently difficult or
impracticable in — , 84; ruminating
and cloven hoofs, 86; composition
and structure of protoplasm, cell
nucleus, cytoplasm, 87; growth of
fertilised ovum, 102; organisms
with bilaterally symmetrical struc-
ture, 103 ; the essential facts of life,
107; number of species counted,
109; blood circulating both ways,
116; Arrhenius' theory of pan-
spermia, 120; terminology of botany,
128; scope of — , 173; flowers and
pollen-carrying insects, 194; Van
Helmont on the source of plant
substance, 245; respiration of plants,
hidden chlorophyll, plants obtaining
nitrogen through bacteria, roots and
marble plates, iron salts and growth,
261-262; process of karyokinesis,
262 (see enzymes, vitamines, inter-
nal secretions); Burbank's experi-
ments with flowers and fruits, 264 ;
local interrelations between plants,
264-265; deep-sea dredge, 268;
solubility of foodstuffs, 268; pro-
tective value of colouring, 268;
epidemics, death, 274; vital prin-
ciple 276; diseases and parasites,
277 ; wag-tail in summer and winter,
279-280; magpie in England and
Norway, 280; hooded crow, variety,
of dogs, plants on Alpine valleys
and Alpine heights, 280; demon-
strating the circulation of the blood,
296-297 ; alleged periodical renewal
of body, 308-309; two types of
twins, ground woodpeckers, lowland
and highland plants, 309; living
larvae from unfertilised eggs, 309;
phagocytes, 310-311; ether as
numbing pain, yeast, cell nucleus,
311; bisons and treeless spaces,

317; rats and epidemics, mosquitoes
and stagnant pools, alcohol and
resistance to disease, 317 ; moderate
and moist heats, dry and humid
climates, trees and rainfall, 317;
relation of cats to certain flowers,
318; fundamental biological accom-
panying uniformities, 318; cell-
making instinct of the hive-bee,
320-325; main problems of life, 332;
infectious diseases in plants and
animals, 333; combating of insect
and germ pests, 334; protoplasm,
335 ; fixation of nitrogen and other
substances by bacteria, 337 ; tem-
perature of trees and birds, 344;
seasonal plant metabolism, arterial
and venous blood, sterility and
fertility, 344; modified cells, bac-
teria and earthworms, effects of
alcohol and poison, 345; colour of
corpuscles, 346; analogy between
food and fuel, gland and lung, 348 ;
arterial sclerosis, reflexes, tropisms,
356; forced movements, 357; organ
of Corti, 358; effect of free oxygen,
358; nitrifying and heliotropic
organisms, bracing winds, excite-
ment, fatigue, 359; social life,
359-360; neighbouring plants, 360;
colouring in animate beings, re-
productive methods, elements in
organisms, live matter, 361; helio-
tropism, 362; hothouse, incubator,
371; medicine, 372; putrefaction,
375; living substance a fluid, 376;
use, disuse, and inheritance, 376;
the biologist must develop also the
life of practice, 382; practical aspect
of — , 383-384; botanical termino-
logy, 393; classification of animate
beings, anabolism and katabolism,
function and environment, parts
of organism, classification of plants,
vertebrates, foods, 393; classifica-
tion of animals, 396; outline
scheme of biological sciences, 397,
401.

Bradley, on Mills' Canons, 51.

Cancer, prevention of, 139.

Capital and labour, contention be-
tween, 237-239.

Cartography, 21.

Caste system, 170; — discrimination
to be abolished, 223.

Catalysers, 311.

Categories, 38, 268, 295, 306, 340, 353,
368; primary — applied, 233-234;

— applied to observation, 257, 259;

— applied, 354, 367; — re-stated,
398-400.

INDEX OF SUBJECTS.

421

Cause, induction and causal investi-
gations, 19; the world of causes is in
the microscopic, 26; Mill's Canons
deal with — s, Herschel and Bacon
on — s, 51 ; causal enquiries, 85-88 ;
importance of causal enquiries,
85-86, 88 ; proper conception of — ,
86; the causal view of nature not
exclusive, Mill on causal view of
induction, 86; relation to static
aspects, 86-88; generalised causes
should be sought, study of effects,
88; definition of — , 88; proofs of
causal facts, 115.

Chemistry, 19, 21, 30, 57, 58, 84, 86,
93, 105, 106, 107, 115, 274, 275,
345, 346, 360, 363, 393; the proto-
element, 5, 6, 17 ; allotropic forms,
prediction of elements, transmuta-
tion of elements, vital chemistry, 6;
ultimate relations of the elements,
17; nature of flame, 19; alchemy
and — , 29; production and reduc-
tion of organic compounds, their
qualities and internal arrangement,
existential relation of the elements,
87; nomenclature of — , 128; scope
of — , 173; presence in the air of
argon, helium, neon, krypton, and
xenon, 262 ; gun cotton exploded by
detonation, 263; allotropic forms,
273-274, 276; lower and higher
compounds, 276; isomeric aspects
of compounds, 281 ; study of valen-
cies, 297; Lavoisier on organic com-
pounds, 314; influence of heat on
chemical elements, and of cold on
life, 318; leading problems of — ,
332; elements and compounds in
process of decomposition, 337;
from ether to protoplasm, 344; the
energy necessary, for disintegrating
elements, 344; diffusion of gases,
356; helium, argon, 375; chemist
must develop also the life of prac-
tice, 382; chemical nomenclature,
393.

Child, study and education, 8; the —
mind, 22-25; influence of cultural
environment on — , 24; dependence
on human advance, social environ-
ment, and personal circumstances,
24; opportunities for methodological
training, 34; learning to write, 35;
increase in weight, 102; school sub-
jects and the — , 103 ; theory of the —
repeating man's history dubious,
103-104; — ren's alleged tendency
to generalise, 104; requirements
of — ren and adults, 281 ; moral edu-
cation of — , 290-293; educational.

possibilities in — ren, 304-306; in-
fectious diseases in — ren, 333.

Circumstances, Child's, 24; — favour-
able for investigators, 97; — alter
cases, 295.

Civics, study of, 17::.

Classification, 104, 153, 340, 349, 411;

— of the sciences, 3,30-31,338; con-
crete example of — of data. 227-230 ;
the process of — , 392-402; sum-
mum genus and infima species, 392;
ancient nomenclatures and termino-
logies, 393; classifying final results,
394-396; — s represent a historic
growth, 396; outline scheme of the
content of knowledge, 397; develop-
ment of outline scheme, 400, 402;
desirability of a volume giving a
succinct, survey of present-day
knowledge, 402.

Class interests, 26.

Comparison, 142.

Compass, relation of navigation to, 8.

Comte, on research regardless of
practical utility, 34; source of his
fundamental conceptions, 36-37;
his fifteen laws, 147; on articula-
tion of the sciences, 185; his plea
for an inter-specialist science, 197.

Concentration, need of — , in obser-
vation, 257; in scientific work ge-
nerally, 312; in generalisation, 326;
in deduction, 369.

Concept, 142.

Conservation and conservatism, justi-
fication of, 226; narrowmindedness
and conservatism, 334.

Conservation of energy, 5, 93, 331, 355.

Conservation of matter, 5.

Consumption, 283; prevention of — ,
139.

Co-operation, the life-breath of human
society, 3, 225; — in school, 103;

— in scientific work, 211-215; -
should be nation-wide and inter-
national, 211; — traceable to anti-
quity, 21 1-212; — ubiquitous to-day,
212-213; systematic — needed, 213;
advice, assistance, and criticism,
213; lack of -- highly prejudicial
to welfare and progress, 214; sug-
gested scheme of international -
in science, 214; — becoming in-
creasingly practicable, 214; -- in
industrial research and relations,
also in preparing legislation, 214-
215; need of — in every department
of life, 225; meaning of — , 372-373.

Cosmology, as science of sciences, 3,
22, 182; outline scheme of — ,
397, 400.

422

INDEX OF SUBJECTS.

Countries, study of, 174.

Criminology, 8 ; criminality, 361,362;
ground of punishment, 362.

Crystallography, 19, 86, 346; structure
of snowflakes, 261.

Culture, meaning of, 2; pan-human
origin of, 6, 378-380; problem of
heredity and — , progress of —
discussed, 156-157; test of — , 227;
man's cultural nature, cultural pro-
gress, and cultural possessions,
284-285; true — 361.

Darwin, Charles, freely adopted sug-
gestions from others, 94 ; — on the
deductive method, 119; on him-
self, 146; the bases of his work,
and his theory discussed, 182-184;
his method of dealing with pre-
judices, 192; his respect, for detail,
236; on not doing things twice,
259 ; on the relation of cats to cer-
tain flowers, 318.

Deduction, 29, 32, 44, 47, 52, 77, 109,
118-123, 150, 161, 365, 366, 411;

- will eventually become more
important than induction, 21, 117,
118; relation of sifted facts to — ,
29; Mills' claim regarding the de-
ductive process, 97 ; deductive veri-
fication, 114; verification is pro-
moted by lucidly expressed — s,
115; in — we descend from the
major to the minor, — forms an
essential part of scientific proce-
dure, definition of — , — especi-
ally fruitful and safe if based on
quantitative determinations, 118;
syllogism and deductive method,
deductive procedure frequently in
place, 120; a scientific — is ground-
ed on a sound generalisation, full
generalisations help — , — s un-
scientific if not rigidly verified,
121 ; — s useful, especially where
there are verified classes of facts,
121 ; — s best based on definitions,
129-130 ; deduction included in in-
ductive process, 134; place of —
in books of logic, 160-162 ; practi-
cal — becomes progressively ad-
missible *and obligatory as the
sciences develop, 169-170; concrete
example of theoretical — , 220-223;
and of practical deduction, 223-227;

- and verification, 364; process
of — , 369-381; — and generali-
sation, 369-371; example of — ,
372-373 ; example of unjustified — ,
374; examples of hypothetical — s,
374-377; extreme form of deductive
procedure, 377 ; example of metho-

dical and systematic — , 377-380:
explanation, 380-381 ; verification
imperative in — , 381.

Definition and definiteness, 44, 88,
118, 150, 368, 377, 411 ; importance
of terms, 128-129; slight or restrict-
ed studies lead to ambiguous — s,
129; statements should assume the
form of — s, 129-130; definiteness
in scientific work generally, 130,
245-255, and in statements, 255-256 ;
Wells on dew, Van Helmont on
water and plants, — of fact, class,
generalisation, law, 245 ; transcend-
ing momentary and local feelings
and experiences, 255, 295-296;
— of morality and co-operation,
372—373.

Degree determination, 343-354.

Democracy, life to be re-organised
on a strictly democratic basis,
225-226; meaning and problems
of — , 286; main problems of — ,
333.

Descartes, Rene, as absolutist, 18;
his method, 47; his philosophy,
118-119; -- and Bacon, 119; on
himself, 145-146.

Detail, science recognises no mere — ,
235-236, 312.

Diagram, — matic procedure, 194.

Dialectics, 356-363.

Diet, 8, 86, 382; study of — , 172;
influence of vitamines on — , 262
(see vitamines); problem of — etics,
314-315; food values, 359; cooking,
371 ; food factors, 372.

Dimensional theories, 347-348.

Discovery, Whewell, Macaulay and
others, on art of — , 1.

Dogma, 32.

Domestic activities, their basic re-
construction, 202; home education
should have its roots in science,
225.

Dreams, cause according to Freud,
158.

Earthquakes, 87, 105, 317, 333, 344,
382.

Economics, 3, 19, 21, 32, 105, 194, 312,
357; beginning of economic science,
7 ; economy in industries, utilisation
of waste products, improvement of
agriculture, scientific staffs in facto-
ries, artificial production of natural
substances, practical departments in
colleges, efficiency tests, 8; instru-
ments, 21; average man reasons
least unscientifically in his avoca-
tion, 27; economic anxieties lead
to neurasthenia, 159; caste system,

INDEX OF SUBJECTS.

423

introduction and supersession of
division of labour, 170; development
of trade unionism and combines, 171 ;
obstructions to progress, 192; the
basic reconstruction of economic
activities, 202; individuals should
command identical opportunities of
developing, labouring, and living,
and there should be one standard
of living and for reward of services,
224; vocational education, 224;
scientific and ethical basis for voca-
tions, 225; international standardi-
sation, 226; historical classification
of labour, 229; India's industrial
backwardness, 242; rendering truly
comparable unemployment, strike,
lock-out, and industrial accident
statistics, 246; wages and cost of
living for standard family, and as-
certainment of minimum require-
ments, 246; increase in productivity,
246; abolition of poverty, 252-253;
adequate living wage, shorter hours,
full employment, hygienic work-
places, and respectful treatment,
253; labour and leisure, 260-261;
annual cost of healthy and decent
living, 265-266; piece-work, gratui-
ties, wages, 274; idleness due to
economic chaos, 276; meaning and
problems of democracy, 287; notion
of living in comfort, 286-287 ; family
as the national unit, 287; rule
regarding study of social facts,
295-296; foulness of factory air, 297;
problem of adequate income for
all, 302-303; the wages problem,
303-304; output at different hours
of day, 309; causes of post-war
economic crisis, 315-316; main
problems of — , 332, 333; electricity
generated at the pits' mouth, water
power schemes, 333; motor road
traffic partly superseding railways,
prevention of energy waste, irriga-
tion, moratorium, 334; efficiency
and inefficiency, 344; exchange
problems, 359; causes of accidents,
types of men, industrial fatigue, 361 ;
economical use and distribution of
fuel and new sources of power, 372;
the Conclusions to be made the
foundation of the economic life,
406; index numbers relating to
the cost of living and forming
the basis of wage changes, mini-
mum health-and-decency standard,
minimum unit of individual pro-
ductivity, actualising this minimum,
409-410.

Economisation of activity, 35, 96;
— underlies generalisation, causes
of — , 98.

Education, 2, 3, 19, 228, 345, 370;
child study, 8; the — of man. 21;
rash generalising in regard to school
subjects, 103; children's alleged
tendency to generalise experiences,
104; study of — , 173; the basic
reconstruction of — al activities,
202; necessity of thorough — for all,
224; — should be moral, intellec-
tual, hygienic, aesthetic, and voca-
tional, 224; primary social necessity
to perfect — al ends and the methods
of educating teachers and child-
ren, 224; home — , 225; enormous
power of home and school — , 227;
moral — of children, 290-293; sim-
plest practicable case in — , 296;
fundamental — al problems, 304-
306; home and school — ,317; main
problems in — , 333; Montessori
method, 355; the Conclusions the
foundation of all — , 406.

Electricity, 57, 58, 87, 93, 105, 214, 344,
345, 364; electric lighting, heating,
and motive power, 7-8; relation to
wires in telegraphy, 311.

Electron, 58, 344, 349; matter perhaps
composed of — , 337.

Environment, 82 ; influence on child,
22; definition of — , 56-57 ; — al con-
ditions conducive to efficiency,
201-210; neglect and importance
of -al factor, 277-279; list of— al
factors, 279; methodological rules
relating to — , 278-279; general ac-
companying uniformities, 317-319,
and fundamental, 318.

Enzymes, 57, 263, 311.

Equality, human, 223-224.

Etheorology, 19, 30.

Ether, 344, 364; — as an Inert chemi-
cal element, 120.

Eugenics, 8; eugenists on "lower"
races and "lower classes", 122.

Evolution, 26, 57, 92, 101, 276, 281, 309,
345, 346-347, 349, 370, 375; — or-
ganic and human, 6, 87; — of or-
ganisms and worlds, 21; — of law,
117; Darwin's theory, 182-184;
\-ary method, 194; fluctuations
and mutations, 345, 358; man and
animal, 349, 350, 352; causes of — ,
361.

Exceptions, always to be looked for,
116,275-276,308-312,353; man an
exception, 122.

Experiment, 29, 32, 44, 80-85, 150,
306, 365; nature and definition of

424

INDEX OF SUBJECTS.

— , 80,82; prescientific and scienti-
fic observation, 80-81 ; scientific —
an extension of scientific observa-
tion, 80-81 ; — s regarding the men-
tality of animals, 82-83; direct — s,
and — s generally, not always prac-
ticable, favourable conditions for — ,
limitations of — al method, 84; ob-
servation,—and experience histori-
cally considered, 85 ; — al acquisition
of scientific procedure, 199; na-
ture's — , 279; improving the me-
mory— ally, 282-283; experimentum
crucis, 297; Mendel's — s, 307; un-
equivocal — s, 348.

Experts, 96; — responsible for veri-
fying theories they adopt, 122, 159,
255; — and bureaucrats, 332.

Fact, definition of, 56, 210, 245,411;
multiplicity of — s, 265 ; exhausting
classes of — , 317; scope of — , 326;
when — is explained, 365.

Fallacies, art of detecting, 39.

Faraday, on avoiding repetition, 259.

Fatigue, 140, 205-207, 208, 209, 359,
361.

Forgetfulness, cause according to
Freud, 158.

Freud, S., his theory of sex-pre-
dominance, 158-159; part played
by sex in normal life, 159 ; position
of semi-conscious thought in nor-
mal life, and origin of — 's theory,
159.

Gas light. Introduction of, 7.

Generalisation, 25-26, 27, 44, 51, 52,
58, 88, 118, 150, 161, 326-342, 364,
366, 411; J. S. Mill on approximate
— s, 19; — and convention, 20; — in
children, 23 ; to generalise is a matter
of mental economy, 25; unrestrained
generalising, relation of sifted facts
to — s, 29; exceptions to — s, 40;
scientists both observe and gene-
ralise, 52 ; relative scope of — and
observation, 61; — s should be
grounded on exhaustively studied
data, 78, 79 ; far-reaching antecedents
should be sought, 88 ; larger — s
grow out of smaller ones, 94; habit
of generalising, 97; examples of
systematic — , 97, 100; economisa-
tion underlies — , causes of econo-
misation, 98; definition of — , 99,
245; — succeeds observation, 99;
the nature of the "general", no-
thing "necessary" as a rule about
the fact and scope of — , 99-102;
preferability of term extension to
term — , 100; tendency of a popular
- to be widely extended, 100-101;

examples of casual — s, 101 ; —
frequently inappropriate, 102; — a
capricious habit now, 102; uni-
versalised speech, 102-103; con-
tradictory and rash — s, 103-104;
tendency to fix limits, training
encourages wary, yet bold — , 104 ;
we are mainly modifying existing
— s, 104-105; simple, compound,
and universal — s, 105; science not
only concerned with general facts,
105 ; position of complete or perfect
inductions, 106-109; great body of
fact as basis for a — , example, 109-
113; — s should be graded, etc., 113;
verification is promoted by lucidly
•expressed — s, 115; experimental
method of learning to generalise,
199-200; concrete example of — ,
220; definition of class, 245; con-
centration in — , 326; graded — s,
326-328; — s must be based on
ample data, 326; example of graded
generalising, 327-328; comprehen-
sive — s. 329-332; disadvantages of
fractional — s, 330; wide — s, 330-
331 ; important — s, 332-334; leading
problems awaiting solution, 332-
333; numerous — s, 334; full — s,
334-335; example of full — , 335;
rational and relevant — , 335-336;
original — s, and rules for promot-
ing originality, 336; automatically
initiated and methodically deve-
loped — s, 336-342; examples given,
340-342; postponing large - s, 342-
343; — s remain hypotheses until
verified, 363; — and deduction,
369-371; meaning of — , 411.

Genius, 53, individual contributions
of men of — , 1; great men as
summarise.rs, 3; methodological
status of the average man of the
distant future, 20, 33, 153, 414;
individuals never far in advance
of contemporaries, 30; the man of
— , his dependence and his limita-
tions, 36-37; Mill on superior minds,
52; Newton and the gravitation
hypothesis, 94 ; individual scarcely
more than a mirror of his age, 174;
the bases of Darwin's theory,
182-184; individual's investigation
has only contributory value, 189;
social advance should depend on
the many rather than on the few,
224; super-men and super-civilisa-
tion, 277; apparent inferiority of
African Negro, 278; some diffi-
culties in the — theory, 287-288.

Geography, 21, 84, 106, 295, 297, 382.

INDEX OF SUBJECTS.

425

Geology, 21, 57, 58, 59, 84, 87, 105,
108, 115, 173, 194, 276, 284, 307,
317, 344, 345, 361, 362, 375, 382.

Geometry, 21, 90.

Graphs, 109.

Habit, 39, 191-192,345,410; thought
as — controlled, 34-36; as result-
ing from the struggle for existence
among ideas, 38; its nature, 96,
353-354; — of generalising, 97,
336-342 ; generalising a capricious —
now, 102; — of methodical scienti-
fic procedure, 199-200; acquisition
of habits, 209; study of habits,
297-298; habitual alertness, 308-312.

Heat, 42-43. 58, 78, 86, 105, 276, 317,
343. 355, 368, 371-372, 375.

Heredity, 277, 352, 376; child mind
dependent on cultural rather than
on hereditary factors, 24; problem
of -*- and culture discussed, 156;

- in animals and man, 268-269.
Herschel, Sir J., on the character of

the true philosopher, 5; on Bacon
as the father of inductive logic,
45; his method, 49; on observa-
tional methods, 59; on causal view,
87 ; on liberty and licence, 89 ; on
ancient and recent species, 183; on
prejudice, 193; on hypotheses, 211;
on study of exceptions, 276.

Hibernation, 78-79.

History, 115, 194.

Homologies, importance of, 194,
269-270.

Huxley, L. T., on Bacon, 136-137;

- on the method of science, 147.
Hygiene, 2, 3, 19, 33, 169, 224, 382;

diet, exercise, clothing, moral sanity
and virility, 8; education in — ,
224; historical classification of —
and medicine, 230; religion of
health, 253; main problems of — ,
and the prevention of infectious
diseases, 333.

Hypothesis, 44, 52, 77, 89-98, 365;
convention and — , 20; Mill's re-
liance on hypotheses, 52; relation
of -- to observation, 59-60, 97;
logicians over-stress its importance,
89; definition of — , 89-90; the
terms supposition, conjecture, sur-
mise, suggestion, guess, assump-
tion, not equivalents of — , 91 ;
working — , 91, 288; Mill's view
of the formation of a — , 91-92;
a - - not a mere supposition, 92 ;
hypotheses have mostly a collec-
tive origin, 92-93 ; a — slowly de-
velops in the individual's mind,
93; Newton and the gravitation — ,

Darwin freely adopted suggestions
from others, .lenner as summariser,
1)4; all statements are assumptions,
95; genesis of hypotheses, 95-97;
Mill's hypothetical method, 97;
a — is frequently necessary to ob-
servation, 97; frequently almost
pure conjectures guide scholars,
98; a generalisation is a special
form of — , 98; verifying an un-
substantial — wasteful, 114-115;
proof of — , 115-117; need of sys-
tematically framing hypotheses,
210-211; wherever we use the
memory, we frame hypotheses, 210;
what a methodology must assure
as regards hypotheses, 210-211 ;
aiming at the most extensive hypo-
theses practicable, systematically
verifying, improving, and extend-
ing it, having a sound foundation
for it, 211 ; — in deductive pro-
cess, 373-374.

Hysteria, 158.

Imagination, 20, 364; scientific use of
— , 283-289; limited scope of — , 288.

Improvements, method of discovery
of, 97 ; each one can aim at — in
his or her vocation, 198; rules for
suggesting — , 336.

India's industrial immaturity due to
environmental causes, 242.

Induction, 32, 44, 45, 97, 132-142 ; -
will eventually become less im-
portant than deduction, 21, 118,119;
Descartes' attitude towards induc-
tion, 47; meaning of induction in
Mill, 51 ; Mill on causal view of — ,
86; position of complete or perfect
— s, 106-108, 118; mathematical
and inductive procedure essenti-
ally identical, 130-132; Mill's de-
finition of — , 132-133; definition
of — , 133, 134; deduction included
in inductive process, 134; Macaulay
on Bacon, 135-142; Huxley on
Bacon, 136-137; place of — in books
on logic, 161-162.

Infectious diseases, prevention of, 8,
139.

Insanity, cause according to Freud,
158.

Instinct, 20, 36, 52, 134, 294, 320-325;
theory of human conduct as prima-
rily determined by — s, definition
of problem, 155-156; — in animals
and man, 268-269.

Instruments, 21, 32, 150, 365; scienti-
fic — , wide employment of , *s:
use of -- in observation and ex-
periment, definition of — , use and

426

INDEX OF SUBJECTS.

non-use of — , 83 ; development of
— , 93 ; observation should be pre-
ferably instrumental, 268; value
of — , 306.

Internal secretions, 57, 262-263.

International academy, need of, 181 ;

— standardisation, organisation,
and co-operation, 226; — legislature,
judiciary, and administration, 226.

Intel-nationalisation, of methods, 21;
internationalism fast growing, 406.

Introspection, neglect of, 258-259.

Intuition and science, 10.

Irrationality, human thought essen-
tially irrational, 35-36.

Jenner, as an enthusiastic summa-
riser, 94.

Jews, stature of, 138-139.

Johnson, Samuel, his panegyric on
Shakespeare applies to the best
Jacobean play-wrights, 76.

Jonson, Ben, his praise, 71.

Kant, his "thing-in-itself", 56; — on
methodological requisites, 146.

Knowledge, man's chief weapon, 225;
-outline scheme of the content of
— , 397.

Language, as aid to thought, 25, 88;

— influenced by social progress, 37;

- as a scientifically fashioned in-
strument of thought, 153; Bacon
on non-scientific terms, 185; Bain
on influence of — , 195-196; univer-
sal — , 226; development of — , 229;
exact terminology, 242-244 ; clarity
of expression reacting on — , 256;
Tower of Babel, 276; origin and
nature of — , 298-302; problem of
ideal — , 302; main problems of — ,
332 ; affixes, 341-342 ; adumbration
of a scientific — , 384-391 ; — is a
vast repository of classifications,
392; terminologies and nomencla-
tures, 393; classification of — s,
393-394.

Law, masses of precedents compacted
into codes of — , 157; humanisation
of the — , 225; international legis-
lature and judiciary, 226.

Laws of nature, 365 ; difficult to dis-
cover them owing to the inter-
dependence of facts, 116; platitu-
dinarian laws, value of laws of
nature, 116; their meaning, 117;
their definition, 245.

Leibniz, on probable knowledge, 18;

— on the art of invention, 146.
Leisure, historical classification,'230;

labour and — , 260-261.
Light, 58, 105, 173, 359, 375; influence
of gravitation on — rays, 261.

Logic, state of, -- during the last
half century, 159-162; the deduc-
tive part of — , treatises on — con-
tain no references to deduction, and
the inductive part very few, 160;
the Aristotelian — misconceived,
160; misconception of science and
scientific method in — , 161-162.

Love, of the good, the true, the hy-
gienic, and the beautiful, 224, 227,
229, 230, 392; — of humanity,
228-229.

Macaulay, on Bacon's inductive me-
thod, 135-142; weakness of — 's
argument, 136-138.

Machinery, 32; universal employment
of — , 8.

Magicians, 45.

Magnetism, 58, 87, 93, 105, 107, 215.

Man, 86, 87, 106; — a zero, if thrown
back on himself, 1-3; definition
of—, 1, 220, 231; classification of
human facts, 2, 284-285, 394; — 's
descent, polygenetic theory of hu-
man purposes and actions, 6; eu-
genics, 8; methodological status of
the average — of the distant future,
20, 133, 153, 414; — 's story and
nature, his mind and the stages of
his life, 21 ; only collective — dis-
covers truth, 53 ; — and fatalism or
free-will, 56; average — and signi-
ficance of cultural phenomena, — 's
history, signs of the age, 57-58;
negroes and universities, 96-97;
Mill would apply his hypothetical
method in social science, 97 ; the
remote future will excel the pre-
sent as the latter excels the remote
past, 104 ; demographic facts, 109 ;
causes of the decline of Rome,
114; proof generally ignored in the
cultural sciences, 117; the eugenic
theory, 122, 286; advance due to
pan-species accumulation of slight
improvements, 149; problems of
instincts in — , heredity and cul-
ture, and historical advance of
culture discussed, 155-156 ; human
and animal intelligence contrasted,
194-195; problem of whether the
white race is greatly superior in-
tellectually, morally, and practi-
cally to all other races, 217-231;
— as the sentient being which
primarily depends on species-de-
veloped and environmentally-pre-
served culture, 220 ; theoretical and
practical deductions as to the na-
ture of — , 220-227; perfection,
supreme end, and sense of oneness,

INDEX OF SUBJECTS.

427

227; fundamentals, 227; cultural
differences due to cultural causes,
231; report stage, 231,404-405;
super-men and super-civilisation,
277; men and women, 277; apparent
inferiority of African Negro, 278;
result of acceptance of specio-
psychic theory, — 's cultural na-
ture and cultural progress, 284;
human life and animal life con-
trasted, 285; geographical features
influence social features, 317 ; hu-
man and animal mentality, —
and his tools, 350; crucial dis-
tinction between — and animals,
350, 352 ; East and West, 358 ; cul-
ture a pan-human product, 378-380;
outline scheme of specio-psychics,
397, 401-402; the three laws of
human life, an explanation of the
differential character of — , and
his consequent main duties, 404;
pan-human reflection leads neces-
sarily to an ever more perfected
methodology, 413.

Mathematics, 7, 19, 21, 29, 30, 32, 46,
108, 118, 150, 182, 267, 297, 306,
348/365, 368, 382, 393 ; Bacon's and
Descartes' view of — , 119; the case
for mathematical procedure, 123-
128; every science must needs
strive to be mathematical, 123;
difficulties involved in attaining to
complete exactness, 124-125 ; Fara-
day's lack of mathematical equip-
ment, 125; Francis Bacon on the
place of — in science and life,
126-128; at first avoid, later aim
at, mathematical formulation, 129;
identity of mathematical with non-
mathematical methodology, 130-
132 ; the mechanism of mathema-
tical invention does not sensibly
differ from that of invention in
genera], 132.

Matter and mind, 6.

Mechanics, 19, 28, 30, 84, 106, 118,
194.

Memory, 366, 411; - - in the un-
trained, 26; imperfection of — , 34-
36; its relation to generalisation,
98; wherever we utilise the — , we
frame hypotheses, 210; keeping
and consulting records, and im-
proving the — experimentally, 282-
283; why memory is to-day rela-
tively chaotic, 283; — and imagina-
tion, 283-289.

Mentality, ascertainment of — of
animals, 182-183, 195; comparison
between human and animal — ,

194-195,284-285, 350, 359; animal
and human — , 268-269.

Meridians, reduced to one, 157.

Meteorology, 19, 21, 50, 57, 58, 78,
106, 109, 215, 276, 280, 317, 344,
345, 361, 382, 393 ; scope of — , 17.'! :
main problems of — , 333.

Method, evolutionary significance of
term, 88, 166.

Methodology, alleged scope of, 1 ;
basis of — , 1-3, 7; a product of
pan-human civilisation, 3 ; — and
scientific management, 6, 408-410;
— and the unity of nature, 7; —
applies everywhere alike, 9 ; its
applicability to biology and socio-
logy questioned, 10 (see speciali-
sation); final results veil concrete
thought, 11, 20; the methodologist's
task is to ascertain how man thinks
at his best, 12; the methodologist
as discoverer, 12-13, 217 ; its limited
possibilities for the individual, dis-
tinction between methodologist and
discoverer, 12-13; why the older
logic was absolutist, 17 ; the newer
logic is relativist, tentative, and
progressive, 17-22; Bacon, Descartes,
and J. S. Mill as absolutists, 17-19 ;
the concrete process of discovery,
19; instinct, sagacity, imagination,
unjustifiably alleged as methods,
20, 134; progressive stages of proof
and of certainty, 20, 52, 162 ; — as
a progressive science, 20; methodo-
logical status of the average man
of the distant future, 20, 33, 153,
414; internationalisation of — , 21;
an absolutist — will become prac-
ticable in the distant future, 21-22;
child — , 24; — of scientifically
untrained adult, 24-28; men ignore
everything not palpable, obvious,
or usable, and also what is distant
in space and time, 26 ; average man
reasons least unscientifically in his
avocation, 27; how the untrained
meet perplexing problems, 27-28;
indispensability of methodological
training, 28; the "scientifically"
trained individual, 28-33; theory
and practice traditionally acquired,
why tradition is a bad teacher, 28 ;
degree of knowledge and generali-
sation and deduction, comparative
and genetic, methods, botanist >
judgment in politics or religion. 29;
scientists frequently unscientific
outside their sphere because of
absence of general —,29; — histori-
cally considered, 32; its commence-

428

INDEX OF SUBJECTS.

ment and goal, 33; scientific train-
ing dependent on a scientific — ,
- should be introduced without
delay, 34; — in colleges, 34; thought
as habit-controlled and as pan-
human, 34-36; correct thinking
dependent on historically developed
— , and not on new or rare mental
powers, 38 ; the progress of methodo-
logical theory, 38-53; syllogism
(see) ; symbolic logic (see) ; verbal
clearness and consistency first
demand, then methods of discovery,
41-42 ; methods applied by Bacon
in the discovery of the nature of
heat, 42-43; Bacon's method, and
why it is neglected, 43-44; the
skeleton of his method adopted
through Mill, 44; either return to
Bacon or transcend him, 44; Her-
schel's summary of Bacon's method,
45; trains of reasoning even less
reliable than the perceptions of the
senses, 47; Bacon and Descartes
respectively over-emphasised in-
duction and deduction, 47; proof,
not discovery, is the object of the
old logic, 48 ; certainty rarely attain-
able, nor usually to be sought for,
50; Mill on superior minds and on
instinct, 52; scientists both observe
and generalise, 52 ; Whewell, Jevons,
and Mill, as methodologists, 53;
relativist logic as the mistress of
the sciences, 53; alleged influence
of the unconscious, 63; conviction
that scientific method alone leads
to truth, 64-65; a bold guess and
verification favoured by logicians,
77; place and growth of scientific
experiment and observation, 84-85;
facts should be studied both stati-
cally and dynamically, 87; syn-
thetic — , 88; logicians mostly over-
stress the importance of hypotheses,
89 ; Mill would apply his hypotheti-
cal method in social science, and
other scholars drop verification as
well as observation, 97-98 ; position
of complete or perfect inductions,
106-108, 134; mankind is interested
in new truths, 108; law of averages,
109; scientific verification and proof
generally ignored in the cultural
sciences, 115-117; danger of un-
scientific theories, 122, 159; in-
dividual investigations should ex-
tend to a life-time, 129, 180-181,
329, 330, 333, 406; a science com-
mences in perplexing indefiniteness
and tends to terminate in dogmatic

definiteness, 129; precision in gene-
ral statements of utmost value,
129-130; Bacon's case for a — , 141;
methodological canons are fre-
quently ignored, 142; Bacon, Des-
cartes, Kant, Darwin, Bain, Spinoza,
Leibniz, Comte, and Huxley on the
conduct of the understanding, 145-
147; the expert thinker, the end
of an enquiry, the object, scope,
and aim of a scientific — , 148;
main injunctions focused in a
sentence, 149; methodological pro-
gress best summed in Aristotle and
Bacon, 149; present-day methodo-
logical practice, 150-155; what an
ideal — would do, 150; the in-
vestigator of the distant future,
153-154 ; need of recognition that
procedure should be determined
methodologically, 154-163; plan of
synthetic — , 163-166 ; two reserva-
tions, 165-166; a historic appre-
ciation of differences in methods
and in the scope of enquiries, 166-
174; difference between a Pliny or
a scholastic and a modern observer
due to growth in positive know-
ledge and in sounder methods, 167;
sciences follow each other accord-
ing to the degree of their com-
plexity, 168-169; science and life
increasingly approach each other,
169 ; practical workers promoting
pure science, 170; comprehensive
and synthetic enquiries becoming
possible, 172-174, and when in-
admissible, 174; general nature and
relations of phenomena, 174-179;
introductory category, 175 ; primary
categories (material modal, and pro-
cedure aspects), 175-179 ; secondary
categories, 179-180; salient prob-
lems of the age preferably to be
attacked, 180; inquirer's suitability,
181 ; simple starting-point a pre-
requisite, 181-185 ; the order of
fruitful investigation, 184, and per-
tinent rules, 184-185, 189; vagueness
and over-subtlety to be avoided,
185-189; a satisfactory solution
reached by a series of approxima-
tions, 188; individual's investigation
has only contributory value, 189-
235 ; formal rules barren, 190 ; far-
reaching effects of psychical pre-
judice, 190-193; Descartes, Kant,
Mill, and Comte, their emphatic
opinions, 190-191 ; psychical pre-
judices within the methodological
process itself, 193; recognised

INDEX OF SUBJECTS.

429

scientific methods, 194-195; utilis-
ing existing knowledge, 195-198;
ablest specialists encyclopaedic, 196,
235; importance of studying older
authors and history of science, 197;
difficulties of academic teachers,
197-198 ; regard for the future, per-
sonal equation, 198; personal equa-
tion and training, 198-199; course
of experimental preparation, 199-
201; mental, physiological, and
environmental conditions conducive
to efficiency and to waste elimina-
tion, 201-210; systematic framing
of hypotheses, 210-211 ; co-operation
in scientific work, 211-215; pro-
visional conception as to form en-
quiry should assume, 216-236; ob-
ject of provisional conception, 216;
to level wits, was Bacon's methodo-
logical end, 216; a result of an
ideal — , 217; need of a — , 225;
follow the leaders, 235; science re-
cognises no mere detail, 235-236;
precise nature of problem to be in-
vestigated, 236-242 ; exact termino-
logy and exact conclusions, 242-
245; we must become again, but
on a higher plane, dialecticians and
scholastics, 245; lucidity and ease
in expression, 255-256; examination
of the reality of alleged divisions,
273-282; methodological rules re-
lating to environment, 278-279 ;
influence of time and of position
in space and mind, 279-281 ; keep-
ing and consulting records, 282,
improving the memory, 283 ; scienti-
fic use of the imagination, 283-289 ;
continuous methodological control
of the thought process, 289-293;
erratic workings of the mind, 283 ;
rule regarding study of social facts,
295-296; search for simplest practic-
able case, 296-308 ; need of habitual
alertness, 308-312; what obtrudes
itself is generally indifferent scienti-
fically, 310; desirability of unremit-
ting concentration, 312; collecting
abundance of leading facts and
ascertaining the unlike as well as
the like, 313-316; exhausting classes
of facts and conditions, 317, and
also accompanying uniformities,
317-319; need of a critical attitude,
of provisional treatment, and of
repeated testing, 319-320; Darwin
systematically applied logical rules,
339; the terms Clear and Distinct,
348; residual phenomena, degree
sometimes indicates qualitative

differences, 349 ; parallel and other
instances, 355-356; dialectical
guides, 356-363; adequate examina-
tion, 361; plurality of causes, :{ii2:
dialectical model, 363; absolute
generalisations, 364; exhausting and
consolidating lines of enquiry and
aiming at balanced interim state-
ment, 366-368; the process of en-
quiry must include practical deduc-
tions, 381-391; judicious classifica-
tion necessary, 392-402; sumnnun
genus and inflma species, 392; out-
line scheme of the content of know-
ledge, 397; example of final state
ment, 403-404; preparing a metho-
dologically justifiable report, 404-
405; each Conclusion refers to all
Conclusions, 405-406; need of im-
proving the Conclusions, 406; appli-
cations of the Conclusions to practi-
cal life, 406-410; the Conclusions
should be made more especially
the foundation of the educational,
the industrial, and the moral life
of man, 406; perfecting and satisfy-
ing human nature as a whole, 410;
reasoned summary of Conclusions,
410-411; need of open-mindedness,
411 ; the Conclusions register the
general advance of science, their
aim, the body of Conclusions neces-
sarily imperfect, 412-413; the sub-
stance of the Conclusions, they do
not presuppose exceptional abilities,
413; pan-human reflection leads
necessarily to an ever more per-
fected — , 413; correct thinking a
pan-human product, 414; ultimate
and proximate aim of this — , 414.

Metric system, tending to be univers-
ally adopted, 157, and as model for
scientific language, 385.

Microscopes, 6, 26, 281.

Mill, J. S., as absolutist, his logic only
applicable to the last stages of an
enquiry, 19; his method, 48-53;
his debt to Bacon and Herschel,
48-49 ; his canons, and their de-
fects, 49-51, 115; dependence on
Whewell, 52; on causal view of
induction, 86,87; his view on the
formation of hypotheses, 91-92;
his definition of induction, 132-
133; — on prejudice, 193.

Mind and matter, 6.

Molecular world, 58, 245-246.

Morality, 2, 3, 19, 21, 86, 194, 361,
370, 392, 410; rule of conduct, 21.
227, 292, 339; in -- also the in-
dividual is dependent on acquired

430

INDEX OF SUBJECTS.

habits, 28; justification of moral
rules, 115-116; the vagueness of
ethical terms, 123, 128; ignoring
of scientific methods in ethical
research, 154, 259; study of — , 173;
one moral standard for all, moral
education, 224; definition of — ,
244-245; sex problem,. 246-250;
problem of ideal and conduct, 250-
251; religion of goodness, 253;
main facts of — , 259; main prob-
lems of — , 332-333; meaning of
some ethical terms, 355 ; definition
of — , 372; the Conclusions to be
the foundation of the moral life,
406.

Nationalism, 341.

Navigation and astronomy, 8.

Neurasthenia, 158.

Nomenclature, scientific, 128-129.

Nunn, T. P., on the scientific process,
147.

Object, 52; nature and definition of — ,
54-56.

Observation, 27, 44, 49, 52, 57-79, 88,
118, 150, 161,411 ; crude — and philo-
sophers, 31, 50-51; scientists both
observe and generalise, 52; material
factors not revealed to the unaided
sense and the unassisted reason,
57-58; presuppositions for scienti-
fic — , explanation of shells on.
mountains, Herschel on — , 59;
minute - - and the soil, 60-61;
scope of — , telepathic theories, 61-
62; increased thoroughness in — ,
when little or much — is neces-
sary, definition of — , 77; defence
of — , 79; scientific — closely ap-
proaches scientific experiment, 80;
domain of — , 84; evolution of scien-
tific — , 85; relation of — to hypo-
theses, 97; the term — includes
examination of every class of know-
ledge, 256 (see Section XXIII); in
— we seek for important resem-
blances, 256-257; utilisation of the
categories, concentration needed,
facts of perception as point of
departure, 257; — should be direct
and • original, 257-259; lax and
rigorous methods of — , 258; intro-
spection neglected, 258-259; main
facts of ethics, 259; accuracy 259-
261; initial and scrupulous accu-
racy, 259; conditions favouring ac-
curacy, 260; minuteness, 261-263;
wide, varied, and discriminating — ,
263-265; exhaustive or full — , 265-
266; quantitative — , 267-268; in-
struments and experiments, 268-

269; similarities, 269; relevant and
rational — , 270; rapidity and re-
sourcefulness, 270-272 ; examples
of rapid thinkers, 271; conditions
favouring resourcefulness, 271-272;
Lotze and others on — , 272; mal-
observations, 273; complex facts
regarded as simple, 273-276; simple
facts regarded as complex, 276-277 ;
environment, 277-279; influence of
time and of position, 279-282 ; me-
thods for ensuring easy, exhaustive,
and impartial — , 293-296; cell-
making instinct of the hive-bee,
320-325; fulness in — , 335; delicacy
in — , 348.

Pan-human, culture as, 2; thought
as — , 36.

Peace, compacts between nations
made uniform, 157; friendship
among nations and races, 225-226;
league of nations, 240-241 ; problem
of — and war, 241-242/251; com-
mon interests between nations, 314.

Periodic law, 50, 309, 338; collective
product, 93.

Philosophy, presupposes all sciences
as highly advanced, 31.

Phlogiston and combustion, 59-60;
positive levity of — , 309.

Physics, 7, 22, 58, 107, 128, 281, 284,
288, 307, 345, 346, 360, 365; the
three states of matter and tempera-
ture, 5-6, 318; unity of natural
forces, 17 ; X-rays, cathode rays,
Lenard rays, and gamma rays, 18;
rainbow, 61; cohesion and repul-
sion of particles and masses, 85-86;
gravitation, 94; connecting forces,
105, 332; electro-magnetic theory
of light, 105; reducing gases to
liquid and solid state, 105; law
of inertia, 106; colours of mother-
of-pearl, 107; Wells on dew, 245;
list of factors, 278-279; water, 281;
freezing water, 309; position of
argon and iodine, 309; Boyle's law,
327-328; definition of solid, liquid,
and gas, 328; specific gravity of
liquids, 337; from gases to solids,
34A; transition from liquid to
gaseous state, penetrating power of
rays, 345; solidity of water, 346;
ponderable nature of air, 348; va-
pour density, solubility, 358; mean
velocity of gas molecules, 361;
action and reaction, 362; explana-
tion of gaseous laws, 366-367;
physicist must develop also the life
of practice, 382; outline scheme
of—, 400-401.

INDEX OF SUBJECTS.

431

Plato, his permanent types, 56.

Politics, 19, 21, 26, 29, 345, 357, 359;
politicians and crowd psychology, 8;
study of — , 173; all discriminations
to be abolished, 223; importance
of numbers, 267.

Practice and theory, historical rela-
tion, 33, 169; what theory owes
to — , 33.

Prejudice, 155; — s in average man,
26; only what appeals tends to be
recalled, 27; far-reaching effects of
psychical prejudices, 190-193.

Probability, 26, 194; place in science
of — , 19.

Professional, the basic reconstruction
of — activities, 202.

Progress, methodology and historic
growth, 1-3; multiplication of
sciences, 7-9; historic affiliation
of the sciences, 30-31; a scientific
methodology indispensable for ra-
pid — , 38; human — first and
foremost cultural, 122, and pan-
humanly determined, 149; problem
of — and culture discussed, 156-
157; Spencer's view of — consider-
ed, 157-158; — entails eventually
the virtual abolition of error, in-
equality, and discord, 158; rapid

- in scientific enquiries dependent
on thoroughness, 185-189, and on
abundance of leading facts, 313;

- greatly impeded by prejudices,
192-193; lack of co-operation highly
prejudicial to — , 214; justification
of — , 226-227; -- in method the
highest type of — , 339-340; — from
eolithic times, 345; reality of —
illustrated, 350-351.

Proof, 88; for the untrained, — is a
matter of feelings, 91; definition
of — , 115; a synthetic methodology
permits readily of — , Mill's — s,
only search for relative certainty
practicable as a rule, certain canons
of approximate — , tests peculiar
to certain sciences, simple verifica-
tion, appeal to authority and educat-
ed thought and feeling, 115-116;
laws of nature highest — , 116;
through working hypotheses,
116; degrees of — to be sought, 117;
need of proving all conjectures,
363-365; modes of direct and in-
direct — , 364-365.

Protein, differs from species to spe-
cies, 84.

Psycho-analysis, 158.

Psychology, 19, 20, 30, 105, 128, 194,
346,355,362; compartment theory,

sensations, definition of — , 6; be-
ginning of - - as a science, 7;
psychological tests, — and educa-
tion, — of the crowd, 8; status of
the sense of touch, 23; vicissitudes
of — because of absence of a me-
thodology, 29-30, 258-259; obscure
mental processes, telepathy, sub-
consciousness, Bergson's indeter-
minism, 61-64; nature of sound,
109-113; ignoring of scientific me-
thod in psychological research, 154;
semi-conscious thought in normal
life, 159; problem of the sensations,
231-232, 316, 337-338, 345; intro-
spection, 258-259; reaction times
in — , 261; body's sensibility to
touch, 265; phrenology, senses, 274;
tripartite division, 275; nature of
emotions, 276-277; attention, 343,
345, 370; wakefulness and sleep,
344; binocular and monocular
vision, 359; types of men, 361;
nature of pain, 367-368; — applied
to industry, 382.

Pure and applied science, line be-
tween — elusive, 7 ; over-emphasis
of either, 8.

Quantitative determination, 80-81,
118, 269, 306, 314-346, B46, 352 ; —
observation, 267-268 ; numerous
generalisations, 334.

Race, 21, 242, 277, 341, 357, 358, 359 ;
mental capacity of white race and
other races respectively, 217-231 ;
all — discrimination to be abolish-
ed, 223; friendship among — s, 225-
226 ; polygenetic theory of — s, 276 ;
alleged incapacity of African Negro
to civilise himself, 278.

Radio-activity, 93, 107, 360-361.

Railway gauge, adoption of a single
one, 157.

Reading, general sources of informa-
tion, 198.

Reality, a flux in great measure, 56 ;
as not consisting of featureless
forces, 86 ; conflict between science
and — terminating, 170-172; thres-
hold of realistic age, 174.

Reasoning process, nature of, 289.

Regionalism, 341.

Relativism (see Absolutism). Radium,
52, 58, 275, 337; action of — emana-
tion on air, 261 ; paucity of — , 267.

Religion, 26, 29, 63, 64, 103, 109, 226,
328, 357, 358, 362; study of — , 17:5;
historical classification of — , 230;
nature of — , 253-255.

Resourcefulness, conditions favour-
ing, 271-272.

432

INDEX OF SUBJECTS.

Rewards and punishments, 224.

Rontgen rays, 93 ; — 's discovery, 310.

Rules of the sea and of warfare being
each reduced to a single system
of — , 157.
""Sanitation, communal, 8, 225.

Science, relation of — to methodo-
logy, 1 ; slow growth of — , 1 ;
classification of the sciences (see
Classification) ; uniformity and
unity of nature as basis of — , 4-11,
106; alleged limits to scientific
enquiries, linking up the forces
of nature, 5 ; domain of — , no
line between pure and applied — ,
7; applied -- in colleges, inter-
action between theoretical — , edu-
cation, and applied — , - - will
mould men's ideals, 8; — as dis-
tinguished from art, 9 ; the histori-
cal affiliation of the sciences, 9-10,
18, 30, 168-169, 181-182 ; - - and
intuition, 10; simple and complex
sciences, 10-11 ; specialisation (see);
molecular world the world of
master facts, difficulty of approach,
17; interdependent unity of nature,
words more' elusive than facts, 18;
units of the^-s, 19-20; the scientific
mass mind, 20; primitive chaotic
conception of the world being pro-
gressively reduced to order by — ,
21 ; with the ages — will render
easy the comprehension of the
world of fact, and nature and life
will be well understood and well
ordered, 21 ; the scientifically un-
trained adult, 24-28 ; difference be-
tween scientist and untrained adult,
25; things change insensibly, 26;
scientific advance only possible
from the simple to the complex,
31; swift scientific advance de-
pendent on the existence of a me-
thodology, 31 ; meaning and goal
of — , 31-32 ; meaning of — in the
remote future, 32 ; the world of —
and the world of common sense,
32; — will be a universal posses-
sion universally cherished, 33 ; as
— develops, it can busy itself more
and more with the life of practice,
33 ; scientific and speculative re-
sults, 41-42; Bacon on the purpose
of — , 42-43 ; - - concerned with
objects, 56; the object of — , 85,
180; reality as consisting of feature-
less forces, 86 ; world formula, 94 ;
- teaching, 103; — not only con-
cerned with general facts, 105-106;
a — commences in perplexing in-

definiteness and tends to terminate
in dogmatic definiteness, 129 ;
achievements of the pre-scientific
era, 145; sciences follow each other
according to their degree of com-
plexity, 168-169 ; conflict between
- and reality terminating, 170-
171 ; basic reconstruction of scien-
tific activities, 202; — as man's
guiding genius, 224-225; historical
development of — , 230: outline
scheme of the content of know-
ledge, 397 ; men's attitude towards
- to-day and some centuries ago,
413.

Scientific management, 32,169, and me-
thodology, 6; to revolutionise

industry and commerce, 9 ; illustra-
tions of , 140-141 ; significance

of , 141 ; processes and methods

in industry and commerce being
standardised, 157 ; individual capa-
city, 195; finding time for research,
197-198 ; mental, physiological, and
environmental conditions conducive
to efficiency and to waste elimina-
tion, 201-210; economy of purpose,
of volition, of sensations, of me-
mory, of movements, of time in
movements, of effort and fatigue
in movements, of thought and
feelings, of locality, accommoda-
tion, furniture, instruments, mate-
rials, machinery and material ener-
gies, of products, and of individual
action, 202-208 ; real economy de-
mands basic reconstruction, 208 ;
motion study and fatigue study,
acquisition of habits, hours of la-
bour, standard procedure and train-
ing, 208-210; establishment of in-
dustrial research associations, cal-
ling in the efficiency expert, growth
of collective bargaining and ar-
rangements in industry, and legis-
lation by consultation and agree-
ment with the parties concerned,
214-215; motion study, 261, scope
of movement, 314 ; and scienti-
fic experiments, 330 ; main prob-
lems of , 333 ; duty of psycholo-
gists to apply their minds to in-
dustrial problems, 382-383; im-
portation of classification in ,

394; the application of science to
industry and its relation to the --
— movement discussed, 406-409.

Scurvy, 139, 213, 214, 246.

Sex, Freud's theory of — predomi-
nance, 158-159; -- discrimination
to be abolished, 223; monogamy

INDEX OF SUBJECTS.

433

and equal authority in marriage,
224; unchastity and infidelity, 224;
marriage relations, 225, 226 ; family,
227; meaning of marriage and sex
education, 246-250; the family as
national unit, 287.

Shakespeare, on honey-bees, 4 ; Shake-
speare-Bacon controversy examined,
65-68 ; his status examined, 68-77 ;
his status, 77.

Sleeplessness, 138.

Society, necessity of — , 223; historic
growth of • and governments,
228.

Sociology, criticism of term, 2; be-
ginning of — as a science, 7 ; little
regard for scientific method in — ,
155.

Sound, nature of, 109, 113; metho-
dological defects in works on — ,
16^ ; whispering galleries and
acoustic clouds, 309.

Specialisation, as a historic phase,
11 ; over — as cause of stagnation,
162-163; development and super-
session of division of labour and
— , 170-174, 196, 197; narrow —
becoming a grave offence, 173 ;
ablest specialists are encyclopedic,
196; Comte's plea for an inter-
specialist science discussed, 197;
inconveniences of — , 329.

Specio-psychics, 19, 22, 30, as sub-
stitute for the term sociology,
2-3.

Speculation, 32, 77, 89, 225, 275, 343;
- offers a trap not a bridge, 114.

Spencer, Herbert, his view of pro-
gress discussed, 157-158.

Spinoza, on the conduct of the under-
standing, 146.

Standardisation, of products and
methods growing, 157-158; inter-
national — , 226.

Statement, concrete example of in-
terim — , 220, and of final — , 230
and 403-404.

Statistics, 267, 346; standardising of
Census and other — , 157, 267.

Subtlety, in argument prized, 155;
danger of — , 185-189.

Summary, general and special, of the
thirty-six Conclusions, 150-153.

Syllogism, 48, 99; its strength and
its weakness, 38-41 ; baneful effect
of syllogistic logic and its wide
prevalence formerly, 41.

Symbolic logic, nature of, does not
further research, 41.

Technology, 19.

Telegraphy, 235, 334.

Teleological factor, 35 ; — method, 194.

Telepathy, 61-62.

Telescope, 6.

Terminology, scientific, 128; need of
exact — , 242-244.

Theory, definition of, 210.

Tides, 317.

Time, 349, 362; importance in me-
thodology, 194; utilisation of exist-
ing knowledge, 195-198; import-
ance of studying older authors and
history of science, 197; regard for
the future, 198; effect of -, 267;
influence of—, 279-281, 318; provi-
sional treatment and repeated test-
ing, 319-320; value of delay, 320;
laws relating to the past, present,
and future of mankind, 403; men's
attitude towards nature to-day and
some centuries ago, 413.

Town-planning, 173.

Tradition, 155; why - - is a bad
teacher, 28; — and scientific train-
ing, 34; Bacon on the mist of — ,
150; mankind's dependence on
chaotic — s, 154; method to-day
mostly a matter of — , 154; — alism
as cause of stagnation, 162-163;
— al and inborn intelligence, 194-
195; superseded by a scientific
methodology, 413-414.

Training, why tradition is a bad
teacher, 28; tradition and scienti-
fic — , 34; advantages of — , 197;

— encourages discrimination, 104;
personal equation and injunctions

for self , 198-199; experimental

acquisition of scientific methods,
199-201; — of the worker, 210.

Tropism, 102.

Typewriter, universal keyboard fa-
voured for — s, 157.

Uniformity and unity of nature, as
pillars of science, 4-11; — they
imply the unity of nature and life, 7.

Universe, alleged mystery of, 5.

Verification, 44, 49, 52, 77, 94, 97,
150, 282, 411 ; definition of — , 113;
the rules relating to scientific ob-
servation hold with special rigour
of — , 113-114; — peculiarly marks
scientific enquiries, it may mean
examination, re-examination, cal-
culation, reasoning, feeling, 114;

— only profitable with sound hypo-
theses, 114, 211; — is simple and
deductive, 114; experts responsible
for verifying theories which they
adopt, 122; futile — , 338; the pro-
cess of — , 3( i.'J-. '»•''•"); methods of —
those of observation, .'Ml.

434 INDEX OF SUBJECTS.

Vitamines, not directly known, 18;- War, 26, 224, 226, 302,357; arma-

indispensable to life, 57; mistaken ments, 8; rules of warfare being

assumption, 90-91 ; fat-soluble fac- reduced to a single system of rules,

tor, 108; beri-beri, 139, 309; scurvy, 157; problems arising out of the

139, 213, 214, 246; accessory food world — : international police force,

factors, 172; influence of - - on limitation of armaments, league of

diet, 262, 262-263; deficiency dis- nations, peace and — , 239-242;

eases, 284, 309; value of * certain peace and — , 251-252; causes of

foods, 356-357; deficiencies "in pa- subsequent economic crisis, 315-316.

tent foods, 360. Whewell, his method, 52.

Volcanoes, 58, 87, 105, 317, 333. World Formula, 94, 98.

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THE TRAINING OF THE CHILD. A Parents' Manual-Revised
Edition, T. Nelson and Sons, Ld., London and Edinburgh.

THE MEANING OF MARRIAGE. A Book for Parents and
Teachers.— Watts & Co., London.