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diff --git a/76881-0.txt b/76881-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..012bf51 --- /dev/null +++ b/76881-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,27479 @@ + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 76881 *** + + + + + + THE MONIST + + A + QUARTERLY MAGAZINE + + VOL. III. + + CHICAGO: + THE OPEN COURT PUBLISHING CO. + 1892-1893 + + COPYRIGHT, 1893, + BY + THE OPEN COURT PUBLISHING CO. + + + + +CONTENTS OF VOLUME III. + + + PAGE + + ARTICLES. + + Auta, The Doctrine of. By C. Lloyd Morgan 161 + + Cruelty and Pity in Woman. By Guillaume Ferrero 220 + + Doctrine of Auta, The. By C. Lloyd Morgan 161 + + Education, Nationalisation of, and the Universities. By H. von + Holst 493 + + Evolutionary Love. By Charles S. Peirce 176 + + Foundations of Theism, The. By E. D. Cope 623 + + Founder of Tychism, The: His Methods, Philosophy, and Criticisms. + Editor 571 + + Fourth Dimension, The By Hermann Schubert 402 + + Hindu Monism. By Richard Garbe 51 + + Insects, The Nervous Ganglia of. By Alfred Binet 35 + + Intuition and Reason. By Christine Ladd Franklin 211 + + Issues of “Synechism,” The. By G. M. McCrie 380 + + Love, Evolutionary. By Charles S. Peirce 176 + + Man’s Glassy Essence. By Charles S. Peirce 1 + + Meaning and Metaphor. By Lady Victoria Welby 510 + + Mental Mummies. By Felix L. Oswald 30 + + Modern Science, Religion and. By F. Jodl 329 + + Monism, Hindu. By Richard Garbe 51 + + Nationalisation of Education and the Universities. By H. von Holst 493 + + Necessitarians, Reply to the. By Charles S. Peirce 526 + + Necessity, The Idea of: Its Basis and Its Scope. Editor 68 + + Necessity, The Superstition of. By John Dewey 362 + + Panbiotism, Panpsychism and. Editor 234 + + Panpsychism and Panbiotism. Editor 234 + + Reason, Intuition and. By Christine Ladd Franklin 211 + + Religion and Modern Science. By F. Jodl 329 + + Religion of Science, The. Editor 352 + + Renan: A Discourse Given at South Place Chapel, London. By Moncure + D. Conway 201 + + Reply to the Necessitarians. By Charles S. Peirce 526 + + Science, The Religion of. Editor 352 + + Superstition of Necessity, The. By John Dewey 362 + + “Synechism,” The Issues of. By G. M. McCrie 380 + + Theism, The Foundations of. By E. D. Cope 623 + + Thought in America, The Future of. By E. D. Cope 23 + + Tychism, The Founder of: His Methods, Philosophy, and Criticisms. + Editor 571 + + Universities, Nationalisation of Education and the. By H. von Holst 493 + + Woman, Cruelty and Pity in. By Guillaume Ferrero 220 + + LITERARY CORRESPONDENCE. + + France. By Lucien Arréat 111, 258 + + France, The Religious Outlook in. By Theodore Stanton 450 + + Germany. By Christian Ufer 264, 640 + + New French Books. By Lucien Arréat 456 + + Recent Evolutionary Studies in Germany. By Carus Sterne 97 + + CRITICISMS AND DISCUSSIONS. + + A Letter from Mr. Herbert Spencer 272 + + Comte and Turgot. By Louis Belrose, Jr. 118 + + Is Monism Arbitrary? Editor 124 + + James’s Psychology, Observations on Some Points of. By W. L. + Worcester 285 + + Logic as Relation Lore. By F. C. Russell 272 + + Mathematics a Description of Operations with Pure Forms. Editor 133 + + Reply to a Critic, A. By Edward T. Dixon 127 + + Sensation, Prof. Ernst Mach’s Term 298 + + Some Remarks Upon Professor James’s Discussion of Attention. By + Hiram M. Stanley 122 + + BOOK REVIEWS. + + _Acht Abhandlungen, Herrn Professor Dr. Karl Ludwig Michelet zum + 90. Geburtstag_ 478 + + Arréat, Lucien. _Psychologie du Peintre_ 142 + + Baets, l’Abbé Maurice de. _L’école d’anthropologie criminelle_ 649 + + Becker, George F. _Finite Homogeneous Strain, Flow, and Rupture + of Rocks_ 480 + + Berendt, M. and J. Friedländer. _Der Pessimismus im Lichte einer + höheren Weltauffassung_ 477 + + Binet, Alfred. _Les Altérations de la Personnalité_ 145 + + Blackwell, Antoinette Brown. _The Philosophy of Individuality, or + the One and the Many_ 649 + + Cattell, James McKeen, and George Stuart Fullerton. _On the + Perception of Small Differences_ 141 + + Delbœuf, J. _L’Hypnotisme devant les Chambres Legislatives Belges_ 318 + + Dessoir, Max. _Ueber den Hautsinn_ 319 + + Dixon, Edward T. _An Essay on Reasoning_ 138 + + Dreher, Eugen. _Der Materialismus, eine Verirrung des menschlichen + Geistes, widerlegt durch eine zeitgemässe Weltanschauung_ 479 + + Edinger, L. _Vergleichend-entwickelungsgeschichtliche und + anatomische Studien im Bereiche der Hirnanatomie. 3. + Riechapparat und Ammonshorn_ 648 + + Engel, Gustav. _Die Philosophie und die sociale Frage_ 478 + + Eucken, Rudolf. _Die Grundbegriffe der Gegenwart_ 650 + + Friedländer, J. and M. Berendt. _Der Pessimismus im Lichte einer + höheren Weltauffassung_ 477 + + Fullerton, George Stuart, and James McKeen Cattel. _On the + Perception of Small Differences_ 141 + + George, Henry. _A Perplexed Philosopher_ 482 + + Gutberlet, Constantin. _Die Willensfreiheit und ihre Gegner_ 646 + + Hiller, H. Croft. _Against Dogma and Free-Will_ 649 + + Hirth, Georges. _Physiologie de L’Art_ 143 + + Holtzmann, Heinrich Julius. _Hand-Commentar zum neuen Testament. + IV. Evangelium, Briefe und Offenbarung des Johannes_ 643 + + Holtzmann, Heinrich Julius. _Lehrbuch der historisch-kritischen + Einleitung in das neue Testament_ 150 + + Janet, Pierre. _État mental des hystériques les stigmates mentaux_ 648 + + Joël, Karl. _Der echte und der Xenophontische Sokrates_ 480 + + Jones, E. E. Constance. _An Introduction to General Logic_ 314 + + Lindemann, Ferdinand. _Vorlesungen über Geometrie_ 314 + + Lotze, Hermann. _Outlines of a Philosophy of Religion_ 140 + + Lubbock, John. _The Beauties of Nature_ 323 + + Meynert, Theodore. _Sammlung von populär-wissenschaftlichen + Vorträgen über den Bau und die Leistungen des Gehirns_ 151 + + Mik, J. _Graber’s Leitfaden der Zoologie für die oberen Classen + der Mittelschulen_ 322 + + Münsterberg, Hugo. _Beiträge zur experimentellen Psychologie_ 304 + + Oelzelt-Newin, Anton. _Ueber sittliche Dispositionen_ 323 + + Offner, Max. _Ueber die Grundformen der Vorstellungsverbindung_ 479 + + Paszkowski, Wilhelm. _Wie steht es jetzt mit der Philosophie, und + was haben wir von ihr zu hoffen?_ 478 + + Paulsen, Friedrich. _Einleitung in die Philosophie_ 466 + + Rolfes, Eugen. _Die Aristotelische Auffassung vom Verhältnisse + Gottes zur Welt und zum Menschen_ 311 + + Royce, Josiah. _The Spirit of Modern Philosophy_ 306 + + Royer, Clémence. _Recherches d’optique physiologique et physique_ 320 + + Salter, William M. _First Steps in Philosophy_ 470 + + Schellwien, Robert. _Max Stirner und Friedrich Nietzsche_ 311 + + Schmidt, Johannes. _Die Urheimath der Indogermanen und das + europäische Zahlsystem_ 149 + + Schmidkunz, Hans. _Der Hypnotismus in gemeinfasslicher Darstellung_ 317 + + Sharp, Frank Chapman. _The Æsthetic Element in Morality_ 650 + + Sidgwick, Alfred. _Distinction and the Criticism of Beliefs_ 312 + + Spencer, Herbert. _Social Statics and Justice_ 136 + + Sterne, Carus. _Natur und Kunst_ 323 + + Topinard, Paul. _L’Homme dans la Nature_ 146 + + Topinard, Paul. _L’Anthropologie du Bengale_ 322 + + Tufts, James Hayden. _The Sources of Development of Kant’s + Teleology_ 312 + + Verworn, Max. _Die Bewegung der lebendigen Substanz_ 321 + + Williams, C. M. _A Review of the Systems of Ethics Founded on + the Theory of Evolution_ 474 + + Wundt, Wilhelm. _Vorlesungen über die Menschen- und Thierseele_ 300 + + Wundt, Wilhelm. _Hypnotismus und Suggestion_ 315 + + Wundt, Wilhelm. _Grundzüge der physiologischen Psychologie_ 648 + + PERIODICALS 153-160; 325-328; 488-492; 651-658. + + APPENDIX. + + Plates belonging to the article “The Nervous Ganglia of Insects.” + (In No. 1 of this volume.) + + + + + VOL. III. OCTOBER, 1892. NO. 1. + + THE MONIST. + + + + +MAN’S GLASSY ESSENCE. + + +In _The Monist_ for January, 1891, I tried to show what conceptions +ought to form the brick and mortar of a philosophical system. Chief +among these was that of absolute chance for which I argued again in last +April’s number.[1] In July, I applied another fundamental idea, that of +continuity, to the law of mind. Next in order, I have to elucidate, from +the point of view chosen, the relation between the psychical and physical +aspects of a substance. + +The first step towards this ought, I think, to be the framing of +a molecular theory of protoplasm. But before doing that, it seems +indispensable to glance at the constitution of matter, in general. We +shall, thus, unavoidably make a long detour; but, after all, our pains +will not be wasted, for the problems of the papers that are to follow in +the series will call for the consideration of the same question. + +All physicists are rightly agreed the evidence is overwhelming which +shows all sensible matter is composed of molecules in swift motion and +exerting enormous mutual attractions, and perhaps repulsions, too. +Even Sir William Thomson, Lord Kelvin, who wishes to explode action at +a distance and return to the doctrine of a plenum, not only speaks of +molecules, but undertakes to assign definite magnitudes to them. The +brilliant Judge Stallo, a man who did not always rightly estimate his +own qualities in accepting tasks for himself, declared war upon the +atomic theory in a book well worth careful perusal. To the old arguments +in favor of atoms which he found in Fechner’s monograph, he was able to +make replies of considerable force, though they were not sufficient to +destroy those arguments. But against modern proofs he made no headway +at all. These set out from the mechanical theory of heat. Rumford’s +experiments showed that heat is not a substance. Joule demonstrated that +it was a form of energy. The heating of gases under constant volume, and +other facts instanced by Rankine, proved that it could not be an energy +of strain. This drove physicists to the conclusion that it was a mode of +motion. Then it was remembered that John Bernoulli had shown that the +pressure of gases could be accounted for by assuming their molecules to +be moving uniformly in rectilinear paths. The same hypothesis was now +seen to account for Avogadro’s law, that in equal volumes of different +kinds of gases exposed to the same pressure and temperature are contained +equal numbers of molecules. Shortly after, it was found to account for +the laws of diffusion and viscosity of gases, and for the numerical +relation between these properties. Finally, Crookes’s radiometer +furnished the last link in the strongest chain of evidence which supports +any physical hypothesis. + +Such being the constitution of gases, liquids must clearly be bodies in +which the molecules wander in curvilinear paths, while in solids they +move in orbits or quasi-orbits. (See my definition _solid_ II, 1, in the +“Century Dictionary.”) + +We see that the resistance to compression and to interpenetration between +sensible bodies is, by one of the prime propositions of the molecular +theory, due in large measure to the kinetical energy of the particles, +which must be supposed to be quite remote from one another, on the +average, even in solids. This resistance is no doubt influenced by finite +attractions and repulsions between the molecules. All the impenetrability +of bodies which we can observe is, therefore, a limited impenetrability +due to kinetic and positional energy. This being the case, we have +no logical right to suppose that absolute impenetrability, or the +exclusive occupancy of space, belongs to molecules or to atoms. It is +an unwarranted hypothesis, not a _vera causa_.[2] Unless we are to give +up the theory of energy, finite positional attractions and repulsions +between molecules must be admitted. Absolute impenetrability would amount +to an infinite repulsion at a certain distance. No analogy of known +phenomena exists to excuse such a wanton violation of the principle of +continuity as such a hypothesis is. In short, we are logically bound +to adopt the Boscovichian idea that an atom is simply a distribution +of component potential energy throughout space, (this distribution +being absolutely rigid,) combined with inertia. The potential energy +belongs to two molecules, and is to be conceived as different between +molecules _A_ and _B_ from what it is between molecules _A_ and _C_. The +distribution of energy is not necessarily spherical. Nay, a molecule may +conceivably have more than one centre; it may even have a central curve, +returning into itself. But I do not think there are any observed facts +pointing to such multiple or linear centres. On the other hand, many +facts relating to crystals, especially those observed by Voigt,[3] go to +show that the distribution of energy is harmonical but not concentric. +We can easily calculate the forces which such atoms must exert upon one +another by considering[4] that they are equivalent to aggregations of +pairs of electrically positive and negative points infinitely near to one +another. About such an atom there would be regions of positive and of +negative potential, and the number and distribution of such regions would +determine the valency of the atom, a number which it is easy to see would +in many cases be somewhat indeterminate. I must not dwell further upon +this hypothesis, at present. In another paper, its consequences will be +further considered. + +I cannot assume that the students of philosophy who read this magazine +are thoroughly versed in modern molecular physics, and therefore it +is proper to mention that the governing principle in this branch of +science is Clausius’s law of the virial. I will first state the law, +and then explain the peculiar terms of the statement. This statement is +that the total kinetic energy of the particles of a system in stationary +motion is equal to the total virial. By a _system_ is here meant a +number of particles acting upon one another.[5] Stationary motion is a +quasi-orbital motion among a system of particles so that none of them are +removed to indefinitely great distances nor acquire indefinitely great +velocities. The kinetic energy of a particle is the work which would +be required to bring it to rest, independently of any forces which may +be acting upon it. The virial of a pair of particles is half the work +which the force which actually operates between them would do if, being +independent of the distance, it were to bring them together. The equation +of the virial is + + (Transcriber’s Note: Italics have been removed from the + formulæ for readability.) + + ½Σmv² = ½ΣΣRr. + +Here _m_ is the mass of a particle, _v_ its velocity, _R_ is the +attraction between two particles, and _r_ is the distance between them. +The sign Σ on the left hand side signifies that the values of _mv_² +are to be summed for all the particles, and ΣΣ on the right hand side +signifies that the values of _Rr_ are to be summed for all the pairs of +particles. If there is an external pressure _P_ (as from the atmosphere) +upon the system, and the volume of vacant space within the boundary of +that pressure is _V_, then the virial must be understood as including +³⁄₂_PV_, so that the equation is + + ½Σmv² = ³⁄₂PV + ½ΣΣRr. + +There is strong (if not demonstrative) reason for thinking that +the temperature of any body above the absolute zero (-273° C.), is +proportional to the average kinetic energy of its molecules, or say _aθ_, +where _a_ is a constant and _θ_ is the absolute temperature. Hence, we +may write the equation + + aθ = ½m̅v̅²̅ = ³⁄₂PV̅ + ½ΣR̅r̅ + +where the heavy lines above the different expressions signify that the +average values for single molecules are to be taken. In 1872, a student +in the University of Leyden, Van der Waals, propounded in his thesis for +the doctorate a specialisation of the equation of the virial which has +since attracted great attention. Namely, he writes it + + aθ = (P + (c⁄V²))(V-b). + +The quantity _b_ is the volume of a molecule, which he supposes to +be an impenetrable body, and all the virtue of the equation lies in +this term which makes the equation a cubic in _V_, which is required +to account for the shape of certain isothermal curves.[6] But if the +idea of an impenetrable atom is illogical, that of an impenetrable +molecule is almost absurd. For the kinetical theory of matter teaches +us that a molecule is like a solar system or star-cluster in miniature. +Unless we suppose that in all heating of gases and vapors internal +work is performed upon the molecules, implying that their atoms are at +considerable distances, the whole kinetical theory of gases falls to the +ground. As for the term added to _P_, there is no more than a partial +and roughly approximative justification for it. Namely, let us imagine +two spheres described round a particle as their centre, the radius of +the larger being so great as to include all the particles whose action +upon the centre is sensible, while the radius of the smaller is so large +that a good many molecules are included within it. The possibility of +describing such a sphere as the outer one implies that the attraction +of the particles varies at some distances inversely as some higher +power of the distance than the cube, or, to speak more clearly, that +the attraction multiplied by the cube of the distance diminishes as the +distance increases; for the number of particles at a given distance +from any one particle is proportionate to the square of that distance +and each of these gives a term of the virial which is the product of +the attraction into the distance. Consequently unless the attraction +multiplied by the cube of the distance diminished so rapidly with the +distance as soon to become insensible, no such outer sphere as is +supposed could be described. However, ordinary experience shows that such +a sphere is possible; and consequently there must be distances at which +the attraction does thus rapidly diminish as the distance increases. The +two spheres, then, being so drawn, consider the virial of the central +particle due to the particles between them. Let the density of the +substance be increased, say, _N_ times. Then, for every term, _Rr_, of +the virial before the condensation, there will be _N_ terms of the same +magnitude after the condensation. Hence, the virial of each particle will +be proportional to the density, and the equation of the virial becomes + + aθ = PV̅ + c⁄V̅. + +This omits the virial within the inner sphere, the radius of which +is so taken that within that distance the number of particles is +not proportional to the number in a large sphere. For Van der Waals +this radius is the diameter of his hard molecules, which assumption +gives his equation. But it is plain that the attraction between the +molecules must to a certain extent modify their distribution, unless +some peculiar conditions are fulfilled. The equation of Van der Waals +can be approximately true therefore only for a gas. In a solid or +liquid condition, in which the removal of a small amount of pressure +has little effect on the volume, and where consequently the virial must +be much greater than _PV̅_, the virial must increase with the volume. +For suppose we had a substance in a critical condition in which an +increase of the volume would diminish the virial more than it would +increase ³⁄₂_PV̅_. If we were forcibly to diminish the volume of such +a substance, when the temperature became equalised, the pressure which +it could withstand would be less than before, and it would be still +further condensed, and this would go on indefinitely until a condition +were reached in which an increase of volume would increase ³⁄₂_PV̅_ more +than it would decrease the virial. In the case of solids, at least, _P_ +may be zero; so that the state reached would be one in which the virial +increases with the volume, or the attraction between the particles does +not increase so fast with a diminution of their distance as it would if +the attraction were inversely as the distance. + +Almost contemporaneously with Van der Waals’s paper, another remarkable +thesis for the doctorate was presented at Paris by Amagat. It related +to the elasticity and expansion of gases, and to this subject the +superb experimenter, its author, has devoted his whole subsequent life. +Especially interesting are his observations of the volumes of ethylene +and of carbonic acid at temperatures from 20° to 100° and at pressures +ranging from an ounce to 5000 pounds to the square inch. As soon as +Amagat had obtained these results, he remarked that the “coefficient of +expansion at constant volume,” as it is absurdly called, that is, the +rate of variation of the pressure with the temperature, was very nearly +constant for each volume. This accords with the equation of the virial, +which gives + + dp⁄dθ = a⁄V̅ - dΣR̅r̅⁄dθ. + +Now, the virial must be nearly independent of the temperature, and +therefore the last term almost disappears. The virial would not be +quite independent of the temperature, because if the temperature (i. +e. the square of the velocity of the molecules) is lowered, and the +pressure correspondingly lowered, so as to make the volume the same, +the attractions of the molecules will have more time to produce their +effects, and consequently, the pairs of molecules the closest together +will be held together longer and closer; so that the virial will +generally be increased by a decrease of temperature. Now, Amagat’s +experiments do show an excessively minute effect of this sort, at least, +when the volumes are not too small. However, the observations are well +enough satisfied by assuming the “coefficient of expansion at constant +volume” to consist wholly of the first term, _a_/(_V_). Thus, Amagat’s +experiments enable us to determine the values of _a_ and thence to +calculate the virial; and this we find varies for carbonic acid gas +nearly inversely to (_V_)⁰˙⁹. There is, thus, a rough approximation to +satisfying Van der Waals’s equation. But the most interesting result of +Amagat’s experiments, for our purpose at any rate, is that the quantity +_a_, though nearly constant for any one volume, differs considerably with +the volume, nearly doubling when the volume is reduced fivefold. This +can only indicate that the mean kinetic energy of a given mass of the +gas for a given temperature is greater the more the gas is compressed. +But the laws of mechanics appear to enjoin that the mean kinetic energy +of a moving particle shall be constant at any given temperature. The +only escape from contradiction, then, is to suppose that the mean mass +of a moving particle diminishes upon the condensation of the gas. In +other words, many of the molecules are dissociated, or broken up into +atoms or sub-molecules. The idea that dissociation should be favored +by diminishing the volume will be pronounced by physicists, at first +blush, as contrary to all our experience. But it must be remembered +that the circumstances we are speaking of, that of a gas under fifty +or more atmospheres pressure, are also unusual. That the “coefficient +of expansion under constant volume” when multiplied by the volumes +should increase with a decrement of the volume is also quite contrary +to ordinary experience; yet it undoubtedly takes place in all gases +under great pressure. Again, the doctrine of Arrhenius[7] is now +generally accepted, that the molecular conductivity of an electrolyte is +proportional to the dissociation of ions. Now the molecular conductivity +of a fused electrolyte is usually superior to that of a solution. Here is +a case, then, in which diminution of volume is accompanied by increased +dissociation. + +The truth is that several different kinds of dissociation have to be +distinguished. In the first place, there is the dissociation of a +chemical molecule to form chemical molecules under the regular action of +chemical laws. This may be a double decomposition, as when iodhydric acid +is dissociated, according to the formula + + HI + HI = HH + II; + +or, it may be a simple decomposition, as when pentachloride of phosphorus +is dissociated according to the formula + + PCl₅ = PCl₃ + ClCl. + +All these dissociations require, according to the laws of +thermochemistry, an elevated temperature. In the second place, there is +the dissociation of a physically polymerous molecule, that is, of several +chemical molecules joined by physical attractions. This I am inclined to +suppose is a common concomitant of the heating of solids and liquids; +for in these bodies there is no increase of compressibility with the +temperature at all comparable with the increase of the expansibility. +But, in the third place, there is the dissociation with which we are now +concerned, which must be supposed to be a throwing off of unsaturated +sub-molecules or atoms from the molecule. The molecule may, as I have +said, be roughly likened to a solar system. As such, molecules are able +to produce perturbations of one another’s internal motions; and in this +way a planet, i. e. a sub-molecule, will occasionally get thrown off and +wander about by itself, till it finds another unsaturated sub-molecule +with which it can unite. Such dissociation by perturbation will naturally +be favored by the proximity of the molecules to one another. + +Let us now pass to the consideration of that special substance, or +rather class of substances, whose properties form the chief subject +of botany and of zoölogy, as truly as those of the silicates form the +chief subject of mineralogy: I mean the life-slimes, or protoplasm. +Let us begin by cataloguing the general characters of these slimes. +They one and all exist in two states of aggregation, a solid or nearly +solid state and a liquid or nearly liquid state; but they do not pass +from the former to the latter by ordinary fusion. They are readily +decomposed by heat, especially in the liquid state; nor will they bear +any considerable degree of cold. All their vital actions take place at +temperatures very little below the point of decomposition. This extreme +instability is one of numerous facts which demonstrate the chemical +complexity of protoplasm. Every chemist will agree that they are far more +complicated than the albumens. Now, albumen is estimated to contain in +each molecule about a thousand atoms; so that it is natural to suppose +that the protoplasms contain several thousands. We know that while they +are chiefly composed of oxygen, hydrogen, carbon, and nitrogen, a large +number of other elements enter into living bodies in small proportions; +and it is likely that most of these enter into the composition of +protoplasms. Now, since the numbers of chemical varieties increase at +an enormous rate with the number of atoms per molecule, so that there +are certainly hundreds of thousands of substances whose molecules +contain twenty atoms or fewer, we may well suppose that the number of +protoplasmic substances runs into the billions or trillions. Professor +Cayley has given a mathematical theory of “trees,” with a view of +throwing a light upon such questions; and in that light the estimate of +trillions (in the English sense) seems immoderately moderate. It is true +that an opinion has been emitted, and defended among biologists, that +there is but one kind of protoplasm; but the observations of biologists, +themselves, have almost exploded that hypothesis, which from a chemical +standpoint appears utterly incredible. The anticipation of the chemist +would decidedly be that enough different chemical substances having +protoplasmic characters might be formed to account, not only for the +differences between nerve-slime and muscle-slime, between whale-slime +and lion-slime, but also for those minuter pervasive variations which +characterise different breeds and single individuals. + +Protoplasm, when quiescent, is, broadly speaking, solid; but when it is +disturbed in an appropriate way, or sometimes even spontaneously without +external disturbance, it becomes, broadly speaking, liquid. A moner +in this state is seen under the microscope to have streams within its +matter; a slime-mould slowly flows by force of gravity. The liquefaction +starts from the point of disturbance and spreads through the mass. This +spreading, however, is not uniform in all directions; on the contrary it +takes at one time one course, at another another, through the homogeneous +mass, in a manner that seems a little mysterious. The cause of +disturbance being removed, these motions gradually (with higher kinds of +protoplasm, quickly) cease, and the slime returns to its solid condition. + +The liquefaction of protoplasm is accompanied by a mechanical +phenomenon. Namely, some kinds exhibit a tendency to draw themselves +up into a globular form. This happens particularly with the contents +of muscle-cells. The prevalent opinion, founded on some of the most +exquisite experimental investigations that the history of science +can show, is undoubtedly that the contraction of muscle-cells is due +to osmotic pressure; and it must be allowed that that is a factor in +producing the effect. But it does not seem to me that it satisfactorily +accounts even for the phenomena of muscular contraction; and besides, +even naked slimes often draw up in the same way. In this case, we seem +to recognise an increase of the surface-tension. In some cases, too, the +reverse action takes place, extraordinary pseudopodia being put forth, +as if the surface-tension were diminished in spots. Indeed, such a slime +always has a sort of skin, due no doubt to surface-tension, and this +seems to give way at the point where a pseudopodium is put forth. + +Long-continued or frequently repeated liquefaction of the protoplasm +results in an obstinate retention of the solid state, which we call +fatigue. On the other hand repose in this state, if not too much +prolonged, restores the liquefiability. These are both important +functions. + +The life-slimes have, further, the peculiar property of growing. Crystals +also grow; their growth, however, consists merely in attracting matter +like their own from the circumambient fluid. To suppose the growth +of protoplasm of the same nature, would be to suppose this substance +to be spontaneously generated in copious supplies wherever food is +in solution. Certainly, it must be granted that protoplasm is but a +chemical substance, and that there is no reason why it should not be +formed synthetically like any other chemical substance. Indeed, Clifford +has clearly shown that we have overwhelming evidence that it is so +formed. But to say that such formation is as regular and frequent as the +assimilation of food is quite another matter. It is more consonant with +the facts of observation to suppose that assimilated protoplasm is formed +at the instant of assimilation, under the influence of the protoplasm +already present. For each slime in its growth preserves its distinctive +characters with wonderful truth, nerve-slime growing nerve-slime and +muscle-slime muscle-slime, lion-slime growing lion-slime, and all the +varieties of breeds and even individual characters being preserved in the +growth. Now it is too much to suppose there are billions of different +kinds of protoplasm floating about wherever there is food. + +The frequent liquefaction of protoplasm increases its power of +assimilating food; so much so, indeed, that it is questionable whether in +the solid form it possesses this power. + +The life-slime wastes as well as grows; and this too takes place chiefly +if not exclusively in its liquid phases. + +Closely connected with growth is reproduction; and though in higher +forms this is a specialised function, it is universally true that +wherever there is protoplasm, there is, will be, or has been a power +of reproducing that same kind of protoplasm in a separated organism. +Reproduction seems to involve the union of two sexes; though it is not +demonstrable that this is always requisite. + +Another physical property of protoplasm is that of taking habits. The +course which the spread of liquefaction has taken in the past is rendered +thereby more likely to be taken in the future; although there is no +absolute certainty that the same path will be followed again. + +Very extraordinary, certainly, are all these properties of protoplasm; +as extraordinary as indubitable. But the one which has next to be +mentioned, while equally undeniable, is infinitely more wonderful. It +is that protoplasm feels. We have no direct evidence that this is true +of protoplasm universally, and certainly some kinds feel far more than +others. But there is a fair analogical inference that all protoplasm +feels. It not only feels but exercises all the functions of mind. + +Such are the properties of protoplasm. The problem is to find a +hypothesis of the molecular constitution of this compound which will +account for these properties, one and all. + +Some of them are obvious results of the excessively complicated +constitution of the protoplasm molecule. All very complicated substances +are unstable; and plainly a molecule of several thousand atoms may be +separated in many ways into two parts in each of which the polar chemical +forces are very nearly saturated. In the solid protoplasm, as in other +solids, the molecules must be supposed to be moving as it were in orbits, +or, at least, so as not to wander indefinitely. But this solid cannot +be melted, for the same reason that starch cannot be melted; because +an amount of heat insufficient to make the entire molecules wander is +sufficient to break them up completely and cause them to form new and +simpler molecules. But when one of the molecules is disturbed, even +if it be not quite thrown out of its orbit at first, sub-molecules of +perhaps several hundred atoms each are thrown off from it. These will +soon acquire the same mean kinetic energy as the others, and therefore +velocities several times as great. They will naturally begin to wander, +and in wandering will perturb a great many other molecules and cause +them in their turn to behave like the one originally deranged. So many +molecules will thus be broken up, that even those that are intact will no +longer be restrained within orbits, but will wander about freely. This is +the usual condition of a liquid, as modern chemists understand it; for in +all electrolytic liquids there is considerable dissociation. + +But this process necessarily chills the substance, not merely on account +of the heat of chemical combination, but still more because the number +of separate particles being greatly increased, the mean kinetic energy +must be less. The substance being a bad conductor, this heat is not at +once restored. Now the particles moving more slowly, the attractions +between them have time to take effect, and they approach the condition of +equilibrium. But their dynamic equilibrium is found in the restoration of +the solid condition, which therefore takes place, if the disturbance is +not kept up. + +When a body is in the solid condition, most of its molecules must be +moving at the same rate, or, at least, at certain regular sets of rates; +otherwise the orbital motion would not be preserved. The distances of +neighboring molecules must always be kept between a certain maximum and +a certain minimum value. But if, without absorption of heat, the body be +thrown into a liquid condition, the distances of neighboring molecules +will be far more unequally distributed, and an effect upon the virial +will result. The chilling of protoplasm upon its liquefaction must also +be taken into account. The ordinary effect will no doubt be to increase +the cohesion and with that the surface-tension, so that the mass will +tend to draw itself up. But in special cases, the virial will be +increased so much that the surface-tension will be diminished at points +where the temperature is first restored. In that case, the outer film +will give way and the tension at other places will aid in causing the +general fluid to be poured out at those points, forming pseudopodia. + +When the protoplasm is in a liquid state, and then only, a solution of +food is able to penetrate its mass by diffusion. The protoplasm is then +considerably dissociated; and so is the food, like all dissolved matter. +If then the separated and unsaturated sub-molecules of the food happen +to be of the same chemical species as sub-molecules of the protoplasm, +they may unite with other sub-molecules of the protoplasm to form new +molecules, in such a fashion that when the solid state is resumed, there +may be more molecules of protoplasm than there were at the beginning. +It is like the jack-knife whose blade and handle, after having been +severally lost and replaced, were found and put together to make a new +knife. + +We have seen that protoplasm is chilled by liquefaction, and that this +brings it back to the solid state, when the heat is recovered. This +series of operations must be very rapid in the case of nerve-slime and +even of muscle-slime, and may account for the unsteady or vibratory +character of their action. Of course, if assimilation takes place, the +heat of combination, which is probably trifling, is gained. On the +other hand, if work is done, whether by nerve or by muscle, loss of +energy must take place. In the case of the muscle, the mode by which +the instantaneous part of the fatigue is brought about is easily traced +out. If when the muscle contracts it be under stress, it will contract +less than it otherwise would do, and there will be a loss of heat. It is +like an engine which should work by dissolving salt in water and using +the contraction during the solution to lift a weight, the salt being +recovered afterwards by distillation. But the major part of fatigue has +nothing to do with the correlation of forces. A man must labor hard to do +in a quarter of an hour the work which draws from him enough heat to cool +his body by a single degree. Meantime, he will be getting heated, he will +be pouring out extra products of combustion, perspiration, etc., and he +will be driving the blood at an accelerated rate through minute tubes at +great expense. Yet all this will have little to do with his fatigue. He +may sit quietly at his table writing, doing practically no physical work +at all, and yet in a few hours be terribly fagged. This seems to be owing +to the deranged sub-molecules of the nerve-slime not having had time to +settle back into their proper combinations. When such sub-molecules are +thrown out, as they must be from time to time, there is so much waste of +material. + +In order that a sub-molecule of food may be thoroughly and firmly +assimilated into a broken molecule of protoplasm, it is necessary not +only that it should have precisely the right chemical composition, but +also that it should be at precisely the right spot at the right time +and should be moving in precisely the right direction with precisely +the right velocity. If all these conditions are not fulfilled, it will +be more loosely retained than the other parts of the molecule; and +every time it comes round into the situation in which it was drawn in, +relatively to the other parts of that molecule and to such others as +were near enough to be factors in the action, it will be in special +danger of being thrown out again. Thus, when a partial liquefaction of +the protoplasm takes place many times to about the same extent, it will, +each time, be pretty nearly the same molecules that were last drawn in +that are now thrown out. They will be thrown out, too, in about the same +way, as to position, direction of motion, and velocity, in which they +were drawn in; and this will be in about the same course that the ones +last before them were thrown out. Not exactly, however; for the very +cause of their being thrown off so easily is their not having fulfilled +precisely the conditions of stable retention. Thus, the law of habit is +accounted for, and with it its peculiar characteristic of not acting with +exactitude. + +It seems to me that this explanation of habit, aside from the question +of its truth or falsity, has a certain value as an addition to our +little store of mechanical examples of actions analogous to habit. All +the others, so far as I know, are either statical or else involve forces +which, taking only the sensible motions into account, violate the law +of energy. It is so with the stream that wears its own bed. Here, the +sand is carried to its most stable situation and left there. The law of +energy forbids this; for when anything reaches a position of stable +equilibrium, its momentum will be at a maximum, so that it can according +to this law only be left at rest in an unstable situation. In all the +statical illustrations, too, things are brought into certain states +and left there. A garment receives folds and keeps them; that is, its +limit of elasticity is exceeded. This failure to spring back is again an +apparent violation of the law of energy; for the substance will not only +not spring back of itself (which might be due to an unstable equilibrium +being reached) but will not even do so when an impulse that way is +applied to it. Accordingly, Professor James says “the phenomena of habit +... are due to the plasticity of the ... materials.” Now, plasticity +of materials means the having of a low limit of elasticity. (See the +“Century Dictionary,” under _solid_.) But the hypothetical constitution +of protoplasm here proposed involves no forces but attractions and +repulsions strictly following the law of energy. The action here, that +is, the throwing of an atom out of its orbit in a molecule, and the +entering of a new atom into nearly, but not quite the same orbit, is +somewhat similar to the molecular actions which may be supposed to +take place in a solid strained beyond its limit of elasticity. Namely, +in that case certain molecules must be thrown out of their orbits, to +settle down again shortly after into new orbits. In short, the plastic +solid resembles protoplasm in being partially and temporarily liquefied +by a slight mechanical force. But the taking of a set by a solid body +has but a moderate resemblance to the taking of a habit, inasmuch as +the characteristic feature of the latter, its inexactitude and want of +complete determinacy, is not so marked in the former, if it can be said +to be present there, at all. + +The truth is that though the molecular explanation of habit is pretty +vague on the mathematical side, there can be no doubt that systems of +atoms having polar forces would act substantially in that manner, and +the explanation is even too satisfactory to suit the convenience of an +advocate of tychism. For it may fairly be urged that since the phenomena +of habit may thus result from a purely mechanical arrangement, it is +unnecessary to suppose that habit-taking is a primordial principle of the +universe. But one fact remains unexplained mechanically, which concerns +not only the facts of habit, but all cases of actions apparently +violating the law of energy; it is that all these phenomena depend upon +aggregations of trillions of molecules in one and the same condition and +neighborhood; and it is by no means clear how they could have all been +brought and left in the same place and state by any conservative forces. +But let the mechanical explanation be as perfect as it may, the state of +things which it supposes presents evidence of a primordial habit-taking +tendency. For it shows us like things acting in like ways because they +are alike. Now, those who insist on the doctrine of necessity will for +the most part insist that the physical world is entirely individual. +Yet law involves an element of generality. Now to say that generality +is primordial, but generalisation not, is like saying that diversity +is primordial but diversification not. It turns logic upside down. At +any rate, it is clear that nothing but a principle of habit, itself +due to the growth by habit of an infinitesimal chance tendency toward +habit-taking, is the only bridge that can span the chasm between the +chance-medley of chaos and the cosmos of order and law. + +I shall not attempt a molecular explanation of the phenomena of +reproduction, because that would require a subsidiary hypothesis, and +carry me away from my main object. Such phenomena, universally diffused +though they be, appear to depend upon special conditions; and we do not +find that all protoplasm has reproductive powers. + +But what is to be said of the property of feeling? If consciousness +belongs to all protoplasm, by what mechanical constitution is this to +be accounted for? The slime is nothing but a chemical compound. There +is no inherent impossibility in its being formed synthetically in the +laboratory, out of its chemical elements; and if it were so made, it +would present all the characters of natural protoplasm. No doubt, +then, it would feel. To hesitate to admit this would be puerile and +ultra-puerile. By what element of the molecular arrangement, then, would +that feeling be caused? This question cannot be evaded or pooh-poohed. +Protoplasm certainly does feel; and unless we are to accept a weak +dualism, the property must be shown to arise from some peculiarity of +the mechanical system. Yet the attempt to deduce it from the three laws +of mechanics, applied to never so ingenious a mechanical contrivance, +would obviously be futile. It can never be explained, unless we admit +that physical events are but degraded or undeveloped forms of psychical +events. But once grant that the phenomena of matter are but the result +of the sensibly complete sway of habits upon mind, and it only remains +to explain why in the protoplasm these habits are to some slight extent +broken up, so that according to the law of mind, in that special clause +of it sometimes called the principle of accommodation,[8] feeling becomes +intensified. Now the manner in which habits generally get broken up is +this. Reactions usually terminate in the removal of a stimulus; for the +excitation continues as long as the stimulus is present. Accordingly, +habits are general ways of behavior which are associated with the removal +of stimuli. But when the expected removal of the stimulus fails to occur, +the excitation continues and increases, and non-habitual reactions take +place; and these tend to weaken the habit. If, then, we suppose that +matter never does obey its ideal laws with absolute precision, but that +there are almost insensible fortuitous departures from regularity, these +will produce, in general, equally minute effects. But protoplasm is +in an excessively unstable condition; and it is the characteristic of +unstable equilibrium, that near that point excessively minute causes may +produce startlingly large effects. Here then, the usual departures from +regularity will be followed by others that are very great; and the large +fortuitous departures from law so produced, will tend still further to +break up the laws, supposing that these are of the nature of habits. +Now, this breaking up of habit and renewed fortuitous spontaneity will, +according to the law of mind, be accompanied by an intensification of +feeling. The nerve-protoplasm is, without doubt, in the most unstable +condition of any kind of matter; and consequently, there the resulting +feeling is the most manifest. + +Thus we see that the idealist has no need to dread a mechanical theory +of life. On the contrary, such a theory, fully developed, is bound to +call in a tychistic idealism as its indispensable adjunct. Wherever +chance-spontaneity is found, there, in the same proportion, feeling +exists. In fact, chance is but the outward aspect of that which within +itself is feeling. I long ago showed that real existence, or thing-ness, +consists in regularities. So, that primeval chaos in which there was +no regularity was mere nothing, from a physical aspect. Yet it was not +a blank zero; for there was an intensity of consciousness there in +comparison with which all that we ever feel is but as the struggling of a +molecule or two to throw off a little of the force of law to an endless +and innumerable diversity of chance utterly unlimited. + +But after some atoms of the protoplasm have thus become partially +emancipated from law, what happens next to them? To understand this, we +have to remember that no mental tendency is so easily strengthened by the +action of habit as is the tendency to take habits. Now, in the higher +kinds of protoplasm, especially, the atoms in question have not only long +belonged to one molecule or another of the particular mass of slime of +which they are parts; but before that, they were constituents of food of +a protoplasmic constitution. During all this time, they have been liable +to lose habits and to recover them again; so that now, when the stimulus +is removed, and the foregone habits tend to reassert themselves, they do +so in the case of such atoms with great promptness. Indeed, the return is +so prompt that there is nothing but the feeling to show conclusively that +the bonds of law have ever been relaxed. + +In short, diversification is the vestige of chance-spontaneity; and +wherever diversity is increasing, there chance must be operative. On the +other hand, wherever uniformity is increasing, habit must be operative. +But wherever actions take place under an established uniformity, there +so much feeling as there may be takes the mode of a sense of reaction. +That is the manner in which I am led to define the relation between the +fundamental elements of consciousness and their physical equivalents. + +It remains to consider the physical relations of general ideas. It may +be well here to reflect that if matter has no existence except as a +specialisation of mind, it follows that whatever affects matter according +to regular laws is itself matter. But all mind is directly or indirectly +connected with all matter, and acts in a more or less regular way; so +that all mind more or less partakes of the nature of matter. Hence, it +would be a mistake to conceive of the psychical and the physical aspects +of matter as two aspects absolutely distinct. Viewing a thing from the +outside, considering its relations of action and reaction with other +things, it appears as matter. Viewing it from the inside, looking at its +immediate character as feeling, it appears as consciousness. These two +views are combined when we remember that mechanical laws are nothing +but acquired habits, like all the regularities of mind, including the +tendency to take habits, itself; and that this action of habit is nothing +but generalisation, and generalisation is nothing but the spreading +of feelings. But the question is, how do general ideas appear in the +molecular theory of protoplasm? + +The consciousness of a habit involves a general idea. In each action of +that habit certain atoms get thrown out of their orbit, and replaced by +others. Upon all the different occasions it is different atoms that are +thrown off, but they are analogous from a physical point of view, and +there is an inward sense of their being analogous. Every time one of the +associated feelings recurs, there is a more or less vague sense that +there are others, that it has a general character, and of about what this +general character is. We ought not, I think, to hold that in protoplasm +habit never acts in any other than the particular way suggested above. On +the contrary, if habit be a primary property of mind, it must be equally +so of matter, as a kind of mind. We can hardly refuse to admit that +wherever chance motions have general characters, there is a tendency for +this generality to spread and to perfect itself. In that case, a general +idea is a certain modification of consciousness which accompanies any +regularity or general relation between chance actions. + +The consciousness of a general idea has a certain “unity of the ego,” +in it, which is identical when it passes from one mind to another. It +is, therefore, quite analogous to a person; and, indeed, a person is +only a particular kind of general idea. Long ago, in the _Journal of +Speculative Philosophy_ (Vol. III, p. 156), I pointed out that a person +is nothing but a symbol involving a general idea; but my views were, +then, too nominalistic to enable me to see that every general idea has +the unified living feeling of a person. + +All that is necessary, upon this theory, to the existence of a person +is that the feelings out of which he is constructed should be in +close enough connection to influence one another. Here we can draw a +consequence which it may be possible to submit to experimental test. +Namely, if this be the case, there should be something like personal +consciousness in bodies of men who are in intimate and intensely +sympathetic communion. It is true that when the generalisation of +feeling has been carried so far as to include all within a person, a +stopping-place, in a certain sense, has been attained; and further +generalisation will have a less lively character. But we must not +think it will cease. _Esprit de corps_, national sentiment, sympathy, +are no mere metaphors. None of us can fully realise what the minds of +corporations are, any more than one of my brain-cells can know what +the whole brain is thinking. But the law of mind clearly points to the +existence of such personalities, and there are many ordinary observations +which, if they were critically examined and supplemented by special +experiments, might, as first appearances promise, give evidence of the +influence of such greater persons upon individuals. It is often remarked +that on one day half a dozen people, strangers to one another, will take +it into their heads to do one and the same strange deed, whether it be +a physical experiment, a crime, or an act of virtue. When the thirty +thousand young people of the society for Christian Endeavor were in New +York, there seemed to me to be some mysterious diffusion of sweetness and +light. If such a fact is capable of being made out anywhere, it should +be in the church. The Christians have always been ready to risk their +lives for the sake of having prayers in common, of getting together and +praying simultaneously with great energy, and especially for their common +body, for “the whole state of Christ’s church militant here in earth,” +as one of the missals has it. This practice they have been keeping up +everywhere, weekly, for many centuries. Surely, a personality ought to +have developed in that church, in that “bride of Christ,” as they call +it, or else there is a strange break in the action of mind, and I shall +have to acknowledge my views are much mistaken. Would not the societies +for psychical research be more likely to break through the clouds, +in seeking evidences of such corporate personality, than in seeking +evidences of telepathy, which, upon the same theory, should be a far +weaker phenomenon? + + C. S. PEIRCE. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[1] I am rejoiced to find, since my last paper was printed, that a +philosopher as subtle and profound as Dr. Edmund Montgomery has long +been arguing for the same element in the universe. Other world-renowned +thinkers, as M. Renouvier and M. Delbœuf, appear to share this opinion. + +[2] By a _vera causa_, in the logic of science, is meant a state of +things known to exist in some cases and supposed to exist in other cases, +because it would account for observed phenomena. + +[3] Wiedemann, _Annalen_, 1887-1889. + +[4] See Maxwell on Spherical Harmonics, in his _Electricity and +Magnetism_. + +[5] The word _system_ has three peculiar meanings in mathematics. (_A._) +It means an orderly exposition of the truths of astronomy, and hence +a theory of the motions of the stars; as the Ptolemaic _system_, the +Copernican _system_. This is much like the sense in which we speak of the +Calvinistic _system_ of theology, the Kantian _system_ of philosophy, +etc. (_B._) It means the aggregate of the planets considered as all +moving in somewhat the same way, as the solar _system_; and hence any +aggregate of particles moving under mutual forces. (_C._) It means a +number of forces acting simultaneously upon a number of particles. + +[6] But, in fact, an inspection of these curves is sufficient to show +that they are of a higher degree than the third. For they have the line +_V_ = 0, or some line _V_ a constant for an asymptote, while for small +values of _P_, the values of (_d_²)_P_/(_dV_)² are positive. + +[7] Anticipated by Clausius as long ago as 1857; and by Williamson in +1851. + +[8] “Physiologically, ... accommodation means the breaking up of a +habit.... Psychologically, it means reviving consciousness.” Baldwin, +_Psychology_, Part III ch. i., § 5. + + + + +THE FUTURE OF THOUGHT IN AMERICA. + + +History teaches us the nature of the degenerative and destructive +agencies in national life. These are of various kinds, but they may be +generally included under the heads of Physical Vices, Superstitions, +and Selfish Ambitions. These have become possible through excess of +emotional, and deficiency of rational states of the mind. When a large +part of a population is influenced by emotional rather than by rational +modes of thought, unethical conduct has full opportunity, and suffering +and destruction are sure to follow. All races and nations are subject to +such disorders, if only in some cases during their periods of infancy and +of degeneracy. + +The peoples of Europe have difficulties and dangers which are due to +their own peculiar situation. The people of North America have to meet +certain risks of a somewhat different character, owing to our peculiar +position. In Europe we see an accumulation of many races who reached +their _Ultima Thule_ at the coast of the Atlantic, and who have had +to accommodate themselves to each other as best they could. Speaking +different languages and having different political organisations, they +have consolidated into separate nations. This result has only been +reached after many conflicts, and the result has been the combination and +absorption of smaller states into greater, such as we find them to-day. +This result has not terminated conflicts; it has reduced their frequency +but has increased their scope and importance. To-day the antagonisms of +these nations impose great burdens upon them, but they are at the same +time productive of great good. + +With men as with other animals excellence is the result of use and +exercise. With animals this exercise has been compulsory, and has been +due largely to the pressure of hunger. Among men intellectual and ethical +excellence may be due to compulsion, or it may result from the capacity +to develop lofty ideals. In the former case man is driven; in the latter +case he is led. Now the organisation of human society is such, that if +man will not be led, he is driven. The “mills of the Gods” are ever ready +for those who lag behind in the progress of the race. But there are +mills and mills, and no mill has yet appeared in human history better +calculated to grind out a good grist from an intellectual point of view, +than western Eurasia, or Europe. The emulations and antagonisms of so +many nations have stimulated men to do their best, and have stimulated +governments to aid them in doing it, for several centuries. The result +has been modern art, modern science pure and applied, and modern +philosophy. To produce all this however, Europe has been under pressure, +and the pressure has been in some, if not all of its countries, more or +less galling. + +The European, in order to escape local tyranny, political, social, or +theological, or to better his chances of physical living, has come to +America. He has taken possession, and has bettered his condition from a +physical point of view, most successfully. The question that interests +us now, is whether he has bettered himself in any other way, and whether +he is going to continue the mental progress which has so distinguished +his history in Europe. Population is rapidly increasing, and the +increasing severity of the “struggle for existence” which will follow, +will stimulate men to increased excellence in their methods of obtaining +a livelihood, but will it develop the mind in any other direction? We +have before us in the case of China, the effect of close industrial +competition in a dense population, without corresponding intellectual +development. What is the outlook for the American? Will the process of +natural selection only, the “devil-take-the-hindmost” doctrine of Darwin, +be sufficient to develop the higher mental faculties, or having developed +them, to enable them to survive and to become general, or not? + +In the first place we lack in America the great stimulus to mental +progress already referred to, international jealousy and emulation. In +this respect we are situated very much like the Chinese, but if anything +less favorably. We practically own the continent. We have no fear of +Tartar invasions from the west nor Japanese from the north east. The +Canadians are of identical race with ourselves, and are almost certain +to become identical in nationality with us. We are accustomed to boast +ourselves of this, and to look with great satisfaction on our isolated +position among nations. But our self-gratulation must be greatly tempered +by the reflection that such isolation is only beneficial so long as we +can maintain our ideals without external stimulus. And this is something +that few nations have so far been able to accomplish. It is true, +however, that the Atlantic ocean is not so wide as it was formerly, and +we are truly one of the family of the Indo-European nations. But we will +miss the effect of the daily stimulus which they afford each other, and +the daily contact which transmits so much from man to man. + +What is our present intellectual rank among these nations to-day; meaning +by this our status in actual production of intellectual work, and leaving +aside history? Without any great competence to speak on many branches +of such work, I may be not far from correct; if I summarise as follows: +In music and sculpture unproductive; in painting and literature (as an +art) good, but weak in quantity in comparison with our population. In +sciences, feeble in many branches, but very productive in some others. I +refer to pure science. In applied science we stand high. In philosophy as +a nation, weak. + +But we have the future before us. If there is a demand for the products +of pure thought in this country, the supply will come. Much may be +expected of our race. We will hope that the demand will grow, for at +present it is not as large as it ought to be. It is of course easy for +thought to “run in accustomed channels,” and many people there are in +this as in all other countries, who believe that sufficient is already +known, and that he who would disturb current opinions is a “disturber of +the peace.” Strange as it may seem, in this comparatively new country we +have one special inducement to this habit of mind. This is to be found +in our political system, which requires an unhesitating submission to the +will of the majority. + + * * * * * + +Here is our second danger. We are apt to confuse mental submission with +physical submission. Physical submission to the will of the majority +is generally necessary for physical reasons, with which we are all +familiar. Ballots are simply a peaceful representation of bullets, and +we anticipate the submission to the latter by submission to the former. +But the mind should be free. Current or popular opinions are not always +correct. In fact if they were, reform or progress would be unnecessary. +A proposal for change always begins with a minority, and much time may +often elapse before such change becomes acceptable to the majority. +Before the majority accepts a new step of progress the progressive idea +cannot govern physically. It must be content to be unpopular for a +greater or less time. Now the politician naturally dreads unpopularity, +for it is political death. And just in proportion as we are politicians +do we share in this unfortunate mental attitude. And how many Americans +are not politicians? It is the prevalent ethical disease of Americans. If +it becomes general, the progress of this country is ended, and her fate +among nations is sealed. Her manhood is gone, and woman may well feel her +hand itch to + + “Defeat their dirty tricks + Confound their politics.” + +The prevalence of the habit of submission to what we know to be wrong +in this country is simply detestable. Herbert Spencer has given us +some excellent advice on this subject, and we will do well to heed +it. The habit extends all the way through political, scientific, and +domestic economy. The unpopularity of the reformer is expressed in the +term “kicker,” which is applied to him among the lower classes in this +country. As one of its advocates once said to me, it is the “American +System,” and there was a strong element of truth in his assertion. With +such people, criticism is identical with quarrelling, for they cannot +conceive of any motive for endeavoring to reform some abuse or correct +some error, but personal rancor. Such an attitude is a sure mark of +intellectual mediocrity and ethical incapacity, and it infinitely +increases the pains of the reformer, and readily converts him into a +martyr. However, there are a good many men left in this country, and +there are agencies at work which will probably keep up the supply. + +In the absence of compulsion in the form of external or civil wars and +other disasters, the churches are doing a good work in keeping ideals +before the people, and in inviting corresponding practical life. It is +true that their efforts are more or less retarded by the insistence +on erroneous and even absurd opinions about some things, but they do +infinite service in teaching that “man shall not live by bread alone,” +nor by the mere display of physical possessions. They teach that there +are ideals of truth and beauty better worth living for, and that the +mind is the greater part of man. It is the churches which make the +majority of scientists and philosophers, as they formerly did of +painters. Then let the churches flourish. Like the nations of Europe, +their emulations and antagonisms bring out the truth. The Presbyterians +have to solve the knotty questions of biblical inspiration and divine +order. The Methodists will have to study the nature and value of human +emotions. The Friends will know what is to be known of immediate divine +influence. The Catholics have learned how to restrain in some measure +the most thoughtless of mankind. The Unitarians and Ethical Culturists +are proving that man may retain and live up to high ideals without much +or any theology. So long as there is no philosophy or none to speak of +in America, the evolution of thought will come from the conflicts of +the theologies; a peaceful war which is far less wasteful than physical +wars. Theology has been generally in Europe the parent of philosophy, +and so it will be here. From the various stages and conditions of the +agitation will spring science and art. By this method man is led into +progress by measures which involve the best attributes of his nature, +instead of being driven by appeals to his lower motives, or by physical +force. In this progress moral courage is not lost, but it is developed; +and criticism is truth’s best weapon, and is not a cause of offense. +That this progress in the churches is real, is proven by our Woodrow, +McQueary, Briggs, and others, and it will go on as long as the love of +truth and moral courage exist in those organisations. + +It is interesting to remember that this struggle of opinions has passed +through the same stages in Europe wherever the love of truth has had an +abiding place. This is especially true of Germany, where also philosophy +has had so large a development in relatively modern times. But we need +something more than opinions to counteract the dangers which threaten +earnestness of character in this country, which I have pointed out. +Active organisations are necessary, which shall resist tendencies +to crystallisation from both sides. Non-theological people must be +stimulated to maintain ethical ideals; and theological people must be +restrained from smothering them under useless and obstructive dogmas and +practices. It is too true that while some theological dogmas include +high ethical ideals, other dogmas discredit them by deriving them from +incredible sources, and seeking to sustain them by incredible sanctions. +Where such dogmas are sincerely held, true thought is suppressed, +knowledge makes slow progress, and ethical life is more difficult. + +As already remarked, we cannot yet claim to be, as a nation, +distinguished for profound thinking on the subjects of highest human +interest; nor yet are we the most thoughtless. Ignorance of the +possibilities of mind is not so general as in some parts of Europe, but +it is greater than in others. Material objects and interests occupy +almost as exclusively the minds of the majority of our citizens whom we +are accustomed to consider “intelligent,” as among the unintelligent. +Hence our proneness to boast of our material greatness, instead of our +intellectual conquests. Hence that weakest of all forms of self-praise, +the publication of the dimensions of our country and its rapid growth, +as though these were indications of our superiority as a people or +as a race. This is repeated _ad nauseam_, while our real merits, our +contributions to the stock of the world’s progress in thought, knowledge, +and mental power, are passed by in silence. Our newspaper press reflects +this state of affairs, since they generally think it their best policy to +follow rather than lead public opinion. There are, however, noteworthy +exceptions to this character of the press both in the east and the west, +which we owe to the superiority of the men who edit and direct them. + +In the conduct of our schools and of our scientific organisations, we +have a corresponding exhibition of mediocrity or worse, with a few noble +and distinguished exceptions. A mere interest in education and research +does not confer competency to direct and sustain them; yet an interest +in such matters is generally the only qualification demanded of the +directors of such institutions, provided they understand how to buy, +sell, and invest money. It is to be hoped that this state of affairs will +some day pass away, and that men who are influential in such matters +will some time know enough themselves to distinguish between the false +and the true, and between men of ability and adventurers who are after +the money and position with which our institutions of learning and our +scientific enterprises can endow them. This reform will progress exactly +in proportion as it is understood how much human happiness depends on +true research and on correct thinking, and how little on revelation and +on ancient dogma. + +It is not, I repeat, sufficiently understood, how much human conduct +depends on correct thinking. How much financial dishonesty would be +averted by a rational thought as to the inevitable consequences? How much +social irregularity would be prevented by a similar treatment of the +subject? How much hatred and wasteful antagonism would the world lack, if +the ordinary conditions of living were understood and acted on! So the +cultivation of the rational mind is of incalculable importance, and if +we wish to prosper as a nation we must bend our energies to the pleasant +task this problem presents to us. Neglect of our mental powers means +degeneracy and decay; while their cultivation means power and happiness. +Wealth, except as a means of attaining this end, after physical +necessities are supplied, is simply useless. + + E. D. COPE. + + + + +MENTAL MUMMIES. + + +If we should name the most important factor in the changes which +have gradually widened the contrast between modern science and the +scholasticism of the Middle Ages, we might define it as a “progressive +recognition of hereditary influences.” + +There was a time when each individual of the human race was considered +a separate accident, called into existence by an act of unlimited, +arbitrary power, and apt to be as suddenly changed, even unto a complete +inversion of his former moral being, by a merciful, or revengeful, +caprice of the same power. + +Biology has since taught us to apply the doctrine of evolution to the +problems of our own moral and physical nature, to trace the tendencies of +bygone times to their effects in the present age, to consider individuals +the outcome of a long series of precedent influences, and to recognise +the truth that the length of those influences is proportioned to the +persistence of the result. + +Intelligent statesmen were the first to appreciate the practical value +of those facts. The advisers of Alexander II. did not waste their time +in a hopeless attempt to convert the freedom-worshipping natives of the +Caucasus into devotees of Muscovite despotism, but at once confronted +them with the alternative of exile or death. Our Indian commissioners +early realised the impossibility of turning the descendants of a long +ancestry of deer-hunters into tillers of the soil, and transferred the +survivors of the long race-war to a territory where they could for +better or worse, indulge their incurable penchant. The Groot Fontein +penitentiary of the Transvaal Republic became the grave of so many +Caffirs that the managers at last abandoned the plan of inuring nomads to +the restraints of sedentary occupation, and saved the lives, if not the +souls of their convicts by sending them about in chain-gangs to mend the +irrigation ditches of the border settlements. + +Hereditary influences cannot be obliterated by force of rhetoric or of +government edicts and it would solve many riddles if we would apply that +principle to phenomena of ethical and religious evolution. How else +shall we explain the fact that in less than sixty years the doctrine of +Protestantism spread from central Germany to the highland hamlets of +Scotland and Scandinavia, while in Spain, Portugal, and Italy a very +decided progress in general intelligence has failed to lead to a similar +result? How shall we account for the success of Christian missionaries in +Tasmania and Otaheiti and their utter failure in Burmah and Hindostan? +How for the persecution-proof vitality of Judaism, the ready collapse of +Mormonism, or the revival of crass mystic delusions in the midst of our +realistic civilisation? + +There is no doubt that the average Spanish sailor, or village-shopkeeper +of to-day possesses a larger stock of general information than the +average Brunswick school-teacher of the sixteenth century. Yet one of the +least learned of those school-teachers could, by instinct, sufficiently +appreciate the significance of the Protestant revolt to celebrate its +triumph by a big bonfire and what our western friends would, call a +“grand war-dance,” on a height near the little town of Wolfenbüttel. Why +does Pedro Gonzales still cross himself at the mention of a heretic, +while Peter Jansen would as soon return to the pig-sty hovels of the +mediæval serfs as crawl back under the yoke of Jesuitry? How could the +bogs of foggy Ireland and the vegas of sunny Spain nourish equally +imperishable roots of a plant that failed to get a firm foot-hold in the +sands of Brandenburgh? + +The solution of those enigmas can be found in the circumstance that the +doctrine of anti-naturalism had extended its influence to the character +of many European nations, and that the character-traits of a race are +less amenable to rapid changes than its intellectual standards. On the +soul-organism of the Latin races the thousand years influence of monastic +tyranny has left traces which the light of science will fail to efface +for centuries to come. The propaganda of a manlier creed has thus been +defeated, not only by their ignorance, but by their aversion to mental +efforts, by their habitual reliance on miracles, by their incurable +indifference to the claims of truth and the merits of intellectual +independence, by their hereditary mistrust in the competence of their +natural instinct. To their moral palate a doctrine which nauseates their +northern neighbors has become a pleasant narcotic; they have been forced +to swallow the opium of pessimism till a craving for the repetition of +the mind-enervating dose has become a second nature; they hug the cross +that has proved a symbol of death to their noblest reformers. + +Against that influence of perverted instincts the logic of mental +revelations avails but little. “Propositions which would appear +self-evident to certain mental constitutions,” says Dr. Carpenter, +“are apt to be very differently received by others, according to their +conformity or discordance with that _aggregate of preformed opinion_ +which has grown up in the minds of each. For just as we try whether a +new piece of furniture which is offered us does or does not fit into a +certain recess in our apartment, and accept or decline it accordingly, +so we try a new proposition which is offered to our mental acceptance. +If it either at once fits in or can by argument or discussion be brought +to fit in to some recess in our fabrics of thought, we give our assent +to it by admitting it to its appropriate place. But if it neither fits +in the first instance nor can by any means be brought to fit, the mind +automatically rejects it.” + +It is true that logical demonstrations may become complete enough to defy +dissent, but even from facts which force themselves upon the acceptance +of every rational human being, different individuals will draw widely +different inferences. That the mind of man may become a receptacle for +irreconcilable doctrines is strikingly illustrated, by the simultaneous +acceptance of the Old and New Testament of our heterogeneous scripture, +and in the same way obstinate bigots manage to associate scientific truth +and dogmatic absurdities. Darwin and Moses may occupy adjoining quarters +in the fabric of the same cosmogony; the rule of three may become a +passive concomitant of Trinitarian dogmas. The torch of truth may be +permitted to flicker in a secluded recess of souls which refuse it the +privilege of throwing its rays in certain directions. Education may fail +to reclaim hereditary bigotry. In the winter of 1559 the rabble of Madrid +assembled to witness the death of Don Carlos de Seso, a Spanish nobleman +whose ancestors had fought at Granada and Toledo. His brother had been +the favorite hunting-companion of Charles V.; one of his uncles had +sacrificed his life in deciding the victory of Pavia; Don Carlos himself +had acquired renown both as a soldier and a scholar, but in the latter +capacity he had confessed his sympathy with certain doctrines of Martin +Luther, and the Holy Inquisition had sentenced him to anticipate his doom +in the flames of the stake. King Philip II. honored the _auto da fé_ +with his presence, and frowned in a way which the condemned freethinker +mistook for a disapproval of his sentence. “O King! can you thus witness +the torture of your subjects?” exclaimed De Seso. “Deliver us from so +cruel a death which even our enemies admit we have not deserved.” “I +would help carrying faggots to burn my own son,” replied the King, “if +he had incurred your unspeakable guilt.” Yet Philip the Second was one +of the best-educated princes of his century. In mathematics, astronomy, +ancient and modern languages, geography, and history, he was far better +informed than Landgraf Philip of Hessen, who would have risked his own +life to save that of a loyal cavalier. + +There are mental mummies who cannot be revived by removing their +grave-shrouds and clothing them in modern drapery; the principle of +conservatism has penetrated their very veins and the marrow of their +bones. It is by no means unconceivable that a popular leader like +Garibaldi or Porfirio Diaz should succeed in persuading a million of his +countrymen to renounce the yoke of Rome and build Protestant chapels, but +the result would be largely limited to a change of nomenclature. Before +long the dissenters would march in procession with a wonder-working tooth +of John Wesley or kiss a shred from the petticoat of the Holy Maid of +Kent. They would groan at the mention of Rome, but exorcise spooks with +the initials of Ulric Zwingli, and abstain from work on the anniversary +of every Protestant martyr. They would try to redeem drunkards by +sprinkling them with consecrated water from the holy rivers of Kansas, +and celebrate Arbor Day only by invoking the spirit of Prof. G. P. +Marsh, as a patron-saint of climate-improving forests. Under the stimulus +of industrial influences, they might transfer the cross from way-side +shrines to telegraph-poles, but they would persist in the worship of +sorrow. + +The creed which has turned the happiest countries of our globe into +a grave of their former prosperity, is a medley of miraculism and +anti-naturalism, and the experience of the last century has proved that +both can survive the repudiation of Rome and even of Galilee. The mania +of renunciation, after the abolishment of monasteries and nunneries, +continued its dismal rites in Quaker-garb and Shaker temples of celibacy. +The miracle-hunger of millions who have learned to scorn the clumsy +tricks of the cowled exorcist, gratifies its appetite in the mystic gloom +of the dark cabinet. Rustic supernaturalists, deprived of such luxuries, +indemnify themselves by retailing the marvels of the serpent-charm and +joint-snake superstition. + +A curious psychological problem suggests itself in the question how +far the charm of the “sour-grape philosophy” may contribute to the +persistence of certain forms of moral nihilism. Condemned criminals +almost invariably “renounce the vanities” of a life which the Court +of Appeals has refused to save, and in a scaffold-speech, quoted in +Galignani’s _Messenger_ of May 6th, 1837, the English murderer Joseph +Greenacre expressed his conviction that his crime had been the means +of saving his soul, because “death on the gibbet was one of the surest +passports to heaven.” + +For similar reasons degenerate nations, after realising the doom of their +national welfare, are apt to renounce the glory of a forfeited world, +and to consider misery, poverty, and shame so many stepping-stones to +the bliss of a better life beyond the grave. After habitual sins against +the health-laws of nature have avenged themselves in cureless diseases, +decrepit bigots may find solace even in that most insane tenet of their +dualistic creed which teaches them to despise the body as the enemy of +the soul. + +A natural effect of pessimism may thus, in course of time, become one of +its perpetuating causes. + + FELIX L. OSWALD. + + + + +THE NERVOUS GANGLIA OF INSECTS. + + +I. + +Although the internal structure of the brain of insects has been the +object of numerous and important investigations, among which we must +place those of Dietl, Flögel, Bellonci, and Viallanes (who have applied +the method of sections to the study of this organ), no attention has as +yet been paid to the other nerve-centres of insects, and in particular +to the ganglia of the ventral chain. Writers have contented themselves +with describing the external form of these ganglia, and their anatomical +relations to the other organic parts; but nothing has been done to throw +light upon their inward structure. All the knowledge which we have on +this subject is very meagre and dates far back to the works of the old +writers, who, like Newport, had at their disposal no other means of study +than the microscopic examination of organs viewed either transparently +or in dilacerated preparations. A method so defective could render but +incomplete results, and indeed in many cases erroneous ones. + +We have sought to supply this much to be regretted lack of entomological +knowledge, by applying to the ventral ganglia of insects the admirable +method of sectional cutting, which has brought about such marked advances +in contemporaneous zoölogy. + +I need hardly insist on the interest of this research. We shall only +remark that all anatomical study bears an unfinished aspect, up to the +moment at which we grasp the meaning of the organs which we describe; +physiology is a necessary complement of anatomy, it is that which gives +to it a meaning. Therefore, when we dissect an organ, which, as in the +case of an insect’s brain, is endowed with the most complex psychical +properties of which these animals are capable, we find ourselves in the +presence of parts whose functions almost entirely escape us. What is, +for example, that peculiar organ to which we have given the name of the +“pedunculate” body? Anatomists have described with the greatest care its +connections and portrayed its external contour; but we cannot discover, +or even conjecture its uses. It would be necessary to understand the +habits of thought and the feelings of an insect, to be able to assign a +rôle to parts so complex and so delicate as those contained within its +brain. + +The study of the ventral ganglia seems to us to be capable of +conducting us to a better result, for in everything that concerns these +nerve-masses, physiology is more advanced, and, in all cases, clearer. +The ganglia of the thorax, for example, are in the main motory centres; +the principal nerves that are sent out from them are to be found in the +wings and in the feet; the study of the terrestrial, aquatic, and aerial +locomotion of insects has already formed the subject of quite a number +of important scientific works; we are now upon well-known ground, and we +may hope that it will be possible to establish some connection between +the anatomical structure of ventral ganglia and the functions which these +ganglia control. + +This hope appears to us to be the more legitimate, because we can make +use of all the resources of comparative anatomy to work out the problem. +If we consider any particular function, for example, that of flying, +we notice that in species which resemble each other this function is +exercised under totally different conditions; the same organ acquires +different uses, and these variations become singularly instructive +when we can trace their relationship to the particular structure of a +nerve-ganglion. Thus, one of the large wings of the dragon-fly, which +is almost like a bird in the range and power of its flight, becomes +the elytrum of the beetle; the elytrum is a stiff wing covered by +chitinised matter and serving as a protection to a part of the thorax +and abdomen. Sometimes the elytrum is used in flying, as in the case +of the cockchafer. In other lamellicorn insects, in the _Cetonia_ for +instance, the elytrum is not used in flight; it merely moves aside so +as to allow the second pair of wings to unfold. Its rôle becomes still +less active in the golden carabus, in _Procrustes_, in _Blaps_, and many +other _Coleoptera_, whose two elytra are found on one vertical line, +and form but one single and immovable portion; then the second pair of +wings disappear; from the physiological point of view, the animal becomes +apterous. In another and different order, the order _Diptera_, it is the +second pair of wings that undergo an important modification; they cease +to be used in flying, and are transformed into an organ of equipoise: +they are used for maintaining equilibrium. + +All these physiological variations, taking place in the self-same organ, +must in all probability have their counterpart in the internal anatomy of +the ganglion that governs the organ, and the comparative study of this +ganglion in different species will enable us perhaps to discover the +functions of some of its parts. Thus, if we consider by hypothesis, as +the nerve-centre of flight, some small lobe which is found occupying this +or that place in a thoracic ganglion, the disappearance or modification +of this lobe in species not possessing the faculty of flying, might serve +to throw additional light upon such an interpretation. + +What we have just said with regard to flight is equally applicable to +terrestrial locomotion, which also represents in itself many varieties. +The typal insect possesses three pairs of feet, whence the name of +hexapods, but there are particular species which drop a pair of feet, +for instance, the _Lepidoptera_ of the genus _Vanessa_; in others, +the physiological function of the foot varies; in the case of the +carrion-beetle (a necrophagus coleopter) it serves as an instrument of +tillage, to dig with; for the cricket, the third pair of feet are used +for the purpose of leaping; for the _Dytiscus_, it serves as an oar, and +so on. We must also bear in mind the curious fact that there exists in +the larvæ of certain insects what are called supplementary feet, having +only a transient existence and disappearing at maturity; the caterpillar, +the larva of the butterfly, has five pairs of supplementary feet. These +notable facts demonstrated by comparative anatomy, cannot fail to furnish +us with valuable information concerning the functions of the complex +organs found in the ganglia of the thorax. + +But this is not all. We have not enumerated all the contributions of +comparative anatomy to the problem which we are now about to consider; we +may make use of the method of comparison without bringing the different +types into juxtaposition, but by viewing the nervous system of only +a single animal in its entirety. We know in fact that the body of an +insect is formed by a definite number of segments, all constructed on +the same fundamental plan and arranged in a linear series. Each one of +these segments is joined to a nerve-ganglion, which is all its own and +supplies it with sensibility and motility, the two elementary properties +of nervous activity. In the course of development, these ganglia have the +power of changing their positions; and it is not uncommon to find that +the greater number of the abdominal ganglia move up into the thorax; each +one, nevertheless, retaining its nerve-relationship to its own segment. +Now all the segments of an insect’s body are not called upon to play the +same rôle; a division of labor has been effected among them with regard +to the functions which they are found to exercise: as we have already +seen, the ganglia of the thorax are essentially centres of locomotion; +in the head, one of the ganglia, the sub-œsophageal, furnishes the +nerves of the buccal portions; the other one, the brain, is connected +with particular nerves and becomes the centre of the highest form of +psychical activity of which the creature is capable. We have here a +number of modifications superadded to the original plan. Yet the original +plan should again be met with in the ganglia that have been least +differentiated, such as those in the abdominal region; and the comparison +between an abdominal and a thoracic ganglion, for instance, is well +calculated to show what are the primal and fundamental structures, and +what are the secondary ones which have been superadded and have become +necessary for the execution of the more complex functions. The study +of embryonic and larval forms so easily observed in insects, will most +probably conduct us to the same result. And thus perhaps by continuous +efforts, all guided by the same governing idea, we shall ultimately +arrive at the analogies that exist between the cerebroid ganglia and the +humblest ganglia belonging to the ventral chain, and thus finally be +able to understand the action of the nerve-substance. + +The importance of this object, which, be it clearly understood, can +never be attained except by the united effort of many workers, is well +calculated to command our strenuous exertions and to encourage us in +surmounting the difficulties of a study which is as yet almost entirely +new. + + +II. + +We shall restrict ourselves in this article to the consideration of one +particular case; we shall describe a single ganglion of the insect. The +type we have chosen, for reasons too lengthy to enumerate, is a Coleopter +of the family of _Melolonthidæ_; the _Rhizotrogus solstitialis_, a small +beetle very commonly found in the southwest of France. We will now +proceed to the consideration of the first thoracic ganglion. + +The prothoracic ganglion in the rhizotrogus is joined by very short +connective filaments to the second thoracic ganglion, and also to the +sub-œsophageal ganglion; this latter ganglion, we must note _en passant_, +being situated in the thorax. If with a pair of scissors we sever the +head of the rhizotrogus, we find that the remainder of the body contains +not only the thoracic ganglia, but also the sub-œsophageal; a peculiarity +which, from a physiological point of view, is very interesting. + +The ganglion of the pro-thorax, which is greater in width than it is in +length, bears a vague resemblance to a cone the base of which is turned +towards the sub-œsophageal ganglion, whilst the apex points towards the +second ganglion of the thorax. From the lower part spring two large +nerves, their starting-point being nearer the ventral than the dorsal +surface, a fact clearly comprehended when we find that the fibres of +these nerves extend for the most part into the first pair of feet, that +is to say, into those organs that lie underneath the horizontal plane +of the ganglion. The connective filaments which penetrate the ganglion +anteriorly enter it nearer the dorsal surface than the ventral, this last +being extremely convex. Dissection throws no additional light upon the +anatomy of the ganglion. But by means of a series of sections, we find +that it is composed of a mass of fibrillar substance which occupies its +centre portion and of a layer of nerve-cells surrounding the fibrillar +substance. This fibrillar mass is, owing to its great volume, far the +most important, and constitutes in itself alone about four-fifths of the +organ. The fibrillary structure can only be satisfactorily analysed by +using on it osmic acid, or other equivalent reagents which dissociate +it and admit of its being reduced to a certain number of clearly +differentiated elements. Whenever osmic acid or a similar reagent has not +been employed, or has not sufficiently penetrated the ganglion, owing +to the obstacle presented by a thick conjunctival covering or envelope, +the fibrillar substance takes on a homogeneous aspect that effectually +renders all analysis of it impossible. Everything depends on the +employment of a good method of preparation. + +When the ganglion has been properly prepared, we perceive a very material +difference in the appearance of the fibrillar substance when we compare +the dorsal with the ventral region of the ganglion. We can do this +very satisfactorily by a longitudinal section, extending through both +regions. In such a section close to the median line but not confounded +with it (see Cut 16)[9] we perceive that the ventral region is occupied +by a cord or string of substance which owing to the action of the osmic +acid has become very black, and which is formed of so dense a tissue, +that we can with difficulty separate it into fibres and fibrillæ. This +cord, which, by reason of its position and shape, I propose naming the +_ventral column_, extends over the ventral surface of the ganglion in a +longitudinal direction; at both its anterior and posterior extremities it +is carried on by fibres extending into the ventral columns of the other +ganglia, in such a manner that the entire series of ganglia are united by +one continuous ventral cord. + +If we look at a transverse section (see Cut 26), the cord, which is +recognised by its dark color and by its position near the ventral surface +of the fibrillar substance, will be seen to have the form of two almost +perfect circles. The ventral column thus presents a circular section, is +duplex and symmetrical: there exist two separate and distinct ventral +columns, separate at least for a certain length; a fact which must be +considered in connection with the primitive duality of the ganglion. + +In every section where the columns remain distinct from each other, they +are separated either by fibres and conjunctival cells, or by nerve-fibres +emanating from the cells of the ventral region and proceeding in an +upward direction between the two columns. At the other points, the two +columns join on the median line. This union is effected in different +ways, either by the two columns coming directly together, thus merging +into a single mass, or by a commissure which describes the arc of a +circle underneath the two columns, or else by the inferior ventral lobule. + +We give the name of inferior ventral lobule to a small lobule of +fibrillar substance, situated beneath the ventral column. When looked +at in a horizontal section not passing through the median line (see Cut +17), this lobule presents the appearance of a rounded protuberance, +breaking the almost rectilinear contour of the ventral column. As this +characteristic peculiarity is repeated in the internal structure of +all the ganglia, we may use it to ascertain the number of the ganglia, +whenever these present the appearance of being fused into one compact +mass; we may see the practical application of this remark by observing +the sub-œsophageal ganglion. + +In a succession of horizontal sections, the starting point of which is +the ventral region, the first mass of fibrillar substance met with by the +knife is the inferior ventral lobule, which is formed (see Cut 1) by two +rounded fasciculi, placed symmetrically on either side of the median line +and joined together by a transverse commissure. + +In these sections, we also perceive fibres of the crural nerve, which, +after having extended over a certain length of the ganglion, penetrate +into the substance of the inferior ventral lobule (Cut 2). In transverse +sections (Cut 23) we find the two ventral lobules placed beneath the two +columns which they help to support, and into which they gradually merge; +and we also perceive the transverse commissure which joins the two. +We shall call this the _transverse commissure of the inferior ventral +lobule_. + +Let us now pass on to the examination of the upper surface of the +ventral column. This surface is covered by a cluster of very fine fibrils +rather sparsely disposed; we can clearly follow their course by means +of a longitudinal section (Cut 17); we see them again in a horizontal +section (Cut 5). To continue the general description of the ganglion we +must now consider the dorsal region. It is, as we have previously stated, +occupied by a fibrillar substance not so dense as that which composes the +ventral column, and we will give the general name of dorsal lobe to this +region, reserving the name ventral lobe for the region which embraces the +ventral column and its adjoining parts. The dorsal lobe presents as its +distinctive characteristic the feature that it is crossed longitudinally +by a succession of connective filaments clearly seen in the longitudinal +section of Cut 16. + +We have already stated that the ventral column receives fibres issuing +from the ganglion in front and sends out others to the ganglia in the +rear. We shall call the totality of these fibres _the connective ventral +filaments_, and shall call the totality of those that traverse the dorsal +lobe _the dorsal connective filaments_. + +The connective filaments which join the sub-œsophageal to the first +thoracic ganglion, and which, between these two ganglia, are composed of +a dense fasciculus of fibres, distribute these fibres, at the point at +which they enter the prothoracic ganglia, in different directions; one +set of fibres proceeds towards the ventral column, these are the ventral +connective filaments; a second set traverses the dorsal lobe, and are the +dorsal connective filaments. + +Whilst the ventral connective filaments soon merge into the very dense +substance of the ventral column, the dorsal connective filaments, on +the contrary, remain distinct from the organs which they traverse, and +preserve their individuality throughout. They take directions in three +different planes (see Cut 16), consequently they can be subdivided into +superior, medial, and inferior dorsal connective filaments. + +Newport seems to have observed this distinction of fibres; and he has +given the name of sensory column to this first division, and that of +motor column to the second. Unfortunately the drawings and figures he has +published, though schematically correct, are not clear. We do not adopt +his terminology, in the first place because he designates the organs +after their supposed functions, and we have made it a rule never to use +controvertible physiological suppositions to designate anatomical organs; +and besides, though the name of column is applicable to the connective +ventral filaments, we cannot apply it to the connective dorsal filaments, +which are subdivided into three pairs of fibrous fasciculi and do not in +the least resemble a column. + +In the study of _Melolontha vulgaris_, we have been able to establish in +the most absolute manner that there exists a considerable histological +difference between the connective filaments of the ventral region and +those of the dorsal. Though we have not yet noticed this difference in +_Rhizotrogus_ in any marked degree, nevertheless it has seemed to us +needful to point it out here, because the fact is of such vast importance +that it cannot fail to be general. The dorsal connective filaments, +whilst they preserve their individuality in their passage across the +dorsal lobe of the ganglion, penetrate nevertheless into some small +masses of dotted substance which are found in the path of their entrance +into the ganglion. The mass annexed to the inferior dorsal connective +filament, is above all very important and is directly connected with +the ventral column. As the connective filaments are in pairs, each of +these possesses a distinct mass of fibrillar substance and both the +masses attached to the same pair of connective filaments are joined by a +commissure. + +Let us now say a few words about the nerves which proceed toward the +prothoracic ganglion. There exists here but one single pair of nerves, +extremely important and very extensive. This is the crural nerve. To +this nerve are attached the organs which are superadded to the primary +structure of the ganglion, such as we have described it, and which in +consequence renders the primitive structure more complex. We shall +perceive the importance attached to the idea of a _superadded_ organ, +when we study the abdominal ganglia, where the organs we are about to +describe are either completely wanting or are but imperfectly developed. + +If now we examine a transversal section taken a little in front of the +place from whence the crural nerves emerge (Cut 19), we shall notice +that the central part of the ganglion is occupied by the ventral column +and the upper part by the dorsal lobe. In addition to this, in the +lateral regions of the ganglion we find two important masses of fibrillar +substance. At this point these two masses remain distinct from the parts +we have just mentioned, and on the other hand they are in connection with +the crural nerves. The latter send a part, and unquestionably the greater +part, of their fibres into the lateral lobes. In a section slightly +posterior to the preceding one, also transversal, a very important change +has taken place; the two lateral lobules, always connected with the +crural nerves, have also established connections with the centre of the +ganglion, and in the sections further on the fusion is complete. As these +lateral lobules possess the characteristics mentioned, only at the point +at which the crural nerves emerge, we shall call them the _crural lobes_. +Thus we find in the prothoracic ganglion three principal lobes: (1) the +crural lobe, which is double, symmetrical, and lateral, (2) the dorsal +lobe, (3) the ventral lobe. These two last, in contradistinction to the +crural lobe, will be classed together under the common term _central +lobe_. + +And now to finish this summary description of the prothoracic ganglion, +we will point out an important disposition of the connective tissue which +divides the ganglion into two halves, one anterior, the other posterior. +We can easily understand this disposition by looking at a longitudinal +section passing exactly through the median line. From the dorsal surface +of the ganglion, may be seen descending a bundle of cells and connective +fibres, which, in the form of a column, are directed toward the centre +of the ganglion; these cells and fibres do not meet any important organ +on their way, the dorsal connective filaments always taking a lateral +course. A fasciculus, similarly composed of cells and conjunctival +fibres, starting from the ventral surface of the ganglion, appears +to meet this conjunctival column (Cut 18). This curious disposition +appears to be, as M. Henneguy has ingeniously suggested to me, a trace +of the anterior development of the ganglion which had been formed of two +distinct portions that have been naturally _welded_ together along the +median line; the connective fasciculi corresponding to the point where +the welding has been incomplete, and representing the survival of a +portion of the walls of the two ganglia. + + +III. + +As the ganglion which we have just described contains some structural +difficulties not easy of comprehension, let us proceed with our +description under another form, following the order of our illustrations. + +Figure 1 is the first horizontal section, cut through the ventral region +of the ganglion; the knife has here met the lower ventral lobule, which +at this point shows itself double; the two halves being joined by a +double transversal commissure. Section 2, made at a point a little higher +than the preceding one, shows us at the centre the lower ventral lobule +as increased in size; and in the lateral part of the figure appears a new +organ, the crural lobule, which is here entirely merged into the lower +ventral lobule. The crural lobule is traversed by fibres from the crural +nerve, which instead of being entirely lost in its substance, proceed +still further, passing into the lower ventral lobule. Section 3 merely +brings into prominence an important transversal commissure. In Section +4, the inferior ventral lobule is replaced by the ventral column, which +appears double, is symmetrical, and united by a transversal commissure; +this commissure being formed of fibrillar substance. The ventral column +is closely connected on each side with the crural lobule; it is besides +crossed by the ventral connective fibres, which can be seen emerging +from its anterior and posterior extremities. Section 5 allows us to +examine thoroughly the disposition of those ventral connective fibres; we +see that while they penetrate the ganglion, they also pass through two +symmetrical masses of fibrillar substance; these two masses, which we +name the anterior ventral lobules, are joined together by a transversal +commissure. After having traversed the anterior ventral lobules, to which +it appears they give a portion of their fibres, the ventral connective +filaments pass through the ganglion in an antero-posterior direction, and +we see them penetrating the two posterior ventral lobules. The last named +lobules, which remind us by their position and appearance of the anterior +lobules, receive in addition fibres issuing from the crural lobules; but +they do not receive them all, because we notice quite a number of these +fibres advancing directly into the second thoracic ganglion. After +emerging from the posterior ventral lobules, the ventral connective +filaments pass into the second thoracic ganglion, where we see them +penetrate into the anterior ventral lobules. + +With Figure 6, we leave the ventral lobe of the ganglion and come +to the lower portions of the dorsal lobule. The important filaments +crossing this section from the front to the back are called lower dorsal +connective filaments. We notice as they proceed some small masses of +dotted substance, and, in addition to these, dark colored dots which are +the result of the knife having cut crosswise through several fascicles of +ascending fibres. We shall find out by means of the sections taken from +different parts and placed so as to allow of our better observation, what +these ascending fibres are. The crural lobule, always exhibits the same +characteristics. We have given it a homogeneous aspect in our drawing. As +a fact it presents in its sections a vast number of structural details. +But these details being very difficult to understand, we prefer not to +dwell upon them. + +Section 7 passes through the very midst of the lower dorsal connective +filaments; these filaments being in two pairs, one external and the +other internal. The external pair, situated somewhat lower, has here +disappeared, and the inner pair is the only one to be seen. Some +transversal fibres, whose direction appears to me difficult to follow, +divide the inside dorsal connective filaments at two different points, +and assume the figure of a square; this square has two black dots, +produced by the section of the ascending fibres. + +A little higher, in Figure 8, the lower connective filaments have +disappeared and the fibrillar substance of the ganglion is furrowed by +long transversal fibres, of which a part seems to serve the function +of joining the two crural lobules, whilst the remainder, proceeding +towards the black dots before mentioned, continue their progress with +the fasciculi of ascending fibres. These are no other than ascending +fibres which, having changed their direction at the plane of the section, +proceed almost in a horizontal plane. In Section 9 we follow the course +of the medial dorsal connective filaments, separated from the lower +connective filaments by the fibres having a transverse direction, seen +in Figure 8. The medial dorsal connective filaments are four in number, +an outer pair and an inner pair. At the moment when they leave the +prothoracic ganglion, they cross a region where the fibrillar substance +is both thicker and darker. In Figure 10 the medial connective filaments +are on the point of disappearing; they receive certain fibres coming from +the crural lobules, which are now reduced in dimensions. Section 11 shows +us the lower dorsal connective filaments, which are the slenderest of all +and of which there are but one pair; the crural lobule now disappears. In +the middle of the figure, we observe a small collection of conjunctival +cells which, as we have supposed, indicates the point where in the course +of development the two symmetrical portions of the ganglion have not been +perfectly fused together. Finally Section 12 shows two lateral masses of +fibrillar substance, separated by a strip of conjunctival membrane. + +We will now take up the series of longitudinal sections, the study of +which will demand very special attention. We shall there meet again with +the organs which we have already examined in the horizontal sections; +and we shall perceive that the alterations and modifications presented +to us by the difference in our point of observation, bring out very +important changes in the appearance of those organs. The sectional method +of examination is also one of analysis. In order to reconstruct an organ +in its complete form and to conceive of it in space, our mind must bring +into a single focus what the sections have represented in a fragmentary +manner: we must, in short, substitute synthesis for analysis. + +Figure 13 represents the first and exterior longitudinal section; it +hardly touches the ganglion; in the front we see the starting point of +the crural nerve, and also a portion of the periphery of the crural +lobule. The crural nerve exhibits several roots, the most important of +which occupy the ventral region. Figure 14, though very elementary, +brings out many important points; we see here the crural lobule, which +has increased in size and extends from the ventral to the dorsal region; +a fact which has already been indicated in the horizontal sections, the +crural lobule having been shown in them at all points. This lobule is +almost circular in form. Along its ventral region, we perceive some of +the fibres of the crural nerve which do not penetrate into the lobule; +these are the ones we met with in the figures 2 and 3: they are the +fibres which pass directly into the lower ventral lobule. With Section +15, we leave the lateral regions of the ganglion and come to the dorsal +and ventral regions; we must notice that the crural lobule is continuous +with the central fibrillar mass and has no precise limits. In Section +15 the ventral column appears, reduced in size. In the front of it +we observe an incisure through which certain nerve-cells send their +prolongations into the fibrillar substance. + +Figure 16 shows us the complete junction of all the connective filaments +traversing the ganglion; first the ventral column, with the connective +ventral filaments starting from both its extremities; and then the three +dorsal connective filaments, which preserve their individuality distinct, +while they cross the dorsal lobe of the ganglion. The lower dorsal +connective filament is distinguished from the others by a small compact +mass of fibrillar substance through which it passes. We must note that +the fibrillar substance becomes thicker at the point where the whole +series of connective filaments enter the ganglion, and the same thing +is repeated at the place where they leave the first thoracic ganglion +to enter into the second. The ventral column is distinguished from the +other parts of the ganglion by the dark color which it assumes through +the action of the osmic acid; it presents black granules which, examined +with a strong lens, show small fasciculi of fibres running in a parallel +direction. The cells which line the lower surface of the ventral column +do not throw out any prolongations; they are exceedingly small, but do +not otherwise present any special feature. + +Figure 17 is but very slightly different from the preceding one: the +ventral column is simply strengthened on its lower surface by the lower +ventral lobule. The position of this lobule is interesting to note. We +have already mentioned that each ganglion is divided into two halves by +a column of conjunctival tissue, one anterior and the other posterior. +In Section 17 we see the granulated projection of the ventral portion +of this conjunctival column. In order to simplify it we have shown no +conjunctival tissue in our illustration. We may nevertheless notice, +that the nerve-cells at the point marked _c. c._ seem to separate one +from the other, and show a triangular space between them, filled with +conjunctival cells. If the segment had not been cut so obliquely, (and +this obliqueness in the sections is almost unavoidable when dealing with +such very small organs,) we should also perceive on the dorsal line +of the section the projection of the dorsal part of the conjunctival +column; in fact we shall see this projection in the figure which follows. +The presence of the conjunctival column separates, as we have said, +each ganglion into two parts, one anterior the other posterior. These +portions are not at all symmetrical. We see in Section 17 that the lower +ventral lobule is found only in the anterior part. Finally from the +ventral column rises an important fasciculus of ascending fibres, which +we have already seen in the horizontal diagrams; it is difficult for +us to ascertain what these fibres are. In the 18th and last section we +approach nearer the median line. The ventral column at this level has +the appearance of being divided into two trunks. The ventral connective +filaments are clearly seen upon its upper surface. Among the dorsal +connective filaments the middle one alone remains visible and receives a +certain number of fibres from the ascending fasciculus. + +To complete our description let us glance at the series of transverse +sections. In Figure 19 the two crural lobules have not yet united and +are not yet merged into the dorsal-ventral lobe. This junction does not +take place until we come to Figure 20. Here, at this level, we see in +addition the circular segment of the two ventral columns, which by their +dark color are sharply outlined against the remainder of the fibrillar +substance. To the right and left of these two columns we perceive small +masses of dotted substance; we merely call attention to them and shall +not describe them. Figure 21 furnishes no noteworthy modifications of +the preceding. We simply see a few cells of the periphery sending out +their prolongations into the fibrillar substance. The point at which they +thus penetrate it has already been indicated in Figure 15. In Figure 22 +we have a section of several dorsal connective filaments; among others +a lower root of the crural nerve is here seen to pass along the ventral +surface of the fibrillar substance without penetrating into the crural +lobule. Does there exist an upper root of the same nerve, which follows +the upper surface of the dotted substance? We do not dare to decide the +question. One thing is certain, and that is that if the nerve does exist +it is accompanied along its path by a great number of widely ramified +tracheæ, of which we see a drawing in _tr._ In the three figures which +follow (23, 24, 25) the ventral column presents an interesting series of +modifications. First of all, in Figure 23, it is surrounded by the lower +ventral lobule, of which the two masses are in a lateral position, and +whose commissures pass underneath the column. We see in the same Figure +23 the two lower roots of the crural nerve, advancing towards the column. +In the 24th section the two roots have reached the column, and two other +nerves cross the crural lobule; doubtless their destination is the lower +dorsal connective filaments, but of this we have no clear indication. +In the 24th section two other crural roots also enter the lower ventral +lobule. This section is very favorable for the examination of the +ascending fasciculus which we have already noticed in the longitudinal +sections. It seems to us certain that this fasciculus terminates in the +middle dorsal connective filament. Its origin is more uncertain. It seems +to spring from the ventral column, or else to come from crural roots +which, after having traversed the crural lobule, reascend towards the +dorsal lobe of the ganglion, describing a curve exteriorily concave. It +is possible that this ascending fasciculus has both these origins. The +26th and last section shows us the ventral column on a larger scale; +the two columns being distinct from each other, though united at the +lower extremity by a commissure. The _ensemble_ of the figure strikingly +reminds one of a section of the abdominal ganglion. + +Here our description ends. We have not sought to follow up every fibre in +all its details, nor to describe completely the anatomy of each organ. +Our intention has merely been to give a synthetic notion of a nervous +ganglion. Subsequent studies made on other ganglia will demonstrate the +general application of this idea. + + ALFRED BINET. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[9] For the cuts, see the plates in the Appendix of this number. + + + + +HINDU MONISM. + +WHO WERE ITS AUTHORS, PRIESTS OR WARRIORS? + + +Among all the forms of government class government is the worst. Carthage +was governed by merchants, and the mercantile spirit of its policy led +finally to the destruction of the city. Sparta was governed by warriors, +and in spite of the glory of Thermopylæ it was doomed to stagnation. +India was governed by priests, and the weal of the nation was sacrificed +with reckless indifference to their interests. It appears that for the +welfare of the community the harmonious co-operation of all classes is +not only desirable but also indispensable. + +Yet it is often claimed that mankind is greatly indebted to nations or +states ruled by class government, for having worked out the particular +occupation of the ruling class to a perfection which otherwise it would +not have reached. This is at least doubtful. + +Carthage was eager to establish monopolies, but she contributed little to +the higher development of commerce and trade among mankind. + +Sparta raised brave men, but was not progressive, even in the science +of war, and was worsted by so weak an adversary as Thebes. Modern +strategists could learn something from Epaminondas, but little, if +anything, from the Lacedæmonians. + +Priestcraft has attained to a power in India unparalleled in the history +of other nations, and it is no exaggeration to say that priest-rule +was the ruin of the country. Yet the wisdom of the Brahmans has become +proverbial. Their philosophy is praised as original and profound, and it +is well known that the first monistic world-conception was thought out +in ancient India. But we shall see later on what the real share of the +Brahmans in this great work has been. + +In the very earliest ages of Hindu antiquity, revealed to us in the songs +of the Rig-veda, we meet with priests who claimed the power of making +sacrifices to the gods in a manner especially acceptable to them, and +who thus rose to great power, influence, and wealth. To this ancient +period of Hindu history we can trace the origin of the Hindu castes, +essentially a result of priestly egotism, and which up to this day has +weighed down the Indian people like a nightmare. The organisation of +the priestly class into an exclusive, privileged body, as well as the +final development of the castes, did not, however, take place until the +time represented by the second period of the ancient Hindu literature; +by the literature, that is to say, of the Yajur-vedas or the Vedas of +the sacrificial formulæ, and the Brâhmanas and Sûtras, both of which +describe the sacrificial ceremonies, the former with, the latter without +theological comments. The contents of these works illustrate the origin +of the Hindu hierarchy and castes; but it is often necessary to read +between the lines. The greatest authority on this rich literature, Prof. +A. Weber, of Berlin, in the tenth volume of the series “Hindu Studies” +which he edits, has published his inquiries concerning this subject in a +very learned treatise, entitled “Collectanea über die Kastenverhältnisse +in der Brâhmana und Sûtra,” of which I have made considerable use in the +following pages. + +In these books the Brahmans assert their claims with startling candor. In +several passages—to begin with the most striking feature—they announce +themselves as real gods wandering on earth. “There are two kinds of +gods,” it is said, “the true gods and the learned Brahmans, who recite +the Veda.” “The Brahman represents all gods.” “He is the god of gods.” +This is perhaps the most remarkable instance of priestly arrogance in all +history. Thus it cannot at all surprise us that the Brahmans, as earthly +gods, placed themselves above king and nobility; but it appears rather +strange that the kings and warriors should have allowed to them the first +place in the government. But as a matter of fact, they did do so and were +compelled to do so. From mysterious legends in the great Hindu epic poem +we infer, that bloody wars have been waged for supremacy, in which the +nobility was defeated. + +The legends of this epos are thus important additions to the sources +with which we are concerned. This struggle, which the Brahmans in all +likelihood caused to be fought out for them by the great masses of the +people, has been ascribed to the warriors having robbed the priests +of the treasures which the latter had acquired by the performance of +the sacrifices; and this part of the legend is so highly probable +that we cannot treat it as a pure myth, especially if we take into +consideration the circumstances of those times. It was the first attempt +at secularisation in the history of the world, and the results were very +disastrous to those who were then in secular power. + +The Brahmans did not establish a social hierarchy or ecclesiastical +ranks, nor did they participate in the government, except that the king +was bound to employ a Brahman as Purohita or house-priest, who occupied +as such the position of prime minister. If, however, they succeeded in +dominating the nobility and the whole people, it was principally on +account of their greater knowledge, of which they boasted, and especially +on account of the sacrificial arts, by the proper exercise of which in +those times, all favors could be obtained from the gods. For a duly +performed sacrifice, which would last weeks, months, nay, years, the +Brahmans charged of course a high fee. A fee of ten thousand oxen was +prescribed for a certain ceremony, a hundred thousand for another one, +and a later teacher of ritualism charged 240,000 for the same service. +And this was not yet the climax of priestly avarice, which—to use an +expression of Professor Weber—indulges in veritable orgies in these +books. After one has gone through the endless description of a ceremony, +one finds at the end the remark that the whole sacrifice has no effect, +unless the proper fee be paid to the priest. And—to use a term of modern +life—lest competition should reduce the prices or spoil the business, a +rule was established, that no one should take a fee which another one had +refused. (Weber, p. 54.) + +The sacrificial rituals, so trying and tedious for us, are the only +literary production of these dull centuries before the rising of +philosophical speculation, and the great historical importance they +possess is simply due to the light they throw on the moral depravity of +the Brahmans as a class. + +The following fact will fully show to what extent sexual debaucheries +were indulged in. The priest was enjoined, by a special rule, not to +commit adultery with the wife of another during a particularly holy +ceremony. But he who could not practice continence, was allowed to +expiate his sin by an offering of milk to Varuna and Mitra. + +Numerous passages in the books on ritualism furnish us interesting +illustrations of the great indulgence which the Brahmans had for each +other’s weaknesses. The officiating priest is taught how to proceed +during the sacrifice, if he wants to wrong the man who employs and pays +him, or how to deviate from the prescribed rules, if he wants to rob +his employer of his seeing, hearing, children, property, or position. +The lack of confidence that resulted is best illustrated by a ceremony, +the introduction of which, at the beginning of the sacrifice, became +gradually necessary. By a solemn oath the officiating minister and the +client bound themselves not to injure each other during the performance +of the holy act. Consequently, the strange notions of right, which the +Brahmans had in those times, will not surprise us. “Murder of any one +but a Brahman is no murder.” “An arbitrator must decide in favor of +the Brahman and not in favor of his opponent, if the latter is not a +Brahman.” Such maxims are laid down in the texts with shameless insolence. + +It is plain that the caste system greatly contributed to increase the +power and influence of the priests, because in a country where the people +are divided into classes, the priest always succeeds in inciting at his +wish the one against the other. + +After the Brahmans came as second caste the Kshattriyas (literally: the +ruling class, i. e., king, nobility, soldiers); and as third caste the +Vaisyas (the bulk of the people: farmers, merchants, etc.). The conquered +non-Aryan aborigines were foreordained by the gods to serve the Aryan +castes and especially the Brahmans. They were called Súdras (serfs) and +had neither civil nor religious rights. “The Súdra is the servant of +others; he can be cast out or killed.” By this humane maxim were the +Brahmans guided in their conduct towards the aborigines. + +With such a state of things, as it appears in the old books, the +priesthood ought to have been well pleased. But the Brahmans were not; +they desired still greater advantages and carried out the caste system +to a most absurd extent. The result is embodied in the famous law-book +of Manu, the exact date of which we do not yet know, but which must be +placed at the beginning of our era. The condition of things of which I +shall now speak, was accordingly developed during the last centuries +before Christ. Though we may suppose that some rules of this code have +remained a mere theory and have never been carried out, there remains +enough to show the social life of those times in a poor light. Köppen, +in the first chapters of his book on Buddhism, has severely but justly +judged the social organisation, as it appears in Manu’s law-book; but +as the age of this code was overrated at his time, he was led to one +erroneous conclusion: he attributes the historical process, of which we +speak, to the period before Buddha, while it really took place after +Buddha: L. von Schröder, in his work “Indian Literature and History,” in +the twenty-ninth lecture, gives us a good view of those times. + +Different passages in Manu’s code show us that the claim of the Brahmans +to divinity had not decreased in the course of the centuries. “The +Brahmans are to be venerated at all times, as they are the highest +divinity.” “By his very origin the Brahman is a god, even to the gods.” + +The many practical privileges they enjoyed were of still greater value. +They were exempt from taxation under all circumstances, “even if the king +should starve.” For the greatest crimes they could not be executed or +chastised, nor was their property liable to confiscation, while at the +same time the criminal law was very harsh towards the other castes and +especially towards the Súdras. The penalties increased proportionately: +the lower the caste to which the criminal belonged, the higher the +punishment; and the fines also increased in proportion to the rank of the +caste to which the injured man belonged. The money-lender was allowed +to exact (monthly) two per cent. of a Brahman, three of a Kshattriya, +four of a Vaisya, five of a Súdra. All these laws show how the Brahmans +understood the art of advancing their interests. The Súdra was by the +code deprived of all rights. “The Brahman may consider him as a slave and +is therefore entitled to take his property, as the property of the slave +belongs to the master.” “The Súdra shall not acquire wealth, even if he +be in a position to do so, as such conduct gives offense to the Brahman.” + +But all these things are harmless when compared with the principles by +which the Brahmans reduced to the most miserable of lives numberless +human creatures who had committed no wrong except that their origin did +not agree with the political scheme of the priests. Formerly it had been +lawful for the members of the three Aryan castes, after having married +a girl of the same caste, to take other wives of a lower caste besides, +and no disgrace attached to their children. The son of a Brahman and a +Vaisya—or even of a Súdra woman—was therefore a Brahman. But this was no +longer the case under the code of Manu. + +If the parents belonged to different castes, the children did not follow +either father or mother, but they formed a mixed caste and the law +distinctly regulates their occupations and trades. This theory gave birth +to a great number of mixed castes, who were more or less despised. And +the social standing of many of them grew still worse on account of an +absurd maxim which degraded the Indian people to the level of grass and +plants. Good seed in a bad soil gives of course a poorer return than in +good soil; still the crop is endurable. But weed introduced into good +soil produces weed abundantly. According to this theory of the Brahmans +the children were below the father, if he had married a wife of a higher +caste. The lowest and most execrable creature therefore is the son of +a Súdra and a Brahman woman. The destiny of a Súdra was of course hard +and unhappy, but the misery of the offspring of such a marriage, of the +Chandâla, defies all description. “He shall live far from the abodes of +other men and bear signs by which everybody can recognise and avoid him, +as his contact pollutes. Only in daytime shall he be admitted into the +villages, as then people can avoid him. He shall possess but common +animals like dogs and donkeys, eat out of broken plates, put on the +dresses of the dead, etc. They were compelled to serve as executioners. +To the utmost degree of contempt and misery has the proud Brahman reduced +these poor creatures.” (Schröder, pp. 423-424.) + +But the Chandâla was not the last in the Brahmanic scale, which +suppressed all dignity in human nature; his offspring, though he had +only a wife of the Súdra caste, was necessarily still below him. Thus +originated a great number of mixed castes, one more despised than the +other, and despising one another. Most of these outcasts take their names +from the Indian aborigines and are thus placed on the same level with +the most contemptible tribes. Some of the things I have cited about the +mixed castes, may have been merely a theory of the Brahmans; however, the +actual existence of classes of people reduced by the clergy to a sort of +animal life, has been sufficiently verified by foreign travellers. + +In modern times the separation of the people has been going on very +rapidly; so much so, that nearly every trade or profession now forms +a caste of its own, having no social intercourse with, nor patriotic +feelings for the other castes. This condition of things is due to the +influence of the Brahmans, for it has grown out of the social order they +have founded. + +It is not my task to arraign the Brahmans for the sins they have +committed; but simply to illustrate to my readers, how little they cared +for and had at heart the interests of their people. One will, upon the +whole, feel inclined to denounce the selfishness and immorality of the +Brahmans, but on the other hand will acknowledge with admiration the +intellectual work they have done, and forgive them much for the profound +thoughts with which they have enriched their country and the whole world. +Is it not the wisdom of the Brahmans that has given to the word India a +sound that stirs the hearts of all to whom the struggle for the highest +truth appears as the highest phenomenon in the history of civilisation? +But suppose it can be shown that the greatest of all the wisdom of the +Brahman, the monistic doctrine of the All-in-One, which has had the +greatest influence on the intellectual life of modern times, was not +discovered by them? + +Before I enter on this question, of the greatest importance from an +historical point of view, I will give a short sketch of the period of +Indian history in which this doctrine was established. + +For centuries the Brahmans had heaped sacrifice on sacrifice and +multiplied symbolical explanations without end. All this distinctly +bore the stamp of priestly sophistry. Suddenly higher thoughts arise. +The learning handed down by tradition and the sacrificial system are, +it is true, not altogether abandoned; the mind, however, is no longer +satisfied with the mysteries of the sacrifices, but aims at higher and +more sublime truth. The age of intellectual darkness is followed by a new +era, the characteristic of which is the ambition to solve the problems of +life and to understand the relation of the individual to the absolute. +All the efforts of the human mind are now bent on solving the question +of the eternal Unity, from which all phenomena have emanated and which +every one perceives within his own self. It is the age of the Upanishads, +those famous books, which, as soon as they were known in Europe, filled +all scholars with wild enthusiasm and admiration. I refer only to the +old Upanishads, that date from the eighth to the sixth century B. C., +not to the great number of books of the same name, but not of the same +value—there are over 200 of them—which appeared after the Christian era. +The Upanishads reveal the struggle of the mind to reach the highest +truth. Though they indulge occasionally in strange speculations, still +the idea of Brahma, of the universal soul, of the absolute, of the +thing in itself, is the ever-recurring subject of their thoughts, which +culminate in the idea that the Atman, the inner self of man, is naught +but the eternal and endless Brahma. A wonderful pathos animates the +language of the Upanishads and testifies to the sublime feelings in which +the thinkers of those times sought the great mystery of existence. They +look for all kinds of expressions, metaphors and figures, in order to +couch in words what cannot be described by words. We read for instance +in the venerable Brihadâranyaka Upanishad: “That which lives on the +earth, but is different from the earth, that which is the moving power +of the earth, that is your Self, the inner immortal ruler.” The same +is predicated of water, fire, ether, wind, sun, moon, and stars; and +then the chapter ends as follows: “Unseen, he sees; unheard, he hears; +unminded, he minds; unknown, he knows. There is none that sees but he; +there is none that hears but he; there is none that minds but he; there +is none that knows but he. He is thy soul, the inner ruler. Whatever is +different from him, is perishable.” + +In the same celebrated Upanishad appears a woman, named Gârgî, and moved +by thirst of knowledge she inquires of the wise Yâjnavalkya: “That which +is beyond the sky and beneath the earth, and between sky and earth, that +which is, was, and shall be, in what and with what is it interwoven (that +is: in what does it live and move)?” Yâjnavalkya, in order to try the +intellectual power of the woman, gives an evasive answer: “In the ether.” +But Gârgî, perceiving that this answer did not contain the final truth, +asks: “In what is the ether woven?” And Yâjnavalkya replied: “O Gârgî, +that is what the Brahman calls the Eternal; it is neither big, nor small, +nor large, nor short, without connection, without contact; by the Eternal +are ruled heaven and earth, sun and moon, days and nights; the power of +the Eternal directs the rivers south or west or to any other point of +the compass. Whoever parts from this world without having understood the +Eternal, is miserable.” + +In the Chândogya Upanishad, a book of no less importance, the same wisdom +is taught by a man named Uddâlaka to his son Shvetaketu in the form of +several parables. We see them standing in front of a Nyagrodha tree, that +kind of fig-tree that everywhere sends roots from the branches down to +the ground, thus producing new trunks, until in the course of time _one_ +tree resembles a green pillared hall. And in front of such a tree, the +most beautiful symbol of ever-youthful nature, the following conversation +takes place between father and son: “Get me a fruit of this tree.”—“Here +it is.”—“Break it.”—“It is broken.”—“What do you see in it?”—“I see quite +small kernels.”—“Break one of them.”—“It is broken.”—“What do you see in +it?”—“Nothing.”—Then the father said: “The fine matter that you cannot +see has produced this big tree, and believe me, my dear son, this same +matter, of which the earth is composed, is the Absolute, the Universal +Soul,—it is you.” + +The eternal ground of all existence which every one carries in himself, +Being as it is in itself, and as it is immediately perceived in thinking, +was, accordingly recognised as the sole reality, and all the manifold +changes of the phenomenal world were called Maya, a sham, a delusion, a +mockery of the senses. We see, it is a consistent monism which is taught +in the Upanishads. + +I do not intend here either to criticise the Brahman conception of +monism or to contrast it with modern forms of monism. All monisms have +at least one thing in common, viz. they all recognise the paramount +importance of consistency of thought as a basic principle in philosophy. +And to have propounded a monism for the first time is a feat which +cannot be overestimated. What remains of this essay will be devoted to +the investigation of the question, whether this feat is duly or unduly +credited to the Brahmans. + +It may first be mentioned, that a few scholars like Weber, Max Müller, +Regnaud, Deussen, and Bhandarkar, pointed out, a long time ago, certain +facts which show that another class of the Hindu nation founded the +monistic doctrine of the old Upanishads. But the attention of the great +public has never been called to this subject, which deserves to be known +by all interested in Indian history. + +In the second book of the Brihadâranyaka Upanishad, of which I have +already cited two passages, is found the following story, of which also +the fourth book of Kaushîtaki Upanishad gives a slightly different +version. + +The proud and learned Brahman Bâlâki Gârgya comes on his journey to +Ajâtashatru, prince of Benares, and says to him: “I will announce you +the Brahma.” The king, highly pleased, promises him a great reward, a +thousand cows. The Brahman begins to expound his wisdom: “The Spirit +(that is the power) in the sun I venerate as the Brahma.” But the king +interrupted him, saying that he knew that already. Then the Brahman +speaks about the Spirit in the moon, in lightning, ether, wind, fire, +water, but the king knows all that. And whatsoever the Gârgya might say, +is not new to the king. The Brahman became silent. But Ajâtashatru asked +him: “Is that all?” and Gârgya answered: “Yes, that is all.” Then the +king said: “Your little knowledge is not the Brahma;” whereupon Gârgya +declared that he should like to be one of the king’s pupils. Ajâtashatru +replied: “It is against nature, that a Brahman should learn from a +warrior and depend on him for the understanding of the Brahma, but I will +show it you nevertheless.” The king took him to a sleeping man and spoke +to the latter; but he did not get up. When the king touched him with his +hand, he arose. The king then asked the Brahman: “While this man was +sleeping where was his mind, and whence did it return now?” Gârgya could +not give an answer. Then the king explained to him, that the mind or the +Self of the sleeping man was wandering around in dream, that all places +were open to him, that he could be a great king or a great Brahman; but +that there was still a higher condition of felicity, that is, absorption +in dreamless sleep, without consciousness. In this condition the Self of +man, not affected by the outside world, reposes in his true essence and +knows no difference between Atman and Brahma. + +Another story, reported in the fifth book of Chândogya Upanishad and in +the sixth book of Brihadâranyaka Upanishad, is perhaps of still greater +importance. + +The young Brahman Shvetaketu comes to a convention, where the King +Pravâhana Jaivâli asks him: “Has your father instructed you?”—“Yes, +sir.”—“Do you know to what place the dead go?” And three more questions +he put to the young Brahman, who was compelled to admit that he knew +nothing about them. Discouraged, he returned to his father and reproached +him: “Although you have not imparted any knowledge to me, you claim that +you have instructed me. A _simple king_ has asked me three questions and +I could not answer a single one.” The father replied: “You have known me +sufficiently to understand that I taught you all I knew. Come, let us +go to the king and learn from him.” The king received the Brahman with +great honors and requested him to select a present. But Gautama refuses +all earthly gifts, gold, cows, horses, female slaves, and asks the king +to answer the questions he had put to his son. At first the king was +unwilling, but after a while he agreed to it and said, that no one on +earth could give information on those subjects, except a warrior. And the +following words of the king’s are very significant: “Would that neither +you nor your ancestors had trespassed on us, that this truth might never +have set up her residence among Brahmans. But to you, since you are so +inquiring, I will communicate our wisdom.” + +Substantially the same story is found at the beginning of the Kaushîtaki +Upanishad, except that the king appears under the name Chitra. + +Omitting points of less importance, I shall only give in a brief form +the contents of the eleventh and the following chapters of the fifth +book of the Chândogya Upanishad, where again a man of the warrior caste, +Ashvapati, prince of the Kekaya, is shown in possession of the highest +wisdom. A number of highly learned Brahmans were speculating on the +following problems: “What is our Self? What is the Brahma?” and they +decided to go to Uddâlaka Aruni, who, as they knew, was investigating +the “Omnipresent Self.” But Aruni said to himself: “Now, they will ask +me and I am not able to answer all their questions”; consequently he +requested his visitors to go with him to Ashvapati. The latter receives +them with great honors, invites them to stay with him, promising them +presents as high as their fees for sacrifices. But they replied: “A man +must communicate what he knows. You are just now seeking the ‘Omnipresent +Self’; disclose to us what it is?” The king, said: “I will answer you +to-morrow.” The following day, without having received them among his +pupils, that is, without a ceremonial reception as was usual, he asked +them: “What do you venerate as the Self?” They replied: “Heaven, sun, +wind, ether, water, earth.” The king reminded them that they were all +mistaken in considering the Omnipresent Self as a finite and limited +being; it was the infinite, the infinitely small and the infinitely great. + +The weight of these stories is very plain. Whether they refer to real +facts or merely reflect the views of those times in the form of legends, +cannot be decided. However, the question of the historical truth of these +stories has no bearing whatever. The fact that they are to be found in +genuine Brahmanic writings, in books which are considered in India as +the basis of the Brahman caste, speaks a plain language. It shows, that +the thought of claiming the monistic doctrine of the Brahma-Atman as +the inheritance of their caste, did not occur to the authors of the old +Upanishads, or that they dared not claim it; it may be that they did not +yet realise the great importance of the same. Of course in the following +ages this science became the exclusive property of the Brahmans and was +cultivated and developed by them during twenty centuries—but this does +not do away with the fact that it originated among the warrior caste. The +men of this caste recognised at once the hollowness of the sacrificial +system and its absurd symbolical character; and to them is due the credit +of having disclosed a new world of thought and of having accomplished a +revolution in the intellectual life of Ancient India. When we learn that +the Brahmans continued the sacrificial system, even after having adopted +the new creed, and by representing religious ceremonials as the first +step to knowledge, thus combined two wholly heterogeneous elements; we +may justly conclude that things have taken the same course in Ancient +India as in other countries. Progressive ideas are first opposed by the +priesthood, their born enemy, until they have become so powerful that +they cannot be opposed any longer, whereupon the priest adopts them and +tries to harmonise them with his superstitions. + +But the ideas mentioned in the preceding paragraphs, the substance of +what is commonly called “Hindu wisdom,” are not all that the warriors +have done for the religion and philosophy of the people. The noble +Gautama of Kapilavastu, the best known of all Hindus, who established +Buddhism about 500 years before Christ, was also a Kshattriya, and +according to the more recent tradition, which alone was formerly known, +the son of a king; but according to the earlier sources, disclosed +by Oldenberg, he was the son of a landed proprietor. Buddha, “the +Enlightened,” under which name he is known all over the world, most +strenuously opposed the sacrificial system and the superstitions of the +Brahmans. The ceremonies and the science of the priesthood seemed to him +a perfect fraud, and the caste system an absurd institution; he taught +that the final beatitude is within the reach of the lowest man, as well +as of the Brahman and the king; that every one, without distinction of +birth, can attain to “salvation” by contempt of the world, self-denial, +and devotion to the welfare of his fellow beings. + +Oldenberg’s excellent book on Buddha, the newest standard work on this +subject, makes it unnecessary for me to dwell at length on the doctrine +of the greatest of all Hindus; only in regard to one important point, +which has a direct bearing on the subject under consideration, do I +differ from his opinion. According to the oldest sources, Buddha’s +method of teaching is, to a great extent, beyond the understanding of +the bulk of the people; not a popular, but an abstract philosophical +one. For intrinsic reasons, I believe that the old sources do not give +a correct report of this matter, and we must not forget that centuries +separate them from Buddha. Oldenberg himself raises the point, whether +the dry and tedious ecclesiastical style, in which Buddha’s thoughts are +clothed by those sources, truly reflects the spoken word. He says on +page 181: “Whoever reads the words which the sacred books attribute to +Buddha will doubt that the form in which Buddha taught his precepts is +to be identified with that abstract and sometimes abstruse metaphysical +language. A youthful, invigorating spirit, pervading alike teacher and +disciples, is the true picture of those times, admitting of no unnatural +or artificial features.” + +In spite of this, he comes to the conclusion that “the solemn and stern +way of speaking, peculiar to Buddha, has been better expressed by +tradition than by what we would feel tempted to substitute.” I am not of +this opinion. In India a great success could not have been obtained but +by overpowering eloquence and a popular method, intelligible to all, and +proceeding by parables and metaphors. + +If Buddha had only appealed to the intellect of his nearest surroundings, +consisting merely of aristocratic elements, if he had not found his way +to the heart of the people, his monastery would very likely have shared +the destiny of the other religious congregations of his age, which have +all disappeared, except one. As the doctrines of these monasteries or +their founders do not substantially differ from each other, and as it +cannot be ascribed to mere chance that Buddha’s doctrine has developed +into a universal religion, having the greatest number of adherents, +there remains but one hypothesis to account for this fact, and that +is the superiority of Buddha’s way of teaching. The erroneousness of +the generally prevailing opinion that Buddha was in his time the only +founder of a new religion, and that he suddenly revolutionised the social +organisation of the Indian people, has been clearly established by recent +investigations. In fact, he was a “primus inter pares,” one of those +numerous ascetics who were striving for and preaching “liberation” from +the eternal transmigration. + +Besides Buddha’s, only one congregation has survived: the Jaina, having +numerous members in the western part of India. The principles of the +Jaina are very similar to those of Buddha; so much so that until recently +it was considered merely as a sect of Buddhism, while it is really a +religion of its own, founded by a contemporary or a predecessor of +Buddha, named Vardhamâna Jnâtaputra—in the language of the people, +Vaddhamâna Nâtaputta—in the same part of the country where Buddha rose. +The only difference between the two religions is this: Vardhamâna lays +great stress on castigation; while the more progressive Buddha declares +it useless—nay, pernicious. The important point in regard to the object +of our essay is this: that the founder of Jaina, which occupies a high +place in the history of Hindu culture, was also a member of the Warrior +Caste. + +We shall now have to consider another production of the Indian mind, +the very name of which is unknown to most of our readers, although it +offers the most interesting religious problems. I refer to the doctrine +of the Bhâgavatas or Pâncharâtras. These names, of which the former +is the earlier and original one, designate a religious sect in North +India, whose existence in the fourth century B. C. is authentically +proved, but which can be placed with great probability in the time +before Buddha. They professed a common-sense monotheism, independent of +the traditions of the old Brahmans, and venerated God under different +names: Bhagavant, “The Sublime,” whence their name is derived; Nârâyana, +“Son of Man;” Purashottamma, “The Supreme Being”; but generally under +the name Krishna Vâsudeva, “Son of Vâsudeva”. The character of their +worship produced feelings identical with the Christian love and devotion +to God. The Hindu word for this feeling is Chakti, and for him who was +penetrated by the same, Chakta. As the word Chakti cannot be found or has +not been found in the Hindu literature earlier than the era of Christ, +several scholars are inclined to attribute the Chakti to the influence +of Christianity, especially Professor Weber, who deserves the highest +praise for his researches concerning Krishna worship. Weber has proved +in several of his books, especially in a highly interesting treatise +on Krishna’s birth, that numerous Christian notions have entered into +the later Krishna legends (the similarity of the names, Krishna and +Christ, accounts for it): for instance, the birth of Christ among the +shepherds, the story about the stable, and others of the same kind. In +spite of this, I cannot embrace the opinion that the Chakti has been +brought from a foreign country, because its first appearance belongs +to a period in which Christian influences cannot be found. As I cannot +go into details without discussing very difficult points, requiring a +great deal of erudition, I will only say that whoever is familiar with +the old Hindu civilisation will easily understand that the Chakti is of +genuine Hindu origin. Monotheistic notions can be traced to the oldest +periods of Hindu antiquity, and the Hindu mind has always been animated +by a high aspiration towards God; so that it should not surprise us that +this feature of the Hindu character has produced a religion popular and +independent of philosophical speculation, consisting in love and devotion +to God. The founder of this religion was Krishna Vâsudeva, afterwards +raised to divine dignity, or rather identified with the deity; from his +name and from the legends attached to his name, he was a member of the +Warrior Caste. As early as the epoch of the Mahâbhârata, the great Indian +epic poem, the Brahmans appropriated to themselves the name and work of +Krishna, and transformed the venerated hero into the God Vishnu; thus +increasing their strength by adopting a doctrine not of Brahmanic origin. + +We have thus found that the profound philosophical monism of the +Upanishads, the highly moral religions of Buddha and Jaina, and last, +not least, the creed of the Bhâgavatas, based on pure devotion to God, +did not originate among the Brahmans. + +However favorably we may judge of the achievements of the Brahmans in all +branches of science, and I am far from vilifying their merits, still it +is certain that the greatest intellectual performances of India, nay, all +such in India that have been beneficial to mankind, were accomplished by +men of the Warrior Caste. + + RICHARD GARBE. + + + + +THE IDEA OF NECESSITY, ITS BASIS AND ITS SCOPE. + + +The idea of necessity, although a fundamental concept in philosophy +and science, has not as yet been so clearly defined that all thinkers +would agree as to its meaning and significance. Necessity is frequently +identified with compulsion, and thus it is supposed to be incompatible +with freedom of will. It is also identified with fate, as if it were a +destiny that existed above the will of man and the powers of nature, +similar to the Moira of the ancients. It is said to exclude chance in +every possible conception of the term and to cause the evolution of the +world to proceed by a predetermined arrangement, like the mechanism of a +clock. + +We cannot endorse Mr. Charles S. Peirce’s objection to the doctrine +of necessity, but we side with him when he denounces the mechanical +philosophy for considering minds as “part of the physical world in such a +sense that the laws of mechanics determine everything that happens.” Mr. +Peirce is right when he rebukes the mechanical philosopher for “entering +consciousness under the head of sundries as a forgotten trifle.” In some +sense minds are parts of the physical, i. e. the natural, world, but they +are not parts of that province of nature which constitutes the special +domain of physics and mechanics. Ideas are not motions and cannot be +explained by mechanical laws. + +Having criticised in a former article of ours Mr. Peirce’s position, and +having rejected the indeterminism proposed by him, we shall discuss in +the following pages the basis and scope of the idea of necessity. + +The idea of necessity is based upon the conception of sameness, and we +find that the existence of samenesses is a feature of the world in which +we live. The existence of samenesses is a fact of experience, and upon +the presence of this fact depends the possibility of the origin, the +being, and the development of the thinking mind itself. + +Necessity, as we understand it, must be carefully distinguished from +the idea of fate. Although we accept without reserve the doctrine of +determinism, we do not mean to deny the important part that chance plays +in the world—not absolute chance, which according to Mr. Peirce is exempt +from law, but that same chance of which the throw of a die is a typical +instance. And bearing in mind that necessity is not a power outside +of nature and above the will of man, but that it resides in them as +the quality of sameness, we abandon the view that identifies necessity +with compulsion; recognising thus, that freedom of the will is not +incompatible with our view of necessitarianism. + + +I. THE BASIS OF NECESSITY. + +The standpoint from which we shall treat this subject is that of monistic +positivism,—the method which accepts no doctrine, theory, or law unless +it be a formulation of facts. Facts are the bottom-rock to which we can +and must dig down. At the same time, wherever facts appear contradictory +to one another, we should not be satisfied, but continue to investigate +until they are systematised so as to form a unitary entirety. + +Before we begin our inquiry into the existence or non-existence of +necessity, it is advisable to define the meaning of the term. + +The Latin word _necesse_ is most probably a compound of the negative _ne_ +and the supine _cessum_ from _cedere_ to yield, to move. “Necessary,” +according to this etymology, would mean that which does not yield but +abides. Thus it is the inevitable; it is that which is or will be. + +It is in this sense that the word is still used, or at least ought to be +used, and in this sense we shall also use it. + +Every word naturally acquires by a more or less appropriate application +a series of meanings. So “necessary” means also that which is needful, +that which is essential, that which is indispensable and requisite; it +also means that which is done under compulsion. It is understood that +we exclude all the other meanings of necessary except the original one, +which is its properly philosophical meaning. + +The idea of necessity is closely allied to the idea of sameness. In order +to understand the former we must be clear concerning the meaning of the +latter. + + +THE IDEA OF SAMENESS. + +There exist a number of synonyms often used indiscriminately; they are: +identity, sameness, equality, congruity, similarity, and likeness. By +“identity” we generally understand a sameness in every respect, absolute +sameness; by “equality”, a sameness that can be expressed in figures. +Equality is always a measurable sameness, and refers to quantity, mass, +size, length, height, age, etc. Likeness and similitude are samenesses +of form or of proportion, albeit not of size. It is often used as a +partial sameness of impressions, not so much as they are in themselves, +but as they appear to the mind. Congruity is a synonym of sameness in the +province of geometry, denoting the coincidence of figures when laid upon +one another.[10] + +The logical principle of identity, so-called, it appears to me, ought +to be named the principle of sameness, for it has not reference to the +absolute sameness of a thing with itself.[11] The statement _A_ = _A_ +does not mean that this particular thing _A_ is itself and that therefore +the one _A_ is one and the same thing. It is a general statement and +means that all _A_, in so far as they are _A_, are the same. The +statement _A_ = _A_, as I take it, presupposes the existence of a +number of _A’s_; otherwise it would have no sense, and it would not only +be empty, (as we know from Kant that all formal statements are,) but +meaningless and useless. It would be of no avail either in logic or in +science. + +In consideration of the fact that the idea of sameness is a fundamental +concept in our scientific, logical, and philosophical reasoning, it is +astonishing that no satisfactory definition of it is to be found. To +define “same” as “one in substance; not other, ... of one nature or +general character, of one kind, degree, or amount,” as is done in the +“Century Dictionary,” is no improvement upon “Webster,” who defines it +as “not different or other; identical. Of like kind, species, sort, +dimensions or the like; not different in character or in the quality +or qualities compared; ... like.” However, dictionaries are not +encyclopædias; and they have perhaps a right to define same as identical, +and identical as same. + +Mr. James Ward, in the “Encyclopædia Britannica,” (XVI, 81, in his +excellent article on “Psychology,”) incidentally complains about +the ambiguity of the word “same”; he proposes a distinction between +“material identity” and “individual identity,” but this does not solve +the difficulty. Flemming’s “Vocabulary of Philosophy” (4th ed. edited by +Calderwood) contains several articles on “identical” and on “identity” +without discussing in any one of them the meaning of “same” or of +“identical.” + +What then is the meaning of same? + +Let us first consider the etymology of the word. The root of “same” +is found in almost all Indo-European languages; it is preserved in +the first syllable of the Latin “similis” and “simul,” in the second +syllable of the German “Zu_samm_en”; in the Greek “ἅμα” and “ὅμοιος,” +and the Sanskrit “sama,” all of which denote a togetherness. Thus the +etymological meaning seems to signify what is classed in one category. +Accordingly, the present meaning as defined by the dictionaries, as +being that which is “of one nature or not different in character,” has +not changed; at any rate if there is any change, it is slight. Yet it is +desirable to bring out and set in a clear light the purport of the word +and its essence. + +What, then, is the economic service and function of the idea of +“sameness” in the household of thought? + +“Sameness” is that feature in two things or states of things, in two +processes or modes of action, which brings it to pass that the one may +be replaced by the other without altering for a certain purpose the +state of things or affecting the result of the entire process. Popularly +expressed, sameness is the capability of one thing’s being substituted +for another. + +There is no need of discussing or proving the truism, that, properly +speaking, there is no absolute sameness, no identity in the strict sense +of the term. This was the meaning of Heraclitus’s idea of the perpetual +flux of things, expressed in his πάντα ῥεῖ. There are no two moments in +time, no two points in space, no two atoms of matter actually identical, +and we cannot enter into the identical river twice. + +Cratylus tried to outdo Heraclitus, by saying that we cannot even enter +once into the identical river, for while entering, not only the river +changes but also we ourselves; and Cratylus is perfectly right. + +We have purposely substituted in Heraclitus’s proposition “identical” for +“same,” because this change is needed to bring out the truth of the idea. +Heraclitus and Cratylus cease to be right if we use the word same as +above defined. We enter indeed the same river twice. The river of to-day +is, for a certain purpose, quite the same as the river of yesterday, in +so far namely as the river of to-day and the river of yesterday serve a +certain and the same purpose: for other purposes this same river will +perhaps not be the same. The geographer and historian speak of the Rhine +as that stream of water which since time immemorial has flowed down from +the St. Gotthardt to the North Sea. Accordingly, if we stand on the bank +of the Rhine, it is quite correct to say that this is the same river +that was crossed by Cæsar. Let the purpose of our thoughts be changed, +and we shall no longer be permitted to speak of sameness. Suppose we had +seen the Rhine for the first time in its beautiful emerald coloring, and +had come again after a rainy day to admire its beauty, should we not be +justified in exclaiming: This is not the same river! + +Sameness, accordingly, depends upon a special purpose. If in a chemical +combination a metal is wanted, it may be all the same whether we use +iron, zinc, lead, or gold. That is to say, it is all the same for +bringing about a special result; yet it is not all the same in other +respects. The weight and certain other qualities of the metals are +different, and also the cost. + + +SAMENESS AND MIND. + +Sameness depending upon a special purpose, the question arises, Is there +any objective sameness in the world, or is sameness a mere subjective +addition to things? Is sameness something “real” or is it purely mental? + +This is the old quarrel between the Nominalists and Realists among +the Schoolmen. It lies at the bottom of the problem of universals +and particulars, and we should say, it is only a special form of the +question, “Are relations objective qualities of existence or are they +products of the mind?” which was discussed in a former number (_The +Monist_, II, 2, pp. 240-42). The idea of sameness represents the most +important relation that exists; and if any relation is real, the relation +of sameness must be real also. + +If sameness depends upon a special purpose, it appears that there can be +no sameness without that purpose; and the purpose being purely mental, +the sameness also would seem to be purely mental. But this is not so. +Sameness is an idea, and it is no exception to other ideas. All ideas +are mental symbols formed for a special purpose; but, being symbols of +something, ideas are representative of some reality, or of some feature +of a reality, or of some relation between two or several things. Every +idea stands for something; and this quality of the significance of ideas +is called their meaning or their import. + +The question now is, How does the idea of sameness originate in the world +where, as we stated above, there is no absolute sameness, no identity? +Our answer is that sameness, not identity, is a general feature of this +world of reality, which impresses itself upon every mind from the very +beginning of the mind’s origin. + +We can go farther in our statement and make it more emphatic: Mind +originates and grows only on the ground of the fact that sameness is a +feature of the world, and is recognised as such by feeling substance. + +Two points or two congruent geometrical figures being in different places +are not identical. But they are of such a nature that, so far as regards +the purposes of geometry, one serves the purposes in question just as +well as the other, or one can be replaced by the other; and this quality +is called their sameness. + +Now as a matter of fact there are no two concrete things in the world in +which there cannot be found some sameness. Both somehow affect sentiency; +we say they consist of matter. Both can be measured in size, breadth, +and height: we say, they are extended. Both are at any given moment in a +certain relation to other things: we say, they are in space. Both have a +definite form and consist of one or several special structures (i. e., +so to say, inside-forms). All things can in some way or other be classed +together under one heading. These samenesses of things go along with +differences, and the degree of sameness in the different things varies +greatly. Whether there is any sameness and difference at all in the +world, cannot be decided _a priori_, but is a problem which can be solved +only on the ground of, first, an _a posteriori_ statement of the facts, +second, a systematical arrangement of the facts. If this is accomplished +we can venture into a methodical investigation as to the nature of the +samenesses as well as the differences that obtain in the universe, and +having arranged them in a system, we can apply _a priori_ this system to +facts with which we are not as yet acquainted. + +The many samenesses which are experienced are not purely mental +additions; they are not mere subjective imputations transferred upon +objective existence. They are real; i. e. there are in the objective +things actual features which allow of certain substitutions. A ray of +light awakens in some feeling substance the traces left by former rays of +light; and this reawakening is called memory. The perception of sameness +is the beginning of mind, and it involves the perception of difference as +a natural consequence. + +Suppose that the stuff of which the world consists were capable of +acquiring feeling, but there were no samenesses whatever; which would +mean that every smallest piece of the world-stuff were a particular +thing by itself and in every respect unlike every other piece, of a +different material or of no material at all, of different size or of +no size at all, and also possessed of a different number of space +dimensions. In such a world all the impacts made upon a sentient being +would be different; not one would be like the other, and all feelings +would present a chaos without uniformities, worse than the most complex +crazy-quilt. Under such circumstances mind would be impossible: it would +neither originate nor could it develop. + +On the other hand suppose again that the stuff of which the world +consists were capable of acquiring feeling in some certain formation, and +that there were samenesses in the world and in the events of the world. +Would not mind necessarily originate in such a world? Given feeling +substance in a world of samenesses and differences, these samenesses will +produce analogous samenesses of impression upon the feeling substance, +which will be perceived as samenesses of feeling. The preservation of the +traces left in the feeling substance (supposing this substance to live +on indefinitely) will in the long run result in the formation of special +sense-organs. It will later on, with the aid of word-symbolism, lead to +the formation of universals, for universals are nothing but samenesses +perceived. It will then create with the assistance of abstraction the +realm of scientific thought, representing the uniformities of the events +of the world in exact formulas. + + +THE EXISTENCE OF SAMENESSES A FACT. + +The question whether there are samenesses at all in the world, is in our +opinion settled. It is a fact that there are samenesses. The uniformities +of the world are a matter of indubitable experience—indubitable because +our very existence as thinking beings, as minds, is conditioned by this +fact. We see the mind of every child develop out of his perception of +samenesses. Our scientists teach us that the race-soul, like a great +immortal individual, is the product of the accumulated experience +of samenesses; and all future progress, in science as well as in +civilisation, in mechanical invention as well as in ethics, depends upon +the trustworthiness of the samenesses stated to exist in the objective +world. + +The question of the ultimate _raison d’être_ of the samenesses and +differences, is another question; and it would lead us too far here +to discuss it. In several details the problem is not as yet ripe for +solution. A full solution of the problem would be tantamount to the +exposition of a complete knowledge of the world. Suffice it here to +say that we have reasons to think of the world-stuff as being of the +same nature throughout. The chemical elements seem to be different +configurations of one and the same substance. In this way all difference +would have to be explained as a difference of form. + +The form of reality possesses sameness and difference in all its parts. +Space in its sameness is by experience found to be tri-dimensional, which +means, it is determinable throughout by three coördinates; while its +differences are due to the position of the points considered. For the +purpose of the geometrician space is uniform, but for the purpose, say +of the architect, it is not uniform. To the geometrician two congruent +triangles, whether they are in the cellar or in the garret, are the same. +However, to the architect the position of two congruent triangles in his +design of a house is by no means the same. Every single point of space +has its special and individual qualities. + +The whole business of science is to systematise the samenesses of +experience, and to present them in such convenient formulas that they can +be used for guidance in our actions. + +The most comprehensive formulation of the sameness of the universe as +a whole has found its expression in the law of the conservation of +matter and energy. This law rests upon the experience, corroborated by +experiments, that causation is transformation. It states that the total +amount of matter and the total amount of energy remain constant. There is +no creation out of nothing and no conversion of something into nothing. + + +EINDEUTIG BESTIMMT. + +After this sketch of the importance of sameness, (a subject which we have +by no means exhausted,) we return to the idea of necessity. The ideas +of sameness and necessity are closely related. A world of sameness is a +world in which necessity rules, and necessity means regularity and order. + +German scientists have a very good expression to denote the formulation +of events in a manner which describes them in their necessary course. If +they have succeeded in finding the sameness in the instances of a certain +class of events, they say that it is _eindeutig bestimmt_, which means, +the sameness is determined in a way that admits of no equivocation; it is +complete, representing solely and purely that feature upon the presence +of which the result depends. Whatever is thus _eindeutig bestimmt_, is +recognised in its necessity. The presence of that feature which makes it +_eindeutig bestimmt_, determines the event to take place; and this being +determined, its inevitableness, the _it will be_ of the process, is all +there is to necessity. + +All natural phenomena that can be _eindeutig bestimmt_ are necessary in +their happening. A world which with regard to the total amount of its +matter and energy is the same to-day and yesterday and will be the same +to-morrow, a world whose laws of form possess a sameness throughout, so +that it allows of formulating and applying them in their rigidity to all +facts present, past, and future, a world in which all the changes are +transformations determinable with the assistance of formal laws, can be +relied upon and the course of its events can be computed. + +Such _is_ the world in which we live; and taking this ground I say, the +world is a cosmos, it is no chaos; and noticing that being possessed +of sameness is an intrinsic and inalienable feature of the world, I +am inclined to add the world never was and never will be a chaos. And +this, if it be true at all, is true not only in general and as it were +wholesale, but in its minutest details. If there were deficiencies of +this order in the unobservable details, they would not be diminished +by being summed up in large and ever larger amounts; on the contrary, +they would increase; they would grow in proportion. This not being +the case, we have not the slightest reason to doubt that in those +realms of minutest existence into which, from the grossness and the +lack of precision of our organs and instruments of observation, we +cannot penetrate, the same order and regularity obtains as in those +regions which lie open to our investigation. In other words: From this +standpoint, existence is, so to say, permeated by law throughout; every +event is determined and any kind of absolute chance is excluded. + +Following Kant’s etymology we understand by _a posteriori_ the sensory +elements, and by _a priori_ the formal elements of our experience. The +queer expression “a priori” is in so far justified as formal truths (such +as geometrical, arithmetical, logical rules) are formulas expressing the +universal samenesses of the form of existence. They contain the laws of +form in a shape that is _eindeutig bestimmt_, so that an experimenter +will know them _a priori_ to be so. _A priori_ means beforehand. An +experimenter knows certain things even before he makes his experiments. +The _a priori_ elements of experience are by no means innate truths; nor +are they the historical beginning of experience. On the contrary. In +their abstract purity they appear as a very late product of man’s mental +evolution. + +The _a priori_ systems of thought are not arbitrary constructions; they +are constructions raised out of the recognition of the formal, i. e. the +relational, samenesses that appear in experience. All possibilities of a +certain class of relations can be exhausted and formulated in theorems. +As such they can be used as references to assist in the explanation and +determination of new experiences. We know some part of any new experience +with which we are confronted even before we have investigated it. We know +certain laws of its form, and by reference to these known laws we are +enabled to reduce the unknown to the known, to analyse the process and +set forth that feature of it which makes _eindeutig bestimmt_. + + +II. THE SCOPE OF NECESSITY. + +Mr. Peirce objects to necessitarianism, and classes it together with +materialism and the mechanical philosophy, speaking of the latter as +the most logical form of necessitarianism. In consonance with the +dictionary-definitions of these words, he contrasts them to the doctrine +of the freedom of the will and also to miracles—the latter, we must +confess, being a dangerous concession to certain theological conceptions. + +The “Century Dictionary” defines “necessitarianism” as + + “The theory that the will is subject to the general mechanical + law of cause and effect.” + +And “necessitarian” as + + “One who maintains the doctrine of philosophical necessity, + in opposition to that of the freedom of the will: opposed to + libertarian.” + +The word “determinism” is regarded as a synonym of necessitarianism. Its +first definition in the “Century Dictionary” reads as follows: + + “A term invented by Sir William Hamilton to denote the doctrine + of the necessitarian philosophers, who hold that man’s actions + are uniformly determined by motives acting upon his character, + and that he has not the power to choose to act in one way so + long as he prefers on the whole to act in another way.” + +Hamilton’s definition as here presented is puzzling. If the words +“choose” and “prefer on the whole” are _not_ meant to be tautological, +there is no sense in it; for no determinist denies that a man might “upon +the whole” prefer to act this way, while he has the power to choose, +and for special considerations perhaps does choose, to act in another +way. However, if the words “choose” and “prefer on the whole” are meant +to be tautological, the self-contradictoriness of the statement is too +palpable for a Hamilton. Is there anybody who would maintain that a man +who chooses to act in one way can at the same time, under the very same +circumstances, and he remaining the very same man of the same character +and intentions, choose to act in another way? + +While we accept determinism and also necessitarianism in the sense that +all events (the actions of willing beings included) are determined, we +cannot accept either the mechanical philosophy or materialism as the +terms are commonly understood. + +We find materialism defined as + + “The metaphysical doctrine that matter is the only substance, + and that matter and its motions constitute the universe.” + (“Century Dictionary,” 2d sense.) + +The mechanical philosophy is explained _sub voce_ “atomic” as + + “[The view that] from the diverse combination and motions of + ... atoms all things, including the soul, were supposed to + arise.” _Ibid._ + +Determinism is simply the negation of absolute chance. It does not +exclude chance in the original sense of the word as an unexpected event, +as something that befalls one without his seeking it or making the +event—chance being derived from ML. _cadentia_, i. e. the falling, as in +a throw of dice. + +The “Century Dictionary” defines “chance” in sense 9, as + + “Fortuity; especially the absence of a cause necessitating an + event.” + +This is absolute chance, the existence of which we deny. The “Century +Dictionary” adds the following little note: + + “Absolute chance, the (supposed) spontaneous occurrence of + events undetermined by any general law or by any free volition. + According to Aristotle, events may come about in three ways: + first, by necessity or an external compulsion; second, by + nature or the development of an inward germinal tendency; and + third, by chance, without any determining cause or principle + whatever, by lawless, sporadic originality.”[12] + +We understand chance as being, from certain premisses, an incalculable +coincidence, either not intended to be calculated, or, for certain +reasons, from a given standpoint with a limited and definite amount of +knowledge, not capable of calculation. Determinism, as we understand +the term, does not imply as the “Century Dictionary” has it in its +definition of necessitarianism, that “the law of cause and effect” is +“mechanical.” It simply asserts that the law of cause and effect holds +good universally, and that there is no effect that is not definitely +determined, according to the nature of the things in action, by causes +and all their circumstances. + + +NECESSITY AND CHANCE. + +Mr. Peirce says: + + “_All_ the diversity and specificalness of events is + attributable to chance—diversification, specificalness, and + irregularity of things, I suppose is chance—and this diversity + cannot be due to laws that are immutable.” (P. 332.) + +Our world-view leads us to other conclusions; we say: + +Every specificalness or particularity is such by possessing a certain +form and standing in a definite relation (in time as well as space) to +all other things of the universe. Of every concrete thing we can say it +is now and here, or it was then and there. It is or was made up in this +special way, and it stands or it stood in these special relations to its +surroundings. Proportions, relations, forms—these are what account for +the diversification and specificalness of all things in the universe; +they are what explain the irregularities of individual cases and of all +those events which appear as chance to him who, although he may be well +informed about the nature of a thing, does not know the relation of +its complex surroundings, exercising according to law their disturbing +influence upon its actions which otherwise would be uniform. + +And since no two spots of space and no two instances of time are the +same, since the relations of every atom are different in every position +and at every moment of its existence, we need not be astonished to find +diversity and specificalness in this world of samenesses. + +We do not believe in absolute chance, but we believe in chance. + +What is chance? + +Chance is any event not especially intended, either not calculated, or, +with a given and limited stock of knowledge, incalculable. + +Gunpowder was, according to the legend, invented by chance. Berthold +Schwartz intended to make gold, yet when the mixture was ignited, he +began to understand that it was an explosive. When I say that I met +a friend by chance, I mean that the meeting was unintentional. I had +not foreseen it and perhaps could not foresee it. When we call a throw +of dice pure chance, we mean that the incidents which condition the +turning up of these or those special faces of the dice have not been or +cannot be calculated. We do not mean that the law of cause and effect is +suspended; we mean that we are unable to determine the effect. That which +would make this or that throw _eindeutig bestimmt_ is either not known to +us, or, if it were known, is of such a nature that we cannot produce the +desired effect with any certainty. Matters are so arranged in the game of +dice that the slightest incident changes the result, and these incidents +are either not within our ken or not within the range of our power. +Chance, accordingly, as we understand it, is no exception to necessity; +it does not happen contrary to law, and is in each case the strict result +of a definite cause under definite circumstances. + +Absolute chance is something quite different. Absolute chance is that +which is incalculable because of the absence of law. Mr. Peirce says: + + “Another argument, or convenient commonplace, is that absolute + chance is _inconceivable_. This word has eight current + significations. The ‘Century Dictionary’ enumerates six. Those + who talk like this will hardly be persuaded to say in what + sense they mean that chance is inconceivable.” + +Absolute chance is “inconceivable” as the word is defined by the “Century +Dictionary” in the second sense: It is + + “unacceptable to the mind because involving a violation of laws + believed to be well established by positive evidence.” + +Absolute chance is not unthinkable in the sense of unimaginable. We can +very well depict a case of absolute chance in our imagination, just as +we can tell and describe in minutest details the fairy tale of Alladin’s +lamp; just as we can in our imagination depict a creation out of nothing. +But he who accepts that the world is in its innermost nature a cosmos, +that its events are strictly and throughout regulated by law, cannot +at the same time think that there are nooks and crevices in which the +law does not operate. Absolute chance actually involves the idea of a +creation out of nothing; and thus it stands in contradiction to the law +of the preservation of matter and energy. Absolute chance which means +that the very same thing under the very same conditions can act in this +or in some other way, that it need not act in exactly the same way, +involves a belief in either the creation of a not existing quality out +of nothing, or the disappearance of existing qualities into nothing. + +Mr. Peirce says: + + “It seems to me that every throw of sixes with a pair of dice + is a manifest instance of chance.” + +Yes, of chance; but not of that chance the existence of which Mr. Peirce +maintains—not of absolute chance. Every throw of dice, every toss of head +or tail, are exactly determined by circumstances. We call it chance only +in so far as we cannot calculate and predetermine the result. + +Suppose you take two large silver coins between your thumb and the first +two fingers, one coin parallel to and a little above the other. Suppose +tails are up in both. Drop the lower coin without an effort just as it +would fall, about twenty inches, and you may be sure that, in spite of +yourself, it will turn up head. Then drop the upper one and it will not +turn, but plump right down showing tail. There are certain mechanical +reasons for the one case as well as for the other. As soon as we know the +law and can apply it, the case ceases to be an instance of chance. + +Dice, the roulette, and other games of chance are so arranged, that +the determinating circumstances are too numerous and also too complex, +one interfering with and being disturbed by the others, to admit +of any adequate calculation or predetermination. An arrangement of +conditions which in this way eludes the calculation of a definite set of +possibilities, is called by Professor Kries _gleiche Spielräume_ or equal +chances. And the province of equal chances is and will remain the proper +sphere of the calculus of probabilities. + +Professor Nitsche objects to Kries’s proposition, saying that absolutely +equal chances are impossible and an equal chance (_ein gleicher +Spielräume_) is nothing but the objectification of a judgment of equal +value.[13] We find no fault with Nitsche’s objection; there are no +absolutely equal chances; and what is called “equal chance” means that +the strength of two or several anticipations is of the same degree; that +our belief and doubt as to the turning up of one, two, three, four, five, +or six spots of a die are equally justified. The objective conditions +which justify such equality of several expectations is what Kries (if +we understand him correctly) calls _gleiche Spielräume_. But _gleiche +Spielräume_ do not imply absolute chance. We might as well expect that +all the six faces of a die should turn up simultaneously in one throw, as +that any one of them should turn up by absolute chance. + +While absolute chance cannot be admitted, partly because we are not in +need of it, (since the irregularities of nature can be sufficiently +explained otherwise,) and partly because the idea of absolute chance if +it were needed, is incompatible with our world-conception, we shall, +nevertheless, have to concede to chance, as we understand the term, a +very important rôle in the evolution of life. The formation of worlds and +the history of mankind depend to a great extent upon chances similar to +the throws of dice. There are many possibilities, and now this, now that, +will, according to the circumstances, be realised—of course in each case +with strict necessity. + +Let us illustrate this idea by an example. + +The formation of about seventy elements out of the original +world-substance, which may be supposed to be homogeneous, does not appear +to depend upon chance. Their universal appearance in all parts of the +universe suggests the hypothesis that their formation is the inevitable +result of a gradual condensation of nebular substances. We find +everywhere, according to the stage of condensation, a gradual appearance, +first of the lighter, then of the heavier elements. There seems to be +no possibility of the formation of other elements than those known to +us (including here the hypothetical elements which are still missing in +the Mendeljeff series and at the same time, at least, not excluding a +further continuance of the series). These elements or none, it appears, +must be formed out of the original substance of our world. Let us here +assume, for argument’s sake, that it were so beyond question, and that we +knew the nature of the world-substance to be such as to condense, if it +condenses at all, into no other but these forms, which we call chemical +elements. This would be a limitation of possibilities. Exactly so the +throws Of dice are limited. With the dice commonly in use we cannot throw +fractions; nor can we throw either zero, or seven, or any other higher +number. We can throw only whole numbers, integrals from one up to six. +But while we thus assume that the formation of the elements is limited +to those actually existing, the proportion in which the elements may be +distributed in the different nebulæ and solar systems, is apparently +very different. Suppose we had a full knowledge of the intrinsic nature +of the world-substance and were standing outside the universe observing +the process of world-formations; we could not from this knowledge alone +predict all that would happen. We should on our assumption be able to +predict _a priori_ that such elements would be formed. But whether the +different elements would be generated in these or in other proportions +appears to depend upon the presence of certain conditions, perhaps the +rapidity of motion, the heat produced by friction, the temperature of +the surrounding cosmic space, any knowledge of which is not included in +our knowledge of the nature of the world-substance. These conditions +may vary, nay, so far as we can judge they actually do vary; and any +apparently slight variation of them, or even one of them, will result in +different effects of great consequence. Without a detailed knowledge of +all these special conditions, simply from a supposed _a priori_ knowledge +of the world-substance, the idiosyncrasy of this or that particular +solar system could not be _a priori_ determined. Here it will be such, +and there, under perhaps slightly different circumstances, it will be +entirely other. Here the centre of gravity may be in one great mass, +there again it may be divided in two, so that the planets circle around +two suns. + +From this point of view we have to call these results products of chance. + +To a being who not only might be supposed to know the intrinsic nature +of existence, but could have present before his mind every event of the +great interacting cosmos in its entire complexity, this kind of chance +would, of course, also disappear. To him all states of things would +appear throughout as _eindeutig bestimmt_. Yet, although in this way +necessity permeates all events that take place, we do not intend to deny +the irregularity of detail,[14] the specificalness of the particulars, +the diversity of individual incidents and existences. According to our +conception of nature they must remain, and we need not attribute them +to absolute chance. To attribute irregularities to absolute chance (as +Mr. Peirce does) is actually an abandonment of explaining them. The +specificalness and particularity of nature can be said to be due to +chance in so far only as they do not depend upon and are not determinable +by the nature of the things under consideration, but result (with strict +necessity of course) from the ever-changing conformations of surrounding +circumstances. + +Thus the fate of a man depends mainly upon his character,—the proverb +says, “Every man is the architect of his own fortune”—but not entirely. +There are sometimes coincidences determining the fates of men, and +through them the fates of whole nations. And these coincidences do not +result from their character. + +Let everybody think of his own fate. Part of his life has been what it +was because he is such a man as he is; and we can, within certain limits, +predict the fate of a youth with whose character we are familiar. But how +much of our lives depends upon circumstances which could be foreseen only +by an omniscient being, and which, as we might properly say, if we do not +misunderstand the term, is due to chance! + + +FREE WILL. + +Compulsion is generally considered as a synonym of necessity. But the +usage of the term necessity in the sense of compulsion is, in our +opinion, very inappropriate, because misleading. Necessity and compulsion +should not be confounded; for compulsion excludes free will and +“necessity” does not. + +A government compels its citizens to obey certain unpopular laws; the +victorious army compels the enemy to surrender. The obedience of the +citizens and the surrender of the enemy are acts done under compulsion; +they are not acts of free will. But a man of a certain character wills, +under given circumstances and in the absence of compulsion, _necessarily_ +in the way in which he does. The determination of a free will is not a +matter of chance but of necessity. Yet the determining factors are not +outside but inside; they are not due to compulsion, not to the pressure +of a foreign power, but to the nature of the willing being himself. + +This, then, is the definition of “free”: A being is free if it is +unrestrained, so that it acts according to its own nature. As is its +nature, so it wills; as it wills, so it acts. If we know the character +of a man and the situation in which he is placed, we can predict his +choice as the necessary result of his nature. His decision, although it +is free and not under compulsion, is not an outcome of chance which might +under the same conditions be different, but is the inevitable result of +necessity. + +If by free will we had to understand that the decisions of the will +are the result either of chance or of absolute chance, the foremost +duty of the educator would be to make man unfree, to insert certain +dominant ideas into his mind, destined to determine his will. The free +man according to this definition of free will as being due to chance, +would be a person whose actions are more whimsical than the fancies of +lunatics. We reject this conception of the freedom of the will. + +In our opinion a will is free if it is unrestrained so that it can act +according to its nature. Our conception of free will does not stand in +contradiction to the doctrine of “determinism” as defined by the “Century +Dictionary” in its second sense: + + “In general, the doctrine that whatever is or happens is + entirely determined by antecedent causes.” + + +THE MECHANICAL PHILOSOPHY. + +We distinguish between (1) mechanical, (2) physical, (3) chemical, (4) +physiological, and (5) psychical events. + +A mechanical phenomenon is a change of place which does not involve a +change of the constitution of the parts moved. E. g., a stone is pushed; +its position is altered, but the stone remains the same. + +A physical phenomenon is an event in which the molecular state of the +bodies in action is altered. Water heated becomes steam, frozen it +becomes ice. The three states have different molecular configurations. + +Chemical phenomena are such in which the constitution of the atoms is +altered. The characteristic qualities of hydrogen, for example, are +different when combined with different elements or when isolated. Each +combination is a peculiar substance with peculiar qualities and not a +mixture or combination of the qualities of the isolated elements. + +Physiological processes are all those changes that take place in the +living irritable substance of plants and animals, such as nutrition, +growth, and propagation. Its characteristic features are (1) hunger or +thirst, i. e. the want of certain materials (food), (2) the reception of +the wanted materials by suction or other means, which in some cases are +a quite mechanical or physical process, not unlike the afflux of oxygen +caused by a burning candle or the suction of water by a sponge, and (3) +the assimilation of food. The materials received are distributed in the +places wanted, thus adding to the building up of the living substance +according to the nature of its structure. This produces as a natural +result (4) the phenomenon of growth with a preservation of form. (5) +Propagation is a special kind of growth; it is the growth of a part that +at some stage of its development becomes an independent individual. + +Psychical phenomena are such in which feelings and the meanings of +feelings are the determinant factors. + +It is apparent that all these terms, mechanical, physical, chemical, +physiological, and psychical, are mere abstracts. In describing a +mechanical phenomenon, we limit our attention to the mechanical change. +We do not mean to say that the body moved does not possess chemical, +physical, perhaps physiological, or even psychical qualities. The +calculation of the curve of a jump is a mechanical problem, although the +jumping body may be a human being. However, the question why did the man +jump, is a psychical question. The motive of the jump is an idea in that +class of mental activity characterised as purpose. The man had an end in +view. And this idea of an end to be realised is the combined result of +special conditions and of the character of the man. + +The different spheres of mechanical, physical, chemical, physiological, +and psychical actions being abstractions, it is obvious that science when +dealing with so-called purely mechanical phenomena, has to do with a +fiction. There are no purely mechanical phenomena. There are features of +reality which are purely mechanical; and these we call motions. But the +world does not consist of motions only. It also possesses other qualities. + +The mechanical philosopher assumes that the world consists of matter +and motion only, and so he feels warranted in the hope that every event +that takes place, the actions of man included, can be explained by the +laws of motion. Yet the premiss is wrong, and we may anticipate that the +conclusion also will prove erroneous. And so it is. + +The laws of motion are applicable to and will explain all motions; but +they are not applicable to that which is not motion. + +It is inconceivable how we can hope to explain a feeling by the laws of +motion; and so the fond hope of explaining the problems of the nature of +the soul by mechanics is preposterous. No objection can be made to the +possibility of explaining the delicate motions in the nervous substance +of the brain by the laws of molar or molecular mechanics. But these +explanations would throw no light upon the causation that takes place +in the mind. The properly psychical phenomena, the properly intelligent +action of thought, could not be explained in this way. For the world of +mentality introduces quite a new factor into the sphere of being. + +What is this new factor? + +The nature of mental activity consists in the symbolism of feelings. +Feelings, being different under different conditions and the same under +same conditions, become representative of their corresponding causes, and +thus the objects of experience are depicted in feeling symbols. + +Representativeness, accordingly, is the nature of mind. + +The question, How certain brain-structures operate, is a question of +the mechanics of nervous substance, and further, the question, How +thought-operations take place, is a question, so to say, of logical +mechanics. But the question, Why a certain idea responds to certain +stimuli and not to others, does not admit of a mechanical explanation or +formulation. The answer to this question will be a description of the +nature of the idea; and the nature of the idea is not a motion: it is the +meaning of which the idea is possessed. + +The action of a mind depends upon the meaning of certain symbols. A +written or spoken word has a special meaning, and this meaning becomes +the determinant factor of mind action. The meaning of a word is not a +piece of matter, neither is it a motion. It is something _sui generis_. +I do not say that there is any inexplicable mystery connected with it. +On the contrary, wonderful as the fact is, it is not mysterious; it does +not stand in contradiction to any other fact of nature. Symbols stand for +something; they indicate, denote, or signify something. This significance +is called their meaning; and mind is a system of symbols in states of +awareness. + +Now, neither states of awareness are mechanical, nor is the meaning of +words anything mechanical. How can we hope for a mechanical explanation +either of the soul or the mind or of any mental action? + +Suppose, for instance, a general receives a message containing a few +words. He opens the paper, he reads it, and all on a sudden, his mind is +in a tumult of excitement. What is it that produces the excitement? Is it +any motion? Yes! In a certain sense, it is a motion: it is the reading +of the paper. This is the cause. Yet not the reading as such excites his +consternation. He might read other messages all the day long without any +such an effect. Plainly, the causative element of the cause is not the +reading, not the motions of which the reading consists, not the shape of +the written characters and their combinations in groups, called words. It +is something more subtle even than that. It is the significance of the +writing. It is the meaning of the written characters. It is the purport +that is attached to the word-symbols. + +The origin of mind accordingly introduces a factor which has nothing +to do with mechanics; and the simplest psychical reflexes, including +those physiological reflexes which we must suppose to have originated by +conscious adaptation and then been submerged into unconsciousness, cannot +be explained from mechanical or physical laws alone. + + +SPONTANEITY. + +While we thus reject the conception of the mechanical philosophy and also +of materialism, we do not say that there are motions either in the brain +or anywhere else which form exceptions to the laws of mechanics. The +laws of mechanics hold good for all motions. The laws of mechanics are +formal laws: they do not explain why bodies gravitate; but they describe +how they gravitate; and the latter is much more useful to know than the +former. There is (as we conceive it) no deep secret in the problem why +bodies gravitate; they gravitate because they possess a quality which +attracts them to each other with a force directly as their masses and +inversely as the squares of their distances. In a word, gravity is the +intrinsic nature of masses, it is an inalienable part of their existence. +Thus whenever bodies gravitate, we are confronted with an act of +spontaneity. + +Attempts have been made to explain gravitation without the assumption +of spontaneity, by the pressure of an atom-surrounding ether. But that +only defers the question; for the spontaneity, in that case, would have +to be placed in the ether. Whatever be the merits of the explanations +of gravitation by a _vis a tergo_, we must recognise the fact that no +motion can take place in the world, no pressure can be exercised, without +there being somewhere some spontaneous something that moves or presses. +Spontaneity is a universal feature of nature. + +Mr. Peirce uses the term “spontaneity” in a different sense from ours. +He identifies spontaneity with absolute chance. He means by it the +irregularities that arise without cause, thus producing departures +from law. We call that action spontaneous which is not due to external +influence but springs from the nature of the things in action. + +Spontaneous is derived from the Latin _spons_, “will,” which as a noun +was obsolete at the classical period of Roman literature and occurred +only in such forms as _sponte_, “of one’s own will, of one’s own accord.” +If a man acts of his own will, free from and not biassed by the influence +of other men, his action is spontaneous. A free man’s action is not +arbitrary, unless arbitrariness[15] be the character of the man; it is +not an exception to law; it is, if the character of the man is known, +calculable in advance, for every free action is spontaneous: it springs +immediately from the character of the man; it is the direct expression of +his will; it reveals the nature of his very being, thus showing the man +himself, and not something beyond or outside of him. + +Taking the word spontaneity in this sense, we say: Masses gravitate +spontaneously; they are self-moving; their motion is due to their +gravity, and gravity is their intrinsic nature. + +Exactly as the laws of mechanics explain the “how” of motions but not +why there is motion at all, the “why” depending upon the nature of +each moving body, so the “how” of the brain-motions is explicable by +mechanical laws, but the “why” depends upon the nature of the moving +material. The brain-atoms are possessed of the same spontaneity as the +atoms of a gravitating stone. Yet there is present an additional feature; +there are present states of awareness, and these states of awareness +possess meaning, both of which are items which the chemist cannot find +by chemical analysis. Neither states of awareness nor their meanings +can be weighed on any scales, be they ever so delicate, nor are they +determinable in foot-pounds. + +Yet while mechanics is not applicable to mental facts, the realm of +mentality is by no means to be surrendered to indeterminism. Mr. Peirce +describes the domain of mind as the absence of law and the prevalence of +absolute chance, of an indetermined and indeterminable sporting. This is +not so. While the fact must be recognised that the nature of the mind +is not something mechanical, its action is nevertheless determined by +laws—not by mechanical laws, but by psychical and mental laws. These +psychical and mental laws are in one respect of exactly the same nature +as mechanical laws; they describe the samenesses of certain facts of +reality. And the facts of the ideal domain of thought, the facts of +subjectivity, are no less real than the grosser facts of mechanical +motion, which are the facts of objectivity. + +The term mechanical is often used in the sense of “lacking life or +spirit” (“Century Dictionary,” p. 3679). This is justifiable in so far +only as when we speak of mechanical phenomena we do not mean psychical +or any other phenomena. It is true that that which makes this or that +idea respond to a certain stimulus is not a mechanical but a mental +quality, but the action itself, in so far as it is a motion, is and +remains mechanical. Thus it happens that the laws of mechanics, far from +being anti-spiritual, are the means by which we learn to understand and +objectively to represent the action of mental phenomena. + +In this connection attention may be called to the efforts of modern +logicians to construct thinking machines which will perform the work of +mental operations in a purely mechanical way. You propose the problem by +adjusting certain indicators; then you turn the crank, and the machine +does the rest. The results will come out with unfailing exactness. + +The attempt made to construct thinking machines cannot as yet be called +successful. Nevertheless they are not impossibilities. Calculating +machines of various constructions are in practical use and doing +satisfactory work, not only in addition and subtraction but also in +multiplication and division, and even in extracting roots and in raising +numbers to higher powers. Calculations are undoubtedly one kind of +thought, and if calculations can be performed by machines, there is +no theoretical reason why we should not be able to construct logical +machines, which shall perform the operations of deductive and even of +inductive thought with perfect accuracy. + + +CONCLUSION. + +Determinism does not make freedom impossible and natural laws do not +suppress the spontaneity of nature. + +Natural laws are not a power forcing a certain mode of action upon +things; they are not an oppression of nature. Natural laws are simply a +description of nature as nature is. There is no “must” in nature in the +sense of compulsion, as if there were two things, (1) a master (i. e. the +law) giving a command, and (2) a slave (i. e. the single facts) obeying +the command. The situation is not dualistic, but monistic. There is an +“is” in nature, and this “is” is constant. There is a certain sameness in +nature. In spite of all changes it remains the same; and thus even the +apparent irregularities preserve throughout an unvarying consistency. The +facts of nature express the character of nature; they are nature herself. +Briefly, the “is” of nature (if we are permitted to personify her) does +not describe that which nature must do, but that which nature wills to +do; it describes how she acts spontaneously, of her own free will, in +conformity with her innermost being and consistently with her permanent +character. + +The main difference that obtains between the actions of inanimate +nature so-called and rational beings is not the absence and presence of +spontaneity, (for spontaneity is in both,) but the absence and presence +of mind: and mind is not only the subjectivity of existence; mind is +not merely sentiency, i. e. the awareness of feelings; mind is the +representative symbolism of subjectivity. + +There are sufficient reasons to assume that all objective existence, +which appears to us as matter in motion, possesses a subjectivity, the +nature of which depends upon the mode of the interaction of its elements. +This subjectivity appears in organised substance as feeling and develops +naturally into mind. + +The essence of nature, accordingly, is not materiality, but spirituality. +Materiality is the character of nature as it affects sentient beings; but +its innermost self, as it were, its subjectivity, its psychical aspect is +revealed in the appearance of the spirit-life of rational beings—of minds. + +While we fully recognise the spirituality of nature as nature’s +innermost essence and as an ineradicable feature of reality, we cannot +with Mr. Peirce place mind at the beginning of the world. There is a +great difference between spirituality and mind. One is the source and +condition of the other. One is permanent, the other is transient. One +is the abstract view of a universal quality of the world, eternal and +everlasting, as much indestructible as matter and energy; the other is an +individual formation that originates, grows, and develops; that can be +broken and built again; that dies with the body and rises again in new +generations; that decays, as the foliage of the trees falls in winter, +yet reappears, as the verdure reappears in spring; for the life of nature +is immortal. + +Mr. Peirce, regarding determinism as that view which does not recognise +the freedom of will, has an original and in our conception a wrong +view on the one hand of natural laws, which are to him mere habits +acquired by the world, and on the other hand of chance, or arbitrary +sportiveness, (i. e. that which is not determinable by law,) which he +identifies with mind and with the spontaneity of freedom. Mind is to +him the beginning of all. Mind remains mind, according to his view, so +long as it is irregular, producing out of its own undetermined being +sporadic effects without order or consistency. As soon as mind takes to +habits, it grows mechanical; by creating regularity it disappears; and +the result is matter in motion according to mechanical laws. Matter, +accordingly, is said to be “effete mind.” Law in our view is the divinity +of nature; according to Mr. Peirce it is the termination of nature’s +irregularities: it comes to suppress her freedom and to supplant her +mentality by mechanicalism. An element of pure chance, however, survives, +which, appears in the free will of man, in miracles, and in nature’s +irregularities, and this element of pure chance will remain until in the +infinitely distant future, mind becomes crystallised into an absolutely +perfect, rational, and symmetrical system. Such is in brief Mr. Peirce’s +view of the rôle played by mind in the world-process. + +Mr. Peirce’s views of chance and law seem to come to the rescue of +certain theological dogmas, which represent the world-order as the +product of a divine mind. We doubt very much whether Mr. Peirce’s +position be tenable even from the standpoint of the scientific +theologian. For the order of the world, as it appears in natural laws, +must be, and is recognised even by the theist, as part and parcel +of God’s eternal being. The scientist who formulates _sub specie +aeternitatis_ certain facts of nature, say the “how” of gravitating +bodies, describes a certain quality of God himself; he describes +something that is immutable, eternal, everlasting; it is not the whole of +God, but it is certainly one feature of Jahveh, of that which is, was, +and will be as it is. + +In contradistinction to Mr. Peirce, we recognise, that the regularity +of the whole is preserved in the specificalness of its individual +particulars, that there are samenesses in this world of changes and +diversities, and that if all reality is regarded as being essentially +the same throughout, all the diversities and apparent irregularities can +very well be explained as resulting from peculiar forms, combinations, +and relations. Furthermore, we recognise that natural laws are compatible +with the spontaneity of nature and that the necessity with which a free +man acts according to his character, does not reverse his freedom of will. + +Nature is self-acting throughout; nature is free; even inanimate nature +is spontaneous. But a higher freedom rises with the appearance of mind. +And there are degrees of this higher freedom which can be determined +with great exactness, for they correspond to the range of the mentality +of each creature. Mentality develops by the observation of samenesses, +and it reaches rationality by the recognition of natural laws. The +recognition of natural laws is a view of some natural phenomena in their +eternal aspect, and we call them truths. So much is natural law and +freedom interconnected that the recognition of natural laws widens the +range of freedom; and obedience to them raises man out of his dependence +upon his surroundings to a state of dominion over the creation in which +he becomes the master of natural forces. + +What a deep significance lies in the saying of the apostle: “The truth +shall make you free!” + + EDITOR. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[10] The adjective “like” is an abbreviation of “alike”; and “a-like” +(M.E. _alyke_, A.S. _gelic_, O.H.G. _galih_, M.H.G. _gelich_, M.G. +_gleich_) is a compound of the prefix a with _lic_ body, shape, figure. + +[11] I am satisfied that logical identity is intended to mean sameness. I +suppose that the word identity, being Latin and a kind of international +term, appeared to logicians preferable to the Saxon word “sameness” or +the German “Gleichheit.” We need not look for any deeper reason for the +adoption of the term. + +[12] Knowing that Mr. Peirce is one of the most prominent contributors to +the _Century Dictionary_, I may be pardoned for surmising that, perhaps +with the exception of the parenthesised word “(supposed)” he is the +author of this passage and very likely of most of the other quotations of +philosophical terms we have adduced from the same source. + +[13] _Die Principien der Wahrscheinlichkeitsrechnung_ by Johannes von +Kries. See also Meinong’s review of the book (in _Gött. gel Anz._, +No. 2, p. 56 et seqq.) and Ad. Nitsche’s article on the subject (in +_Vierteljahrsschrift für wiss. Phil._ of 1892. XVI. 1, p. 26). + +[14] By irregularity of detail we understand simply a lack of uniformity, +but not exceptions to law. If irregularity be defined as exception to +law, we should say, There is no irregularity in the world, while at the +same time nothing is uniform: for every particle of the world is in +its time and space relations and otherwise different from every other +particle. + +[15] Arbitrary, as used here, means capricious, uncertain, unreasonable. +A man’s action is capricious if he is biassed by the present motive +alone, without considering other motives which he would have under other +circumstances. A deliberate man equalises, as it were, his actions by +forming rules of conduct. An arbitrary man does not recognise rules or +laws, made either by himself or by others. + + + + +LITERARY CORRESPONDENCE + + + + +I. + +RECENT EVOLUTIONARY STUDIES IN GERMANY. + + +Since Darwin’s death, his theory, which in Germany more than elsewhere +received its development, has but few decisive steps in advance to +point to, even though the circle of its adherents has been enlarged and +though in many respects and in special directions it has been rendered +more complete and placed upon a firmer foundation. It is a gratifying +fact, that most, if not all, of the recent discoveries in zoology, +palæontology, and particularly in developmental history, are easily and +completely reconcilable with the principles originally established; so +that the views which we have reached on this subject have lost more and +more the characters of a purely hypothetical fabric. + +But the accurate investigations of developmental history have +unquestionably furnished the most important material in proof of the +theory in question, and the principles established in this department, +in the main the results of the labors of German investigators (E. von +Baer, Fritz Müller, E. Haeckel), have been verified in a truly surprising +manner. + +It is true that Darwin himself in no way undervalued the importance +of the results of the studies in question, but how little the facts +known at the time of the enunciation of his theory of natural selection +sufficed, is most clearly proved by the fact that E. von Baer and Louis +Agassiz, who at that time were perhaps the greatest authorities in +embryology, assumed a hostile attitude towards the new Darwinian theory. +Agassiz’s combination of the points of agreement of palæontology and +embryology, his explanation of extinct forms as “prophetic types,” proved +a veritable hindrance to the perception of the truth, and Carl Vogt, who +was his co-worker at that time, appears to have been the last to set +up any opposition to the “fundamental biogenetic principle,” that the +development of the individual repeats in an abbreviated form the history +of his race. Vogt, formerly the champion of advanced views, appears +to-day as the leader of the small band of the opposition. + +If we compare the recently published fourth edition of Haeckel’s +_Anthropogeny_, 1891, and the eighth edition of his _History of +Creation_, with the early editions, we cannot help remarking, with +considerable astonishment, despite the enormous increase of fresh +material, the fact that little in the old plans and principles of the +work needs correction. Even the bold generalisations, the inference +as to the identity of form of the original beginnings of all of the +middle or higher classes of animals, the “Gastræa Theory” of Haeckel, +at first so violently opposed, the stress laid upon the equivalence of +the blastoderms in the various orders of animals, nay, even many of +the animal genealogies, really only asserted as a working hypothesis, +have stood the test beyond all expectation; although Du Bois-Reymond +insinuated that the pedigrees of the heroes of Homer were more worthy +of credit. To appreciate the complete victory of these ideas one need +but refer to the discourse _On Recapitulation in Embryology_ with which +A. Milnes Marshall opened the meeting of the Biological Section of the +British Natural History Society at Leeds, September, 1890. + +The very conspicuous irregularities in the formation of organised bodies, +which formerly were regarded as monstrosities, or as the freaks and +riddles of the formative instinct, the hare-lips, the cleft palates, +cases of microcephaly, etc., or the conspicuous want of symmetry in the +physical structure of the plaice and sole, formerly made use of by Mivart +and Schimper as unassailable counterproofs of Darwin’s doctrines, have +shaped themselves into the most decisive verifications of his theory; +as in fact, generally, a number of the most splendid evidences of the +correctness of the theory have, as the result of exact investigations +in organic evolution, proceeded from the most obstinate of its supposed +difficulties. Thus, for example, as proof that birds are far removed +from the other classes of vertebrates, the circumstance had been cited +that certain parts connected with the visual organs are in them situated +at the side of the brain, instead of on the dorsal surface, as is the +case with the other vertebrates. But a more exact observation has shown +that this variation in formation is a secondary result, since in each +previous period of development these same organs in the young birds +lie, exactly as in the case of the other vertebrates, on the dorsal +surface, and only shortly before leaving the egg do they move downward +to the sides. In many cases where the development of parts preservable +in fossil conditions is under consideration, as for instance portions of +the skeleton, the hard integuments, and the teeth, a direct proof may, by +comparison, be furnished of the truth of the fact of the correspondence +of the embryological formations of living animals with the final and +permanent forms of their extinct representatives, a fact which was indeed +acknowledged by Agassiz and Vogt, but completely misunderstood. We need +only to recall to mind the exact parallelism which Alexander Agassiz and +Neumayer have demonstrated to exist in the case of echinoderms, Huxley, +Marsh, and others in the formation of the wings of birds, the pelvis of +birds, or the hoofs of horses, in order to stamp this view as one that +cannot be refuted. + +Nevertheless, those opposed to this view, as Carl Vogt, His, Heufen, +and others, have not abandoned their position as a hopeless one, +and in recent years have relied particularly upon those cases which +Haeckel, and before him, Fritz Müller, characterised as a falsification +(cenogenesis[16]) or a supplementary alteration and abbreviation of the +natural process of development. “Nature is no falsifier,” these opponents +proclaim with emphasis, and everything it does is correct and true, and +“this false heart alone brings untruth and deceit into the true heaven,” +they cry with Wallenstein. People who rely on verbal sophistries merely +betray thereby their want of valid counter-arguments. A _mala fides_ +on the part of nature can of course never be the subject of discussion +among reasonable beings, but a deviation in the process of development +of certain varieties from the typical path of the development of the +remaining varieties of the species, is _felt_ as a falsification by +every investigator who has thoroughly studied the regular processes, +for the reason that it has a tendency to _obscure_ the original facts. +Thus, for example, in the embryos of certain vertebrates the æsophagus +is temporarily completely closed, as Balfour has observed in young +sharks, Bles and Marshall in frogs; and this state of affairs may well +be considered as a falsification, since an animate being with a closed +æsophagus is a natural contradiction, which can never have existed and +here happens as a supplementary and temporary process. + +As a rule such deviations from the normal course may be classified as +consequences of a prolonged residence of the animal germs in the egg +or in the womb, the result of which is that owing to the presence of +an abundant quantity of nourishing yolk, or through direct connection +with the circulatory system of the mother, they in the early stages of +their development are relieved of the necessity of acquiring nourishment +through their own efforts, and therefore all the contrivances necessary +to that purpose may be dispensed with. For this reason we find the +primitive processes of development, as Professor Sollas has lately shown, +most frequently preserved in marine animals which have never changed nor +abandoned their element in the course of the history of their species, +in the case of which, therefore, no occasion could ever have arisen +for supplementary changes in the process of their development. Much +more frequently do we meet with this change in the case of fresh-water +animals, for often the rapid currents of their elements, for example a +river, will not suffer these to leave the egg in any very helpless larval +condition, and in addition fresh water is subject to other unfavorable +changes, as the drying up of streams. Also the larvæ of carnivorous +animals, which from the very beginning of independent life need more +strength to acquire their means of existence, are so completely developed +in the richly provisioned eggs in which they take their form, that they +emerge therefrom in an almost perfected state of being, as, for example, +young sharks and cephalopods. In this kind of animal life, as well as in +the case of forms which are brought forth alive from the parent, although +they see the light of day much later, comparatively, there takes place +not only a great abbreviation of the first stages of existence in the +entering upon a more direct path of development, but also changes occur +in the form of the original designs because of the limitation of room +due to the presence of yolk in the egg, the reason for which is easy +to perceive. In many other cases the mechanical cause of the change in +development can be directly recognised; for example, in the case of, the +tree-toad of the Antilles (_Hylodes marticinensis_), which, owing to the +absence of pools lasting through the dry season, is obliged of necessity +to remain in the egg during its tadpole stage, that is to say, to skip +this stage, as it were; for which reason the formation of external gills +in its case is entirely omitted. + +The explanation of the origin of new organs seemed at first to afford +an insuperable difficulty to the Darwinian theory, since, as Mivart +objected, it was not possible to perceive how natural selection could +be able to effect the formation of new organs unless they executed +corresponding functions from the very beginning. This difficulty, +however, has been completely overcome by the theory of altered +functions (_Functionswechsel_) which was first proposed by Dorhn, and +particularly in recent years by Kleinenberg. According to this theory, +in all these cases we have simply to deal with a gradual change in form +of already existing organs, which, originally being used to perform +one set of functions, are modified so as to perform another. Thus the +later developed organs of mastication and the feelers of insects were +originally organs of locomotion, legs; and these in the still earlier +stages of creeping motion performed appropriate functions as the +crooked appendages of the body-rings. The wings of birds were, in their +progenitors, forelegs; the tongue of air-breathing vertebrates originated +from the fish-bladder, which before that was chiefly an organ of swimming. + +The knowledge thus acquired of the natural connection of the processes +of evolution also explains, according to Kleinenberg, why organs which +are at present completely useless, must yet necessarily appear in the +formation of the embryo; for example, the gill-openings in the higher +classes of vertebrates, which have no functions to perform at any stage +of vertebral development, and which furnished Meckel the first intimation +of the fundamental biogenetic law. But as soon as it was explained +that the gill-openings furnished the foundation of the development of +later-appearing organs with actual functions to perform, it was rendered +clear why they should continually recur; namely, because they form the +indispensable links of a chain which extends from the dim past of the +type in question down to the present time. + +There is no doubt that profounder researches in evolutionary history will +furnish still more important results: for instance, the more perfect +elucidation of the pedigree of mammals; for in this province even our +domestic animals are not sufficiently investigated. Every new effort in +this direction, for example the recent work of Klever on the evolution +of the teeth of the horse, and other investigations concerning the +formation of special organs, has invariably shown that much in this field +yet remains to be discovered. We have only to recall to mind the recent +investigations relating to the development of the pineal gland, which +in the last decennium have also led to the discovery of a rudimentary +occipital eye, which seems to have actually existed and performed +functions in numerous early representatives of the vertebrates, but +to-day is simply a fact of history, and has given rise to an organ which +Descartes considered as the seat of the soul. We may here also refer to +the recent investigations concerning the earlier developmental stages of +the duckbills, which have completely confirmed what the theory asserted +in advance and required; namely, that they fill the vacancy between the +egg-laying reptiles and the mammalia which bring forth their young alive. + +Only a few years ago Carl Vogt vehemently opposed the opinion of +the duckbills being transitional types, and sought to explain their +inferior stage of organisation, which is also evidenced in their low +blood temperature, as the results of a stunting process (degeneration, +so called). They formed a degenerated branch of marsupials, nothing +more. Later, the remarkable yet long anticipated fact was revealed by +Haacke and Caldwell, 1884, that the duckbills are egg-laying mammals, +a character which certainly could not have been acquired through +degeneration, but which simply shows that they are closely related to +extinct reptilian forms. In one other respect, namely, with regard +to their supply of teeth, the process of degeneration must indeed be +admitted. On this point, Poulton and Thomas discovered a few years +ago that in their early stages they really do possess true teeth, +which, however, just as in the case of certain carnivorous cetacea, +later completely disappear, and are replaced by a sort of horny teeth. +This, however, is really not a true degeneration, but rather a special +adaptation, doubtless beneficial to the animal in some way or other; +and with as little reason as we may regard birds as a degenerated +race in comparison with their progenitors, because they have lost +the numerous teeth which these possessed, with just as little reason +can we hold that the duckbills, in their general organisation, have +suffered any retrogression worth mentioning. On the contrary, the +recent investigations of Marsh and Lemoine concerning the mammals of +the Jurassic and Cretaceous periods point more and more distinctly to +the conclusion, that there existed among these mammals a very large +number which possessed the same degree of organisation as the duckbills +of to-day, now represented by only a few species; a supposition which +the adherents of the theory of evolution made twenty-five years ago. I +do not know that the pedigrees of the heroes of Homer have been so well +preserved! + +In many other directions, however, speculation of late years in Germany +has considerably digressed from the facts of experience and from all +probability; especially with reference to the questions of propagation, +variation, and heredity. Here, first of all, are to be mentioned the +works of Weismann, _Ueber die Continuität des Keimplasmas_ (1885), +_Die Bedeutung der sexuellen Fortpflanzung für die Selectionstheorie_ +(1886), _Der Rückschritt in der Natur_ (1886), _Die Bedeutung der +Richtungskörperchen für die Vererbungstheorie_ (1887), _Die Hypothese der +Vererbung von Verletzungen_ (1889), and _Ueber Amphimixis_ (1891). + +If we revert to the beginnings of this movement we shall find that it +is intimately connected with the more exact study of the processes of +fecundation as perfected through the researches of Strassburger, the +Hertwigs, and other investigators. In connection with the ideas of +Nägeli concerning the so-called idioplasm, the notion was reached that +the matter determinative of heredity was contained in the nucleoli, and +that by the union of the paternal and maternal nucleoli the sum-total of +the parental hereditary tendencies is transmitted to the offspring. This +view was to a certain degree verified by the experiments of the brothers +Hertwig in removing the nucleoli of the eggs of the sea-urchin; the +result being that eggs containing the nucleoli alone, furnished, through +artificial impregnation, results resembling the female parent, whereas +eggs from which the nucleoli had been removed, furnished germs completely +corresponding to the traits of the male parent. + +Other processes of fecundation, to which we shall soon recur, had since +1876 produced the impression in the minds of a number of naturalists that +the germ-material led an independent life in the bodies of organisms, +that it possessed only an internal development, and required from the +body nothing but nourishment in order to multiply itself, and to develop +its internal powers uninfluenced by the various vicissitudes of the +body. In the year 1876 Gustav Jaeger in Germany, and Francis Galton, a +cousin of Darwin, almost at the same time in England, called attention +to the observation made some time previously, that in certain animals, +particularly in insects, the development of the egg into the young +offspring begins with the withdrawal of a small portion of the germ from +the component substance of the embryo, which remains at first unchanged +and only later multiplies. This observation was generalised and accepted. +At the commencement of every sexual multiplication the germ-substance, +after impregnation, is divided into two parts, according to its future +purpose; an ontogenetic or personal part, out of which the body is built +up, and a phylogenetic or germinal part, which at first is stored up +unused in the individual, but later furnishes new germ-cells. This idea +led Weismann to his view of the continuity of the germ-plasm, which forms +an unbroken line of descent from the first beginnings of the species and +which is simply nourished by the organisms in which it has its temporary +abode. From this germ-plasm spring _secondarily_ the cells that go to +make up the body (soma); but from these soma-cells no new _germ_-cells +can originate, and consequently none of its inherent or adscititious +qualities are capable of transmission. The somatic cells make up the +mortal and perishable forms of life, while the germ-cells alone insure +the further existence and immortality of the race. + +It is easy to perceive that these views, if they could be maintained, +would completely transform the Darwinian theory. Since, if the somatic +cells, that is, the body-parts of animals and plants, with all their +adaptations to soil and climate, to definite modes of life, etc., are +to be deprived of every power to transmit hereditary characters, then +the so-called Lamarckian theory, which should really bear the name of +Erasmus Darwin, would be deprived of every foundation which it possesses. +Neither the increase in strength of the members of the body, acquired +by use and practice, nor their weakness created by their non-use could +be inherited; and in just as small a degree could changes caused by +external influences, bodily injuries, sickness, entail consequences which +were inheritable. This being the case, then also all those views would +be untenable which seek to explain the important effects of time as the +result of the accumulation and augmentation of the minute impressions of +the external environment. If the variations which are generated by means +of external influences are not capable of transmission, then the direct +adaptation must commence at the beginning in the case of every following +generation; an accumulation is impossible. + +We can observe, however, in every particular case, the complete harmony +in which every living being exists with its surroundings and mode of +life; and observe in closely related species the most various adaptations +to the elements in which they live: climate, food, nay, even to the +particular companions with which they associate; with the result that +many plants have shaped the structure of their flowers to conform to +the physical anatomy of the insect which ordinarily effects their +fertilisation, and that animals assume the figure and form of some +associate who is safe from hostile assaults, or even completely adopt +different modes of life where it is necessary to enter a life-partnership +with a strange animal or plant. But, granting that the most widely +extended capability of adaptation is a thing of daily experience, there +still arises the question how we shall explain this quality, which can +only be brought about by slow degrees, without taking into account the +factor of heredity in the transmission of acquired qualities. The theory +of Weismann attempts this, in that it takes for granted an infinite +variability in the germ-formative materials, and guides the new forms and +variations thus begotten into the really true path, that is, into the +most successful paths, through the process of natural selection (that +is, through the survival of the fittest as regards environment and all +other things). According to this doctrine, external circumstances have +no direct influence whatever upon the variation of species, as Erasmus +Darwin, Lamarck, and the founder of the theory of natural selection and +all his followers up to that time supposed, but we have to have recourse +to a pure theory of natural selection, and call to our aid an, even +now, rather obscure phenomenon, occurring in connection with sexual +impregnation, which has been called “the expulsion of the polar bodies,” +an extrusion of minute qualities of germ-plasm from the germ-cells while +in union. By the processes of crossing, which continually recur, a vast +number of the most manifold hereditary tendencies are united in the +germ-material. Then certain of these are ejected, so that others acquire +supremacy; and in this manner the way is opened for the origination of a +vast number of possible combinations. In this way the path is clear to a +theory of perfect mechanical variability, in which the germ-material has +only to transmit the characters which spontaneously arise in it, and yet +affords an investigator endowed with any imagination the possibility of +understanding the origin of the great variety and final purpose of the +world. It is Frohschammer’s “principle of the imagination as the creator +of the world” translated into comprehensible formulæ. The simplicity +thus reached by the elimination of all direct influences from the +external world, has won the adherency of many investigators following in +Darwin’s steps, particularly in England; but whilst Wallace, Galton, Ray +Lankester, and others have expressed their full assent to it, other and +not less eminent authorities, as Herbert Spencer, Haeckel, Fritz Müller, +and Virchow, have emphatically rejected it. + +The reasons in favor of this assumption are, as is indeed the whole view +itself, mainly of a theoretical nature; the arguments of the opposition +are divided into philosophical and experiential propositions. The +philosophical opposition is mainly based on the fact that, from the very +beginning, there is assigned to the germ-material, as it unceasingly +continues its existence, an infinite variety of capacities which the +external world cannot affect, and that all progress and advancement takes +place as the result of the _loss_ of the originally endowed powers and +tendencies. On this theory a family of acrobats or race-horses would +not acquire their powers through the gradual augmentation by practice +of their feats of skill and endurance, but because these powers were +originally resident in them, and every factor incompatible with them +was gradually eliminated. On the other hand, these views approach in a +dangerous degree to the theories of predestination and preformation, +the overthrow of which has been justly regarded as one of the greatest +advances of science. + +Still more important must be considered the objections of empirical +science, which up to this time was completely convinced of the heredity +of acquired qualities. Popular experience, as well as that of physicians, +universally speaks of inherited disease-germs, and in certain cases, +particularly in mental diseases, physicians are so thoroughly convinced +of their inheritability that the first question put to the relatives of +such sufferers usually is whether the disease has ever appeared in the +parents or family of the patient. This fact is so deeply grounded in the +general belief, that the modern naturalistic school of novelists, the +school of Zola, Ibsen, and their associates, are wont to devote their +main efforts to the problem of inherited evils. Now the inheritability +of certain evil conditions, even though proved, would not by any means +be an absolute disproof of Weismann’s theory; for, inclined as much as +we may be to derive diseases from mistakes and sins against a natural +mode of life, such as colds, drunkenness, dissipation, mental and +bodily over-exertion, we yet cannot deny _a priori_ that blastogenic +diseases, or diseases originating in the germ-plasm, may exist, which +without any doubt would then be transmissible. It also does not lie +beyond the realms of possibility that congenital malformations, such as +hare-lips, supernumerary fingers, and the defects which show a remarkable +disposition to heredity, fall into this category. These blastogenic germs +of disease would then, of course, have to be distinguished from the +somatogenic diseases (or the diseases produced in the body by external +causes), which never could be inherited. + +From this point of view the question as to the hereditary consequences of +external injuries has given rise to great efforts to prove experimentally +the truth of this belief, which has existed for centuries. In almost +every part of the globe we meet with the assertion that hornless cattle, +such, for example, as are bred in South America, or the tailless cats of +the Isle of Man, or other domestic animals with similar deficiencies, +are descended from a progenitor which lost its horns or its tail through +disease or other mishap. Since now, recently, similar assertions have +again been put forward to the effect that tailless cats are found +among the descendants of feline progenitors who have been robbed of +their posterior ornaments by an act of violence, and these cases have +been discussed in connection with the pangenesis theory of Darwin, +according to which each part of the body is believed to supply material +contributions to the germ-plasm, Weismann determined to institute +experiments on this point. He started the breeding of white mice whose +tails were regularly cut off, without finding as a result, from among 840 +young ones derived from such mutilated progenitors, a single one having +a malformation or missing tail. However, even this experiment cannot +be regarded as an absolute proof, as it at first view might seem, and +the negative result was foreseen by the writer of these lines. It is a +clear conclusion that if in the case of many vertebrates, for example, +salamanders and lizards, as well as in the case of most invertebrates, +missing limbs and tails are renewed in the course of their lifetime, it +would indeed be very remarkable if their renewal should not take place, +at least in the case of the complete rejuvenation of new birth. + +Darwin himself had concluded, from his own experience and that of +others, that injuries and similar inflicted acts of violence are the +cause of hereditary consequences only in cases where they bring about +some long-continued and wasting disease, and thus produce some permanent +effect on the bodily constitution. For this reason, especially injuries +to main nerve-tracts in parts near the centres are readily accompanied +by hereditary consequences, because they interfere with the nutrition +of the members supplied by them. Brown-Séquard has observed in a great +number of cases of guinea pigs whose nerve-roots he had severed, that the +offspring of the animals operated upon developed diseases of the eyes, +ears, and other organs which conformed regularly to the character of the +operation, and could therefore be predicted; and also noted malformations +and deficiencies, amounting even to the complete disappearance of the +eye-balls, such as never arise or have been observed in these animals +without violent interference. His positive results regarding the +hereditability of the evil consequences of disturbing operations have +a decided advantage in numbers and scope over the negative results of +Weismann; and it is not clear how the belief in the non-hereditability of +somatic conditions will accommodate itself to them. + +But if conditions of the body produced by such sudden interferences +have under certain circumstances entailed hereditary consequences, +how much more should we expect this same result from slowly +effected constitutional changes, which external influences, working +uninterruptedly for hundreds of years, bring about in an organism which +has been transported into a new element, into new surroundings, or into +a different climate. Not at all infrequently does the coming together +and union of two new organisms beget hereditary changes which can be +explained only through the direct influence of the one upon the other. +Thus, for example, in the case of plants in hot countries which are +protected against the assaults of leaf-devouring ants by body-guards +of smaller ants, and also in species of quite different families, as, +for example, in _Cecropia_ of the order _Euphorbiaceæ_, and in some +_Triplaris_ species among the _Polygonaceæ_, we find little chambers, +approachable through small openings in the stems, which serve the +ants protecting the plants as dwelling and breeding places. Are we to +believe now, in regard to this fact, that these plants, so different +in their nature, have produced through voluntary variations the stems +which contain these openings, or are we to believe we have to deal here +with openings acquired through inheritance which originally were bored +in the stems by the ants at the most appropriate points? Surely the +first conclusion, which would uphold Weismann’s theory, has but a very +slight degree of probability in its favor, whilst the latter, which would +overthrow his view, is very highly probable. And such examples could be +cited in great numbers. + +It is also to be remembered that the power of variation is not exhibited +solely in sexually created individuals, as it should be according to +Weismann’s theory, but frequently also in non-sexual multiplication, +where no amphimixis (mingling) occurs. It is well known that the majority +of the sporting varieties of our trees, for example, _Fagus sanguinea_, +and the so-called weeping varieties, that is, abnormal varieties with +pendent twigs, forms with split, spotted, or white leaves, are wont first +to appear on single branches of old trees, in which the continuity of +the protoplasm unquestionably existed, but no amphimixis or extrusion of +the polar bodies took place. It is also the generally received opinion +of naturalists that the lowest classes of animal and plant life are +universally multiplied by non-sexual means. And if this is so, it is +not clear how higher forms which sexually propagate can be derived from +them, if the latter have originally to furnish the fundamental conditions +of variation. The adherents of Neo-Darwinism will, accordingly, have to +furnish many additional facts if they wish to invest their theory with +any degree of probability. + + CARUS STERNE. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[16] _Cenogenesis_, from κενός, empty, fruitless (and γένεσις, birth); +not from κοινός, common, the derivatives of which are sometimes written +“c_e_no.”—ED. + + + + +II. + +FRANCE. + + +The study of personality, from the point of view of pathological +psychology, has already supplied us with numerous books. M. ALFRED BINET, +in his fine work, _Les Altérations de la Personnalité_, has undertaken to +present systematically to us these alterations in their entirety, while +restricting himself to ascertained results, and avoiding disputed points. +He exhibits to us the “dismemberment of the ego” in diseased states, the +frequent rupture of that “unity of consciousness” which is the principal +attribute of the normal individual. + +Clinical observation has established the existence in certain subjects +of successive personalities, and in others that of co-existing +personalities; the experiences of suggestion have at last allowed of +analogous morbid phenomena being provoked, in such a manner that cases +may be varied and rendered still more instructive. The simple movements +provoked in normal persons in states of distraction, of which many very +curious examples may be found in M. Binet’s book, are the recognised +mark of a subconsciousness; but it is often possible, under the same +conditions and with the same processes, to provoke in a hypnotisable +hysteric individual an actual sub-personality, that is to say, to augment +the phenomena which attentive observers have long since remarked in +every-day life. + +It cannot be doubted that, on the one hand, it is possible to produce +in an insensible limb a great variety of subconscious actions, and all +sorts of reactions; and when they are recorded by the graphic method, it +is perceived that with the fingers of his insensible hand, the subject +has made movements the form of which varies according to the receiving +apparatus (the dynamograph, drum, pencil, etc.). These movements thus +exhibit the truly psychological marks of adaptation, and seem to reveal +the existence of an intelligence which is other than that of the ego of +the subject, and which acts without his assistance and even unknown to +him. + +On the other hand, numerous experiences of very different kinds show +that the subject whose anæsthetic arm, for example, is pricked, can +have an idea of the stimulation, although he does not perceive it. He +does not feel the prickings, but the excitation calls forth the idea of +their number: he counts them as a normal individual would do; “only, +in hysterical individuals, the first part of the process occurs in one +consciousness, and the second in another.”[17] + +It can hardly be denied that these different consciousnesses are +distinct; since experience proves that each can have its own perceptions, +its own memory, and even a moral character. However, their relative +value with respect to each other matters little. We are compelled to +consider, with M. Ribot, the ego as a “coördination” of states of +consciousness, admitting of infinitely variable groupings. According to +the old conception of the ego, the personality, with respect to secondary +consciousnesses, was compared to a coachman who had ceased to have +control over his horses. This comparison is now insufficient, since it +may happen that the coachman falls asleep on the box, and that one of +the horses then governs the set, regulating, more or less perfectly, the +pace of the others by its own gait. Spiritualists, however, will never +consent to put the ego in the place of the coachman. “A stone detached +from the complex structure of the personality,” M. Binet now tells us, +“can become the starting point of a new structure, which rises rapidly +by the side of the old. Whereupon a disaggregation of the psychological +elements is produced.” This comparison is certainly more precise and more +in accordance with facts. + +Moreover, there remains to be explained how the mental compound which +constitutes the ego has been constructed from its elements. M. Binet +shows, _à propos_ of this question, that the association of ideas is +powerless to explain the genesis of personality; associations alone, +as proved by the experiences of suggestion, are not sufficient to +restore forgotten memories. Neither is memory the sole factor in +personality; since, in certain conditions a person may, while preserving +the consciousness and the memory of certain of his mental states, +nevertheless repudiate these mental states and consider them as foreign +to himself. + +This question is still an open one. But there exist certainly some +grounds for our seeking in the division of consciousness the key to +certain psychological facts, like unconscious cerebration. Such a key +would be the action of detached consciousnesses and detached memories, +that afterwards immediately enter the current of general consciousness. +Finally, “it is possible,” as M. Binet says in conclusion, “that +consciousness may be the privilege of certain of our psychic acts; it is +possible also that it exists everywhere in our organism, and it may be +even that it accompanies every manifestation of life.” + + * * * * * + +In his new work, _Agnosticisme_, M. DE ROBERTY studies with special +care the position of modern doctrines with regard to the unknown, the +great _x_ of philosophic speculations—God, Idea, Matter, Noumenon or +Unknowable. Although perhaps a little hastily written, and somewhat +obscure, his book nevertheless enforces conviction. “Our conception of +the world,” says M. de Roberty, “embraces solely the things that we +_know_ (feel, perceive, imagine, analyse, compare, etc.), and does not +comprise the least jot or tittle of what we _do not know_. _For us_, +therefore, there can be no question of any relations except between +two classes of _known_ elements: that which constitutes the object of +scientific research, and that which is outside of science. The latter +class represents _our_ unknown, which is always _relative and purely +human_.” Here, indeed, we have the true point of view, that which we +shall all reach, though perhaps at first unknown to ourselves; and I +shall be much surprised if the philosophers do not at last decide to wipe +out the formidable _Unknowable_ set up by Spencer as the ultimate entity. +We shall speak no more of the fathomless universe, but of the still +unexplored universe; of the unknown, not of the unknowable. + +There is, however, another aspect of the question. Let us suppose the +unknown got rid of; or to be more precise,—and if we regard with M. de +Roberty the psychic centres as special receivers in which the cosmical +energy empties itself, resolving itself into sensation and idea, and +from whence it spreads itself anew as motion,—let us suppose that we +have summed up all the energies received and emitted, and verified the +law which reduces memory to the conservation of energy; let us suppose +in fine that philosophy shall have found in the ego the synthesis of the +non-ego, expressed “in symbolic abbreviations and in signs,” and shall +have realised the “logical monism” which reduces things to their ideas: +would the intellect—and would the sensibility—even then be completely +satisfied? Can we conceive a state in which the curiosity of man as to +all that concerns himself will be at rest, and when he will cease to +be disquieted about the cause of suffering and of life? Kant long ago +propounded this question. But, according to M. de Roberty, the thinker +who is “a prey to the afflux of emotion referred to by Kant,” the man +“given over to the desire for another kind of knowledge than that of +experience,” are, in the category of intellectual emotions, diseased +and “perverted” persons. “The sentiments, so varied in aspect and in +strength, which inspire us,” writes he, “the contemplation of the +unknown, determine the mental illusion which materialises, so to say, our +ignorance and transforms the unknown into the unknowable.” + +Would it be inconsistent, however, to preserve the emotion of the unknown +without “materialising” it, without pronouncing any dangerous scientific +_ignorabimus_? M. de Roberty does not accept this situation,—which +was that of Littré. I do not know whether any one will discover the +“vaccine,” as he calls it, “of the pessimist emotion which has produced +agnosticism or latent religiosity.” If this constitutes a mental malady, +I fear much that it will be incurable. As long as there is unhappiness in +life, there will also be unsatisfied curiosity, and for a very long time +to come, inquietude. + + * * * * * + +The last publication of LOMBROSO and LASCHI, _Le Crime politique et les +Revolutions, par rapport au droit, à l’anthropologie criminelle et à +la science du gouvernement_ (Political Crime and Revolutions, in their +Relation to Law, Criminal Anthropology, and the Science of Government) +of which we here have a French translation, is, I will not say, the +worst written, but the most confused work imaginable. Its arrangement is +clear, but its examples are given without any order whatever. The facts +presented are abundant, but they are taken rather too much at haphazard, +and often too uncritically. The worst is that its very thesis is weak, +badly formulated or elusive in places. What a pity it is that so much +erudition should be expended, and so many valuable data be brought +together without better success in displaying to the best advantage +these riches, and also, let me say, without so many times having had +occasion to appear so clearly in the wrong! M. Lombroso remains unmoved, +unfortunately, in his high sounding and unqualified hypothesis of +“diseased genius.” He continues to develop it and to defend it in this +latest book of his, which is replete with instructive details, and +which is undoubtedly the first considerable attempt at an etiology of +revolutions and of political crime. + +The complex doctrine of Lombroso could be sufficiently summed up, if I +am not mistaken, by uniting word to word—by the mathematical sign of +equality—philoneism (or the love of novelties) with the revolutionary +spirit, the revolutionary spirit with genius, genius with insanity, +insanity with criminality, and criminality, finally, with progress. But +what a detestable thing progress would then be! We should have to protect +ourselves against it as we do against a pestilence. The evolution of +societies does not take place without great waste and loss, as we all +know. It should be carefully shown what these losses are. The study of +the conditions of social progress ought to be made in greater detail +than is here found. The terms of the imagined equation, which here +hovers before our eyes, should in fine, if any comparison is to be +effected between them, be subjected to a much more exact quantitative and +qualitative analysis. + +For example, let us take genius. Of what kinds of genius does Lombroso +speak? It seems to be sufficient for him that a man has attracted +attention, and made himself talked about, to entitle him to be called +great, while perhaps he is only a blusterer, a braggart, a servile +imitator, a mere _homunculus_. In this way the quantity of geniuses and +talented individuals he has unearthed is something extraordinary. The +result of this is a radical error in his tables of the distribution of +geniuses. The superiority that he attributes, in this respect, to certain +of our southern departments, as compared with the Norman departments, +for example, would have to be reversed if we considered the relative +quality and kind of the genius involved. For the same reason, the +relation established between genius and republican modes of government is +undoubtedly not so precise and simple as is stated. But the worst of it +is that in thus augmenting the number of men of genius, it is found that +we have, in consequence of the above mentioned equation, also increased +the number of the demented and the degenerate! + +If, moreover, it is true that the conservative mind, with less genius, +insanity, and criminality, is evidence of the senility of the race, how +can we accept the thesis that genius and the spirit of innovation are +also absolute evidence of a neurasthenic condition? Shall we deny sound +nerves to robust and vigorous youth? This, indeed, is not what Lombroso +wished to assert. Yet the famous thesis always confronts us: _Latet +anguis in herba_. The least sign of degeneracy is enough for him to brand +a man, and not only are all geniuses in his eyes unbalanced, but even +the insane are without any ado baptised geniuses; with the result that +all is heaped together in one great mass—genius, insanity, and spirit of +revolution. + +I shall not dwell any longer on these criticisms. They are simply +intended as an admonition to the learned M. Lombroso against the +allurements of a badly founded theory, and against the dangers arising +from a too hasty preparation of his books. Whatever may be its defects, +he has at least brought together in his present book many ideas. I advise +all to read with care what he says about women (and how many will find +him misoneistic on this point!), concerning their great influence in +_rebellions_, which are always barren of results, and their impotence in +_revolutions_, which are always productive of good. In the second part +of his work, namely, in the section entitled _Juridical and Political +Applications_, nearly all he says is to be commended. I agree with the +authors—or I do not wish to forget M. Laschi—as to what they tell us +in relation particularly to pettifogging parlementarianism and public +instruction. Their conclusions are perhaps not connected with the thesis +in any very intimate manner. But this is not of much consequence, as they +possess an independent value of their own. + + * * * * * + +In a previous communication I referred to the work of Savvas-Pacha on +Musulman jurisprudence. I have now to announce a work entitled _Souvenirs +du Monde musulman_, by M. CH. MISMER, (published by Hachette,) the +fourth and last volume of a valuable series which is greatly deserving +of attention. M. Mismer, who has lived a long time in the East—at +Constantinople, in Crete, and in Egypt—and was acquainted with the +leading personages of the Empire, does not hesitate to return here to +the theory which he set forth more than twenty years ago in his _Soirées +de Constantinople_, his theory, namely, of the social advantages, and +even the superiority, of Islamism over Christianity; subject however to +the special worth of the races which belong to either of these two forms +of religion. This opinion is not lightly uttered, and it will appear +the more striking in view of the present crisis of social and moral +decomposition which is now spreading throughout the western nations. + +In the work of M. Mismer will be found some of the great and striking +qualities of the observing and thoughtful mind. In connection with a +special problem of great importance in public instruction, that of +heredity, I shall call to the attention of my readers the following +statement, made with reference to the young men of the “Egyptian Mission” +in France, directed by M. Mismer for ten years. “The capacity of a +pupil,” says he, “was always found to be intimately connected with the +cerebral culture of his ancestors and the faculties constituting the +superiorities of his race.” “It was the same,” adds he, “from the moral +standpoint.” Undoubtedly, if M. Mismer had taken the pains to make a note +of the facts summed up in his statement, and to present the full case of +the numerous pupil’s that he has had under his care, he would have been +able to furnish science with data of the greatest value. Let us at least +receive his lessons as he offers them to us. They are the fruit of the +experience of a “man of action,” and it speaks well for an observation +that it has rendered good service in practice. + + LUCIEN ARRÉAT. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[17] The hypothesis of the division of consciousness explains, +consequently, much better than that of the motive force of mental images, +the facts of automatic writing (spiritism). [The works of Binet, Roberty, +and Lombroso are published by Alcan.] + + + + +CRITICISMS AND DISCUSSIONS. + + + + +COMTE AND TURGOT. + + +_To the Editor of The Monist_: + +Your “note of inquiry” mentioned on p. 611 of the last _Monist_ is +answered in full by Littré in _Auguste Comte et la Philosophie Positive_, +where Turgot’s name heads the third chapter. He shows that the latter +discovered the law of the three stages, theological, metaphysical, and +positive, by the following quotation from his _Histoire des progrès de +l’esprit humain_. + +“While the connection between physical effects was yet unknown, nothing +was more natural than to suppose that they were produced by intelligent +beings, invisible and resembling ourselves; for what else could they have +resembled? Everything that happened without the intervention of man, had +its god, whose worship was soon established by fear or hope, and this +worship was conceived in accordance with the deference accorded powerful +men; for the gods were only more powerful men and more or less perfect +according as they were the product of an age more or less enlightened as +to the true perfections of humanity. When philosophers had recognised +the absurdity of these fables, without however having obtained true +light upon natural history, they imagined an explanation of the causes +of phenomena by abstract expressions, such as essences and faculties: +expressions that nevertheless explained nothing and that were reasoned +about as if they had been beings, new divinities substituted for the old +ones. These analogies were followed out, and faculties were multiplied +to account for each effect. It was only very late, in observing the +mechanical action that bodies have upon one another, that other +hypotheses were drawn from this mechanics, (_de cette mécanique_) which +mathematics could develop and experience verify.” + +Littré calls attention to “the great sureness of judgment” that led +Turgot to cite only physical phenomena when he spoke of those that had +ceased to be interpreted either theologically or metaphysically. “When he +wrote this passage, positivity (I use this word, a necessary creation of +M. Comte’s) was only beginning to reach chemical phenomena and had not +yet attained those of biology and sociology.” + +But, says Littré, “after reserving the rights of priority for this +eminent thinker, there is nothing to prevent M. Comte from keeping +all the part that he had made himself and that belongs to him. Three +principal points mark Comte’s independence of Turgot. The latter saw +in the conception nothing more than an idea to meditate upon; Comte +saw in it a sociological law; Turgot did not attach to it a sketch +of human development; Comte developed with the aid of this law the +whole historical series; Turgot did not perceive that he held one of +the necessary elements of a philosophy; Comte, in the same flight of +thought, went from history become science to philosophy become positive. +The sociological law, isolated in Turgot, makes part, in Comte, of a +vast whole: there were therefore two independent creations. Either M. +Comte had not read Turgot, or, more probably, he had read him at a time +when this passage, which to-day awakens attention, had no particular +significance.” + +The fourth chapter in Littré’s Life of Comte has for heading the names +of Kant and Condorcet. The whole of the former’s remarkable sketch of +general history is given and reference is made to the letter in chap. +viii, where Comte, in 1824, being twenty-six years old, says to M. +d’Eichthal, his former pupil, “I have read and reread with infinite +pleasure Kant’s little treatise; it is prodigious for the epoch, and if +I had known it six or seven years sooner it would have saved me trouble. +I am delighted that you have translated it; it can contribute very +efficaciously to preparing minds for positive philosophy. Its general +conception or at least its method is still metaphysical, but the details +show the positive spirit at every instant. I had always regarded Kant not +only as a very strong head, but as the metaphysician that approaches the +nearest to positive philosophy. But this reading has greatly fortified +and especially given precision to my conviction in that regard. If +Condorcet had had knowledge of this writing, which I do not believe, +very little merit would remain to him, since he can pretend only to that +of the conception, which is almost as firm and, in some respects, even +clearer in Kant. As for me, after this reading I can find in myself, up +to the present time, no other value than that of having systematised and +fixed the conception that had been sketched by Kant unknown to me, which +I owe chiefly to a scientific education; and even the most positive and +distinct step that I have taken after him, seems to me only the discovery +of the law of the passage of human ideas through the three stages, +theological, metaphysical, and scientific; a law that appears to me to +be the foundation of the work whose execution Kant has counselled. I +thank my lack of erudition to-day; for if my work, such as it is now, had +been preceded by a study of Kant’s treatise, it would have lost much of +its value in my eyes. I conceive now, as you said, that, for the German +philosophers that are familiar with this treatise, my work will really +have a great effect only with the second part.” This work was a short +one reprinted in Saint-Simon’s _Catéchisme des industriels_ and called +“A System of Positive Politics.” It had been inserted two years before, +under the title of “A Plan of the Work Necessary for the Reorganisation +of Society,” in a pamphlet of Saint-Simon’s, without Comte’s name, and it +was because the latter insisted, this time, upon an acknowledgment of his +authorship that Saint-Simon broke with him. The “second part,” which was +to produce the great effect upon the German philosophers, never appeared; +or rather, it soon grew to be the _Course of Positive Philosophy_, +begun on the 2d of April, 1826, before Humboldt, Blainville, and other +celebrated listeners. + +The term _positive philosophy_ had long been used by Saint-Simon and his +school, Comte among the rest, not in the special sense that the latter +now gave it, but as a “generic name for the whole of science.” The first +use of the words as we now understand them is in a letter from Comte +to M. d’Eichthal, dated Aug. 5, 1824. “I cannot help recalling your +judicious reflection upon the influence that social physics, once formed, +will have upon scientific philosophy. I go even further than you, for +I think that it will be only then that a veritable philosophy of the +sciences can exist. All the philosophical ideas that are there to-day, +although very precious up to that time, appear to me to have nothing +more than a simply provisory (provisoire) character. I shall speak a +little about this relation in the general preface that I announce to you, +where I shall explain that the true title of my work would be _positive +philosophy_, and that if I preferred _politics_, it is because that is +the most urgent philosophical application and the one that is to found +the science, but that later I or you or others will complete this system +of ideas by the encyclopedic re-coinage of all our positive cognitions +(connaissances), which ought really to be conceived as a single mass, +although, for good culture, it is indispensable to preserve and to push +even, in one sense, further than it is, the division of labor, so that +each special savant can always, subsequently, conceive the relation of +his branch and even of his twig to the universal trunk.” + +In a letter of about this date Comte refers to his habit of never +rewriting anything. His memory permitted him to look upon a volume as +finished when it had been thought out and before a line had been written. +But even in his letters we notice some of the disadvantages of this +procedure, which, while conducive to unity, sacrifices literary form. + +It is true that Comte studied under Saint-Simon; but, according to +Littré, his purely philosophical dependence was very slight, while his +influence upon his master was important. “What forms the distinguishing +characteristic of Saint-Simon at the epoch when he lived, is the social +destination that he assigns without hesitating to the ideas that +preoccupy him. He has, as we have seen, only the most confused notion +of what this philosophy will be; but, no matter what it is to be, he +consecrates it in advance to the reorganisation of society.” + +As regards Condorcet, Comte enthusiastically acknowledges his +indebtedness to the “Sketch of an Historical Table of the Progress of the +Human Mind,” and even goes beyond the facts, as he did in his praise of +Kant. + +Littré makes a fair division of credit among others as well as those +already named, and concludes as follows: “Turgot had discovered that +human conceptions, at first theological, afterwards become metaphysical +and end by being positive. Kant had known that history is a natural +phenomenon, subjected to a determinate course, and Condorcet, pushed +harder than his predecessors by advancing time,” (he had been condemned +to death) “had attempted to trace a table that should put in evidence +the enchainment of the progresses of civilisation. These are great +things, but they are still only rudiments; for neither Turgot nor his +successors make use of the discovered law to found upon this general +fact evolution; Kant, who perceives clearly the necessity of conceiving +history as regulated by the conditions inherent to humanity, is unable to +base this important notion on anything better than an _à priori_ idea” +(the metaphysical principle that nature does nothing in vain, and that as +human faculties do not reach their development in the individual, who is +ephemeral, they must do so in the species, which is durable) “and thus he +leaves it incapable of fixing the attention of a century whose tendencies +were more and more positive; lastly Condorcet has no other guide than the +negative philosophy of the eighteenth century in a work to which it could +bring only contradiction.” + +John Stuart Mill says of Comte that “far from pretending to originality +when he had really no right to do so, he was eager to attach his most +original thoughts to every germ of a similar idea that he met with among +his predecessors.” + +Speaking for himself, Littré says of the law of the three stages, “I do +not reject it, I restrain it. As long as we remain in the scientific +order and consider the conception of the world first theological, +then metaphysical, finally positive, the law of the three stages has +its full efficacy in directing the speculations of history.... But in +history all is not comprised in the scientific order. M. Comte, who has +said somewhere that it is necessary to suppose, at the beginning of +humanity, certain notions that were neither theological nor metaphysical, +has indicated the germ, I will not say of my objection, but of my +restriction. In fact this law of the three stages comprehends neither +industrial, nor moral, nor æsthetic development. It has however, the +excellent character of being relative to the speculations in which +evolution by filiation is most manifest and consequently of giving a +positive notion of the march of history.” + +Is it true, as stated on p. 565 of _The Monist_ for July, that Stuart +Mill adopted Hume’s “erroneous conception of causality” to the extent +implied in the following passage? “This idea of ‘sequence’ however +was exactly Hume’s mistake, adopted by Mr. Mill, and through Mr. Mill +popularised among English thinkers. If the nature of cause and effect +were really constituted by invariable sequence, then the night might be +called the effect of the day because night is invariably consequent upon +day.” + +The only authority at hand on the island from which I write is +Clemenceau’s translation of Mill’s “Auguste Comte and Positivism,” where, +on p. 61, I read as follows, “The succession of day and night is just as +much an invariable succession as the alternate exposition of the earth’s +two opposite sides to the sun. Yet day and night are not the cause of +each other; why? Because their succession, although invariable, according +to our experience, is not so unconditionally: these phenomena succeed +each other only upon the condition that the presence and the absence +of the sun succeed each other; and if this alternation were to cease, +day and night would not follow each other. There are thus two kinds of +uniformities of succession, one without conditions, the other dependent +on the former: laws of causation, and other successions which depend on +these laws.” + +In a note Mill refers to his _System of Deductive and Inductive Logic_. + + LOUIS BELROSE, JR. + + + + +SOME REMARKS UPON PROFESSOR JAMES’S DISCUSSION OF ATTENTION. + + +In his recent treatise on psychology Professor James discusses +in an interesting and suggestive way the relation of ideation to +attention, maintaining that “ideational preparation ... is concerned +in all attentive acts.” Attention is “anticipatory imagination” or +“preperception” which prepares the mind for what it is to experience. +Thus the schoolboy, listening for the clock to strike twelve, anticipates +in imagination and is prepared to hear perfectly the very first sound of +the striking. + +It is undoubtedly true that in the form of attention we term expectant, +where we are awaiting _some given impression_, there is a representing, +antedating experience, which may be a preparatory preperception. But with +a wrong imaging of what is to be experienced there is hindrance, as when +in a dark quiet room we are led to expect sensation of light but actually +receive sensation of sound. Very often, indeed, our anticipations make us +unprepared for experience. Further, the experiments adduced by Professor +James from Wundt and Helmholtz are in the single form of expectant +attention, and we must remark that in these experiments the reagent is +also experimenter, and this introduces a new attention, consciousness of +consciousness, and that of a peculiar kind, which complicates an already +complex consciousness. In general we may say that experimentally incited +consciousness is artificial, at least as far as it feels itself as such, +and for certain points like simple attention this tends to vitiate +results. Self-experimentation or experiment on those conscious of it +as such may mislead in certain cases, and must, so far as this element +of consciousness of experiment is not allowed for. In physical science +things always act naturally whether with observation or experiment, but +in psychology observation, other things being equal, is more trustworthy +than experiment. + +In all cases of expectant or experimentally expectant attention, the +attention does not, however, lie in the expectancy or in the imaging as +such, but it is merely the will effort concerned in these operations. +Yet as we may expect without effort, and preconceive without volition, +attention is necessarily involved in neither. A perception or a +preperception is an attention only as accomplished by will with effort, +but only an unattention when purely involuntary. Professor James’s +use of attention as preperception brings us back to the common idea +of attention, as any consciousness which cognises something. This is +so inbred in thought and language that it is most difficult to avoid +using the term in this sense. Many psychologists like Mr. James and Mr. +Sully frequently mention attention as a will phenomenon but they do +not treat it under will, and they constantly return to the cognition +meaning. Höffding, however, treats attention under psychology of will. +Attention as the exercise of will in building up and maintaining +cognitive activity, is naturally treated under cognition; but it is on +the whole safer and better to discuss attention under will so as to keep +it sharply distinguished from the presentation form which it vitalises. +I have endeavored to hold the term strictly to this sense, yet it is not +unlikely I may sometimes unwittingly countenance the common confusion, +but trust the instances will be few. + +When we have, then, a case of expectant attention we must distinguish +the attention in the imaging from the attention in the actual cognising. +It is, indeed, true for us almost invariably that cognitive strain +without immediate realisation is incentive to ideating. In listening +in the night in vain for a sound we hear in imagination many sounds, +and we form preparatory ideas of what we are to hear. Sense-adjustments +call up a train of sensations in ideal form. But it is obvious that low +intelligences which have no power of expectancy or ideation do yet really +attend. The very first cognitions and all early cognitions by their very +newness and difficulty were attentions long before ideation was evolved. +With low organisms, as cognitive power extends only to the present in +time and space, immediacy of reaction is imperatively demanded, and +every tension of cognitive apparatus is immediately directive of motor +apparatus so that suitable motion is at once accomplished. The cognition, +though dim and evanescent factor, is yet powerfully energised, and so a +true attention. Always with lowest sentiencies, and often with higher, +pain is suddenly realised without anticipation, followed quickly by +attention as strong effort to cognise the nature and quality of the +pain-giver and so to effectually get rid of pain-giver and pain. + +Preliminary idea, then, cannot occur in early attentions and in late +attentions it is by no means necessary. It is said that we see only +what we look for, but it must be answered that seeing commonly happens +without any looking for. The kindergarten child, Professor James to the +contrary notwithstanding, is not confined in his seeing to merely those +things which he has been told to see and whose names have been given +him. A child continually asks, What is that? and is quick to discern +the absolutely new and strange. He accomplishes a wide variety of +attentions without ideas and gives himself almost entirely to immediate +presentations. + +To be sure, every one sees only what he is prepared to see, only what is +made possible for him by his mental constitution as determined by his own +pre-experience and the experience of his ancestors, but this does not +signify ideation. Every cognising is conditioned by the past, but this +does not call for a reawakening and projecting in ideal form at every +instance of cognitive effort, before any real cognition is reached. + +In fact, many, if not the most of our attentions, are merely +intensifyings of some present cognition, of some cognitive psychosis +which has simply come or happened. Take the instance of attention +to marginal retinal images, this certainly does not always imply +preperception, the forming of an idea of what we are to see, though +in the cases mentioned by Professor James it may. For example, I was +writing the above seated with my profile to the window when I became +suddenly aware, through the physiological agency of a marginal image, of +a moving object to my right. This perception of bare undefined object was +spontaneous, a pure given; I exercised no will in attaining it, and so +the state of cognition was not an attention. However, by attending, by +intensifying the cognition by will effort, I perceive that the indefinite +object is a man walking on the sidewalk, who is of a certain height, +clothed in a certain way, etc. I do not trace the least ideation in the +whole process, the slight attending as act of will did not imply any +anterior or posterior idea or representation. The reason for the will +act was the intrinsic interest of movement, and this intrinsic interest +arises in the fact that moving objects have had for all life a special +pleasure-pain significance, the moving object is the most dangerous, and +so motion perceived has become ingrained in mind as a special stimulant +of attention. This habit of attentiveness to things in motion survives +and continues for cases where it is of no use and even of harm; thus, +in the present instance, it diverts me from my work. It is obvious +that attention often occurs in the same way for other senses without +preliminary idea. + +On the whole we must conclude that attention is a much abused term, and +it is to be hoped that psychologists will for the future keep to the +definite and best use of the term; namely, to denote cognitive effort in +all its degrees and modes. + + HIRAM M. STANLEY. + + + + +IS MONISM ARBITRARY? + + +In Vol. II, No. 3, of _The Monist_, a very kind criticism appeared from +the pen of Mr. Francis C. Russell of the doctrine of a double-faced unity +of mind and matter. It was said that this doctrine is very far from +inducing that final satisfaction which we rightly expect of a competent +theory, and the critic propounded as a possible explanation of mental +phenomena the postulate of a conservation of spirit. He calls spirit the +elementary basis of consciousness considered as a quality. Spirit would +be the subjectivity of nature, the elements of feeling, or as Professor +Morgan calls it metakinesis; and consciousness would originate in the +same way as electricity, i. e., by rending spirit asunder into positive +and negative spirit so as to produce a tension. This would account for +the appearance and disappearance of consciousness in that spiritual +“dynamo” which is called the nervous system. + +This proposition seems to be highly acceptable because it stands upon the +principle of a conservation of substance and attempts to represent the +phenomenon of consciousness as due to a transformation. But does it for +that reason remove the difficulties of the doctrine of a double-faced +unity of nature, which, as Mr. Russell says, “is open to the charge of +being arbitrary and brings no access of insight”? Is not perhaps the term +double-faced unity (which is none of my invention, and which I have been +careful to avoid) a misleading and unsatisfactory term? Why should nature +be double-faced? Why are feeling and motion the only two attributes of +natural phenomena? Is this not arbitrary? Could nature not be just as +well a treble or quadruple-faced unity. Nature might possess, as Spinoza +actually declares, infinite attributes of which these two only, viz. +extension and thought, i. e. motion and feeling, happen to be known to us. + +It is this apparent arbitrariness which bars our insight and deprives us +of the satisfaction that ought to attend the real solution of a problem. +But let us avoid the term double-faced unity; let us speak of the +subjectivity and the objectivity of nature, and the clouds will disappear. + +The doctrine of a double-faced unity has been criticised as dualism, +and the proposition that nature consists of two radically different +attributes—exactly of two, not more and not less—must most decidedly +appear as dualism. But is it dualistic to say that every subject appears +to its objects not as a subject but as an object among other objects? +Certainly not. + +The relativity of the terms subject and object affords us the key to +a comprehension of the situation. This world of ours is a world of +relations. The phenomena of nature exhibit an unceasing activity; they +consist of constant changes, and every change, every motion, has a whence +and a whither. Every transformation is a series of events among which any +prior one is called cause and any subsequent one effect. + +If we regard feeling and motion as two attributes of nature, we are +actually on the brink of dualism, and we shall understand how Spinoza, +in order to escape from dualism and arrive at a monistic view, assumed +without any plausible argument the existence of an infinite number of +attributes. This assumption however is of no avail, for the problem would +arise: How is it that we know only two of all these infinite attributes? +Why do we not know any other? and why are we unable to form even a dim +notion of any other? If they exist why do they exhibit no effects upon +us? Perhaps because we ourselves and this world of ours consist only +of two! And if they exhibit no effects upon us and upon our world, can +they be said to exist at all? Might we not, in that case, consider them +as non-existent and count the two known attributes alone as actual +realities? Thus the dualism would remain; and Spinoza’s monism is only +apparent. + +The same objection cannot be made if we remain conscious of the fact that +feelings are as much abstracts as motions. Subjectivity and objectivity +are correlative terms. There is as little a duality in the idea, that +subjects presuppose objects as that effects presuppose causes. There +are not causes in the world which are nothing but causes, nor are there +effects which are nothing but effects. Take for instance an historical +event. Was Cæsar’s death a cause or an effect? Plainly, this depends upon +the view we take. As the sequence of the wounds which Cæsar received +from his assassins it was an effect; as the beginning of the civil war +consequent thereupon it was a cause. If I look at you, you are the object +and I am the subject. If you look at me, it is the reverse. Thus the +relation of a certain thing to its surroundings makes of it a subject, +while the surroundings are its objects. + +Subject and object being correlatives, we can very well understand why +there are no “subjects in themselves”; every subject is at the same time +an object in the objective world. We can further understand, why every +subjectivity except our own withdraws itself from direct observation. +We can observe the movements of organisms like ourselves and judge by +way of analogy that they feel pain or enjoy pleasure. We see their +motions which betray certain feelings, but we can never see the feelings +themselves; and even supposing that we could enter into the brain of a +man and that the whole mechanism of brain-action were laid open to our +inspection in its minutest details, we should see motions, combinations +and separations, integrations and disintegrations, we should see the +oxydation of the gray substance, which would appear as a great turmoil +and excitement, but we should see (as Leibnitz says) no thoughts, no +perceptions, no feelings. That it cannot be otherwise is obvious when +we consider that our objects will always present to us the character of +objectivity. + +But suppose We were an atom of oxygen and entered into the process of +brain-action as an active factor, our subjectivity would soon become +absorbed and welded into a higher unity with the subjectivity of the +other atoms. We should then, as a part of that brain’s consciousness, +feel these feelings, perceptions, and thoughts; we should, then, _be_ the +subject which we could not see and which we were searching for in vain in +the world of objectivity. + +This conception of the correlation of subjectivity and objectivity +does not only convincingly explain the unity of feeling and motion, it +does not only establish a satisfactory monism, it throws light also on +some other of the questions that puzzle us. How is it that we do not +feel our brain-motions to be brain-motions? We feel our feelings only; +and when feeling our feelings we do not so much feel _that_ we feel as +_what_ we feel. In other words, we feel the contents of our feelings; we +feel their import, their meaning; we are aware of their significance; +our consciousness is conscious of the object, the presence of which is +indicated by this special feeling. Our attention is concentrated upon the +messages conveyed by and contained in the different feelings. + +These messages of certain feelings are the interpretations given either +to certain sense-impressions or they are the thought-symbols representing +some abstracts, representing certain features of sense-impressions. + +How little we feel our brain-motions when we think, can be learned +from the fact that some nations place the seat of thinking in the +heart, others in the stomach or even the bowels, while even so great a +naturalist as Aristotle regarded the brain as cold and insensible; he +made the observation that man is in possession of the relatively largest +brain, but he understood its function so little that he thought it served +to cool the warmth rising from the heart. + +It is strange that every subjective feeling so long as it remains within +itself can neither be localised nor determined. We know nothing whatever +of the brain-motion that thinks a certain idea. We can fairly assume +that every idea is in its objective existence a peculiar kind of brain +motion taking place in a particular part of the brain, but we are not +conscious of the brain-motion as a special and localised motion. We are +quite unable to tell the difference that we must suppose to exist between +the forms of the brain-structures or combinations of brain-structures and +their motions when we think say for instances of virtue and of vice. We +are conscious only of the idea and not of their objective correlates. + +Whatever we know of our body, we know only through sensation; i. e., +by the same means by which we know of other things. Our body is to us, +and is represented with the assistance of the senses, as an object in +the objective world. As such it is localised and all its relations and +activities are determined. Whatever subjective feeling we have concerning +any state of ourselves, remains indistinct until with the help of the +senses it is made an object to our observation. Who has not as yet made +the experience that he was unable to localise a toothache. The pain +itself gives no information either as to its nature and cause or as to +the seat of the suffering. The pain itself is purely subjective. All the +objective facts have to be localised with the assistance of the senses. +The suspected regions must be made the object of experiments and if any +irritation of a certain spot increases the ache, it will be assumed to be +the seat of the pain. And even then how often is a patient mistaken not +only almost always as to the nature but often also as to the seat of the +pain. + +These facts appear strange, but they cease to be strange, when we +consider that the nature of subjectivity is feeling. Subjectivity can as +little become directly conscious of its own objectivity as an eye can +look at itself. However, an eye can look at its image in the mirror. So +the complex of subjective existence, which is through the interaction of +an organism united in what we call a soul, can and does turn the channels +of its own senses back upon itself and thus forms an opinion concerning +its own objectivity. Man’s knowledge of his own objective existence is +not due to any internal and direct perception of self, but solely to the +same experience through which he receives information concerning the rest +of the world. + + P. C. + + + + +A REPLY TO A CRITIC. + +WITH A DISCUSSION OF NECESSARY TRUTHS. + + +_To the Editor of The Monist_: + +I hope it is not a breach of etiquette to ask you to forward to your +reviewer the following remarks in reply to his criticism of my work (_The +Foundations of Geometry_, reviewed in Vol. II, No. 1, of _The Monist_). +If he is good enough to review my second book also, I think they will +clear up some misunderstandings. + +Your reviewer commences with some general remarks, against which I have +nothing to say. He then proceeds to consider my “requirements for a +logical definition.” Here he seems to find a difficulty—which may be +due to my not having expressed myself clearly. If so I hope he will +read what I say on the same subject in my _Essay on Reasoning_, which +I cannot believe he will find “indefinite” or not well “issuable.” But +indeed I cannot see where his difficulty comes in with my old statement +of the case. I state perfectly clearly that requirements (3) and (4) are +not _logically_ necessary for a definition, but are only required if +that definition is intended to give a _particular meaning_ to the word. +He tries to reduce my argument _ad absurdum_ by giving a definition +of “troft.” But so far from being absurd his definition is perfectly +good. According to it “troft” would include in its denotation all +our percepts and concepts. When however he goes on to say “... These +significant names must be so used that the intellectual sensibility shall +be excited to perceive that which is intended to be defined,” I differ +from him entirely. This is only required for a _description_, not for a +_definition_ (see _Essay on Reasoning_, p. 53). + +Your reviewer’s only solid objection to my “requirements” seems to be +that the fourth includes all the rest. This is only true if the term +proposed for definition has an import which has already been determined; +but even in such a case it is better to consider the requirements +separately, as I have given them. For the force of objections under the +different headings varies enormously. An objection under heading (1), +if established, would be fatal to any definition whatever. One under +heading (2) so far from being fatal would only be a suggestion for the +improvement of the definition. Objections under either of the headings +(3) and (4) would only be to the effect that the term as defined meant +something different from what it was desired that it should mean. It +is however convenient to consider (3) and (4) separately as it would +generally be possible to decide (3) at once, whereas if a doubt were +raised under heading (4) it might lead to a prolonged discussion before +it could be laid. I do not however pretend that the “requirements” are +laid down in my _Foundations of Geometry_ in the best possible form. +Indeed I have altered the form in my second essay. There is moreover +one requirement for a logical definition which is not included in my +heading (1) in the _Foundations of Geometry_, though it is included in +(4). This defect is remedied in the _Essay on Reasoning_ (p. 55). It is +curious that your reviewer should have missed this point, as it is the +very one on which he attacks my definition of “direction.” It is that +the assertions in a definition must not be _independent_ of the meaning +of the term defined. If they were, the assertion would be equally true +(or false) whatever meaning the term might have. The _import_ of the +term would therefore be unlimited. In the case of explicit definitions a +similar error is called _circulus in definiendo_. + +When your reviewer goes on to attack my definition of “direction” +why does he change his front all at once, and disregard all the +considerations he has just been discussing? Why does he not apply +my, or his own, requirements for a definition to the case in point? +The criticism he actually does put forward will not bear a moment’s +investigation. If my definition is “circular,” the assertion must be +equally true whatever meaning is ascribed to the term. Well, then, let +us try the effect of giving to it the meaning we ordinarily ascribe +to “cheese.” Is it equally true that “a cheese may be conceived to be +indicated by naming two points, as the cheese from one to the other”? +Clearly not. But not only does this one assertion out of my definition +exclude the import of “cheese” from the meaning of “direction,” but, more +particularly, it distinguishes between the “three distinct but closely +associated notions” which your reviewer quite rightly says “become +confused in thought and expression unless the most solicitous care is +taken to distinguish them.” This is exactly the care which I _have_ +taken, by framing my definition. + +I need not say much about the rest of the criticism. Your reviewer’s +remarks on my definition of “angle” are simply due to the fact that he +has not read the definition carefully, and probably has not read the note +on the top of page 36 at all. It may make it clearer to him if I point +out that if “we imagine a northeast-southwest line cutting an east-west +line,” we imagine _four_ different directions and therefore (4⋅3)/(1⋅2) += 6 angles. Two of these are the straight angles between the opposite +directions of each of the two lines. The other four are what Euclid calls +“the angles between the lines.” As an angle, according to my definition, +has no local habitation in space, it is, _prima facie_, meaningless to +talk of the “right hand upper angle.” But if this is only an abbreviation +for “the angle between the directions upwards and to the right,” then +“the right hand upper angle” means the same as it would in Euclid. + +With the remarks about the nature of the challenge I have thrown down I +heartily agree. May I however suggest that I have a right to expect that +criticism should be, not only “competent and candid,” but careful? It +is a difficult subject, and _I_ at least am not always able to express +myself in such a way that my meaning cannot be misunderstood by any one. +I think if your reviewer looks at what I have said again, with the aid +of what I say further in my _Essay on Reasoning_, he will see that his +criticisms have really originated in misunderstandings, and perhaps he +will alter his judgment that I have “come short of the high result to +which I aspired.”[18] + +But my chief object in writing to you to-day is to bring specially to +your notice my ideas on the nature of so-called “necessary truths.” +I am not quite clear how far you will find my views harmonise with +your own. To a great extent I am inclined to think they are simply a +further analysis of the views you express in _The Monist_ and in your +_Fundamental Problems_. I will briefly sketch my own ideas and you can +then judge whether they are yours also or not. + +In my _Essay on Reasoning_ I classify assertions as Truisms (assertions +whose truth depends solely on the definitions of their terms) and Real +Assertions, which convey some real subjective or objective information. +I show that the validity of all purely formal knowledge depends on the +fact that it is deduced from definitions alone, which are laid down +_arbitrarily_ and that the supposed peculiar certainty of the theorems +of pure mathematics is merely due to the fact that they are all truisms. +Thus, I think it a misnomer to call such theorems “necessary” truths. It +would be nearer the mark to call them “arbitrary” truths. + +There is no _necessity_ whatever about the theorem “twice two is four.” +“Two” is defined as 1 + 1; “twice,” as the operation of adding a thing to +itself. It follows from this that “twice two” is 1 + 1 + 1 + 1; and this, +by _definition_, is “four.” If “four” were defined as 1 + 1 + 1, (and +there is no “necessary” reason why it should not be,) then “twice two” +would _not_ be “four.” The assertion “twice two is four” conveys no real +information whatever—at best it could only tell us what one of its terms +meant if they had not all been previously defined. + +I cannot insist too strongly on the importance of a proper understanding +and use of logical definition. If you desire to know whether a given +assertion is true or false, _a priori_ or _a posteriori_, the first step +in the investigation MUST be to find out how its terms were defined. +If it turns out that the truth (or falsehood) of the assertion can +be formally deduced from these definitions, then the assertion is a +truism (or contradiction in terms): in either case it can give no real +information, and even if true cannot be a “necessary” truth. Only if the +definitions of the terms are both independent and consistent is it open +to discussion how we might come to a knowledge of the fact it expresses. + +I may briefly indicate here how I think the problem ought to be +attacked. “Objective facts” can only be established by induction. I do +not mean by that term necessarily the process described by Mill, but +some similar process, based ultimately on _inductio per enumerationem +simplicem_. Now no such process can ever lead to a necessary truth. The +most fundamental and certain induction which can be made, that which +induces us to believe in the objectivity of our environment, does not +lead to a “necessary truth”; and much less can any other induction based +upon this one do so. “Objective facts” then may be established with +greater or less probability, but can never be _necessarily_ true. But +all inductions are based on our perceptions, that is ultimately on our +subjective sensations. And a man can, nay, must be, absolutely certain +of the reality of his own sensations though he cannot be certain of the +interpretations he puts upon them. If I have a toothache I cannot be +absolutely certain that I have a tooth, but, at least while the pain +lasts, I am _absolutely_ certain that I have an ache. And so of any +subjective sensation. + +I can similarly be absolutely certain that I entertain a given concept, +while that concept is before my mind; though of course it is possible +that if I assert the possession of that concept I may do so in language +which may be misunderstood by the person I am addressing. If then a +man has certain concepts which he can call up at will, the reality of +those concepts, _qua_ concepts, is to him a _necessary truth_. He may +lay down such necessary truths as axioms, and by their aid he may give +real subjective import to a symbolic argument, and so obtain new and +complicated assertions which are also to him necessary truths. This is +what I do in my subjective theory of geometry. That theory might be +regarded as purely symbolic—the axioms might have been left out, and +all its conclusions looked upon as mere truisms. The conclusions of +geometry of four or more independent directions can perhaps _only_ be +regarded as truisms. But by the aid of the axioms, geometry of two and +three independent directions can be given real subjective import, and its +conclusions therefore regarded as necessary truths, as long as they are +only taken subjectively. They may further be applied objectively by the +aid of objective facts established by induction, but in this case their +validity is no greater than that of the primary facts, the counterparts +of the subjective axioms, which are employed to give the theory objective +import. + +I confess I have not studied Kant sufficiently to say that his views +differ, materially from mine, though I always thought they did until I +read your interpretations of them. Perhaps I misunderstood the sense +in which Kant used the term _a priori_. The term has been used in so +many different senses that I prefer myself to drop it altogether. If it +merely refers to priority in time there can be no practical doubt that, +whether in the case of the human race or of an individual thinker, a +large amount of sense-experience must have preceded even so simple an +_a priori_ judgment as “twice two is four.” If the term merely refers +to priority in logical validity it seems to me better to say that “such +and such assertions are not dependent upon experience.” But Kant says +of the assertion “7 + 5 = 12” that it is not only “_a priori_” but +“synthetic”. By the latter term he means that its truth was _not_ deduced +from definitions alone, and that the assertion therefore conveys real +information. In this I believe he was wrong, and though he afterwards +declares that “all knowledge _a priori_ is empty and cannot give +information about things,” unless the true nature of _a priori_ knowledge +is made more clear, people will inevitably continue to believe the +contrary—and to believe moreover that Kant taught so. + +Any language which seems to imply that there is some dread necessity +about mathematical truths—that they could not be otherwise if they +would—is very misleading. Of course it is necessarily true that _if_ you +have seven objects and add five more to them you will have in all twelve +objects. But the whole objective difficulty is begged by the supposition. +“Much virtue in if!” + +As I understand it the essence of the “laws” of pure mathematics is that +they are verbal, that is they are only abbreviated expressions of the +results of certain verbal processes. If the processes are repeated and +the results similarly expressed, the results must always be the same. +Our reason cannot “inform us about the form of existence” unless it is +first given, as the _data_ or facts which correspond to the definitions +of our symbolic arguments. It is only because our reasoning faculties +are limited that symbolic arguments are necessary at all—that it is +not evident to us at once that the conclusions of the most intricate +mathematical calculations are given to us along with the _data_. Given +the data, then in all possible worlds the conclusions must indeed follow, +but only because they really are already _in_ the data which were given. + +It may be that you will not only agree with all I have said, but have +already said much of it yourself. But there are some passages in your +_Fundamental Problems_ which seem to imply otherwise. I think the great +objection I have to urge against Kant, and also perhaps against you, is +that you do not distinguish as clearly as I could wish between symbolic +argument and real, though subjective, knowledge. And the only way to +distinguish between them is by inquiring into the definitions of the +terms. + +For example, on p. 165 of _Fundamental Problems_ you say that to +four-dimensional beings Kepler’s third law “would most probably appear as +‘the cubes of their times of revolution being proportional to their mean +distances to the fourth power.’” + +Now what sort of assertion do you take Kepler’s law to be? Originally +it was a purely empirical law obtained by pure induction. If the +four-dimensional people obtained their law the same way why should +the result appear different to them? Or do you conceive the law to be +deduced from Newton’s theory of gravitation? But even so the law of the +inverse square was obtained empirically. If you think that law can be +explained (as the analogous law for the distribution of light can) by the +supposition that the integral of the force over all points at a given +distance from the origin is constant, still this supposition is purely +gratuitous unless established by induction from experience. If you grant +any one of these suppositions you can by symbolic argument obtain the law +corresponding to Kepler’s for a four-dimensional space. But I may mention +that in no case does the result you anticipate come out. On the first +two suppositions the law would be unaltered. On the last supposition the +law of gravity would be changed to the inverse cube; but after that the +solution of the problem has nothing to do with four dimensions—it is +a two-dimensional problem only. The result is that in general planets +could not move in closed orbits at all. They might conceivably revolve in +circles, but such a condition would be unstable, and if it obtained their +periodic times would vary as the squares of their distances. + +Again you say (p. 74) “the doctrine of the ‘conservation of matter +and energy,’ although it has been discovered with the assistance of +experience, can be proved in its full scope by pure reason alone.” +I should very much like to see your proof (which I cannot find in +_Fundamental Problems_). How do you define the terms of the doctrine? +Do you deduce the proof from these definitions—that is do you make it a +truism? Or do you base it upon subjective axioms as I do my geometry? Or +if you base it on objective facts, how do you prove those facts by pure +reason alone? And if it is purely a subjective proof, how, can you say +the doctrine is proved “in its full scope”? Surely objective applications +come within its scope? + +It would not be fair in me to ask you to publish my reply to your +reviewer’s criticisms, though if that reply is justified the criticism +must have done the prospects of my book some injury, seeing from what +a quarter it comes. But I hope you will see your way to publishing the +latter part of this letter in _The Monist_, together with your reply to +it, if you think it worthy of such a distinction. + +I have just come across, in this month’s _Nineteenth Century_, another +remarkable instance of reasoning which seems to be rendered entirely +nugatory by the want of proper definitions. It is asserted that +conceptual thought is impossible without language. At first sight this +would certainly appear to be a real assertion. It follows from it that +since dogs have no language they have no “conceptual thought.” But it +may be plainly shown that dogs do entertain “general notions,” which +in ordinary English would be included under the head of “conceptual +thought.” The apparent contradiction is however explained when it appears +that the author distinguishes general notions as “concepts” or “recepts,” +according as they _are_ or _are not named_. This being his definition of +“conceptual thought” as opposed to other thought, it appears that the +assertion is only a truism after all, and conveys no real information +whatever. To discuss it further is then mere waste of time. The author of +the assertion doubtless _wished_ it to convey some information, but he +did not attend to his definitions and so failed to attain his object. + + EDWARD T. DIXON. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[18] The reviewer of Mr. Dixon’s book has read these remarks on his +criticism (_The Monist_, Vol. II, No. 1, p. 126) and has given them what +seems to him full consideration. He confesses that he misunderstood +what Mr. Dixon meant by “a direction.” (See the article “Logic as +Relation-Lore” to be published in a subsequent number.) In regard to the +requirements for a logical definition he must still abide by his former +opinion. The need of a definition arises either from the inaccuracy in +the application of a term or from a supposed lack of knowledge as to its +signification. Hence to use the term itself in its own definition is to +import into the definition the same vagueness or ignorance which it is +the very office of a definition to correct. When Mr. Dixon says that it +is requisite for a logical definition that the defining assertions “must +not be _independent_ of the meaning of the term defined,” what is that +but to say that the same must be _dependent_ upon that meaning? which, +unless the reviewer again misunderstands the author, is to say that we +must understand the meaning of the term before we can understand the +definition. + + ρσλ. + + + + + +MATHEMATICS A DESCRIPTION OF OPERATIONS WITH PURE FORMS. + +IN REPLY TO MR. EDWARD DIXON. + + +It is true, as Mr. Dixon says, that “Any language which seems to imply +that there is some dread necessity about mathematical truths is very +misleading.” But to say, as Mr. Dixon does in another passage, that +the truisms of mathematics are arbitrary truths, is more misleading +still. The theorems of the formal sciences are not “assertions whose +truth depends solely on the definition of their terms.” They are “real +assertions which convey some real subjective or objective information.” + +Mr. Dixon objects to Kant’s assertion that 7 + 5 = 12 is not only _a +priori_ but also synthetic. He declares, in contradistinction to Kant, +that it is deduced from definitions alone; that therefore it is empty, +and cannot give any information about things. This latter proposition, +which is a phrase of Kant’s, appears in this context as an inconsistency +of Kant’s. And it would be an inconsistency, if it had to be understood +in the sense in which Mr. Dixon quotes it. We construe Kant’s phrase that +“the _a priori_ is empty, and cannot give information about things,” in +a different way. We think that Kant intends to say that the _a priori_ +imparts real information concerning relations and forms; but that it does +not impart real information concerning substances or the materiality +of things. It is apparent that the assertion 7 + 5 = 12 cannot be +derived from the definitions of 7 or 5. Similarly, the ideas of higher +mathematics are not deduced from the few definitions of elementary +mathematics that tell what points, lines, parallels, etc., are. Of what, +then, are these complex theorems of mathematics, products? They are not +derived from sense-experience, nor from the definitions of their ultimate +elements. + +Is their origin mysterious? Here Kant leaves us in the lurch; he simply +declares that formal truth is _a priori_ and transcendental; and those of +his disciples who call themselves, with preference, transcendentalists, +have ample occasion to introduce in this _lacuna_ of Kantian thought, all +the mysticism they please. + +The problem of the origin of the truths of formal sciences is not +so difficult as it is sometimes represented. The theorems of higher +mathematics are the products of certain _operations_ performed with +the elementary forms described in the definition with which the +mathematician starts. These operations are not arbitrary; they are not +merely verbal processes; they are realities of highest importance. Not +material realities, but realities, nevertheless. They are functions, +and mathematics deals with the products of functions. It is true that +we might call twice two by any other name than four; we might call +it _vier_, or _quatre_, but the operation 1 + 1 + 1 + 1 would remain +the same, by whatever name we call its result. Mathematical truths, +accordingly, are not empty in the sense that they are meaningless; for +they are significant in the highest degree. They give real information, +not about things, but about certain relations that obtain among things. +They describe certain operations in which formal relations are traced. +And they describe them exhaustively, so that the result is, as the +Germans call it, _eindeutig bestimmt_, and the result will, under all +circumstances, be the same. Twice two _will always be_ the same as 1 + 1 ++ 1 + 1. This “it will always be,” is called necessary. There is nothing +dreadful about it, nor is there any mystery connected with it. It is not +an awful fate that decrees it, but it is the nature of sameness, that the +same is and will be the same, so long as it remains the same. + +It is often overlooked that every number in arithmetic is the result +of an operation which is symbolised by a certain figure. Numbers are +not concrete things; and as soon as we forget that they are products +of a function, we are liable to lapse into mistakes. This happens most +frequently with the numbers “zero” and “infinite.” The latter of these +two symbols is often looked upon as a concrete thing; and because the +infinite, with actual reality, is, in its completeness, inconceivable, it +has made, of every one who stumbled over this stone of offence, a mystic, +and many a radical, fearless thinker bows down to worship before the idea +of infinitude-function as it would be if it were a real thing. + +Says Mr. Dixon, “Our reason cannot inform us about the form of existence, +unless it is first given.” This is very true. The form is given, and +formal systems such as the numerical system and the lines and figures of +mathematics are mental constructions built of the stones quarried out of +the relational given in experience. + +Form being given, we can reason about the form of existence in general. +We can have ready in our minds systems of pure forms to apply to all the +various cases of our experience. And this will help us in unravelling +the problems of reality, and in extending our knowledge in those fields +with which we are little acquainted. Far be it from us to consider the +definitions, the operations, and the results of the formal sciences +as purely verbal; if they were, mathematics would lose all the great +importance which it undeniably possesses, and become mere verbiage. + +I confess that I do not understand Mr. Dixon when he says: “It is only +because our reasoning faculties are limited that symbolic arguments +are necessary at all.” In my opinion all mental activity is symbolic. +Every idea is a symbol that signifies something. It is not because our +reasoning faculties are limited that symbolic arguments are necessary +at all, but symbolism is the nature of our mind, and symbols are the +elements with which our reasoning faculties have to deal. In this sense, +every argument is symbolic. If it symbolises sense-experience, it +represents our knowledge of what may be called the materiality of things. +If it symbolises operations with pure forms, it represents the purely +formal relations of mathematics logic, algebra, etc. + +The doctrine of the conservation of matter and energy in reality means +nothing more or less than that there is no increase or decrease in the +world at large. Nothing originates out of, and nothing disappears into, +nothing. It means that twice 1 + 1 is 1 + 1 + 1 + 1, neither more nor +less; or, in other words, it means that all events are transformations. +New things originate, but their newness consists in their forms. In this +sense the law of the conservation of matter and energy would have to +be called, from Mr. Dixon’s standpoint, other differences neglected, a +truism. It is not a truism, in the sense of being arbitrary, but in the +sense of being a purely formal truth, as are all mathematical theorems. + +Mr. Dixon refers to a passage in _Fundamental Problems_, in which I say +that “To four-dimensional beings, Kepler’s third law would most probably +appear as the cubes of the times of revolutions of the planets being +proportional to their mean distances to the fourth power.” His questions, +“What sort of an assertion do you take Kepler’s law to be?” and “Why +should the result appear different to them?” show that Mr. Dixon has +overlooked the condition on which this proposition was made. The first +sentence of this paragraph begins with the words, “If space inhered, as +Kant maintains, in the thinking subject only, spatial relations and laws +would appear different to four-dimensional beings.” Space relations are +not subjective, in my opinion, but objective. Therefore, since space +relations do not inhere in the thinking subject only, because they are a +feature of the objective world, and inhere in the thinking subject in so +far as it is at the same time an object in the objective world, Kepler’s +law would appear to four-dimensional beings, if they could exist at all, +just the same as it does to us three-dimensional beings. + + P. C. + + + + +BOOK REVIEWS. + + +SOCIAL STATICS. Abridged and Revised; together with THE MAN VERSUS THE +STATE. By _Herbert Spencer_. New York: D. Appleton & Co., 1892. + +JUSTICE. Being Part IV of the Principles of Ethics. By _Herbert Spencer_. +New York: D. Appleton & Co., 1891. + +Among Mr. Spencer’s most important books are those entitled _Justice_ and +_Social Statics_. The latter, which first appeared in 1850, has just been +republished in about one-half of the original size, some parts having +been transferred to the book on _Justice_, and others omitted altogether. +“One difference,” as he says, “is that what there was in my first book of +supernaturalistic interpretation has disappeared, and the interpretation +has become exclusively naturalistic—that is, evolutionary.” Another +change is that a demonstration of the injustice of socialism is +substituted for his former arguments, plainly repudiated in _Justice_, +against private ownership of land. Equally important is the omission of +the chapter asserting “The Right to Ignore the State.” + +The demand for Woman Suffrage has also been withdrawn from the new +edition of _Social Statics_, though it retains the original protest +against “the reign of man over woman,” and asserts an “equality of +rights in the married state.” Here again, Spencer’s final position must +be sought in his _Justice_ where it is urged that women cannot justly +have equal powers with men unless they have equal responsibilities. They +cannot serve their country as men do; and if they take an equal share +in the government, “their position is not one of equality but one of +supremacy.” Even in time of peace, they are, he thinks, too impulsive +to vote judiciously, too sympathetic to oppose “fostering the worse at +the expense of the better,” and too fond of “a worship of power under +all its forms” to protect individual liberty against the encroachment of +authority. This objection seems particularly strong, because there is +still great danger of the growth of state despotism at the expense of +personal freedom, even in republics. Many recent instances are given by +Spencer in “The Man versus the State,” now reprinted in the same volume +with _Social Statics_; and it is urged in _Justice_, that even in the +United States “universal suffrage does not prevent an enormous majority +of consumers from being heavily taxed by a protective tariff for the +benefit of a small minority of manufacturers and artisans.” + +Our voters are much too ready to follow hasty impulses and unscrupulous +leaders; and both faults are most common among the most ignorant. How +strongly education encourages independence was acknowledged by those +slave-holders who said, “Our negroes shall not learn to read, for that +makes them run away.” Public schools have found their worst enemies among +Popes and Czars, and their best friends in the statesmen most honored by +republics. There is no other institution for whose advantages Americans +are practically unanimous. The necessity of popular education at the +public cost is acknowledged by Huxley, Mill, and other advanced thinkers +so generally, that Spencer’s exceptionally hostile opinion ought not to +be taken as a self-evident truth. + +Mr. Spencer’s examination of this subject does not appear to have been +so thorough as the occasion demands. In denying that education prevents +crime, he relies mainly on Joseph Fletcher, who, as stated in both +editions of _Social Statics_, “has entered more elaborately into this +question than perhaps any other writer of the day,” and who admits that +there is a “superficial evidence against instruction.” Spencer takes +no notice of Fletcher’s having succeeded completely in breaking down +this superficial evidence. In elaborate papers, published in the tenth, +eleventh, and twelfth volumes of _The Journal of the London Statistical +Society_, and illustrated by many tables and maps, Fletcher shows that +the proportion to the population, in various parts of England, of people +unable to sign their names, corresponded everywhere to the proportion +of illegitimate births as well as of commitments for crime. Separating +these latter into classes according to degree of guilt, he proves that +the worst crimes are most common where there is the most ignorance. +Thus he is enabled to say, “The conclusion is therefore irresistible +that education is essential to the security of modern society.” That +this testimony of Spencer’s principal witness is really the truth can +be further proved by the statistics in the _Encyclopædia Britannica_, +showing that between 1841 and 1876, while the percentage of illiterates +to population in England and Wales was reduced one-half, that of +criminals was reduced to one-third of what it was originally. (Vol. VIII, +pp. 221 and 249-251.) + +Spencer also refers to the fact that schools have sometimes been carried +on in the interest of despotism; but most kinds of food are easily +adulterated; and education is valuable, notwithstanding, as food for +liberty. This last consideration disposes completely of his comparison of +state-churches with state-schools; and the fact, mentioned in the revised +but not in the original edition of _Social Statics_, that opinions differ +about the best methods of education, is really an additional instance of +the encouragement given by our system of public schools to independence +of thought. + +Spencer’s chief objection to this system is that it does not fit his +theory that “the liberty of each, limited by the like liberties of +all, is the rule in conformity with which society must be organised,” +(p. 45). Such a “law of right social relationships,” (p. 55) would, he +admits, require us to repeal our laws against indecency, abolish our +Boards of Health, and close our poorhouses, postoffices, banks, and +lighthouses, except in so far as these institutions, like our streets and +roads, might be cared for by benevolent individuals. He does not tell us +how a government, thus limited to managing the police, army, and navy, +could keep up a fire-department, nor how new streets, roads, railways, +or canals could be opened, in case the owners of land put their prices +too high for the projectors; but the most unfortunate application of his +theory would be to close our public schools. + +There is no danger of this, however; and the principal evil likely to +result from his pushing his theory so far, is that he prevents people +from seeing its real value, as indicating the direction in which our +race has advanced and must make all further progress. We shall keep on +diminishing the power of the state over the man, as well as that of +the man over the child, but neither authority will ever be abolished +entirely. We shall dispense, sooner or later, with some of the public +institutions which Spencer condemns; but our common schools will, I +think, last as long as government itself. The abolitionists helped the +slave to freedom by pointing out the North Star; but they did not advise +him to quit solid earth. This mistake, although we grant that Spencer +shows us our North Star, is sometimes made in _Social Statics_. + +Timely help, too, is given by him, in a thoroughly practical way, to +those reformers who are passing out from under the cloud with a silver +lining into a Cleveland summer and a fair prospect of a Harrison fall. +Among the words best worth putting into actions at once, are these: “The +right of exchange is as sacred as any other right, and exists as much +between members of different nations as between members of the same +nation. Morality knows nothing of geographical boundaries.” ... “Hence, +in putting a veto upon the commercial intercourse of two nations, or in +putting obstacles in the way of that intercourse, a government trenches +upon men’s liberties of action, and by so doing directly reverses its +function. To secure for each man the fullest freedom to exercise his +faculties, compatible with the like freedom of all others, we find to be +the state’s duty. Now trade prohibitions and trade restrictions not only +do not secure this freedom, but they take it away. So that in enforcing +them the state is transformed from a maintainer of rights into a violator +of rights.” ... “Whether it kills, or robs, or enslaves, or shackles +by trade regulations, its guilt is alike in kind, and differs only in +degree.” (_Social Statics_, ed. of 1850, pp. 326, 327; ed. of 1892, p. +137). + + F. M. H. + + +AN ESSAY ON REASONING. By _Edward T. Dixon_. Cambridge (Eng): Deighton, +Bell, & Co. 1891. Pp. 88. + +Some years ago the author of this essay made public certain views of his, +on “Geometry of Four Dimensions.” He was surprised to find that though +his arguments were received with incredulity they were not refuted. +This result appeared to him to be due to the fact that he was not +understood, that his views on geometry of even two and three dimensions +being different from those commonly entertained, he had failed of being +understood, because he had not begun his explanation at the beginning. + +He therefore set to work to analyse those views and ultimately published +a book on the subject. This book, _The Foundations of Geometry_, was +reviewed by us in _The Monist_ of October, 1891. But now again the author +regards himself as not understood. He rested the positions and arguments +of his book upon certain views of logic and especially of definition, +which depart from the orthodox views, and he misjudged the fullness of +explanation that would therefore become needful. Hence this little essay. + +The proper approach to the views of the author is through his doctrine of +definition. Usually definition is regarded as finding its main motive and +utility in the convenience of social converse. The meaning of any term is +regarded as resting not in the choice of him who utters it, but in the +suppositions of those who are addressed. It is true that a license is +accorded to any one upon a sufficient occasion to give a special intent +to some word, but only upon condition that that intent shall be made +sufficiently express, in other words well understood by those addressed. +Hence definition is usually taken to mean the recital or the precision of +the meaning of a term by means of language naturally apt for that end. +There is no good sense in pretending to effect either one of these ends +by language that lacks natural ability on that behalf. + +Now Mr. Dixon holds, if we understand him, that conventional usage is +of very subordinate consequence in this matter, that it pertains to +the prerogative of an author to throw upon those whom he addresses the +task of gathering his meanings as best they can; that even when he +professes to explain his meanings he need not seek and employ any plain, +direct speech, but may supply his instruction indirectly: may ask his +audience to solve a problem, or to rightly guess what certain hints +mean; may require them to extract the meaning in question out of a set +of assertions that involve the same in a collateral way only. This he +calls “implicit definition.” It is analogous, he tells us, to an unsolved +equation or set of equations in algebra. So far as we are aware no one +can claim priority of the author in respect to this expedient. He seems +to regard it as of great importance, and proposes by its aid to overcome +the difficulties that environ the fundamentals of geometry. + +We think that the author is led to put undue confidence in his implicit +definition, by his peculiar views upon propositions. He holds that all +propositions can, without loss or gain in the meanings as originally +stated, be reduced to statements of strict identity. This done, +propositions can, as he thinks, be operated upon after the fashion usual +with equations. But we submit that between a logical proposition and an +algebraic equation there is a difference that is in general irreducible. +For example take this proposition, Every parent loves children. To alter +this to, Every parent is identical with some [or every] person that loves +children, as is, we think, the prescription of Mr. Dixon, will not +serve; for by reading our identity in the reverse order we have: Some [or +every] person that loves children is identical with every parent. + +Mr. Dixon’s views in respect to terms and to the doctrine of denotation +and connotation depart as widely from the suppositions usually held, +as do his views regarding propositions and definition. To follow out +the consequences of his proposed innovations in any adequate fulness is +forbidden to us by lack of space. We feel sure that further reflection +will lead him to much modification of his doctrines. + + ρσλ. + + +OUTLINES OF A PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. By _Hermann Lotze_. Edited by _E. +C. Conybeare_, M.A. London: Swan, Sonnenschein, & Co. New York: Macmillan +& Co. 1892. Pp. 176. + +This book is an excellent translation of one of the most important works +of a prominent philosopher, who made an unusually strong impression +upon the minds of his contemporaries. Almost every line of this clean, +accurate, and charming translation betrays the translator’s devotion to +the subject, for he has taken the utmost care to bring out the ideas +of the author in the same brilliant style for which Professor Lotze is +justly famous. + +The translator says in the preface: “I have completed and venture to +publish the following translation of Hermann Lotze’s _Lectures upon the +Philosophy of Religion_ in the same hope in which it was undertaken by +my late wife, that it may be of use to some who cannot read the German +original, and yet desire a concise statement of the form in which one +of the clearest-minded of our later thinkers put to himself those great +questions—as to the origin and destiny of the spirit of man, as to life +in general, and the meaning of the material universe—which occupy us +all at some time or another, many of us as soon as we have won food and +shelter for our bodies.” + +We do not share Mr. Conybeare’s and his deceased wife’s enthusiasm for +the author. Although we are not blind to the great deserts of Professor +Lotze, his amiable personality, the depth of his religious and emotional +nature, the breadth of his scholarly erudition, and the brilliancy of his +ingenious, not to say poetical, presentation of philosophical subjects, +we cannot conceive that his work is come to abide. On the contrary, we +consider his philosophy as antiquated in many respects. He considers +problems that originate from a mere confusion of ideas, as being +insolvable in their nature, and attempts the solution of other problems +with inadequate methods. His thoughts still remind us of the ontological +spirit of past philosophies, and his principles are not in agreement with +positivism and the methods of scientific research. + +As an instance, we quote the following passage: “We must ever set aside +any attempt to describe in positive terms, or to construct in thought, +the process by which this absolute being came to be not only one, and +that unconditionally, but at the same time a many of things which +condition one another reciprocally.” + +Lotze still believes in an “absolute unity” as something prior to the +world of reality, and he declares that “We cannot Know or Explain how +this Absolute Unity is also Many” (Sec. XXI); and even if an unconscious +being could be a Many-in-One, yet it could not, according to Lotze, +generate consciousness (Sec. XXV). We do not believe that this problem +is insolvable, and do not, as does Lotze, feel constrained to fall back +on idealism. In fact, our position is so different from Lotze’s that in +spite of the full recognition of his genius, we feel as much severed from +him as if he belonged to ages long gone by. + +Mr. Conybeare’s translation is most certainly an invaluable work and is +indispensable for any English student of Lotze’s philosophy. + + κρς. + + +ON THE PERCEPTION OF SMALL DIFFERENCES, WITH SPECIAL REFERENCE TO THE +EXTENT, FORCE, AND TIME OF MOVEMENT. By _George Stuart Fullerton_ and +_James McKeen Cattell_. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press. +1892. Pp. 159. + +This volume of the Philosophical Series of Publications of the University +of Pennsylvania gives an account of a large number of experiments +made for the purpose of testing the perception of small differences +of movement, of weight, and of light. The most noticeable conclusion +arrived at by the authors, is that they cannot accept any of the received +explanations of Weber’s law. They found from their experiments, by the +method of estimated amount of difference, that “we tend to estimate +the intensity of sensation as directly proportional to the intensity +of the stimulus; consequently, in so far as any deduction concerning +quantitative relations in sensation can be made from such estimation, +the sensation increases as the stimulus and not as its logarithm,” +thus invalidating Fechner’s law. The authors believe also that Weber’s +law does not hold for the perception of movement, as they find that +the error of observation usually increases “as the stimulus is taken +greater but more slowly,” and that it is proportional to the square +root of the stimulus. Accordingly, they substitute for Weber’s law the +following: “The error of observation tends to increase as the square +root of the magnitude, the increase being subject to variation, whose +amount and cause must be determined for each special case.” It is proper +to add, that Professor Fullerton gives only a qualified assent to these +conclusions, on the grounds that mathematicians are not agreed as to the +soundness of the theory upon which the law is based, and that the errors +in question may not be independent errors. He considers, however, the +results obtained by the authors “as sufficiently in accord with the laws +to justify them in holding it tentatively, and subject to criticism.” + +As Fechner’s law rests on that of Weber, and on assumptions which appear +to be incorrect, it also fails, and it follows that the psycho-physical, +physiological, and psychological theories put forward to account for +the supposed logarithmic relation between mental and physical processes +are superfluous. From these conclusions we may judge of the importance +of the experiments made by Professors Fullerton and Cattell, whose work +requires to be carefully studied by all those interested in the special +questions to which it relates. + + Ω. + + +PSYCHOLOGIE DU PEINTRE. By _Lucien Arréat_. Paris: Félix Alcan. 1892. Pp. +LIX, 264. Price, 5 fr. + +The author of this interesting work informs us that it does not aim +at being a natural history of society, nor is it even a study in +professional psychology. This is hardly correct, however, as such a +study must be based on that of individuals, and a writer of M. Arréat’s +reputation cannot treat of a large group of individuals without throwing +light on the psychology of the whole class to which they belong. He +very aptly likens artists as a whole to a large family, the artist in +design to a genus of this family, and painters to a species. This has +its varieties, and it is by the study of these that the author seeks to +arrive at a knowledge of the psychology of the painter. + +Believing that there exists a relation between the temperament and the +qualities of the mind and that this is influenced by heredity, he devotes +the first part of the work to questions of physiology and heredity. The +second part deals with the painter’s vocation, his æsthetic sentiments, +his professional memory, and, as the evolution of art is connected with +the progress of visual analysis, with his sense of sight. Then comes +an examination of the general mental qualities of the painter, his +intellectual character, his various phases of memory and aptitudes, and +the influences which affect his work. The fourth part of the book treats +of the painter’s character, his egoistic and sympathetic traits, his +will, and his moral and social traits. And finally reference is made +to questions of pathology, particularly defects of vision, and to “the +miseries of genius.” + +On all these subjects M. Arréat has many acute remarks supported by +numerous facts, often derived from painters themselves, who thus, says +the author, will be found “living and speaking on each page, just as +they are, and making themselves known by their works, sympathetic or +disagreeable, indifferent or superior, but always interesting.” It is +noticeable, in connection with the important subject of heredity, that +in a list of about three hundred painters almost two-thirds are sons of +painters or of workers in art, and M. Arréat thinks that if more complete +information were obtainable the proportion would be increased. + +In the chapter on the miseries of genius, the author takes exception to +the view expressed by M. Lombroso that the creative inspiration of genius +is, at least in some cases, the equivalent of epileptic convulsion. +That genius may lead to insanity is true; and M. Arréat admits that +remarkable aptitudes have often appeared in a family at the beginning of +its degeneracy. But he adds that painters are for the most part healthy, +and they show hardly any more singularity than other men may have. He +concludes his work with the following words: “Genius makes use of, as +we have sufficiently shown, faculties which are common to nearly all +men, if they are unequally strong and variously distributed with each. +Genius, moreover, in the most elevated sense that it can be understood, +is an exception among artists themselves, and even in genius, the meeting +together of several happy gifts is exceptional. But it is willingly +attributed to all those, whatever may be their art, whose works are able +to touch the human cords that vibrate the most profoundly. Painters +appear to us to compose a well-marked type among such. The reader +has seen the characters of it brought together and discussed in this +volume: he will preserve its living image after having closed the book.” +This in itself furnishes a sufficient recommendation for the perusal +of M. Arréat’s work, which apart from its psychological value, is a +perfect mine of gracefully written information about painters and their +peculiarities. + + Ω. + + +PHYSIOLOGIE DE L’ART. By _Georges Hirth_. Traduit de l’Allemand et +précédé d’une Introduction par _Lucien Arréat_. Paris: Félix Alcan. 1892. +Pp. 247. + +We have now occasion to review a work on a subject much akin to the +preceding—a work which has been translated from the German by the same +author, M. Lucien Arréat, and supplied by him with a very interesting +introduction. This Introduction is in reality a résumé by M. Arréat of +a series of studies by M. Hirth on physiological optics. These studies +are of great importance and are classed by the French editor under the +three heads of Form, Illumination, and Movement. The first of these +comprises the subjects of monocular and binocular vision, the depth and +the bilateral enlargement of the visual field, perspective and identical +points. Under the head of illumination the effect of the “double bath of +light” through the two eyes, the “luminous equation,” and the problems +connected with optical measurement are considered. + +We have not space to exhibit fully the author’s ideas on these topics, +but we can state what are regarded by M. Arréat as the two principle +propositions which give to them their life and unity. One of these +propositions is, that the first function of our dioptric apparatus +consists in furnishing to our central visual organ, which M. Hirth terms +the _internal eye_, material which the latter has to interpret. The other +is that it is necessary to get rid of mathematical concepts, which are +much too rigid to be applied to the delicate problems of vision, and to +fall back on visual sensation such as it is. These propositions imply, +moreover, the admission of an electro chemical process, “without which +the properties of the eye and the marvels of vision remain inexplicable.” +This last conclusion has a bearing on the nature of memory, or the +recollection of the impressions received by the nerves and brain after +the original excitation has disappeared. Thus, M. Hirth suggests that +when we know the physiological procedure in the impregnation of cerebral +molecules, or in their electric charging, memory will be found to be only +the prolongation of the duration of consecutive images. + +The inquiries of M. Hirth throw great light on the difference between +monocular and binocular vision, for information as to which and other +details of his optical theory we must refer our readers to M. Arréat’s +Introduction. This concludes with a consideration of the perception of +light-movement, the reproduction of which is said to require a special +exercise of attention, direct or indirect. Here we have the third degree +of attention, according to the views of M. Hirth, who regards it as +artistic apperception, having its end in itself and capable of being +reproduced through co-ordination of the movements perceived. + +A considerable portion of the second and principal part of this work is +occupied with the psychology of attention and of the related subject +memory. The latter is defined by M. Hirth as “a sum of states of +perception gradually accumulated by the various organs of sense,” and it +is thus not a special faculty of the mind. The mental condition which +results from the action of memory is what is known as _disposition_. This +disposition is transmitted from one generation to another, and becomes +innate as the memory of the species. But it is intimately connected +with the nervous system, and with the brain regarded as the electric +storehouse of memories. It is in accordance with these ideas that the +author explains the transmission of hereditary qualities, the problem +which is at present engaging so much attention. The innate organisation +is a conservation of nervous quality or temperaments associated with the +anatomical disposition of the nervous system, and a certain condition +of electrical tension among the cerebral molecules. The transmission of +ancestral qualities depends, however, on the vigor and good condition of +the germ, and as the organisation received from our earliest ancestors +is the most persistent, the primitive “disposition” will subsist even +without exercise whilst nutrition and circulation assure the continuance +of molecular growth. + +It is with the visual memory that the author is chiefly concerned, and he +affirms that the optical phenomena referred to in the Introduction compel +us to admit the existence in the brain of a central organ, which he terms +the internal eye. In order to determine the position of this organ, which +is the real seat of visual perception, to the exclusion of the retina, +whose function has been overestimated, M. Hirth considers the anatomical +and physiological aspects of the question, and he accepts the conclusion +arrived at by H. Munk in his _Functions de l’écorce cerebrale_, that +perception is the function of a particular portion of the cerebral +cortex. There thus exist two visual centres or “internal eyes,” one +in each convexity of the occipital lobes, as shown in Plate V. of the +present work. Munk’s researches would seem to prove, moreover, that not +only is there a general localisation of visual memories, but that each +memory is fixed in a precise and determined place. The centres of memory +and the centres of perception, which M. Hirth supposes to be simply a +phase of memory, are the same. Moreover attention is connected with +perception, but it is an imperfect state of memory. Attention requires +the expenditure of force, while perfect memory acts spontaneously; and it +is only in this form, “exempt from fatigue, that it becomes the passive +servant of our instincts and sensations, of our voluntary acts, of our +labor.” Memory when perfect is automatic, and according to the theory +of M. Hirth, who does not accept M. Ribot’s monoideistic theory, it is +accompanied with automatic attention, which is the result of a gradual +transformation of “energetic” attention, and attains in a normal adult +an incredible development both in quantity and quality. This _latent_ +attention is required by the existence of latent memory, which is +properly spoken of by M. Hirth as an organic attribute of the highest +moment, seeing that it forms the basis of all individual acquirements. +It would seem to answer, however, to what is often spoken of as the +subconsciousness. + +We can understand how this doctrine of latent memory and latent attention +can have an important bearing on the question of the origin of the +artistic sense, especially as each brain centre may be supposed to have +its own memory, and each fundamental memory its special temperament. +The activity of such centres is due in great measure, as pointed out by +M. Ribot, to nutrition and blood-circulation but M. Hirth adds a third +factor, electrical tension. According to his theory, cerebral activity +rests ultimately on electricity, the invisible currents of which, +maintaining the whole system in a state of tension, are “the inferior +currents of the latent memory,” the brain centres being electrical +accumulators. This idea, which the author applies also to the explanation +of colored visual memories, is open to strong critical objections. In +relation to the particular subject of art, the author shows that the +hereditary transmission of talent depends on the active maintenance +of the special temperament of certain fundamental memories and their +associations, and talent itself therefore depends on the existence of +such a temperament. We here come in contact with M. Lombroso’s theory +of the physiological degeneracy of genius, which M. Hirth opposes with +much force, and we think on the whole with success. This discussion +occupies the last chapter of a work that, as our readers will be able to +judge from the glance given here at some of its leading topics, has a +scientific value quite apart from the special subject of art which it is +intended to illustrate, and which it goes far towards establishing on a +physiological basis. + + Ω. + + +LES ALTÉRATIONS DE LA PERSONNALITÉ. By _Alfred Binet_. Paris: Félix Alcan +1892. Pp. 323. Price, 6 fr. + +In the present work, the accomplished director of the laboratory of +physiological psychology at the Sorbonne has brought together and +systematised all the most reliable phenomena bearing on one of the most +curious subjects of inquiry now engaging attention. Notwithstanding the +disagreement between different experimenters as to particular facts, +all have arrived at the conclusion that, under special conditions, the +normal unity of consciousness may be broken, and that then there is +the production of several distinct consciousnesses “each of which can +have its perceptions, its memory, and even its moral character.” No +one is better fitted than M. Binet to perform the eclectic work he has +undertaken of discussing the recent researches on the alteration of +personality, without regard to the special views of particular schools. + +The subject is considered by him under the three heads of Successive +Personalities, Coexisting Personalities, and The Alterations of +Personality in the Experiences of Suggestion. The two first parts deal +chiefly with phenomena presented by somnambulic and hysteric subjects. +In the third part M. Binet applies the fact of the duplication of +personality to the explanation of the phenomena of spiritism, the term he +very properly gives to so-called spiritualism. He regards the supposed +spirit agent as the subconscious personality of the medium acting under +the influence of suggestion, a view which undoubtedly meets most of the +actual facts of spiritism. + +Notwithstanding the divisibility of the ego, there can be no doubt of +the unity of the personality under normal conditions. The question is +as to the nature of this unity, and the author follows M. Ribot in +affirming that it consists in the coördination of the elements which +compose it. He repudiates the idea that memory is the sole foundation of +consciousness, as not only may one memory embrace different states, but +the same individual may have several memories, several consciousnesses, +and several personalities. For the opinion of M. Binet on other points +we must refer our readers to the work itself, which forms an important +addition to the International Scientific Library. + + Ω. + + +L’HOMME DANS LA NATURE. By _Paul Topinard_. With 101 Illustrations in the +text. Paris: Félix Alcan. 1891. Pp. 350. Price, 6 fr. + +The present is the third work in which Dr. Paul Topinard, the well-known +pupil and successor of M. Broca, the founder of French Anthropology, +has given to the public his general ideas in relation to the science +of which he has made so profound a study. In 1876 he published his +_Anthropologie_, which reflected in great measure the teaching of his +master, Broca. Ten years later, in 1886, appeared his larger and more +important work, _Eléments d’anthropologie générale_, which treated of +the history and methods of anthropology, with various other subjects. +Now Dr. Topinard gives us his matured ideas on “Man in Nature,” by which +is meant physical nature, the object of the present work being to show +the place that man occupies physically among animals, and his probable +origin or descent. It is not surprising that a writer who was the pupil +of Professor de Quatrefages as well as of Professor Broca should declare +himself a supporter of the principle of unity of composition, formulated +by M. Etienne Geoffroy Saint-Hilaire, from which flows that of evolution, +that is the natural derivation of beings from one another. As to the +means by which this is brought about, the author reserves his opinion +until the publication of a further work which he has in preparation. + +Dr. Topinard devotes the second chapter of the present work to a +consideration of the position to be accorded to anthropology in relation +to the other sciences. He declares it to be a pure, concrete science, +essentially anatomical and observatory, and thus distinguishes it from +ethnography, which has to do with peoples under all their aspects. +Both alike are branches of the science of man in its broadest sense. +If anything can be added to the author’s explanation, it is that +anthropology has to do with mankind as a series of _individuals_, while +ethnography is concerned with the _groups_ into which such individuals +are collected. This is not inconsistent with Dr. Topinard’s definition +of anthropology as the science “which studies human races, the human +species, and the place of man in the classification of animals.” For +all the facts on which it is based are derived from the observation +of individuals, and when races are compared with each other, they are +compared as ideal individuals, formed by a generalisation of certain +prevailing qualities, just as mankind by a similar process becomes an +ideal individual, a scientific Adam, who is compared with other animals. +There is an apparent difficulty in relation to psychology which Dr. +Topinard claims entirely for anthropology, but it disappears when we +see how closely he associates psychology with physiology. He says, and +we quite agree with him, that “characters of a psychological nature, +reduced to their most simple expression, whether attributed to human +races, or to the general human type, belong to ordinary physiological +characters; the corresponding anatomical part takes its place by the side +of other physical characters; the theory and explanation of intellectual +operations, of feelings and volitions, belong to the special physiology +of man and to the application of the ideas of general physiology.” + +While accepting as correct the division of anthropology, in its +restricted sense into general and special, as proposed by Broca and +Bertillon, the author thinks it does not conform to the plan which +should be adopted if it is desired to proceed, by the method of analysis +and synthesis, from the known to the unknown. The plan adopted by Dr. +Topinard is, by analogy with the procedures of general zoölogy, to +begin by recalling the general notions applicable to his subject as to +the distribution of animals by groups of varying values, the choice +of characters on which they repose, and the differences between the +race, the species, the family, and the order, these last forming the +pivoting point of his views as to the place of man in classification. +Then commences the study of characteristics, the mode of ascertaining +them, of putting them to use and of appreciating their value, accompanied +by examples, drawn from special anthropology, proper to illustrate the +methods employed. Finally, a parallel is drawn between man and animals, +that a conclusion may be arrived at as to the place of man in the series +of beings, and his probable genealogy. + +All these points are carefully considered by the author, who has framed +a canon of the medium adult man of the European type, a figure based +on which forms the frontispiece to the work. The proportions of this +figure are derived from a comparison of all the most authentic published +measurements, and the canon framed from them conforms closely to that +recognised in artists’ studios, except that in the latter the arm is too +short and the neck too long. + +The most generally interesting subjects discussed by the author are +those connected with the relationship of man to other animals, and +particularly the structure of the brain. Dr. Topinard makes a careful +comparison of the cerebral convolutions of various animals and man, +with numerous illustrations, and he arrives at the conclusion that none +of the characters said to distinguish man from the anthropoid apes are +absolute; all are reducible to a question of degree of evolution, the +superior degree being sometimes found among the anthropoids, and the +inferior degree with man. The cerebral type of the anthropoids is a human +type not completely developed, or the cerebral type of man is a developed +simian type. Man thus undoubtedly belongs to the order of the Primates. +After considering the form and volume of the simian and human brains, +the author remarks that “man alone has a frontal lobe developed in all +its parts, and filling up a large, concave, and deep frontal shell which +externally gives place to the forehead, one of the characteristics of +man.” + +Connected with the form and volume of the brain is the transformation +of the animal skull into the human skull, and the relation of this +transformation to the facial characteristics of man. These points, +and also various questions connected with the bipedal or quadrupedal +attitude, and with the attitude and function of prehension, are treated +in detail, as are certain other distinctive simian and human characters. +A chapter is devoted to a consideration of the important subject of +retrogressive anomalies and rudimentary organs. In his concluding chapter +Dr. Topinard points out the place of man in animal classification, and +refers to the questions of his single or multiple origin, his genealogy +and his future. In connection with the subject of classification, the +author dwells on the fact that man is not the only relatively perfect +animal, and yet that none of the mammalia, which we admire for their +beauty or for their usefulness, equal the monkeys in the possession of a +brain approaching the human type. The brain, the hand, and the attitude +are the three characteristics which especially connect man with the +monkey, and particularly with the anthropoids, and the question has long +been agitated whether in these particulars the last named is allied more +closely to man or to the other monkeys. Dr. Topinard affirms that in +all these particulars the anthropoids should be classed with the other +monkeys, and therefore that man stands alone. + +As to the descent of man, the French anthropologist would seem to agree +with M. Vogt that the type from which man has developed was also the +source of the monkey and anthropoid types, and that it first appeared +at the commencement of the Miocene period, when the earliest monkeys +succeeded to the Lemurian of the preceding Eocene epoch. Dr. Topinard +remarks that this conclusion is agreeable to that of the eminent American +palæontologist, Professor Cope, who makes man descend directly from the +Lemurian without passing through the monkeys and the anthropoids, basing +his opinion chiefly on dentition. The question of the descent of man is +connected with that of the singleness or multiplicity of his origin, +and on this point the author does not express a decided opinion. He +says that all existing types of humanity could be reduced to three, the +Europo-Semitic, the Asiatico-American, and the Negro; if not to two, the +White and the Negro. He adds that, nevertheless, “in losing oneself in +the depths of time, we can conceive the Negro, born the first, giving +birth successively to the Australoid with frizzled hair, to one of the +forms of the Brown stock with straight or wavy hair, and finally to the +white European.” Probably his actual opinion is to be gathered from his +final statement when comparing the order of the Primates to a tree, that +the Lemurians are its roots giving birth to several stems, of which one +is that of the monkey, from which branched the anthropoids, and another, +whose point of contact with the first is unknown, gives the actual human +branch, which runs parallel to that of the anthropoids without being +connected with it, and goes beyond it. + +As to the future of the human race, Dr. Topinard affirms that the volume +of the brain will notably increase, that dolichocephaly will give place +to a universal brachycephaly, and that the cellules of the brain will +be perfected in quality. As the human brain is being thus perfected, +the animals nearest to the human type will disappear, and then man will +really think himself the centre round which the universe gravitates, the +sovereign for whom nature has been created. But even then the anatomist +will bring him to himself by uttering the words of Broca, “Memento te +animalium esse.” This work, which forms volume seventy-three of the +International Scientific Library, is sure to be widely read, and it will +be indispensable to the student of anthropology, who will find in it all +the information he requires on the methods of the science. + + Ω. + + +DIE URHEIMATH DER INDOGERMANEN UND DAS EUROPÄISCHE ZAHLSYSTEM. By +_Johannes Schmidt_. Berlin, 1890. Pp. 56. + +This essay is an important contribution to the problem of the place of +origin of the Indo-Germanic languages. The author is confident that +while nothing certain was known before, he has established at least one +fact which will give us a clue to the solution of the problem. This fact +is the interference of the duodecimal system with the decimal system. +The former is of Babylonian origin, but its effects are noticeable upon +almost all the Aryan tongues. The duodecimal system is not original with +the Goths or with any of the Teutons, which can be proved by the fact +that 60 or a _Schock_ was a round number, but not twelve, the etymology +of twelve (_twa-lif_) being two above a _lif_, which latter means a +certain set. Thus when the Gothic hundred as a rule meant 120, when for a +long time they distinguished between great hundreds (i. e. 120) and small +hundreds (i. e. 100), this was due to foreign influence. For if twelve +had been the basis of their number system, a _lif_ would have meant +twelve and the numerical arrangement would have progressed not in 10 × 12 +but consistently in 12 × 12 or 144. Everything points to the supposition +that the Babylonian _sossos_ is still preserved in the German _Schock_ +(60). Accordingly, says Schmidt, the Europeans must have been exposed to +a strong influence of the sexagesimal system; they must have been nearer +to the centre of Babylonian civilisation than are the valleys of the +Indus and the Eastern Iran. Professor Schmidt considers Penka as refuted +and also all those who regard Europe as the home of Indo-Germans. + +We have to add that the eminent philologist when, discussing the problem +of the cradle of the Indo-Germanic languages does not touch upon the +other problem of the home of the Aryans, the latter being mainly an +anthropological question. Schmidt says (p. 13): “I do not intend to enter +into the problematic domain of anthropology. The original race-characters +of the Indo-Germanic nations, their causes and the home in which they +were moulded, also the physical conditions and mixtures of the races +which speak our languages, undoubtedly can be treated with success +only by the representatives of physical anthropology. But exactly so +the problem of the cradle of the original Indo-Germanic speech and the +evolution of its several languages, as they are known in history, can be +solved only by philologists.” + +This is very true. Perhaps we shall approach the subject with better +success if we learn to distinguish between the anthropological problem +of the origin of the Aryan race and the philological one of the origin +of the Aryan languages. A European origin of the one might not exclude +an Asiatic origin of the other, and it still remains possible, that +European Aryans when migrating south and east developed through their +intercourse with semitic and other races the beginning of a civilisation +which powerfully affected all the Aryans, since there is ample evidence +that even in olden times a lively commerce took place between them. +When Prussian amber is found in Pelasgian graves, why should not the +sexagesimal system of the wealthy nations of the south have spread over +northern countries? + + κρς. + + +LEHRBUCH DER HISTORISCH-KRITISCHEN EINLEITUNG IN DAS NEUE TESTAMENT. By +_Heinrich Julius Holtzmann_. Dritte verbesserte und vermehrte Auflage. +Freiburg, i. B.: J. C. B. Mohr. 1892. Pp. 508. Price, 9 M. + +It has been said that the scientific purpose of an academical text-book +should be to educate the student to scientific independence, and its +practical purpose to make it available for the adherents of all parties +and denominations; and these two purposes are the surer attained the +less the author represents his own conception as that which alone can be +justified. This is the principle according to which Professor Holtzmann’s +_Lehrbuch_ has been written. That he has fully attained his aim, will +not be doubted by those who know his previous and painstaking labors, in +which he proves himself as a theologian fully imbued with the spirit of +science and scientific critique. + +The first edition of this work appeared in 1885, the second in 1886, and +the present and third edition can make the just claim of being carefully +revised and perfected in every respect, so that it is to be regarded as +a comprehensive, concise, and clear review of the critical materials of +the New Testament. There is no doubt that the work as it now stands will +remain the best book for reference of its kind. + +Professor Holtzmann in a brief introduction of seventeen pages sketches +the history and literature of New Testament criticism. The book is +divided into two parts, the first treating the subject in a general way, +the second entering into its several details. In the first part the +author presents us with a history of the text and of its traditions, +explaining the causes of the alterations that were introduced either +unintentionally or by mistake; he reviews the critical apparatus for +text-revision and also the history of the printed and revised editions +up to the present attempt at emendation. Then a history of the canon +is given, from the oldest Christian literature down to the radical +criticisms of the present time. In the second and special part we find +a careful compilation of all the criticisms concerning the single books +and epistles of the New Testament. The first chapter treats of St. +Paul’s epistles to the Thessalonians, Galatians, Corinthians, Romans, +to Philemon, the Colossians, Ephesians, Philippians, the pastoral +epistles; further, the epistle to the Hebrews, which is non-Paulinian, +the two epistles of St. Peter, the epistle of St. Jude, and that of St. +James. The second chapter introduces us into the historical books of the +synoptic gospels and the Acts, where, in a brief review of fifty-seven +pages, we find the same data presented which are more fully explained in +another publication of our author, reviewed in _The Monist_, Vol II, No. +2. + +A new period in the development of Christian literature begins with +all those writings which go under the name of St. John. A discussion +of these books is contained in the third chapter, which treats of the +apocalypse, the fourth gospel, and St. John’s epistles. Not the least +interest attaches to the fourth chapter, the subject of which is the +vast domain of the apocryphal books of the New Testament, the number of +which has, of late, been greatly increased by several new discoveries. +The subject divides itself naturally into apocryphal gospels (Chap. II), +apocryphical stories about the lives and deeds of the apostles (Chap. +III), apocryphical epistles (Chap. IV), and apocryphical apocalypses +(Chap. V). + + κρς. + + +SAMMLUNG VON POPULÄR-WISSENSCHAFTLICHEN VORTRÄGEN ÜBER DEN BAU UND DIE +LEISTUNGEN DES GEHIRNS. By Professor _Theodor Meynert_. Vienna and +Leipsic: Wilhelm Braumüller. 1892. Pp. 253. + +This latest publication of Professor Meynert’s was mentioned in the last +number of _The Monist_ by Mr. Christian Ufer, in the department “Literary +Correspondence.” Since its appearance Professor Meynert has died. His +name has stood foremost for a great number of years in the ranks of +psychiatrical investigators, and his contributions to the science to +which he was devoted, have, perhaps more than those of any other, tended +to its permanent advancement. The activity of his life has extended +over a great number of years, and his labors have not only been applied +to the theoretical interests of his science alone, but have also been +directed—and this is the most important part of every scientist’s work—to +bringing the results of his investigations into connection with the great +body of knowledge at large, and especially to putting in popular form, +and bringing within the reach of the general reader, the facts of the +science which he contributed so much to establish. + +The present lectures date from the year 1868. They owe their origin to +the identification in later years of the interests of medicine with +the interests which every human being has at heart, of resolving the +mysteries of mental operations generally. Their main subject is the +description and investigation of the structure of the cerebral organs; +and the elucidation in the light of such description of the psychical +operations of the brain. The fundamental facts of this province are +not difficult. The main thing required is to free ourselves from the +impediments which artificial thought on this subject has at all times +imported into the consideration of intellectual facts. Our knowledge +in this domain is founded on observation and introspection; not upon +dialectics. Phenomena, simply, are presented to observation, and not +the ultimate essences of forces. So, too, the apparatus of observation +and introspection give only their own phenomena. Their contents are +the animated external world as it affects conscious beings, and +involves, besides intuition, the facts of memory. Unpersonal inherited +memories, which take the form of instinct, are not forthcoming. The +present lectures do not pretend to give instruction in the anatomy of +the brain _per se_, but simply in so far as it is necessary to the +understanding of the brain’s mechanism. All things viewed, all things +intuited are contents of consciousness, which in its limitations to the +sense-impressions of the individual being, we term the ego, or _I_. In +so far as the external world is the intuited contents of consciousness, +the extent of the latter is increased, the ego, the _I_, expands into +the secondary ego, or _I_. In this doctrine of a secondary ego the +problems which grow out of the behavior of individuals towards the +external world are resolved in the single explanation that the ego of +each particular group of things seeks to preserve itself by internal +and external motions. The ego is simply in the possession of itself +in every extension which it acquires; if such extension consists of a +common possession, its desire and tendency to preserve such is simply +explained by the fact that such possession is the ego itself. Amongst the +intuited objects of the ego are to be classed also as component parts of +the secondary ego of every individual, the other living individualities +of the world. From the point of view of this fact, the ego appears +in its social rôle. The present lectures consequently extend to the +consideration of the interactions of brains in society, to culture and +civilisation, and seek to establish the phenomena of these domains as +facts of physical knowledge. The method of physical inquiry is that of +comparison by the alteration of the attendant circumstances in which +the psychical mechanism acts. Physiology bases it on experiment. Nature +also supplies experiments with the results that also embrace phenomena +of culture. In the directions indicated here, the diseases of the mind +afford a comparative means for the investigation of the phenomena +of consciousness, a doctrine of natural cerebral experiments, and a +foundation for a knowledge of the phenomena of mind. + + μκρκ. + + + + +PERIODICALS. + + +ZEITSCHRIFT FÜR PSYCHOLOGIE UND PHYSIOLOGIE DER SINNESORGANE. + +CONTENTS: Vol. III. No. 5. + + UEBER EIN OPTISCHES PARADOXON. By _Franz Brentano_. + + “FLATTERNDE HERZEN.” By _Adolf Szili_. + + UEBER BEGRÜNDUNG EINER BLINDENPSYCHOLOGIE VON EINEM BLINDEN. By + _Friedrich Hitschmann_. + + BEMERKUNGEN ÜBER DIE VON LIPPS UND CORNELIUS BESPROCHENE + NACHBILDERSCHEINUNG. By _Otto Schwarz_. + +CONTENTS: Vol. III. No. 6. + + BEITRÄGE ZUR DIOPTRIK DES AUGES. By _M. Tscherning_. + + OPTISCHE STREITFRAGEN. By _Th. Lipps_. + +CONTENTS: Vol. IV. Nos. 1 and 2. + + UEBER DIE SCHÄTZUNG KLEINER ZEITGRÖSSEN. By _E Schumann_. + + ZUM BEGRIFF DER LOKALZEICHEN. By _C. Stumpf_. + + ZUR KENNTNISS DES SUCCESSIVEN KONTRASTES. By _Richard Hilbert_. + + LITTERATURBERICHT. + +The first article is on an optical paradox. Let two equal parallel lines +be drawn, as in the cut below; then let two small straight lines be drawn +from the extremities of these in such a way that in the first they form +acute angles with the line and in the second, obtuse angles. The first, +it will be seen, appears shorter than the second. What is the explanation +of this phenomenon? + +[Illustration: Cut 1.] + +[Illustration: Cut 2.] + +[Illustration: Cut 3.] + +[Illustration: Cut 4.] + +[Illustration: Cut 5.] + +The author’s answer is, that this phenomenon is a consequence of the +well-known fact that we overestimate small angles, and underestimate +large ones. The presence of the lines has nothing to do with the optical +illusion, as the inserted cut, in which the lines are omitted, shows. +(Cut 2.) The optical illusion is also not present when the lines are +rectangularly attached, as is Cut 3. These facts prove that angular +_inclination_ is the decisive factor. The following cuts show this, the +first in a more and the second in a less marked degree. (Cuts 4, 5.) +The simplest case in which the explanatory factor of this phenomenon +is involved, is that of the estimation of the distance of an isolated +point from the extremities of a short straight line. The estimation of +this distance is dependent upon our estimation of the angle made by +lines drawn from the point to the extremities of a short line. If this +estimation is false, it produces by an exact trigonometrical law, an +error in the estimation of the corresponding distance. This explains all. +In our first figure the factor of illusion is eight times presented: +hence its marked character. + +The second article consists of a rather long series of experiments on the +so-called “flatternde Herzen” by Adolph Szili. + +The third article is on the foundations of a psychology of the blind, +by a blind man, Friedrich Hitschmann, of Vienna. This article contains +a number of interesting facts concerning the sensory, intellectual, and +emotional life of blind people, and affords a great many valuable hints +for the development of the special psychology which the author has in +view. + +The first article of No. 6 of the _Zeitschrift_ is a very exhaustive +one, some sixty pages in length, filled with special and technical +investigations concerning the dioptrics of the eye. When light passes +from one refracting medium into another it is partially reflected at the +dividing surface, and transmits by reflection the objects from which it +has proceeded. This is also the case with the human eye, which is itself +a lens. The refracted pictures are the only pictures of importance to +the possessor of the eye; but just as in the construction of optical +instruments, the reflected or “lost” images are of supreme importance to +the optician in the determination of the properties of his productions, +so these same pictures in the human eye are of supreme importance to +the physiologist and the psychologist. This is the subject of Dr. +Tscherning’s researches. + +In the second article Dr. Th. Lipps discusses some mooted questions of +optics. The first part of the article is a reply to Schwarz’s criticism +in the preceding number of the _Zeitschrift_. The second part is a +review of Franz Brentano’s explanation of the optical paradox, discussed +in the second paragraph of this notice. Lipps declares, that, though +there is some truth in Brentano’s explanation, it is nevertheless an +error to believe that acute angles, _as such_, are overestimated, and +obtuse angles, as such, are underestimated. On the contrary, every time +such errors in estimation occur, there exist particular reasons for it, +the character of which renders the attempt impossible to derive the +estimation of distance directly from the estimation of angles. Lipps +supports his position by actual facts. His chief and most philosophical +remark is, that it is a perilous and improper thing to do to explain +isolated optical illusions by isolated and independent hypotheses; +optical illusions are not exceptions: they constitute a class of +phenomena in themselves, and they should be considered in their natural +and logical connection. (Hamburg and Leipsic: Leopold Voss.). + + μκρκ. + + +VIERTELJAHRSSCHRIFT FÜR WISSENSCHAFTLICHE PHILOSOPHIE. Vol. XVI. No. 3. + + UEBER REAL- UND BEZIEHUNGS-URTHEILE. By _J. v. Kries_. + + WAS IST LOGIK? By _A. Voigt_. + + ZUR PSYCHOLOGIE DER LANDSCHAFT. By _R. Wlassak_. + + DES NIC. TETENS STELLUNG IN DER GESCHICHTE DER PHILOSOPHIE. By + _M. Dessoir_. + +The articles of this magazine are usually very rigorous and learned; and +the contents of the present number are in keeping with its reputation. +Prof. J. v. Kries discusses in an essay, evoked by the recent articles +of Riehl, the subject of “real and relational judgments”; his object +is to establish a classification, and display the logical connection, +of judgments generally. Real judgments are predications concerning +reality or actual facts; relational judgments predicate simple relations +of concepts, etc. The first requisite of a scientific exactness of +thought, says Kries, is the distinction and determination in any given +case of judgments which are real and judgments which are relational. In +the second article, which is long and exhaustive, Dr. Voigt endeavors +to determine the characters and functions of the different kinds of +logic. In view of the great prominence into which algebraical logic +of late years has come, this article is one of considerable interest. +Voigt defines the pretensions and powers of the two opposing systems +of philosophical and algebraical logic, and attempts to set forth the +justification of each. Voigt, as opposed to Husserl, cordially recommends +the study of algebraical logic to philosophers, that both disciplines may +profit by the intercourse. (Leipsic: O. R. Reisland.) + + μκρκ. + + +PHILOSOPHISCHE MONATSHEFTE. Vol. XXVIII. Nos. 5 to 8. + +CONTENTS: Nos. 5 and 6. + + DIE WIRKLICHKEIT ALS PHÄNOMEN DES GEISTES. (Concluded.) By _A. + Rosinski_. + + WESEN UND BEDEUTUNG DER IMPERSONALIEN. By _R. F. Kaindl_. + + ZUR GESCHICHTE UND ZUM PROBLEM DER AESTHETIK. By _E. Kühnemann_. + +CONTENTS: Nos. 7 and 8. + + UEBER DIE GRUNDFORMEN DER VORSTELLUNGSVERBINDUNG. + Psychologische Studie. By _M Offner_. + + ZUR GESCHICHTE UND ZUM PROBLEM DER AESTHETIK. (Concluded) By + _E. Kühnemann_. + + WERKE ZUR PHILOSOPHIE DER GESCHICHTE UND DES SOCIALEN LEBENS + (Second Article: _G. de Greef, Introduction à la sociologie_). + By _F. Tönnies_. + + RECENSIONEN. + + LITTERATURBERICHT. + +A. Rosinski’s contribution is a metaphysical essay on reality viewed as a +phenomenon of the mind. The results of his discussion are these: that the +world of experience, with all its laws and phenomena, and all we assume +to exist _per se_, is referable wholly to ourselves; that the primal +source and cause of all reality is not a something which lies absolutely +outside us, but is simply our own self, or ego. In what sense reality is +reality, the author proposes to discuss in future articles. + +Dr. Raimund Friedrich Kaindl discusses, in the second article, the +character and meaning of the impersonal verbs. The discussion is made +both from the psychologico-logical point of view, and from the point of +view of comparative philology. + +The _Philosophische Monatshefte_ contain, in each issue, a very +exhaustive bibliography of all the works which have appeared during +the month in the provinces connected with philosophy. This department +is conducted by Dr. Ascherson, the librarian of the Berlin University +library, and forms a very important and valuable feature of this +magazine. (Berlin: Dr. R. Salinger.) + + μκρκ. + + +ZEITSCHRIFT FÜR PHILOSOPHIE UND PHILOSOPHISCHE KRITIK. Vol. 100. Nos. 1 +and 2. + +This well-known magazine, formerly edited by Dr. J. D. Fichte and Dr. +Ulrici, is now presided over by Dr. Richard Falckenberg, of Erlangen. +It has reached its hundredth volume, and with the present two numbers +begins a new series. Its reviews and lists of newly published works +are comparatively complete. Its articles, though generally tinged +with scholasticism and chiefly treating of philosophico-historical +subjects, deal, nevertheless, with some modern and living questions; for +example, Dr. Max Schasler’s discussion of the proceedings on the recent +Prussian school law; Dr. Eugene Dreher’s consideration of the law of +the conservation of force; and Dr. Nikolaus von Seeland’s discussion +of the deficiencies of the current theory of force. The other articles +are contributed by A. Wreschner, G. Frege, J. Zahlfleisch, and Robert +Schellwien. (Leipsic: C. E. M. Pfeffer.) + + μκρκ. + + +THE AMERICAN JOURNAL OF PSYCHOLOGY. August, 1892. Vol. IV. No. 4. + +CONTENTS: + + THE EXTENT OF THE CORTEX IN MAN, AS DEDUCED FROM THE STUDY OF + LAURA BRIDGMAN’S BRAIN. By _Henry H. Donaldson_. + + SOME INFLUENCES WHICH AFFECT THE RAPIDITY OF VOLUNTARY + MOVEMENTS. By _F. B. Dresslar_. + + EXPERIMENTAL RESEARCH UPON THE PHENOMENA OF ATTENTION. By + _James R. Angell_ and _Arthur H. Pierce_. + + SOME EFFECTS OF CONTRAST. By _A. Kirschmann_. + + REPORT ON AN EXPERIMENTAL TEST OF MUSICAL EXPRESSIVENESS. By + _Benjamin Ives Gilman_. + + PSYCHOLOGICAL LITERATURE. (Worcester, Mass.: Clark University.) + + +MIND. New Series. No. 3. July, 1892. + +CONTENTS: + + LOTZE’S ANTITHESIS BETWEEN THOUGHT AND THINGS. (I.) By _A. + Eastwood_. + + THE FESTAL ORIGIN OF HUMAN SPEECH. By _J. Donovan_. + + THE LOGICAL CALCULUS. (III.) By _W. E. Johnson_. + + THE FIELD OF ÆESTHETICS PSYCHOLOGICALLY CONSIDERED. (I.) By _H. + R. Marshall_. + + DISCUSSIONS: The Influence of Muscular States on Consciousness. + By _Edmund B. Delabarre_; Dr. Münsterberg and his Critics. By + _E. B. Titchener_. The Definition of Desire. By _Henry Rutgers + Marshall_. Feeling, Belief, and Judgment. By _J. Mark Baldwin_. + + CRITICAL NOTICES. (London: Williams & Norgate.) + + +INTERNATIONAL JOURNAL OF ETHICS. July, 1892. Vol. II. No. 4. + +CONTENTS: + + NATURAL SELECTION IN MORALS. By _S. Alexander_. + + WHAT SHOULD BE THE ATTITUDE OF THE PULPIT TO THE LABOR PROBLEM? + By _W. L. Sheldon_. + + ETHICS OF THE JEWISH QUESTION. By _Charles Zeublin_. + + MACHIAVELLI’S PRINCE. By _W. R. Thayer_. + + ON THE FOUNDING OF A NEW RELIGION. By _B. Carneri_. + + AN ANALYSIS OF THE IDEA OF OBLIGATION. By _Frank Chapman Sharp_. + + REVIEWS. + +Prof. S. Alexander, in his lecture delivered before the Ethical Societies +of Cambridge and London, here reproduced, points out that the growth +and change of moral and social ideals are the result of a process of +mental conflict. Professor Sheldon thinks only a partial solution of the +labor problem is possible until the second coming of men somewhat of +the type of St. Francis of Assisi, “who will sacrifice their personal +opportunities, abandon their station in the world, and go down to +apply their gifts and acquirements to the cause of the lower stratum +of society.” The religious as well as economic opposition to Judaism, +according to Mr. Charles Zeublin, is caused by the exclusiveness of +the Jew, and his ultimate welfare and that of his neighbors requires a +humanitarian treatment within and without Judaism. Mr. William R. Thayer +shows that Machiavelli merely described things as they were in his time, +and deduced the laws which actually controlled the public deeds of +rulers; and that it is now “the duty of all men to sweep away the old +falsehood that rulers and governments are absolved from paying heed to +those ethical principles to which every individual is bound.” According +to Mr. B. Carneri, the living at peace with oneself and one’s fellow-men +is possible only without religion, “because there is no morality without +contentment, and it is the highest degree of discontent to strive for +something beyond this world.” Mr. Frank Chapman Sharp concludes that when +the element of _the good_ is taken out of the conception of obligation, +this degenerates into mere submission to an arbitrary imperative; the +foundation for the distinction between right and wrong must be sought in +something that appeals to us as good, and its ultimate criterion can be +given only by our chosen ideal. (Philadelphia: _International Journal of +Ethics_, 118 S. Twelfth Street.) + + Ω. + + +THE PHILOSOPHICAL REVIEW. July, 1892. Vol. I. No. 4. + + INHIBITION AND FREEDOM OF THE WILL. By _Dr. James H. Hyslop_. + + A CLASSIFICATION OF CASES OF ASSOCIATION. By _Mary W. Calkins_. + + THE ORIGIN OF PLEASURE AND PAIN. By _Dr. Herbert Nichols_. + + ON PRIMITIVE CONSCIOUSNESS. By _Hiram M. Stanley_. + + REVIEWS OF BOOKS. + + SUMMARIES OF ARTICLES. + +The confusion incident to the old controversy about freedom is due, says +Dr. James H. Hyslop, to a failure to distinguish between the _proof_ +of freedom and the _conditions_ of it, that is, “the circumstances +that are necessary to it, or the characteristics that constitute it.” +Freedom consists in “self-initiative and independence of external +causes, whether there be any choice between alternatives or not,” and +inhibition and deliberation bring about both of these circumstances. +Miss Mary W. Calkins rejects the ordinary division into association by +contiguity and association by similarity, and gives detailed summaries +of the fundamental characteristics of consciousness on which association +depends and of the characteristics of association proper; the ultimate +fact of association, whether it be psychical or physical or both, we do +not understand. Dr. Herbert Nichols, in the first part of his article on +the “Origin of Pleasure and Pain,” considers the phenomena of pleasure +and pain associated with the action of the senses, and concludes that +there is no “tangible evidence indicating that pleasures and pains +are inseparable attributes of other senses or polar complements of +each other,” and that separate sensations of pain and of pleasure are +probable. Mr. Hiram M. Stanley regards pure pain as primitive mind, +and pleasure as the polar opposite to it, although they are neither +absolutely essential one to the other, pleasure being traced to “an +intermediary feeling between pain as produced by excess, and pain from +lack as differentiated form.” Consciousness is fundamentally pain and +pleasure as serving the organism in the struggle for existence. (Boston, +New York, Chicago: Ginn & Company.) + + Ω. + + +THE NEW WORLD. + +CONTENTS: Vol. I. No. 2. + + THE SOCIAL PLAINT. By _E. Benjamin Andrews_. + + RELIGIOUS EVOLUTION. By _Minot J. Savage_. + + THE ORIGIN AND MEANING OF THE STORY OF SODOM. By _T. K. Cheyne_. + + THE FOUNDATION OF BUDDHISM. By _Maurice Bloomfield_. + + IMAGINATION IN RELIGION. By _Francis Tiffany_. + + THE NEXT STEP IN CHRISTIANITY. By _S. D. McConnell_. + + THE IMPLICATIONS OF SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS. By _Josiah Royce_. + + HOW I CAME INTO CHRISTIANITY. By _Nobuta Kishimoto_. + + NEW FORMS OF CHRISTIAN EDUCATION. By _Mrs. Humphry Ward_. + +CONTENTS: Vol. I. No. 3. + + THE ESSENCE OF CHRISTIANITY. By _Otto Pfleiderer_. + + ECCLESIASTICAL IMPEDIMENTA. By _J. Macbride Sterrett_. + + NEW TESTAMENT CRITICISM AND RELIGIOUS BELIEF. By _Orello Cone_. + + THOMAS PAINE. By _John W. Chadwick_. + + SOCIAL BETTERMENT. By _Nicholas P. Gilman_. + + THE RÔLE OF THE HISTORY OF RELIGIONS IN MODERN RELIGIOUS + EDUCATION. By _Jean Réville_. + + A POET OF HIS CENTURY. By _E. Cavazza_. + + DIVINE LOVE AND INTELLIGENCE. By _James C. Parsons_. + + BOOK REVIEWS. + + SUMMARIES OF ARTICLES. (Boston: Houghton, Mifflin, & Company.) + + +REVUE PHILOSOPHIQUE. + +CONTENTS: June, 1892. No. 198. + + EXISTENCE ET DÉVELOPPEMENT DE LA VOLONTÉ. I. Existence de la + Volonté. By _A. Fouillée_. + + SUR QUELQUES IDÉES DU BARON D’HOLBACH. By _A. Lalande_. + + ESSAI SUR LA PHILOSOPHIE DE PROUDHON. By _G. Sorel_. + + TRAVAUX DU LABORATOIRE DE PSYCHOLOGIE PHYSIOLOGIQUE. + +CONTENTS: July, 1892. No. 199. + + L’INCONNAISSABLE DANS LA PHILOSOPHIE MODERNE. By _G. + Fonsegrive_. + + LA MUSIQUE D’APRÈS HERBERT SPENCER. By _J. Combarieu_. + + ESSAI SUR LA PHILOSOPHIE DE PROUDHON (concluded). By _G. Sorel_. + +CONTENTS: August, 1892. No. 200. + + ÉTUDE CRITIQUE SUR LE MYSTICISME MODERNE. By _Rosenbach_. + + LE DÉVELOPPEMENT DE LA VOLONTÉ. By _A. Fouillée_. + + LA BEAUTÉ ORGANIQUE: ÉTUDE D’ANALYSE ESTHÉTIQUE. By _A. + Naville_. + + ANALYSES ET COMPTES RENDUS. + +According to M. Fouillée, the principle which tends to dominate +psychology and physiology is the ubiquity of will and of feeling, and +consequently of consciousness. Psychology will end by recognising the +continuity and the transformation of modes of psychical energy, as +physics recognises the continuity and the transformation of modes of +physical energy, and philosophy will see in physical energy the external +expression of will. + +M. Fonsegrive maintains that the rejection of metaphysics as science, +which marks the modern theory of the unknowable, is the consequence of +Kant’s _a priori_ theory as to the origin of our knowledge. The laws of +the mind have no real existence prior to experience, and universal and +necessary notions can be discovered only by mental analysis. In this +manner the existence, and even the essence, of metaphysical beings may +be known, but only of such as experience puts in communication with +ourselves. Thus we know God as the necessary first cause, although our +notion of God is one of negation, of experimental notions. + +After showing that Spencer’s theory of music had numerous antecedents, +and that its conclusions are unacceptable on various grounds, M. +Combarieu affirms that the secret of the musical art is the identity of +the musical idea with the imitation or expression of the real world. All +music contains a double verity; it is the meeting place of the senses +and of the rational world confounded in a unity which is the work of +art, as man is the combination of a soul and a body confounded in the +real unity of life. Spencer is an excessive simplifier, and does not +see the complexity of certain questions, which he seeks to resolve by +undervaluing them. But he has thrown light on one of the aspects of the +musical problem. + +In this final essay on the philosophy of Proudhon, M. Sorel considers the +theory of justice by the light of the notion of free will. He differs +somewhat from Proudhon, and affirms that “the just man is the upright +man such as our ideal conception of antiquity represents him to us, +but transformed by our consciousness as refined by the influence of +Christianity.” In dealing with the real organisation of societies it is +necessary to distinguish between matters of justice and those of right, +which includes that of force, of which war is an application. After +showing the connection of the economic _contradictions_ of Proudhon with +the state of war, and the value of education for the realisation of +equilibrium in the state. M. Sorel affirms that education ought to be +based on manual labor, for the explanation of which science should be +taught; and that instruction should endure throughout life, so that men +can elevate themselves and that an equilibrium may be obtained between +knowledge and industrial needs. (Paris: Félix Alcan.) + + Ω. + + + + +APPENDIX. + +PLATES BELONGING TO THE ARTICLE “THE NERVOUS GANGLIA OF INSECTS.” + + +KEY TO THE PLATES. + + col. ven.—ventral column. + lob. dors.—dorsal lobe. + lob. ven.—ventral lobe. + lob. v. inf.—inferior or lower ventral lobule. + lob. cr.—crural lobule. + con. dors. sup—superior (or upper) dorsal connective filaments. + con. dors. moy.—medial dorsal connective filaments. + con. dors. inf.—inferior (or lower) dorsal connective filaments. + con. v.—ventral connective filaments. + n. cr.—crural nerve. + n. al.—alary nerve. + lob. al.—alary lobule. + rac. sup—upper (or superior) root. + rac. moy.—medial root. + rac. inf.—lower (or inferior) root. + fa. as.—ascending fasciculus. + +[Illustration: PLATE I. + +_Rhizotrogus solstitialis._ First thoracic ganglion. (Horizontal +sections.)] + +[Illustration: PLATE II. + +_Rhizotrogus solstitialis._ First thoracic ganglion. (Horizontal +sections.)] + +[Illustration: PLATE III. + +_Rhizotrogus solstitialis._ First thoracic ganglion. (Longitudinal +sections.)] + +[Illustration: PLATE IV. + +_Rhizotrogus solstitialis._ First thoracic ganglion. (Transversal +sections.)] + + + + + VOL. III. JANUARY, 1893. NO. 2. + + THE MONIST. + + + + +THE DOCTRINE OF AUTA. + + +In the “Scientific Proceedings of the Royal Dublin Society” (Vol. VI, +Part IX, p. 475, 1890), Dr. Johnstone Stoney, F. R. S., published an +interesting and carefully-reasoned paper “On the Relation between Natural +Science and Ontology.” The same author had previously (1885), in a Friday +evening discourse at the Royal Institution of London, discussed the +problem, “How Thought Presents Itself Among the Phenomena of Nature.” +Dr. Stoney’s communications have not (I venture to think) received the +consideration to which they are entitled alike on the score of their +logical consistency, if his premisses and assumptions be granted, and by +reason of the author’s scientific eminence as a physicist. I therefore +propose, first, to endeavor to set forth his monistic _Doctrine of +Auta_; and secondly, to offer some criticisms thereon. Unfortunately Dr. +Stoney’s pages bristle with new technical terms, which, though no doubt +they have been serviceable to him in the attainment of precision of +thought, make his paper hard reading. Some of these I shall introduce; +others which seem less essential to the argument I shall omit. It would +be scarcely fair on the reader’s teeth or on the author’s store to +transfer all these hard nuts from Dublin to Chicago. + +No philosophical discussion of a problem involving perception can be +regarded as complete without the introduction of an orange. Dr. Stoney, +indeed, substitutes a fire; but this, though it shows philosophical +independence, cannot for a moment be sanctioned by any good Berkeleyan. +An orange then, as such, is a phenomenal object formed, in a way we need +not now consider, by the synthesis of perceptions. These perceptions, +themselves synthetic, Dr. Stoney calls “tekmeria,” since they are signs +within my mind that events are happening in a part of the universe +that is distinct from my mind. The phenomenal object is supposed by +men untrained in inquiries relating to the mind to have a non-egoistic +existence—that is, an existence independent of the percipient mind. But +this supposition is found on careful scrutiny to be an error. It is a +product of mental synthesis, and is therefore termed by Dr. Stoney a +“syntheton.” It is also termed a “protheton” in contradistinction to an +“antitheton,” which we shall come to shortly. + +Now if the phenomenal orange is a “syntheton”—that is, a product of +perceptual synthesis—it clearly cannot be regarded as the _cause_ of the +perceptions, through and by means of which it is constructed in mental +synthesis. Here popular thought and ordinary language are apt to mislead +us. For ordinary language is throughout built upon the popular belief +that the objects of the phenomenal world are non-egoistic or independent +_existences_, and, moreover, that they are the cause of the perceptions +which come into existence when we exercise our senses. This is, however, +“to put the car before the horse.” It is to imagine that a structure +built up out of the effects of a thing can be the cause of those effects. +The phenomenal orange is built up of perceptions instead of being the +cause of them. Their cause is therefore to be sought elsewhere than in +the phenomenal world of objects. The orange, _qua_ orange, is therefore +a “syntheton,” and cannot as such be the cause of the perceptions or +“tekmeria,” which go to its synthesis. + +Let us now look at these perceptions or “tekmeria” from another point of +view. They are states of consciousness: they are _thoughts_, if we use +this word in its widest extension to embrace everything of which I or my +fellow-men or the lower animals are conscious. But my own thoughts are, +so long as they last, things that exist. They may be representative of +something outside me, but they _are_ also _real existences_. While they +last they constitute a part of the universe of existing things. They are, +in Dr. Stoney’s terminology, _auta_ (τά ὄντα αὐτά), the very things +themselves. An _auto_ (we shall throughout _italicise_ all that belongs +to this autic order of existence) is a _thing which really exists_, and +in no wise depends on the way we, human minds, may happen to regard it. +Our impressions or beliefs about it may be correct or may be erroneous; +but the term _auto_ means the _thing itself_. + +Perceptions, then, inasmuch as they are thoughts, are _auta_. They +belong, moreover, to that class of real existences which, since they are +woven into the tissue of _minds_ (my mind and the minds of my fellow-men +and of the lower animals) are termed _egoistic auta_. They do not remain, +however, persistent and unchanged; for perceptions come and go and are +modified as they pass like waves over the surface of consciousness. What +causes this coming and going, and these changes in the _egoistic auta_ we +call perceptions? Not, as we have already seen, the world of phenomenal +objects! What then, but other _auta_, which, since they produce effects +upon men’s minds through their senses, may be termed _sense-compelling +auta_? The phenomenal orange is thus a “syntheton” produced through a +synthesis of the effects wrought upon my _mind_ by an autic existence, +called by Mr. Stoney the _onto-orange_. The phenomenal orange is, as we +have seen, a “protheton”; the _onto-orange_ is its _antitheton_ in the +universe of real existences. + +We are now beginning to open up Dr. Johnstone Stoney’s conception of the +relation of the autic _universe_ to phenomenal Nature. Nature is the +totality of phenomenal objects; but corresponding with each phenomenal +object or “protheton” there is an _onto-object_ or _antitheton_; and the +totality of _antitheta_ constitute the _universe_. _Minds_, mine and +those of other beings, constitute the egoistic part of the universe; the +rest of the universe is constituted by _sense-compelling auta_. + +We may liken the _sense-compelling universe_ to a great machine in +motion, and the _tekmeria_ or perceptions which it produces within our +minds to shadows cast by it. The laws of the movements of the machine +are the real laws of the universe—laws of nature are but the laws of +the changes which the shadows in consequence undergo. It is these +shadow laws alone which natural science can reach: the real laws of +the _universe_ of which these are shadows are beyond its grasp. In +Nature the reflective eye of science sees not only phenomenal objects, +but the relations which they bear to each other. But such relations are +themselves phenomenal; they are protheta of which the _onto-relations_ of +the real _universe_ are the _antitheta_. Every space-relation, therefore, +in Nature—for instance, that my foot is at present three yards from the +fender—has a real autic relation in the sense-compelling _universe_, +which is its _antitheton_; an _onto-relation_ between the _onto-foot_ +and _onto-fender_, meaning by these terms the _auta_ which send men the +tekmeria which, when synthesised, furnish these two phenomenal objects. +The space-relations of Nature are but the shadows cast by the _autic +relations_ within the _minds_ of men, and perhaps some other animals. + +But among these shadows there can be no efficient causation. When a +change takes place in the sense-compelling _universe_, the mighty +machine will cast one shadow before the change and another after. The +second shadow will accordingly succeed the first in orderly sequence, +but the relation between the shadows is not the relation of cause and +effect. Accordingly, in the laws of Nature which have been discovered +by scientific investigation, we find abundant instances of unfailingly +concomitant events and of uniformities of sequence, but not one single +instance of cause and effect. There is nothing competent to cause one +body to exclude another from the space it occupies. A statement of +the fact is one of the laws of Nature. If a stone be allowed to drop +in the vicinity of the earth, its downward speed is accelerated by a +perfectly definite law. This law is one of the Uniformities of Nature +which scientific inquiry has brought to light. But within the domain of +Physics there is no cause of acceleration. The facts as to what occurs in +Nature can be observed; the circumstances under which they occur can be +investigated; similar cases can be compared; and the laws to which the +simultaneous or successive events conform may be brought to light. But +here our knowledge ends. Physical science has said its utmost. + +Now all this is changed when we turn to the only field of observation +accessible to us in which we are dealing directly with _auta_. The +_thoughts_ of which _I_ consist, the thoughts which are my _mind_, are +_auta_; a very small group of _auta_, no doubt, in the mighty _Universe_, +but still an actual sample, though a very special and one-sided sample +of what _auta_ really are. Now in the operations that go on in my mind I +do find instances, some few instances, of causes producing effects. The +familiar case of a geometrical demonstration producing in a man’s mind +a belief in the truth of the conclusion is a case in point. Here the +understanding of the proof is the efficient cause of the belief in the +conclusion which accompanies that understanding. A wish to accomplish +something, and a knowledge of how to go about it, both of which are +_thoughts_ in the _mind_, are a part of the efficient cause of subsequent +events, unless counteracted by other causes. A few other examples can be +obtained from the same small field of observation; and this is all that +man, in his isolated position, has any right to expect; for the bulk of +his thoughts are due, at least in large part, to autic causes which lie +outside his mind, and it is there also that those of his thoughts that +are known to be causes, usually exhibit their effects. When perceptions +arise in my mind, the effect indeed is within my mind, but the cause is +beyond it; and when I move my muscles the cause is within my mind, but it +is outside the mind that it operates. The instances are indeed few where +the causes and the effects are both within my tiny group of _auta_, and +it is only in these cases that I can have the process of causes producing +effects under my inspection. + +But since cases can be cited, however few, they suffice to establish the +fact that the relation of cause and effect, in its full sense, does exist +in some instances in the autic _universe_; whereas it has nowhere any +place within the domain of physical science. The relation of cause and +effect among other _auta_ cannot from the nature of the case be proved. +But from its occurrence in that small part of the _universe_ which +we do know, we may fairly assume its occurrence in all parts of that +_universe_. Such an assumption is at any rate justifiable by scientific +method. + +We must now pass to another point. The scientific analysis of Nature +by the physicist has led to an hypothesis which may be regarded as the +utmost simplification of which the shadows cast within the human mind by +the sense-compelling autic _universe_ are susceptible. This Dr. Stoney +calls the Diacrinomenal Hypothesis; according to which Nature is made +up of objects each of which consists of almost inconceivably minute and +swift motions. The phenomenal orange is a group of molecular motions; and +if I bowl it across the table the visible molar motion is a secondary +motion of that group of primary molecular motions which constitutes the +phenomenal object as such. And not only is the phenomenal object a group +of minute and swift motions, but all the steps between that object and +our brain, all that takes place in the air or æther, in our organs of +sense and nerves, can also be represented in terms of motion. And finally +a change consisting of motions takes place in the brain itself, whereupon +we become conscious of thought. That change which would be appreciated +as motions by a bystander who could search into our brains while we are +thinking, we should experience to be _thought_. Thus we find that in +certain cases the _autic existence_ that corresponds with motion, namely +in the motions of our own brain molecules, is _thought_. And the most +probable hypothesis as to the true relation of phenomenal Nature and the +autic _universe_ is that what we have found to be true in some cases is +always true, and that in every case it is _thought_ (or rather a change +in the causal relation in which thought stands to thought) which is the +_antitheton_ of motion; so that the totality of all actual existences, +the _universe_, is in fact identical with the totality of existing +_thought_. Of course all this _thought_, with the exception of that tiny +group that is my _mind_, is as much outside my consciousness as are the +thoughts of my fellow-men and of the lower animals. + +Under this view the _minds_ of men and of other animals are specialised +specks, as it were, of a vast ocean of _thought_, to which they bear a +like inconspicuous proportion to that borne by the few brain motions of +which they are the _antitheta_, to the totality of motions throughout +Nature. Under this view the laws of the _universe_ are the laws of +_thought_. This is a very different thing, be it noted, from saying that +they are the laws of human thought. The laws of human thought bear to +them the same small proportion which the laws of the action of the wheels +of a watch upon one another bear to the entire science of dynamics. The +science of dynamics could never be evolved from a study of these laws. +But perhaps it may not be hopeless for man to attain some sound knowledge +of the laws of cosmic _thought_, inasmuch as we have some few instances +of the way _thought_ acts upon _thought_ open to our investigation in +our own minds, and since this is supplemented by our knowledge of the +physical laws of nature, which are a shadow, a probably complete shadow, +of all the laws of causation which operate throughout the _universe_, +throughout the all-embracing _Mind_ of the great _Autos_. + +Such is Dr. Johnstone Stoney’s conception of the relation of Natural +Science to Ontology. I have presented it partly in his own words, partly +in mine. It has been my conscientious endeavor to put it in as strong and +favorable a light as possible, and not in any way to weaken the strength +of its logical consistency. The main thesis may now be briefly summarised +in the following propositions: + + The phenomenal object is a syntheton or product of mental + synthesis. + + Its efficient cause is a _real existence_ or _antitheton_. + + Nature is the totality of phenomenal syntheta. + + The _universe_ is the totality of autic _antitheta_. + + There is no causation in Nature; but the Uniformities of Nature + are the shadows of the causal Laws of the Universe. + + _Thought_ has no place in Nature: it is part of the autic + _universe_. + + The syntheton of which _thought_ is the _antitheton_ is the + motion of brain molecules. + + It is a probable hypothesis that the _antitheta_ of which the + motions of Diacrinomenal Nature are the syntheta, are _thought_. + + This is the monistic hypothesis, that there is but one kind + of existing thing, viz. _thought_; in contradistinction to + the dualistic hypothesis that there are two kinds of existing + things, _thought_ and _motion_. + +I now pass from the attitude of expositor to the attitude of critic. And +first I will attack a quite outstanding position, namely Dr. Stoney’s +assumption that Clifford’s hypothesis which he supports and extends is +_the_ monistic hypothesis, and by implication that it is the _only_ +monistic hypothesis. In opposition to this I venture to affirm that there +are several forms or phases of monism. I have not space to discuss the +matter; and must content myself with a bare enumeration of some of the +logically possible forms of Dualism and of Monism. + + 1) DUALISM. + + _A._ _Synthetic Dualism_: according to which there are two + entities, the mind and the body; and these + + _a_) either work side by side, without interaction, in + pre-established harmony (_philosophic dualism_), + + _b_) or interact the one on the other (_empirical + dualism_). + + _B._ _Analytic Dualism_: according to which there are two + elements as the result of analysis; _motion_ (with or + without a material basis) and _consciousness_; the two + elements being related in such a way that consciousness is + inseparably associated with certain complex modes of motion. + + 2) MONISM. + + _A._ _Synthetic monism_: according to which there is but + one entity. And this entity may be: + + _a_) The body, of which consciousness is a product + (_materialistic or physical monism_); + + _b_) The mind, of which the body in common with the + world of phenomena is a fiction (_idealistic monism_); + + _c_) The conscious organism, exhibiting certain + transformations of energy which are felt as psychical + states (_scientific monism_). + + _B._ _Analytic monism_: according to which analysis + discloses but one element; and this may be + + _a_) _motion_, of which (or of one phase of which) + consciousness is merely the psychical aspect (_analytic + materialism_); + + _b_) _consciousness_, of which motion is merely the + phenomenal aspect (_analytic psychism_); + + _c_) _x_ (_the unknowable_) of which motion is the + physical aspect and consciousness the psychical aspect + (_monistic agnosticism_). + +Such are some of the forms or phases of monism as compared with those of +dualism. It will be seen that Dr. Johnstone Stoney’s speculations fall +under the head of what I have termed analytic psychism, according to +which the sole ultimate reality disclosed by analysis is consciousness +or thought. So far I have only reminded my readers that this, though +one form of monism, is not the only form. To which Dr. Stoney may very +possibly reply that it matters not to him whether there are five or +fifty-and-five monistic heresies besides the true creed of which he is +the prophet. He is only concerned with the establishment of the true +monistic faith. And as herein I should very heartily agree with him, I +will pass on without delay to criticise an assumption that lies close to +the heart and centre of his hypothesis. + +On the first page of Dr. Stoney’s essay we read: “Let us, for +convenience, call these real existences _auta_—the very things +themselves. An _auto_ is a thing that really exists, and in no wise +depends on the way we, human minds, may happen to regard it.” And on +the second page we read: “My own thoughts are, at all events, things +that exist: they at least are _auta_ so long as they last. They are, +accordingly, while they last, a part of the _universe of existing +things_.” No proof is offered of this latter assumption that my thought, +human thought, is part of the universe of _auta_. I venture to call this +assumption in question. I demand proof of its validity. Nay, I am ready +to go further and roundly assert that my thoughts are not _auta_, and +furnish no evidence whatever as to the nature of such _auta_. I am quite +aware that I may seem to be giving the lie to a direct deliverance of +consciousness; and that it will be said that it is obviously impossible +to deny the existence of thought without at the same time exercising +that, the existence of which is denied—a dictum which contains a very +pretty play upon two different uses of the word “existence.” + +I go back to the orange, without which as a philosopher I am lost. I hold +it in my hand, look steadfastly at it, and drink in with my nostrils +its fragrant aroma. What says consciousness? That the phenomenal object +I call an orange exists. It says nothing about independent existence, +nothing about _auta_. The direct deliverance of consciousness is that +an object-in-consciousness exists. If a “plain man” says that the +orange has a real existence, as such, independent of consciousness, he +is going beyond the direct deliverance. And if a philosopher says that +consciousness has a real existence, as such, independent of the object, +he too is going beyond the direct deliverance. And if, as would seem +to be the case, Dr. Stoney relies on the deliverance of consciousness +for the justification of his statement that “perceptions, while they +last, are _auta_, real existences,” I submit that he is relying on a +misinterpretation of the deliverance of consciousness. + +The existence of the object-in-consciousness is the datum from which +plain man and philosopher alike must start. On this foundation we must +base all our reasonings and speculations. Physical science directs its +attention to the “object” side of the given relation. And it reaches +its “diacrinomenal” result that the orange may for physical purposes +be represented as a group of swift and rapid molecular motions. But +can physics at any stage of its analysis shake itself free from the +“consciousness” side of the relation? Assuredly not. All that it can do +is to represent the object-in-consciousness we call an orange in terms +of other objects-in-consciousness we term molecular motions. Psychology +directs its attention to the “consciousness” side of the given relation. +It analyses the object-in-consciousness into percepts, sensations, and +so forth. But can psychology at any stage of its analysis shake itself +free from the “object” side of the relation? Assuredly not. All that it +can do is to represent the consciousness-of-the-object we call an orange, +in terms of the objects-in-consciousness we term sensations, relations +between sensations, and so forth. + +The relation of the consciousness-of-an-object to the +object-in-consciousness may be made clear by the analogy, which is +something more than an analogy of vision and the visual field. For +clear and distinct vision, a well-illuminated object of vision, and a +healthy organ of vision are necessary as coöperating factors. So, too, +for distinct consciousness a definite object-in-consciousness and a +well-defined consciousness-of-the-object are necessary as coöperating +factors. More than this. Unless there be some object of vision, however +vague, and some organ of vision, however dim, no vision at all is +possible. The coöperation of the two factors is essential. So, too, +unless there be some object-in-consciousness, however vague, and some +consciousness-of-the-object, however dim, no consciousness at all, in +anything like the human sense of the word “consciousness,” is possible. +Here, again, the coöperation of the two factors is essential. _And +neither factor is ever given in experience without the other._ + +Writing as I am, for readers of _The Monist_, I need hardly turn aside to +explain what I mean by an object-in-consciousness. And yet perhaps a few +words on the subject may not be out of place, and may prevent possible +misunderstanding. An object-in-consciousness is not necessarily a +tangible, visible object, like an orange. The yellowness, the sweetness, +the weight, the bare existence of the orange, may each in turn be an +object in consciousness. For the physicist the tangible orange may be +represented in terms of swift, infinitesimal motions; and these, not less +than the phenomenal orange, are objects in consciousness. A conception of +consciousness itself, an imperfect conception, but the best we can frame, +may be an object of consciousness, just as a reflected image of the eye +may be to the eye an object of vision. + +It is generally believed by modern psychologists that all +objects-in-consciousness are derivable by processes of abstraction, +generalisation, and so forth, from the primitive datum of a perceptual +object. And it must be remembered that it is only in abstraction +that we distinguish between the object-in-consciousness and the +consciousness-of-the-object. The two terms of this, for us, inevitable +relation are given in inseparable coördination. But in abstract thought +we can distinguish the inseparable terms; distinguish in thought, that +is to say, what is inseparable in actual experience. To continue the +analogy of vision, we can make the one term focal, while the other term +remains marginal in the field of view. And we can neglect, for the +purposes of our thought and reason, the marginal term. But we cannot +get rid of it. We may deal, as in physics, with motion, neglecting the +consciousness in and through which it is appreciated; but we cannot +get rid of this consciousness. Or we can deal, as in psychology, +with the consciousness, neglecting the object-in-consciousness; but +we cannot get rid of this object. The object-out-of-consciousness and +the consciousness-without-an-object, are alike unknown—or, if the +reader prefers it, unknowable, which he may write with as many capital +letters as seemeth to him good. The common-sense realist believes in +the existence of objects-out-of-consciousness. The analytical psychist +believes in the existence of consciousness-without-an-object. Both are, +if the views here advocated be sound, attributing independent existence +to that which, so far as human knowledge is concerned, has only dependent +or relative existence. + +It is unfortunate that the terms “real” and “reality” should +ever have been applied to the independent existence of so-called +things-in-themselves. I think such terms as Dr. Stoney’s “autic” and +“autic existence” would be far preferable. For the word “real” has a +meaning and force which is quite definite. The orange that I hold in my +hand and see with my eyes is as real as real can be. And if a philosopher +steps in and says, “My dear sir, _that_ is not real! The real reality +is, according to some, mind-stuff or consciousness; according to others, +motion of—well I don’t quite know what, so let us simply call it motion; +and according to others this real reality is unknowable”—I say if a +philosopher steps in and talks like this, one is reminded of Lamb’s +remark on Coleridge. Coleridge had been maundering on, as was his wont, +on “subject” and “object” and all the rest of his second-hand German +metaphysics, when Lamb broke in, with his forcible stammer, in a stage +whisper: “N-n-n-never mind C-c-c-coleridge; it’s only his f-f-f-fun.” + +I repeat that the orange I hold in my hand and see with my eyes +is as real as real can be; and that we have here the standard and +criterion of reality not only for plain men but for philosophers. +In the perceptual object we have reality given in its clearest, +fullest, and most forcible form. Every step in the analysis of the +perceptual object-in-consciousness; every step in the analysis of the +consciousness-of-the-object takes us so far further from reality at its +best. The orange as an object-in-consciousness is far more real to me +than either the swift infinitesimal motions of the physicist, or the +“syntheton” of related and integrated sensations of the psychologist. +And when we reach the autic existence which is supposed to underlie both +motion and consciousness, we seem to get just as far as it is possible +for the human mind to get from the real orange with which we started. +And yet it is to this autic existence that metaphysicians apply the term +“real” in a different sense. For so far I have used the word “real” for +that which is given in experience. But metaphysically the word “real” +is used to indicate independence of experience. I repeat that for this +independent existence some such word as Dr. Stoney’s “autic” would be far +better and less misleading. It would emphasise the distinction between +_real_, that is to say given in direct experience, and _autic_, that is +to say independent of experience. + +Accepting at any rate for our present purpose this distinction, we +have as coördinate realities the object-in-consciousness and the +consciousness-of-the-object. And these two are only different aspects of +the one great reality, the reality of experience. Of these two aspects +neither is more real than the other. The object-in-consciousness is every +bit as real as the consciousness-of-the-object; the orange as real as our +perception thereof. Both are intensely and vitally real; but—here I am in +opposition to Dr. Stoney—_neither is autic_. I can find no warranty for +such autic existence in direct experience or the so-called deliverance of +consciousness. Nor am I aware of any process of reasoning by which it can +be demonstrated. + +But, it may be said, is it not in accordance with scientific method to +make an assumption and then see how far such assumption is justified by +the results it enables us to reach? Assuredly such procedure is allowable +and often fruitful. It is not on such grounds, however, that Dr. Stoney, +if I rightly understand him, bases his doctrine of the psychical nature +of _auta_. Let us, nevertheless, pay a moment’s attention to this +assumption and the correlative assumption of analytic materialism. +Consciousness and matter-in-motion (or bare motion perhaps) are the +ultimate elements reached by the psychologist on the one hand and the +physicist on the other. Neither, if he knows his business, pretends by +this analysis to have reached autic existence. But it is open to each +to make an assumption. The materialist says: I assume that motion is +the true autic existence, of which, under appropriate conditions, human +consciousness is merely a psychical aspect. The psychist says: I assume +that consciousness is the true autic existence, of which motion is +merely the phenomenal aspect. I confess that if I were forced to choose +one of these two, (which fortunately I am not,) I should elect to throw +in my lot with the materialists. For if justification by results is +to be the criterion, I hold that the results the materialists have to +show far outweigh any results which the analytic psychists can produce. +But the fact of the matter is that in neither case do the results flow +from the autic assumption. All the results are equally valid for the +student who holds fast to the relativity of object-in-consciousness +to consciousness-of-the-object. Since therefore the assumption is +valueless so far as practical results are concerned, and since it is +somewhat repugnant to sound reason to assume that either term of a given +relationship is the same out of relationship as it is in relation to its +fellow, I contend, as against both materialist and psychist, that it +fails to make good its claim to acceptance. + +What shall we say then of _auta_ or _things in themselves_? Simply that +we do not know anything about them—that they are outside the pale of +human knowledge. If we even say they exist we are using the word “exist” +in an autic and unreal sense. It is phenomenal Nature which constitutes +the real Universe; of its autic _shadow_, supposing that there be such a +_shadow_, we know nothing. Need we then stay to criticise this unknown +_shadow_? + +Even if we take Dr. Johnstone Stoney’s hypothesis as it stands we +find a marked distinction between the sense-compelling _auta_ and the +egoistic _auta_, or between the sense-compelling aspect of _auta_ +and the egoistic or perceptive aspect. How is this distinction to be +explained and accounted for? I can see no answer to this question save +that the distinction is a matter of experience. Why not, then, trust +experience fully? Why go beyond it at all? Why not say that both the +sense-compelling aspect and the perceptive aspect are part of the +relation which is given in experience? If Dr. Stoney could only see his +way to this concession and could be led to adopt scientific monism, which +is based on relativity, he would still secure all that is valuable in +his hypothesis, and at the same time get rid of the difficulties which as +it stands encumber it. But it would no longer be a doctrine of _auta_. + +For scientific monism is not a doctrine of _auta_ but a doctrine of +phenomena—phenomena regarded not only in their physical but also in their +psychological aspect. Unifying these two diverse aspects, it contends +that the conscious organism is one and indivisible; that it is a product +of evolution; that in its physical or material aspect this evolution has +given rise to the body and brain; that in its psychical or immaterial +aspect it has given rise to the mind and human consciousness; that these +two aspects, though distinguishable in analytic thought, are inseparable +in phenomenal existence; that just as the complex modes of energy of +the human brain have been evolved from the simpler modes of energy that +are found throughout organic and inorganic nature, so too the complex +modes of consciousness of the human mind have been evolved from the +simpler modes of infra-consciousness[19] that are associated with merely +organic and inorganic modes of energy. The last clause is admittedly +hypothetical. But it is submitted that the hypothesis is one that is +founded on strictly scientific and in no sense metaphysical or autic +analysis. + + C. LLOYD MORGAN. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[19] See _Mental Evolution_ in _The Monist_, Vol. II, No. 2 (Jan. 1892), +p. 161. + + + + +EVOLUTIONARY LOVE. + + +AT FIRST BLUSH. COUNTER-GOSPELS. + +Philosophy, when just escaping from its golden pupa-skin, mythology, +proclaimed the great evolutionary agency of the universe to be Love. Or, +since this pirate-lingo, English, is poor in such-like words, let us say +Eros, the exuberance-love. Afterwards, Empedocles set up passionate-love +and hate as the two coördinate powers of the universe. In some passages, +kindness is the word. But certainly, in any sense in which it has an +opposite, to be senior partner of that opposite, is the highest position +that love can attain. Nevertheless, the ontological gospeller, in whose +days those views were familiar topics, made the One Supreme Being, by +whom all things have been made out of nothing, to be cherishing-love. +What, then, can he say to hate? Never mind, at this time, what the scribe +of the apocalypse, if he were John, stung at length by persecution into +a rage unable to distinguish suggestions of evil from visions of heaven, +and so become the Slanderer of God to men, may have dreamed. The question +is rather what the sane John thought, or ought to have thought, in order +to carry out his idea consistently. His statement that God is love +seems aimed at that saying of Ecclesiastes that we cannot tell whether +God bears us love or hatred. “Nay,” says John, “we can tell, and very +simply! We know and have trusted the love which God hath in us. God is +love.” There is no logic in this, unless it means, that God loves all +men. In the preceding paragraph, he had said, “God is light and in him +is no darkness at all.” We are to understand, then, that as darkness +is merely the defect of light, so hatred and evil are mere imperfect +stages of ἀγάπη and ἀγαθόν, love and loveliness. This concords with +that utterance reported in John’s Gospel: “God sent not the Son into the +world to judge the world; but that the world should through him be saved. +He that believeth on him is not judged: he that believeth not hath been +judged already.... And this is the judgment, that the light is come into +the world, and that men loved darkness rather than the light.” That is +to say, God visits no punishment on them; they punish themselves, by +their natural affinity for the defective. Thus, the love that God is, is +not a love of which hatred is the contrary; otherwise Satan would be a +coördinate power; but it is a love which embraces hatred as an imperfect +stage of it, an Anteros—yea, even needs hatred and hatefulness as its +object. For self-love is no love; so if God’s self is love, that which he +loves must be defect of love; just as a luminary can light up only that +which otherwise would be dark. Henry James, the Swedenborgian, says: “It +is no doubt very tolerable finite or creaturely love to love one’s own in +another, to love another for his conformity to one’s self: but nothing +can be in more flagrant contrast with the creative Love, all whose +tenderness _ex vi termini_ must be reserved only for what intrinsically +is most bitterly hostile and negative to itself.” This is from “Substance +and Shadow: an Essay on the Physics of Creation.” It is a pity he had +not filled his pages with things like this, as he was able easily to do, +instead of scolding at his reader and at people generally, until the +physics of creation was well-nigh forgot. I must deduct, however, from +what I just wrote: obviously no genius could make his every sentence as +sublime as one which discloses for the problem of evil its everlasting +solution. + +The movement of love is circular, at one and the same impulse projecting +creations into independency and drawing them into harmony. This seems +complicated when stated so; but it is fully summed up in the simple +formula we call the Golden Rule. This does not, of course, say, Do +everything possible to gratify the egoistic impulses of others, but +it says, Sacrifice your own perfection to the perfectionment of your +neighbor. Nor must it for a moment be confounded with the Benthamite, or +Helvetian, or Beccarian motto, Act for the greatest good of the greatest +number. Love is not directed to abstractions but to persons; not to +persons we do not know, nor to numbers of people, but to our own dear +ones, our family and neighbors. “Our neighbor,” we remember, is one whom +we live near, not locally perhaps, but in life and feeling. + +Everybody can see that the statement of St. John is the formula of an +evolutionary philosophy, which teaches that growth comes only from love, +from—I will not say self-_sacrifice_, but from the ardent impulse to +fulfil another’s highest impulse. Suppose, for example, that I have an +idea that interests me. It is my creation. It is my creature; for as +shown in last July’s _Monist_, it is a little person. I love it; and I +will sink myself in perfecting it. It is not by dealing out cold justice +to the circle of my ideas that I can make them grow, but by cherishing +and tending them as I would the flowers in my garden. The philosophy we +draw from John’s gospel is that this is the way mind develops; and as +for the cosmos, only so far as it yet is mind, and so has life, is it +capable of further evolution. Love, recognising germs of loveliness in +the hateful, gradually warms it into life, and makes it lovely. That is +the sort of evolution which every careful student of my essay “The Law of +Mind,” must see that _synechism_ calls for. + +The nineteenth century is now fast sinking into the grave, and we all +begin to review its doings and to think what character it is destined to +bear as compared with other centuries in the minds of future historians. +It will be called, I guess, the Economical Century; for political +economy has more direct relations with all the branches of its activity +than has any other science. Well, political economy has its formula of +redemption, too. It is this: Intelligence in the service of greed ensures +the justest prices, the fairest contracts, the most enlightened conduct +of all the dealings between men, and leads to the _summum bonum_, food +in plenty and perfect comfort. Food for whom? Why, for the greedy master +of intelligence. I do not mean to say that this is one of the legitimate +conclusions of political economy, the scientific character of which I +fully acknowledge. But the study of doctrines, themselves true, will +often temporarily encourage generalisations extremely false, as the study +of physics has encouraged necessitarianism. What I say, then, is that +the great attention paid to economical questions, during our century has +induced an exaggeration of the beneficial effects of greed and of the +unfortunate results of sentiment, until there has resulted a philosophy +which comes unwittingly to this, that greed is the great agent in the +elevation of the human race and in the evolution of the universe. + +I open a handbook of political economy,—the most typical and middling one +I have at hand,—and there find some remarks of which I will here make a +brief analysis. I omit qualifications, sops thrown to Cerberus, phrases +to placate Christian prejudice, trappings which serve to hide from author +and reader alike the ugly nakedness of the greed-god. But I have surveyed +my position. The author enumerates “three motives to human action: + +The love of self; + +The love of a limited class having common interests and feelings with +one’s self; + +The love of mankind at large.” + +Remark, at the outset, what obsequious title is bestowed on greed,—“the +love of self.” Love! The second motive _is_ love. In place of “a limited +class” put “certain persons,” and you have a fair description. Taking +“class” in the old-fashioned sense, a weak kind of love is described. In +the sequel, there seems to be some haziness as to the delimitation of +this motive. By the love of mankind at large, the author does not mean +that deep, subconscious passion that is properly so called; but merely +public-spirit, perhaps little more than a fidget about pushing ideas. The +author proceeds to a comparative estimate of the worth of these motives. +Greed, says he, but using, of course, another word, “is not so great an +evil as is commonly supposed.... Every man can promote his own interests +a great deal more effectively than he can promote any one else’s, or than +any one else can promote his.” Besides, as he remarks on another page, +the more miserly a man is, the more good he does. The second motive “is +the most dangerous one to which society is exposed.” Love is all very +pretty: “no higher or purer source of human happiness exists.” (Ahem!) +But it is a “source of enduring injury,” and, in short, should be +overruled by something wiser. What is this wiser motive? We shall see. + +As for public spirit, it is rendered nugatory by the “difficulties in +the way of its effective operation.” For example, it might suggest +putting checks upon the fecundity of the poor and the vicious; and “no +measure of repression would be too severe,” in the case of criminals. +The hint is broad. But unfortunately, you cannot induce legislatures to +take such measures, owing to the pestiferous “tender sentiments of man +towards man.” It thus appears, that public-spirit, or Benthamism, is +not strong enough to be the effective tutor of love, (I am skipping to +another page,) which must therefore be handed over to “the motives which +animate men in the pursuit of wealth,” in which alone we can confide, and +which “are in the highest degree beneficent.”[20] Yes, in the “highest +degree” without exception are they beneficent to the being upon whom all +their blessings are poured out, namely, the Self, whose “sole object,” +says the writer in accumulating wealth is his individual “sustenance and +enjoyment.” Plainly, the author holds the notion that some other motive +might be in a higher degree beneficent even for the man’s self to be a +paradox wanting in good sense. He seeks to gloze and modify his doctrine; +but he lets the perspicacious reader see what his animating principle +is; and when, holding the opinions I have repeated, he at the same time +acknowledges that society could not exist upon a basis of intelligent +greed alone, he simply pigeonholes himself as one of the eclectics of +inharmonious opinions. He wants his mammon flavored with a _soupçon_ of +god. + +The economists accuse those to whom the enunciation of their atrocious +villainies communicates a thrill of horror of being _sentimentalists_. It +may be so: I willingly confess to having some tincture of sentimentalism +in me, God be thanked! Ever since the French Revolution brought this +leaning of thought into ill-repute,—and not altogether undeservedly, I +must admit, true, beautiful, and good as that great movement was,—it has +been the tradition to picture sentimentalists as persons incapable of +logical thought and unwilling to look facts in the eyes. This tradition +may be classed with the French tradition that an Englishman says _godam_ +at every second sentence, the English tradition that an American talks +about “Britishers,” and the American tradition that a Frenchman carries +forms of etiquette to an inconvenient extreme, in short with all those +traditions which survive simply because the men who use their eyes and +ears are few and far between. Doubtless some excuse there was for all +those opinions in days gone by; and sentimentalism, when it was the +fashionable amusement to spend one’s evenings in a flood of tears over +a woeful performance on a candle-litten stage, sometimes made itself a +little ridiculous. But what after all is sentimentalism? It is an _ism_, +a doctrine, namely, the doctrine that great respect should be paid to +the natural judgments of the sensible heart. This is what sentimentalism +precisely is; and I entreat the reader to consider whether to contemn +is not of all blasphemies the most degrading. Yet the nineteenth +century has steadily contemned it, because it brought about the Reign +of Terror. That it did so is true. Still, the whole question is one of +_how much_. The reign of terror was very bad; but now the Gradgrind +banner has been this century long flaunting in the face of heaven, with +an insolence to provoke the very skies to scowl and rumble. Soon a flash +and quick peal will shake economists quite out of their complacency, too +late. The twentieth century, in its latter half, shall surely see the +deluge-tempest burst upon the social order,—to clear upon a world as +deep in ruin as that greed-philosophy has long plunged it into guilt. No +post-thermidorian high jinks then! + +So a miser is a beneficent power in a community, is he? With the same +reason precisely, only in a much higher degree, you might pronounce +the Wall Street sharp to be a good angel, who takes money from +heedless persons not likely to guard it properly, who wrecks feeble +enterprises better stopped, and who administers wholesome lessons to +unwary scientific men, by passing worthless checks upon them,—as you +did, the other day, to me, my millionaire Master in glomery, when you +thought you saw your way to using my process without paying for it, +and of so bequeathing to your children something to boast of their +father about,—and who by a thousand wiles puts money at the service of +intelligent greed, in his own person. Bernard Mandeville, in his “Fable +of the Bees,” maintains that private vices of all descriptions are +public benefits, and proves it, too, quite as cogently as the economist +proves his point concerning the miser. He even argues, with no slight +force, that but for vice civilisation would never have existed. In +the same spirit, it has been strongly maintained and is to-day widely +believed that all acts of charity and benevolence, private and public, go +seriously to degrade the human race. + +The “Origin of Species” of Darwin merely extends politico-economical +views of progress to the entire realm of animal and vegetable life. The +vast majority of our contemporary naturalists hold the opinion that the +true cause of those exquisite and marvellous adaptations of nature for +which, when I was a boy, men used to extol the divine wisdom is that +creatures are so crowded together that those of them that happen to +have the slightest advantage force those less pushing into situations +unfavorable to multiplication or even kill them before they reach the +age of reproduction. Among animals, the mere mechanical individualism is +vastly reënforced as a power making for good by the animal’s ruthless +greed. As Darwin puts it on his title-page, it is the struggle for +existence; and he should have added for his motto: Every individual for +himself, and the Devil take the hindmost! Jesus, in his sermon on the +Mount, expressed a different opinion. + +Here, then, is the issue. The gospel of Christ says that progress comes +from every individual merging his individuality in sympathy with his +neighbors. On the other side, the conviction of the nineteenth century is +that progress takes place by virtue of every individual’s striving for +himself with all his might and trampling his neighbor under foot whenever +he gets a chance to do so. This may accurately be called the Gospel of +Greed. + +Much is to be said on both sides. I have not concealed, I could not +conceal, my own passionate predilection. Such a confession will probably +shock my scientific brethren. Yet the strong feeling is in itself, I +think, an argument of some weight in favor of the agapastic theory of +evolution,—so far as it may be presumed to bespeak the normal judgment of +the Sensible Heart. Certainly, if it were possible to believe in agapasm +without believing it warmly, that fact would be an argument against the +truth of the doctrine. At any rate, since the warmth of feeling exists, +it should on every account be candidly confessed; especially since it +creates a liability to one-sidedness on my part against which it behooves +my readers and me to be severally on our guard. + + +SECOND THOUGHTS. IRENICA. + +Let us try to define the logical affinities of the different theories +of evolution. Natural selection, as conceived by Darwin, is a mode +of evolution in which the only positive agent of change in the whole +passage from moner to man is fortuitous variation. To secure advance in +a definite direction chance has to be seconded by some action that shall +hinder the propagation of some varieties or stimulate that of others. +In natural selection, strictly so called, it is the crowding out of the +weak. In sexual selection, it is the attraction of beauty, mainly. + +The “Origin of Species” was published toward the end of the year 1859. +The preceding years since 1846 had been one of the most productive +seasons,—or if extended so as to cover the great book we are considering, +_the_ most productive period of equal length in the entire history of +science from its beginnings until now. The idea that chance begets order, +which is one of the corner-stones of modern physics (although Dr. Carus +considers it “the weakest point in Mr. Peirce’s system,”) was at that +time put into its clearest light. Quetelet had opened the discussion +by his “Letters on the Application of Probabilities to the Moral and +Political Sciences,” a work which deeply impressed the best minds of that +day, and to which Sir John Herschel had drawn general attention in Great +Britain. In 1857, the first volume of Buckle’s “History of Civilisation” +had created a tremendous sensation, owing to the use he made of this same +idea. Meantime, the “statistical method” had, under that very name, been +applied with brilliant success to molecular physics. Dr. John Herapath, +an English chemist, had in 1847 outlined the kinetical theory of gases +in his “Mathematical Physics”; and the interest the theory excited had +been refreshed in 1856 by notable memoirs by Clausius and Krönig. In +the very summer preceding Darwin’s publication, Maxwell had read before +the British Association the first and most important of his researches +on this subject. The consequence was that the idea that fortuitous +events may result in a physical law, and further that this is the way +in which those laws which appear to conflict with the principle of the +conservation of energy are to be explained, had taken a strong hold upon +the minds of all who were abreast of the leaders of thought. By such +minds, it was inevitable that the “Origin of Species,” whose teaching +was simply the application of the same principle to the explanation of +another “non-conservative” action, that of organic development, should +be hailed and welcomed. The sublime discovery of the conservation of +energy by Helmholtz in 1847, and that of the mechanical theory of heat +by Clausius and by Rankine, independently, in 1850, had decidedly +overawed all those who might have been inclined to sneer at physical +science. Thereafter a belated poet still harping upon “science peddling +with the names of things” would fail of his effect. Mechanism was now +known to be all, or very nearly so. All this time, utilitarianism,—that +improved substitute for the Gospel,—was in its fullest feather; and was +a natural ally of an individualistic theory. Dean Mansell’s injudicious +advocacy had led to mutiny among the bondsmen of Sir William Hamilton, +and the nominalism of Mill had profited accordingly; and although the +real science that Darwin was leading men to was sure some day to give a +death-blow to the sham-science of Mill, yet there were several elements +of the Darwinian theory which were sure to charm the followers of Mill. +Another thing: anæsthetics had been in use for thirteen years. Already, +people’s acquaintance with suffering had dropped off very much; and +as a consequence, that unlovely hardness by which our times are so +contrasted with those that immediately preceded them, had already set +in, and inclined people to relish a ruthless theory. The reader would +quite mistake the drift of what I am saying if he were to understand me +as wishing to suggest that any of those things (except perhaps Malthus) +influenced Darwin himself. What I mean is that his hypothesis, while +without dispute one of the most ingenious and pretty ever devised, and +while argued with a wealth of knowledge, a strength of logic, a charm +of rhetoric, and above all with a certain magnetic genuineness that was +almost irresistible, did not appear, at first, at all near to being +proved; and to a sober mind its case looks less hopeful now than it +did twenty years ago; but the extraordinarily favorable reception it +met with was plainly owing, in large measure, to its ideas being those +toward which the age was favorably disposed, especially, because of the +encouragement it gave to the greed-philosophy. + +Diametrically opposed to evolution by chance, are those theories which +attribute all progress to an inward necessary principle, or other form of +necessity. Many naturalists have thought that if an egg is destined to +go through a certain series of embryological transformations, from which +it is perfectly certain not to deviate, and if in geological time almost +exactly the same forms appear successively, one replacing another in the +same order, the strong presumption is that this latter succession was as +predeterminate and certain to take place as the former. So, Nägeli, for +instance, conceives that it somehow follows from the first law of motion +and the peculiar, but unknown, molecular constitution of protoplasm, +that forms must complicate themselves more and more. Kölliker makes one +form generate another after a certain maturation has been accomplished. +Weismann, too, though he calls himself a Darwinian, holds that nothing +is due to chance, but that all forms are simple mechanical resultants +of the heredity from two parents.[21] It is very noticeable that all +these different sectaries seek to import into their science a mechanical +necessity to which the facts that come under their observation do not +point. Those geologists who think that the variation of species is due +to cataclasmic alterations of climate or of the chemical constitution of +the air and water are also making mechanical necessity chief factor of +evolution. + +Evolution by sporting and evolution by mechanical necessity are +conceptions warring against one another. A third method, which supersedes +their strife, lies enwrapped in the theory of Lamarck. According to +his view, all that distinguishes the highest organic forms from the +most rudimentary has been brought about by little hypertrophies or +atrophies which have affected individuals early in their lives, and have +been transmitted to their offspring. Such a transmission of acquired +characters is of the general nature of habit-taking, and this is the +representative and derivative within the physiological domain of the +law of mind. Its action is essentially dissimilar to that of a physical +force; and that is the secret of the repugnance of such necessitarians +as Weismann to admitting its existence. The Lamarckians further suppose +that although some of the modifications of form so transmitted were +originally due to mechanical causes, yet the chief factors of their first +production were the straining of endeavor and the overgrowth superinduced +by exercise, together with the opposite actions. Now, endeavor, since it +is directed toward an end, is essentially psychical, even though it be +sometimes unconscious; and the growth due to exercise, as I argued in +my last paper, follows a law of a character quite contrary to that of +mechanics. + +Lamarckian evolution is thus evolution by the force of habit.—That +sentence slipped off my pen while one of those neighbors whose function +in the social cosmos seems to be that of an Interrupter, was asking me +a question. Of course, it is nonsense. Habit is mere inertia, a resting +on one’s oars, not a propulsion. Now it is energetic projaculation +(lucky there is such a word, or this untried hand might have been put to +inventing one) by which in the typical instances of Lamarckian evolution +the new elements of form are first created. Habit, however, forces them +to take practical shapes, compatible with the structures they affect, and +in the form of heredity and otherwise, gradually replaces the spontaneous +energy that sustains them. Thus, habit plays a double part; it serves to +establish the new features, and also to bring them into harmony with the +general morphology and function of the animals and plants to which they +belong. But if the reader will now kindly give himself the trouble of +turning back a page or two, he will see that this account of Lamarckian +evolution coincides with the general description of the action of love, +to which, I suppose, he yielded his assent. + +Remembering that all matter is really mind, remembering, too, the +continuity of mind, let us ask what aspect Lamarckian evolution takes +on within the domain of consciousness. Direct endeavor can achieve +almost nothing. It is as easy by taking thought to add a cubit to one’s +stature, as it is to produce an idea acceptable to any of the Muses by +merely straining for it, before it is ready to come. We haunt in vain +the sacred well and throne of Mnemosyne; the deeper workings of the +spirit take place in their own slow way, without our connivance. Let but +their bugle sound, and we may then make our effort, sure of an oblation +for the altar of whatsoever divinity its savor gratifies. Besides this +inward process, there is the operation of the environment, which goes +to break up habits destined to be broken up and so to render the mind +lively. Everybody knows that the long continuance of a routine of habit +makes us lethargic, while a succession of surprises wonderfully brightens +the ideas. Where there is a motion, where history is a-making, there is +the focus of mental activity, and it has been said that the arts and +sciences reside within the temple of Janus, waking when that is open, +but slumbering when it is closed. Few psychologists have perceived how +fundamental a fact this is. A portion of mind abundantly commissured to +other portions works almost mechanically. It sinks to the condition of +a railway junction. But a portion of mind almost isolated, a spiritual +peninsula, or _cul-de-sac_, is like a railway terminus. Now mental +commissures are habits. Where they abound, originality is not needed and +is not found; but where they are in defect, spontaneity is set free. +Thus, the first step in the Lamarckian evolution of mind is the putting +of sundry thoughts into situations in which they are free to play. As to +growth by exercise, I have already shown, in discussing “Man’s Glassy +Essence,” in last October’s _Monist_, what its _modus operandi_ must be +conceived to be, at least, until a second equally definite hypothesis +shall have been offered. Namely, it consists of the flying asunder of +molecules, and the reparation of the parts by new matter. It is, thus, a +sort of reproduction. It takes place only during exercise, because the +activity of protoplasm consists in the molecular disturbance which is +its necessary condition. Growth by exercise takes place also in the mind. +Indeed, that is what it is to _learn_. But the most perfect illustration +is the development of a philosophical idea by being put into practice. +The conception which appeared, at first, as unitary, splits up into +special cases; and into each of these new thought must enter to make a +practicable idea. This new thought, however, follows pretty closely the +model of the parent conception; and thus a homogeneous development takes +place. The parallel between this and the course of molecular occurrences +is apparent. Patient attention will be able to trace all these elements +in the transaction called learning. + +Three modes of evolution have thus been brought before us; evolution by +fortuitous variation, evolution by mechanical necessity, and evolution +by creative love. We may term them _tychastic_ evolution, or _tychasm_, +_anancastic_ evolution, or _anancasm_, and _agapastic_ evolution, +or _agapasm_. The doctrines which represent these as severally of +principal importance, we may term _tychasticism_, _anancasticism_, and +_agapasticism_. On the other hand the mere propositions that absolute +chance, mechanical necessity, and the law of love, are severally +operative in the cosmos, may receive the names of _tychism_, _anancism_, +and _agapism_. + +All three modes of evolution are composed of the same general elements. +Agapasm exhibits them the most clearly. The good result is here brought +to pass, first, by the bestowal of spontaneous energy by the parent upon +the offspring, and, second, by the disposition of the latter to catch +the general idea of those about it and thus to subserve the general +purpose. In order to express the relation that tychasm and anancasm bear +to agapasm, let me borrow a word from geometry. An ellipse crossed by a +straight line is a sort of cubic curve; for a cubic is a curve which is +cut thrice by a straight line; now a straight line might cut the ellipse +twice and its associated straight line a third time. Still the ellipse +with the straight line across it would not have the characteristics of a +cubic. It would have, for instance, no contrary flexure, which no true +cubic wants; and it would have two nodes, which no true cubic has. The +geometers say that it is a _degenerate_ cubic. Just so, tychasm and +anancasm are degenerate forms of agapasm. + +Men who seek to reconcile the Darwinian idea with Christianity will +remark that tychastic evolution, like the agapastic, depends upon a +reproductive creation, the forms preserved being those that use the +spontaneity conferred upon them in such wise as to be drawn into harmony +with their original, quite after the Christian scheme. Very good! This +only shows that just as love cannot have a contrary, but must embrace +what is most opposed to it, as a degenerate case of it, so tychasm is +a kind of agapasm. Only, in the tychastic evolution progress is solely +owing to the distribution of the napkin-hidden talent of the rejected +servant among those not rejected, just as ruined gamesters leave their +money on the table to make those not yet ruined so much the richer. +It makes the felicity of the lambs just the damnation of the goats, +transposed to the other side of the equation. In genuine agapasm, on the +other hand, advance takes place by virtue of a positive sympathy among +the created springing from continuity of mind. This is the idea which +tychasticism knows not how to manage. + +The anancasticist might here interpose, claiming that the mode of +evolution for which he contends agrees with agapasm at the point at which +tychasm departs from it. For it makes development go through certain +phases, having its inevitable ebbs and flows, yet tending on the whole to +a foreordained perfection. Bare existence by this its destiny betrays an +intrinsic affinity for the good. Herein, it must be admitted, anancasm +shows itself to be in a broad acception a species of agapasm. Some forms +of it might easily be mistaken for the genuine agapasm. The Hegelian +philosophy is such an anancasticism. With its revelatory religion, with +its synechism (however imperfectly set forth), with its “reflection,” +the whole idea of the theory is superb, almost sublime. Yet, after all, +living freedom is practically omitted from its method. The whole movement +is that of a vast engine, impelled by a _vis a tergo_, with a blind and +mysterious fate of arriving at a lofty goal. I mean that such an engine +it _would_ be, if it really worked; but in point of fact, it is a Keely +motor. Grant that it really acts as it professes to act, and there is +nothing to do but accept the philosophy. But never was there seen such an +example of a long chain of reasoning,—shall I say with a flaw in every +link?—no, with every link a handful of sand, squeezed into shape in a +dream. Or say, it is a pasteboard model of a philosophy that in reality +does not exist. If we use the one precious thing it contains, the idea +of it, introducing the tychism which the arbitrariness of its every step +suggests, and make that the support of a vital freedom which is the +breath of the spirit of love, we may be able to produce that genuine +agapasticism, at which Hegel was aiming. + + +A THIRD ASPECT. DISCRIMINATION. + +In the very nature of things, the line of demarcation between the three +modes of evolution is not perfectly sharp. That does not prevent its +being quite real; perhaps it is rather a mark of its reality. There is +in the nature of things no sharp line of demarcation between the three +fundamental colors, red, green, and violet. But for all that they are +really different. The main question is whether three radically different +evolutionary elements have been operative; and the second question is +what are the most striking characteristics of whatever elements have been +operative. + +I propose to devote a few pages to a very slight examination of these +questions in their relation to the historical development of human +thought. I first formulate for the reader’s convenience the briefest +possible definitions of the three conceivable modes of development +of thought, distinguishing also two varieties of anancasm and three +of agapasm. The tychastic development of thought, then, will consist +in slight departures from habitual ideas in different directions +indifferently, quite purposeless and quite unconstrained whether by +outward circumstances or by force of logic, these new departures being +followed by unforeseen results which tend to fix some of them as habits +more than others. The anancastic development of thought will consist +of new ideas adopted without foreseeing whither they tend, but having +a character determined by causes either external to the mind, such +as changed circumstances of life, or internal to the mind as logical +developments of ideas already accepted, such as generalisations. The +agapastic development of thought is the adoption of certain mental +tendencies, not altogether heedlessly, as in tychasm, nor quite blindly +by the mere force of circumstances or of logic, as in anancasm, but by +an immediate attraction for the idea itself, whose nature is divined +before the mind possesses it, by the power of sympathy, that is, by +virtue of the continuity of mind; and this mental tendency may be of +three varieties, as follows. First, it may affect a whole people or +community in its collective personality, and be thence communicated +to such individuals as are in powerfully sympathetic connection with +the collective people, although they may be intellectually incapable +of attaining the idea by their private understandings or even perhaps +of consciously apprehending it. Second, it may affect a private person +directly, yet so that he is only enabled to apprehend the idea, or +to appreciate its attractiveness, by virtue of his sympathy with his +neighbors, under the influence of a striking experience or development of +thought. The conversion of St. Paul may be taken as an example of what +is meant. Third, it may affect an individual, independently of his human +affections, by virtue of an attraction it exercises upon his mind, even +before he has comprehended it. This is the phenomenon which has been +well called the _divination_ of genius; for it is due to the continuity +between the man’s mind and the Most High. + +Let us next consider by means of what tests we can discriminate between +these different categories of evolution. No absolute criterion is +possible in the nature of things, since in the nature of things there is +no sharp line of demarcation between the different classes. Nevertheless, +quantitative symptoms may be found by which a sagacious and sympathetic +judge of human nature may be able to estimate the approximate proportions +in which the different kinds of influence are commingled. + +So far as the historical evolution of human thought has been tychastic, +it should have proceeded by insensible or minute steps; for such is the +nature of chances when so multiplied as to show phenomena of regularity. +For example, assume that of the native-born white adult males of the +United States in 1880, one fourth part were below 5 feet 4 inches in +stature and one fourth part above 5 feet 8 inches. Then by the principles +of probability, among the whole population, we should expect + + 216 under 4 feet 6 inches, 216 above 6 feet 6 inches. + 48 ” 4 ” 5 ” 48 ” 6 ” 7 ” + 9 ” 4 ” 4 ” 9 ” 6 ” 8 ” + less than 2 ” 4 ” 3 ” less than 2 ” 6 ” 9 ” + +I set down these figures to show how insignificantly few are the cases in +which anything very far out of the common run presents itself by chance. +Though the stature of only every second man is included within the four +inches between 5 feet 4 inches and 5 feet 8 inches, yet if this interval +be extended by thrice four inches above and below, it will embrace all +our 8 millions odd of native-born adult white males (of 1880), except +only 9 taller and 9 shorter. + +The test of minute variation, if _not_ satisfied, absolutely negatives +tychasm. If it _is_ satisfied, we shall find that it negatives anancasm +but not agapasm. We want a positive test, satisfied by tychasm, only. Now +wherever we find men’s thought taking by imperceptible degrees a turn +contrary to the purposes which animate them, in spite of their highest +impulses, there, we may safely conclude, there has been a tychastic +action. + +Students of the history of mind there be of an erudition to fill an +imperfect scholar like me with envy edulcorated by joyous admiration, +who maintain that ideas when just started are and can be little more +than freaks, since they cannot yet have been critically examined, and +further that everywhere and at all times progress has been so gradual +that it is difficult to make out distinctly what original step any given +man has taken. It would follow that tychasm has been the sole method of +intellectual development. I have to confess I cannot read history so; I +cannot help thinking that while tychasm has sometimes been operative, at +others great steps covering nearly the same ground and made by different +men independently, have been mistaken for a succession of small steps, +and further that students have been reluctant to admit a real entitative +“spirit” of an age or of a people, under the mistaken and unscrutinised +impression that they should thus be opening the door to wild and +unnatural hypotheses. I find, on the contrary, that, however it may +be with the education of individual minds, the historical development +of thought has seldom been of a tychastic nature, and exclusively in +backward and barbarising movements. I desire to speak with the extreme +modesty which befits a student of logic who is required to survey so +very wide a field of human thought that he can cover it only by a +reconnaisance, to which only the greatest skill and most adroit methods +can impart any value at all; but, after all, I can only express my own +opinions and not those of anybody else; and in my humble judgment, the +largest example of tychasm is afforded by the history of Christianity, +from about its establishment by Constantine, to, say, the time of the +Irish monasteries, an era or eon of about 500 years. Undoubtedly the +external circumstance which more than all others at first inclined men +to accept Christianity in its loveliness and tenderness, was the fearful +extent to which society was broken up into units by the unmitigated greed +and hard-heartedness into which the Romans had seduced the world. And yet +it was that very same fact, more than any other external circumstance, +that fostered that bitterness against the wicked world of which the +primitive Gospel of Mark contains not a single trace. At least, I do +not detect it in the remark about the blasphemy against the Holy Ghost, +where nothing is said about vengeance, nor even in that speech where the +closing lines of Isaiah are quoted, about the worm and the fire that +feed upon the “carcasses of the men that have transgressed against me.” +But little by little the bitterness increases until in the last book +of the New Testament, its poor distracted author represents that all +the time Christ was talking about having come to save the world, the +secret design was to catch the entire human race, with the exception of +a paltry 144000, and souse them all in brimstone lake, and as the smoke +of their torment went up for ever and ever, to turn and remark, “There +is no curse any more.” Would it be an insensible smirk or a fiendish +grin that should accompany such an utterance? I wish I could believe +St. John did not write it; but it is his gospel which tells about the +“resurrection unto condemnation,”—that is of men’s being resuscitated +just for the sake of torturing them;—and, at any rate, the Revelation is +a very ancient composition. One can understand that the early Christians +were like men trying with all their might to climb a steep declivity of +smooth wet clay; the deepest and truest element of their life, animating +both heart and head, was universal-love; but they were continually, and +against their wills, slipping into a party spirit, every slip serving +as a precedent, in a fashion but too familiar to every man. This party +feeling insensibly grew until by about A. D. 330 the lustre of the +pristine integrity that in St. Mark reflects the white spirit of light +was so far tarnished that Eusebius, (the Jared Sparks of that day,) in +the preface to his History, could announce his intention of exaggerating +everything that tended to the glory of the church and of suppressing +whatever might disgrace it. His Latin contemporary Lactantius is worse, +still; and so the darkling went on increasing until before the end of the +century the great library of Alexandria was destroyed by Theophilus,[22] +until Gregory the Great, two centuries later, burnt the great library of +Rome, proclaiming that “Ignorance is the mother of devotion,” (which is +true, just as oppression and injustice is the mother of spirituality,) +until a sober description of the state of the church would be a thing +our not too nice newspapers would treat as “unfit for publication.” All +this movement is shown by the application of the test given above to +have been tychastic. Another very much like it on a small scale, only a +hundred times swifter, for the study of which there are documents by the +library-full, is to be found in the history of the French Revolution. + +Anancastic evolution advances by successive strides with pauses between. +The reason is that in this process a habit of thought having been +overthrown is supplanted by the next strongest. Now this next strongest +is sure to be widely disparate from the first, and as often as not +is its direct contrary. It reminds one of our old rule of making the +second candidate vice-president. This character, therefore, clearly +distinguishes anancasm from tychasm. The character which distinguishes +it from agapasm is its purposelessness. But external and internal +anancasm have to be examined separately. Development under the pressure +of external circumstances, or cataclasmine evolution, is in most cases +unmistakable enough. It has numberless degrees of intensity, from the +brute force, the plain war, which has more than once turned the current +of the world’s thought, down to the hard fact of evidence, or what has +been taken for it, which has been known to convince men by hordes. The +only hesitation that can subsist in the presence of such a history is +a quantitative one. Never are external influences the only ones which +affect the mind, and therefore it must be a matter of judgment for which +it would scarcely be worth while to attempt to set rules, whether a +given movement is to be regarded as principally governed from without +or not. In the rise of medieval thought, I mean scholasticism and +the synchronistic art developments, undoubtedly the crusades and the +discovery of the writings of Aristotle were powerful influences. The +development of scholasticism from Roscellin to Albertus Magnus closely +follows the successive steps in the knowledge of Aristotle. Prantl +thinks that that is the whole story, and few men have thumbed more +books than Carl Prantl. He has done good solid work, notwithstanding +his slap-dash judgments. But we shall never make so much as a good +beginning of comprehending scholasticism until the whole has been +systematically explored and digested by a company of students regularly +organised and held under rule for that purpose. But as for the period we +are now specially considering, that which synchronised the Romanesque +architecture, the literature is easily mastered. It does not quite +justify Prantl’s dicta as to the slavish dependence of these authors +upon their authorities. Moreover, they kept a definite purpose steadily +before their minds, throughout all their studies. I am, therefore, unable +to offer this period of scholasticism as an example of pure external +anancasm, which seems to be the fluorine of the intellectual elements. +Perhaps the recent Japanese reception of western ideas is the purest +instance of it in history. Yet in combination with other elements, +nothing is commoner. If the development of ideas under the influence of +the study of external facts be considered as external anancasm,—it is on +the border between the external and the internal forms,—it is, of course, +the principal thing in modern learning. But Whewell, whose masterly +comprehension of the history of science critics have been too ignorant +properly to appreciate, clearly shows that it is far from being the +overwhelmingly preponderant influence, even there. + +Internal anancasm, or logical groping, which advances upon a predestined +line without being able to foresee whither it is to be carried nor to +steer its course, this is the rule of development of philosophy. Hegel +first made the world understand this; and he seeks to make logic not +merely the subjective guide and monitor of thought, which was all it had +been ambitioning before, but to be the very main-spring of thinking, +and not merely of individual thinking but of discussion, of the history +of the development of thought, of all history, of all development. +This involves a positive, clearly demonstrable error. Let the logic in +question be of whatever kind it may, a logic of necessary inference or +a logic of probable inference, (the theory might perhaps be shaped to +fit either,) in any case it supposes that logic is sufficient of itself +to determine what conclusion follows from given premises; for unless it +will do so much, it will not suffice to explain why an individual train +of reasoning should take just the course it does take, to say nothing of +other kinds of development. It thus supposes that from given premises, +only one conclusion can logically be drawn, and that there is no scope +at all for free choice. That from given premises only one conclusion can +logically be drawn, is one of the false notions which have come from +logicians’ confining their attention to that Nantucket of thought, the +logic of non-relative terms. In the logic of relatives, it does not hold +good. + +One remark occurs to me. If the evolution of history is in considerable +part of the nature of internal anancasm, it resembles the development of +individual men; and just as 33 years is a rough but natural unit of time +for individuals, being the average age at which man has issue, so there +should be an approximate period at the end of which one great historical +movement ought to be likely to be supplanted by another. Let us see if we +can make out anything of the kind. Take the governmental development of +Rome as being sufficiently long and set down the principal dates. + + B. C. 753, Foundation of Rome. + B. C. 510, Expulsion of the Tarquins. + B. C. 27, Octavius assumes title Augustus. + A. D. 476, End of Western Empire. + A. D. 962, Holy Roman Empire. + A. D. 1453, Fall of Constantinople. + +The last event was one of the most significant in history, especially +for Italy. The intervals are 243, 483, 502, 486, 491 years. All are +rather curiously near equal, except the first which is half the others. +Successive reigns of kings would not commonly be so near equal. Let us +set down a few dates in the history of thought. + + B. C. 585, Eclipse of Thales. Beginning of Greek philosophy. + A. D. 30, The crucifixion. + A. D. 529, Closing of Athenian schools. End of Greek philosophy. + A. D. 1125, (Approximate) Rise of the Universities of Bologna and Paris. + A. D. 1543, Publication of the “De Revolutionibus” of Copernicus. + Beginning of Modern Science. + +The intervals are 615, 499, 596, 418, years. In the history of +metaphysics, we may take the following: + + B. C. 322, Death of Aristotle. + A. D. 1274, Death of Aquinas. + A. D. 1804, Death of Kant. + +The intervals are 1595 and 530 years. The former is about thrice the +latter. + +From these figures, no conclusion can fairly be drawn. At the same time, +they suggest that perhaps there may be a rough natural era of about 500 +years. Should there be any independent evidence of this, the intervals +noticed may gain some significance. + +The agapastic development of thought should, if it exists, be +distinguished by its purposive character, this purpose being the +development of an idea. We should have a direct agapic or sympathetic +comprehension and recognition of it, by virtue of the continuity of +thought. I here take it for granted that such continuity of thought +has been sufficiently proved by the arguments used in my paper on the +“Law of Mind” in _The Monist_ of last July. Even if those arguments are +not quite convincing in themselves, yet if they are reënforced by an +apparent agapasm in the history of thought, the two propositions will +lend one another mutual aid. The reader will, I trust, be too well +grounded in logic to mistake such mutual support for a vicious circle in +reasoning. If it could be shown directly that there is such an entity +as the “spirit of an age” or of a people, and that mere individual +intelligence will not account for all the phenomena, this would be proof +enough at once of agapasticism and of synechism. I must acknowledge +that I am unable to produce a cogent demonstration of this; but I am, I +believe, able to adduce such arguments as will serve to confirm those +which have been drawn from other facts. I believe that all the greatest +achievements of mind have been beyond the powers of unaided individuals; +and I find, apart from the support this opinion receives from synechistic +considerations, and from the purposive character of many great movements, +direct reason for so thinking in the sublimity of the ideas and in their +occurring simultaneously and independently to a number of individuals +of no extraordinary general powers. The pointed Gothic architecture in +several of its developments appears to me to be of such a character. All +attempts to imitate it by modern architects of the greatest learning and +genius appear flat and tame, and are felt by their authors to be so. +Yet at the time the style was living, there was quite an abundance of +men capable of producing works of this kind of gigantic sublimity and +power. In more than one case, extant documents show that the cathedral +chapters, in the selection of architects, treated high artistic genius as +a secondary consideration, as if there were no lack of persons able to +supply that; and the results justify their confidence. Were individuals +in general, then, in those ages possessed of such lofty natures and high +intellect? Such an opinion would break down under the first examination. + +How many times have men now in middle life seen great discoveries made +independently and almost simultaneously! The first instance I remember +was the prediction of a planet exterior to Uranus by Leverrier and Adams. +One hardly knows to whom the principle of the conservation of energy +ought to be attributed, although it may reasonably be considered as the +greatest discovery science has ever made. The mechanical theory of +heat was set forth by Rankine and by Clausius during the same month of +February, 1850; and there are eminent men who attribute this great step +to Thomson.[23] The kinetical theory of gases, after being started by +John Bernoulli and long buried in oblivion, was reinvented and applied to +the explanation not merely of the laws of Boyle, Charles, and Avogadro, +but also of diffusion and viscosity, by at least three modern physicists +separately. It is well known that the doctrine of natural selection was +presented by Wallace and by Darwin at the same meeting of the British +Association; and Darwin in his “Historical Sketch” prefixed to the +later editions of his book shows that both were anticipated by obscure +forerunners. The method of spectrum analysis was claimed for Swan as well +as for Kirchhoff, and there were others who perhaps had still better +claims. The authorship of the Periodical Law of the Chemical Elements is +disputed between a Russian, a German, and an Englishman; although there +is no room for doubt that the principal merit belongs to the first. These +are nearly all the greatest discoveries of our times. It is the same with +the inventions. It may not be surprising that the telegraph should have +been independently made by several inventors, because it was an easy +corollary from scientific facts well made out before. But it was not so +with the telephone and other inventions. Ether, the first anæsthetic, +was introduced independently by three different New England physicians. +Now ether had been a common article for a century. It had been in one of +the pharmacopœias three centuries before. It is quite incredible that +its anæsthetic property should not have been known; it was known. It had +probably passed from mouth to ear as a secret from the days of Basil +Valentine; but for long it had been a secret of the Punchinello kind. In +New England, for many years, boys had used it for amusement. Why then had +it not been put to its serious use? No reason can be given, except that +the motive to do so was not strong enough. The motives to doing so could +only have been desire for gain and philanthropy. About 1846, the date +of the introduction, philanthropy was undoubtedly in an unusually active +condition. That sensibility, or sentimentalism, which had been introduced +in the previous century, had undergone a ripening process, in consequence +of which, though now less intense than it had previously been, it was +more likely to influence unreflecting people than it had ever been. All +three of the ether-claimants had probably been influenced by the desire +for gain; but nevertheless they were certainly not insensible to the +agapic influences. + +I doubt if any of the great discoveries ought, properly, to be considered +as altogether individual achievements; and I think many will share this +doubt. Yet, if not, what an argument for the continuity of mind, and for +agapasticism is here! I do not wish to be very strenuous. If thinkers +will only be persuaded to lay aside their prejudices and apply themselves +to studying the evidences of this doctrine, I shall be fully content to +await the final decision. + + CHARLES S. PEIRCE. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[20] How can a writer have any respect for science, as such, who is +capable of confounding with the scientific propositions of political +economy, which have nothing to say concerning what is “beneficent,” such +brummagem generalisations as this? + +[21] I am happy to find that Dr. Carus, too, ranks Weismann among the +opponents of Darwin, notwithstanding his flying that flag. + +[22] See _Draper’s History of Intellectual Development_, chap. x. + +[23] Thomson, himself, in his article _Heat_ in the _Encyclopedia +Britannica_, never once mentions the name of Clausius. + + + + +RENAN. + +A DISCOURSE GIVEN AT SOUTH PLACE CHAPEL, LONDON, OCTOBER, 9, 1892. + + +“Be calm and resigned,” said Renan to his weeping wife. “We undergo +the laws of that nature of which we are manifestations. We perish, we +disappear, but heaven and earth remain, and the march of time goes on for +ever.” + +It is hard to-day to respond to these last words of the dying +philosopher. Heaven and earth remain, but they seem cold and grey when +the great heart in which they were united has ceased to beat, and when +our sweet English singer has gone silent. By the passing away of the two +highest-mounted minds in Europe this society is especially bereaved. The +earliest welcome given to the genius of young Tennyson came from the pen +of William Johnston Fox, the first Minister of this Chapel; here has his +spiritual pilgrimage been followed, and its songs here sung as hymns. +But for their magnitude Tennyson and Renan might have been considered +together. They were children of the same spiritual epoch; the son of the +Catholic Church, and the English Rector’s son, were fellow-pilgrims on +the painful road of scepticism; they encountered the same phantoms, were +attended by the same mighty shades, and found no altar but such as their +own genius could raise and their glowing hearts kindle in the wilderness +of doubt and denial. Alike they distrusted democracy, and dreamed of the +ideal monarch,—as of Arthur, “flower of kings,” whom ancient legends of +Britain and Brittany said would some day return to lead up the Golden +Year. Renan loved to tell the story of how Tennyson, roaming in Brittany, +stopped at an inn in Lannier, birthplace of Renan’s mother. In the +morning the poet demanded his account, but the hostess said, “There is +nothing to pay, Monsieur. It is you who have sung of our King Arthur.” + +But the people have a greatness of their own. They enshrine Tennyson +in Westminster Abbey, Renan in the Pantheon. The career of Renan is a +triumph of republican France. Under the Empire he was deprived of his +professorship, and of his office in the Imperial Library, for writing the +“Life of Jesus.” But the Republic made him President of the College of +France, gave him every honor, in life as in death. The national homage to +that ex-priest, that outspoken rationalist, who flattered not the masses +nor fawned on power, is a high water-mark of civilisation. For it marks +the rise of a steady tide of liberty, and not the mere leap of waves +under some tempest of momentary emotion. The great fact is that this +unique heretic, thinker, and scholar, has been able, without compromising +his independence, without help of any sect or school, to live his life, +think his thought, and round out his life-work with completeness, on the +scene of a thousand martyrdoms. + +In Renan’s “Feuilles Détachées,” which appeared last spring but is not +yet translated, there are outbursts of gratitude to his time, which, +he says, has been good to him, and pardoned many faults. He had just +finished, he says, his “History of the People of Israel”—“the serious +work of my life.” + + “The bridge which it remained to me to build between Judaism + and Christianism is built.... In the ‘Life of Jesus’ I tried + to exhibit the majestic growth of the Galilean tree from the + stock of its roots to the summit, where sing the birds of + heaven. In the volume just finished I have sought to make + known the subsoil in which shot the roots of Jesus. Thus my + principal duty is accomplished. At the Academy the work on the + Rabbins also nears conclusion, and the _Corpus Inscriptionum + Semiticorum_ is in excellent hands. So that now, having paid + all my debts, I am free enough to amuse myself a little, + and without scruples to indulge myself with the pleasure of + gathering these leaves, often light enough.” + +So radiant was the author, at sixty-nine, having achieved the main +schemes of a life which, at forty, was threatened with ruin by +intolerance. Of course it was but a small part of what he would fain have +accomplished. Last year (September 11) there was a festival, in the +Island of Bréhat, where Renan was the chief speaker. In the course of his +address he said: + + “Every year I used to come hither with my mother to visit + my aunt Périne, who loved me much, for she thought me like + my father. Here on your rocks, and in your paths, I formed + plans and dreamed dreams, of which I have realised a third + or a quarter. That is much; I consider myself fortunate; I + hold myself among the privileged ones of life. I have been + more sad than now, for I feared I might die young (misfortune + notably not arrived) and never produce what was in my mind. + Oh certainly, could I live a long time yet, I would know what + to do. I have schemes of work for three or four lives. I + would write a history of the French Revolution, showing it an + attack of fever, grand, strange, horrible, and sublime; the + foundation, let us hope of something better. I would compose + a history of Athens, almost day by day; also a history of + science and freethought, telling by what steps man has come + to know something of how the world is made; I would write a + history of Brittany in six volumes. I would study Chinese, + and review critically all the problems of Chinese history and + literature. Of all that I would make nothing. There is a crowd + of things I wish to know and shall never know. But why reproach + nature for refusing me? Let us recognise what she has given + us. I have traversed the world at an interesting moment in its + development, and, after all, have seen enough. After my time + humanity will do surprising things: I can rest content during + eternity.” + +The happiness of this venerable author, conscious that his life is +closing, his work ended,—a happiness not derived from any hope of future +reward, or even existence,—is a salient testimony of our time. In one of +these recent addresses Renan says: “Let us die calmly, in the communion +of humanity, the religion of the future.” The dying Voltaire was fed with +a wafer, even while he ridiculed it. Renan partakes the communion of +humanity, the religion of the future. It may appear cold comfort to the +superstitious, for they comprehend not that to such a man the communion +of humanity implies an eternal life. + +In one sense Renan lived not quite threescore years and ten; in another +he lived ages on ages. By his mastery of Eastern and Oriental languages +and literatures, by his studies of ancient and modern systems, he had +familiarly dwelt among primitive tribes, with them set up their sacred +dolmens, knelt at their altars, travelled with their migrations in India, +Persia, Egypt, Syria, shared their pilgrimages from lower to higher +beliefs, listened to their prophets, visited the home of Mary and +Joseph, walked with the disciples, conversed with Jesus, witnessed the +crucifixion, journeyed through the middle ages, reached the Renaissance, +passed through Protestantism, gathered every spiritual flower of the +nineteenth century. Such long experience of the past, such knowledge +of the attractions of humanity,—predicting its fulfilments,—carry the +thinker equally far into the future. Knowing the angles of convergence in +time’s rising pyramid, he can calculate the apex, and look down from it. +He is able to rejoice in realisations of ideals now mere tendencies. His +immortality is present. Such to Renan meant that communion of humanity, +into which he entered by patient studies, and by the devotion of his life +to the spiritual essence of the world. And this vision sustained him in +his last hour. + +And let me here say, that Renan’s optimism was not based in any belief +in a superhuman providence, or any dynamic or compulsory destiny in +nature. It was his faith in the heart and brain of man. In his last work +he reminds youth that their efforts at new abstractions and theologies +are idle: the new notions will follow the old into extinction. “Dear +children,” he says— + + “Dear children, it is useless to give yourself so much + headache to reach only a change of error. Let us die calm, + in the communion of humanity, the religion of the future. + The existence of the world is assured for a long time. The + future of science is guaranteed, for in the great scientific + book everything adds itself and nothing is lost. Error is not + deep; no error lasts long. Be tranquil. Before a thousand + years, let us hope, the earth will find means to supply its + exhausted coal, and, in some degree, its diminished virtue. The + resources of humanity are infinite. Eternal works accomplish + themselves without loss to the fountain of living forces, ever + rising again to the surface. Science, above all, will continue + to astonish us by its revelations, substituting the infinite + of time and space for a poor creationism that can no longer + satisfy the imagination of a child. Religion also is true to + the infinite. When God shall be complete, he will be just. I am + convinced that virtue will find itself one day clearly to have + been the better part. The merit is in affirming duty against + the apparent evidences. [As for the future] denying not, + affirming not, let us hope. Let us keep a place at our funerals + for the music and the incense.” + +It will be seen that Renan’s deity is the brother of man’s divinity. +God is as dependent on man as man on God. Natural evil is God’s +incompleteness: when man is complete God will be complete: there will be +no more injustice. + +But I must warn you that while this is the way in which Renan impresses +me, he is not a man to be caught or held in any one theory. He is the +many-sided man of our time. When I heard his lectures in his college, two +years ago,—his French was so clear and expressive that even a limping +listener could follow him tolerably,—he impressed me as a sort of Buddha. +Buddha is supposed by some to have got his large form by sitting so long +in contemplation, by others his size is regarded as a protest against +the meagreness of ill-fed ascetics. The unfurrowed serenity of Buddha’s +face, his infantine smile, were those of Renan, also the remembered music +of his voice. This association has been extended to Renan’s spiritual +nature by a letter of his to a friend, in his “Feuilles Détachées.” He +is fascinated by the legends of Buddha and Krishna which describe them +as multiplying themselves. When Buddha was born into this world, ten +thousand women entreated to be his nurses, and Buddha multiplied himself +into ten thousand babies. Each woman believed that she alone had nursed +the true Buddha. In the legend of the god Krishna, he first appeared to +some shepherdesses who were dancing. The beautiful god multiplied himself +into as many forms as there were maidens, so that each believed, that she +alone had danced with Krishna, and through life kept her heart sacred to +him. Writing of these legends, Renan says: + + “The ideal loses nothing by dividing itself: it is entire + in each of its parts. We live that part of Krishna which we + assimilate according to our genius. The ideal is for all + partakers, like morsels modified to each taste. Each creates + his divine dancer. One refinement I would introduce into + the legend of Krishna, should I ever make it into a drama, + or, better, a philosophic ballet: at the time when the + shepherdesses believed they were singly dancing with Krishna, + he should find that they were in reality dancing with different + Krishnas. Each had made her Krishna to her fancy, and when + they came to describe to each other their heavenly lover, they + should find their visions in nowise alike; and nevertheless to + each it was always Krishna.” + +The legend which thus charmed Renan has many correspondences in religious +history; in Christianity, for instance, where we to-day find a hundred +and fifty sects, each believing that it alone has the true Christ for +partner. But it applies to all great personalities, and to all spiritual +influences. The finest spirits frame no systems, found no schools. They +are akin to the sun and rain which nourish and paint innumerable and +diverse growths. It was so with Emerson. Dean Stanley said that he heard +many different preachers in America, but their sermons were generally +by Emerson. It was preëminently the case with Renan. The Catholic, the +Protestant, the idealist, the sceptic, the man of the world, the mystic, +the conservative, the radical, provided they are unsophisticated like +the shepherdesses, not champions of some sect or party, find that Renan +has spoken better for them than they can for themselves; he knows their +secret heart, is their partner by unbounded sympathies. Yet it is always +the same Renan, full and entire in each and all of his manifestations. + +Some time ago, when his friend Littré, the Positivist, was buried by his +family with Catholic rites, the aspersoir passed round the grave, and +came to Renan, who, like the rest, sprinkled holy water on the coffin. +There were cries of “Shame” among the freethinkers present; but really it +was the act of a man less sectarian than themselves. The same tenderness +that could not wound the family parting for ever from their beloved, is +visible in the gentleness with which he treats old beliefs, when it is +a question of affection or sentiment, not of dogma and authority. They +have died out of his mind utterly; he sees the creeds already in their +graves; he no longer fears them, but is glad to soothe those who cling +to their lifeless forms by speaking kindly of their virtues in the past. +His “Life of Jesus” is, in large part, a wreath of immortelles laid on +the tomb of a faith to him utterly dead,—that is, faith in a supernatural +Christ. He once told me of a little island on the coast of his native +Brittany, from which some medieval saint was supposed to have driven +monstrous serpents, or worms. To that island the peasants still repair +to get a little of the soil to use as a—vermifuge. To similarly small +size had shrunk, in Renan’s view, the greatest dogmas and superstitions +of Christendom. Others might still compliment them with fear and wrath, +but Renan was tender to them because of their smallness. He was endlessly +good-natured with his ignorant opponents, from whom he often received +warning letters. Of one who wrote him simply the words, _Remember, there +is a Hell_, he said that this monitor did not terrify him as much as he +may have supposed. He (Renan) would be rather glad to know for certain +that there was beyond the grave even a hell. And if he should go there +he felt certain that he would be able to address to the deity such +subtle arguments to prove that he ought not to remain there, but to be +transferred to paradise; (only he feared his exhorter’s paradise would be +very dull,) that he would presently be released. + +One purpose of the “Life of Jesus” has been mentioned, but that work had +also another and a higher aim. With a love like that of Mary Magdalene, +in whose rapt vision Jesus rose from the tomb, to be transformed into +a supernatural Christ, Renan sought to raise out of the grave of that +supernatural Christ the human Jesus. He had travelled through Palestine, +visited every spot associated with the great teacher, and drew the most +realistic portraiture he could of the parents, home, friends, disciples, +and daily life of Jesus. The outcry against that book was a confession +by theology of its utter loss of the human personality of Jesus. There +had been a time when the religious heart loved to dwell on the sweet +humanities of Jesus. In the seventeenth century the poet, Thomas Dekker, +wrote: + + “The best of men + That e’er wore earth about him was a sufferer; + A soft, meek, patient, humble, tranquil spirit, + The first true gentleman that ever breathed.” + +And such remembrance of Jesus, in his life among the people, his +friendships, smiles and tears, are found in the sermons of Tillotson, +South, Jeremy Taylor. But the descended God gradually consumed the +humanity. In the last century it became a heresy to consider Jesus as a +man. The man was crucified on a cross of dogmas; he lay dead and buried +under a stony theology, until Renan rolled away the stone, raised him +to life, clothed him with flesh and blood, invested him with beauty, +and said once more to the Pharisee, the sceptic, the scoffer—_Behold +the man!_ For writing that book,—just after Strauss had shown the +Christ of Christendom a mythological figure,—the churches should have +clasped Renan’s knees. But for it they heaped him with abuse, declared +that Jewish bankers had bribed him to write it, drove him from his +professorship of Hebrew, reduced him to poverty. The Pope denounced +him as “The European Blasphemer.” He has been terribly avenged in his +own country, where every educated man has abandoned the church. And he +lived to see the Christianity of England striving to gain a new hold +on the people by following his brave gesture,—rationalising away the +supernatural Christ, and exalting the humanity of Jesus as the sign of +his divinity. The criticism of that work is not at all so destructive +as that of many who have written in the generation that has elapsed +since its appearance,—of Dr. Martineau, for instance, on whom Oxford +has conferred a doctor’s degree. Indeed, in reading Renan’s “Life of +Jesus” now, one is surprised by its concessions. He accepts the four +Gospels as coming from the first century, a belief which even the learned +theologians have abandoned. Some newspaper has said that Renan borrowed +from Strauss; on the contrary, the fault of the book is that it did not +borrow from Strauss, and from English authors, who had proved that the +Gospels are all of the second century. That would have relieved him of +the necessity of apologising for Jesus in some matters of which Jesus +never heard, of which Paul in the first century knew nothing, as when he +intimates that Jesus may have once lent himself to an amiable deception. +No miracle was ever ascribed to Jesus by any writer of his own century. +In several other respects Renan’s “Life of Jesus,” on its negative side, +is behind the advance of research and criticism. But those are small +details compared with the spirit and general purpose of the work. In +this moment, when we are celebrating the discovery of a western world, +we may well pay homage to the scholar who rediscovered and exhumed an +eastern world, long buried under débris of mythology and rubbish of +superstitions. This Renan has done in his series of works on the “Origins +of Christianity,” beginning with the “Life of Jesus,” dealing with the +“Apostles,” with “St. Paul,” with “Antichrist,” and other studies, +leading up to his “History of the People of Israel.” + +In all these works there is not a line that is not interesting, alike +to learned and unlearned. As some one has said, Renan could make Hebrew +roots blossom with roses and lilies. But that super-fine art of his was +carrying the cause of intellectual and religious emancipation. For these +works concerned the constitution of Europe. This Great Britain, with all +its physical freedom, is religiously a mere dependency of Judea. Here +men were formerly burnt, until lately imprisoned, and even now denied +equal advantages, not in accordance with what Englishmen think, but +with the opinions of some ancient Jews. The voice of the Jews was the +voice of God. But Judea, like the Grand Llama, could rule only while +veiled. Renan unveiled it. He did it all the more effectually because +in the literary and philosophic spirit. All the ages of Judea, from the +first tribal groups to the movement of John the Baptist and Jesus, are +assigned their exact place as successive chapters of human history, the +natural origin of their mythology is explained, Jehovah takes his seat +beside Jupiter and Brahma, Jesus is revered with Buddha and Zoroaster; +and all this is done, not by mere opinion, but by impregnable facts, +unwearied researches, inflexible veracity. It was also done lovingly. +A superstition can survive combat, but not explanation. Renan did much +to remove Christianity from the field of militant camps to the quiet +province of literary investigation. In the Republic of Letters there is +no arbitrary authority. The combat is left to salvation armies,—“theirs +not to reason why.” + +There is a large Renan literature. More than three hundred works +represent the efforts of theology to get the resuscitated human Jesus +back into his grave again. Renan’s accessible life-work is represented +by about twenty-five volumes, of which some are philosophic diversions +written amid the heavy labours of his College, and while collecting +and preserving for scholars the whole body of Semitic inscriptions. +For more than twenty years Renan has been training the young scholars +of France—those who are to fashion France in the future, and influence +mankind. Those acquainted with his larger works can realise his immense +service in elevating the standard of criticism, and establishing the +method of exact research and exact thought. But there are other works of +Renan, notably his _Philosophic Dramas_, not yet translated, from which +may be better gathered the great variety of his ability, the poetic play +of his genius, and the charm of his personality, which some of us have +personally felt, and which so won all hearts that even the priesthood +have not raised discordant notes in the homage and emotion with which +his nation has laid him in an honored grave. + +Farewell, great heart, and great leader! On your coffin I laid a wreath +of immortelles for friendship, for the homage of America, and for the +sake of this free English Society. For your victory is ours also: your +triumph is that of every independent mind on earth. + + MONCURE D. CONWAY. + + + + +INTUITION AND REASON. + + +The question whether we act more frequently from intuition or reason, +and the question that follows it, which faculty is the more noble +guide to conduct, would have no more interest for the general public +than any other of the subjects which the metaphysician exercises his +ingenuity upon,—than the question, for instance, whether we execute a +greater number of analytic or of synthetic judgments in the course of +the day,—were it not that there is an ancient opinion to the effect that +reason and intuition are marks respectively of the manner of working of +men’s and of women’s minds. The opinion is wholly unfounded, and could +only have had its origin at a time when the psychology of the working of +the human mind was thoroughly misunderstood. As the very terms in which +the opinion is expressed make plain, it dates from the period when it +was the custom to speak of the human mind as having a lot of separate +“faculties” under its control, and of calling up now one and now another +of them to do its bidding. It is time that the belief in the different +quality of men’s and of women’s minds should follow the whole antiquated +machinery of “faculties” into the limbo of old and worn-out fashions of +thought and of speech. + +This illusion, however, like most of the illusions that have had a firm +foot-hold in their day, has a perfectly comprehensible reason for its +existence. It is not true that men’s minds and women’s minds have a +different way of working; but it is true that upon certain occasions +(and by far, the greatest number of occasions) we all—men, women, and +negroes alike—act from intuition, and that the circumstances of women’s +lives have hitherto been such as to make their interests lie somewhat +more exclusively in those regions in which conduct is intuitive than in +those in which it is long thought out. It is not true that the Creator +has made two separate kinds of mind for men and for women; but it is true +that society, as at present constituted, offers two somewhat separate +_fields of interest_ for men and for women, and that the nature of their +conduct is of necessity determined by the character of the action which +is demanded of them. + +What is the difference for the psychologist, between the mental state +of a being who acts from reason, and of one who acts from intuition? +It is not a difference of the _kind of mind_ which controls him, but +of the _kind of knowledge_ upon which his present conduct is based. If +one individual has got at his command a lot of general propositions +bearing upon the case in hand, and if his familiarity with them is not +such that they flow together without conscious effort, then he must +laboriously piece them together, and think out the conclusions which they +necessitate. If another individual, having led a different life, has had +a lot of experiences which cover just such cases as this, and if he has +been taught by thousands of instances that under these circumstances a +certain course of conduct will nearly always lead to good results, then +he can trust to his hands or his feet to execute that course of conduct +without a moment’s aid from conscious reflection; he can go on with his +novel, or whatever other pleasant occupation engages his attention, +without the wear and tear of mind which is involved in consciously +thinking about the circumstances in question. + +Now the differences in the mental processes of men and women are exactly +of this nature. They are differences dependent upon the fact that the +_knowledge_ at their command—that is, the stored up premises upon which +action is based—is, to a certain extent, of a different kind, and got +from different sources. So far as the knowledge is not of a different +kind, the character of the action is not of a different kind. There is +an immense number of conclusions which men and women alike “jump at,” +every hour in the day; and some of them represent reasoning so fixedly +instinctive, that even the closest attention does not enable us to drag +it up into the light of consciousness. How many people know that a +certain feeling of strain in the muscles which move the eyes is a sign of +a certain distance of an object looked at, and a different feeling of +strain, a sign of a different distance; and that when the eyes are fixed +upon one point, objects in the lateral field of view are judged to be +nearer or farther away than that point, according as the two disparate +images which they cast upon the two retinas are, the right-hand one or +the left hand one, the brighter? The common man _knows_ that one object +is near and the other far, but he is not _conscious_ even of the feeling +of strain, nor of the existence of double images; the physiological +psychologist knows the unconscious syllogism by which he _must_ reach +his conclusion, but even he cannot, by any possibility, make it cease +to be instinctive,—that is, make himself conscious of its different +steps. On the other hand, no one, whether man or woman, can pass from +one proposition in geometry to another by a process which is in any +sense unconscious, though one person may be obliged to give a much more +strained attention to what he is doing than another. + +Now it is very possible that a greater _number_ of the actions of women +have their ground in unconscious causes than of the actions of men. +The subjects upon which action is of vital concern to them have been +different subjects, and hence their stored-up stock of knowledge is +knowledge about different subjects. To the woman of the past, who was to +a great extent confined to her own home, the temper of her house-mates +was what her happiness depended upon more than anything else in the +world. It was impossible that she should not acquire a keen intelligence +in interpreting every slightest shade of expression upon the human face. +But this sort of knowledge is always instinctive, whether it is practised +by men or by women. If the eyes of the most reasonable man in the world +should chance to show him a certain curve of the lip and a certain +elevation of the posterior angle of the alæ of the nostrils on the face +of the fair lady to whom he was talking, would he try to call to mind the +pictures in Sir Charles Bell’s great work on expression and the general +theorems in Darwin’s book on the same subject, and piecing this and that +laboriously together, would he try to arrive at some just conclusion +regarding the contents of the fair lady’s mind? Would he not, rather, +instinctively change the subject of conversation, or even discreetly +beat a retreat, long before he had time to _think_? Women’s interests +have been so exclusively social that they have developed a sense for the +physical expression of emotion which makes society for them a matter of +complicated relations, of delicate susceptibility to play of feeling, +which—except in the hyper-sensitive period of courtship—is not common +among men. But there are men who are quite the equals of women in this +respect; and if any man is markedly deficient in these qualities, we +recognise him as belonging to a low and brutal type which is in process +of extinction. If a woman on the other hand, goes into business, she does +not fix the prices of her straw hats each morning in accordance with the +feelings which straw hats awaken in her when she first looks at them, +but in accordance with the fluctuations of the market. The President of +a New Hampshire Street Railway did not carry through her improvements by +her intuitions, but by a plain, common-sense weighing of reasons. Nor are +all masculine occupations under the guidance of the reasoning faculty. If +you go to a stove-man and ask him to mend your smoking chimney, does he +do it by reason? Not a bit of it! There may be stove-men who have enough +knowledge of the laws which regulate the movements of masses of hot air +to be able to apply general principles to particular instances, but in +the course of a long and checkered experience with stove-men, it has not +been my lot to fall in with them. Their knowledge of chimneys, such as it +is, is got by experience and applied by intuition, and nothing is farther +from their minds than any trace of deductive reasoning. It is not that +there are men’s minds and women’s minds, but that there are theoretical +subjects and practical subjects, and that knowledge is not the same kind +of knowledge in both. + +Intuition, in the sense in which it is used when discussing male and +female minds, is a word of double meaning: it covers those actions +which we go through with by instinct, or inherited experience ingrained +from the beginning in our nervous structure, and those which we perform +automatically, or by individual experience become so familiar that +it can act as a guide without the aid of conscious reflection. The +relative distances of objects looked at we know instinctively; the +trained musician with mind intent upon expression, reads his notes +automatically; the beginner at the piano goes through a painful process +of syllogism before each key is struck. All is, at bottom, reason; in one +case it is conscious; in another it is unconscious, but can be forced +into consciousness; in another, it is unconscious and cannot by any +effort be made conscious. Because a woman’s interests lie more than a +man’s in regions in which thought is instinctive and automatic, it does +not follow that she has developed any peculiar powers of intuition. Nor +is there any possibility that mothers should occasionally transmit their +powers of intuition to favored sons, as Mr. Grant Allen, in the course of +his apotheosis of the uneducated woman, has somewhere suggested; some men +have poetic and æsthetic minds, and in regions of poetry and art mental +activity is largely of the instinctive kind. It is different with powers +of reasoning. Good powers of reasoning may be transmitted from mother to +son, but that is merely saying metaphorically that a good firm texture of +mind may be transmitted. Hume and James Mill are two men who are supposed +to owe much to their mothers, but their peculiar powers are not usually +considered to lie in regions of intuition. No mother has ever produced an +intuitive mathematician. Nor would any one who knew anything about the +higher mathematics for a moment suppose that when a great mathematician +leaves out intermediate steps in a printed book, he had jumped at his +conclusions by instinct. It is simply that, with his thorough knowledge +of this particular subject, the intermediate steps have seemed to him too +easy to set down. If his book is hard to read, it is simply because he +has assumed a greater amount of learning in his readers than they are in +possession of. + +The question whether intuition or reason is the nobler faculty is an +exceedingly meaningless question. All knowledge which finds frequent +occasion to be put in practice has a tendency to become first automatic +and then instinctive. Human progress consists in making conscious +action automatic as soon as it can be done with safety, and in setting +free consciousness to attend to more and more complicated combinations +of circumstances. After the musician has learned to read his notes +mechanically, shall we urge him to go back to the period of conscious +linking of note to key, because reason is a diviner gift than intuition? +Is it desirable to turn the act of walking into a conscious fitting of +muscular tension to variations in the position of the centre of gravity +in order to distinguish ourselves the more effectually from the brutes +that perish? Reason is merely intuition in its formative stage, and +the sooner all our present reasoned convictions become mechanical, and +conscious thought is set free to bring in more and more far reaching +considerations to bear upon our actions (including in that term our +conclusions), the sooner will a higher form of life be reached. + +Wundt’s students have made some experiments in his laboratory in the +last two or three years, which throw a great deal of light upon this +question,—they have caught automatism in the very act of formation. It +has been noticed that different observers differed very much in the +reaction time which they assigned to the several senses,—that is, the +time required, for instance, to hear the tap of a bell, and to press a +button in response. Wundt’s students found that there are two different +reaction times,—in one, time is taken to bring the tap of the bell into +the focus of consciousness and to decide consciously what to do in +response; in the other, the process is unconscious. The first is nearly +twice as long as the second, and both are very constant quantities, for +the same sense. The exact figures are, in seconds: + + FULL. SHORT. + Sound .216 .127 N. Lange + ” .235 .121 Belkin + ” .230 .124 L. Lange + Light .290 .172 L. Lange + ” .291 .182 Martius + +It may be inferred from this that, even in the simplest matters intuition +is very nearly twice as valuable a “faculty” as reason, as far as +economy of time is concerned. (It would be interesting to determine +the difference in fatigue.) But the interesting point is that the +experimenter can teach himself to give either reaction time at his +pleasure. If he thinks of his ears, he has a feeling of strain in them, +and a long reaction time; if he directs his attention to his fingers (or +if he thinks of indifferent matters) he is unconscious of what is going +on, and his reaction time is short. It is plain that the more of these +educated brain-reflexes we can produce, the fuller and more complicated +lives we shall be capable of carrying on. It may also be assumed that +the ideal human being is the one who has many brain-reflexes, but who +is capable of bringing them all into consciousness upon occasion. +Connections that we cannot make conscious are a frequent source of +illusion. When we move the eye-ball about by the will, objects seem to +remain stationary; but when, putting the finger on the under eyelid, we +push the eye-ball up and down in the socket, we cannot help _perceiving_ +that objects are moving up and down. Prof. William James suggests as +a good experiment that some one who has eyes that he is not afraid of +injuring should do this pushing several hours a day, and see if he cannot +force conscious reason to do her work and to make him _see_ that the +objects are not moving. + +For perfectly regular circumstances,—that is, for the world of nature +or of human character so far as is governed by fixed laws,—reflex +action presents an immense economy of time and work. To provide against +extraordinary emergencies, it would seem to be desirable that we +should have the power of interposing consciousness in the chain which +begins with stimulus and ends in action. Whenever a large number of +considerations, or considerations of an abstract character, have to be +weighed and balanced, then reason is the only sufficient guide. + +That women have no deficiency in the power of putting this and that +together, when _this_ and _that_ are pieces of knowledge which are in +their possession, is absolutely proved by a single circumstance. Geometry +is a branch of learning which is entirely built up out of abstract +reason, pure and undefiled. Geometry is studied, in the United States, in +high schools, and it must not be forgotten that there are in this country +(according to the Report of the Bureau of Education) _three times_ as +many girls as boys who take the high school course. It cannot be said, +therefore, (as is said of girls who go to college) that the girls who go +to the high school are a selected lot; they are the very bone and fibre +of the women who make up the country. Now if women could not reason, we +ought to hear a great hue and cry from the teachers of the geometry +classes about the difficulty of teaching that subject to girls, and the +girls ought to lament and moan over the impossibility of getting safely +through with their demonstrations. Is this the case? I have never met +with a teacher of geometry who thought his boys did better than his +girls,—I have met with several who thought the reverse. As long ago as +1865, Her Majesty’s Inspector of schools, after travelling through this +country, said: “The teachers all tell me that the girls do fully as well +as the boys in mathematics,—fully.” Nor are any sad effects noticeable +upon health or spirits. Day after day an army of girls goes smiling into +the class-room and comes smiling out, utterly unaware that an unnatural +wrench has been given to their delicate minds, and that they are being +rapidly transformed into monstrous products of over-reason. + +If girls show no defect in reason in the class-room, neither do boys show +any defect in intuition,—in fact, their intuition about stretched strings +and lines on balls are usually better than those of girls. I have kept +a record for many years of errors committed by boys and by girls, and I +have not been able to detect any difference in their character. It is +true that it was a boy who once failed to get a problem in trigonometry +for a week, because it was not expressly stated in the book that the +milestones to which the problem related were a mile apart. My intimate +acquaintance with the character of his mind prevented me, however, from +attributing this failure in intuition to his superior reasoning powers. + +The simple matter is that a good _mind_ has good reasons and good +intuitions both. Both qualities are summed up in the expressive popular +phrase, “having your wits about you.” If you are in full possession of +your wits, you will trust to your instincts, when you must; to your +acquired reflexes, when there is no sign of danger; and to your reason, +when the question requires debate. It would be greatly for the good of +the race if the common virtues should become more instinctive in men; +and if women should be put into a position in which they can reflect +more wisely upon the virtues which are only just in process of getting +known to be such. The only reason that women do not guide themselves by +far-reaching principles in their every-day conduct, is that they have +not made themselves acquainted with the doctrines of political economy +and of abstract ethics. When women are in full possession of the higher +education, there is no danger that they will not put it into practice, +so far as it leads to practice. The human mind is so constituted that +it cannot help taking account of all its knowledge. Propositions merely +learned by rote, or the truth of which it is not absolutely convinced +of, it may leave one side, but not what it really _knows_. Nor is +there any danger that woman will lose her powers of intuition. The +knowledge and skill which she has acquired in social matters will not +desert her because she has made herself familiar with the speculations +of philosophers, and can turn to them for guidance in the intricate +questions of conduct which the complexities of modern life give rise to. +So long as a woman’s highest duty was to please her lord and master, +her task was simple, but women are now awake to a sense of wider +responsibilities. They are now aware that it is their highest duty _to +be_ the best possible kind of a human being, and _to do_ whatever lies +within their strength towards making the world the best possible kind of +a world to live in. For this end they have urgent need of _all_ the gifts +that God has given them; and he who would cripple their reason on the +ground that intuition is a pleasing and a poetic guide, would do them a +grievous wrong. + + CHRISTINE LADD FRANKLIN. + + + + +CRUELTY AND PITY IN WOMAN. + + +I. + +CRUELTY. + +Spencer says[24] that among savage nations the women are as perverse as +the men, and that if they do not work so much evil it is because they +are less able to do so. This is not entirely true; doubtless women among +savages are much more inclined to cruelty than to pity, but, generally +speaking, woman even at the very beginnings of human evolution is less +cruel than man. + + +WOMAN AND WAR. + +Woman, even among savage nations, is rarely a warrior. In the Antilles, +the women watched over the safety of the islands whenever their husbands +went to war with the neighboring islands; they were brave, strong, +courageous, nearly equalling the men in their cleverness in handling +weapons.[25] Amongst the ancient Bretons, armies were always commanded by +women. In Dahomey, the élite of the army is composed of a troop of six +or seven thousand Amazons, who are very ferocious, particularly in the +mutilation of dead bodies; women then become tigers, is a popular saying. +Among the ancient Scots, women followed the army, and cruelly mutilated +the prisoners. Among the Botocudos, when war breaks out between the +tribes, the men fight the men with sticks, and the women fight the women, +by scratching and by tearing the _botoques_ (cylinders of wood) from +their ears and lips.[26] But these are all exceptional cases. Generally +speaking, the savage woman plays a secondary part in war; she acts as an +auxiliary, picks up arrows, throws stones from a distance, and carries +the provisions etc. + + +REVENGE. + +It is above all in revenge, that feminine cruelty shows itself the most +terrible. Man is capable of destroying whole families or nations, to +satisfy a particular revenge; but nothing equals the ingenuity of woman, +in slowly tormenting her victim, in gloating over his sufferings and +lengthening them out in order that her enjoyment of vengeance may endure +as long as possible. + +In Tasmania, when the _black war_ broke out between the English and the +aborigines, the Tasmanian women terribly tortured the prisoners, in order +to avenge their companions who had been carried off by the English. We +must also attribute to the desire for vengeance, the torments inflicted +by the women upon prisoners of war among the Red Indians. + +Elizabeth of Russia, betrayed by her lover, obliged him to marry a +deformed dwarf, and to pass his wedding night in an ice palace, where +the furniture and the bed were all of ice. The next morning, attended by +her Court, she went to present the newly wedded pair with a bouquet. She +found them, stretched out upon their bed of ice, nearly frozen. She then +banished her rival to Siberia first causing her ears and nose to be cut +off. + +A wealthy Russian Prince, in love with a very beautiful peasant girl of +fifteen, took her to live with him for five years; at the end of which +time, wishing to contract an alliance, he paid her a sum of money in +dower and obliged her to marry a peasant. The young girl made no sign +for ten years, until the death of her husband; but after the lapse of +that period, a rising having taken place among the peasantry against the +nobles, she excited them and led a body of peasants to the castle of her +ancient lover, had him taken and dragged into his _izba_, harnessed him +to the plough instead of the oxen, and for three days obliged him thus +to work, lashing him with the whip each time that he fell to the ground. +At night she led him to the stable and made him lie down with the oxen; +compelling him to eat fodder with the beasts and making merry over his +sorry plight. This amusement lasted for three days, at the end of which +time, the man fell dead in one of the furrows he was ploughing.[27] + +A Russian, an idle and worthless fellow who had let his wife suffer +hunger, proposed to her that she should be sold as a slave to the +Sultan. After some hesitation, she accepted and they started off; but +when they had gone about half the way, the husband having fallen asleep +intoxicated, the idea came into her mind to sell him for a slave, in her +place. She then tied him on the horse, started off again on the road and +arriving at the place of rendezvous, she delivered her husband to the +merchant, and remained to watch the Turk push the half-awakened man into +the boat, laughing whilst he showered blows upon him.[28] + +A young Russian peasant woman lived with a small land-owner, who betrayed +her; at last she took refuge with a band of brigands, who treated her +like a queen. One day she caused two of them to capture her old lover, +and had him brought to the camp where she used him as a kind of living +foot-stool: when she sat down she covered him with a carpet and put her +feet upon him, and when she wanted to go out she made him carry her on +his shoulders. + + +CRUELTY TO THE HELPLESS. + +Woman sometimes displays the same amount of ingenuity in tormenting +the helpless creatures who may be in her power. I do not know, says +Bourgavel, any one more perfidious, immoral, or perverse than the New +Caledonian woman. In certain portions of Australia women are mortal foes +to each other. When the men wish to punish any one of them, they turn +her over to her companions, who inflict upon her horrible tortures.[29] +Sitting on her body, they cut her flesh with sharpened stones. + +In Tasmania, as amongst the ancient Saxons, the unfaithful wife was +punished by her companions; she was not killed, but she was tortured for +a long time with sharp pointed stones or knives, in all parts of her body. + +Women have often been cruel mistresses to their slaves. A lady in Guiana, +being envious of a very handsome mulatto slave, had her branded on the +mouth, cheeks and forehead. In the case of another slave, who was also +very beautiful, she had the tendon of Achilles cut thus causing her to +become a deformed and crippled monster.[30] + +It is a notorious fact that Roman and Greek ladies often inflicted most +terrible punishments on their slaves, and that it was more particularly +towards the female slaves, the _ancillæ_, that the cruelty of their +mistresses was shown. The Roman ladies, if, while they were having their +hair dressed, they were vexed with their attendants, used to thrust pins +into their arms and breasts. Darwin relates that at Rio Janeiro, an old +lady possessed a kind of thumb screw which she had had made expressly to +crush the fingers of her slaves. + + +EPIDEMIC CRUELTY. + +During periods of great national excitement, such as revolutions, +feminine cruelty shows how far it can go. + +The women, writes M. Du Camp, were the fiercest heroines of the Commune; +it was a woman who incited the assassination of the Dominicans. When the +hostages were shot, they surpassed the men in cruelty; they taunted them +with not knowing how to kill. When employed to seek out the insurgents +they were implacable; when acting as infirmarians, they killed the +wounded by giving them brandy to drink. + +At the time of the French Revolution, on the days of execution, writes +M. Legouvé,[31] the front rows nearest the guillotine were reserved +for the women of the political clubs. They even hung on to the boards +of the scaffold, in order the better to witness the death throes of +the condemned, and drowned the cries of the victims by their peals of +laughter. + + +II. + +PITY. + +But again we find a series of contradictory facts, which bear witness +that the sentiment of pity also is much keener in woman than in man. + +Even with animals, we observe this phenomenon. Hens often separate two +young cocks who are fighting together. Sir George Le Grand Jacob has +observed females of the wild goat (Steinbock) raise with their heads +he-goats that had been shot, support them and help them to escape. +Romanes relates, that sometimes the female gibbon, takes great care of +all the members of the troop when they are wounded, even if they are not +related.[32] + +The savage woman also is very often kind and good. It is notorious that +the explorers of savage countries have often escaped serious perils, +thanks to the kindness of the native women. Australasian women have +often revealed to European travellers the plots laid against them by +the men of their tribe: they have even risked their own lives for that +purpose.[33] Stanley, at the island of Bambyrch, on the Nyanza, was +roughly greeted by the natives, who were desirous of exterminating his +expedition; but a woman came to warn him and to advise him to perform +a certain ceremony with the King Shekka by which he would acquire his +friendship. In Senegambia an old woman, meeting Mungo Park, who was half +dead of starvation and had just been despoiled by a negro king, gave +him food, and went away without waiting to be thanked. Another time the +same traveller, being left with nothing but his saddle, was hospitably +entertained by some women, whom he heard chant these words as he fell +asleep: “The winds roared and the rain beat, the poor white man came +and sat down under our tree, he had no mother to give him milk, no wife +to grind him corn. Let us take pity on the white man, he has no mother, +etc., etc.”[34] Michelet says that woman was the first physician; +and certainly she fulfils the office of infirmarian among many savage +peoples, the Esquimaux, the Mincopies, etc. etc. + +In war the Samoan woman often interferes to make peace between the +belligerents. Among the Khonds, also, when two tribes quarrel, the women +sometimes make peace, calling in the intervention of a third tribe. +Quite recently, among the Montenegrins and Albanians, fierce strife +broke out between different families, but in these fights, if a man took +refuge with a woman and she covered him with her apron, he was safe. +Among the Bedouin Arabs a woman can save the life of the condemned man +who implores her protection. So it also was among the Roman Vestals, +when in the streets they accidentally met a man condemned to death; it +was required, however, that the meeting should be evidently a chance +one, for it was feared that the privilege might be carried too far. +Among civilised nations this sentiment of pity becomes naturally more +developed. Christianity owed a great deal of its success among women +to the fact, that it knew how to make use of their pity, by organising +those associations of women which are its greatest ornament. From the +earliest years after the death of Jesus, in the cenobitic form of society +lived by the disciples of the Messiah, they made use of the charitable +sentiment of childless widows and created the order of Deaconesses, which +was devoted to the care of the poor and the sick.[35] Legouvé says: +“Women offered their services to Christianity like a volunteer battalion +consecrated to charitable work. In the Apostles’ time their mission was +one of sympathy and watchfulness, a mother’s vocation; in the time of the +Martyrs they remained womanly in their modesty, while exhibiting a manly +courage; in the time of the Doctors, whilst orators speak and learned men +write, women continue to love and console.”[36] + +This Christian tradition has survived and is still powerful, thanks to +the deeply laid sentiment of pity in the heart of woman. “Private charity +in Paris,” writes M. du Camp,[37] “is almost entirely in the hands of +women. There are in Paris women of the world, young and beautiful, born +for pleasure, accustomed to every luxury, who visit the poor, nurse +the sick, rock little motherless children, and all this they do simply +without a word of self-praise.” + +The society of “Les Dames du Calvaire,” in Paris, is composed of widows, +who, without binding themselves by religious vows, engage to nurse the +sick gathered into the hospitals of the association, poor outcasts +attacked by loathsome diseases—cancer, for example. Women of wealth and +belonging to great families often obtain admission to this society. +Female religious orders are rarely contemplative; they are nearly always +charitable in aim. “The Daughters of Charity” possess establishments all +over the known world; they migrate, says M. du Camp, “like benevolent +birds, carrying with them the principle of self-sacrifice and the love +of those that suffer. In all countries I have visited, among sects most +antagonistic to their religion, I have beheld them at work; their faces +shadowed by the immense cap, which resembles the wings of a white swan; +instructing children, visiting the sick, caring for the plague-stricken, +blessed by our sailors whom they nurse in the French hospitals in foreign +lands.”[38] + +Pity in woman is sometimes so powerful a sentiment that it supplies the +place in her of a higher faculty, intelligence. It was thus that a humble +servant-maid, without learning, who could neither read nor write, founded +one of the most prominent nursing sisterhoods in France, “Les petites +Soeurs des Pauvres,” which to-day numbers 3,400 sisters, and possesses +207 houses, where more than 25,000 old men are received and cared for. +In the first half of this century there was such misery in Brittany that +the old men were literally abandoned by all. Jeanne Jugau, whose earnings +hardly sufficed to maintain herself, took in one, then two, then a number +of them, without a thought of her own poverty, slaving might and main for +their support. Two women, Virginie Tredaniel and Marie Catherine, helped +her; a priest, Le Pailleur, took the direction of their work, and in a +short time the order was founded, and grew apace. There, where genius +might have failed, the love and pity of a servant-maid succeeded. + +Another heroine of charity, though of a different type, was Jeanne +Garnier. She was perpetually haunted by a desire to do good, to help +and succour the unfortunate. M. du Camp has portrayed her character +in a most graphic manner: impulsive, prone from childhood to adopt +extreme measures, while in the convent she was given to rebellious and +untractable conduct, for which she was sent away. When she was twenty +years old she married; the love she bore her husband and two sons was +deep and ardent. Three years after her marriage she had the unspeakable +grief of losing both husband and sons at one fell stroke. After this +occurrence her life had but one aim, ceaselessly and untiringly to +succour and help the sorrowful. One day she was told that a woman, +disfigured by a cutaneous disease, was lying in an attic in Lyons, +abandoned by every one. She went at once to her, ministered to her, and +every day went to wash her sores. Thus was suggested to her the founding +of the association of “Les Dames du Calvaire,” of which we have already +spoken, and the idea of pressing into the service of the sick, widows +who found themselves in the same position as herself. She was not rich, +but being an untiring and determined worker, capable of attacking the +same person ten times a day, she obtained money. When they had to convey +the sick to the new hospital, there was among them one woman so horribly +disfigured by burns that no conveyance could be found whose driver was +willing to take her. Jeanne Garnier then took her on her own shoulders +and carried her there herself. The association of “Les Dames du Calvaire” +was not the only charitable work which owes its existence to her. She +conceived a great many other plans, of which many were carried out, for +she never ceased working, up to the moment of her death, which occurred +at forty-two years of age, of exhaustion. + +In the United States, where woman enjoys much greater freedom than +in Europe, she makes an excellent use of her liberty. In fact, all +associations of women have a charitable end in view; and these societies +not being subjected to the severe rules of Catholic religious orders, +and not requiring from their members so absolute a renunciation of the +pleasures of life, exhibit the most perfect and most modern form of +charitable associations, which have been known up to the present day. The +first woman’s club that was founded in that country, the Sorosis, has for +its object the amelioration of the condition of shop-girls: it has also +founded asylums for homeless children. The Temperance Union, founded by +women, seeks to stem the tide of intemperance. The Women’s League has +obtained the admission of women on commissioners boards for schools and +hospitals. The College Settlement Girls, composed of female graduates +from universities, carry help into the purlieus of the city.[39] + + +CRUELTY, PITY, AND THE MATERNAL SENTIMENT. + +Is woman kind or cruel? Can we reconcile these two series of facts, so +contradictory in themselves? That is the question which now comes before +us. Let us seek, first of all, the origin and the genesis of feminine +cruelty. We have seen women exhibiting great ingenuity in torturing; she +does not wish to destroy her enemies, but to torment and torture them; +she seeks to protract their pain as long as possible, and to lengthen +out her enjoyment of vengeance. On this point woman goes much further +than man: for among savages men do not amuse themselves by prolonging the +miseries of their enemies; they rather wreak their vengeance by killing +them at one stroke. Savages often make a wholesale carnage, massacring +whole tribes and nations. But it is always the woman who practices the +art of killing a man by inches, over a slow fire, as it were. Thus we +find that the redskins give their prisoners of war over to their women. +Notice, even at the present day, the difference between the quarrels of +men and women. Women scratch each other, tear out the hair, fly at the +eyes of their adversaries, trying to inflict some painful wound: men +give blows and stabs; they strive to disable or stun their enemy, or to +destroy him. There is the same difference but on a smaller scale. This +aptitude in inflicting pain is an outgrowth of weakness. We know from +the Darwinian theory of natural selection, and from the struggle for +life, that every living being must be provided with a certain number of +means of defense and offense, and amongst these means must be classed +many instincts and sentiments which spring from natural selection, +adaptation, and heredity. The cruelty of woman is one of these instincts +and sentiments. Woman not being powerful enough to destroy her enemies, +had to seek for the means of defending herself, by wounding their more +delicate organs, by inflicting such acute pain as would serve to disable +them. This tendency to protect one’s self by such means has become +instinctive by heredity; and so much the more since the woman who was +able thus to defend herself, had at the outset of man’s evolution a far +better chance of survival. + +All this is so true, that we find other weak creatures also to be cruel. +Children take pleasure in tormenting insects, birds, or little dogs, and +are very cruel to each other. I knew a child who used to cut his nails +like the teeth of a saw, in order to inflict more painful scratches on +his companions. Humming birds, says Brehm, are the smallest and the +cruelest of birds. When they are attacked by a more powerful enemy they +try to peck out his eyes with their long, sharp beaks. The struggle for +life and natural selection has provided their weakness with this means of +defense, and they are even cruel to each other when they fight, to such +an extent has the sentiment of cruelty in them become instinctive. + +And now we must seek for the genesis of the other phenomenon, pity. It +is a notorious fact, that maternity being the great function of woman, +through the whole order of animal life, with the exception of some few +fishes, it is always the female who is thus the benefactress of the race. +Maternity is always an altruistic function; in the inferior orders this +altruism is a purely physical act, and consists merely in a material +sacrifice; (the detaching of a portion of the maternal body, under +the form of bud, or egg;) in the higher orders, this altruism becomes +psychical and consists in a conscious sacrifice of self and of vitality +in the interests of the race. + +What then is the essential nature of these altruistic sacrifices? +Maternity is protection given to weakness; for the infant is above all +other created things a being requiring succour. + +It is thus that, the images relating to the state of weakness being in +great numbers strongly impressed on the mind of woman, when one of them +presents itself to her, by the law of association it awakens all those +maternal sentiments whose function it is to help the weak. At first, +motherhood only extends from a woman’s own children to those of others; +this is the first stage of pity, such as we find it in the animals and +among many undeveloped savage peoples. Afterwards in a region of higher +psychical development the sentiment of pity broadens till it embraces a +wider group, the sick, the aged, those condemned to death; for all those +unfortunates who claim the pity of woman are the weak appealing for help +to the strong. It is only the weak who can inspire pity. Thus pity, in +woman, is but the outgrowth of the maternal sentiment applied to a larger +class of helpless people. “Woman,” says M. du Camp, “may bind herself +by the religious vow of chastity; but she is a born mother and remains +a mother, even though circumstances may have broken the physical law of +her sex. The Little Sisters of the Poor, call their pensioners ‘the good +little old men,’ and themselves ‘the good little sisters,’ their superior +‘the good little mother.’ With them everybody is good and little; all +these expressions are the reflection of maternal love.” + +We must mention also, that one cause of a livelier sense of pity in +woman, is her own weakness and her lower intellect. “Anger,” writes A. +Bain, “the passion for war, are bound up with activity and strength; +conditions of weakness and of repose are favorable to the softer +sentiments.” Strong men who display great muscular or mental activity, +and who often experience the satisfactions arising from power, only +realise with extreme difficulty the feelings of the weak; for, as H. +Spencer remarks,[40] “to feel pity for any suffering which we witness, +we must have experienced it ourselves to the same extent or in an +approximate degree.” Thus healthy persons become, after a serious +sickness, more feeling than they formerly were for those who are +suffering; women are continually in a state of ill-health. + +Besides which women have not been involved in the struggle for life, +as have men during the whole process of evolution: this struggle for +life implying, as it does, the necessity of pursuing one’s own object +irrespective of the ills which it may entail on the unhappy competitors, +and often rendering a man insensible to the sorrows of those around him. +To this we add, that love for man has not been without influence in +developing the sense of pity in woman. The main characteristic of the +love of woman towards man, is self-abnegation and devotion; woman finds +her happiness in devotion to the man she loves and in making for him +the most painful sacrifices. Read the “Letters of Heloise,” the “Life +of Carlyle,” or the “Life of Mme. de Lespinasse.” Each woman, carries +hidden in her heart, an inexhaustible treasure of devotion which heredity +has added to through all the centuries, during which woman has lived in +contact with man and sought to win his good-will, displaying an affection +and an ardent zeal in his behalf; nothing then is easier than to spend +this treasure on the unhappy, when she has not found the man on whom to +lavish it. + +The close relationship between pity, maternity, and love, is also shown +by this fact, that the heroines of charity are almost always widows +without sons, or unmarried women. When a woman has a husband or sons +to love and cherish, she does not feel the same tenderness towards +the suffering; this goes to prove that if these two sentiments are +interchangeable, they are but two different forms of the same thing. + + +PITY AND CRUELTY. + +We are now in a position to answer the question: Is woman kind or cruel? +Pity and cruelty coexist together in her; we might call this state in +woman a state of unstable equilibrium; to-day she is kind, divinely +good, charitable; to-morrow she will be perverse and cruel. On one side +her feebleness renders her cruel, and her impulsive nature prevents her +from repressing the outbursts of anger and of vengeance; on the other +hand, the gentle habits of maternal affection, her lower intelligence, +and even the weakness of her nature develop in her kindly sentiments. +Woman may experience the strongest feelings of maternal affection at the +sight of a helpless creature; but that will not prevent her from cruelly +persecuting a rival, especially if she has been wounded in her sentiments +of wife or mother. Thus woman, who is the natural protector of the weak, +treats them oftentimes with a cruelty of which man is totally incapable. +Woman loves, hates, consoles, inflicts pain, according as she finds +herself in the presence of a friend, an enemy, a helpless being, or of a +rival. + +Many of the fiercest heroines of the Paris Commune, had been trained +nurses during the war, and distinguished for their devotion to the sick. +There is nothing astonishing in this, for contradiction in feeling is so +often a psychical law that a great Italian philosopher, Robert Ardigò, +has said that man is not a logical being. + +We have noticed before that weakness is in part the cause of cruelty and +partly also of pity, and this accounts for the co-existence of the two +contrary sentiments. They coexist because they have a common origin. +But this instability of equilibrium is lessened by evolution, and pity +becomes stronger than cruelty. Among civilised nations the cruelty of +women has become merely a moral attitude: the civilised woman, less +powerful than her savage sister, no more subjects her enemies to physical +pain, does not shed their blood; she contents herself with slandering +them, turning them into ridicule, and humiliating them. The diminution +of muscular strength is in itself favorable to the softening of female +character. + +Furthermore, sexual selection also helps in this; in the human race +as civilisation advances the male assumes more and more the right of +selection, and man shrinks instinctively from meeting in a woman a high +development of the qualities which he himself possesses, for he wishes +to dominate her and to be her superior. This explains to us the singular +fact, which we notice every day, that of a _savant_ marrying a stupid +or unintelligent wife; this is why the normal man, as also the vicious, +choose gentle and good women when they desire to found families. If +sometimes the choice falls on a wicked woman, it is because the man +desires to form a criminal co-partnership, such as was perhaps the normal +condition of family life during the early days of human evolution. Many +of the domestic tragedies which we witness to-day can be traced to no +other cause than this _penchant_ of the male, even of the vicious, to +choose the woman who appears to be the most gentle. Women with their +clear penetration and sure instincts have seized upon this inclination +in man and made capital out of it with infinite ability: do we not see +many young women simulate a gentleness, a sweetness, and kindness which +they do not naturally possess in order to capture the good-will of men? +Women have thus practised the habit of repressing their evil _penchants_, +through interested motives, because they saw that men chose the most +gentle among them as wives. + +Besides sexual selection, physical grace plays a conspicuous part, as +well as those psychical qualities which are associated with it. Man +having set a high value on graceful demeanour, woman sought and still +seeks with all her strength to adorn herself with it. + +We know that by the law of association between the emotional states and +their outward expression, which mutually correspond, each gesture, each +attitude, and each graceful expression of the countenance has a tendency +to throw the mind into some sweet and peaceful condition; this is why the +culture of physical grace has been for woman an exercise of goodness. +This fostering of physical beauty has had a beneficial influence on her +moral character. We might say that as woman grew in beauty, she became +better. Finally woman being in the present day more respected than in +former times, she has less often the occasion to exercise her instinctive +cruelty, which on this account is being gradually obliterated. Pity each +day becomes more and more the normal state of the feminine mind, and +cruelty the exception. In order to be cruel, a woman’s character must +be perverted, as is the case in female criminals, whose vice exceeds +that of man in similar circumstances. Or she must have received some +deep provocation, wounding her profoundly in her deepest and tenderest +sentiments, which has awakened the original cruelty slumbering latent in +the depths of her heart. + +We may thus predict that in the ages to come, woman will become entirely +good. + + GUILLAUME FERRERO. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[24] Spencer. _Principles of Sociology_, II., p. 361. + +[25] Irving. _Hist. of the Life and Voyages of Chris. Columbus_, II., p. +15. + +[26] Hovelacque. _Les débuts de l’humanité_. + +[27] Sacher-Masoch. _Rev. des Deux Mondes._ + +[28] Sacher-Masoch. Ibid. + +[29] Letourneau. _Evolution de la Morale_, p. 122. + +[30] Mantegazza. _Fisiologia etc._ Milan. 1889. + +[31] _Histoire morale des femmes._ + +[32] Romanes. _Animal Intelligence_, Vol. II. + +[33] Hovelacque. _Op. cit._ + +[34] Letourneau. _La Sociologie d’après l’ethnographie._ Paris, 1884. + +[35] Renan. _Les Apôtres._ + +[36] Op. cit. + +[37] _La charité privée à Paris_, 1887. + +[38] Op. cit. + +[39] _The Forum._ 1891. + +[40] Spencer. _Principles of Psychology_, II, p. 648. + + + + +PANPSYCHISM AND PANBIOTISM. + + +I. PROFESSOR HAECKEL’S PANPSYCHISM. + +Professor Haeckel, in his article “Our Monism,”[41] propounds the theory +of Panpsychism, which he considers as an essential feature of Monism. He +says: + + “One highly important principle of my monism seems to me to be + that I regard _all_ matter as _ensouled_, that is to say, as + endowed with feeling (pleasure and pain) and with motion, or, + better, with the power of motion. As elementary (atomistic) + attraction and repulsion these powers are asserted in every + simplest chemical process, and on them is based also every + other phenomenon, consequently also the highest developed + soul-activity of man. + + “Simplest example: sulphur and quicksilver rubbed together form + cinnabar, a new body of entirely different properties. This is + possible only on the supposition that the molecules (or atoms) + of the two elements if brought within the proper distance, + mutually _feel_ each other, by attraction move toward each + other; on the decomposition of a simple chemical compound the + contrary takes place: repulsion. (Empedocles’s doctrine of ‘the + love and hatred of atoms.’)” + +Not being able to accept Professor Haeckel’s doctrine of Panpsychism, I +propose what might best be called Panbiotism, briefly set forth in the +maxim πᾶν βιωτόν; that is, everything is fraught with life; it contains +life; it has the ability to live. + +The word βιωτός is mostly used by Greek authors in the negative, as in +the phrase βίον οὐ βιωτόν, an unlivable life, in the sense of a life +unendurable or not worth living. Thus Sophocles and others. The word +βιωτός is embodied in the term Panbiotism in its etymological sense of +“livable.” + +I am willing to concede to Professor Haeckel that all nature is alive. +Indeed, I have most emphatically insisted on the doctrine that there is +a spontaneity pervading all nature. (See “Fundamental Problems,” 2d ed., +pp. 110 et seqq.) + +By spontaneity is to be understood that kind of activity which springs +from the nature of the being or thing which is active. A motion that is +caused by pressure or push is not spontaneous; but a motion, the motive +power of which resides in the moving object, is spontaneous. Thus a cart +rolling down a hill by its own weight performs a spontaneous motion, +but when drawn by horses moves, or rather is moved, by pull without any +spontaneity.[42] Now everything that exists is possessed of certain +qualities; its existence is of some definite, peculiar kind, and this +its peculiar kind is the character of the thing. In the character of +a thing lies the source of its spontaneous actions. The spontaneous +actions of the chemical elements depend upon their qualities, which +always react under certain circumstances in a definite way, and under the +same conditions in the same way. The action of sulphur and quicksilver +lies in the nature of these elements. Their union is not passive, but +active. They _are_ not combined, but they _do_ combine. He who observes +and studies nature cannot be blind to the fact that an inalienable, +intrinsic power is resident in every thing that exists. This is true not +only of organised life, but also of the chemical elements as well as of +gravitating masses. The motion of a falling stone can, no more than the +actions of oxydising substances, be considered as ultimately due to an +extraneous pressure that makes them move by push, or to a _vis a tergo_ +acting upon inert matter. These motions must be spontaneous; they are due +to powers inherent in the nature of reality. They are self-motions, and +in this sense we say that all nature is alive. + +The term “life” is here used in a broader sense than ordinarily. It means +spontaneity or self-motion, while in its common signification the term +“life” is restricted only to the spontaneous action of organised beings, +i. e. of plants and animals. In order to distinguish life in the broader +sense from the narrower or common acceptance of the term, we call the +latter “organised life.” + +It is not impossible, and I consider it even as most probable, that the +difference between Professor Haeckel and myself rests on a different +usage of the term soul. But a vague or inconsistent usage of the term, +unless we are especially careful in so defining it as to prevent +misunderstandings, will inevitably beget errors. Thus the doctrine of +Panpsychism is liable to lead to fantastic ideas, and to cause great +confusion concerning the activity of what is generally called inanimate +nature. + +Soul (as I understand the term) is a system of sentient symbols. + +The problem of the origin of the soul is solved as soon as we understand +how feelings can acquire meaning. + +Suppose we have some sentient substance exposed to the impressions of the +surrounding world. The sense-impressions of the surrounding world leave +traces in the sentient substance; these traces, which are structures of +a certain form corresponding exactly to the various impressions, are +preserved and constitute a predisposition to being very easily revived +by impressions of the same kind. The revival of feeling in traces left +in the sentient structure from former impressions is called memory. If a +new impression of the same kind as the traces of the former impressions +affects a sentient being, the new impression already finds a convenient +path for its reception prepared. Its peculiar vibration fits in the old +trace and thus runs along very easily in the memory-grooves of former +impressions, reviving at the same time the feelings perceived at their +original formation. The feeling thus caused is composed of several +elements, which naturally melt into one: first, there is that kind of +feeling which is produced by the present impression; secondly, there is +the revival of former feelings or memory-sensations; and thirdly, there +is a feeling of congruence resulting from the combination of these two. +This third element is a new and a very important feature. We suppose that +it is extremely insignificant in the beginning, but being a constantly +growing factor, it rapidly increases in importance. The stronger and the +more independent the memory-structures become, the more clearly will +their congruence with fresh sense-impressions be felt as a congruence. + +This feeling of congruence is the simplest form of what psychologists +generally call “recognition.” + +The recognition of a sense-impression, as being the same as some former +sense-impression, adds to the feeling a new quality; it imparts meaning +to it. This feeling of a special kind will now stand for something. In +this way impressions upon sentient substance will, in the course of +their natural development, simply by the repetition of similar and same +impressions, come to indicate the presence of certain conditions that +cause the impression. This act of indicating something, of symbolising +the presence of a reality, of possessing meaning, is the birth of soul. +Sense-impressions that have acquired meaning are called sensations. A +sensation standing for a special object symbolises that object. Abstract +ideas are symbols of a higher degree, but they remain symbols just the +same. And it is the sentient symbols which constitute the soul. + +Those actions which are regulated by the meanings of sentient symbols of +which a soul consists should alone, according to a strict terminology, +be called “psychical.” The falling stone, the chemical elements, when +combining or separating, etc., are alive; there is a spontaneously acting +power even in unorganised nature; but the actions of unorganised nature +are not determined by the meaning of feelings, and, in truth, we have +no reason to believe that their feelings—granting that they really do +possess feelings of some kind—are freighted with even so much as the +slightest inkling of significance. In a word, there is no soul in the +stone; there is no mind in the water-fall; and there is nothing psychical +in either oxygen or hydrogen. But there is soul wherever meaning can be +found as the regulating motive of actions; there is purpose. And wherever +purpose is, there is mind. + + +II. PLEASURE AND PAIN. + +Professor Haeckel goes still farther in the application of his theory +of Panpsychism: he speaks of the atoms not only as feeling each other, +but also as having pleasure and pain. This indicates either that he +is serious in his belief in the psychical nature of all things, or it +proves how dangerous it is to introduce an allegorical expression the +allegorical character of which is from the beginning lost sight of. + +What are pleasure and pain? + +Pleasure and pain are known to us by experience; they are feelings. +Pleasure is an agreeable, pain a disagreeable feeling. + +Pleasure and pain are different from sensation. Sensations are +representative of certain somethings called objects. Pleasures and pains, +however, are not representative, they are purely subjective states. +There may be pleasurable or painful sensations, and there may be pain +indicating the presence of pain-producing objects, but that does not +concern us now. When speaking of pleasure and pain we do not refer to +the representative value of feelings, but consider a merely subjective +aspect, pleasure being the agreeableness, pain the disagreeableness of +feeling. + +Accordingly pleasure and pain presuppose the existence of an organised +system of feelings. An isolated feeling, we have learned, is meaningless; +it is still less pleasurable or painful. In order to agree or disagree, +there must be something with which to agree or disagree. Therefore, +although pleasure and pain are not symbols indicative of some objective +presence, they can take place only in sentient organisms, in systems of +feelings, in souls. Where these complex conditions, indicative of the +presence of a soul, are absent, we have no right to speak of the presence +of pleasure and pain. + +We cannot interpret the phenomena of unorganised nature as being endowed +with feelings of pleasure and pain. Pleasure and pain are psychical +phenomena, and psychical phenomena can take place in souls only. + +We might as well speak of the presence of positive and negative +electricity in the cataract, the water-power of which is employed +to produce electricity. Electricity is, in such a case, transformed +water-power; but can we, for that reason, say that the motion of water is +either positive or negative electricity? + +All the motions of the objective world must be supposed to have their +subjective correlates; but the simplest forms of objective phenomena +cannot have those subjective correlates which, according to our +experience, appear and have their conditions of appearance only in the +most complex and highest developed forms of existence—in organised nature. + + * * * * * + +The physiological conditions of pleasure and pain are now just beginning +to be investigated (see Goldscheider’s article in Dubois-Reymond’s +_Archiv_, 1891), and most philosophical theories concerning the nature +of pleasure and pain are mere assumptions. Almost all the views that are +now current attempt an explanation by generalising the idea of pleasure +and pain so as to regard the feelings of pleasure and pain as a universal +feature of nature. This vicious method of generalisation at the cost +of discrimination has produced much confusion in the world; and its +influence is the more pernicious as average minds are easily satisfied +with generalities. + +Now, the theory of making pleasure and pain universal features of +existence is a palpably erroneous theory; it is a wrong generalisation. +It is true that sentient beings naturally seek pleasure and avoid pain. +But are we allowed, according to the laws of logic, to transfer the +special feature of the case to the whole class of all processes where a +seeking and an avoiding can be observed? Certainly not. Because sentient +beings are repelled by pain and attracted by pleasure, we cannot say +that every repulsion is due to pain and that every attraction is due to +pleasure. + +The theory according to which pleasure and pain alone are the causes of +attraction and repulsion we may fairly consider as a poetical license +justifiable within certain narrow limits, and actually justified in so +far as there is in every natural process some peculiar feature that is +analogous to the feelings of sentient beings. This peculiar feature—viz. +its subjectivity—is, as we have seen, not visible, not observable; yet it +exists: it is that something which in the course of evolution becomes, in +special combinations, first feeling and then consciousness. But for that +reason it is not as yet either consciousness or feeling. + +While on the one hand the theories of pleasure and pain that regard +pleasure and pain as universal features of natural phenomena, are +arrived at by a wrong method of generalisation, we find on the other +hand they do not agree with facts. They neither explain nor account for +the appearance or disappearance of real pleasures and pains such as take +place in animal life. + + * * * * * + +Starting from merely theoretical considerations, Kant defines pleasure as +a feeling of furtherance, pain, as a feeling of hindrance of life; and +so prominent a physiologist and psychologist as Alexander Bain says that +“States of pleasure are connected with an increase, states of pain, with +an abatement of some or of all the vital functions.” + +A consideration of the actual causes of our pleasures and pains will +prove the incorrectness of these views, which are also due to wrong +generalisations. An increase of the vital functions and a further growth, +either of the organs or of the whole organism, is very often accompanied +with pain. A growing tooth causes, as a rule, as much pain as a decaying +tooth. And if by some drug the decay is hastened and the nerve is killed, +there is, connected with the suppression and sometimes with the mere +abatement of the vital function, an abatement of the pain also. + +Feelings of pleasure and pain presuppose that habits have been formed in +a sentient organism. + +Pain is not always a hindrance of life, nor is every hindrance of life +painful. Pain is not an abatement of the functions of life, not a decay, +nor a destruction. But pain is always a disturbance of life and of the +habits that have been formed. + +Growth is, under certain circumstances, as much a disturbance as is +decay. And decay, if it is simply an abatement or cessation of function, +is not accompanied with pain. + +While pain is always a disturbance of the functions of an organism, +pleasure is simply the gratification of wants; functions and wants being +formed by habits, we may briefly say that pleasure is agreement, pain +disagreement, with habits. + +There are natural wants and unnatural wants. There are habits beneficial +to the furtherance of life, and there are habits injurious to the +furtherance of life. The pleasure connected with the gratification of +wants does not depend on its being a furtherance or a hindrance of life, +but solely on the intensity of the want. And the intensity of the want, +again, depends on the degree to which a habit has become inveterate.[43] + + * * * * * + +The theory of pleasure and pain which regards pleasure as indicative +of the growth, and pain, of the decay of life, leads ultimately to the +ethics of hedonism, which identifies the good with the pleasurable. +However, if our view of pleasure and pain be correct, it is apparent +that the pleasure theory in ethics is wrong in its very foundation. The +pleasurable would cease to be a criterion of goodness; for many things +are pleasurable that are bad, and many things are painful that are good. +Growth, development, progress, evolution have often been, nay must mostly +be bought with great pain, tribulation, anxiety, and also with the +renunciation of pleasures. On the other hand the fulness of pleasure is +always a very dangerous symptom for any state of existence. + +The seeking of pleasure and the avoiding of pain are certainly very +questionable guides in determining what right conduct is. In adopting +pleasure and pain as the principles of ethics, we adulterate the nature +of morality; for morality exists and has been called into being simply +to counteract the dangerous allurances of that which promises to produce +pleasure and to avoid pain. Ethics has to teach us how to live, how to +develop, how to grow, how to make our lives useful and serviceable. If +ethics were simply a method of how to obtain the greatest amount of +pleasure, we might better openly confess that there is no moral goodness +but only pleasurableness, and consequently that morality is a chimera and +ethics a farce. + +A defender of the pleasure theory in ethics writes in reply to this +criticism of his view: “To seek pleasure and to avoid pain is not wrong. +Why shall we deprive men of their enjoyments?” Certainly, everyone has +a right to enjoy himself; every one has a right to seek pleasure and to +avoid pain. But seeking pleasure and avoiding pain is not as yet ethical. +Under ordinary circumstances it is right enough to follow the natural +impulses of seeking pleasure and avoiding pain. But there are cases +where seeking pleasure, be it for ourselves or for others, and avoiding +pain, be it for ourselves or for others, become actual wrongs; not +because present pleasures will lead to future pains, but because certain +pleasures are a hindrance to the higher evolution of the soul. + +It is often said that the renunciation of pleasures is richly made up for +by the pleasures which are afforded in a more fully developed life. But +this, in my opinion, is not true. The adult has rather less pleasures +than the child, and the civilised or highly cultured man does not enjoy +himself as much, as easily, and as cheaply as does the savage, the +uncultured, the fool. + + +III. MR. THOMAS A. EDISON’S PANPSYCHISM. + +Some time ago Mr. Thomas A. Edison was interviewed on the question, “What +is life?” Mr. Edison answered the question; and his view is quite in +accord with Professor Haeckel’s idea of panpsychism. The article appeared +first in a daily newspaper. Being remarkable for its coincidence with the +views of a great scientist, and coming from the pen of so interesting +a man as the famous inventor of the phonograph, we deem it best to +republish it in full, with Mr. Edison’s permission, who, at the same +time, acknowledged the copy we sent him as correct. + +This is the article: + + INTELLIGENT ATOMS. + + BY THOMAS A. EDISON. + + My mind is not of a speculative order, it is essentially + practical, and when I am making an experiment, I think only of + getting something useful, of making electricity perform work. + + I don’t soar; I keep down pretty close to earth. Of course + there are problems in life I can’t help thinking about, but I + don’t try to study them out. It is necessary that they should + be studied, and men fitted for that work are doing it. I am not + fitted for it. I leave the theoretical study of electricity to + the physicists, confining my work to the practical application + of the force. It is my belief, however, that every atom of + matter is intelligent, deriving energy from the primordial + germ. The intelligence of man is, I take it, the sum of the + intelligences of the atoms of which he is composed. Every atom + has an intelligent power of selection and is always striving to + get into harmonious relation with other atoms. The human body + is, I think, maintained in its integrity by the intelligent + persistence of its atoms, or rather by an agreement between + the atoms so to persist. When the harmonious adjustment is + destroyed the man dies, and the atoms seek other relations. + + I cannot regard the odor of decay but as the result of the + efforts of the atoms to dissociate themselves; they want to get + away and make new combinations. Man, therefore, may be regarded + in some sort as a microcosm of atoms agreeing to constitute his + life as long as order and discipline can be maintained. But, of + course, there is dissatisfaction, rebellion and anarchy leading + eventually to death, and through death to new forms of life. + For life I regard as indestructible. + + All matter lives, and everything that lives possesses + intelligence. Consider growing corn, for example. An atom + of oxygen comes flying along the air. It seeks combination + with other atoms and goes to the corn, not by chance, but by + intention. It is seized by other atoms that need oxygen, and is + packed away in the corn where it can do its work. Now carbon, + hydrogen and oxygen enter into the composition of every organic + substance in one form of arrangement or another. The formula + _CHO_, in fact, is almost universal. + + Very well, then, why does a free atom of carbon select any + particular one out of 50,000 or more possible positions unless + it wants to? I cannot see how we can deny intelligence to this + act of volition on the part of the atom. To say that one atom + has an affinity for another is simply to use a big word. The + atom is conscious if man is conscious, is intelligent if man is + intelligent, exercises will-power if man does, is, in its own + little way, all that man is. We are told by geologists that in + the earliest periods no form of life could exist on the earth. + + How do they know that? A crystal is devoid of this vital + principle, they say, and yet certain kinds of atoms invariably + arrange themselves in a particular way to form a crystal. They + did that in geological periods antedating the appearance of any + form of life and have been doing it ever since in precisely + the same way. Some crystals form in branches like a fern. Why + is there not life in the growth of a crystal? Was the vital + principle specially created at some particular period of the + earth’s history, or did it exist and control every atom of + matter when the earth was molten? I cannot avoid the conclusion + that all matter is composed of intelligent atoms and that life + and mind are merely synonyms for the aggregation of atomic + intelligence. + + Of course there is a source of energy. Nature is a perpetual + motion machine, and perpetual motion implies a sustaining and + impelling force. + + When I was in Berlin I met Du Bois-Reymond, and, wagging the + end of my finger, I said to him, “What is that? What moves + that finger?” He said he didn’t know; that investigators have + for twenty-five years been trying to find out. If anybody could + tell him what wagged this finger, the problem of life would be + solved. + + There are many forms of energy resulting from the combustion + of coal under a boiler. Some of these forms we know something + about in a practical way, but there may be many others we don’t + know anything about. + + Perhaps electricity will itself be superseded in time, who + knows? Now, a beefsteak in the human stomach is equivalent to + coal under a boiler. By oxidisation it excites energy that + does work, but what form of energy is it? It is not steam + pressure. It acts through the nerve-cells, performs work that + can be measured in foot pounds, and can be transformed into + electricity, but the actual nature of this force which produces + this work—which makes effectual the mandate of the will—is + unknown. + + It is not magnetism, it doesn’t attract iron. It is not + electricity—at least such a form of electricity as we are + familiar with. Still, here it is necessary to be guarded, + because so many different forms of electricity are known to + science that it would be rash to say positively that we shall + not class vital energy as a form of electrical energy. We + cannot argue anything from difference in speed. Nerve-force + may travel as fast as electricity, once it gets started. + The apparent slowness may be in the brain. It may take an + appreciable time for the brain to set the force going. + + I made an experiment with a frog’s leg that indicates something + of the kind. I took a leg that was susceptible to galvanic + current. The vibration produced a note that was as high as a + piccoto. While the leg was alive it responded to the electrical + current; when it was dead it would not respond. After the + frog’s leg had been lying in the laboratory three days I + couldn’t make it squeal. The experiment was conclusive as + to this point: The vital force in the nerves of the leg was + capable of acting with speed enough to induce the vibration of + the diaphragm necessary to produce sound. + + Certainly this rate of speed is greater than physiologists + appear to allow, and it seems reasonable that there is a close + affinity between vital energy and electricity. I do not say + they are identical; on the contrary I say they are very like. + If one could learn to make vital energy directly without fuel, + that is without beefsteak in the stomach, and in such manner + that the human system could appropriate it, the elixir of life + would no longer be a dream of alchemy. But we have not yet + learned to make electricity directly, without the aid of fuel + and steam. + + I believe this is possible; indeed, I have been experimenting + in this direction for some time past. But until we can learn + to make electricity, like nature, out of disturbed air, I am + afraid the more delicate task of manufacturing vital energy so + that it can be bottled and sold at the family grocery store + will have to be deferred. + + Electricity, by the way, is properly merely a form of energy, + and not a fluid. As for the ether which speculative science + supposes to exist, I don’t know anything about it. Nobody + has discovered anything of the kind. In order to make their + theories hold together they have, it seems to me, created the + ether. But the ether imagined by them is unthinkable to me. I + don’t say I disagree with them, because I don’t pretend to have + any theories of that kind, and am not competent to dispute with + speculative scientists. All I can say is, my mind is unable to + accept the theory. The ether, they say, is as rigid as steel + and as soft as butter. I can’t catch on to that idea. + + I believe that there are only two things in the universe—matter + and energy. Matter I can understand to be intelligent, for + man himself I regard as so much matter. Energy I know can + take various forms, and manifest itself in various ways. I + can understand also that it works not only upon, but through, + matter. What this matter is, what this energy is, I do not know. + + However, it is possible that it is simply matter and energy, + and that any desire to know too much about the whole question + should be diagnosed as a disease; such a disease as German + doctors are said to have discovered among the students of their + universities—the disease of asking questions. + + +THE NATURE OF INTELLIGENCE. + +Mr. Thomas A. Edison’s article is full of suggestions which invite +further discussion. We must here limit ourselves solely to those which +touch the problem of Panpsychism and Panbiotism. + +Any one who has read Mr. Edison’s article will be struck with the strange +coincidence that obtains between his and Professor Haeckel’s views. The +famous naturalist considers what he calls panpsychism as the corner-stone +of his monism: he says that atoms possess souls; and in a similar way +the famous inventor believes in the intelligence of atoms, he declares +that atoms are endowed with minds. There is certainly a deep truth in +this conception of nature; and yet we cannot accept it in the way it is +presented by either Professor Haeckel or Mr. Edison. + +With reference to Professor Haeckel’s views we have explained why atoms, +the actions of which are not endowed with meaning, have no soul, and also +why they cannot feel pleasure and pain. It remains for us to explain why +atoms are not in possession of intelligence. + +What is intelligence? + +That reaction upon a stimulus which takes place in the way it does +because of the presence of meaning, is called mental, or intelligent +action; and the ability to adjust action to mental representations is +intelligence. + +Intelligence is a psychical quality, and the psychical process which is +preparing to act with intelligence is called deliberation. Deliberation +is the successive revival of several soul-structures, either of memories +of former experiences, or of rules derived therefrom, or of advice +formerly received, including also new combinations of these mental +structures, and keeping in view the probable results of the intended +action. In a word, deliberation is thought, and thought is an interaction +among meaning-freighted feelings. + +Among these ideas, which in so far as they can influence action (i. e. +purposive motions) are called “motives,” the strongest one will determine +the result. Now, any atom of non-organised matter, say an atom of +hydrogen, acts (as we said above) with spontaneity. It is in this sense +as much alive as is any ever so complex vegetable or animal substance. It +is self-acting, and its action reveals the innermost nature of its being +just as much as the action of the man shows the character of the man. + +There is, however, a great difference between the action of animal +beings whose action is regulated by the meanings of their feelings, +which in their totality we call the soul, and the actions of inorganic +matter, of crystals, minerals, gases, chemical elements, and gravitating +masses, all of which we comprise under the name “inanimate nature.” +The stone’s fall does not depend upon any representative feeling; it +depends solely upon that quality of the stone which we popularly call +its weight. Nor has the falling stone any choice whether to fall or +not to fall. Under certain circumstances it falls. There is no act of +deliberation preceding the fall. Nor has it any choice concerning the +direction of its fall. The surrounding conditions, viz., its position +with regard to the centre of the earth together with its mass, determine +the process. The stone’s action can satisfactorily be explained without +attributing to it psychical qualities. The stone possesses no soul; +it is void of mentality; and although we believe that everything, +organised or unorganised, is endowed with subjectivity (by which we +understand the conditions of psychical life, or the potentiality of +feeling and consciousness), this subjectivity can only be analogous +to the blind impulse of the stone’s mass. If some other, psychical or +mental, subjectivity were present, we should say that it apparently does +not enter as a factor in the determination of the event. Accordingly +such an assumption is gratuitous. There is subjectivity, but there +is no intelligence. There is potentiality of feeling, but there is +no consciousness. There is present the elementary condition of that +something which is going to develop into mind, but there is no mind; +there is no meaning-freighted awareness of the surrounding conditions. + +Says Mr. Edison: + + “The intelligence of man is, I take it, the sum of the + intelligences of the atoms of which he is composed.” + +The sum total of the intelligences of the atoms in a human body (if, +in this connection, for the sake of argument, we grant that atoms are +intelligent) would not as yet make up the intelligence of man. Suppose we +are contemplating a mosaic picture or inscription. Are such compositions +really only the sum of the little stones? Are they not rather a certain +peculiar form in which these colored stones are arranged? It is not +the sum of the stones that makes the picture, but the form of their +composition. The picture is not contained in any single one of them, nor +is it the whole number of all the single stones: it originates through +their peculiar combination and consists of the form in which they are +combined. + +Mr. Edison’s explanation of the soul, applied to this example of a mosaic +picture, would be as follows: Every little stone is in itself a little +mosaic picture. The whole picture of the mosaic is the sum of the little +pictures of the stones of which it is composed. + +The intelligence of the soul, however, is not even as yet the form in +which feeling structures combine; it originates with the representative +faculty of the feeling structures. The soul is the organised totality of +a set of images and abstract mental symbols representing the qualities, +the influences, and the interactions of the different objects of the +surrounding world, the thinking subject included. + +Says Mr. Edison: + + “Every atom has an intelligent power of selection, and is + always striving to get into harmonious relation with other + atoms.” + +The latter is true; the former is an error. Every atom “is always +striving to get into harmonious relation with other atoms”; this is its +nature; and its nature being stable, consisting of certain inalienable +and intrinsic qualities, the atom acts with consistency. Certain +atoms, say atoms of hydrogen, are of such a nature as to combine with +certain other atoms, say atoms of oxygen, into molecules that form a +certain substance of peculiar properties, which, if each atom of oxygen +combines with two atoms of hydrogen, would be _H₂O_, or water. This +substance again, having certain definite qualities, will in a temperature +below freezing point crystallise at a definite angle. The angle of +crystallisation being the same for all molecules _H₂O_, the result will +necessarily be one of most marvellous regularity. And not being able to +observe the atoms in their secret activity, not knowing all the details +of nature’s marvellous laboratory, we are astonished to find such a +wonderfully harmonious relation. And yet, considering the nature of +things, we are urged to confess that it is the result of an inevitable +necessity, which takes place according to strict mathematical laws. + +Although every atom strives, according to its nature, to get into +harmonious relation with other atoms, we do not see any “intelligent +power of selection” in the province of inorganic nature. Every atom of +inorganic substances acts according to its nature in one and the same +way throughout. There is no choice, no selection, allowed. Choice and +selection are faculties that are reserved for the higher domains of +psychical life, which originates in the domain of animal existence when +meaning, conditioned by the presence of sentiency, rises into being and +creates the soul. + +Supposing that through some combination of atoms their subjectivity be +combined in such a form as to produce sentiency or feeling, we can very +easily understand how this feeling will in time become representative of +the conditions by which it is affected. The soul does not consist of the +atoms of its organism, nor of the sum of the qualities of the atoms. The +soul consists of something more subtle than matter: the soul consists of +the meaning that is attached to the different forms of the feelings which +obtain in living organisms. + + +THE PROBLEM OF THEISM. + +The problem as to whether or not there is an element of feeling present +in the unorganised realm of nature, is connected also with the problem +of theism. The monistic view of the world, which considers nature as +alive throughout, can neither accept the old supernaturalism, nor the +materialistic theory of atheism. Theism, as it is usually conceived, +believes in a personal creator and ruler of the world. Materialism denies +the existence of any God; it regards matter and its actions as the only +reality. + +Monism does not regard mental phenomena as an incidental by-play of +blindly operating forces. It regards mind as a necessary product of +reality. Mind and the peculiar qualities of mind are characteristic of +the world-tree, of which it is the highest efflorescence we know. From +the fruit we can know the root, from the product we can judge of the +factors, in the creature we see the creator. + +That great something which has produced us, the All-power in which we +live and move and have our being, and obedience to the laws of which are +the conditions of life, of welfare, and of an advance to higher life, is +called with a popular religious name “God.” + +Let us comprise under the name “theism” all those views which recognise +any conception of God, and reserve the term anthropotheism for that view +which regards God as a person, a mind, a conscious being, or a world-ego. +Atheism in that case will be a negation of the existence of God in any +form, a negation of the All-power of which we are parts and to which we +have to conform; and accordingly atheism will be also a negation of any +authority of moral conduct. + +We call attention to the fact that many who call themselves atheists, +simply because they do not believe in anthropotheism, are according to +this definition not to be classed among the atheists. + +What has monism to say, on the problem of the existence of God? + +Prof. George J. Romanes, in an article which appeared some time ago in +the _Contemporary Review_ under the title “The World as an Eject,” +declares that monism has left the problem of theism in the same state it +was in before. He says: + + “The views of the late Professor Clifford concerning the + influence of monism on theism, are unsound. I am in full + agreement with him in believing that monism is destined to + become the generally accepted theory of things, seeing that it + is the only theory of things which can receive the sanction + of science on the one hand, and of feeling on the other. But + I disagree with him in holding that this theory is fraught + with implications of an anti-theistic kind. In my opinion, + _this theory leaves the question of theism very much where + it was before_.[44] That is to say, while not furnishing any + independent proof of theism, it likewise fails to furnish any + independent disproof. + + “As a matter of methodical reasoning it appears to me that + monism alone can only lead to agnosticism. That is to say, + it leaves a clear field of choice as between theism and + atheism.”[45] + +Clifford says in the passage referred to by Professor Romanes: + + “Reason, intelligence, and volition are properties of a complex + which is made up of elements themselves not rational, not + intelligent, not conscious.” + +Rational, intelligent, conscious beings, so far as their material +existence is concerned, are made up of elements not rational, not +intelligent, not conscious. But mind, reason, intelligence are not at +all made up of material elements; they are neither latent nor germinal +and least of all fully developed properties of the single atoms. Reason +can in our conception never be explained as a complex result of the +interaction of absolutely irrational elements. The material elements of +the world, it is true, are not intelligent, not conscious; but the world +as a whole (although _not_ conscious and _not_ endowed with purposive +volition) is at least _not ir_rational and not void of determination. On +the contrary the world as a whole is the prototype of all rationality, +and human reason is a mere image of the world-order. What is the reason +of a rational being but an incarnation of this world-order? + +Reason is not a thing of matter; exactly so the world-order is not a +thing of matter. But it exists none the less; it is a reality. On the +other hand, the world-order need neither be a personal being nor the +work of a personal being. The order that prevails in the real world and +in the laws of nature appears also in the ideal world, in the laws of +formal thought, in mathematics, and its kindred sciences; and the same +rationality that obtains in the ideal domain permeates the realms of +reality, the universe of objective existence. + +The idea that God created the world-order and dictated its laws is a +fanciful and poetical allegory; it is as such a pagan notion which +belongs in the same category with Hesiod’s Cosmology, but it is +scientifically and philosophically unthinkable. For God is eternal and +God’s being is eternal. God has not created his own attributes and the +world-order is simply an attribute of God; it is part and parcel of his +nature. Or can you think of God without that attribute of irrefragable +order that appears to science as necessity, to religion as holiness, to +ethics as justice, to art as the law of beauty, to the mystic as the key +to all the wonders of existence which though solving all the problems +remains most wonderful itself? + +The world as a whole, the cosmos, God, or whatever we call the One and +All, is the prototype of all reason, but he is not a mind; he is not a +system of sentient symbols; he is not a soul. Minds are a special kind of +God’s creatures; but God is not a creature: he is the condition of the +existence of creatures, he is the creator. + +The objection is made from materialistic quarters: “What is the world +as a whole but the sum of all atoms!” This is an error. The world is +not merely the sum of all its atoms; the universe does not consist of +innumerable little particles which in their combination form the All. On +the contrary: the world as a whole, existence in its oneness, or speaking +religiously God, is alone the only true reality; all other things and +beings are parts of him. Atoms are abstract concepts; the existence of +an atom and of its actions presupposes the existence of the great whole +of which it is a part, and without which it would have no reality. There +are no atoms in themselves. Atoms regarded as things in themselves are a +scientific superstition. + +Professor Romanes advances the proposition, that cosmical events, being +as highly complex as nervous phenomena, might be possessed of a similar +subjectivity. The nervous phenomena which constitute the physiological +action of mind in the province of objectivity are, it is true, very +complex, but complexity does not constitute that characteristic feature +on the presence of which depends the origin of mind. + +Professor Romanes says: + + “Both mind and matter in motion admit of degrees: first as to + quantity, next as to velocity, and lastly as to _complexity_. + But the degrees of matter in motion are found, in point + of observable fact, not to correspond with those of mind, + save in the last particular of complexity, where there is + unquestionably an evident correspondence. + + “Now, if we fix our attention merely on this subject-matter + of complexity, and refuse to be led astray by obviously false + analogies of a more special kind, I think that there can be + no question that the macrocosm does furnish amply sufficient + opportunity, as it were, for the presence of subjectivity, even + if it be assumed that subjectivity can only be yielded by an + order of complexity analogous to that of a nervous system. For, + considering the natural and dynamical system of the universe as + a whole, it is obvious that the complexity presented is greater + than any of its parts. Not only is it true that all these parts + are included in the whole, and that even the visible sidereal + system alone presents movements of enormous intricacy, but we + find, for instance, that even within the limits of this small + planet there is presented to actual observation a peculiar + form of circumscribed complex, fully comparable to that of the + individual brain, and yet external to each individual brain. + For the so-called ‘social organism,’ although composed of + innumerable individual personalities, is, with regard to each + of its constituent units, a part of the objective world—just as + the human brain would be, were each of its constituent cells + of a construction sufficiently complex to yield a separate + personality.” + +The so-called social organism which is composed of innumerable +personalities undoubtedly yields a peculiar spiritual existence, which +cannot be explained solely as the sum of the parts and actions of its +constituent individuals. The relations in which the members of society +stand to each other are of an analogous importance to the relations of +the cells and organs in an organism. It is the form that constitutes this +or that kind of an organism, not the sum of atoms, nor the intricacy or +complexity of their combinations. Different forms of perhaps the same +material amount, and of the same intricacy of combination, yield quite +distinct types of individuality, and every state, every nation, every +society possesses, as it were a personality of its own. + +Mind is not constituted by complexity. Mind is a system of sentient +symbols. Wherever we find organisms acting in such a way that their +actions depend upon the _meanings_ of certain stimuli, we have to +attribute to them that characteristic feature which we call mind, or +soul. The action of a falling stone is explainable without attributing +to it any mentality. There is no representative value, no meaning in +that quality of the stone which, under certain conditions, makes the +stone fall. However, if a man acts, the motive of his action does not +consist in the gravity of certain material particles of his brain. It +consists in the meaning that resides in certain feelings. Without taking +into consideration the meaning that dominates the man’s motives, we +cannot explain his action, and it is the meaning of feelings that the +soul consists of. Only where and when we can discern the presence of +meaning as the raison d’être of actions, are we justified in calling +phenomena mental. When the action that takes place in response to a +stimulus depends solely upon the significance of a symbol, the inference +is legitimate, nay, it is inevitable and conclusive, that we have to +deal with a mind. The motion of a comet, which depends perhaps not only +upon the gravity of its mass, but also upon the chemical actions and +explosions of its constituent elements during its approach to the sun, +may be ever so intricate; but this does not in the least justify the +assumption of the presence of mind in the comet. + +The assumption of mind in inorganic nature is not only fantastical, it is +also needless. Facts are better explained without this speculation. + +The world as a whole is not bare of subjectivity. In this we agree +with both Clifford and Romanes. But we do not identify subjectivity +and mind, the latter being a special and indeed a very complex form +of subjectivity. We suppose that subjectivity pervades also all the +processes of unorganised nature, and no less the cosmic events; but be +they ever so much more complex than nervous phenomena, there is present +only a non-mental subjectivity. + +Yet although the phenomena of so-called inanimate nature, be they motions +of celestial bodies or physical and chemical processes, are non-mental, +there is in every one of them present that grand feature which is as +it were the breath of God. This feature appears in all the phenomena of +nature, but in none of them more gloriously than in the soul of man. Even +the cosmical events of marvellous sublimity appear as a mere prelude to +the appearance of soul-life, for in soul-life is focused all the divinity +of nature. Reason is the reflex of the world-order and thus a rational +being is made in the likeness of God. + +[Illustration] + +Professor Romanes presents the problem of the subjectivity of existence +by the adjoined diagram, which he explains as follows: + + “Following Clifford, I will call these inferred subjectivities + by the name of ‘ejects,’ and assign to them the symbol _Y_. + Thus in the following discussion _X_ = the objective world, + _Y_, the ejective world, and _Z_, the subjective world. Now, + the theory of monism supposes that _X_, _Y_ and _Z_ are all + alike in kind, but presents no definite teaching as to how far + they may differ in degree. We may, however, at once allow that + between the psychological value of _Z_ and that of _X_, there + is a wide difference of degree, and also that while the value + of _Z_ is a fixed quantity, that of _Y_ varies greatly in the + different parts of the area _Y_.” + +The deep shading of _Z_ indicates consciousness, and consciousness is +that form of subjectivity which constitutes our mind. _Z_ is not, +as Professor Romanes asserts that it is, a fixed quantity; it varies +greatly, as every one knows from his own experience. It is lowest +in trance or swoon or profound sleep. It is highest in the state of +concentrated attention. The ejective element, which we assume to be +present as a correlative concomitant in the objective world, we assume, +with Professor Romanes, varies greatly in the different parts of the +area _Y_. Like Professor Romanes, we also do _not_ assume the existence +of any unshaded _X_. There is no objectivity without its subjective +correlate. But, according to the theory of monism, the nature of the +concomitant subjectivity is not unknowable: it can be inferred from the +nature of objective existence. The subjectivity of the falling stone +is most elementary, and _not mental_; its action is not prompted by +meaning. That something which impels the stone to fall, and which science +calls gravity, does not possess any representative element. There is no +symbolism involved in gravity. There is no soul in the stone. The stone +is not incited to falling by any purpose; it has no end in view. Purpose +originates with and through the presence of representative symbols. +According to the theory of monism the shading of the surrounding zones is +not a matter concerning which we have to suspend our judgment. If monism +is true, we know very well how deeply we have to shade the different +phenomena of objective nature. + +Taking this view, we object to Professor Romanes’s conclusion when he +says: + + “Without in any way straining the theory of monism, we may + provisionally shade _X_ more deeply than _Z_, and this in some + immeasurable degree. + + “Monism sanctions the shading of _X_ as deeply as we choose; + but the shading which it sanctions is only provisional.” + +While the presence of mind in the phenomena of the stellar universe and +of inorganic nature must decidedly be denied, I would not, for that +reason, declare that monism is atheistic. + +Monism is decidedly theistic although not anthropotheistic. It is +monotheistic in so far as it recognises that the all-existence in which +we live and move and have our being is the ἙΝ ΚΑΙ ΠΑΝ, the One and All. +But there is not the slightest reason for the theory, and there are +sufficient reasons against it, that the universe is possessed of a huge +world-ego, that it is a person or a mind. + +We maintain on the one hand that the laws of nature are not designs +arranged With consciously preconceived purposes. Yet on the other hand, +we do not forget, that the world-order possesses quite definite features +and that the course of evolution runs in a very unmistakable direction. +We can plainly decipher its character, and the great religious teachers +of mankind have with a truly prophetic instinct proclaimed the ethical +injunctions to be derived therefrom—injunctions which, millenniums after +them, science has discovered to be founded in the nature of things. + +God is no mind, yet God is mentality, the source of all mind: God is not +a spirit, but he is spirituality. The subjectivity of the universe from +which all consciousness rises is part of his being, and whatever that +subjectivity, considered as a whole, be or be not, that much is certain, +that in grandeur it corresponds to the objectivity of the world. It does +not think in symbols as a man does; it is not a mind: but it exists +nevertheless. Whatever it is like we learn from the revelation of its +appearance in objective existence, from the cosmic order, the laws of +nature, and the moral ideas of mankind. + +Knowledge of nature means knowledge of God, for nature is God as he +appears and the objectivity of being is the revelation of God. + +We would not limit God to the subjectivity of nature: God is both +subjectivity and objectivity combined. He is that All-power that is, was, +and will be, thus being the ultimate authority of conduct. + +God is not a mind, he is more than a mind; God is not a system of +symbols, he is the reality symbolised in mind. He is not a person, he is +super-personal. + +He who does not see that the God of monism is greater than the God +of anthropotheism, had better believe in a personal God, until he +appreciates the truth that God is not personal but super-personal. For +after all anthropotheism is nearer the truth than atheism, for atheism +(well understood, the atheism of our definition above) is a moral +nihilism devised to shake off all ethical obligation so as to make the +lust of the moment and the pleasure of the individual the supreme rule of +action. + +Monism, accordingly, does not leave the problem of theism where it was +before. Monism proves that God is not to be conceived in the likeness +of man, but the reverse: man, being a system of symbols representing +the world, is to be conceived as having been made or rather as having +originated in the likeness of God. God is the original, man is the copy. +God is the whole, man is the part, in which the whole finds a more or +less correct representation. The picture is not perfect, but the grandest +duty a man has is the constant approach to a greater perfection. Man is +the temporal, God is the eternal. Man is limited, God is the infinite. + + EDITOR. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[41] _The Monist_, Vol. II, No. 4. + +[42] Spontaneous motion (as here defined) does not mean action without +a cause; nor does the spontaneity of the cart exclude the co-operation +of other spontaneities (_e. g._ the attraction of the earth) entering as +factors in bringing about the final result. + +[43] This theory of pleasure and pain was first set forth in an editorial +article of No. 120 of _The Open Court_, which has been republished in +the chapter “Pleasure and Pain,” pp. 338-345, of _The Soul of Man_. A +correct view of the nature of pleasure and pain is of great importance, +especially in ethics. Notwithstanding the palpable erroneousness of the +old view, several articles written by prominent authors have appeared +of late, that continue in the old strain without taking notice of the +criticism that overthrows the basis of their theories. + +[44] _Italics are ours._ + +[45] This same position is maintained with equal vigor in Professor +Romanes’s latest work _Darwin and After Darwin_, pp. 412-442. The Open +Court Publishing Co., 1892. + + + + +LITERARY CORRESPONDENCE. + + + + +I. + +FRANCE. + + +Dr. Paul Sollier has just published, in the Bibliothéque +Charcot-Debove,[46] a new and excellent work, _Les troubles de la +memoire_. This work is not identical in its purpose with that of +M. Ribot; it corrects the latter in certain points, completes and +corroborates it in others. M. Sollier set out to discuss this question +solely from a medical standpoint, which was intentionally passed over +by M. Ribot, but he has also necessarily touched upon its psychological +aspects, and, as he informs us himself, he was obliged on the whole to +make a medico-psychological study of the question. + +The subject is a vast one; one could include in it aphasia and all the +weaknesses resulting from the destruction of the brain-centres, whether +those of motion or of sensation. M. Sollier has taken the pains to reduce +it, however, to definite limits. He studies especially the subject of +acquired amnesia (diminutive changes and disaggregations of the memory). +He does not consider the subject of congenital amnesia, which is an +absence and not a loss of memory. Strictly considered, the only cases +of true amnesia, or _organic_ amnesia, are those which result from the +destruction of the nerve-centres, since in this case there is an absolute +loss of the power of forming mental images, and not simply an enfeebling +or forgetting of them, which is characteristic of _functional_ amnesia. +From a clinical standpoint amnesia exists only in the last case. Though +the effect may be the same in both cases, the causes are not identical. + +Clinical investigation cannot, however, overlook the diminutive changes +which take place in the memory and which, as early as 1817, were called +by Louyer-Villermay dysmnesia, and which are always closely allied +to organic modifications of the brain. As regards amnesia itself, it +is important to distinguish simple amnesia from retrogressive and +progressive amnesia. M. Sollier explains the motive causes of these +different conditions with great lucidity, and renders them easy of +comprehension by means of ingenious illustrations. + +I call attention to the information he gives us as to the conditions +under which a revival of mental images takes place, p. 30; to his +criticism of Ribot’s opinion, according to which the power of correctly +locating events in the scale of time is the true characteristic of +psychical memory: it is quite enough if it reproduces events as in +the past, that is to say if there exists a conscious knowledge which +shows that the mental conception belongs to the past, or is, simply, a +remembrance, p. 35 and 40; to his remarks on the strengthening of mental +images due to the repetition of remembrances, the necessary sequence of +which is that a weakening of old memories follows the destruction of +accumulated mental images, p. 48; to his explanation of the processes +of retrogressive amnesia (coming suddenly after an attack of vertigo, +a blow, etc.) which he bases upon a supposition of a group of mental +conceptions in touch with one another, in such a way that the loss of +one leading conception in a group deprives this group of sufficient +consistency to form a conscious synthesis, p. 70. + +As regards the classifications of amnesia M. Sollier censures that of M. +Ribot as being neither openly psychological nor openly clinical, and of +taking successively as bases the extent of an observed phenomenon, its +evolution, its location in time. Moreover, from a clinical standpoint +it has led to a joining together of totally incongruous disorders. M. +Sollier therefore rejects it, and contents himself with adopting first of +all, with M. Falret, the natural classification of general amnesia and of +partial amnesia. Moreover, in taking account of the systematising of lost +remembrances, he proposes to make a distinction as to the two varieties +of systematised (functional) and of non-systematised (organic) amnesia, +considered from the purely psychological standpoint, p. 59. We should +thus have, firstly, the classification of general amnesia, including +(A) true organic amnesia (destruction of the centre of mental images), +and, under the classification of the systematised, (B) functional, +or apparent, amnesia (imperfect performance of the functions of the +centres): this latter subdividing into two groups, (_a_) amnesia with its +varieties (_a´_) simple, (_b´_) retrogressive, (_c´_) progressive, and +(_b_) paramnesia: (_a´_) that of locality, (_b´_) that of exactness; to +which it is proper to add (_c_) dysmnesia, which is organic-functional. +Secondly, the classification of partial amnesia whether systematised or +not, which may be either organic or functional. M. Sollier abandons, +moreover, every pathological or etiological classification as being +exceedingly unsatisfactory. In the presence of a patient, he justly +remarks, the physician can only employ semiology.—I will not enter +here into the details of the inquisitor-like investigation entered +upon by the author. I must even proceed without stopping through the +observations intended for medical men, which form the second part of the +work, but I judge that every reader will also find therein many facts +which may prove of interest. After having read it, one is more impressed +than ever with the importance and delicacy of the motive forces of the +memory, in noting the frequency and the varieties even of its sources of +weakness. M. Sollier has the credit of pointing them out—in the shape +of “defects in synthetical power” and in “will power”—in the sources of +weakness where one had not been accustomed to look for them. It would be +interesting, he thinks, to find out what part amnesia may perhaps take in +the pathogeny of certain nervous disorders, and the influence which it +has on their evolution. Specialists for the insane might find therein a +new subject of study, and psychology will profit, on the other hand, by +that which clinical experience offers it. Is not its main object to learn +to understand life as a unit at the same time that it analyses it as a +diversity? + + * * * * * + +When one passes from a book like that of M. Sollier to the work of M. +l’Abbé MAURICE DE BAETS, _Les bases de la morale et du droit_,[47] +one is impressed by the change of method. It has become impossible +for us to consider pathology as unallied to questions of morality; and +we have accomplished this great object of studying matters pertaining +to the moral world, the evolution of law, without seeking our base of +support in a religious faith or in a metaphysical affirmation. Even M. +l’Abbé de Baets himself declares emphatically that he desires to adopt +only one starting point from among those we are acquainted with,—the +verification of facts,—and truly he shows a good will and knowledge; +nevertheless the ground which he considers so firm has, as we believe, +no stability. All seems strange to us, if I may so speak, in books of +this description. The tone which is peculiar to them, the nature of the +facts cited, the progress of the reasoning, impeach them just as surely +as the blue color of his costume reveals afar off an inhabitant of the +Celestial Empire. I am not an impassioned adversary of the clergy; far +from it. I appreciate their intentions and esteem their persons as one +should, but I am unable to share their opinions, and I consider indeed +that they deceive themselves when they think that faith has ever given to +the world an absolute assurance. It has not given it because it has not +proved sufficient. Mankind, variable and vacillating though it may be, +does not change its beliefs because of fickleness of heart: its mental +evolution takes place too slowly for that, and is also too painful. The +Catholic church of to-day has adopted as its watch-word the return to +St. Thomas of Aquinas; it will gain by this unity of effort, without +succeeding however in leading back the minds of men to its point of view. +The diverse ways we follow tend doubtless as a matter of fact toward the +same objective point, and run more or less in the same direction; but +humanity scarcely ever passes back again over the paths which it has once +traversed. + + * * * * * + +We have another little volume by M. LOMBROSO, _Les applications de +l’anthropologie criminelle_; a sequel to _Nouvelles recherches_, which +I have mentioned before. We find here interesting pages in regard to +transportation and reform schools, and a criticism of the new theories +of the penal code (Garofalo, Tarde, Sighele, Onanoff and Blorg, Ferri)—a +part of the question considered in the Congress. A chapter indeed is +devoted to the subject of criminal anthropology in modern literature, +in regard to which it seems to me M. Lombroso always makes more of +a question than is desirable, but which he well understands how to +criticise. Then follow several pages on the criminal type in art, after +a work of Dr. Edward Lefort; then comes a description of anthropological +instruments and methods. I will not affirm that this last work brings us +much of novelty; it is chiefly a new and energetic presentation of his +views, and M. Lombroso has no doubt whatever that by dint of striking the +nail upon the head he will succeed in driving it into the wall of his +adversaries. + + * * * * * + +The work of M. B. BOURDON, _L’expression des emotions et des tendances +dans le langage_, is certainly one of the most curious books one can +read. He treats in an original manner of phonetical questions, which +are less rife in France than in England and Germany, as to what sounds +signify, or speech; what is their worth in intensity, elevation, form or +quality, duration; what phenomena are shown by successions of intensity, +of elevation, of elementary articulation, of syllables, of words, etc., +of duration; what are the relations of these phenomena to versification +and what comparison one can make between writing and speech: such are the +problems particularly studied, at times with the aid of very simple but +instructive facts culled from experience. + +These studies—I need scarcely add that they are comparative ones—are +of interest for various reasons. They lead up to new ideas of grammar +and of language, and furnish arguments for a reform in orthography of +which M. Bourdon is a very warm partisan. His readers will not be slow +to notice for the matter of that, that he is in regard to this frankly +revolutionary; and it may seem paradoxical to say to them, for example, +that “the distinction between analytical and synthetical languages is +absolutely artificial, and could only be produced through our bad systems +of writing.” Writing, M. Bourdon indeed remarks, introduces separations +in places where spoken language makes no pause. The English write _I +will go_, they pronounce it _Iwillgo_. The analysis which pertains to +writing masks the true cohesion of the spoken language, and “if in the +past all series of articulations had been written as a single word which +were in fact pronounced as a single word, we should not have known the +error which consists in opposing certain languages classed as synthetical +to others which we class as analytical.” The argument is perhaps not +a decisive one, and in the neo-Latin languages, for example, one can +scarcely deny that the analysis of the written language has conformed to +the work of decomposition of the antique forms, so as to adapt itself to +the new groupings of their essential elements, groupings wherein these +elements remain variable because speech separates them effectively, in +many cases by interpolating governing words or others. + +But it is not my intention to enter into these detailed discussions. +I leave M. Bourdon in further calling attention to his last chapter, +_Ecriture_. Persons curious as to graphology will find in it some good +ideas concerning this method of “character reading.” The author does not +tell everything, and I have a suspicion that he greatly despises certain +signs valued by the graphologists, and arrived at empirically, but we +should note what he has actually said. + + * * * * * + +Under the title, _Le monde physique, Essai de conception expérimentale_, +M. Dr. JULIEN PIOGER offers to the public a sketch of a world-system. +This system is summed up in the expression of “Universal Solidarity,” +and is based on the idea of infinitely minute matter-particles, or +“infinitesimals,” the mutual relations of which, and their equilibrium, +constitute the machinery of the universe. The atomic-mechanical +hypothesis, says M. Pioger, is wrong in resolving matter into perfected +differential particles and in assigning to its atoms qualities which +make of them either true material corpuscules or a real entity, “a thing +in itself.” On the contrary, far from intending to assign a limit to +materiality, the hypothesis of infinitesimals confines itself to limiting +the conception which we may have of it. The infinitesimal corresponds +to the infinitely small, that is to say to the non-perfected, to the +non-differentiable, beyond our cognisance and our perceptivity; it +expresses the most reduced condition of the affinities which constitute +matter; it is the expression of the infinitesimal existence of that +which we call motion, extension, ponderability, under the general name +of matter. Now the most simple thing which can be conceived of in the +physical world, is the _couple_ formed by the essential equipoise of two +infinitesimals. In developing the couple it becomes possible to form the +universe in all its great variety. The solidarity of the parts in the +whole appears as the essential condition of existence of all that which +Is—the necessary condition of all individuality. + +In conclusion I call attention to two new editions, one the well-known +work of M. BERNARD PÉREZ, _Les trois premières années de l’enfant_, fifth +edition, revised and supplied with an introduction by Mr. James Sully; +the other _Les functions du cerveau_, by M. JULES SOURY, a work highly +esteemed, embodying the most recent researches. + + LUCIEN ARRÉAT. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[46] Rueff, publisher. + +[47] This book and the following ones are published by F. Alcan. + + + + +II. + +GERMANY. + + +One of our foremost psychiatrists, Professor v. Krafft-Ebing of Vienna, +says in his celebrated text-book on psychiatry: “If Pedagogy made a +more serious study of the character of man in his psychopathological +relations, many of the mistakes and severities of our system of education +would be removed, many an unsuitable choice of vocation would be left +unmade, and thus many a psychical existence rescued.” + +Any one who is at all familiar with the most important doctrines of the +diseased phenomena of mental life, and who knows how frequently psychical +disturbances of a more or less serious nature occur during childhood, +will fully agree with Krafft-Ebing, and will only regret that pedagogy, +in this important direction, has completely neglected its task. + +Although lately the necessity of psychiatric knowledge for the pedagogue +has been insisted upon in professional circles, for instance, by +Professor STRUEMPELL in his _Pedagogic Pathology_ (comp. _The Monist_ II, +106), yet instruction in this department occupies a wholly subsidiary +place in pedagogic education, and has not been made as it should have +been, an organic part of the same. The writer of these lines has +accordingly discussed this subject in a special treatise, maintaining +that the most important diseased phenomena of mental life might be +treated as a part of pedagogic psychology (comp. _The Monist_ I, 619). + +The demands made were met in different ways. While the English and +American press accepted these demands without reserve (for instance, in +HALL’S _Pedagogical Seminary_, I, 297), in Germany there has been more +caution displayed, inasmuch as the opposing difficulties were regarded as +greater than they probably were (Professor REIN’S _Pädagogische Studien_, +1892, Heft I). + +We have, however, simply to call to mind the doctrine which more than +twenty years ago Maudsley in his “Physiology and Pathology of the Mind” +laid such special emphasis upon, that psychic laws are the same in +healthy and diseased phenomena, only that they do not operate under the +same conditions and therefore produce different symptoms. Far from its +being true, therefore, that the introduction of psychopathology into +psychology can be opposed by any especially well-founded objections, such +a procedure will, on the contrary, be found to be, just as Maudsley said, +an appropriate and absolutely indispensable auxiliary of the study of +this science. And that which was emphasised by Maudsley, and lately also +by MUENSTERBERG in the treatise already discussed in _The Monist_ (II, +289), _On the Problems and Methods of Psychology_ (Leipsic, 1891, Abel), +Ziehen has done in his “Outlines of Physiological Psychology” in a manner +which will be full of suggestions for the pedagogue (comp. _The Monist_ +I, 598). + +To be sure, the work of Ziehen is very far from supplying all that +the pedagogue needs. We have in this work a vast mass of valuable +observations, which will have to be elaborated in a manner that accords +with the needs of pedagogy, if this science is to derive any material +profit from psychiatry. For the bibliography of this subject we shall +refer the reader to a former correspondence of ours (_The Monist_ II, +103), and select at present for examination one province only,—a province +which is deserving of especial consideration, inasmuch as the phenomena +which occur in it are phenomena which most frequently confront the +pedagogist, and are most likely to be overlooked by the untrained eye. +We refer to the _psychopathic subsidiary phenomena_ of DR. KOCH, by which +expression this author comprises all the psychical irregularities, be +they natural or acquired, affecting the life of the human personality, +which, though not even in the severest cases amounting to actual mental +disorders, yet in the most favorable instances so affect the persons +afflicted that they appear as lacking the full possession of mental +normality and capacity. The second part of Koch’s work, mentioned in _The +Monist_ in the place above cited, has just now appeared. (Ratisbon, 1892, +Otto Maier). Having discussed in the first part of his work inherited +and chronic psychopathic subsidiary phenomena, the author now proceeds +to discuss acquired subsidiary factors, and holds out the prospect of a +third part, on the appearance of which we shall have occasion again to +discuss the entire work from a different point of view. For the present, +only the pedagogic aspect of the question interests us. On many readers, +Koch’s book must have made the impression,—to judge from his concluding +remarks,—that the author shares Lombroso’s point of view, and to very +many pedagogues such a position would be, from the very outset, a bad +recommendation, for it would necessarily, in the very nature of the case, +involve the pedagogue in great embarrassment, in the same way as it has +involved the philosophical jurist. But embarrassment is no reason why +we should close our ears to the truth, and if Lombroso should be right +in all his teachings, pedagogy would also be obliged to accommodate +its doctrines to his. Upon the whole, however, Koch is opposed to him. +Thus when he says: “What I commend Lombroso for is that he has observed +much, has collected rich materials, and has been the source of great +incentives in many directions, and has worked suggestively in many ways; +what I reproach him with is that he has confounded the healthy with +the diseased, and has brought under one and the same category without +sufficient and appropriate tests, psychotic phenomena and phenomena which +are psychopathically merely of a subsidiary order; what I reject is his +theory of degeneration and his peculiar views of philosophy.” + +Material, such as Koch and others offer, must first be elaborated +into a pedagogic psychopathology—or better still into a pedagogic +pathopsychology—before pedagogy, as a whole, can assume in this +direction the proper form. Though we consider, now, this preparatory work +as indispensable, we can, nevertheless, not think of denying the value +of works which, without any profession of far-reaching psychological +analysis, put in effective and available form for pedagogy the diseased +phenomena of the mental life of children. The first German work of this +kind, so far as we know, is from the pen of a Leipsic teacher, GUSTAV +SIEGERT, and bears the title _Problematische Kindesnaturen_.[48] This +little work is now followed by a more comprehensive treatise, published +by a Bremen alienist, Dr. SCHOLZ, already known to the readers of _The +Monist_ (II, 104), and bearing the title _Die Characterfehler des Kindes, +eine Erziehungslehre für Schule und Haus_.[49] Such books are valuable +not only for the observations they offer and the isolated explanations +and pedagogic advice they present, but also for the suggestions which the +attentive and psychologically cultivated reader can always receive from +them. + +Like Siegert, Scholz principally shows us isolated child-types wherein +diseased qualities play a more or less pronounced rôle. But while the +former’s presentation is somewhat journalistic in style, that of the +latter is more didactic; although this tendency is not an absolutely +rigid one, as the author counts mothers as readers of his book. But +if the form of presentation leads one to infer greater profundity in +Scholz than in Siegert, this is in still higher degree the case with the +arrangement of the material. While Siegert strings his child-pictures +loosely together, Scholz arranges them according to real psychological +points of view, so that (remarkable to say) the faults of children are +discussed, first, in the province of feeling and sentiment, then in +that of representation, and finally in that of volition and action. The +introductory and concluding chapters show, also, that Scholz attempts +to enter more profoundly into the subject than Siegert proposes, and we +cherish the hope that, now that this popular work has appeared, Scholz +will very soon present us with a strictly scientific book, in which he +shall have occasion to deal with some particular points, such as, for +instance, falsehood and unchastity, more comprehensively than was perhaps +possible in a book intended for his present circle of readers. + +With respect, now, to all systematic presentations of pedagogy, +psychopathology can, as we have before indicated, never attain in them +its proper position, until the above-mentioned preparatory work has been +completed. But this fact should not preclude one’s calling especial +attention to the importance of this province, at least in some incidental +manner. + +In such a work as the _Allgemeine Pädagogik_ of ZILLER,[50] for instance, +the third edition of which has just been published by F. Mattes of +Leipsic, there surely was abundant opportunity to do this—an opportunity +which one might say almost amounted to obligation. For Ziller treats +hereditary and acquired characteristics in great detail, and such +treatment remains necessarily a one-sided one, if abnormal traits are +not considered in it. Ziller, with Herbart, demands that individuality +always be taken as the starting-point. But how many child-individualities +are there, which, in the different periods of their development, may be +regarded as fully normal! + +The reason of this omission must be looked for partly in the +circumstance, that Ziller, as well as the new editor of this otherwise +valuable work, belongs to the Herbartian school. If, namely, we +compare the psychological literature of the Herbartian school with the +publications of French, English, and American writers, or even with +the works which in recent times have issued from other philosophical +quarters of Germany, it will be unmistakably seen that the pathological +conditions of the mind have been little considered by the followers of +Herbart. Nor have voices been wanting, that would make Herbart himself +responsible for this error. He did not, they say, sufficiently appreciate +the importance of the pathological phenomena of mind, and his pupils +were in this respect influenced by him. But this reproach will be found, +on close examination, to be untenable. Herbart, it is true, did express +himself repeatedly against the overestimation of “rare and curious +phenomena,” unusual mental states and such things,[51] and his warning +is applicable also to our epoch, which produces many psychological works +in which remarkable things are to be read but which contribute nothing +worth mentioning towards the explanation of even comparatively simple +events. Herbart holds, that the psychology of the normal and ordinary +states should be the first and principal object of scientific attention; +the explanation of much that is extraordinary will then follow. With +regard to this latter point, he remarks very positively: “I do not, +however, wish by this, to gainsay the value of any real psychological +observation. There must be a welcome place in science for every +experience.” It will be seen, therefore, that Herbart is not at all far +from the point of view of Maudsley and other investigators. We find, in +fact, that he mentions repeatedly abnormal mental conditions, and also +systematically treats them, even quoting such celebrated alienists as +Reil and Pinel (_Text-book of Psychology_, §§ 142-149). The probability +is, therefore, that psychopathology would have been properly employed in +Herbart’s psychology, if it had been at all elaborated in his day, and +its influence would through Herbart have been directly felt in pedagogy, +as no pedagogist has made better or more careful use of psychology than +he. + +But Herbart’s pupils have done no further work in the province pointed +out by him. It is true, his psychology has been made use of by physicians +like Griesinger and Spielmann, and recently also to some extent by +Krafft-Ebing, but the works of these men have had no influence on the +psychological text-books of the Herbartian school, and consequently the +science has up to the present day exerted no noticeable influence on +pedagogy, either in Waitz, in Stoy, or in Ziller. In other pedagogic +schools, this has, it is true, also been the case; but in these, who make +no pretensions of relying on the teachings of psychology, the sin is +more easily pardoned. But this is not the only respect in which Ziller’s +_Pedagogy_ is not up to the times. Ziller defined pedagogy as the +influences, formed according to ethical points of view, which are brought +to bear on the mind of the pupil, and would not admit influences brought +to bear on the body, in so far as such should enter into the pedagogic +system. This misconception also springs from Ziller’s adherence to the +Herbartian school, which represents, as we well know, a metaphysical +pluralism; but it is in a still higher degree due to the fact, that +in Ziller’s day both the intimate relation between physiological and +psychological processes had not been satisfactorily established, and also +were not sufficiently known to him. If it were otherwise, his pluralism +need by no means have necessarily led him into such one-sidedness, for +this metaphysical pluralism does not exclude a monistic conception of +_phenomena_; even assuming this doctrine, one may say that motion and +feeling are two different but inseparable sides of the same phenomenon. +The “real things” produce by their interaction, simultaneously and of +necessity, both an inner side and an outer; for which reason one of our +foremost psychologists, Volkmann of Volkmar, explicitly terms Herbart’s +psychology monistic (_Text-book of Psychology_, second edition, I, 63). + +A psychologico-physiological work, from which the new editor of Ziller’s +_Pedagogy_ might have extracted many valuable things, is the book of +the Italian MOSSO, _On Fatigue_, which has just been translated into +German,[52] and which will excite much attention owing to the present +active discussion of the question of overwork. + +Supplementary to this work I will also mention a little tract by DR. +BURGERSTEIN of Vienna, entitled _Die Arbeitskurve einer Schulstunde_.[53] +This tract is a lecture, which the author gave at the Seventh +International Congress for Hygiene and Demography at London, and in +which he seeks to find by statistical methods, the duration of a +“school-period”—a very laboriously composed treatise and one difficult +to read, but possessed of high interest in psychological and pedagogic +respects. + +From pedagogy to evolution is but a step, at least it is in Ziller’s +development of Herbart’s ideas. It is true, Ziller has taken a decided +stand against Darwinism, for Ziller works with two contradictory +ideas; but his theory of education possesses points of resemblance +and analogy to the Darwin-Haeckel theory of development. According +to Ziller, each individual passes, also intellectually, through all +the stages of development that mankind at large has passed through, +only in a shorter time; and it is in conformity with such succession +that the order of the various courses of a pedagogical system is to be +arranged. Following Ziller’s precedent, PROFESSOR VAIHINGER, of Halle, +in his treatise _Naturforschung und Schule_ (Science and the Schools), +has taken up the school-reform initiated by Professor Preyer, and has +expressly transferred the fundamental law of biogenesis to pedagogy. +How instruction is to be arranged under this point of view, cannot be +explained in this letter, which is already long enough. We shall simply +remark that the idea has found in Germany a large number of both friends +and opponents. + +The opponents have recently been joined by a natural scientist, DR. +HAMANN, professor of zoology in Göttingen, who has just published a +book under the title _Entwicklungslehre und Darwinismus_ (Evolution and +Darwinism),[54] in which he does not combat the theory of evolution +itself, but simply the Darwin-Haeckelian form of that theory, placing +himself in the ranks of His and Hensen. The book appeared almost +simultaneously with the fourth edition of HAECKEL’S _Anthropogeny_,[55] +but the author, nevertheless, in his supplementary remarks, discusses +the “apology” which Haeckel subjoined to his work. Haeckel’s book needs +no recommendation in scientific circles; it will be sufficient to state +that the work has been subjected to essential alterations, but that its +fundamental features have remained the same. + +A new psychology, on the Darwinian basis, by Prof. FRITZ SCHULTZE of +Dresden, is now in course of publication, entitled _Vergleichende +Seelenkunde_ (Comparative Psychology[56]). The first part, which treats +of the fundamental principles of physiological psychology, has already +appeared. On the completion of the work we shall have occasion to return +to it. + + CHR. UFER. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[48] _Problematic Child-natures._ Leipsic, 1890, Robert Vogtländer. + +[49] _Faults of Character in Children, A System of Instruction for School +and Home._ Leipsic. Eduard Heinrich Mayer. + +[50] Compare also, _The Educational Review_ (New York), Vol. II, page 30. + +[51] _Psychologie als Wissenschaft_, § 5. + +[52] Salomon Hirzel, Leipsic. + +[53] Hamburg, 1891, Leopold Voss. + +[54] Jena, 1892, Hermann Costenoble. + +[55] Leipsic, 1892, Engelmann. + +[56] Leipsic, 1892. + + + + +CRITICISMS AND DISCUSSIONS. + + + + +A LETTER FROM MR. HERBERT SPENCER. + + +_To the Editor of The Monist_: + +As I feel it a duty to reserve, for other purposes, the very small +power of work now left to me, I am obliged to decline entering upon +a controversy. I must leave readers to examine for themselves—little +hoping, however, that they will do so. + +One point only I wish to note. The use of the expression “forms of +thought,” instead of “forms of intuition,” was simply an inadvertence; +as will be manifest on observing that though I have used the wrong +expression in the note, I have used the right expression in the text +(p. 203), as also throughout my criticism of Kant’s doctrine in _The +Principles of Psychology_, Part VII, Chapter IV, “The Reasonings of +Metaphysicians,” § 399. + + HERBERT SPENCER. + + + + +LOGIC AS RELATION-LORE. + + +In the French _Revue Philosophique_, in the August and September 1891 +numbers of the same, M. George Mouret has an essay entitled “Mathematical +Equality” in the course of which and as though subsidiary to his +ostensible purpose he discourses upon the topics of relations and +concepts and upon the fundamental elements of logic in general. His essay +is really more important as a contribution to logical doctrine than as a +treatment of mathematical equality. + +The scope of his discourse will be seen by reference to his closing +paragraphs in which he sums up what he considers to be the results +achieved by him in his essay. Therein, he says that he has “treated of +the general theory of the composition of concepts and relations and set +the foundations of the logic of analysis and the logic of definition.” + + +I. THE SPENCERIAN AXIOM. + +The determining factor of every philosophical dissertation is of course +some very general supposition which is taken as established and which +exercises a controlling influence over all the observations of its author. + +In this case this determining supposition is found in what M. Mouret +calls his “_axiom_ of _symmetry_.” The same is thus stated by him “_Two +things which have the same symmetrical relations to a third thing have +between them that same relation._” + +M. Mouret is not one of those scholars that lack hospitality for +other writings than those of their own nationality. From this fault +so noticeable in the work of so many of the French scholars M. Mouret +himself seems to be free. Indeed so far as regards the previous work done +in the domain he sets himself to examine, he accords almost exclusive +esteem to the writings of English thinkers. In fact he declares himself +so far as regards his present topic a disciple of Mr. Herbert Spencer +and puts his “axiom of symmetry” as an adaptation of that maxim of his +said master which is of the tenor as follows, viz: “_Things which have +a definite relation to the same thing have a definite relation to one +another._” This maxim, as Mr. Spencer tells us, was suggested to him by +a remark of the late eminent author who is known to the world under the +pseudonym of George Eliot, who herself stated it under the form “_Things +that have a constant relation to the same thing have a constant relation +to each other._” + +Those who are well acquainted with the psychology of Mr. Spencer will +recognise that this maxim of his is made by him the very backbone of all +his observations upon reasoning. If it has the validity which he imputes +to it, it has an importance which it will be hard to overestimate, but if +on the contrary, and as we shall submit, it is in every form in which it +has been stated, certainly unsound and misleading, it is high time that +its virtue should be brought into question. + +The _dicta_ of the masters whether they first enounce the same or whether +they only give currency thereto by their ratification are always proper +subjects for special scrutiny. There is always found a disposition to +accept them on their mere _ipse dixit_ without any attempt at criticism +or independent observation. This is decisively _not_ the scientific mood +or mode. The spirit of that modern leaven that is currently referred +to under the name of Science is characteristically a critical one, and +one that is considerably irreverent in regard to the authority of mere +personality. In this it is happily distinguished from the spirit that has +marked the past history of what may be called the “regular” schools of +philosophy. + +M. Mouret is not alone in his inadvertent esteem for the maxim in +question. In the issue of _Mind_ for October 1891 Mr. L. T. Hobhouse +publishes an article entitled “Induction and Deduction,” in which he +gives an undue appraisal to the worth of the maxim under consideration, +even though the author of the article seems to be well aware that said +maxim stands in much need of qualification. + +We venture to say that this maxim in all its forms has gained whatever +currency it has enjoyed in virtue alone of the incompetent comprehension +that too generally prevails in regard to the nature and characteristics +of that sort of things that are relations. + +A notable example of this lack of comprehension is supplied in the +logical treatise of Mr. Carveth Read, a work ostensibly founded upon +the significance of the category of relation and yet in which at the +very start the author tells us that a relation is something which is +indefinable. + + +II. IMPORTANCE OF RELATION-LORE. + +This topic of relations is one that is neglected in a degree that +reflects no credit upon the pretensions of those who undertake to +instruct others in matters logical and philosophical. The thing itself +is in the thinking of every one and the term and its derivations are +in universal use. They are used as though they imported an idea that +no one was liable to misapply or to misunderstand. The truth, however, +is that of all the stock terms in our graver discourse this very word +“relation” and its derivatives are the ones that are oftenest heard and +read without any lucidity of mind concerning their proper intent as a +part of their context. They are used with an assortment of meanings and +non-meanings that are quite distracting to try to follow and quite vain +to try and reconcile. In particular the difference between _relationship_ +and _relation_, between the _ground_ or _foundation_ of the relation +and the relation itself, between the plural fact, whether of tendency, +interaction, transition, or _status_, that is a co-condition with the +relations, and the relations that co-condition that same plural fact, is +constantly ignored in thinking and in the expression thereof, to the more +or less confusion in, and inconsequence of, the whole discourse delivered. + +It is no slight commendation of the perspicacity of M. Mouret to observe +that he has discovered that the way towards a resolution of the problems +he sets himself to work out lies through what to him appears the +altogether unexplored regions of relation-lore, for it is evident that he +regards himself as a pioneer in this field. + + +III. WORKS ON RELATION-LORE IN THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE. + +In observing this we cannot but hold M. Mouret unfortunate in not having +been put upon better lines of inquiry. He seems to have been wholly +unaware of the treasures of investigation in this domain that exist in +the English language and that for many years have been available for +the student. His case in this respect is seen in the exaltation which +he gives to the semi-popular discourses of Mr. Spencer and Mr. Read, as +contrasted with the profound researches of DeMorgan and Boole and their +disciples. It is evident that he has judged concerning the comparative +quality of the various lines of English research not after an examination +of his own, but after the current popular renown. For example, he speaks +of the work of DeMorgan and Boole as presenting “only a simple mode of +representing some of the logical laws” and as being “surrounded with a +formidable and complicated apparel which disguises the value of their +tentatives.” + +Since M. Mouret is manifestly an earnest student of the topic of +relation-lore this language shows that he has at best only a second or +third-hand knowledge of what DeMorgan and Boole really did. He ought +to have known that in the recondite field of research in question all +really competent treatment of the same would be very far from having +any “popular” quality. For a man to discourse of relation-lore in +ignorance of what DeMorgan, the very father of the “Logic of Relatives,” +accomplished is like discoursing of Darwinism in ignorance of “The Origin +of Species.” + +We opine that when M. Mouret shall have consulted the great memoir +of DeMorgan in the tenth volume of the “Cambridge Philosophical +Transactions” or better, when he shall have become acquainted with +the more developed work of Mr. C. S. Peirce, to whom beyond question +relation-lore is most indebted for its present state of progress, he +will have a better esteem for the value of the “tentatives” of DeMorgan +and Boole and their disciples. Mr. Peirce has published three principal +papers on the subject in question. The first of these was published in +1870 in the ninth volume of the “Memoirs of the American Academy of Arts +and Sciences.” Then in 1880 and in 1884, while Mr. Peirce was lecturer +on logic at Johns Hopkins University, he published in the _American +Journal of Mathematics_ two papers dealing more or less extensively +with relation-lore. One of these his “_Hauptwerk_” as it is called by +Professor Schroeder of Carlsruhe, appears in the third volume of the +journal mentioned and the other in the seventh volume of the same. +Mr. Peirce was one of the contributors to our new American “Century +Dictionary,” and in that work under the definitions of Relation and +Relativity there appears a summary treatment of the subject which is as +we take it the work of Mr. Peirce and which might have given to M. Mouret +hints which he would have appreciated. Also the editor of this magazine +in his article “Are there Things in Themselves?” in the January 1892 +number thereof incidentally touches upon the topic under consideration in +such a way as to correct some of the more inveterate misconceptions. + + +IV. M. MOURET’S THEORY OF RELATIONS. + +The article of M. Mouret is in so many points so excellent a discourse +that the chief reflection one is inclined to make is that upon its own +principles it ought to have been better. He seems to have been widely +awake to the primordial nature of relations as philosophical data. +He says: “Every notion or relation is a _function_ of relations more +directly known and enters as a relational element into other relations +less proximate to the common sources,” and also that “every concept or +notion ought to resolve into a group of relations.” + +By such tokens as these we naturally look to see M. Mouret making it his +very first concern to explain fully the nature of those primordial data +that are relations. Indeed he seems himself to be fully aware of this +natural expectation for he says: “What then is a relation; what is a +concept or notion? To this double question an answer is necessary and a +precise answer not consisting in the substitution of one form of words +for another form of words bearing the same meaning or no meaning at all.” + +We cannot however find that he has done this. Instead of it and almost +while saying that every concept and notion ought to resolve in a group +of relations he announces, “What I have to examine is the constitution, +the structure of these _relation-generating groups_.” Thus he starts with +a synthesis when what is needed is analysis. He starts with supposing +a group of relational elements indeterminate in number and proceeds to +inquire as to the conditions that must subsist with regard to them, +respectively and in combination, in order that a _definite_ relation may +subsist as to a pair of the relational elements. These conditions he +finds to be four in number. First, he finds that— + +“It is necessary that every one of the terms of the group should be +connected one to the other by _definite relations_; that between any two +terms there must always be intermediate terms that connect them in a +continuous way.” This he calls the condition of “Solidarity.” Secondly, +he finds that there must obtain the condition of _Co-Existence_. By +co-existence he intends— + +“Not a definite co-existence in time, that is to say, a relation of +simultaneity or concomitance, nor yet that established co-existence +which constitutes the causal relation, but an indefinite co-existence +independent of the order of its terms and of all consideration of time or +duration.” + +Having thus supposed his group all well stocked with relations, he +proceeds to relegate most of them to the limbo of inconsequence by +invoking a _principle_ which he calls the principle of _indetermination_. +By virtue of this principle in every particular case the _particular +determinations_ of all the terms become indeterminate and those of the +intermediate terms doubly so. Thus the supposed facts of the case become +fit for the existence of the _Third_ condition, that of _Abstraction_, +and for the arising of a general concept or notion. + +But corresponding to every concept or notion is its negative or opposite +concept or notion. As this negative depends necessarily upon certain +_particular determinations_ of the same terms that bear the _particular +determinations_ and which being singly indeterminate admit of the +positive concept or notion, there necessarily must obtain two systems +of singly indeterminate _particular determinations_ relative to but +incompatible with one another, and so relative that the negation of one +set entails the obtaining of the other set, or in other words either +set being negated entails the obtaining of the other set. These facts +constitute what M. Mouret calls the _principle_ of _incompatibility_ and +involve his _Fourth_ condition of _Relativity_ stated by him as follows: + + “All the particular determinations of the extreme terms must + not be compatible with the system and the negation of certain + relations of the system must entail the negation of the + relation which they make between the extreme terms.” + + +V. REFLECTIONS ON M. MOURET’S THEORY. + +Now we cannot regard this as a successful attempt to explain the nature +and characteristics of relations, or to unfold the involutions of +relation-lore. + +We fully realise that if every concept or relation resolves into a group +of relations we must in some form or other take what are relations in +reality as data to begin with, but this does not prevent us from taking +our datum terms for our turn of explanation as not requiring at present +any recognition other than as relational elements. What is needful as +a prime requisite on the very start of any research in relation-lore +is to obtain a clear idea of what is meant by a relation. Meanings are +primarily matters of mental status. We have to determine the relation +that subsists between the mind and the object through the mediating +interpretation of a word, and the mental affection lies nearest and +logically comes first. It may very well be that the mental affection +requires correction, but this cannot take place until its faults are +observed, and these cannot become evident until the mental affection is +itself duly understood. + +The disciples of that school of logic in which DeMorgan and Boole, +both eminent mathematicians, hold so exalted a rank as discoverers, +regard cognition as arising in consequence of brain functioning or +_mental operation_ and study the results of this operation as yielding +their import in dependence upon and only in dependence upon the proper +operation in virtue of which they arise. + +Now no cognition whatever, even of the most elementary sort, arises +except in connection with and in consequence of that operation of the +sensibility which is _distinction_. Distinction is of multitudinous and +manifold aspects. In all its phases whether it be passive or active +it is naught else than the arising or the assigning of relations. The +attempt to posit an unqualifiedly absolute—that is, an unqualifiedly +unrelated—universe of discourse must be futile and blank, necessarily +and insuperably. Any form of notation that pretends to express such a +universe of discourse, is only saved, if at all, from being unqualifiedly +nonsensical, by standing as antithetical—that is, by being _related_ +to forms of notation that express relation and nothing else than +relation. This rigorously prime operation of distinction is not only pure +relation-ing but it is of that sort of relation-ing that is at once a +distinguishing and a conjoining. The “One and the Many” are insuperably +implicit therein. Distinction having operated to various extents, and +thereby various relations having come into view, we become aware of those +items of experience that are objects or facts. Each and every one of +these objects or facts are in truth distinguished and are therefore in +no strict sense _indiscernible_ from each other, but since no science +can possibly obtain in relation to mere particulars we find it useful to +disregard various points of distinction that obtain in respect to various +objects and facts and to converge our regard upon the points wherein +distinction, not absolutely vanishes, but _tends to vanish_. + +By this operation, which is _abstraction_, various objects and facts +become in mental regard fit and useful to be taken as copies of one +another and as indifferent for use in most of the turns of mental life. + +There are indeed various relations, objects, and facts, with respect to +which no further operation or operations of distinction than the mere +distinctions of the time, the place, or the occasion of their various +manifestations have been applied nor can without great difficulty be +applied. But we are therefore by no means entitled to say that such +are in truth irresolvable. Contrarily, and reasoning inductively we are +justified in concluding that every relation, object, and fact will under +analysis of adequate power resolve without limit into other relations, +objects, and facts. + +We are not yet prepared to see that the ultimate components of relations, +objects, and facts resolve into relations, and nothing but relations, +because we are not yet prepared with an explicit idea of the nature and +characteristics of these elementary objects. + +The study of M. Mouret since it starts with relations combining them +under the conditions of Solidarity Co-Existence, Abstraction and +Relativity, (which are nothing else than other relations or compounds +of relations,) does not seem to us to advance us at all in the most +fundamental requisite. He says no more than to say that in order for the +groups of relations to generate further definite relations the relations +thus grouped together must be related to one another and then that most +of these relations must be disregarded. + +M. Mouret distinguishes, with respect to a relation three factors, the +_Matter_, or the relational elements grouped together, the _Form_, or the +order in which the relational elements are arrayed, and the _Foundation_. + +As his study of the topic of relations is professedly for the purpose +of enabling him the better to solve the nature of the relation of +mathematical equality, his success may be estimated by reference to +his conclusions in regard to that relation. These are as follows: “The +relation of equality is formed of undetermined matter, it possesses a +binary form, and has for a condition a relation of indiscernibility +between the two elements.” + +Such conclusions appear to us to be impotent not to say erroneous. If +two things obtain at all, they obtain as two and not one, in very virtue +of being distinguished the one from the other. Except with regard to +some more or less arbitrary distinctions, like the distinction between +coincident points, all distinctions obtain only in virtue of some +relation that can be nothing else than a point of _discernibility_. +Numbers and other mathematical things are taken as not-different not +because they are in truth indiscernible but because for the turn in hand +their points of difference are irrelevant. + +Concerning the much mooted question of the proper field of logic as a +science M. Mouret holds it to be the “science of relations and general +concepts.” Although we hold that logic is particularly concerned with the +lore that is more directly related to the phenomena of erroneous thinking +and its correction, the view of M. Mouret is not unacceptable. “Reasoning +consists in the observation that where certain relations subsist certain +others are found,” as Mr. Peirce has remarked. + + +VI. CONCERNING MEANINGS AND EXPLANATIONS. + +As preliminary to our account of relations we will make an observation +which seems to us of considerable use in connection therewith. It is +not without its bearing on the theory of definition or rather upon the +broader theory of explanation. With M. Mouret we hold that every concept +and relation resolves into a compound of relations. Since relations are +data that are absolutely elementary at least so far as we are at present +instructed they are of course not subsumable under any other sort of +data that are better known. Moreover, whatever explanation we here make +must needs be made by means of written words. Thus an important question +arises as to what method is to be pursued in this special exigency. The +theory of definition leads us to the same difficulty, for although the +meanings of many words can be defined in terms that are more proximate +to the elementary relations, we will always come at last to terms that +admit of no improved explanation by such a method. There is no device +of words that can evade or supersede the ultimate recourse to things. +Now the significations of words are learned in most cases not so much by +definitions and verbal descriptions as by _the observation of the various +applications of the words_. Indeed this is the primitive way in which the +meanings of words are found out. The child knows nothing of what, say, +the word _horse_ means until some one shows it an actual horse and may +be pointing to it says repeatedly, _horse_, in such a way as to excite +the observation of the child to the intended application of the word to +the thing. This is because the relation of every general sign to its +object subsists only in consequence of a mental association, and until +this mental association is created the sign has no meaning. The methods +of evoking these mental associations are at present quite unmethodical +and do not receive the attention which their importance merits. One +feasible method is to present or to state a number of scenes that shall +present the object in various ways in connection with the sign thereof, +and thus to excite attention to the proper application of the sign. The +geometer does this by means of his diagrams without which or their mental +counterparts all his mere words would be in vain. + +Mr. Edward T. Dixon has lately published a work on the “Foundations of +Geometry” in which he would introduce as a fundamental datum what is +really an altogether new and exceedingly abstract conception which he +calls by an old name, that of _direction_. The old term has never been +as yet taken in any abstract universal sense because apart from definite +right lines showing it as an attribute any abstract universal meaning +is wholly unassignable. But the conception that Mr. Dixon would instal +is removed in abstractness from such a universal yet one more step in +universality. A three-fold infinity of right lines differing in direction +can be drawn in ordinary space to each of which pertain two corresponding +universals of direction, one converse to the other. Now the conception +of direction that Mr. Dixon proposes for service as an elementary +geometrical datum is the universal that subsumes all these lower ranking +universals as particulars. Of course he has difficulty in even trying to +explain what he means. Realising the impossibility of subsuming it in +any way he takes a method which if it were more thoroughly applied, and +wholly emancipated from the lingering notion of definition, might have +been more successful. As he actually left the matter his real meaning +can only be drawn from close study of the way in which he applies the +term in his discourse in general. + +Owing to its excessive abstractness his conception is wholly unfit for +service in elementary geometry. One has to become a good geometer before +the conception can even be approached. + + +VII. ANOTHER THEORY OF RELATIONS. + +We shall proceed to explain what we regard as a true and adequate notion +of a relation by stating some scenes that display the same. We do not +regard it as needful to state many of them and we take for our first one, +the common transaction of making a donation. We have here for relational +elements or terms as they are usually called a set of three. Separately, +or as not yet brought into relation in virtue of the giving, there may +be, say _G_ an owner of _W_ a watch and _R_ the intended beneficiary. The +plural fact of the giving is the _relationship_ or the _foundation_ of +the _relations_ that arise in virtue of said giving. This _foundation_ +becomes to be in virtue of the creation of such relations by the giving. +Either one of the set of three may be taken as the datum of reference and +according to the election in this respect, the relations may differ and +the technical names we are about to give will vary in their application. +Since simplicity will be gained thereby and also our present turn fully +subserved we will take _G_ as the datum term of reference. So taking +it _G_ is called the _relate_ and both _W_ and _R_ are called the +_correlates_. For this present turn and in very virtue of the giving and +only in virtue thereof _G_ becomes related to _W_ and _R_ in a certain +relation one of the names of which is giver. When _W_ or _R_ are taken +as relates certain other relations appear, some of the names of which +are respectively _present_ and _recipient_. In relation to the relation +of giver the relations of present and recipient are named _converse_ +relations, as are likewise the relations of present and giver to the +relation of recipient and the relations of giver and recipient to the +relation of present. Here are three distinct relations growing out of +the same relationship or foundation. As each relational element has its +corresponding negation, the true logical system of a set of three terms +involves not less than eight relations. + +We take for our second scene the case of a boundary. This might be a +surface or a point but we will take the special case of a line on a +surface. Here we have again a set of three, the spread on one side, _A_, +the opposite spread, _B_, and the line _L_. _A_ has a certain relation, +say above, to _L_ and _B_, _B_ has the certain relation, below, to _A_ +and _L_, which relation is converse to the relation above: and _L_ has +the certain relation, boundary, to _A_ and _B_ which relation is converse +to the relations above and below. + +The two examples now given are cases of the _conjugative_ kind. The +relationship is a conjugative one and the relations are conjugative +relations. The distinguishing characteristic of a conjugative case is the +fact essentially involved of the mediation between relational elements +by another certain element, or in other words the bringing of diverse +relational elements into relation by the function of another relational +element. Without the mediation or function of this conjugating element +neither the relationship nor the conjugative relations can exist. There +is reason to believe that all conjugative cases can be certified as cases +of three relational elements or as compounds of a number of such sets of +three. To ordinary uncritical thought which is largely constrained by +the trammels of ordinary language the most abundant sort of relations +appears to be of that sort that are taken to involve only two relational +elements. These are cases of what are called _dual_ relationships and the +relations that arise out of them are called _dual_ relations. Such are +those like father, son, husband, wife, etc. Strictly viewed they ought to +be regarded as _degenerate_ relationships and relations just as a pair of +lines is regarded as a degenerate conic. + + +VIII. CAUTIONS AND APPLICATIONS. + +Now besides the error of confounding relations with relationship, it is +a very common fault to think and speak of a relation as being _between_ +two or more terms. This imports into thought the thoroughly misleading +idea of an intervening independent existence for relations. Relations are +attributive predicates of terms and each one of them pertains strictly to +its proper term or combination of terms, in the same sense for this turn +(_pro hac vice_) that qualities are held to pertain to their so-called +substances. And yet relations so pertain to their proper terms not in +virtue of such terms separately but in virtue of their membership in +the plural fact which obtains as the _relationship_ or _foundation_. +The notion of a relation as a “betweenness” has perhaps been fostered +by the exact coincidence of relations pertaining to the several members +of the same relationship. When on contemplating the connection, say +of two points, we observe that the distance of one from the other is +apparently indistinguishable from the distance of the other from the one, +we naturally overlook the fact that we are truly to regard the connection +as the coincidence of two really distinct relations, and regarding the +pair of relations as one thing and finding it not attributable to one +point more than to the other we dissociate it from both. But when we +consider a pair of relations that are converse to one another and that +arise out of a dual relationship like that of husband and wife we may see +that there is _no_ betweenness, no single relation that interlies, but +two relations, one the relation of husband and the other the converse +relation of wife. + +An interaction, say like that of approach under the influence of +gravitation, is a relationship. Each body stands in the relation of a +_puller_ of the other and the mediating term which we find impossible to +argue out of the account we call the attraction of gravitation. In this +case the relation of action of the one body is not usually distinguished +from the relation of action of the other one. Indeed this is the case in +all cases of mechanical action and we lay it down as a maxim that action +and reaction are equal but they are not alike since their directions are +opposite. Sensation is a relationship, since it is our interaction. +The object interacts with the brain. As to the conjugating term we are +as yet in the dark and so we are in the habit of regarding this case +as a dual relation. The relation of the brain to the object is that of +a _knower_ and that of the object to the brain that of a _stimulater_. +Each character or mark of the object that becomes apparent gives rise to +relations and their respective converses each correlative pair of which +are respectively so many distinct interactions of detail in the entire +interaction. Whatever an object as known to us is, it is in virtue of +those relations of brain action and detailed object stimulation, which +are relations and always relations. Since consciousness exists only +by the arising of relations of distinction, supposably in consequence +of internal brain interaction, is it presumptuous to allege that +consciousness consists of relations or a complex of relations? + + +IX. NATURE OF OBJECTS. + +With regard to the object no one can prevent whoever may be so disposed, +from imputing to it various points of possession that do not and cannot +interact with the brain. So far as such imputed points are regarded +as merely not yet interacting but possible to interact with knowing +substance such points in no wise differ in essential nature from the +known attributes. They are potential relations and nothing else. But in +so far as they are regarded as essentially impossible of ever interacting +with knowing substance in any possible stage of its development such +regard is pure nonsense and utterly without any assignable meaning. There +is no occasion whatever for such an imputation, for the existence of +interaction actual or potential is fully adequate to explain all that +will ever present itself to be explained. + +At this point let us instruct ourselves with an example of the reasonings +of a much and deservedly honored philosopher. He says: + + “In the most general predicate which is determined Being + or existence—for all things in the universe are determined + beings—we have an evident two-foldness (a composite nature) + which allows of a further analysis into pure Being and + determination.” + +We will parallel this analysis. For the sake of simplicity we will take +a limited right line. It has the determinations straight and long, not +length in the sense of measure, for length is ambiguous in its intent, +but length in its qualitative sense—its linearity so to speak. Now +separate from it first its straightness without however giving to it +any other determination, and then its quality of longness. We have then +a _pure_ line, that is neither straight, nor long, nor anything else. +Such is an example of “Pure Being.” _We_ say however that its very being +as a line is absolutely dependent on its determination as a long line; +that such a determination alone constitutes it a line, is at once its +determination and its being, that there is no two-foldness at all but +only two names, and that as one-fold its determination as long and its +being vanish together. What is true of a line is true of all relations +and compounds of relations whatever. + +Thus not only all knowledge but all existence so far as that term can +ever have any meaning is relative; relative to all intents and for every +possible turn. + +To those who accept the essentials of this account of relations it will +be easy to see what is the nature of an object and that of a concept +or notion. An object is a relation or some congeries of relations that +usually present themselves as a coherent whole to our sensibility or to +consciousness. This is primarily effected in virtue of some efficacy +which we cannot appropriate to ourselves, and so we distinguish our own +personality from that manifold that we call the objective world. It is +pure self-stultification after having made this most useful distinction +to try and abolish it. Nothing but an utter abolition of all useful +thought can result from so taking the data of experience. + + +X. NATURE OF A CONCEPT. + +But objects are individual and generally found with various points of +distinction some of which are irrelevant to most of the turns of mental +life. We therefore neglect the irrelevant points and take many objects +as copies of one another. This process is _not_ the formation of the +concept or notion but it suggests and prompts that formation. We cannot +but regard it as an error to take a conception as a _sum_ of individuals. +It seems to us to be rather in the nature of a _locus_. A curve contains +an infinity of points and yet the curve is not any sum of points even +though it is often allowable to speak of it as the sum of all its points. +So any concept, say, man, is not all the men that now live nor yet all +the men that eternity both backwards and forwards has contained and will +contain. A concept is a manifold and strictly universal and infinite +in respect to the particulars it subsumes. We speak of the infinitive +mood of a verb because the meaning of the word as thus taken is not put +under any modification. In like manner the meaning of any concept though +subject to various limitations in its applications is as a concept merely +to be regarded as obtaining in a purely infinitive sense. Professor +Jevons found a difficulty in classifying what he called _material_ +terms, such as stone, sand, water, etc. Other logicians have put such +terms as singular terms, while still others have classed them as general +terms. There is a great variety of such terms. Potatoes, wheat, butter, +ice, cattle, water, hydrogen, the names of all the elements, ether, +electricity, time, space, love, virtue, etc., are instances. It seems to +us that such terms are the normal types of general terms and that the +canonical forms of our universal propositions ought to be unquantified +not only as regards the predicates but also as regards the subjects. Why +not “man is animal” just as “lard is grease” or “man is mortal” just as +“butter is cheap”? + +Moreover the distinction between a general concept and one that is called +singular is only one of degree and not of kind. Every so-called singular +term is potentially at least only an individual instance under a possible +general or universal concept. A striking example of this potentiality is +furnished by the modern generalisations of that formerly singular term, +space. If these observations are well founded, the universals of thought +even though arising out of the facts of experience and rigidly beholden +to experience for every last element out of which they are constructed, +form nevertheless a Formal-Thought-World, and the mind of man in virtue +of its powers of imaginative construction and generalisation has a +constitution that enables it to subsume the actual objective universe as +only one particular of a universality of a higher rank. + +Under such a conception of the objective world and the world of thought +and their relations the old dispute of realism versus nominalism would +take a new aspect. _Universals in re_ even though they were admitted +to exist would become universals no longer in the higher universe of +thought. True universals would only subsist as universals of the world +of mind. The laws of Form and Formal Thought would thus become of chief +moment in philosophy and no one could be recognised as properly laying +claim to the title of philosopher without proficiency therein. + + +XI. FALLACY OF THE SPENCERIAN AXIOM. + +Concerning the “axiom of symmetry” only a few examples of its fallacy are +needful. Mutual friendship is certainly a “symmetrical” relation, but _A_ +and _C_ may be mutual friends and _B_ and _C_ mutual friends also, but it +in no wise follows that _A_ and _B_ are friends. They may be decidedly +unfriendly as we often see the case. Take a case of equilibrium the +cases of which seem to be favorite ones with M. Mouret. We suppose that +planets may be regarded as in a relation of equilibrium with the sun and +yet these mere equilibrations with the sun do not make any equilibrium +between them. They do not knock together it is true but this is due to +their own direct relations and not their relations of equilibrium with +the sun. + +The distances of points from each other is a “symmetrical” relation and +yet point _A_ may be from point _C_ the very same distance that point _B_ +is from _C_, but the distance of points _A_ and _B_ from one another may +vary from coincidence to double the distance _A C_-_B C_. + + +XII. NATURE OF ARITHMETICAL EQUALITY. + +Concerning the relation of “mathematical equality” there is no single +relation that obtains throughout mathematics as such. There is numerical +equality upon which the equality in service in numeric algebra is +founded, and there is geometric equality, the equality of vectors, etc., +all different from one another. M. Mouret seems to have only numeric +equality in view. He claims this relation to be not only of a very simple +nature but that it is the very foundation of the notions of magnitude and +quantity. He even declares that mathematics could not exist without this +relation. Did he lose sight of the usual proof of Fourier’s celebrated +theorem? + +As we have explained, things that are distinguished are not really alike +but only for certain turns taken to be so. This assimilation of things is +of various grades. In arithmetic, meaning arithmetic in its most general +sense, the only logical comprehension that the various numbers possess +is respectively their greater or less partitionability; _m_ is the same +as _n_ means in arithmetic that whatever has the numerical rank of _m_ +has also precisely the numerical rank of _n_ no matter what summations +or other numerical operations _m_ or _n_ may represent. Identity of +this sort is arithmetical equality. It seems a simple relation for the +reason that its intervention very decisively simplifies our arithmetical +comprehensions. It is however a coincidence of two relations that are +converse to one another. These relations are “not less than” and “not +greater than.” It is universally admitted that the more inclusive a +notion or concept is in extension, the more simple and primary it is than +any other notion or concept included as an instance under it. Now all +equality is “not less than” but not all “not less than” is necessarily +equality; hence, “not less than” is a wider and more primary notion than +equality. On the same considerations “not more than” is in the same +case. Equality is the limiting case between the variable and logically +more simple cases of “not less than” and “not more than.” The notion of +quantity emerges on comparison however vague between any two objects that +have size, independently of the notion of equality. If this were not true +how could we have the notions of infinitely large and infinitely small. + +It is indeed true that without the notion of equality the theory of +numbers and the mathematical analysis could subsist in a rudimentary +state only, but to say that they would not exist at all is rash and +not maintainable. The relations “not less than” “not more than” would +still allow of some truly mathematical propositions, operations, and +calculations. In that essentially qualitative notation that is ordinary +language the relation that corresponds to equality is of very limited +range but a relation that is analogous to “not less than,” viz., +supersumption, is very efficient. + +With a theory of numbers and a mathematical analysis using only the +relations “not less than” “not more than” in lieu of the relation of +equality the fundamental operations, addition and substitution, would +find some scope of application and hence the derivative operations, +multiplication, powering, etc., and their inversions, subtraction, +division, etc., would obtain in some fashion and to some extent. This +can readily be seen by any one who is familiar with the way in which +expressions of inequality are used in modern mathematical analysis. + + FRANCIS C. RUSSELL. + + + + +OBSERVATIONS ON SOME POINTS IN JAMES’S PSYCHOLOGY. + + +II. EMOTION. + +Nothing in Professor James’s work will be likely to strike the average +reader as more paradoxical than his views on the subject of Emotion, +which he must be allowed to state in his own words. After premising that +he will limit his discussion, in the first instance, to what may be +called the coarser emotions, as fear, grief, rage, love, in which every +one recognises a strong organic reverberation, he goes on to say: + + “Our natural way of thinking about these coarser emotions is + that the mental perception of some fact excites the mental + affection called the emotion, and that this latter state of + mind gives rise to the bodily expression. My theory, on the + contrary, _is that the bodily changes follow directly the + perception of the existing fact, and that our feeling of the + same changes, as they occur, is the emotion_. Common sense + says, we lose our fortune, are sorry and weep; we meet a bear, + are frightened and run; we are insulted by a rival, are angry + and strike. The hypothesis here to be defended says that this + order of sequence is incorrect, that the one mental state + is not immediately induced by the other, that the bodily + manifestations must first be interposed between, and that the + more rational statement is that we feel sorry because we cry, + angry because we strike, afraid because we tremble, and not + that we strike, cry, or tremble, because we are sorry, angry or + fearful, as the case may be. Without the bodily state following + on the perception, the latter would be purely cognitive in + form, pale, colorless, destitute of emotional warmth. We might + then see the bear and judge it best to run, receive the insult + and deem it right to strike, but we should not actually _feel_ + afraid or angry. + + “Stated in this crude way, the hypothesis is pretty sure + to meet with immediate disbelief. And yet neither many nor + far-fetched considerations are required to mitigate its + paradoxical character, and possibly to produce conviction of + its truth. + + “To begin with, no reader of the last two chapters will be + inclined to doubt the fact that _objects do excite bodily + changes_ by a preorganised mechanism, or the farther fact + _that the changes are so indefinitely numerous and subtle + that the entire organism may be called a sounding-board_ + which every change of consciousness, however slight, may make + reverberate.... + + “The next thing to be noticed is this, that _every one of + the bodily changes, whatsoever it be, is FELT, acutely or + obscurely, the moment it occurs_.... + + “I now proceed to urge the vital point of my whole theory, + which is this: _If we fancy some strong emotion, and then try + to abstract from our consciousness of it all the feelings of + its bodily symptoms, we find we have nothing left behind_, no + ‘mind-stuff’ out of which the emotion can be constituted, and + that a cold and neutral state of intellectual perception is + all that remains. It is true that, although most people when + asked say that their introspection verifies this statement, + some persist in saying that it does not. Many cannot be made + to understand the question. When you beg them to imagine away + every feeling of laughter and of tendency to laugh from their + consciousness of the ludicrousness of an object, and then to + tell you what the feeling of its ludicrousness would be like, + whether it be anything more than the perception that the object + belongs to the class ‘funny,’ they persist in replying that + the thing proposed is a physical impossibility and that they + always _must_ laugh if they see a funny object. Of course the + task proposed is not the practical one of seeing a ludicrous + object and annihilating one’s tendency to laugh. It is the + purely speculative one of subtracting certain elements of + feeling from an emotional state supposed to exist in all its + fulness, and saying what the residual elements are. I cannot + help thinking that all who rightly apprehend this problem + will agree with the proposition above laid down. What kind of + an emotion of fear would be left if the feeling neither of + quickened heart-beats nor of shallow breathing, neither of + trembling lip nor of weakened limbs, neither of goose-flesh nor + of visceral stirrings, were present, it is quite impossible + for me to think. Can one fancy the state of rage and picture + no ebullition in the chest, no flushing of the face, no + dilatation of the nostrils, no clenching of the teeth, no + impulse to vigorous action, but in their stead limp muscles, + calm breathing and a placid face? The present writer, for one, + certainly cannot. The rage is as completely evaporated as the + sensation of its so-called manifestations, and the only thing + that can be supposed to take its place is some cold-blooded + and dispassionate sentence, confined entirely to the judicial + realm, to the effect that a certain person or persons merit + chastisement for their sins. In like manner of grief: what + would it be without its tears, its sobs, its suffocation of the + heart, its pang in the breast-bone? A feelingless recognition + that certain circumstances are deplorable, and nothing + more. Every passion in turn tells the same story. A purely + disembodied human emotion is a non-entity.” (P. 449 seq.) + +It is, of course, impossible for me to give all the arguments by which +Professor James attempts to establish his position; the above quotations +will make it clear what it is—namely, that all our “feelings” are +sensations. + +Before proceeding to consider some of the objections to this view of the +matter, it may be well to notice briefly what seems to be a gap in the +author’s treatment of it. In adult human beings, very few, comparatively, +of what are ordinarily recognised as emotions follow directly upon the +perception of their objects, in the ordinary sense of the word. His +theory might perhaps suffice, without further explanation for such cases +as the “spitting” of blind kittens at the smell of a dog, or the rage +of a bull at the sight of a red cloth, or the startled feeling that we +experience at a loud and unexpected sound, if the latter should be called +an emotion. But in the immense majority of instances the emotions of +which he treats arise in a very different way. + +Some of his own illustrations will serve as well as any to show this. For +instance, neither running nor any other of the symptoms of fear which he +enumerates is the necessary result of seeing a bear. A chained or caged +bear may excite only feelings of curiosity, and a well armed hunter might +experience only pleasurable feelings at meeting one loose in the woods. +It is not, then, the perception of the bear that excites the movements +of fear. We do not run from the bear unless we suppose him capable of +doing us bodily injury. Why should the expectation of being eaten, for +instance, set the muscles of our legs in motion? “Common sense” would +be likely to say it was because we object to being eaten, but according +to Professor James, the reason we dislike to be eaten is because we run +away. So, again, striking is not a reflex act, following on the hearing +of an insult as sneezing does on taking snuff. Whether the muscular +movements or the emotions are the primary thing, what both shall be +depends on many things besides the words that are spoken. To be accused +of drunkenness or unchastity, for instance, would dispose some persons to +violence, but others might feel only the stirrings of pride at what they +would consider a tribute to their manhood. In those who considered such +a charge opprobrious, it might excite feelings of amusement, contempt, +pity, or grief towards the one making it, according to the estimation in +which he was held. To say that if it makes us strike we shall be angry, +if it makes us laugh we shall be amused, if it makes us weep we shall +be grieved, does not go to the bottom of the matter. According to the +theory, the thought of the estimation in which we are held by others +is, in itself, entirely indifferent to us, and only affects our feelings +through the muscular movements it excites. + +In view of the variety of these movements in response to the same +physical stimulus in a case like this, the statement that objects excite +bodily changes by a preorganised mechanism explains nothing. We want to +know why in one case a given perception excites one set of movements, +and in another an entirely different set. Without attempting to decide +whether or not a satisfactory explanation can be given on Professor +James’s hypothesis, I will only say, that, so far as I can see, he +nowhere attempts it. In his section on “The Genesis of the Various +Emotions,” (pp. 477 seq.), he only discusses the question how the various +feelings come to be associated with their respective movements. How the +movements come to be associated with the perceptions, he does not discuss +at all. + +Turning now to the considerations which Professor James urges in support +of his theory, quoted above, the first two—that objects excite bodily +changes and that these changes are more or less distinctly felt—may +pass unchallenged. I am disposed to go as far with him as to admit +that these feelings, in the cases which he describes, may properly +be considered components of the emotional state. But when he affirms +that there is nothing else—that if we subtract our consciousness of +peripheral sensations there would be no emotion left—it seems to me that +he is going very much too far. I should have no hesitation in saying +that such a statement of the case is contradicted by my consciousness, +but as that would be merely setting up my consciousness against his, +without the possibility of an umpire, I will call attention to some other +considerations which seem to me to render it improbable. + +In the first place, it is to be noticed that the cases he instances in +illustration of his position are all of violent emotions. Admitting that +we cannot have these emotions, in such degree, without movements such as +he describes, nor even imagine how they would feel if such a thing were +possible, it does not follow because they cannot be separated that they +are identical. We do not reason in this way in regard to those feelings +which are not commonly called emotions. I can no more imagine myself in +intense bodily pain without a tendency to groan and writhe than deeply +grieved without a tendency to weep, and yet no one, probably, would say +that the pain consisted solely in my consciousness of the groaning and +writhing. If grief is a kind of pain, it is to be expected that, in a +high degree, it will produce bodily movements more or less similar to +those excited by other sorts of pain. All these emotions, however, are +capable of infinite gradations in intensity. The fear of losing one’s +pocket handkerchief is an emotion of the same kind as the fear of losing +one’s fortune. In Professor James’s description of fear, it is evident +that he has abject terror in mind; I hardly think it probable that he +has any such sensations, when he fears, for instance, that he will be +late to dinner, and yet he must be differently constituted from many of +his fellow-men if his state of mind in such a case is merely a cold, +intellectual cognition of the fact that such a state of affairs would be +undesirable. + +The same is true of the other emotions he mentions. The feeling of the +ludicrous is, perhaps, the strongest case he cites, but in my own case +slight degrees of amusement do not excite laughter, or even any conscious +disposition to laugh. There is, at the most, in such cases, a tendency +to smile, which may be overpowered by some other emotion, without in the +least impairing my feeling of amusement. It seems to me certain that +slight degrees of all the emotions mentioned may be unaccompanied by any +distinct consciousness of reflex movements. In such cases it is only +by a pretty strong effort of attention that we are able, if at all, to +determine what the bodily changes are, although we are distinctly aware +of the emotion. + +Again, it is to be noticed that many actions, similar in character to +those we have been considering, are not associated with what are commonly +called emotions. Laughing and sobbing, for instance, are spasmodic +movements of the muscles of respiration, not strikingly different from +hiccuping, and there seems no good reason why the consciousness of +the former two should usually be felt as strong emotional excitement, +while the latter is not. In some cases, movements identical with those +accompanying particular emotions may occur entirely independently of +them. Shivering from cold, for instance, is the same sort of a movement +as may occur in violent fright, but it does not make us feel frightened. +The laughter excited in children and sensitive persons by tickling of the +skin is not necessarily accompanied by any mirthful feelings. The act of +vomiting may be the accompaniment of the most extreme disgust, or it may +occur without a trace of such emotion. Professor James himself gives an +instance of this sort that can hardly be bettered: + + “The writer well remembers his astonishment, when a boy of + seven or eight, at fainting when he saw a horse bled. The + blood was in a bucket, with a stick in it, and if memory does + not deceive him, he stirred it round and saw it drip from the + stick with no feeling save that of childish curiosity. Suddenly + the world grew black before his eyes, his ears began to buzz, + and he knew no more. He had never heard of the sight of blood + producing faintness or sickness, and he had little repugnance + to it, and so little apprehension of any other sort of danger + from it, that even at that tender age, as he well remembers, he + could not help wondering how the mere physical presence of a + pailful of crimson fluid could occasion in him such formidable + bodily effects” (p. 457). + +Here we have a condition such as is sometimes experienced in connection +with the most extreme degree of fear or grief unaccompanied by any +emotion except astonishment at its occurrence. I presume that if a person +should faint on hearing bad news, Professor James would consider that one +of the causes of his intense emotion. Why did it have no such effect in +this case? + +Assuming that the emotions are the effects and not the causes of what +are usually reckoned as their “expression,” it seems evident that a +given movement or set of movements must uniformly, at least in the same +subject, give rise to the same feeling, and that in the case of opposite +emotions such as joy and grief, hope and fear, the more intense the +emotion, the more unlike must be the actions from which it arises. +Neither of these is the case. On the contrary, it would seem to be the +fact that the actions accompanying emotion tend to become more alike in +proportion to its intensity. It is not at all uncommon for people to +weep from excess of joy as well as of grief. Pallor and trembling are +frequent accompaniments of the extremes of hope as well as fear. The +naturalist Wallace gives an account of his feelings on capturing a rare +and beautiful butterfly, which is worth quoting in this connection: + + “The beauty and brilliancy of this insect are indescribable, + and none but a naturalist can understand the intense excitement + I experienced when I at length captured it. On taking it out + of the net and opening the glorious wings, my heart began to + beat violently, the blood rushed to my head, and I felt more + like fainting than I have done when in prospect of immediate + death. I had a headache the rest of the day, so great was the + excitement produced by what will appear to most people a very + inadequate cause” (“Malay Archipelago,” p. 342). + +Here it is evident that a feeling of intense exultation gave rise to +sensations very similar, to say the least, to those of extreme fear. + +One other argument brought forward by the author deserves special notice +in this connection: + + “The best proof that the immediate cause of emotion is + a physical effect on the nerves is furnished by _those + pathological states in which the emotion is objectless_. One of + the chief merits, in fact, of the view which I propose, seems + to be that we can so easily formulate by its means pathological + cases and normal cases under a common scheme. In every + asylum we find examples of absolutely unmotived fear, anger, + melancholy, or conceit, and others of an equally unmotived + apathy, which persists in spite of the best of outward reasons + why it should give way. In the former cases we must suppose + the nervous machinery to be so ‘labile’ in some one emotional + direction that almost every stimulus (however inappropriate) + causes it to upset in that way, and to engender the particular + complex of feelings of which the psychic body of that emotion + consists. Thus, to take one special instance, if inability to + draw deep breath, fluttering of the heart, and that peculiar + epigastric change felt as ‘precordial anxiety,’ with an + irresistible tendency to take a somewhat crouching attitude and + to sit still, and with perhaps other visceral processes not now + known, all spontaneously occur together in a certain person; + his feeling of their combination is the emotion of dread, and + he is the victim of what is known as morbid fear” (p. 458). + +Now, it is evident, of course, in such a case as this, that such a +combination of feelings as is here described is not a fortuitous +coincidence of so many independent sensations. They must have a common +starting-point, which cannot well be elsewhere than in the brain. But if +this is the case, it seems to me to be begging the question to assume +that the sensations and not the emotion are the primary thing. On the +assumption that fear, in the normal condition, is the cause of the +disturbances of respiration, circulation, and the like, which accompany +it, it is as easy to formulate normal and pathological cases under a +common scheme, by supposing it to be the cause of the like disturbances +in cases of morbid fear, as on the theory of Professor James. + +It seems to me, then, that the theory does not satisfactorily account for +the facts, so far as the involuntary, reflex accompaniments of motion are +concerned. + +The difficulty is greatly increased when we consider the relations of +emotion to voluntary action. We have seen that reflex acts, similar to, +or identical with those in which Professor James believes emotion to +consist, may occur independently of emotion, in the ordinary acceptation +of the term, at least. Strictly voluntary acts, on the contrary, are +always the concomitants of emotion of some sort. In the great majority +of the ordinary actions of life, they are the only motor phenomena of +which we are aware in this connection. Our whole daily conduct, in our +business and pleasure, our incomings and our outgoings, our downsittings +and uprisings, is inseparably associated with our likings and dislikings, +our hopes and fears. What is the nature of this association? + +Under the theory we are considering, two relations of voluntary acts +to emotion are possible. They may, like the involuntary reactions, +constitute the emotion, or unlike them, result from it. Professor James +does not express himself on the general question, but some of his +illustrations seem to favor the former view. If the man who meets a bear +is frightened because he runs, or the one who is insulted, angry because +he strikes, the voluntary acts of running and striking must, in part, at +least, constitute the emotions of fear and anger in these cases. Let us, +then, consider this case first. + +If I see a shower coming up, and run for a shelter, the emotion is +evidently of the same kind, though perhaps less in degree, as in the +case of the man who runs from the bear. According to Professor James, I +am afraid of getting wet because I run. But supposing that, instead of +running, I step into a shop and buy an umbrella. The emotion is still +the same. I am afraid of getting wet. Consequently, so far as I can see, +the fear, in this case, consists in buying the umbrella. Fear of hunger, +in like manner, might consist in laying in a store of provisions; fear +of poverty, in shoveling dirt at a dollar a day, and so on indefinitely. +Anger, again, may be associated with many other actions than striking. +Shylock’s anger at Antonio’s insults induced him to lend him money. +Did the anger, or revengefulness, or whatever we may call the passion, +consist in the act of lending the money? I hardly think it necessary +to multiply instances in illustration of the fact that the same act is +often associated with the most contradictory emotions, and acts which +are ordinarily indifferent with the most intense feeling; that, in fact, +there is no such uniformity in the associations of emotion with voluntary +conduct as the hypothesis would seem to require. I incline to think that +most people will believe, in the cases cited by Professor James, that the +running and the striking are the results, not the causes of the fear and +anger. + +If we assume such to be the case, we are no better off under the +hypothesis we are considering. Excluding voluntary movements, there +is nothing left of the emotion, according to Professor James, but the +consciousness of involuntary, reflex acts resulting from perception. The +voluntary acts must, then, be directly caused by these. Now, in the +first place, it is often difficult, if not impossible, to tell what these +actions are. What are the involuntary muscular contractions that impel +a day-laborer to go to the place of his work, and keep his voluntary +muscular system in strenuous activity all day, enduring fatigue and all +the discomforts of the summer’s heat or winter’s cold? It would probably +puzzle him very much to tell, although he has a very clear idea of why he +does it. I doubt if, on his own hypothesis, Professor James himself would +find it easy to explain the constituents of the emotions which impel him +to go to the class-room at the appointed hour and conduct a recitation. +But even in cases in which we are distinctly conscious of involuntary +action, there seems to be no connection between it and the voluntary acts +accompanying the emotion. In the case of the man running from the bear, +for instance, trembling lips, weakened limbs, goose-flesh and visceral +stirrings have nothing to do with running, but, on the contrary, would +rather tend to prevent it. In fact, it may be said, in general, that +the two classes of emotional activities are mutually antagonistic. The +more involuntary the action, the less efficient the voluntary activity +is apt to be, as any one knows who has had an attack of the “buck ague.” +We should have, therefore, diminution of the effect with increase of the +cause. + +It seems, then, on the hypothesis, impracticable to account for the +association of voluntary action with emotion either on the supposition +that the former is the cause or the result of the latter. A third +alternative—that there is no relation of cause and effect in the case, +and that the phenomena of emotion and action, although constantly +associated, are really independent, I will not discuss, as it does not +commend itself to my mind, and Professor James, elsewhere, expressly +repudiates it. It seems to me that the only reasonable conclusion is +that emotion is something different from either involuntary or voluntary +muscular activity, and which may be the cause of either or both. + +Professor James, after admitting that the view of the subject which +he advocates is only a hypothesis, and that much is lacking to its +definitive proof, goes on to say: + + “The only way coercively to _dis_prove it, however, would be to + take some emotion and then exhibit qualities of feeling in it + which should be _demonstrably_ additional to all those which + could possibly be derived from the organs affected at the time. + But to detect with certainty such purely spiritual qualities of + feeling would obviously be a task beyond human power.... + + “A positive proof of the theory would, on the other hand, be + given, if we could find a subject absolutely anæsthetic inside + and out, but not paralytic, so that emotion-inspiring objects + might evoke the usual bodily expressions from him, but who, + on being consulted, should say that no subjective emotional + affection was felt. Such a man would be like one who, because + he eats, appears to bystanders to be hungry, but who afterwards + confesses that he had no appetite at all.” (P. 455.) + +Whether the truth of the first of the above paragraphs is to be conceded +or not, depends, I suppose, on the strength of proof necessary for +coercion. The only way, for instance, coercively to disprove the once +prevalent theory that “lunacy” is due to the influence of the moon would +be to abolish the moon. Most intelligent people, however, at the present +day, accept the fact that there seems to be no coincidence between +the moon’s phases and the phenomena of insanity as sufficient proof +for practical purposes of the incorrectness of that theory. It seems +to me that the facts to which I have called attention show a somewhat +similar lack of correspondence in the case we have been considering. I +am, however, unable to see why a case of complete anæsthesia, such as +is supposed in the second paragraph, would not answer nearly as well +for one side of the question as the other, according to the presence or +absence of emotion. To suppose that cutaneous and visceral sensations are +preserved unimpaired for purposes of emotion, while absolutely abolished +for all other purposes, would be putting a pretty severe strain on the +faculty of belief. + +Such cases, as Professor James says, are hard to find. He refers to one, +reported by Strümpell, in which a boy, anæsthetic within and without, +with the exception of one eye and one ear, was stated to have manifested +shame, grief, surprise, fear, and anger. He goes on, however, to say: +“In observing him, however, no such theory as the present one seems to +have been thought of; and it always remains possible that, just as he +satisfied his natural appetites and necessities in cold blood, with no +inward feeling, so his emotional expressions may have been accompanied by +a quite cold heart.” + +Since Professor James’s work was published, two cases have been reported +by Berkley,[57] which, although not, perhaps, conclusive, are of interest +in this connection. In the first, the patient, a woman of English +birth, age not stated, had complete loss of sense of pain, heat and +cold, pressure and equilibrium, of smell, taste, and sight. The sense +of touch, although not completely abolished, was very greatly impaired. +She recognised a hat, for instance, only after feeling of it for a long +time and then seemed doubtful about it. Her sense of the position of the +extremities was also very imperfect, although not entirely abolished; and +there was some deafness, although not enough to render her incapable of +conversation. With regard to her mental state, Dr. Berkley says: + + “The psychical condition has undergone but slight change, she + is possibly a little apathetic, with some slight tendency + towards a melancholic tone, but when aroused and induced to + converse for some time, this in great measure passes away. The + memory is quite good.” + +Dr. Berkley was kind enough to give me the following additional +information about this patient, who, at the time of writing, was still +under observation: + + “Since the coming on of the dullness in hearing there has been + a considerable degree of apathy manifest. She is no longer + conscious of the smaller noises that occur around her, but is + very readily aroused by the voice, and then takes a lively + interest in what is said to her: for instance a few days ago + the resident physician remarked to her that he was going to + obtain a pair of crutches for her use; she laughed heartily + at the idea, and said she would fall and break her leg at the + first step.” + +In response to further inquiries, he writes as follows: + + “1) Visceral sensations. The clearest evidence of visceral + sensation I have noted in my article,” [warning of the + necessity of evacuating the bowels and bladder by a pricking + pain in the lower part of the abdomen,] “no others were + sufficiently definite to be described. For two years there has + been no feeling of hunger or thirst, and as the diet has only + been a few mouthfuls of milk at a time for nearly that period, + there has been no feeling of repletion. + + “2) When the patient laughs at a joke, there is a slight + flushing of the face, besides the ordinary contraction of the + facial muscles; she is aware that she is laughing, but besides + acknowledging that she perceives no difference between the + act now, and some years ago, she is unable to describe the + sensation further. + + “3) Anger. As I think I mentioned in my last letter, the + patient has been a person of unusually equal temper; an + outbreak of real passion has never been observed with her. + When annoyed or teased by some of the other women, there is + a distinct corrugation of the forehead, accompanied by an + exceedingly slight general movement as if of aversion, no + words, movement of the chest, clenching of the hands, etc. She + describes the sensation as one of repulsion. + + “Like Strümpell’s case she shows definitely shame, grief, + surprise, fear, and substituting for anger, repulsion. + + “My own impression derived from observation of the patient + is, that all mental emotional sensibilities are present and + only a little less vivid than in the unanæsthetic state; and + that emotions are approximately natural, and not at all coldly + dispassionate.” + +In the second case, that of a Russian woman, aged thirty-five, there was +complete loss of cutaneous sensibility in all its qualities: the sense of +position (“muscular sense”) was almost completely abolished; the sense of +taste was absent in the anterior two-thirds of the tongue. Smell, sight, +and hearing were preserved. She had left the hospital before the article +was written. In regard to her case, Dr. Berkley writes: + + “While in the most absolute state of anæsthesia (auditory + and visual excepted) there was no departure from a normal + psyche; the woman would sometimes be angered when she did not + understand a question, at others would smile or shake her head, + and would frequently laugh and talk with another Russian woman + in the same ward. There was never the slightest apathy manifest + after the first few days of febrile movement.” + +I give these cases for what they are worth. In the first, it is evidently +impossible to entirely exclude the presence of sensations caused by the +reflex acts, and the second, not having, apparently, been examined with +special reference to the subjective side of her emotional manifestations, +may be open to the same objection which Professor James makes against +Strümpell’s case. To me it seems extremely unlikely that, if the theory +under discussion is correct, such an amount of anæsthesia as existed in +these cases would have produced no obvious effect on the emotions. The +fact that voluntary acts were performed by both these patients as well +as by Strümpell’s case, seems to me conclusive as to the existence of +emotions of some sort in all of them. + +It seems clear to me, from the foregoing considerations, that there are +serious difficulties in the way of accepting Professor James’s theory as +an adequate explanation of all the phenomena of emotion. On the other +hand, I think it contains an important truth, and that, by calling +attention to it, he has rendered a real service to psychology. In order +to make it clear how far I agree with him, it will be necessary to +consider just what feelings are to be classed together under the head of +emotion. + +If we touch our fingers to a live coal, we are conscious of a sensation +of heat, and also of pain. If we take quinine into our mouths, it tastes +bitter, and also disagreeable. So in regard to a very large proportion of +our sensations, we recognise two elements—one which has to do with the +qualities of the object, and, another consisting of the pleasurable or +painful way in which those qualities affect us. The former may be called +the objective element in sensation. We think of the heat as residing +in the coal, whether we are touching it or not, but it never occurs +to us to think of the coal as in pain. The pain is in us—an entirely +subjective feeling. Doubtless there is no more reason to think of heat, +as it is appreciated by our senses, as a property of the coal, than pain, +but that is the way in which we naturally think of it. That these two +elements are really distinct is evident from the fact that the different +senses furnish them in different proportions. Comparatively few sights, +for instance, give any such sensuous pain to the eye as the sensation +produced by getting a grain of sand under the lid, which gives us very +little information in regard to the qualities of the offending substance. +In fact, it is generally true that intensity of pleasurable or painful +sensation is a hindrance to exact knowledge of its object. It is further +evident from the fact that, in disease, one form of sensibility may be +abolished while the other is retained. A person may be able to feel the +slightest touch, and to recognise perfectly the size, shape, and texture +of the objects he handles, and yet feel no pain when cut, struck, nor +burned, or he may have even heightened sensibility to painful impressions +with loss of the power to recognise the sensible qualities of objects. + +Now, although we are accustomed to distinguish between emotions and +purely sensuous pleasures and pains, there are some points, at least, at +which it is not easy to draw the line. My pleasure in the anticipation of +a good dinner is undoubtedly an emotion. Is not my pleasure in eating it +entitled to the same name, and does not the latter consist in the reality +of the sensations which in the former case were enjoyed in imagination? +Is not the enjoyment we feel in the smell of mignonette, the tone of a +sweet voice, the color and form of the rainbow, emotion? Yet it consists +largely, if not entirely, in the agreeableness of the sensations. Most +people would probably think it strange to hear hunger and thirst spoken +of as emotions but would readily agree that desire of food or drink +is as much an emotion as any other desire. Is the desire in this case +anything more than the hunger or thirst? + +I am inclined to think that it is proper to call such pleasures and +pains as I have instanced above emotions, and if so, I see no reason +for denying the name to any sensuous pleasures and pains. If Professor +James’s view is that all feeling is sensation, I should say that all +feeling is emotion. Whether this view is correct or not, I do not see how +Professor James can consistently refuse to accept it. On his theory, the +emotions which he discusses must owe their pleasurable or painful quality +to the pleasurable or painful nature of the sensations in which they +consist. I can see no valid ground for saying that some such feelings are +emotions and others are not. But the essence of emotion is pleasure or +pain. Abstracting these qualities, it would be an indifferent emotion, +which, I think all would agree, is a contradiction in terms. Possibly he +might wish to limit the use of the term to those pleasurable and painful +feelings, which arise not directly, but in a reflex way. He might say, +for instance, that the disagreeableness to the ear of the creaking of an +ungreased axle is not, but the shudder which it gives a sensitive person +is, emotion. In that case, it must be admitted that a sneeze is emotion. +His contention is that we have no other pleasures or pains than those of +sensation. If this be true, a setting off of some sensations as emotions +is, if not an arbitrary, a comparatively useless procedure. + +My own view, then, is that the elements of sensation which I have +spoken of as objective and subjective might, with equal propriety, be +characterised respectively as intellectual and emotional, and that in +this direction the theory under discussion, although true as far as it +goes, does not go far enough. + +However this may be, the admission or denial that these feelings are +emotions does not necessarily affect the question whether or not this is +the only origin, of pleasure and pain. As has already been said, those +feelings to which no one will deny the name of emotions are not usually, +in adult human beings, at least, direct reactions on sensation. If it +be true that the start we give at the unexpected slamming of a door +is a sort of fright, it is a very rudimentary sort compared with that +which one feels when the cry of fire is raised in a crowded theatre. “A +burnt child dreads the fire.” It is not the sight of the fire, but the +thought of the burning, that arouses the emotion. When a man reads in the +newspaper of the death of a friend, or a rise in the value of property +in which he is interested, it is not the sight of the black marks on the +white paper, but the beliefs which, through a long and intricate series +of associations they call up, which move his feelings. If he could not +read, he would see the same announcement without any emotion. The usual +origin of the emotions _par excellence_ is by way of association. + +Suppose that I have taken a nauseous dose, and made a wry face over +it. No one, I presume, would question that the disagreeableness lay in +the unpleasant taste, and not in the distortion of the countenance. +Now, suppose I have to repeat the dose, and my face takes on a +similar expression at the anticipation to that which it wore when I +took it originally. How does this come about? If I can trust my own +consciousness, it is because the vivid reproduction, in memory, of the +unpleasant taste is itself unpleasant. I do not see how it can well be +otherwise. Professor James says (p. 649) that “the first element of +memory is the revival in the mind of an image or copy of the original +event.” How can I have a copy in my mind of a pain if it is not painful? +Take away the painfulness of it and there would be nothing left. I might +remember the circumstances under which it occurred, and judge from +them that I must have suffered pain, but I could not, it seems to me, +remember the pain itself. Whether that is possible or not, I feel sure +that the fact, in my own case, is, that my memory of a pain resembles it +in the same way that my memory of the circumstances in which it occurred +resembles them. If this be the fact, what can be more natural than that +it should excite the same sort of associated movements that were excited +by the original sensation? I cannot make it seem any more credible, to +return to the example mentioned above, that my repugnance to a repetition +of the dose is due to my involuntary movements than that my discomfort in +taking it originally was due to the similar movements that occurred then. + +Suppose that a child who has eaten and enjoyed an orange is offered +another. The sight of it calls up the recollection of the agreeable +taste, and the expectation of a repetition of the pleasant experience +excites expressions of pleasure. If the fruit is snatched away, the +disappointment at the loss of the expected pleasure is distressing, and +very probably may result in his weeping. I hardly think that any one who +will consult his own consciousness will say that the reason he likes the +taste of an orange is that it makes him laugh or smile to get it. He +likes it because it tastes good, and is sorry to lose it for the same +reason. The laughing or weeping is, I think, unquestionably the result of +the pleasure or grief, not of the mere perception of an object in itself +indifferent. + +It is true that emotions of this sort do not always arise by way of +personal association. Young children are apt to be afraid of strangers, +of large animals, and of loud noises. I can remember being frightened +at my first sight of a locomotive. Here we come upon the questions +of inherited experience and natural selection, which can hardly be +discussed in an article like this. The objects of which young children +are instinctively afraid, as a rule, are either dangerous themselves, or +more or less similar to dangerous objects. I see no more difficulty in +supposing that mental pleasure and pain, on the sight of special objects, +may be a matter of organisation than in the case of the analogous +physical sensations. + +My view of the matter, then, is that emotion in the sense in which +the word is commonly used bears the same relation to perceptions or +beliefs that feelings of physical pleasure or pain do to the objective +or intellectual quality of sensations. I am inclined to think it proper +to class all pleasurable and painful feelings together as emotions. +If this view is correct, it would, of course, include those feelings +to which Professor James would confine the term. I should not at all +hesitate to admit that the emotional state of a person who trembles and +turns pale with fear is different from that of one who preserves his +self-possession in the presence of a danger that he realises and dreads. +I think it is true that the voluntary actions prompted by an emotion +have some tendency to intensify it. But, so far as I can analyse my own +feelings, the pleasures and pains of memory and imagination seem to me +just as real as those of sensation, and not at all to be confounded with +them. When I try to subtract all motor reactions and resulting sensations +from the feeling of fear, for instance, there remains not merely the +intellectual perception that the event dreaded is not desirable, but the +perfectly distinct emotional consciousness that I do not desire it. + +This view seems to be favored by the analogy between the relations of +sensation to reflex movement on the one hand, and of perception to +voluntary movement on the other, which will, I think, be found to be very +complete. We have reflex acts which are useful, such as breathing, the +beating of the heart, swallowing and coughing; and others, like groaning, +weeping, and trembling, which seem to be useless. In like manner, +emotions of hope or fear may give rise to voluntary acts calculated to +enable the subject of the emotion to secure or avoid its object. If I +burn my fingers, my hand is involuntarily snatched away. Such would not +be the case if the burn caused no pain. If I see that the house is on +fire, I try to escape, either by extinguishing the fire or by getting +out of the house. It seems to me evident that I should not do so if the +thought of being burned were not painful. Such emotions may also occasion +useless acts, more or less similar to those mentioned above. A person who +saw no way of escape from a burning house might tremble, weep, or groan +from fear. + +On the evolutionary hypothesis, it seems easy to understand how the +reproduction, by memory or imagination, of certain feelings might bring +about movements like those excited by the original feelings. Professor +James would have us believe that this reproduction is always, in itself, +indifferent, that is, merely intellectual; but that it is, nevertheless, +capable of setting up the movements which, in the case of peripheral +stimuli, are the results of pleasure and pain, and that the consciousness +of these movements is, in such cases, the sole cause of the emotional +condition. Such a reversal of relations seems to me highly improbable. +Each one must decide for himself which view is more in accordance with +the facts of his own consciousness. + + W. L. WORCESTER. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[57] _Two Cases of General Cutaneous and Sensory Anæsthesia, without +Marked Psychical Implication._ By Henry J. Berkley, M. D., Baltimore. +[Brain, Part IV. 1891.] + + + + +PROFESSOR ERNST MACH’S TERM SENSATION. + +SUPPLEMENTARY TO HIS CONTROVERSY WITH THE EDITOR. + + +_The Monist_, Vol. I, No. 3, contains a controversy between Prof. Ernst +Mach and myself on some questions of psycho-physics in which Professor +Mach, having reference to an editorial article on “Feeling and Motion,” +regards sensations as the “elements of reality,” “while motion,” he says, +“is a mere mental auxiliary, an artificial expedient.” “Physicists,” we +are told, “have accustomed us to regard the motions of atoms as more real +than the green of trees. In the latter I see a (sensory) fact, in the +former a _Gedankending_, a thing of thought.” + +In contradistinction to Professor Mach I maintained that our scientific +terms, although abstract concepts and things of thought, or noumena, are +after all descriptive of actual facts; they are symbols representing +features of reality. Motions, i. e., that which is meant by the term +motion, is a reality, and what the chemist calls atoms is a definite +quality of certain facts of experience. Atoms are not things in +themselves, as the name seems to suggest, but rather proportional +relations conveniently so expressed as if they were ultimate units or +concrete little bodies of a definite mass or weight. What atoms are, +aside from representing the proportions in which elements combine, we do +not know. We may define “atom” as the minimal weight in which an element +enters into chemical combinations, but such atoms have never been an +object of observation. For aught we know, they may as little be discrete +bodies as a curve consists of discrete straight lines, which, as such, +would be unobservable only because infinitesimally small. The infinitely +small straight line into which a curve is analysed by mathematicians is +a fiction, wisely devised for calculating the path of the curve. This +fiction is as Professor Mach says, an artifice only, not a reality, or +as I say, an allegoric expression to characterise not whole concrete +realities, but certain features of reality in their abstractness. + +Scientific terms are comparable to myths that contain deep religious +truths. The fiction of the myth is only the vehicle of its meaning. The +naked meaning in its abstract purity may be difficult to grasp. Thus +our imagination steps in and completes the picture so as to render it +concrete and easily thinkable. + +Now, when several months ago I met Professor Mach at Prague, our +conversation naturally touched upon the problems which had formed the +subject of our discussion. Professor Mach assented to my speaking of +scientific terms as abstracts. That, accordingly, must be considered +as the point of agreement. But when I proposed that the term sensation +also was according to my terminology an abstract term representing one +feature of reality only and excluding other features, Professor Mach took +exception to it, saying that he understands by sensation reality itself. +Very well then, this is the difference; and this difference is after +all a difference of terms only. I understand by sensation the psychical +feature of the data of experience only, to the exclusion of what may be +called its physical aspect. Sensation accordingly, as I use the term, is +not the whole of the given reality but only one of its qualities. If, as +Professor Mach uses the term, sensation is another name for reality, the +main difference between our views appears to be removed. + + P. CARUS. + + + + +BOOK REVIEWS. + + +VORLESUNGEN ÜBER DIE MENSCHEN- UND THIERSEELE. By _Wilhelm Wundt_. Zweite +umgearbeitete Auflage. Hamburg and Leipsic: Leopold Voss. 1892. + +The new edition of Wundt’s _Menschen- und Thierseele_ is one of the +best existing general introductions to psychology. It preserves nearly +the just mean between the purely introspective and abstract treatment +and the substitution of physiology for psychology with which recent +treatises have familiarised us. The author has completely rewritten +the edition of 1863, which he regards as a youthful indiscretion +(_Jugendsünde_)—retaining only such chapters as could be brought into +harmony with his maturer views and with the developed science of +psycho-physics that has taken the place of the _Zukunftsprogramm_ of +thirty years ago. He has wisely omitted all the superficial and diffuse +chapters on comparative psychology and ethnology which cumbered the +original work; has silently ignored the fantastic speculations as to +the identity of electricity and nerve-force (one of the worst of the +aforesaid youthful sins); and practically abandoned (perhaps as too +esoteric for popular exposition) the elaborate reduction of sensations +and perceptions to unconscious judgments and inferences. + +The first thirteen or fourteen chapters offer a very clear and +interesting résumé of the chief doctrines of the _Physiologische +Psychologie_ in regard to sensations generally, their measurements and +qualities, Weber’s and Fechner’s laws, the special sensations of color, +hearing, and the muscular sense, and the problem of space perception. +Following the plan of the original work in these chapters, the author +aims less at completeness of statement than to present clearly the +distinctive doctrines of modern psychology. In the treatment of certain +themes, e. g. Fechner’s law, and the perception of space, he neglects, +for the sake of clearness, qualifications of detail which the special +student must look for in the larger work. The last sixteen chapters deal +with the feelings, the will, consciousness, attention, association and +apperception, conception, abnormal and animal psychology and instinct, +concluding with two notable lectures on the “Freedom of the Will” and +the “Immortality of the Soul.” It is to these chapters that we must look +for Wundt’s general psychological and philosophical system. Profiting +by recent criticisms he has here set forth his characteristic doctrines +in so clear and definite a final statement that further misconception +of them is hardly permissible. The remainder of this notice will be +devoted to what is perhaps the most interesting question thus suggested: +Wundt’s relation to the associationist psychology of Spencer on the one +side, and to the younger German school of experimental psychologists +on the other. Wundt ignores the Spencerian form of the associationist +psychology, and the young psychologists do injustice to Wundt, neither +side apparently condescending to read with attention the writings of +the other. The debate, so far as it is not merely verbal, springs +from two real differences of method: (1) Wundt in his psychological +analysis habitually takes account of the problems of the theory of +knowledge (_Erkenntnisstheorie_), or ultimate metaphysics, which the +young psychologists endeavor (not always with success) systematically +to exclude. (2) Wundt, gifted with superior powers of introspection, +is more aware than the young psychologists of the infinite complexity +and subtlety of mental states. He prefers, therefore, to a schematic +simplification of the phenomena a terminology and descriptive analysis +that reflect in some measure their manifold diversity. And thus while +Wundt finds the pure associationist psychology barren and tautologous, +the young psychologists see in Wundt’s complicated terminology only a +shamefaced reversion to the discarded psychology of a substantial soul +endowed with autonomous “faculties.” But the analysis of our mental +states which Wundt gives by means of this terminology is really only +a subtler restatement of the analysis of Mill, Spencer, and Taine, to +which the new psychology has not been able to add anything of moment. +It is true that he proclaims the inadequacy of association, even when +translated into the diagrams of a hypothetical cerebral anatomy, to +“explain” fully our conscious active mental life. But in this he is at +one with Spencer (ultimate scientific ideas), J. S. Mill (Examination of +Hamilton), and Schopenhauer (_Epiphilosophie_). It is gross injustice +to stigmatise as an abandonment of the scientific attitude of mind this +occasional passing recognition of the seeming ultimate inexplicability +of things. In no single concrete instance can it be shown that Wundt now +sacrifices the recognised methods and postulates of modern scientific +investigation to the psychological hypostisations which his opponents +detect in his terminology. + +In confirmation of these statements I will give a brief summary of +Wundt’s doctrine of association and apperception with an occasional +indication of its relation to the psychology of Spencer. Wundt +distinguishes the totality of mental states which are perceived from +the presentation at the focus of consciousness which is apperceived. In +this way (substituting everywhere _dunkel bewusst_ for _unbewusst_) he +avoids the metaphysics of the unconscious, while getting the benefit +of the entire analysis of its advocates. I do not think the ultimate +difficulty can be evaded in this way, but will not stop to argue the +point. A further advantage of this distinction is that it makes possible +a dynamic treatment of mental states as “events” in place of the crude +psychology that deals with the conditions of any mental state as so many +ready-made parts externally dovetailed into the completed product. The +active side of consciousness is taken into account from the outset. The +mental state at any moment is described by indicating the presentation +which is then at the focus of consciousness (apperceived) and the +accompanying faintly conscious presentations that qualify its tone and +total effect. The given mental state is “explained” by tracing out the +dynamic readjustments that brought this particular presentation to the +focus, and grouped the faintly conscious presentations about it. Now the +bringing of a presentation to the focus of conscious attention is the +primitive psychical activity, the elementary act of will,[58] and since +Wundt places this at the beginning he rejects all evolution of will or +instinct from reflex action, and thus, it will be said, here at least +puts himself in distinct opposition to advanced scientific thought. +Let us distinguish. So far as we are dealing with the developed minds +we know, Wundt’s distinction is merely the expression of an observed +psychological fact. External volition does go back to internal voluntary +attention and this to a focussing of consciousness for which apperception +is as good a term as another. Such focussing of the attention is for us +now the primary reaction of the “self” on its received impressions. Out +of a given group of presentations I apperceive by preference one and you +another, because at the time my “self,” my mind, differs from yours. +This self may be only a convenient shorthand expression for a passive +product of external forces. The feeling of the reaction of the self may +be an illusion, and its activity may be merely the mechanical action of +a relatively coherent group of presentations when a new presentation is +introduced among them, and the whole process may be explicable in terms +of associations. But the feeling exists, and Wundt has described and +analysed it better than any of his critics. + +On the other hand, if the question is of the hypothetical origin of +mind, we are at once brought face to face with an ultimate metaphysical +problem which the new psychology impatiently ignores, which Spencer +grudgingly acknowledges, but which Wundt and Kantians like Riehl find +confronting them at every stage of their analysis. Conscious mind cannot +conceive of its own origin, and therefore all psychological theories of +development must postulate in some form the elements of consciousness +and will. Nothing that I could add to the dialectics of this question +would influence those who feel no difficulty here. They require a long +course of Kantian criticism or its equivalent. At any rate it is not fair +polemic to class a thinker as unscientific merely because he recognises +this difficulty and gives it expression in his psychology, instead of +contemptuously relegating it to metaphysics. + +After thus laying the foundations in the doctrine of apperception for the +psychology both of cognition and of the will, Wundt proceeds to restate +the associationist analysis of Mill and Spencer in a more elaborate +terminology but in substantial agreement with Spencer till he reaches +the “concept,” when the introduction of apperception gives rise to a +seeming difference. Spencer distinguishes simultaneous from successive +association as carefully as Wundt. What Wundt, after Herbart calls +“complications,” namely the joint reference to one object of a number +of disparate presentations of sense, is clearly described by Spencer +(“Principles of Psychology,” §§ 315-355); and Wundt’s “assimilations” do +not differ appreciably from Spencer’s “still less conscious” processes +of “organic classification” (“Principles of Psychology,” § 320). Into +the metaphysics of the ultimate relations of contiguity and similarity +as laws of association I cannot enter here. Similarity will always be +recognised as ultimate by those who, like Spencer, approach the problem +first from the psychical side, while a purely materialistic treatment in +terms of nervous currents, such as we find in James, will endeavor to +do away altogether with similarity, which simply cannot be expressed in +terms of nerve-structure without reasoning in a circle. Wundt retains +similarity but endeavors to coördinate it with contiguity. The problem is +really identical with the final question of the relations of “mind” and +“body,” and cannot be profitably discussed apart from that question. + +Coming now to the concept and the judgment, we find Wundt affirming +that the different forms of simultaneous and successive association (as +he has defined them) are not an exhaustive classification of mental +processes—that they do not include the concept. Well, he is at liberty +to define his own terms, and before we accuse him of hypostasising a +new faculty to account for the concept, let us scrutinise his meaning. +We shall find that he merely repeats, in a subtler terminology of his +own, the analysis of Berkeley, Mill, Taine, Spencer, and Romanes. +These writers treat the concept as a complicated associational group +held together by the word. Now Wundt, while conceding the theoretic +admissibility of this form of statement, holds that such groups present +so many distinct characteristics that all delicacy of psychological +discrimination is sacrificed by confounding them under one denomination +with other associational complexes. He does not, like Professor James, +bid introspective psychology “throw up the sponge” here, but wishes +to carry his analysis into recesses which the instruments of the +associationists are too clumsy to explore. In the interests of this +analysis he limits the term association to combinations mediated by a +limited number of elements. The (apperceived) concept, on the other +hand, is the product of the reaction of the total mind. This distinction +(whatever we may think of its absolute validity) expresses a finely +observed psychological truth. The distinctive quality of a concept +consists, Wundt says, “_in dem begleitenden Bewusstsein, dass die +einzelne Vorstellung einen bloss stellvertretenden Werth besitze_.” +This feeling he calls the _Begriffsgefühl_, meaning thereby exactly +what Professor James means when he says that “the thoughts by which we +know that we mean the same thing are apt to be very different indeed +from each other,” and that “a polyp would be a conceptual thinker if a +feeling of ‘Hollo! thingumbob again!’ ever flitted through its mind.” +Only, instead of “throwing up the sponge,” Wundt goes on to give a very +interesting account of this feeling in its various degrees of clearness +between the conceptual polyp and the conceiving man. Apperception is +invoked only to name and emphasise the feeling of activity of the self +that enters into the _Begriffsgefühl_, distinguishing it as a reaction of +the total consciousness from the relatively passive associations of what +Romanes would call “recepts.” Psychologists, however, will continue their +fruitless debates on questions of terminology and will still imagine that +Wundt is a belated reactionist. + + PAUL SHOREY. + + +BEITRÄGE ZUR EXPERIMENTELLEN PSYCHOLOGIE. By _Hugo Münsterberg_. Heft 4. +Freiburg i. B. 1892. + +Münsterberg’s fourth _Heft_ begins with studies in association. If _a_ +and _b_ have been independently associated with _m_, can _a_ call up +_b_ without the appearance in consciousness of _m_? The affirmative +answer of common experience was confirmed by Scripture’s experiments. +Associating five Japanese symbols with two series of five German words, +he found that a word of one series tended (without conscious recollection +of the Japanese symbol) to revive the particular word in the other +series that had been associated with the same symbol. Münsterberg, after +repeating and varying the experiment in a number of fields, denies that +any such relation can be observed. He may very well be right on the +question of facts. It is _a priori_ improbable that a transitory and +arbitrary association of a meaningless symbol could modify appreciably +the independent and accidental associative attractions of familiar +words and presentations. The philosophic interpretation is another +question. For our real knowledge it is a matter of indifference whether +we fill out “missing links” with “_dunkel bewusst_,” “_unbewusst_,” or +“cerebral processes that have no psychical correlates.” And yet how much +of contemporary psychologising is a logomachy raging around just this +question. + +Münsterberg’s second series of experiments show clearly the part played +by such missing links in perception. A word is called out just before a +complicated picture is exhibited to the subject. He will usually perceive +first in the picture some object naturally associated with the word, even +though the word has aroused no conscious associations. + +Similarly (III) a hastily seen misprinted word will be interpreted +variously according to the associations of another word called out to the +subject in advance. + +Another series of experiments has for result that even the most commonly +associated word-couples, as table and chair, have no fixed, unconditional +associative attraction for each other in the same or in different minds, +but that the unit of attraction is the “associative constellation.” +This is only common sense, and artificial experiments will never reveal +anything in this field that we cannot learn quite as well in the class +room. “Table” will suggest “logarithm” if the boy is fresh from the class +in trigonometry. + +“The difference between men is in their principle of association” said +Emerson long ago. Münsterberg, who has in his archives records of +fifty thousand experiments in verbal associations, presents a table of +the comparative frequency with which substantives are associated with +superior (more general) or inferior class names, with adjectives or with +verbs to which they stand in the relation of subject or of object. His +chief result is that minds which associate a noun with its higher class +name (_Ueberordner_) think of it as the subject of a verb and do not +associate it with an adjective. The _Unterordner_ thinks of the noun as +object of a verb and associates it with an adjective. The adjective, +then, is not the higher class to which the substantive belongs, but a +limitation of the substantive. The French, if they please, may use this +conclusion to refute Spencer’s contention that “white horse” is a more +natural order than _cheval blanc_. + +The first topic in “memory studies” is the persistence in the +psycho-physical mechanism of the disposition to an acquired automatic +movement, even after the memory of the nerve has been seemingly displaced +by the habit of its contrary. The experiments were trivial, such as +shifting the position of an inkstand from right to left in alternate +months, or wearing a watch alternately in the right or left fob. The +result, a progressive diminution of the mistakes made after every change, +may plausibly be explained by the stimulated attention and consequent +care of the experimenter. The second topic treats of the effect of a time +interval on the exactness of our memory of sensations of movement in eyes +and limbs. The section on “chain reactions” is a methodological study of +the various applications of this experimental method. “The influence of +nervous stimulants on psychic activities” is rather interesting reading, +but yields no important results. Alcohol depresses, tea and coffee +heighten the powers of memory and perception for an hour or two after +absorption. But the harmful effect of the alcohol sometimes passes away +after the first hour. _Grössenschätzung_ is a study of our estimates +of distances on a surface, made by passing the hand over it at arm’s +length, at half arm’s length, etc. From experiments as to the estimate +of absolute tone-distances (as distinguished from musical intervals) +Münsterberg concludes that pure measurements are not possible with three +tones only. Experiments with four tones do not, he says, confirm the law +that distances corresponding to equal differences of vibration are felt +as equal. + +Physiologists have assumed that the symmetrical movement of the limbs +as in swimming or rowing is the natural one; and the alternating or +independent movements, as in walking or writing, are an acquisition +involving inhibitions of the natural innervations. “Even in adult life,” +says Professor James, “there is an instinctive tendency to revert to +the bilateral movements of childhood.” Professor Münsterberg was led to +doubt this view by observing the unsymmetrical motions of a baby in a +warm bath, and experiment has confirmed his scepticism. Complicated joint +motions of both hands (tracing circles or other geometrical figures on a +surface) do not exhibit any tendency, when the attention is distracted, +to assume the symmetrical form. They rather tend to compensate each other +in such a way as to preserve equilibrium with the minimum strain on the +other muscles of the body, and this law leads as often to alternating as +to symmetrical movements of the arms or legs. The case is different of +course with the muscles of the trunk, and may be different in birds, as +it would in us if we spent our lives in swimming or rowing. + +A new method of attacking the problem of localisation is to observe +the effect of altering the circulation in different parts of the +brain. Tentative experiments on one subject seem to show that verbal +associations are readiest when the victim lies on his left side, which +is a happy coincidence with the localisation of the speech centres in +the left frontal convolutions. If these statistics can be trusted, it is +inadvisable to undertake hard mental labor with the head hanging back +over the edge of a chair! + +In the last chapter, certain simple experiments in our estimates of +voluntary movements in varying conditions of mind and body are made the +basis of a far-reaching theory of pleasure, pain, and judgment, the +elements of which can be found in Aristotle, Herbert Spencer, and James. +Münsterberg found by repeated experiments that the accuracy of attempted +reproduction of a fixed and familiar amount of centripetal or centrifugal +movement of finger and thumb along a rod perpendicular to his waistcoat +varied with his condition of fatigue, pleasure, or pain. In a pleasurable +state of consciousness the centrifugal movement was exaggerated while the +centripetal fell short. In pain the reverse relation obtained. Hence he +infers a connection between pain and muscular flexion and pleasure and +muscular extension, or rather, he distinguishes the mere sensation of +pain (_Schmerz_) and pleasure (_Lust_) which may depend on integrations +and disintegrations in the nerve-tissue, from the accompanying feelings +of agreeableness (_Wollust_) or disagreeableness (_Unlust_) which are +due to sensations aroused at the centres by movements of flexion and +extension throughout the body. He thus attaches his special theory of +pleasure and pain to Lange’s and James’s theory of the identity of the +emotions with their bodily concomitants—though he protests against the +metaphysical implications of the doctrine. The origin of the existing +coördination of muscular flexions and extensions with pleasure and pain, +he explains teleologically on the principles of the Spencerian psychology +of evolution. He then proceeds, after Sigwart and Brentano, to revive +the old idea of Aristotle (whom he does not mention) that the judgment +(affirmative or negative) is rather the assumption of an attitude toward +a presentation (_Stellungsnehmende Akte_) than a mere conjunction of +presentations. The affirmative judgment is a faint incipient represented +movement of the self towards a suggested conjunction of presentations. +The negative judgment is a similar movement in the opposite direction. +Ontogenetically these inchoate movements are later than the movements +of acceptance or rejection called forth by a painful or pleasurable +stimulus, and must therefore be treated as derivative phenomena. But the +Kantians may derive some comfort from Münsterberg’s final assurance that +he too believes that “_Erkenntnisstheoretisch das Urtheil primär ist_.” + + PAUL SHOREY. + + +THE SPIRIT OF MODERN PHILOSOPHY. By _Josiah Royce_, Ph. D. Boston and New +York: Houghton, Mifflin & Co. + +We are told by Professor Royce in the preface to this book, that we are +indebted for it to the lady friend to whom it is gracefully dedicated, +who asked him “for some account of the more significant spiritual +possessions of a few prominent modern thinkers,” to be related “in +comparatively brief and untechnical fashion.” The larger portion of the +work is taken up with that subject, exhibiting the general growth of +modern philosophical thought beginning with Spinozism, and terminating +with Monism as the outcome of the doctrine of Evolution. The author’s +purpose is constructive, however, as well as expository. He has his own +philosophical creed, suggested by what he knows of the progress and +outcome of modern thought, and the second portion of the work is the +expression of his thoughts on the world-conception which he regards as +embodying the true spirit of modern philosophy. Professor Royce justly +lays stress on the fact that the theory of evolution is the product +of a genuine and continuous growth. He dwells particularly, moreover, +on the distinction between the _epistemological_ sense of idealism, +which “involves a theory of the nature of our human knowledge,” and +its _metaphysical_ sense, in which it is “a theory as to the nature +of the real world, however we may come to know that nature.” It is in +accord with the latter sense that Fichte, Schelling, Hegel, and their +allies, as believing matter to be an expression of the world-spirit, are +referred to as the idealistic school; and it is in the metaphysical and +not the epistemological sense that the term idealism has been used since +Hegel. The opposite of a metaphysical idealist is “one who maintains +the ultimate existence of wholly unspiritual realities at the basis +of experience and as the genuine truth of the world—such unspiritual +realities for instance as an absolute ‘Unknowable,’ or, again, as what +Hobbes meant by ‘Body.’” This is not, however, the view of the author, +who thinks that the metaphysical idealist alone is in possession of a +successful solution for the epistemological problem. + +Professor Royce divides modern philosophy into three great periods, of +which the first was one of pure and simple naturalism. The supernatural +had then only a secondary interest, and thought was governed by three +ideas—“that nature is a mechanism, that human reason is competent to +grasp the truth of nature, and that, since nature’s truth is essentially +mathematical, geometry is the model science, whose precision and +necessity philosophy, too, must imitate.” During the second period of +modern philosophy there was a gradual change of thought objectivity. +Reason was still the instrument, but it was employed on the mind itself. +It came to be recognised that if man is part of nature’s mechanism, +he is a knowing mechanism. The age was, however, more than one of +self-analysis. Rousseau introduced a sentimental tendency from which came +“a revival of passion, of poetry, and of enthusiasm, whose influence +we shall never outgrow.” To it is traceable the French Revolution +which overthrew all the mechanical restraints of civilisation, and +“demonstrated afresh to the world’s outer sense the central importance of +passion in the whole life of humanity.” + +The period of modern philosophy, which still continues, began with the +publication of Kant’s “Critique of Pure Reason,” the essential doctrine +of which is that man’s nature is the real creator of man’s world, that +visible nature is the expression of the human spirit, the inner structure +of which is therefore the deepest truth for us. This idea is “as old as +deeper spiritual faith itself,” and yet it is the very soul of all our +modern life because it is “the essentially humane view of reality.” For +fifty years Kant’s ideas ruled philosophic thought, and then, through the +progress of science, the doctrine of evolution received formulation, and +confirmation and “external nature has once more gained for us an imposing +authority which makes us in many ways sympathise afresh with the pure +naturalism of the seventeenth century.” We are compelled to omit any +account of the author’s study of the philosophies of Spinoza, Locke, and +Berkeley, or the philosophic systems of Kant and his successors of the +German School of Idealists. Nor can we say anything as to the doctrine of +Evolution, which Professor Royce rightly regards as having had its rise +long before Darwin or Herbert Spencer. Before proceeding to state his +own views, the author takes a cursory glance at modern empirical monism +which he affirms to be rather a suggestion than a philosophy. It is not +surprising, therefore, that he is not content with it although he makes +use of its ideas. + +Let us now see what are the “Suggestions” which Professor Royce offers +as his contribution towards the formation of a world-conception. These +occupy the last four chapters of the work, which are supplemented by a +general summary in the appendix, to the book. For the sake of conciseness +we will make use of this summary, according to which there are two +phases of idealistic doctrine, the Analytic Idealism of Berkeley and the +Synthetic Idealism of Kant and his successors. The former shows that if +the world is to be knowable at all, it must be, in its deepest nature, a +world of ideas, that is, it exists “only in so far as beings with minds +actually _know it to be_.” The objection that nobody can _know_ any +reality beyond his own self, is met by the synthetic phase of idealism +which shows us that “there is but one self in the world, the logos or +world-mind. The _finite_ self knows truth beyond its own limitations, +just because it is an organic part of the complete Self.” What are the +demands of idealism as thus stated? They have relation, first, to the +interpretation of the facts of experience, which must be in terms of +the doctrine of the world-mind, and, secondly, to experience itself, +on which we depend “for the revelation of that truth which, for us +finite beings, must remain a fast ‘outer’ truth, just because it is the +content of other mind than our own bits of selfhood, and is universally +true for all intelligences.” The philosophy of experience having to do +with facts and with the interpretation of facts, it is necessary to +distinguish between what is really “outer” and what is “inner” about our +finite experience. The former embraces the world of facts, and a fact +is something which must be describable in some sort of universal terms. +The principle of ordinary realism, “that you must not be sentimental or +otherwise emotional in your account of the truth of things, but rather +_exact in your descriptions of what things are_,” has a thoroughly +idealistic justification. Not appreciation, but description gives us +outer truth, and this is the characteristic presupposition of all natural +science, which is concerned with the universal aspects of things, as +opposed to momentary and transient aspects. That presupposition involves +the assumption that the world is _essentially describable_. But as only +the well-knit, the orderly, that which conforms to law, can be described +science assumes the universality and rigidity of the laws of nature. +It assumes further, since the most exact descriptions are possible only +in the case of processes in Space and Time, of a mechanical type, that +everything including man himself, is a part of nature’s mechanism. A +closer analysis, however, shows that, as one can only describe what has +been first appreciated, there must be universal types of appreciation, +and therefore, that “Ideals must be deeper than Mechanism, so that, in +order to be relatively describable, nature must embody purposes, and so +be possessed of worth.” The author’s conclusion is that the natural order +is also a moral order, and that therefore “the world of absolute self +must appear to us as having two aspects, one a temporal, the other an +eternal aspect, one of law and one of worth. Man then turns out to be at +once a part of nature’s mechanism, and a part of the moral order; at once +temporally determined and morally free.” + +The final lecture presents the author’s views as to the solution of the +problem of evil. Professor Royce believes that all evil is part of a good +order, and hence he agrees with Hegel, who declared that life, however +good, will always be restless, longing, suffering, and who gloried +in the paradox as the very essence of spirituality; rather than with +Schopenhauer, whose recognition, in another light, of the universality +of the same truth led him to abandon all hope in life. The justification +of the existence of an evil impulse comes just at the instant when it is +hated and condemned. Thus “condemning and conquering the evil will, makes +it part of a good will”; as pain and suffering have their compensation in +their chastening effect on the spirit. But to the enlightened soul it is +not so much the painfulness as “the blind irrationality of fortune that +seems to drive God out of our thoughts when we look at our world.” It is +the capriciousness of life, arising from human stupidity, that really +makes it seem like an evil dream. What is the explanation of this caprice +given by the author? It is to be found in the creed of his idealism, +“This world is the world of the Logos.” It is “the suffering God, who is +just our own true self, who actually and in our flesh bears the sins of +the world, and whose natural body is pierced by the capricious wounds +that hateful fools inflict upon him.” And as our defeats are his, so his +triumph and his eternal peace are ours also. + +Prof. Royce in making “only one more effort to define a ‘double-aspect’ +theory of the relations of the physical and the moral and æsthetic +worlds,” affirms that our philosophic insight teaches us that the world +of matter in motion is simply an external aspect of the appreciable +world, that is, of the world of the Logos. Of this, it is such an aspect +“as can be expressed by finite consciousness in terms of the space and +time forms, and of the categories of empirical science.... Consequently +all its laws, all its necessity, its causation, its uniformity, belong, +not to its inner nature as such, but to the external show of this +nature.” That which actually appears to us is matter in motion, which +furnishes the fact of the double aspect, the inner intelligibility of +which fact is problematical to us, but not so for the Logos, who is our +true Self, and who “completes the insight that for us is so fragmentary.” +This true Self, the Logos, is the only Self, and with it the deeper self +of man is identical. That this deeper self is “the self that knows in +unity all truth,” is declared to be no hypothesis, and therefore the +existence of the Infinite Self is perfectly sure. This Self “infinitely +and reflectively transcends our consciousness, and therefore, since +it includes us, it is at the very least a person, and more definitely +conscious than we are; for what it possesses is self-reflecting +knowledge.” Finally, the true world, that is the world of appreciation, +is the system of the thoughts of the Logos, whose unity we know, just so +far as we ourselves consciously and rationally enter into it and form +part of it. Therefore “in so far as we have inner unity of thinking, +in so far as we commune with our fellows, and in so far as we rightly +see significance in the outer universe, we are in and of the world of +appreciation that embodies the thought of the Logos.” + +Ingenious as this theory is, and notwithstanding the elements of truth it +possesses, we cannot accept it as conclusive. Its weakness is revealed +in the last line of the paragraph just quoted. If only the world of +appreciation embodies the thought of the Logos, what becomes of the world +of fact? The latter is said to be the outer aspect of the former, a +notion which is apparently derived from the association with man of body +and mind. But the existence of mind, which we must understand by the term +Logos, in nature, although declared by Professor Royce to be the only +thing certain, is a mere inference, and even if the analogy of the human +organism justifies such an inference; it would require that if priority +has to be given to mind or matter in the universe it must be allowed to +the latter. At birth a human being has no mind, properly so-called, since +it is the result of the activity after birth of the organism, through +the agency of the brain. It is true that the human body possesses from +the first the elements of the mind, or rather of the feeling which thus +exhibits itself; or, better still, the organic structure of which feeling +is the general function. The utmost that can be properly asserted of the +universe, therefore, is that it possesses a certain organic arrangement +of its parts, and therewith such a condition of feeling, or, what in +this relation would be a better term, sensitiveness, as is required by +its organic character. In relation to such a state of things the terms +thought, consciousness, reflection, have no meaning so far as we can +judge. That organic aspect of the universe, moreover, leaves no room for +duality. Just as the human organism constitutes a perfect unity, although +it is made up of various organs and exhibits the properties attributed +to both mind and matter, so must the universe be such a perfect unity +whatever its nature and attributes. The human organism may, however, be +strictly described as matter under organic conditions, a description +which is equally applicable to the universe, without determining what +those conditions are. Professor Royce objects to the Unknowable of +Herbert Spencer, but there is very little practical difference between it +and his own true Self, which, as the Absolute, is unknowable, although +he is known in the inner self of man, as Spencer’s Unknowable is known +in the human consciousness. Both Absolute and Unknowable are, however, +merely names for Organic Nature, which is seen in all things visible and +is known by all her operations. These are governed by the laws of her +very existence, and it is the uniformity of which those laws are the +expression which constitutes the moral law of the universe, the breach +of whose eternal order, whether this is established in the world of +matter or in the human mind, must be attended with consequences that are +designated by man as evil. We find only a world of description, which is +nevertheless one of moral order. + +Widely as we disagree on the grounds stated with the conclusions of +Professor Royce’s work, it is undoubtedly a valuable contribution to the +discussion of the world-problem. Its description of the characteristics +of the philosophy of Kant and of the German idealists is clear, though +not intended to do more than exhibit the spirit of their teaching, and +it is written in a style which renders it easy reading. It is a pity, +therefore, that it is disfigured with such colloquialisms as _you’ll_, +_isn’t_, _can’t_, _don’t_, words which neither sound well, nor look well +in print. + + Ω. + + +DIE ARISTOTELISCHE AUFFASSUNG VOM VERHÄLTNISSE GOTTES ZUR WELT UND ZUM +MENSCHEN. By _Dr. Eugen Rolfes_. Berlin: Mayer & Müller. 1892. + +This book is a scholastic “survival.” The author believes that Zeller’s +interpretation of Aristotle is wrong, and in five formal theses he +endeavors to prove _secundum artem_ that the philosopher was a theist who +taught the creation of the world from nothing, and the immortality of +the soul. In the defence of his theses he manifests some ingenuity and +industry, but no criticism. The work has no scientific significance. + + P. S. + + +MAX STIRNER UND FRIEDRICH NIETZSCHE. Erscheinungen des modernen Geistes +und das Wesen des Menschen. By _Robert Schellwien_. Leipsic: C. E. M. +Pfeffer, 1892. Price 2 m 60 pf. + +Individualism is the spirit of the age, and among all the champions +of individualism the most original, the most consistent, the boldest, +are perhaps Max Stirner and Friedrich Nietzsche. Robert Schellwien, in +sketching their views in great outlines, partly admires these courageous +thinkers who dare to draw the consequences of their principles to the +very last even though they will appear absurd to the world, partly +censures the rashness with which they arrive at, and the superciliousness +with which they sometimes state, their opinions. Upon the whole the +author succeeds in impressing the reader that there is in these two +peculiar geniuses a gigantic strength, and that their views of truth, +morality, and justice deserve a greater attention than they have +received. The reviewer is no admirer of either Stirner or Nietzsche; he +believes nevertheless that a careful analysis of their erratic minds and +lives will be very instructive. It will be first of pathological and +then even of more than pathological interest. The actual objective value +of the ideals truth, morality, and justice, will be best illustrated by +showing all the consequences of a consistent individualism. We hope that +this pamphlet will grow into a more comprehensive work; and in that case +we should advise the author to add short biographies of his heroes. + + κρς. + + +THE SOURCES AND DEVELOPMENT OF KANT’S TELEOLOGY. By _James Hayden Tufts_. +Chicago: University Press. 1892. + +This little tract is an inaugural dissertation presented by Mr. Tufts +to the University of Freiburg for the attainment of the doctorate of +philosophy. It is written in English. Mr. Tuft’s dissertation is wholly +historical. He simply seeks to expound Kant’s true views. In this respect +the work bears the marks of much research and of a thorough exploitation +of Kant’s works. Mr. Tuft’s concluding words are that “with every new +discovery of science, every advance in the ideals of art and of the +conduct of life, every development in religious faiths, comes anew the +task for philosophy to criticise, and through criticism to make a fresh +attempt to interpret from the unity of reason the manifold of life.” + + μκρκ. + + +DISTINCTION AND THE CRITICISM OF BELIEFS. By _Alfred Sidgwick_. London: +Longmans, Green, & Co. 1892. + +This work might be described as an inquiry into the conflict between +philosophy and common sense, and its central idea as the continuity +of nature. What bearing this idea has on the inquiry is shown by the +statement, that the distinction between philosophy and common sense is +only one of degree. And yet, regarded as methods, or attempts to follow +ideals, they may be sharply contrasted. This implies the existence +of distinctions, and hence arises the question how far distinction +is consistent with continuity in nature. The recognition of such a +continuity requires the admission of the unreality of distinctness, but +this fact is not inconsistent with the use of rough distinctions, which +give rise to what the author terms effective ambiguity. Here we have the +field of the operation of common sense, which exhibits itself as tact in +the use of rough distinctions, while, on the other hand, philosophy may +be said to be concerned with the continuity which, from a superficial +glance, might be supposed to stand in opposition to distinction. + +The ultimate result which Mr. Sidgwick has in view is the reconciliation +of philosophy and common sense, although it is incidental to his main +purpose, which is the discussion of the best way of dealing with +ambiguity, that is, of using rough distinctions. The improvement +suggested is the substitution of “reasoned discrimination” for “haphazard +tact,” and it is based on the doctrine that “the validity of all +distinctions is relative to the purpose for which they are used at the +time.” This cannot mean that distinction is merely relative, as it is +said that there is no distinction which is quite safe against being +broken down. The implication is that a safe distinction is possible, +although difficult to find, and consistently with that view, the doctrine +has the double aim of repressing excessive belief in distinctions +which are, at least for the moment, invalid, and, on the other hand, +of “enabling us to justify for a passing purpose, distinctions which +are faulty on the whole.” The justification here arises from the use, +and not from the distinctions themselves, although it is evident there +must be some basis for them, or they would be invalid. The element of +truth is derived from the continuity of nature, with which philosophy is +concerned, and hence the improvement in the method of common sense is to +be effected through its regulation by the method of philosophy. + +The justice of this view may be tested by its consequences, which are +stated by the author in reviewing the chief incidental aims of his +book, as being those which have to do with controversy, the faults of +language, and the conflict between the rival ideals, faith and doubt. +“Philosophy,” we are told, “is doubt, just as science is knowledge,” (a +description which like many other things in this book we cannot endorse,) +and the true centre of philosophical interest in regard to rival ideals +is “to harmonise the dispute by seeking how to limit each ideal by its +opposite.” This is the aim of all real philosophy, which recognises that +every ideal has an element of truth. Philosophy is thus explanation, +and Mr. Sidgwick avers one of the great dividing forces in philosophy +has always been “the rivalry between two opposite methods of general +explanation—that which explains small things by great ones, the part by +the whole, the many by the one (e. g. all earthly facts as related to +their one cause and substance); and that which explains great things by +small ones, the whole by its parts, the one by the many (e. g. the system +of nature as a ‘concourse of atoms’).” Thus regarded, the distinction +between philosophy and common sense is simply one of method; and it may +be said to consist in the use by the former of rational doubt based on +scientific knowledge, as distinguished from the belief founded on popular +wisdom which distinguishes the latter. Both alike, however, are the fruit +of observation, pushed further, nevertheless, in the one case than in the +other, which is practically the view expressed by the author. + +In considering the nature of philosophy, we have given the gist of Mr. +Sidgwick’s reflections on controversy, which is treated as the opposition +of ideals. This conflict is kept alive chiefly by doubt as to how +abstract notions should be applied in concrete cases, and largely owing +to “the absence of that kind of sharp distinction which is applicable, +not only to the notions themselves, but to the actual facts to which they +pretend to refer.” This view is ably enforced, as well as the necessity +of applying to the conflict between ideals the rule laid down as to the +purposive validity of distinctions. The operation of this rule would be +attended with concession instead of assumption, there being, however, the +admission, which is equivalent to an assumption, that neither side of +any ideal dispute is devoid of some truth as well as some error. This is +really required, if not by the continuity of nature, yet by continuity in +our interpretation of nature. This is continuity in thought, and hence +arises the difficulties connected with language which it is one of the +author’s incidental aims to point out. He supposes that language acts as +a drag on the progress of knowledge, owing to the _clumsiness_ of words +arising from the fact that “things spoken of are always more full of +change and movement than the words we can use in speaking of them.” + +Mr. Sidgwick insists upon continuity, yet change itself may be evidence +of at least partial discontinuity. Our author remarks, in an appendix +note on the continuity of nature, that every change, as such, is a +_saltus_, however small it may be, and that the same is true of any gap +between the two extremes of nature and the intermediate region. That such +an intermediate region exists, is required by the continuity of nature, +which again is evidence of change, on the principle that every chain +is made up of a series of links. But as in the chain there is no real +gap between the links, so there is no actual discontinuity consequent +on change in nature. The two extremes may be regarded as prolongations +of the intermediate region, and the changes to which such prolongation +is due may so occur that there may be discontinuity between certain +parts, as between the fibres of which a hempen rope is made, and yet +there be a perfectly continuous whole. We have an example of such a +discontinuous _continuum_ in a beam of ordinary light, which presents not +the slightest gap, and which yet is made up of numberless undulations +in different ratios representing the six spectrum colors, each of which +is, moreover, spread throughout the whole of the beam. Here we see that +continuity is quite consistent with distinction. The latter may be +regarded as discrimination of the various phases of the former, and the +distinction remains valid or otherwise according to the accuracy of the +discrimination or not. But constant change of distinction is required by +progress in knowledge which may be regarded as a thought representation, +by discontinuous steps, of the continuity of nature. + +As to the conflict between faith and doubt, the author considers the +function of scepticism as the search for grounds of belief, and thus +doubt is said to be “rather a friend than an enemy to those who remember +that there is still some truth, on any subject, for fallible men to +learn,” as well as to those who are more interested in the discovery of +truth than in supporting their own beliefs. + + Ω. + + +VORLESUNGEN ÜBER GEOMETRIE, unter besonderer Benutzung der Vorträge von +Alfred Clebsch. By _Dr. Ferdinand Lindemann_. Leipsic: B. G. Teubner. +1891. + +This first part of the second volume of Alfred Clebsch’s Lectures has +been arranged and treated by Professor Lindemann in the same way as +the first, except perhaps that the editor has extended his independent +investigations rather further than before, owing mainly to the fact that +he had in addition to his own notes when attending Professor Clebsch’s +lectures in 1871-1872, only five folio pages of the late master’s +manuscript at his disposal. The present volume is divided into three +parts. I. The Point, Plane, and Straight Line. II. Surfaces of the Second +Order and of the Second Class. III. Fundamental Conceptions of Projective +and Metrical Geometry. Historical notices and references are added in +foot-notes. Considering the prominence of the editor as a mathematician, +it would be a presumption on our part to praise his work. + + κρς. + + +AN INTRODUCTION TO GENERAL LOGIC. By _E. E. Constance Jones_. London: +Longmans, Green, & Co. 1892. + +This work is another witness of the great interest now being taken in all +that pertains to the methods of knowledge. + +Miss Jones, the author, is lecturer on logic at Girton College, +Cambridge. During an experience of several years in teaching, certain +difficulties have very forcibly pressed themselves upon her attention. +She hopes by her book to aid in removing these difficulties. + +It is certainly a good augury for women when their intellectual +representatives begin to show the disposition to turn towards the “dry +light.” Logic and mathematics are “dry” to be sure; that is, they are +very apt to be _found_ dry, very dry, by beginners, and always by those +who lack that real intellectual robustness which is alone fit to meddle +with fundamental problems. Hence these sober and severe disciplines find +little favor among those who seek merely for “showy” attainments, those +to whom whatever is “uninteresting” is intolerable, and those who regard +obscurity as inseparable from profundity. When then we find scholarly +women manifesting a real relish for this “dry light,” it gives promise of +a coming day when the intellectual appetite will rise above the level of +mere entertainment, the level of the playhouse and the circus, and take +kindly, and perhaps zealously, to real edification. + +Miss Jones makes but very modest claims on behalf of her treatise. She +has not undertaken to innovate to any great extent upon the regular +scheme. If in her changes there is that which might especially provoke +criticism, it is perhaps in the nomenclature which she adopts. The +traditional logic forms a system which has its own proper merits and +defects. It is of great historical interest, and its regular terminology +is almost indispensable for the proper illustration of its doctrines. + +We think also that the author fails to state the case in all its +amplitude, when, she lays it down as one of the most absolute and +ultimate of all logical principles that the self-evident ought to be +believed. The truth is, as we conceive it, that the self-evident is sure +to be believed, and that in the face of any proposition that truly bears +its own justification along with it, any doctrine of logic is either +useless or impertinent. + + ρσλ. + + +HYPNOTISMUS UND SUGGESTION. By _W. Wundt_. Leipsic: Wilhelm Engelmann. +1892. + +A Greek student translates κλεινός ‘small’; “You are thinking of the +German _klein_,” says the teacher quickly. Another renders ἡμείς γὰρ +ἁγνοί, ‘we are lambs,’ misled by a chance cross association with the +Latin _agni_. Every careful self-observer knows that there is no +combination of memories, images, and resultant incipient acts too absurd +for some moments of confusion and mental fatigue. We account for such +confusions of thought by citing parallel cases and adding generally +that normal associations are liable to disintegration and abnormal +recombination in fatigued or excited conditions of the brain. If we +seek a causal scientific explanation, two methods are open to us: (1) +we may attempt to map out in detail and describe for all similar cases +the pathways of association, or (2) we may endeavor to define their +physiological conditions and accompaniments in the nervous system. The +first leads us at once into the metaphysics of the unconscious. The +second method, when we attempt to pass from a general to a specific +correspondence, leads to a hypothetical restatement of the observed +psychological facts in terms of the latest cerebral anatomy and +physiology Now all serious scientific thinkers are fast coming to the +conclusion (on which Wundt’s book is based) that the phenomena of dreams +and of hypnotism are to be explained by the general laws of association +as revealed especially in the confused and obstructed associations of the +normal state. The critical and destructive part of Wundt’s sensible and +timely work has two aims: (1) to discriminate the attested phenomena of +hypnotism from the alleged phenomena of thought-transference, telepathy, +and “possession” on which no serious student will waste his words; and +(2) to point out the confusions of thought in current explanations of +hypnotic phenomena, which either confine themselves to restatements of +the observed facts in terms of a hypothetical anatomy, or at any rate +in Wundt’s opinion base their physiological hypotheses on an inadequate +psychological analysis. His own constructive work is an attempt to +supply the missing analysis and accompany it with the most plausible +physiological theory that our imperfect science allows. Dreams and the +illusions of the hypnotic subject are doubtless explicable generally +as derangements of the associative machinery. But they are specific +forms of abnormal association, the special characteristics of which we +wish to define. Suggestion, Wundt says (with James), is association +accompanied by a “limitation of consciousness to the images aroused by +the association.” The scientific problem is: _Wie entsteht die Einengung +des Bewusstseins?_ This narrowing of consciousness manifests itself in +a diminished sensibility to all impressions outside of the suggestions. +Dreams show the same features, accidental impressions of sense or changes +in the nutritive processes here taking the place of direct suggestions +from without. But in sleep and dreams the limitation of consciousness is +conditioned by general fatigue of the nervous system. In the hypnotic +state it results not from fatigue, but from neuro-dynamic and vaso-motor +changes in the distribution of tensions in the brain. Hence the superior +intensity and vividness of the presentations that are allowed to develop +themselves. This altered equilibrium of the forces of the brain is +brought about by the suggestions of the operator, which are generally +guided by him to a more or less definite end. The resulting derangements +of normal associations are consequently less lawless than is the case in +dreams. On these principles Wundt explains the chief facts of hypnotism +as follows: Automatic obedience to the commands of the operator results +simply from the fact that every idea tends to realise itself in action, +is an incipient act; and in the narrowed consciousness of the hypnotic +subject the idea suggested by the operator finds no competitors in the +struggle for existence as a reality. This explanation (which is really as +old as Spinoza) accounts also for positive hallucinations—there are no +reductors, as Taine would say. Negative hallucinations (the non-existence +of an existing door) may be explained sometimes by a contradictory +positive hallucination (as of a curtain covering the door) more often +in the same way as hypnotic analgesia by the familiar analogy of our +insensibility to the toothache when the attention is elsewhere strongly +engaged. This is favored by the generally diminished sensibility of the +hypnotic subject. Post-hypnotic suggestions are associations depending +on partial memories, such as we have in the normal state when we merely +recall an image or an object without time-and-circumstance localisation. +The subject who is to execute a post-hypnotic suggestion at 7 o’clock +is reminded by the striking of the clock of an image of a thing to be +done which the original command of the operator associated with the +stroke of seven. All else is forgotten. When the time limit is not thus +definitely marked, the process must be analogous to that whereby some +persons are able to waken at a predetermined hour in the morning. A +latent association is aroused into full activity by naturally recurring +conditions of internal physiological processes or external surroundings. +Courtesy or prudence are perhaps all that prevent the best explanation of +certain extreme cases being the old one: “the boy lied.” Wundt rejects +the claim that suggestion is the experimental method in psychology +_par excellence_, for the very sufficient reason that the phenomena +experimented with are only very partially in the control of the operator +and are furthermore mainly pathological. He is far from disputing the +practical efficacy of hypnotic therapeutics in functional disorders, +but he regards the hypnotic sleep as a dangerous remedy, the employment +of which should be limited to trained practitioners. The subjection +of the hypnotic subject to the will of the hypnotiser is _a priori_ +an immoral relation to obtain between man and man unless justified by +superior medical necessities, but, quite apart from _a priori_ ethics, +indiscriminate hypnotisation is to be discouraged as a direct cause of +nervous degeneration. The book closes as it began With a dignified but +severe reprobation of those thinkers who in the interests of occultism +magnify the psychological significance of hypnotism and disseminate +superstition in the name of science. + + PAUL SHOREY. + + +DER HYPNOTISMUS IN GEMEINFASSLICHER DARSTELLUNG. By _Dr. Hans +Schmidkunz_. Stuttgart: A. Zimmer (E. Mohrmann). 1892. + +This book (266 pp.) is a popular compendium of hypnotism. The author, +beginning (I) with the hypnosis of common life, goes over the whole field +as follows: (II) the phenomena of hypnosis, (III) its application, (IV) +the “beyond” of hypnotism, (V) the conceptions of hypnotism, and (VI) its +dangers. The seventh and last chapter is a short history of the subject. + +Dr. Schmidkunz, Docent of philosophy at the University of Munich, is one +of the few who believe that there is a “beyond” in hypnotism. He says +on p. 65: “A hypnotised person was led through a room while sleeping. +The experimenter made a few passes over his head and then violently +whirled his arm around in a vertical direction before his subject. When +the subject approached the marked place, he recoiled from it crying with +pain.” Our author asks, “what is this magnetic wall to be regarded as? As +a charm, as an obstacle of occult power, from which the body recoils as +from a wall of stone? If not, was it the subject’s soul that recoiled? +Was it the hypnotised person’s belief which created the wall?” etc. +The two interpretations, the one attributing the effect to a magnetic +power, the other to suggestion are typical. The former is bolder: he goes +“beyond” hypnotism. + +Our author is one of those who go beyond hypnotism, and is not satisfied +with the theory that suggestion explains all. We may add that he regards +telepathy as a sufficiently established fact. Telepathy finds little +support among scientists in Germany, and Dr. Schmidkunz complains, in +a circular letter to “Professor Wundt’s and other Savants’ Critical +Saltomortales” of the cool and depreciative treatment which his book +_Psychologie der Suggestion_ received at the hands of men of science. + + κρς. + + +L’HYPNOTISME DEVANT LES CHAMBRES LEGISLATIVES BELGES. Par _J. Delbœuf_. +Paris: Félix Alcan. Pp. 80. + +In a recent number of _The Monist_ Prof. J. Delbœuf gave the reasons +which have induced him to come to the conclusion that “persons in an +hypnotic condition preserve at least a sufficient portion of their +intelligence, their reason, together with freedom of action, to prevent +them from committing deeds that neither their conscience nor their habits +approve of.” This opinion is entertained by many other hypnotists, but +the more general opinion is that “suggestion” may be made use of for +criminal purposes: Such is the case especially in France and in Belgium; +and acting on that supposition the medical faculty of the latter country +promoted in the legislative Chamber a law interdicting public hypnotic +séances, and reserving the practice of hypnotism as a therapeutic measure +exclusively to medical men, as well as the treatment of insane persons +and those under twenty-one years of age. Professor Delbœuf, who is not a +medical man, naturally objects when those who but a few years ago would +have classed him and his fellow hypnotists as charlatans, seek without +reason to reserve for themselves the promising field of labor opened up +by the researches of others. He maintains that men are born hypnotisers +as they are born artists, and therefore to exclude all but medical men +from the application of the hypnotic power will often prevent its use +for curative purposes. Moreover it is a serious question for those who +possess this natural gift. They might perform the most praiseworthy +actions and yet be subjected to a legal penalty. Professor Delbœuf states +that by hypnotism he cured a youth eighteen years of age of a mania for +stealing (_la manie du vol_), and thus saved him from unmerited dishonor. +On another occasion he had charge of a young wife who was possessed with +the idea of murdering her children, and after all other means had failed +he was able to remove the idea by suggestion extending over a period of +eight days. He properly asks whether the performance of such actions +ought to be treated as criminal. + +The real question to be considered, however, is whether the practice +of hypnotism is likely to be made use of for criminal purposes if it +is permitted to every one. We much doubt whether any actual case of +such an abuse has been legally established, or whether suggestion +could lead to the perpetration of a criminal act unless there was a +predisposition in that direction. Professor Delbœuf makes use, however, +of an apparent paradox which would seem to render abortive any such law +of prevention as that above referred to. It is that there is in reality +no such thing as hypnotism. M. Bernheim writes in a letter given in the +present work, “for my part, in the thousands of hypnotisations I have +practised, I have never seen the least inconvenience result. Undoubtedly +very impressionable subjects can, under the emotional influence of +auto-suggestion, present certain nervous troubles; but these a prudent +operator can always calm by suggestion.” Professor Delbœuf relates +several cases of this kind within his own experience, which shows that +severe nervous pain can be removed by simple assertion that it does not +exist. He affirms that “the so-called hypnotic sleep is only a sign +of suggestibility, and that it is not at all necessary to suggestive +therapeutics.” + +We may conclude this notice of a very interesting contribution to the +discussion as to the true nature and operation of hypnotism, by quoting +the conclusions arrived at by the author as to the proper mode of +regulating its practice. He suggests that representations of hypnotism +should be permitted subject to the measures which regulate public +spectacles; that any one should be allowed to become a hypnotiser, as he +can become a shampooer or a truss-maker; that the hypnotist who gives +remedies should be punishable, since he exercises the art of curing +without a diploma; that he should not be allowed to hypnotise minors +without the consent of the family; and that he should be forbidden to +treat a sick person without the written authorisation of a medical +man and under his direction. This rule Professor Delbœuf, although he +disapproves of the law which forbids the practice of medicine to those +who have not a diploma, has always acted on. He thinks that if medical +men then studied hypnotism and practised it themselves, hypnotisers who +had no diplomas would soon have nothing to do. This spirited defence +by Professor Delbœuf of his views will be widely read. Not the least +interesting portion of it is the criticism, with which it ends, of “the +affair of the brothers Vandevoir,” where we read that he is designated by +his opponent M. Masoin “_doux et bon vieillard_” and “_l’homme cheveu_”! + + Ω. + + +UEBER DEN HAUTSINN. By _Dr. phil. et med. Max Dessoir_, Privatdocenten +an der Universität zu Berlin. Separat-Abzug aus Archiv für Anatomie und +Physiologie. Physiologische Abtheilung. 1892. + +This pamphlet, a reprint from the _Archiv für Anatomie und Physiologie_ +of 1892, is an elaborate and careful investigation into the _modus +operandi_ of skin sensations. The first part is a discussion of the +theory of sensation in general containing (1) an analysis of the ideas +_Gefühl_, _Empfindung_, and _Wahrnehmung_, (2) a critique of Johannes +Müller’s doctrine of specific energies, (3) an exposition of the +objectification of sensations. Feeling (_Empfindung_), according to +the author, is, no magnitude, its main feature is intensity, quality +becomes important only in sensation (_Wahrnehmung_). For the psychology +of skin-sensations, we have to note the great influence of accompanying +feelings (_Mitempfindungen_). The second part is devoted to the author’s +investigations of the sense of temperature. Dr. Dessoir rejects Blix’s +point theory; he regards the idea of two different end-apparatuses for +warm and cold sensations as an unfounded assumption, and claims that the +temperature sense is one mode of sensation possessing two qualities. The +intensity of temperature sensations depends not only upon the _vis viva_ +of the heat in the stimulus; but also upon five other factors (1) the +size of the surface affected, (2) the duration of the affect, (3) the +thickness of the epidermis, (4) its conductibility, and (5), last not +least, its temperature. + + κρς. + + +RECHERCHES D’OPTIQUE PHYSIOLOGIQUE ET PHYSIQUE. By _Clémence Royer_. +Brussels Imprimerie Veuve Monnom. 1892. + +The first part of this brochure consists chiefly of an examination of +the theories of M. M. Hirth and Chauveau on chromatic sensation. The +talented authoress disagrees with the view entertained by M. Chauveau, +that the sensations of contrast which are fused cerebrally, so as to +give, when viewed with both eyes, a white image, are subjective in an +intellectual sense. The result is purely physico-physiological, as it is +even assuming the intervention of M. Hirth’s _interior eye_. Mad. Royer +regards the eyes organised so as to effect a fusion of the colors and +forms depicted on the two retinas, and she accepts the conclusion of M. +Hirth, that they lessen the real polychromism of objects, the inability +to perceive the infra-red and the ultra-violet rays concealing from us a +considerable part “of the palette of nature and of its chromatic scale.” +The authoress refers with approval to the theory of M. Charpentier that +the complementary colors correspond to inverse undulatory phases, which +are destroyed by interference in the field of vision. + +The second part of Mad. Royer’s pamphlet is devoted to a consideration of +the photography of colors, and the theory of light. It points out that +the photography of colors, which has been effected to some extent by M. +Lippmann, must be a physical and not a chemical process. It is the result +of the periodic compressions of the sensitised silver-surface, due to +the shocks it receives from the light undulations of the ether, which +so modify the surfaces of the silver atoms that they reflect colored +rays identical with those received from the object photographed. With +reference to the propagation of light, the authoress affirms that the +atoms of matter, as well as those of the ether, which differs from matter +only in being imponderable and without inertia, are centres of emanation +of a continuous and impenetrable fluid, which is however indefinitely +expansible or compressible. The size and form of atoms will thus depend +on the compressions they receive, and they will be able to accommodate +themselves to the spaces to which they are confined by the resistance +of the atomic groups by which they are surrounded. But the world may be +regarded as consisting of three sorts of atoms: (1) those of the ether +which possess their primordial unity of expansive force and are endowed +with perfect elasticity; (2) those of ponderable matter, which have lost +a portion of their expansive force and elasticity; (3) those which are +called vitaliferous, because they have regained their expansive force, +and are thus capable of autonomous movements necessary to resist the +compressions of the ether and to oppose the inertia of matter. They thus +answer to the cell-souls of Haeckel. + + Ω. + + +DIE BEWEGUNG DER LEBENDIGEN SUBSTANZ. Eine vergleichend-physiologische +Untersuchung der Contractionserscheinungen. By _Max Verworn_, Dr. med., +Privatdocent der Physiologie an der Universität Jena. Mit 19 Abbildungen. +Jena: Gustav Fischer, 1892. + +The mechanism of muscle contraction and expansion and the motions of +amœboid substance have been recognised as one and the same problem; and +several naturalists, foremost among them Hofmeister, Engelmann, and +Edmund Montgomery have investigated it, fully aware of the enormous +importance of the subject. The present pamphlet is small, it contains +only 103 pages, but it contains the statement of the problem, a +description of the author’s experiments, and his solution so lucidly that +one cannot read it without great satisfaction. Both processes, expansion +as well as contraction, are, according to Verworn, spontaneous motions, +and both are to be explained by chemotropy. Expansion, i. e., in amœba +the protrusion of pseudopodia, is due to the plasma’s hunger for the +oxygen, which is contained in the surrounding medium. Every irritation +(electric shocks, concussions, injuries etc.) causes a chemical +decomposition of the oxygenised plasma; it loses carbon, hydrogen, +oxygen, and nitrogen, (as we know from the waste products, carbonic +acid, creatine, lactic acid,) and these substances are exactly those +which are most prominent in building up living substance. Irritations +without exception cause the plasma to return to the nucleus. The chemical +change in the plasma makes it hungry for the nuclear substances. The +vital process, accordingly, is an interaction between the nucleus, the +plasma, and the medium, so that in the constant exchange of materials the +old structure is preserved; and the fundamental features of the vital +process are first the plasma’s chemotropy for oxygen, causing centrifugal +motions, and then its chemotropy for nuclear substance, causing +centripetal motions. The plasma saturated with nuclear substances, shows +a chemotropy for the oxygen of the medium; it moves in a centrifugal +direction, and the oxygenised plasma has become so unstable that it +breaks down on the slightest provocation. The decomposed plasma exhibits +a chemotropy for nuclear substance and thus returns in contripetal +motions to the centre. Without entering into details we may mention that +this accounts also for the fact that dying protoplasm always assumes a +globular shape, until it crumbles to pieces. The _rigor mortis_ is the +last vital action of living substance. The plasma seeks once more the +nuclear substance, but not finding sufficient material for being built up +again into a substance endowed with a chemotropy for oxygen remains rigid +until it decays. + +The author finds his theory to hold good for the actions of the striated +and nonstriated muscles, and also of ciliated tissues. Having shown +that the vital functions are due to the same forces that are observable +in the retort of the chemist, he adds: “The savage accordingly was not +quite wrong when he drew no distinct line, considering everything moving +as alive. Life is motion. That old poetical view of all nature being +animated with life throughout was in possession of a germ of truth, +and our proud civilisation has actually made a retrogressive step in +abandoning this view.” + + κρς. + + +GRABER’S LEITFADEN DER ZOOLOGIE FÜR DIE OBEREN CLASSEN DER MITTELSCHULEN. +Vienna and Prague: F. Tempsky. 1892. Price 1 fl. 60 kr. + +We had occasion in a recent number of _The Monist_ to review an +excellent text-book of physics published by this same house. The present +work on zoology is in its second edition, and is intended, like the +above-mentioned work of Professor Mach’s, for high-school instruction. +Professor Graber, its author, died before the completion of the second +edition, and the work was finished by J. Mik. + +Graber’s Zoology is unique in its class; it covers, within the +restricted limits of two hundred and sixty-one pages, the whole field +of elementary biology, human physiology, and zoology, as it is usually +exploited in such books, and thus combines in a single volume what +is usually contained in two or three. The human organism (Part 1) is +made the starting-point of study in the work, and the explication of +the physiological and mechanical functions of animals are thus all +grouped about this central figure. In a concise form (55 pages) this +book contains about all of human anatomy and physiology that is usually +learned in high-schools. Part 1 also contains, at the end of the +discussions, brief dietetic suggestions. “Systematic Zoology” is taken +up in the Second Part. This part is well analysed and arranged. The cuts +are also excellent. Attached to the book is a “Picture-Atlas.” This atlas +contains a number of colored plates, which depict various physiological +and anatomical organs, and also four beautiful representations of scenes +from the Naples Aquarium. Although this book will not be used by English +school-students, it may be recommended to students of scientific German +who wish a good introduction into the technical vocabulary of German +biology and zoology, which to the foreigner is very difficult. + + μκρκ. + + +L’ANTHROPOLOGIE DU BENGALE. By _Paul Topinard_. Extracted from +_L’Anthropologie_ for May-June, 1892. Paris: G. Masson. + +The present contribution to the science of Anthropology by the Editor +of _L’Anthropologie_, is based on the anthropometric inquiries of Mr. +H. H. Risley made under instructions from the government of Bengal. The +conclusions deduced by Dr. Topinard from the large mass of material +brought together by Mr. Risley, and which relates to members of all +the castes to be met with in Bengal, are of great interest. He finds +that the populations are much mixed, but that they may be divided into +three types, one tall and dolichocephalic, that of the Aryans; another +short and brachycephalic, derived from northern Asiatics; and the third +short and dolichocephalic, or that of the native blacks. India is a +world by itself, and most of its inhabitants belong to races of which +there is no specimen in Europe. Dr. Topinard naturally attaches more +importance to physical than to ethnographical characters as evidence of +anthropological descent, and he is justified by Mr. Risley’s researches, +of which he speaks very highly; although he thinks they would have been +more fruitful if the anthropometrical instructions prepared by the French +Anthropologist had been more strictly adhered to. That they were not so +is the more surprising as Mr. Risley’s work is dedicated to Dr. Topinard +himself. + + Ω. + + +UEBER SITTLICHE DISPOSITIONEN. By _Dr. Anton Oelzelt-Newin_, Privatdocent +an der Universität in Bern. Graz: Leuschner & Lubensky. 1892. Price Mk. 2 +70 Pf. + +The main idea of this book is to prove that there are certain innate +dispositions forming the elements of morality. The elements of morality +are according to Dr. Oelzelt-Newin the attitudes of fear, anger, love, +sympathy, shame, and pride. Conscience is a complex which has developed +from these six dispositions. Having stated sufficient evidences for the +heredity of moral dispositions and illustrated the parallel phenomena of +bodily states in their reference to moral alienation, the author treats +the six elements of morality in single chapters, explaining their causes +and the influence of conditions under which they develop either into +virtues or crimes. The essay (92 pp.) is a contribution to that ethical +determinism which regards evil as the necessary result of given factors. +“Religious people should say: Not Only the stone which falls from the +roof and kills a just man, but also the will of a criminal and the +punishment of the judge are inscrutable ordinances of God. That alone is +a true theodicy.” As an optimist the author trusts that the evil of the +world will be conquered with legal means and enjoins priests to revise +in this sense their creed, jurists their law, and all men their love of +mankind. + + κρς. + + +THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE. And the Wonders of the World We live in. By Sir +_John Lubbock_. New York: Macmillan & Co. 1892. 429 pages. Price $1.50. + +NATUR UND KUNST. Studien zur Entwicklungsgeschichte der Kunst. By _Carus +Sterne_. Berlin: Verein für deutsche Literatur. 1892. + +The first of these two books is a delightful compilation by Sir John +Lubbock. It is another addition to that series of popular works which +this well-known naturalist is now giving to English-speaking peoples. It +makes no pretension of being scientific: it simply takes the world which +science has revealed and shows us its wonders and its beauties. Yet it +insinuates many a scientific fact and inculcates many a moral lesson. +No one will regret the few hours that can be spent in its perusal, and +the stimulus derived from it will heighten the pleasure which every +religiously-minded heart takes in the contemplation of natural grandeur +and truth. In the main, it is intended for unscientific readers. It +requires hardly any preparatory knowledge to be understood; yet it +sometimes touches on a truth that even great thinkers overlook. Thus, _à +propos_ of the capacity for intact divisibility which some life-forms +possess, Sir John remarks that these considerations introduce “much +difficulty into our conception of the idea of an Individual.” “In fact,” +he says, “the realisation of the idea of an individual gradually becomes +more and more difficult, and the continuity of existence, even among +the highest animals, gradually forces itself upon us. I believe that +as we become more rational, as we realise more fully the conditions of +existence, this consideration is likely to have important moral results.” +The work is divided into the following chapters: “Animal Life,” “Plant +Life;” “Woods and Fields,” “Mountains,” “Water,” “Rivers and Lakes,” “The +Sea,” “The Starry Heavens.” + +The second of the two books that head this review is by Carus Sterne. +Few men possess the wide technical knowledge and the same command of the +historical literature of his subject, that this investigator and writer +possesses. Carus Sterne unites with a rigorous scientific training the +rare qualities of philosophical insight and sound erudition. He possesses +the scientific facts on which to base valid judgments, and he deduces +from these facts the inferences that affect the most important problems +of life—its culture and morality. We have had occasion before, to refer +to these phases of Carus Sterne’s activity as an author. + +In the present work the author of _Werden und Vergehen_ discusses the +relations which obtain between nature and art. Here is not the place to +give even a synopsis of the great wealth of material which this book of +395 pages contains; we are allowed simply to hint at its purport and +methods. Carus Sterne defines the artistic impulse in man to be a longing +of the mind to rise above the ordinary routine of physical existence. +It is a lifting ourselves out of our every-day life. This cannot be +accomplished by the simple reproduction of the things of nature; such +reproductions have not in themselves an elevating effect. Art is not +imitative, art is creative. It uses color, form, space, merely as a means +to give “local habitation” to an idea. The imitation of actually existing +things is the beginning of art; but it is its lowest stage. Nature must +be our guide, our norm, not our model. Here the middle road is taken +between the old and the new idea of art. That was ultra-idealistic, +this is ultra-realistic. The author then proceeds to discuss the notion +of beauty in art and nature (Part I) and finally takes up generally +(Part II) the subject of the artistic contemplation and reproduction of +the world. All these topics, with their many subdivisions, are treated +in Carus Sterne’s best and most fascinating style. The work is well +illustrated, and all interested in the natural history of art will find +in it a storehouse of valuable material. + + μκρκ. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[58] Cf. Ward, _Encyclopædia Britannica_, Vol. XX, p. 44. + + + + +PERIODICALS. + + +ZEITSCHRIFT FÜR PSYCHOLOGIE UND PHYSIOLOGIE DER SINNESORGANE. + +CONTENTS: Vol. IV. No. 3. + + UEBER DIE SOGENANNTE CONSCIENCE MUSCULAIRE (DUCHENNE). By _A. + Pick_. + + EINE NEUE THEORIE DER LICHTEMPFINDUNGEN. By _Christine + Ladd-Franklin_. + + LITTERATURBERICHT. (Hamburg and Leipsic: Leopold Voss.) + +Mrs. Christine Ladd Franklin (a contributor to this number of _The +Monist_) is one of those few women who have actually won a well deserved +reputation as a thinker and scientific worker. She is an American by +birth and the wife of an American savant. It is pleasant to find her +name in a German periodical among whose editorial writers are men so +prominent as Ebbinghaus, König, Exner, Helmholtz, Hering, Kries, Lipps, +G. E. Müller, Pelman, Preyer, and Stumpf. Mrs. Ladd criticises Helmholtz +and Hering, and thinks that the theories of Donders (in Gräfe’s “Archiv,” +1884) and Göller (in Du Bois-Reymond’s “Archiv,” 1888) have not received +sufficient attention. In accord with their propositions, she sets forth +an exceedingly simple hypothesis which attempts an explanation of the +three main colors by atomic motions in the three different dimensions of +space. + + +PHILOSOPHISCHE MONATSHEFTE. + +CONTENTS: Vol. XXVIII. Nos. 9 and 10. + + UEBER DIE GRUNDFORMEN DER VORSTELLUNGSVERBINDUNG. + Psychologische Studie. (Concluded.) By _M. Offner_. + + DER BEGRIFF DER VERSCHMELZUNG UND DAMIT ZUSAMMENHÄNGENDES IN + STUMPF’S “TONPSYCHOLOGIE,” BAND II. By _Th. Lipps_. + + WERKE ZUR PHILOSOPHIE DER GESCHICHTE UND DES SOCIALEN LEBENS + (Third Article: _J. S. Mackenzie_, An Introduction to Social + Philosophy; _J. H. Ferguson_, The Philosophy of Civilisation; + _W. A. Macdonald_, Humanitism). By _F. Tönnies_. + +CONTENTS: Vol. XXIX. No. 1 and 2. + + DIE MODERNE ENERGETIK IN IHRER BEDEUTUNG FÜR DIE + ERKENNTNISSKRITIK. By _K. Lasswitz_. + + DIE SITTLICHE FRAGE EINE SOCIALE FRAGE (I). By _F. Staudinger_. + + RELIGIONSPHILOSOPHISCHE THESEN. By _E. von Hartmann_. + + LITTERATURBERICHT. (Berlin: Dr. R. Salinger.) + + +ZEITSCHRIFT FÜR PHILOSOPHIE UND PHILOSOPHISCHE KRITIK. Vol. 101. No. 1. + +CONTENTS: + + PSYCHOLOGISCHE APHORISMEN. By _Otto Liebmann_. + + UNTERHALB UND OBERHALB VON GUT UND BÖSE. By _Eduard von + Hartmann_. + + JAHRESBERICHT ÜBER ERSCHEINUNGEN DER ANGLO-AMERIKANISCHEN + LITTERATUR AUS DER ZEIT VON 1890-1891. By _Friedrich Jodl_. + + ZUR BEGRÜSSUNG DES ZWEITEN HUNDERTS DER BÄNDE DIESER + ZEITSCHRIFT. By _Prof. Dr. Rud. Seydel_. + + RECENSIONEN. (Leipsic: C. E. M. Pfeffer.) + + +THE AMERICAN JOURNAL OF PSYCHOLOGY. October, 1892. Vol. V. No. 1. + +CONTENTS: + + DISTURBANCE OF THE ATTENTION DURING SIMPLE MENTAL PROCESSES. By + _Edgar James Swift_. + + PSEUDO-CHROMESTHESIA, OR THE ASSOCIATION OF COLORS WITH WORDS, + LETTERS, AND SOUNDS. By _William O. Krohn_, Ph. D. + + REPORT ON AN EXPERIMENTAL TEST OF MUSICAL EXPRESSIVENESS. (Part + II.) By _Benjamin Ives Gilman_. + +The present investigation made by Mr. Edgar James Swift shows that +a disturbance of the attention through sight is more effective in +lengthening the reaction time than when the disturbance comes through the +sense of hearing; but whenever the reaction follows a slight sensation, +the time of choice is less affected by disturbances of the attention +than if the excitation is a sound. Dr. William O. Krohn concludes, after +carefully studying several hundred cases of pseudo-chromesthesia, that a +greater per cent. of them arise from some sort of cerebral work due to +the close relation of the cortical centres. Mr. Gilman concludes from +experiments made with various persons, that musical expressiveness has +been overestimated, and that on the emotional theory of its nature the +importance of the art has also been overestimated. (Worcester: J. H. +Orpha.) + + +MIND. New Series. No. 4. October, 1892. + +CONTENTS: + + THE FIELD OF ÆSTHETICS PSYCHOLOGICALLY CONSIDERED, II. By + _Henry Rutgers Marshall_. + + LOTZE’S ANTITHESIS BETWEEN THOUGHT AND THINGS, II. By _A. + Eastwood_. + + THE STUDY OF CRIME. By _Rev. W. D. Morrison_. + + ON THE PROPERTIES OF A ONE-DIMENSIONAL MANIFOLD. By _Benj. Ives + Gilman_. + +In his present article Mr. H. R. Marshall finds a basis for the +differentiation of Æsthetics from Hedonics, in “pleasure permanency +in revival” as belonging particularly to the former. Mr. Eastwood +criticises Lotze’s antithesis between thoughts and things which is +closely connected with his erroneous opinion that time is a property of +things in themselves. The study of crime by Mr. W. D. Morrison discusses +crime under the three heads of the movement of crime, its causes, and +its repression, of which the last deals with the theory, the methods, +and the efficacy of punishment. In his discussion of the properties of a +one-dimensional manifold, examples of which are time, the straight line, +quantity, intensity, number, and pitch, Mr. B. I. Gilman, who was a pupil +of Mr. C. S. Peirce, seeks to give a formulation of one-dimensionality in +which the general notion of relation and converse relation is substituted +for that of greater and less difference. This number of _Mind_ contains a +voluminous note on the blind deaf-mute child, Helen Keller, by Prof G. C. +Robertson, the late editor, whose death is announced in the same number. +(London: Williams & Norgate.) + + Ω. + + +INTERNATIONAL JOURNAL OF ETHICS. October, 1892. Vol. III. No. 1. + +CONTENTS: + + THE NATIONAL TRAITS OF THE GERMANS AS SEEN IN THEIR RELIGION. + By _Prof. Otto Pfleiderer_, D. D., University of Berlin. + + PHILANTHROPY AND MORALITY. By _Father Huntington_. + + INTERNATIONAL QUARRELS AND THEIR SETTLEMENT. By _Leonard H. + West_, LL. D., London University. + + 1792.—YEAR 1. By _David G. Ritchie_, Jesus College. Oxford. + + UTILITARIANISM. By _A. L. Hodder_. + + BOOK REVIEWS. + + (Philadelphia: _International Journal of Ethics_, 118 S. + Twelfth Street.) + + +THE PHILOSOPHICAL REVIEW. + +CONTENTS: Vol. I. No. 5. + + PSYCHOGENESIS. By _President David J. Hill_. + + THE PROBLEM OF EPISTEMOLOGY. By _Professor Andrew Seth_. + + THE ORIGIN OF PLEASURE AND PAIN, (II.) By _Dr. Herbert Nichols_. + + DISCUSSIONS: REALITY AND “IDEALISM.” By _F. C. S. Schiller_. + + REVIEWS OF BOOKS. + + SUMMARIES OF ARTICLES. + +CONTENTS: Vol. I. No. 6. + + GREEN’S THEORY OF THE MORAL MOTIVE. By _Prof. John Dewey_. + + THOUGHT BEFORE LANGUAGE. By _Prof. William James_. + + PLEASURE-PAIN, AND SENSATION. By _Henry Rutgers Marshall_. + + REVIEWS OF BOOKS. + + SUMMARIES OF ARTICLES. + + (Boston. New York, Chicago: Ginn & Company.) + + +THE NEW WORLD. December, 1892. Vol. I. No. 4. + +CONTENTS: + + THE BRAHMO SOMAJ. By _Protap Chunder Mozoomdar_. + + THE FUTURE OF CHRISTIANITY. By _William M. Salter_. + + PROGRESSIVE ORTHODOXY. By _Egbert C. Smyth_. + + MICHAEL SERVETUS. By _Joseph Henry Allen_. + + THE PRESENT POSITION OF THE ROMAN CATHOLIC CHURCH. By _G. + Santayana_. + + THE CHURCH IN GERMANY AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION. By _John Graham + Brooks_. + + A WORLD OUTSIDE OF SCIENCE. By _Thomas Wentworth Higginson_. + + THE BIRTH AND INFANCY OF JESUS. By _Albert Réville_. + + THE MONISTIC THEORY OF THE SOUL. By _James T. Bixby_. + +The last article is a criticism to the point, discriminating and fair. +The author takes special notice of Dr. Carus’s position, whose views are +recapitulated with accuracy, but not accepted as convincing. (Boston: +Houghton, Mifflin, & Co.) + + +REVUE PHILOSOPHIQUE. + +CONTENTS: September, 1892. No. 201. + + LA PERSONNALITÉ DANS LES RÊVES. By _J.-.M. Guardia_. + + HISTOIRE ET PHILOSOPHIE RELIGIEUSES. By _M. Vernes_. + + SUR LA TERMINOLOGIE PHILOSOPHIQUE. By _Durand (de Gros)_. + + COMPTES RENDUS ET NOTICES BIBLIOGRAPHIQUES. + +CONTENTS: October, 1892. No. 202. + + DU TROUBLE DES FACULTÉS MUSICALES DANS L’APHASIE. By _Dr. + Brazier_. + + LE DÉVELOPPEMENT DE LA VOLONTÉ. (Concluded.) By _A. Fouillée_. + + LE MOUVEMENT PÉDAGOGIQUE. By _E. Blum_. + + ANALYSES ET COMPTES RENDUS. + + REVUES DES PÉRIODIQUES ÉTRANGERS. + +CONTENTS: November, 1892. No. 203. + + LA PSYCHOLOGIE DE W. JAMES. By _L. Marillier_. + + DE L’UNITÉ DE LA SCIENCE: LES GRANDES SYNTHÈSES DU SAVOIR. By + _E. de Roberty_. + + SUR LES DIVERSES FORMES DU CARACTÈRE. By _Th. Ribot_. + + VARIÉTÉS. + + ANALYSES ET COMPTES RENDUS. + + REVUE DES PÉRIODIQUES ÉTRANGERS. (Paris: Félix Alcan.) + + +PHILOSOPHISCHES JAHRBUCH. Vol. V. No. 4. + +CONTENTS: + + DIE NEUESTE PHASE DES SCHOPENHAUERIANISMUS. (Concluded.) + _Bäumker._ + + DIE SPECULATIVEN GRUNDLAGEN DER OPTISCHEN WELLENTHEORIE. + (Concluded.) _S. J. Linsmeier._ + + RELIGION UND ENTWICKELUNGSTHEORIE. (Concluded.) _Schanz._ + + DER SUBSTANZBEGRIFF BEI CARTESIUS IM ZUSAMMENHANG MIT DER + SCHOLASTISCHEN UND NEUEREN PHILOSOPHIE. (Continued.) _S. J. + (C.) Ludewig._ + + RECENSIONEN UND REFERATE. (Fulda: Fuldaer Actien-Druckerei.) + + + + + VOL. III. APRIL, 1893. NO. 3. + + THE MONIST. + + + + +RELIGION AND MODERN SCIENCE. + + +I. + +The ancient conflict between religion and science is now, at the close +of the nineteenth century, more animated than ever before. This conflict +has formed the intellectual pivot of civilisation ever since Christianity +first afforded the western peoples of Europe the inconsistent spectacle +of a religion which made abundant use in its dogmatic constructions +of the theories of contemporary science, and yet assumed a hostile +attitude towards the fundamental principle of all science, the spirit +of research and unbiassed judgment generally. Rightly has one of the +acutest modern critics of Christianity, Ludwig Feuerbach,[59] maintained, +that the Christian sophistic philosophy is the necessary outcome of this +inconsistency, which proclaims as absolute truth a definite, historical +revelation, such as is found in the Bible, and simply assigns to the +reason the subordinate and improper office of harmonising and defending +what is there laid down. + +There are, it is true, a great number of people, who are not disposed to +see the bitterness of the conflict now raging. It has become customary +for us to look upon the nineteenth century as an age of the comprehension +of religion, and to distinguish it from the eighteenth century, which +is regarded as a period of mere religious criticism. We boast of +having rediscovered religion, and of having secured to it a permanent +province in the dominion of the mind. But the facts of our public life +stand in curious contradiction to these assertions. In all civilised +nations, in literature, in parliamentary procedures, in all questions +that relate to religious and moral life or to education, the attentive +observer will find that a profound chasm divides humanity. Every one +feels the desirableness of bridging over this chasm, that the members of +society may be united in common labor; but again and again we are made +to experience how irreconcilable the respective claims of the opposed +parties are. He who has studied the bulls and encyclical letters of the +last two popes, Pius IX. and Leo XIII., and the commentaries on these +utterances in the _Civiltà Cattolica_, the official organ of the curia; +he who is acquainted with the polemical diatribes of the French Catholics +against the positivists and freethinkers, and against the school and +church legislation of the third republic; he who has any knowledge of +that mass of controversial literature, which the proclamation of the +doctrine of papal infallibility in the year 1870 evoked; he who has +followed the eventful and varied history of the so-called “Culturkampf” +in the German Empire, from the era of the minister Falk, down to the +recent bill for a new School-law in Prussia, defeated amidst the greatest +excitement in all parts of Germany; he who is the least bit at home in +the literary feuds which are being fought out in the domain of historical +theology concerning the validity and credibility of the original sources +of Christianity; he, finally, who will place the writings of Cardinal +Newman or of the Jesuits Pesch and Cathrein by the side of those of +Huxley and Spencer, by the side of those of Du Bois-Reymond, Strauss, +and Dühring: he, I say, who has gone through with a critical spirit all +that I have cited in the preceding sentences, will surely not be apt +to contradict this assertion of mine that civilised humanity to-day is +separated into two groups which no longer understand each other, which do +not speak the same language, and which live in totally different worlds +of thought and sentiment—at least so far as this one critical point is +concerned of man’s relation to religion. + + “_Wie Ja und Nein sind sie,_ + _Wie Sturm und Regenbogen._” + +Have we, then, learned nothing and forgotten nothing since the days of +rationalism? The tremendous labors which our own century has devoted +to the investigation of religion in all its forms, to the unfolding of +its connection with racial mind and sentiment, and of its relation to +civilisation generally, and finally to the elucidation of the origin and +development of the great forms of religion: has all this had no other +result than that we, after a century of the most laborious research, +again find ourselves in the same attitude of unintelligent hostility +towards religion and Christianity in which the eighteenth century +revelled, and out of which we have only fought our way by the united +efforts of a host of profoundly enlightened minds? + +This argument has been advanced in opposition to the leaders of the +rationalistic movement and to the work of the eighteenth century in +varying forms, by the party which seeks to ally the science of the +present and the religion of the past. It is seriously said and enjoined +that only they who are far behind the science of the times and hold aloof +from the true spirit of the age can still assume the repugnant attitude +toward religion which was characteristic of the mind of the eighteenth +century. + +It is high time to point out the crude confusion of ideas which lies at +the basis of this argument. It confounds the historical understanding +of a thing with the philosophical approval of it. But these are two +totally distinct things. We understand a phenomenon historically, when +we are clear in our minds concerning the external conditions and habits +of thought of humanity from which it sprung; when its main-springs of +action and its purposes, as well as the effects which have proceeded +from it, are distinctly traceable. The more closely our mental pictures +of these things correspond to the facts as they actually were at the +origin, and the more they conduct us from the mere surface of phenomena +into the secrets of their psychological and sociological connection, and +teach us to understand these things as products of mind and of society, +the higher will our historical knowledge of them be rated. In this sense +the knowledge which the eighteenth century had of religious phenomena +was undoubtedly very imperfect. True, even here great advances beyond +the age which preceded, are noticeable. People had ceased to regard +the origin of the Jewish and Christian religion as a supernatural event +and as the immediate work of God; all religions were placed upon the +same footing, as species of the same kind; and efforts were made to +discover their common characteristics and the law of their origin. But +the people of that period were not yet able to arrive at the true essence +of religious ideas and sentiments. They were hardly in a position to +describe them properly, let alone to explain them. Of the hypotheses +devised to throw some light into the darkness that hung over the +beginnings of religions, not one proved itself competent to supply what +was hoped for. All that they could derive from these fictions was that +notable caricature of religion which their age had directly before its +eyes, and to free themselves from which they strained every nerve. With +the keen vision of hate they uncovered all the infirmities of religion, +all the terrors and iniquities which have followed in its train, all +the injurious effects to civilisation which have proceeded from it. +They created a negative picture of religion, which has lost nothing of +its partial historical truth by the fact that many of its features are +farther withdrawn from our immediate experience than they were from that +of the times in question. + +But it was the nineteenth century that first worked out the true +psychology of religious man, and again came into possession of that +spirit of congeniality which is absolutely necessary to our entering into +the mental life of far-distant times. To the men of the rationalistic +age the history of religion was simply the history of the obscuration +of the pure, natural religion, which was supposed to be constituted of +a rational idea of God and a system of humane ethics, and which was +indistinctly conceived at times as the logical, and at times as the +historical, antecedent of the concrete religions. The latter appeared as +the corruption of the natural and simple order of things—a corruption +produced by superstition, by the wily exploitation of human credulity and +human needs, by the scheming machinations of the founders of religions +and of priests, by human delight in the marvellous, by the falsification +of the natural moral sentiments, and by the stirring into life of +fanatical passions. We know to-day that this so-called natural religion +is nothing more than a product of late abstraction and reflection; that +the motives and selfish interests above cited have been abundantly +at work in religious history, but are nevertheless unable to explain +the internal motive force and tremendous vitality of these spiritual +products. We know to-day that religions spring with the same necessity +and in conformity with similar laws from the depths of the human mind +as language and art, and that they form an integral constituent part of +the structure of civilisation and an important weapon of humanity in +the struggle for existence. In symbolical form they embody the highest +treasures and highest ideals of national existence; in its gods humanity +beholds the imaginative perfection and explanation of its view of the +world; and in its religious practices, in its worship, in prayer, it +strives to realise the wishes and aspirations which seem to lie beyond +the reach of its powers. + +Many a riddle still remains to be solved, as is natural in a domain +that extends into the most hidden recesses of the human soul, and whose +obscurity is augmented by the fact that in the majority of cases the +most important and significant elements must be collected with infinite +pains from the rubbish of fantastic traditions. But upon the whole the +active labors of a century which calls itself with pride “the historical +century,” have borne their fruits. With respect to the intrinsic +character and the significance of religion for civilisation, there is now +every reason why a unity of opinion should prevail among all who take +their stand on the common ground of modern scientific research, whether +they be friends or opponents of religion. + +But how does a knowledge of what religion has been in the past affect +our estimate of it in the present? Do we approve of an institution or +phenomenon, because we understand how it was once possible, nay, must +have existed, and what it signified? We understand to-day the Roman +law, the Ptolemaic astronomy, the scholastic philosophy, feudalism, and +absolute monarchy, thoroughly; we know the conditions which gave rise +to them, the necessity of their appearance, and the measure of their +performances; but does it occur to us, for these reasons, to perpetuate +and make them immortal because they had once an historical significance? +What an institution in its essence is, what in past times it has +accomplished, is an inquiry that must be conducted with quite different +means from that whether it is applicable to a definite present set of +relations and necessities. The historian can render this task more easy +by teaching us to understand the general laws and necessities of national +life from the analogies of the past; but as a prophet he will always +be one that looks backwards, and it is ever to be feared that he, too, +will see the present in the light of the past. For to him alone does the +past lift its obscuring veil, who, forgetful of self and unmindful of +sacrifices, can listen to the voices of remote times and peoples, who +with a mind of Protean cast has the power to transform his intellectual +being into that to which, solely by description, he seeks to give new +life and form. The past becomes a part of him; he loves it, he admires +it. And from the reanimation of the past in historical pictures to the +attempt of a renewal of it in life is but a single step. + +Innumerable are those who have succumbed to this temptation. The entire +religious tendency of the nineteenth century exhibits this process on a +grand scale. This tendency is based on profound antiquarian studies of +the past—on that newly awakened historical interest, which aims not only +to criticise but to understand religion and ecclesiastical institutions. +Much that in the previous century seemed dead or destined to perish, +had been restored to life by it. The whole historical structure of the +Christian religion, which at the close of the age of rationalism only +existed, it would seem, as an artificially preserved ruin, has received, +through the instrumentality of these methods of thought, new supports, +and has again been made habitable for the human mind. Unmindful of the +complaints of churchmen, the future historian of civilisation will have +to characterise the second half of the nineteenth century as a period +of religious renaissance. And it is no accident, but a symptom of deep +import, that this century has completed almost all the great cathedrals +which were left unfinished and in partial ruins by the middle ages, +and placed them in their colossal grandeur before the world as lasting +monuments of its habits and tendencies of thought. + +Yet the spirit of science has also not been inactive. Political progress +has freed it from the despotic police supervision which even in the +eighteenth century heavily oppressed it. In principle at least, freedom +of thought and inquiry are to-day acknowledged by all governments, with +the single exception of the Roman curia, although in practice there are +by no means few efforts made, by influencing its representatives, to have +that proclaimed which it is desired should be proclaimed. Infinitely +great has the number of workers grown, the instruments of inquiry, the +confidence of the human mind in itself, and our power generally. And if +formerly people could conceive of no other science than such as stood in +the service of the church, to-day science claims it most emphatically +and confidently as its privilege and duty to search and test the logical +truth of the most sacred traditions, and thus to base the thought of +future generations, not on the naïve faith of their fathers, but on the +demonstrable truths of actual present knowledge. + + +II. + +Between the two groups of modern humanity, of which the one seeks to +retain the Christian religion in its historical form as the precious, +heritage of the past, and the other to supplant it by a new Idealism +formed in harmony with the spirit of science, a third class stands, which +plays the part of a mediator. This class concedes that the traditional +forms of religion are in great part unadapted to the modern mind, and +that historical Christianity is in need of improvement, but contends +that religion is an ineradicable constituent of all higher civilisation, +and must remain so, and, particularly, that Christianity is the absolute +religion, that is to say, that in Christianity as rightly understood and +naturally developed all the necessary elements of the true religion of +the future are contained. + +I should like, in the following pages, to subject the contentions of this +mediatory group to a critical examination, and to discuss the question +whether it is at all possible for one who resolutely takes his stand on +the ground of modern scientific thought, logically to have religion in +the historical sense at all. + +In effecting a mediation between the religious and scientific views +of the world,—views which appear to be separated from each other by +a profound intellectual abyss,—two ways may, generally speaking, be +pursued. Both have been frequently trodden since the days of rationalism. +I shall discuss each separately. + +The attempt may be made to resume, in a form more adapted to modern +times, the work of the reformers of the sixteenth century; to go back +even more thoroughly than they did to the original and simplest forms +of Christianity, to remove _in toto_ the superstructure which has been +reared upon it in the course of time, and to exhibit to humanity “the +pure doctrine of Christ” as the source from which to-day, as a thousand +years ago, true comfort may proceed, as the simplest, purest, and most +exalted expression of the divine and human that has ever yet been +discovered. Many of the most erudite workers in the field of critical +theology which this century can show have placed themselves in the +service of this idea, which is preached with particular enthusiasm by the +so-called “free-religious” and Unitarian confessions, and which at times +has also exhibited a noble and conciliatory activity in the homiletical +work of some mild-minded and liberal clergymen in the evangelical +churches. But our special inquiry here must be concerning the logical +and scientific foundation of this modernised primitive Christianity, and +on this point it must be frankly stated that the more faithfully such a +Christianity reflects the biblical character, the remoter it is from our +modern thought, and the more it is dominated by modern ways of thinking, +the more unhistorical and hence the more unchristian it becomes. + +The “pure doctrine of Christ,” the genuine, primitive form of +Christianity, is a Utopia of biblical criticism. What we actually +possess, in the form of historical documents, is that conception of the +doctrines and life of Christ which was put in writing several generations +after his death, and which, from amid a much greater number of +contemporaneous attempts, met by preference with the approbation of the +church. It is a hopeless task to attempt from these late records, which +betray the most various intellectual influences, to derive the authentic +doctrines of the oldest form of Christianity. No method, subjective +prepossession only, can here render a verdict. The things that appear +especially consistent and homogeneous to individual theologians and +critics are stamped as the genuine utterances of the Master. As every +time has done, so ours also constructs its picture of Christ to conform +with its wishes and wants. + +But granting even that there is nothing objectionable in this, and that +this procedure is perfectly justified, a number of difficulties still +stand in the way of this movement which have stamped the procedure of +even the most ingenious of its representatives as the outcome of pure +subjective caprice. All the written sources which we possess of the +life and teachings of Christ contain much that is in the highest degree +repugnant to the modern mind. I refer particularly to the miracles. The +difficulties which they present may be disposed of in various ways; as, +to give an example, by the method of the early rationalistic thinkers, +who accepted the miracles as facts, but sought to give them a rational +explanation, or by that of Strauss, who held that they were the mythical +and poetical raiment of religious ideas and sentiments. Yet no art of +interpretation will banish from the world that fact which the poet +expressed in the words: + + “_Das Wunder ist des Glaubens liebstes Kind._” + +The fact that the entire cast of thought and sentiment of early +Christianity is saturated with the belief in the marvellous, and with +the expectations, nay, with the actual need of miracles, and that this +is not an adscititious ornament which can be doffed at pleasure, like a +dress which we have outgrown, but is of the very essence of Christianity. +Here is rooted that childlike and simple belief in the limitless and +God-coercing power of prayer, for which no natural laws nor force of +necessity exists, which is omnipotent as the Godhead itself, and as +all-powerful as desire. Here is rooted that ardent conviction of the near +collapse of the entire world, of the coming kingdom of perfection which +shall proceed, not from deeds and thought, but from faith and grace, and +shall crown all human desires with glory. And intimately connected with +all this stands the idea, visible in the background of all the moral +prescripts of the gospels, and painted in the strongest colors, of a +system of punishments and rewards in the world beyond; which makes of a +God of love, a pitiless, infuriate God of vengeance. + +These things are so intimately interwoven with the modes of thought of +the synoptic writers that it is impossible to separate them therefrom +without doing violence to the internal connection of their doctrines. +They who seek after a more spiritual conception may, it is true, find +it in the gospel of John. But this book is so completely dominated by +the metaphysical-religious speculation of the second century, and by the +effort to bring the history of the life and doctrines of the Nazarene in +the service of the Logos idea, that the modern mind can only with great +difficulty find a common ground of understanding with it. + +The task of the modern reformers is, for these reasons, a very difficult +one. They cannot but concede that Christianity, even in its purely +evangelical form, contains much that is foreign to us, and that the +elements of which it is composed must in part be excised and in part +improved by criticism and interpretation. + +But the more the critical sense which is brought to bear upon this +task is developed in the spirit of modern scientific thought, the more +will historical Christianity shrink to the form of a mere colorless +abstraction, and ultimately nothing remains of its exuberant yet +visionary mental world but the picture of a philanthropic life joined +to a strongly developed consciousness of God, which proclaims a +popular morality in commandments and parables. But even this latter is +inevitably exposed to the same fate as the other ideas. It is dominated +throughout by the extremest notions of rewards and punishments, which +the expectation of the doom of the world places in the very immediate +future. It is impossible to take the system as a whole, and it must be +made the subject of violent interpretation to acquire any fitness for +the needs of modern life. Its principles are systematically turned and +twisted till they have acquired in some direction practical utility. And +who at this day can forget, that this system of morality, wherever and +whenever attempts have been made literally and faithfully to imitate it +in practical life, has led only to wretched caricatures? Moreover, it is +again and again freely remodelled in the spirit of modern ethics, its +offensive elements charitably cloaked, its useful ones developed to +the utmost, and finally here too a complete set of wholly modern ideas +consecrated by the borrowed authority of a venerable antiquity. + +And therefore I repeat my contention, that the modern reformation, this +modern, pure, and scriptural Christianity, will, the honester it is, +all the more surely lead its adherents away from Scripture and from +Christianity and ultimately bring them to the adoption of a popularly +expounded, but philosophically established, ethical system. + +I shall now take up the second of the two methods above mentioned. +That which we have just considered was known and affected even by the +eighteenth century. The discovery of the second is a merit of the present +time. The honor belongs in a pre-eminent degree to the speculative +philosophy of Germany, and to the intimate relations with theology which +this philosophy, especially in the school of Hegel and Schleiermacher, +entered into in the first half of the century. (Kant’s philosophy was not +put to similar use until later.) All these movements, whose rich literary +ramifications and development may be followed to the present day in Otto +Pfleiderer’s excellent and erudite work, “The History of Protestant +Theology in Germany Since Kant,”[60] have also begun in recent times, +through Green, Caird, A. Seth, J. Martineau, R. Flint, and F. Robertson, +to exert an influence on Anglo-American intellectual life. + +The common fundamental feature of this second movement is, that it +proposes to accept as pure Christianity, not only the most ancient forms +of Christian doctrine accessible to us, but also the entire system +of dogmatic thoughts which in the course of the centuries primitive +Christianity has produced. Christianity, these men say, has historically +existed and acted in these maturer notions. It is not permissible +arbitrarily to separate them from it, and to reverse by any authoritative +edicts the real historical development. On the contrary, we now may and +must continue the process which, by the tenor of dogmatic history, is the +process which has continued for centuries, and give to the dogmas the +form which best accords with modern spiritual needs. To-day as in the +days of incipient Christianity, we see by the side of the naïve literal +belief, which takes no offence at incomprehensible things if they only +suit the needs of its heart, a gnosis arise which strives to reconcile +faith and knowledge, religion and intellectual culture; a gnosis which to +the unbelieving sceptic quotes the words of the poet: + + “_Die Geisterwelt ist nicht verschlossen;_ + _Dein Sinn ist zu; dein Herz ist todt!_ + _Auf! bade, Schüler, unverdrossen_ + _Die ird’sche Brust im Morgenroth!_” + +It is perhaps even more difficult to give a succinct and comprehensive +notion of the ideas of this speculative theology, than of the results of +the New Testament exegesis of which we spoke above. All gradations are +here represented, from tender, conservative regard for the traditional +beliefs of the sects and the needs of the pious heart to the boldest +speculative interpretations and critical restrictions of dogma, which +utterly discard the historical form and hold fast only to a central +germinal truth. The present inquiry will restrict itself to those +representatives of this gnosis, who as a matter of principle grant +the greatest field of action to the rational development of dogma, +and represent its philosophical elaboration in its finest and most +complicated form. I shall attempt to signalise the ideas which may to-day +be designated as the most spiritualised expression of the Christian view +of the world. + +And first let us hear a greater mind speak. In Ludwig Feuerbach’s essays +on the nature of religion and Christianity the following sentences occur: + +“The Christian religion is the revealed inwardness, the objectively +expressed self of man; the contents of his highest aspirations; the +essence of man purified and freed from the limitations of individuality; +yet all subjectivised, that is intuited, known, and worshipped as a +separate, independent entity, wholly distinct from himself. Religion +is essentially dramatical. God himself is a dramatical creation, that +is to say, a personal being opposed to man. He who takes from religion +this idea, takes from it the gist of its being, and holds but the _caput +mortuum_ in his hands.” + +These sentences of Feuerbach express with the greatest generality and +precision the innermost nature of the Christian view of the world. They +characterise excellently the point that cannot be given up without +destroying the religious view as such. What I refer to is dualism, the +dualism of the divine and the human, of the world beyond, and the world +that is, of holiness and sin; dualism conceived not merely as a mode of +view and of conceptual distinction, as a working contrariety in things +that by their nature are one, but as a metaphysical difference, an actual +contraposition of two worlds, of two kingdoms of existence, which are +totally separate, no matter how extensive the relations of the one to +the other may be. Only on such a supposition is that possible which +Feuerbach, with inimitable aptness, called “the dramatic element” of +religion. The history of humanity, the history of its religious life +particularly, is no monologue of humanity with itself into which life +and advancement enter solely through the multitude of the ideas created +by individuals within the race itself. It is an action or process in a +higher sense, an interactivity between two worlds, in which, it is true, +humanity, to a certain extent, shapes its own fortunes and destiny, but +at the same time is also constantly exposed to the interferences of a +power which stands beyond and above it and to which it has to accommodate +itself. And whatever artifices and care many of the representatives of +the modern gnosis may employ to conceal this fundamental assumption, and +to substitute for it the point of view of the immanence of this power +in the world, still any radical breach with it is impossible without +endangering the very foundations of the religious sense of humanity +itself. + +The indispensability of this dualistic opposition and separation is +equally well exhibited whether we take as our starting-point the +existence of the world at large or the individual consciousness of man. +The religious mode of view knows of no other way of asserting the rights +and activity of the mind in the All than by making all existence assume +a personal life in an infinite, self-conscious, and ethically perfect +being. The emotions and experiences of one’s heart, its vacillations +between humility and exaltation, remorse at the consciousness of one’s +own imperfections, the inspired flight of the soul to higher realms of +existence, appear as the intercourse of man with some extraneous power, +allied to man and yet above him, in which the sum of all excellence to +which thought and experience have ever led man, has its eternal source. + +These ideas constitute the point of view which is decisive of the history +of humanity, particularly in what concerns religion. The history of +religion is, in accordance with these ideas, conceived as a continuous +self-revelation of God in the world of man. True, this view seems to be +contradicted by the fact that the self-revelation of this infinitely good +power is effected in the case of by far the greater part of mankind in a +very insufficient manner—in the form, namely, of crude and superstitious +notions which stand in need of constant purification by reason. But the +explanation of this fact is sought in the idea of a divine pedagogical +training of the human race, and in the theory that religion is not an +immediate self-revelation of the absolute, but passes through the medium +of the human mind and consequently must be conditioned by its character. + +Christianity, now, especially appears as the highest form of this +self-revelation of God in humanity, that is to say as the absolute +religion, which, in its historical forms, it is true, is as little +free from adscititious ornaments and transient obscurations as other +religions, yet in its essence can be as little improved as it can be +discarded. This innermost essence of Christianity the majority of the +representatives of this modern gnosis declare to be the conviction that +all men are from the beginning children of God. In this idea two things +are contained: submission to the will of God who is conceived as a +kind parent and who in pity and love does everything for the best; and +the imitation in our own thought and conduct of the ethical perfection +conceived incarnate in God. The entering of man into this relation is +designated the kingdom of God—a notion which constitutes the ideal goal +of history. The condition of mind on which the kingdom of God rests is +prefigured in a typical manner in the founder of the Christian religion. +His person and his life are a guarantee of the possibility of this ideal, +and exhibit at the same time the means of its accomplishment: namely, the +helping love of God, which has infused into this one individual the whole +plenitude of its being, so far as this is at all possible with human +capacities, that humanity may have in it a direct living picture of the +highest fulfilment of its religious and moral destiny. The historical +Christ is the ideal of humanity, supported and ensouled by the spirit of +God. + +The modern gnosis here goes back to the Paulinian interpretation of the +Christ-idea. The consideration of the speculative difficulties of the +idea of the Trinity is thus rendered superfluous for it. This notion +is treated by the majority of its representatives simply as a dogmatic +antiquity; its place is taken by the modern ideas of a distinction +between the person of Jesus and the principle or spirit of Christianity, +which is synonymous with the contrast of the idea and its revelation, +the eternal and the temporal, of the inward essence and its historical +realisation. That it employs the notions of idea, principle, and essence +wholly in a Platonic sense, as the highest metaphysical realities, is +self-evident. + +More distant still is the attitude which this speculative theology +assumes towards another idea which proceeded from the Rabbinical school +of thought of Paul: the notion of salvation or redemption in its +connection with the expiatory death of Christ. From these conceptions +of punitive suffering, of a vicarious atonement of God in his own +person—conceptions of such juristical refinement as to be wholly +unacceptable to modern modes of thought—the modern gnosis has upon the +whole resolutely turned away and taken refuge in that more spiritual +and more profound idea which in early Christian times the author of the +gospel of St. John promulgated. The death of Christ is redemptive only in +the sense in which Christ’s total history is redemptive, as the direct +and prefigurative incarnation of the true religious relation between God +and man. This is, it is true, applicable in a quite special sense to the +Death; for it was by this that the eternal truth was manifested, that not +only does all salvation accrue to man from the sacrifice of his own self +in duteous and patient love, but that all the life of God is an emanation +of this self-surrendering excellence, of this bliss of self-sacrifice. +Still, there is one thing that is common to all the representatives of +this movement as distinguished from the former, and that is this: they +do not content themselves with picturing the activity of Jesus Christ +in general outlines solely as one which is blessed and significant by +example and doctrine for humanity, but they assume a continuous and +active presence of the Christian principle in humanity, by means of +which the moral discord in individuals is overcome, and in the personal +spiritual life of individuals divine and human nature are united. This +is the most speculative interpretation we have of the old dogmatic +notion of redemption, which from its original character as a single +isolated phenomenon of history has here become the constant activity of a +Christian principle, and an ever-living precedent of Christian life. + +It would be a prolix and wearisome task to go through in this way the +whole dogmatism of this speculative theology. The fundamental ideas which +we have discussed will suffice to show the manner in which, on the one +hand, it spiritualised the allegorical notions of popular Christianity, +but on the other left untouched the gist of the religious view and the +dramatical or dualistic opposition of the divine and human. The notions +of grace and sanctification, the notion of the church as a living, +organised instrument of salvation, spring directly and logically from +these fundamental ideas. + +In the province of ethics this movement has a much easier task than the +churches based on the New Testament. As it seeks to establish, not a +primitive Christianity, but a modernised Christianity developed in the +spirit of recent times, there is no necessity of its being incommoded +by the ethical crudenesses of early Christianity, but it is in the +same position to work these crudenesses over critically as it did the +asperities of the old dogmas. It can assimilate most of what it needs +from modern philosophical ethics, and content itself with giving to what +it has thus borrowed a metaphysically religious background derived from +dogmatic traditions. + +That this modern gnosis is in a constant state of vacillation with +respect to the practical things of life, is a necessary consequence of +its fundamental assumptions and of its position towards the doctrines +of the church. Its foremost representatives acknowledge without any +reserve that the true source from which religious emotions and sentiments +flow is the symbolic or imaginative faculty of man. The grandly simple +pictures in which the ancient Christian faith found satisfaction are +now in the course of time inevitably disintegrated by the critical +reason. The speculative theology itself proclaims that its vocation is +one of coöperation towards this end. But it maintains nevertheless that +the fruits of this work, the speculative interpretation of the dogmas, +their exaltation into the sphere of the Idea, are fit only for initiated +minds, and are caviare for the general. The general, the people, want +and will use religion in the form which its fancy has created, and it +cannot be revealed to it in any other. Progressive in its theories, +this gnosis is in its ecclesiastical practice thoroughly conservative. +It thinks two kinds of thought, and speaks two kinds of languages, +according as it finds itself in the pulpit or in the professorial chair. +And it is in just this procedure that it assumes a position which it is +very difficult to attack. He, who working for a sound and progressive +popular enlightenment on the ground of a unitary view of the world, +opposes the further use of the antiquated and effete allegories of the +old religions, is told that he is behind the times, and that religion, +nurtured by the spirit of modern science, has become something different +from what it formerly was. In very strict ecclesiastical quarters this +gnosis is looked at askance, and accused of insincerity, nay, of secret +alliance with unbelief; but the movement never allowed itself to be led +astray by these accusations, and has never failed to assert its right +of coöperation in the common work of the Christian church. For though +it pretends to be in the hands of the thinking theologian a means of +bringing into harmony the faith which he must confess and the thought +which he cannot abandon, it yet admits, that with the majority of mankind +the allegory will always remain an essential element of religion, and +that therefore the task of scientific theology can never be to destroy +these vessels of religion, but only to exercise a watchful care, that +with the form the spirit also may not be lost. + + +III. + +The question now arises,—and this brings us back to the considerations +of the first part of this essay,—Does this rationalised Christianity of +to-day really meet the demands of science, and if it does not, is it in +the power of the modern scientific world-conception to furnish from its +own resources some substitute for the religious views of the past? + +My answer to this question will be short and concise; for the existence +of _The Monist_, the fundamental idea of its management, and the +total character of the efforts which it has hitherto made, speak with +sufficient emphasis. And we may, therefore, with the greatest respect +for the scientific zeal and the personal ability of many of the +representatives of this mediatory theology, say, without further ado: +This rationalised Christianity of yours also is myth and symbol; it still +adheres to that “dramatic” division of the world which our imaginations +produced, and to the metaphysical dualism of God and man; it cannot +lift itself to a rigorous conception of the All in One, for which God +is in the same sense a simple function of human thought as thought is a +function of the human organism. The God on whom all depends in religion, +the God whose name is “Father,” the God of love and goodness, the God +from whom all great thoughts and all grand resolves spring, the God who +sanctifies us and lifts us above the earth—to displace this God from +the world in which he has no place, into the inward being of humanity +seems at this day so strange, nay, inconceivable, only because we have +accustomed ourselves (and down to the times of Mill and Feuerbach, even +strict monistic thinkers like Spinoza fell victims to this illusion) to +mingle together in the idea of God two wholly distinct ideas—the ideas, +namely, of nature and of an ethical ideal. To preserve this latter +inviolate, and to secure it from all encroachments of human caprice, +one thing alone seemed to the naïve dramatic modes of thought of early +times a competent safeguard: the ideal must in some locality be real; the +highest to which human thought and aspiration can exalt itself must be +sought and must exist in some superhuman reality. And what reality could +be better adapted to this than one on which even nature was conceived to +be dependent? The entire history of the development of the idea of God in +the Græco-Roman and Hebrew worlds, the confluence of these two streams +of thought in Christian speculation, exhibit in the clearest possible +manner these motives, which here I can only lightly touch upon. + +But this combination of the law of nature and the law of ethics in the +idea of God, although solving some of the difficulties of humanity, has +plunged it into incomparably greater ones. Through all the centuries +of Christian thought a succession of desperate attempts may be traced +to establish a theodicy, that is to say, attempts to demonstrate the +existence in nature and in history of a God which harmonises with the +ethical ideal. Even Kant could undertake to demonstrate the “necessary +failure of all attempts at a theodicy,” and whoever might still have +entertained any doubt as to the correctness of this demonstration, such a +one must surely have been convinced of it by the scientific development +of the past century. That which was indissolubly welded together in +the Christian idea of God is to-day disintegrated into its component +elements. The Lord _above_ nature, the Spirit _behind_ nature, have been +rendered inconceivable by the modern notions of the conformity to law of +all natural occurrences and of the unity of all existence. The spirit +immanent in the All no thinker will deny, for this spirit manifests +itself in an indisputable manner in the fact that this All is a cosmos, +not a chaos, that not only the caprice of chance but also the laws of +necessity rule in it, and that the personal self-conscious mind springs +from its midst. But from this recognition of mind in the All, there is no +bridge that leads to the old idea of God. We cannot worship the All as a +moral ideal. We involve ourselves in absurd complications when we attempt +to derive the actions of natural events and their conformity to law from +ethical categories, and it is no less a desperate undertaking to imagine +that we can draw impulses for our moral thought and conduct from nature. +The adaptation of means to ends, the teleology, that rules in the All, is +veiled for us in the deepest obscurity. All that we can unravel of it has +no resemblance to that which, according to our notions, is ethical: + + “_Denn unfühlend ist die Natur_,” + +she does not know what love or mercy is; she knows only the omnipotent +power of universal laws; she knows only the rights of the whole, to +which she sacrifices with unconcern the individual; she revels in the +double pleasure of unceasing creation and unceasing destruction; she arms +unpityingly the strong against the weak; in crises of annihilation she +restores the disturbed equilibrium of things; but the palm of peace no +one has ever seen in her hand. And we? We stand amazed at her might and +greatness, at the plentitude of her powers of creation, at her myriad +play of forces, at the inexhaustible wealth of the relations with which +she binds being to being, creates and mediates contrarieties, and amidst +the most varied change and alternation, ever remains one and the same! +But our prototype, our God, she can never be. To him we must look up; +but on nature, despite her might, despite her stupendous grandeur, we +look down. She did not whisper in our ears that in us which is best and +highest. That did not come to us from heaven; _we ourselves_ won it +by hard struggles, by terribly severe, self-imposed discipline. It is +not _of_ nature; it is _above_ nature. Through _us_ something has come +into the world that before us did not exist—something that the most +exuberant creative magic, or nature’s grandest mechanical dreams, could +never replace. The day on which first a human being pressed his weaker +fellow-man to his breast and said, “Brother, not mine, but thy will be +done; I will give up my desires that thou also mayst be glad”; the day +on which man first lifted up his head and said, “Let us make the world +_good_ in the likeness of the picture that has become living in us, just +as it should be”; this is the great and sanctified day in the history of +our race on earth, the Christmas day on which God was born. But not as +the religious fancy has expressed it, the day on which God became man, +but the day on which man began to become God, that is the day on which he +began to feel spiritual powers in his breast that transcended his animal +impulses—powers to which the majority of humanity was still as remote as +heaven from earth. + +This strict anthropological conception of God as the ideal which is +always newly creating itself in the struggles of humanity, which is no +Being but a Becoming, solves the innumerable difficulties which the idea +of God has hitherto placed in the way of rigorous scientific knowledge +and the construction of a unitary conception of the world. This God has +nothing to do with the All. We need not seek him in the All or behind the +All, and need not fear that any progress of our knowledge will make his +existence a matter of doubt with us. Concerning the real validity of this +idea we need not bother ourselves with more or less weak and insufficient +demonstrations: the whole history of humanity is evidence of it if we +but know how to rightly interpret it, and the stumbling block of the old +theological idea of God has become the corner-stone upon which the new +scientific conception is built. + +Nature and human history the work of an omnipotent and all-kind being +that is mediately and immediately active in all events, nay, sacrificed +himself in his own person that he might realise in this world his +purposes! Compare the principle, the active force of this world-drama, +pictured by the religious fancy as the highest power, the highest wisdom, +and all-merciful love, with the real spectacle of the world! Is there +anywhere a more pronounced contradiction, an obscurer riddle, a more +inconceivable contrast between purpose and accomplishment? This world +of cruelty and woe, in which one creature feeds on the heart-blood of +another, in which here and there from seas of mud and dirt a form of +light springs up, in which every nobler production must be bought with +torrents of blood and tears; this revelation and self-manifestation of +God in humanity, which everywhere appears joined to definite historical +suppositions, which lacks all the conditions of true universality and of +indisputable evidence, so that instead of forming a means of union it +has become the source of dreadful contentions; this work of salvation +and sanctification which is so restricted in its effects that “the +kingdom of God” is still a dreamy vision of humanity, so restricted +that we still see the majority of men, despite the most extraordinary +supernatural dispositions, still remain far behind the simple ideals +of natural ethical commandments, that hate and dissension, cruelty and +selfishness, perform their unhallowed work—is this the work of infinite +power and infinite wisdom? What claims theodicy makes on human thought! +And how different the picture is, the moment we abandon the false +theocentric point of view and assume the anthropocentric! Instead of a +belief which all facts contradict—an idea which elucidates them all. +No one can say how we are to interpret facts as the work of a holy and +absolutely perfect being; but it can be shown, step by step, how in this, +our human world, more perfect things spring from imperfect things, moral +and mental laws from the blind play of natural forces and powers, the +conscious energy of will from blind and unreasonable impulse, law and +love of man from the selfishness and warring of all against all, and the +notion of the unity of the race from infinite disruption and disunion. +We must not allow ourselves to be led astray or discouraged here by the +changing undulations and tremendous crises of this battle for the good. +The ideal springs out of a dark abyss. The roots of our being are deep +laid in nature, yet we struggle to exalt ourselves above it. No wonder, +therefore, that time and again it draws us back. + +The greatest and sublimest spectacle! A tragical one, one filled with +struggle and suffering, and yet one infinitely full of hope. For it shows +us the inexhaustible grandeur of the human mind; it shows us the good, +the ideal, as a tremendous real power, a power eternally becoming, surely +forming itself out of an infinitude of individual deeds, a power fully +incarnate in no one person, yet active and living in humanity. Not a +tangible activity, and yet one of the realest of facts. A supersensuous, +nay, if you will, a supernatural realm of thought; not the faded +reflection or shadow of a grandeur and power beyond us, but the fruit +of the noblest activities and powers of this given, existing world, +antagonised in life, but grand and powerful in thought; imperfect even in +its boldest flights, but bearing within it the germ of greater things to +come. + +Here is the true point of union for Christian dogma and science. Here is +the God in which science also may, nay, must, believe. Not humanity in +its empirical reality, but the ideal world developed within the human +realm of things—the spirit of humanity. This is the only true object +of worship. Before it we are humiliated, and by it we feel ourselves +exalted. From it we receive all the good that life bestows upon us; it +gives us light and peace and lucid thought. And what higher, nobler thing +can a life produce than the feeling that it has not been unworthy of this +great ancestry, that it has helped to keep alive this holy fire, that it +has helped, perhaps, to fan by its own life this living flame to greater +heights? + +Here is the true source of the ideas of accountability and of salvation. +We are not responsible to a being outside and above us, but to our own +selves and to humanity, from which we have received the best that it had +to give, and for which we must return what we ourselves have produced. +This consciousness of being thrown utterly on the resources of one’s own +self, on one’s own powers, was first created in the human mind by science +and the technical arts, (as that most venerable and most sacred of all +myths, the legend of Prometheus, so profoundly indicates,) and this +consciousness will, by the progress of knowledge and power, be made more +and more the dominating one of humanity. This is not a consciousness of +omnipotence; it does not exclude the subjection of man to the inexorable +laws of the universe; but it demands the enlistment of all the powers +of the race: for nature does not give us more than we wrest from her by +arduous toil. + +And as humanity is accountable only to itself, so do the means of its +salvation lie only in itself. Not in any one individual, but in the +spirit in it which ever works onward and upward. Yet this spirit is +not an unpersonal existence; it must be possessed again and ever again +by living men. And no one can serve humanity or augment its spiritual +treasures or reincarnate in himself its holiest possessions without first +having and feeling within himself the blessing of what he has done. +And thus the profoundest significance of human life on earth may be +formulated and embraced in that saying of the poet which was throughout +conceived in the spirit of our times, and would have been wholly +incomprehensible to the mind of those who gave us our faith—in the words: + + “_Erlösung dem Erlöser._” + + F. JODL. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[59] _Wesen des Christenthums._ First edition. 1841. Pp. 288-289. + +[60] Translation published by Swan, Sonnenschein & Co., London, 1891. + + + + +THE RELIGION OF SCIENCE. + + +Are religion and science indeed as contrary as they are often represented +to be, and is the proposition to reconcile them a hopeless and futile +undertaking? Professor Jodl, in his article “Religion and Modern +Science,” (pp. 329-351 of this number,) says: + + “That civilised humanity to-day is separated into two groups + which no longer understand each other, which do not speak the + same language, and which live in totally different worlds of + thought and sentiment.” + +There are those who cling to the old religions and those who supplant it +by a new idealism. Between both, he adds: + + “A third class stands which plays the part of a mediator.” + +Professor Jodl does not approve of reconciling the historical forms of +religion with science. He rightly says: + + “The ‘pure doctrine of Christ,’ the genuine, primitive form of + Christianity, is a Utopia of biblical criticism.” + +We heartily agree with him in his remarks concerning the part which the +miraculous and supernatural play in the Gospels: + + “These things are so intimately interwoven with the modes + of thought of the synoptic writers that it is impossible to + separate them therefrom without doing violence to the internal + connection of their doctrines.” + +We also concur upon the whole with Professor Jodl in his criticism of +the methods of Speculative Theology. No compromising with traditional +errors, no covering or extenuating of the results of historical criticism +is allowable merely for the love of tradition and for the preservation of +errors that have become dear to a large number of people. + +We do not condemn the work of any mediator; on the contrary, we rather +encourage it. We observe with pleasure in the latest phases of the +religious evolution of Speculative Theology the prevalence of a more +modern spirit, and we follow with a keen interest also the progress of +biblical critique in its truly valuable labors: but we do not expect that +either the one or the other will accomplish any regeneration of religion. + +Professor Jodl knows very well that the editors of _The Monist_ and +_The Open Court_ have not undertaken any work of compromising between +the errors of the past and the ideal of the future. Our idea of a +reconciliation between religion and science is of a different nature. We +are not blind to the errors of the old religions, and we do not mean to +gloss them over, or to make old-fashioned views acceptable by presenting +them in a new garment. We do not even stop to bury the dead, for we +have better things to do than to trouble with problems that have been +definitely settled. We keep our hands to the plough to accomplish the +work needed to-day. + +While we are not blind to the errors of the old religions, we recognise +at the same time that they contain in the language of parables some great +truths which will remain forever. These truths constitute the backbone of +religion, and we regard it as a very important duty of ours to preserve +them. These truths must be preserved, not because they were believed in +by our fathers, nor from any respect for tradition, nor from any regard +for our sentiments, but simply because they are truths, because they can +be proved to be true according to the methods of scientific inquiry. + +What is religion? Religion consists of all those ideas which regulate +our conduct. In the savage these ideas are very crude and superstitious, +and often self-contradictory. The higher a man rises, the clearer, the +more scientific and consistent do these ideas become, until they develop +into a systematic world-conception. Every scientific idea that changes +our world-conception will change also our religion and with it our rules +of conduct. Thus, for example, the idea of evolution has become to us an +eminently religious idea. + +In order to indicate that the criterion of truth for religion is the very +same thing as the criterion of truth for science, we have proposed to +call the religion we advocate, “The Religion of Science.” (For details +see the editorial of Vol. VII, No. 1, of _The Open Court_.) + +Our procedure appears to many as an annihilation of religion in favor of +science. But it is not. And why not? + +We have learned many truths first from religion, long before science +could ever think of proving them. In several respects science took the +lead, and religion remained at a long distance behind, awkwardly, very +slowly, and unwillingly limping onward on the road of progress. Instances +are, the acceptance of the Copernican system and of the evolution theory. +But in other respects religion took the lead, and science was unable to +follow its ingenious flight. As instances of this we cite such moral +truths as the love of enemies, which were not preached by scientists +as scientific truths, but by religious teachers, by Confucius, Buddha, +and Christ. There are scientists even to-day who regard what we would +call “moral truths” as maxims that are contrary to the established views +of science. Professor Huxley, for instance, is very emphatic in his +declaration that the facts of nature do not teach morality.[61] + +This leads us to a point in which we disagree with Professor Jodl. He +speaks of the illusion “of mingling together in the idea of God two +wholly distinct ideas—the ideas namely of nature and of an ethical +ideal”—an illusion to which “even strict monistic thinkers like Spinoza +fell victims.” + +Professor Jodl’s position reminds us of John Stuart Mill’s “Essay on +Nature,” in which he exposes the old doctrine _naturam sequi_ in all its +absurd meanings and carefully avoids a discussion of the only rational +conception of the precept. Thus his tirades appear most convincing, and +to be sure they are quite correct—so far as they go. Says Mill: + + “In sober truth, nearly all the things which men are hanged or + imprisoned for doing to one another, are nature’s every-day + performances. Killing, the most criminal act recognised by + human laws, Nature does once to every being that lives.... + + “Nature impales men, breaks them as if on the wheel, casts them + to be devoured by wild beasts, burns them to death, crushes + them with stones like the first Christian martyr, starves them + with hunger, freezes them with cold, poisons them by the quick + or slow venom of her exhalations, and has hundreds of other + hideous deaths in reserve, such as the ingenious cruelty of a + Nabis or a Domitian never surpassed.” + +Mill must indeed have felt the need of beginning these sentences with the +words “In sober truth”; otherwise he might be suspected of humor. + +Similarly comical is Mill’s proposition to regard every voluntary action +of man as a direct infringement upon nature. Man’s reason in that case +would be the most unnatural phenomenon in the world, and the term +“nature” would be confined to the lowest realms of existence exclusively. +If the usage of reason were indeed an infringement upon nature, man’s +appearance upon earth would mark the beginning of a supernatural realm; +and Professor Jodl seems to accept this consequence when he says: + + “It is not _of_ nature, it is _above_ nature.” + +If man’s rationality and his ethics were not born of nature, if their +conditions were not founded in the very existence of nature, if they were +not the natural product of evolution, then indeed I see no escape from a +dualistic world-conception, in which a supernatural God introduces the +spark of divinity which appears in the soul of man from spheres beyond. + +We have devoted to these vagaries of John Stuart Mill an elaborate +discussion in another place and do not feel the need of repeating our +arguments in this connection.[62] + +We agree with Professor Jodl that no rationalising of old dogmas will +help us in the establishment of “a new idealism, formed in harmony +with the spirit of science.” We must build our religion anew (as every +generation had to build its religion anew) out of the best materials +which are furnished by the maturest and most reliable knowledge of +to-day. Says Professor Jodl: + + “Through _us_ something has come into the world that before + us did not exist—something that the most exuberant creative + magic, or nature’s grandest mechanical dreams, could never + replace. The day on which first a human being pressed his + weaker fellow-man to his breast and said, “Brother, not mine, + but thy will be done; I will give up my desires that thou also + mayst be glad”; the day upon which man first lifted up his head + and said, “Let us make the world _good_ in the likeness of the + picture that has become living in us, just as it should be”; + this is the great and sanctified day in the history of our race + on earth, the Christmas day on which God was born.” + +Certainly the origin of man on earth, and again the evolution of the +moral man, is something quite new, which before did not exist. But did +humanity originate out of nothing, as sometimes the imaginations of +a poet are supposed to be created, or is there a prototype in whose +image man has been created? Man’s reason, his ethics, and his humanity +are something that did not exist before, but there is a feature in +existence which makes it possible that rational and moral beings develop. +Should there be sentient beings on other planets, and we have little +reason to doubt it, we can be sure that they also will develop rational +minds, and that they also will learn, perhaps as we did, through many +bitter experiences, the same truths which constitute our main maxims of +morality,[63] including such precepts as the love of enemies. And why are +we sure that on other planets not only reason, but also the fundamental +rules of ethics will be the same as with us here on earth? Simply because +we know that there is a certain feature in reality which creates rational +beings and moral beings as naturally as it creates rocks and seas on the +surface of planets. Man’s reason and also man’s morality are not original +inventions of his, but the result of many experiences which he had to +learn. And the world in which he lives is such that he can acquire reason +and morality, and if a being should acquire a wrong kind of reason or a +wrong kind of morality, it will by and by be blotted out of existence. +Accordingly there is a prototype of reason and of morality, and this +prototype of the humanity of man is exactly that which in the language of +the old religions has received the name “God.” + +We must make a distinction between ideals and dreams. Those creations +of our fancy which are woven without any regard to reality are dreams. +They have no value beyond whiling away a leisure hour or pleasing our +imagination. But those creations of our mind which construct realisable +formations such as machines or clocks or higher conditions of human +society, are not mere dreams, they are ideals. What, then, is the +difference between a dream and an ideal? A dream is a useless ebullition +of an idle brain composed of ideas to which there is no correspondent +reality; but an ideal is a potent factor in the living presence to shape +the future: it is a combination of ideas which are correct descriptions +of actual realities. The moral aspirations of mankind are not empty +dreams, they are true and veritable ideals. There are certain qualities +in nature which make their realisation possible and these qualities +constitute the Divinity of nature. + +Professor Jodl speaks of the origin of morality as of the birth of God on +earth. Truly that is the meaning of Christianity. But this birth of God +into the world of human evolution as “the Son of Man” is possible only +because of the existence of the God in nature whom Christian mythology so +beautifully calls God the Father. The appearance of the Son of Man upon +earth, the birth of morality, is a revelation of the divinity of nature. + +True enough, as Professor Jodl says, that we ourselves won the best and +highest we have by hard struggles, by terribly severe, self-imposed +discipline. As Prometheus says: + + “_Hast du nicht alles selbst vollendet,_ + _Heilig glühend Herz!_” + +That, too, is part of the divinity of nature, that every creature has +to work out its very being itself, and that man must search for the way +of salvation with great anxiety, under bitter tribulations and through +extreme afflictions. But he cannot invent a new way of salvation, he has +to find it, and there is but one that is the right one. The nature of +morality is such as it is, and no other morality could be invented to +replace it. And this feature of existence which makes morality quite a +determined thing is a real presence in the world, it is an actual quality +of the universe. + +Some of our liberal friends, foremost among them Professor Haeckel, deny +the existence of a personal God and then proceed to declare that the God +of science is nothing but matter and energy. We agree with Professor +Haeckel in his rejection of anthropotheism; God is no supernatural being +nor is he a huge world-ego. But we cannot accept his view of God as being +only matter and energy. The idea of God is and always has been a moral +idea. Thus we have come to regard all those features of nature as divine +which condition the origin and existence of morality and we define God +as the authority of moral conduct. This authority is not a person, not +a sentient being, let alone a sentimental philanthropist; but it is, +nevertheless, a reality, and, indeed, a stern reality. + +Such is the God of science. God is that quality of existence through +which we originated as feeling, thinking, and aspiring beings. He is the +prototype of the human soul, and the condition under which develop man’s +reason and morality. Obedience to him is indispensable for a continued +existence, for further progress and a higher evolution of the human +soul. That these features of reality can by a great number of keen and +fearless modern thinkers be supposed to be a non-entity is difficult +to understand. This negation of the reality of qualities of existence +which are not individual things but intrinsically inherent in all the +individual things, it appears to us, is an old heirloom of nominalism. +The nominalistic philosophy represented by Roscellinus was suppressed +at the council at Soissons 1092, only to rise more powerfully in the +fourteenth century in William of Occam, and finally to exterminate +realism with all its rubbish of errors together with the truth contained +in these errors. Kant marks in many respects the culmination of the +victorious movement of nominalism. With all the benefits modern thought +derived from the philosophical work of nominalism, a reaction is needed +against its purely negative spirit. There is a truth in the old realism +which cannot be neglected with impunity.[64] + +God (viz., the name of God) is, as Kant said, a noumenon, a thing of +thought, an abstraction. God is not a thing, a concrete object, or an +individual person. All the views of God which regard him as an individual +being of some kind, or as a person only of infinite dimensions, are, +closely considered, pagan notions which belittle God. But the name of +God as a noumenon, a thought, an abstract idea, has a meaning. Abstract +ideas are not nonentities, they represent some real features, some actual +qualities, or properties, or relations; otherwise they would not be +ideas, but unmeaning sounds. + +Some of our abstract ideas are of a very delicate fibre, so that the +coarse mental vision of the average Philistine is unable to see them in +their reality and potency. But it so happens that exactly they are of a +more important, more powerful, and inevitable presence than the simple +generalisations of things that visibly and corporeally surround us. +This, their peculiar nature, makes such ideas mysterious to those who +instinctively feel their reality without being able to point it out and +understand it. And the most subtle, imponderous, and sublimated of all +ideas is the idea of God. + +We have defined God as the ultimate authority of conduct, as the +condition of our existence as rational and moral beings, as the +all-power that enforces obedience, etc.; but we cannot in any one of our +definitions exhaust the significance of the idea. We would by no means +exclude from the idea of God anything without which reality would cease +to be real. The qualities of matter and energy constitute that element +in the God-idea which justify the old religions in speaking of him as +omnipotent and everlasting. Thus they ought not to be excluded. But these +qualities alone are insufficient to characterise his being. The sum-total +of matter and energy as such and as such alone does not constitute any +moral authority. Nature in her immeasurable greatness and oppressive +vastness affects us with awe; but, after all, we look down upon her +massive sublimity. Man is more than the biggest heap of crude matter and +unintelligently operating energy. Says Professor Jodl: + + “We stand amazed at her might and greatness, at the plentitude + of her powers of creation, at her myriad play of forces, at the + inexhaustible wealth of the relations with which she binds + being to being, creates and mediates contrarieties, and amidst + the most varied change and alternation, ever remains one and + the same! But our prototype, our God, she can never be.” + +This grandeur of nature is part of her divinity, but it alone does not +constitute the character of God. Yet, observe that throughout nature +there is an imponderable quality present which makes every atom move in +a definite way, so that the whirl of gaseous masses, apparently a chaos, +will be recognised as a cosmic whole developing in a certain way and +describable in what is generally called natural laws. This subtle quality +is the condition of the regularities which are found in all the infinite +varieties and innumerable particularities, and all these regularities +conceived in their systematic unity are called the order of the universe. + +Man exists as a thinking being only because the immeasurable universe +of which he is a part possesses this quality of order, and his reason +is closely considered only a copy of it. Man’s reason was shaped into +the image of the cosmic order, and suppose—a supposition which is very +difficult to make and regarded by many as impossible or inconceivable—yet +suppose that the world-order were radically different from what it +actually is, man’s reason would accordingly be different too. Further, +suppose that the whole frame and fundamental interrelations of the +particles of reality were different from what they are, would not +correspondingly the basic rules of conduct be changed too? + +The author of this article, in the eyes of the so-called orthodox +Christian, is most certainly an atheist. And if theism means the belief +in a personal or extramundane God he is an atheist indeed. If there is +any opprobrium in the name atheism we are willing to accept it; and +certainly, we do not reject the label of atheism in order to escape any +odium attached to that name. We do reject atheism simply because we +see a great and potent truth in the idea of God which is but too often +disregarded. + +With Professor Haeckel and Professor Jodl we reject the conception of +an anthropomorphic Deity. The anthropomorphic idol is doomed before the +tribunal of science. But we see a deeper meaning in the idea of God which +has formed through millenniums the very centre of the greatest religions +on earth. Science has to recognise the reality of an all-presence in +existence which is analogous to that which in a religious language is +called God. + +Considering the fact that humanity owes many great truths to religion, +let us not be hasty in condemning the religions of the past as pure +superstition. There are valuable seeds in the chaff. If we discard the +wheat together with the tares, we shall have to rediscover them, for it +is little probable that humanity can for any length of time be satisfied +with beautiful phrases or live in its moral aspirations in a realm of +mere dreams. + + EDITOR. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[61] For a discussion of this point see _Fundamental Problems_, pp. +219-226. + +[62] See the article in Nos. 239, 241, and 242 of _The Open Court: Nature +and Morality_. An Examination of the Ethical Views of John Stuart Mill. +I. The Meaning of Basing Ethics Upon Nature. II. The Ethics Taught by +Nature. III. Intelligent Action and Moral Action. IV. The Anthropomorphic +Standpoint of Mill. + +[63] I purposely do not say _all_ maxims of conduct, because we can very +well imagine that different conditions may produce some very important +variations in the rules of conduct; but the main foundation of morality +would be the same. + +[64] There are two men at present who boldly fly the flag of the old +realism again, both having our full sympathy in their aspirations, +although we cannot agree with many of their teachings. The one is Mr. +Charles S. Peirce, the other Dr. Francis E. Abbot. + + + + +THE SUPERSTITION OF NECESSITY.[65] + + +Lest my title give such offense as to prejudice unduly my contention, I +may say that I use the term in the way indicated by its etymology: as +a standing-still on the part of thought; a clinging to old ideas after +those ideas have lost their use, and hence, like all superstitions, +have become obstructions. For I shall try to show that the doctrine +of necessity is a survival; that it holds over from an earlier and +undeveloped period of knowledge; that as a means of getting out of and +beyond that stage it had a certain value, but, having done its work, +loses its significance. Halting judgment may, indeed, at one time have +helped itself out of the slough of uncertainty, vagueness, and inadequacy +on to ground of more solid and complete fact, by the use of necessity as +a crutch; once upon the ground, the crutch makes progress slower and, +preventing the full exercise of the natural means of locomotion, tends +to paralyse science. The former support has become a burden, almost an +intolerable one. + +The beginning of wisdom in the matter of necessity is, I conceive, in +realising that it is a term which has bearing or relevancy only with +reference to the development of judgment, not with reference to objective +things or events. I do not mean by this that necessity refers to the +compelling force with which we are driven to make a given affirmation: +I mean that it refers to the content of that affirmation, expressing +the degree of coherence between its constituent factors. When we say +something or other _must_ be so and so, the “must” does not indicate +anything in the nature of the fact itself, but a trait in our _judgment_ +of that fact; it indicates the degree with which we have succeeded in +making a whole out of the various elements which have to be taken into +account in forming the judgment. More specifically, it indicates a +half-way stage. At one extreme we have two separate judgments, which, so +far as consciousness is concerned, have nothing to do with each other; +and at the other extreme we have one judgment into which the contents +of the two former judgments have been so thoroughly organised as to +lose all semblance of separateness. Necessity, as the middle term, is +the midwife which, from the dying isolation of judgments, delivers the +unified judgment just coming into life—it being understood that the +separateness of the original judgments is not as yet quite negated, +nor the unity of the coming judgment quite attained. The judgment of +necessity, in other words, is exactly and solely the transition in our +knowledge from unconnected judgments to a more comprehensive synthesis. +Its value is just the value of this transition; as negating the old +partial and isolated judgments—in its backward look—necessity has +meaning; in its forward look—with reference to the resulting completely +organised subject-matter—it is itself as false as the isolated judgments +which it replaces. Its value is in what it rids judgment of. When it has +succeeded, its value is nil. Like any go-between, its service consists in +rendering itself uncalled for. + +All science can ultimately do is to report or describe, to completely +state, the reality. So far as we reach this standpoint regarding any fact +or group of facts, we do not say that the fact _must_ be such and such, +but simply that it _is_ such and such. There is no necessity attaching +to the fact either as whole or as parts. _Qua_ whole, the fact simply is +what it is; while the parts, instead of being necessitated either by one +another or by the whole, are the analysed factors constituting, in their +complete circuit, the whole. In stating the whole, we, as of course, +state all that enters into it; if we speak of the various elements as +_making_ the whole, it is only in the sense of making it _up_, not +of causing it. The fallacy of the necessitarian theory consists in +transforming the determinate in the sense of the wholly defined, into the +determined in the sense of something externally made to be what it is. + +The whole, although first in the order of reality, is last in the order +of knowledge. The complete statement of the whole is the goal, not the +beginning of wisdom. We begin, therefore, with fragments, which are +taken for wholes; and it is only by piecing together these fragments, +and by the transformation of them involved in this combination, that we +arrive at the real fact. There comes a stage at which the recognition +of the unity begins to dawn upon us, and yet, the tradition of the many +distinct wholes survives; judgment has to combine these two contradictory +conceptions; it does so by the theory that the dawning unity is an effect +necessarily produced by the interaction of the former wholes. Only as the +consciousness of the unity grows still more is it seen that instead of +a group of independent facts, held together by “necessary” ties, there +is one reality, of which we have been apprehending various fragments in +succession and attributing to them a spurious wholeness and independence. +We learn (but only at the end) that instead of discovering and then +connecting together a number of separate realities, we have been engaged +in the progressive definition of one fact. + +There are certain points upon which there is now _practical_ agreement +among all schools. What one school has got at by a logical analysis of +science, another school has arrived at by the road of a psychological +analysis of experience. What one school calls the unity of thought +and reality, another school calls the relativity of knowledge. The +metaphysical interpretation further given to these respective statements +may be quite different, but, so far as they go, they come to the same +thing: that objects, _as known_, are not independent of the process +of knowing, but are the content of our judgments. One school, indeed, +may conceive of judgment as a mere associative or habitual grouping of +sensations, the other as the correlative diversification and synthesis of +the self; but the practical outcome, that the “object” (anyway as known) +is a form of judgment, is the same. This point being held in common, +both schools must agree that _the progress of judgment is equivalent +to a change in the value of objects_—that objects as they are for us, +as known, change with the development of our judgments. If this be so, +truth, however it be metaphysically defined, must attach to late rather +than to early judgments. + +I am fortunate in being able to quote from authors, who may be taken as +typical of the two schools. Says Professor Caird in his article upon +“Metaphysic,” (lately reprinted, “Essays in Philosophy and Literature,”): + + “Our first consciousness of things is not an immovable + foundation upon which science may build, but rather a + hypothetical and self-contradictory starting-point of + investigation, which becomes changed and transformed as we + advance.” (“Essays,” Vol. II, p. 398.) + +On the other hand, Mr. Venn writes (in the first chapter of his +“Empirical Logic”): + + “Select what object we please—the most apparently simple in + itself, and the most definitely parted off from others that we + can discover—yet we shall find ourselves constrained to admit + that a considerable mental process has been passed through + before that object could be recognised as being an object, that + is, as possessing some degree of unity and as requiring to be + distinguished from other such unities.” + +He goes on to illustrate by such an apparently fixed and given object +as the sun, pointing out how its unity as a persistent thing involves +a continued synthesis of elements very diverse in time and space, and +an analysis, a selection, from other elements in very close physical +juxtaposition. He goes on to raise the question whether a dog, for +example, may be said to “see” a rainbow at all, because of the complex +analysis and synthesis involved in such an object. The “mental whole” (to +use Mr. Venn’s words, the “ideal unity” as others might term it) is so +extensive and intricate that + + “One might almost as reasonably expect the dog to ‘see’ the + progress of democracy in the place where he lives, of which + course of events the ultimate sensible constituents are + accessible to his observation precisely as they are to ours.” + +As Mr. Venn is not discussing just the same point which I have raised, +he does not refer to the partial and tentative character of our first +judgments—our first objects. It is clear enough, however, that there +will be all degrees between total failure to analyse and combine (as, +say, in the case of the dog and rainbow) and fairly adequate grouping. +The difference between the savage whose synthesis is so limited in scope +that he sets up a new sun every day and the scientific man whose object +is a unity comprehending differences through thousands of years of time +and interactions going on through millions of miles of space is a case +in point. The distinction between the respective objects is not simply +a superimposition of new qualities upon an old object, that old object +remaining the same; it is not getting new objects; it is a continual +qualitative reconstruction of the object itself. This fact, which is the +matter under consideration, is well stated by Mr. Venn, when he goes on +to say: + + “The act of predication, in its two-fold aspect of affirmation + and denial, really is a process by which we are not only + enabled to add to our information _about_ objects, _but is also + the process by the continued performance of which the objects + had been originally acquired, or rather produced_” (italics are + mine). + +This statement cannot be admitted at all without recognising that the +first judgments do not make the object once for all, but that the +continued process of judging is a continued process of “producing” the +object. + +Of course the confused and hypothetical character of our first objects +does not force itself upon us when we are still engaged in constructing +them. On the contrary, it is only when the original subject-matter has +been overloaded with various and opposing predicates that we think of +doubting the correctness of our first judgments, of putting our first +objects under suspicion. At the start, these objects assert themselves +as the baldest and solidest of hard facts. The dogmatic and naïve +quality of the original judgment is in exact proportion to its crudeness +and inadequacy. The objects which are the content of these judgments +thus come to be identified with reality _par excellence_; they are +_facts_, however doubtful everything else. They hang on obstinately. +New judgments, instead of being regarded as better definitions of +the actual fact and hence as displacing the prior object, are tacked +on to the old as best they may be. Unless the contradiction is too +flagrant, the new predicates are set side by side with the old as simply +additional information; they do not react into the former qualities. If +the contradiction is too obvious to be overlooked the new predicate +is used, if possible, to constitute another object, independent of the +former. So the savage, having to deal with the apparently incompatible +predicates of light and darkness, makes two objects; two suns, for two +successive days. Once the Ptolemaic conception is well rooted, cycles and +epicycles, almost without end, are superadded, rather than reconstruct +the original object. Here, then, is our starting point: when qualities +arise so incompatible with the object already formed that they cannot be +referred to that object, it is easier to form a new object on their basis +than it is to doubt the correctness of the old, involving as that does +the surrender of the _object_ (the fact, seemingly) and the formation of +another object. + +It is easier, I say, for there is no doubt that the reluctance of the +mind to give up an object once made lies deep in its economies. I shall +have occasion hereafter to point out the teleological character of the +notions of necessity and chance, but I wish here to call attention to the +fact that the forming of a number of distinct objects has its origin in +practical needs of our nature. The analysis and synthesis which is first +made is that of most practical importance; what is abstracted from the +complex net-work of reality is some net outcome, some result which is of +value for life. As Venn says: + + “What the savage mostly wants to do is to produce something + or to avert something, not to account for a thing which has + already happened. What interests him is to know how to kill + somebody, not to know how somebody has been killed.” (P. 62 of + “Empirical Logic.”) + +And again: + + “What not only the savage, but also the practical man mostly + wants, is a _general_ result, say the death of his enemy. It + does not matter whether the symptoms, i. e., the qualifying + circumstances, are those attendant on poison, or a blow from a + club, or on incantation, provided the death is brought about. + But they do desire _certainty_ in respect of this general + result.” (P. 64.) + +Now it is this “general result,” the net outcome for practical purposes, +which is _the_ fact, _the_ object at first. Anything else is useless +subtlety. That the man is dead—that is the fact; anything further is +at most external circumstances which happen to accompany the fact. +That the death is only a bare fraction of a fact; that the attendant +“circumstances” are as much constituent factors of the real fact as +the mere “death” itself (probably more so from the scientific point of +view)—all this is foreign to conception. We pluck the fruit, and that +fruit is the fact. Only when practical experience forces upon us the +recognition that we cannot get the fruit without heeding certain other +“conditions” do we consent to return upon our assumed object, put it +under suspicion and question whether it is really what we took it to be. +It is, we may presume, the savage who in order to get his living, has +to regulate his conduct for long periods, through changes of seasons, +in some continuous mode, who first makes the synthesis of one sun going +through a recurring cycle of changes—the year. + +As time goes on, the series of independent and isolated objects passes +through a gradual change. Just as the recognition of incompatible +qualities has led to setting up of separate things, so the growing +recognition of similar qualities in these disparate objects begins to +pull them together again. Some relation between the two objects is +perceived; it is seen that neither object is just what it is in its +isolation, but owes some of its meaning to the other objects. While in +reality, (as I hope later to point out,) this “relationship” and mutual +dependence means membership in a common whole, contribution to one and +the same activity, a midway stage intervenes before this one fact, +including as parts of itself the hitherto separate objects, comes to +consciousness. The tradition of isolation is too strong to give way at +the first suggestion of community. This passage-way from isolation to +unity, denying the former but not admitting the latter, is necessity or +determinism. The wall of partition between the two separate “objects” +cannot be broken at one attack; they have to be worn away by the +attrition arising from their slow movement into one another. It is the +“necessary” influence which one exerts upon the other that finally rubs +away the separateness and leaves them revealed as elements of one unified +whole. This done, the determining influence has gone too. + +The process may be symbolised as follows: _M_ is the object, the original +synthesis of the elements seen to be of practical importance; _a_, _b_, +_c_, etc., to _h_ are predicates of constantly growing incompatibility. +When the quality _i_ is discovered, it is so manifestly incompatible +with _a_ that all attempt to refer it to the same subject _M_ is +resisted. Two alternatives are now logically open. The subject-matter +_M_, as the synthesis of the qualities _a_-_h_, may be taken up; it may +be asked whether the object is really _M_ with these qualities; whether +it is not rather Σ, having instead of the predicates _a_, _b_, etc., the +qualities ρα, ρβ, with which the new quality _i_ is quite compatible. But +this process goes against the practical grain of our knowledge; it means +not only that we do not know what we thought we knew; it means that we +did not _do_ what we thought we did. Such unsettling of action is hardly +to be borne. It is easier to erect a new object _N_, to which the more +incompatible predicates are referred. Finally, it is discovered that +both _M_ and _N_ have the same predicates _r_ and _s_; that in virtue +of this community of qualities there is a certain like element even in +the qualities previously considered disparate. This mutual attraction +continues until it becomes so marked a feature of the case that there +is no alternative but to suppose that the _r_ and _s_ of one produces +these qualities in the other, and thereby influences all the qualities +of the other. This drawing together continues until we have the one +reconstructed object Σ, with the traits ρα, ρβρ, etc. It is found that +there is one somewhat comprehensive synthesis which includes within +itself the several separate objects so far produced; and it is found that +this inclusion in the larger whole reacts into the meaning of the several +constituting parts—as parts of one whole, they lose traits which they +seemed to possess in their isolation, and gain new traits, because of +their membership in the same whole. + +We have now to consider, more in detail, how the intermediate idea of +necessity grows up and how it gives away upon the discovery of the one +inclusive whole. Let us continue the illustration of the killing. The +“general result,” the death of the hated enemy, is at first the fact; all +else is mere accidental circumstance. Indeed, the other circumstances +at first are hardly that; they do not attract attention, having no +importance. Not only the savage, but also the common-sense man of +to-day, I conceive, would say that any attempt to extend the definition +of the “fact” beyond the mere occurrence of the death is metaphysical +refinement; that the _fact_ is the killing, the death, and that that +“fact” remains quite the same, however it is brought about. What has +been done, in other words, is to abstract part of the real fact, part of +_this_ death, and set up the trait or universal thus abstracted as itself +_fact_, and not only as fact, but as _the_ fact, _par excellence_, with +reference to which all the factors which constitute the reality, the +concrete fact, of _this_ death, are circumstantial and “accidental.”[66] + +A fragment of the whole reality, of the actual fact individualised and +specified with all kind of minute detail, having been thus hypostatised +into an object, the idea of necessity is in fair way to arise. These +deaths in general do not occur. Although the mere death of the man, his +removal from the face of the earth, is the _fact_, none the less all +_actual_ deaths have a certain amount of detail in them. The savage has +to hit his enemy with a club or spear, or perform a magic incantation, +before he can attain that all-important end of getting rid of him. +Moreover, a man with a coat of armor on will not die just the same way +as the man who is defenseless. These circumstances have to be taken into +account. Now, if the “fact” had not been so rigidly identified with +the bare practical outcome, the removal of the hated one, a coherent +interpretation of the need for these further incidents would be open. It +could be admitted that the original death was a highly complex affair, +involving a synthesis of a very large number of different factors; +furthermore, the new cases of murder could be employed to reconstruct +the original analysis-synthesis; to eliminate supposed factors which +were not relevant, and to show the presence of factors at first not +suspected. In other words, the real fact would be under constant process +of definition, of “production.” But the stiff-necked identification of +the fragment, which happened to have practical importance with the real +object, effectually prevents any such reaction and reconstruction. What +is to be done, however, with these conditions of spear, of stone, of +armor, which so obviously have something _to do_ with the real fact, +although, as it would seem, they are not the fact? They are considered +as circumstances, _accidental_, so far as death in general is concerned; +_necessary_, so far as _this_ death is concerned. That is, wanting simply +to get the net result of the removal of my enemy, so that he will no +longer blight the fair face of nature, it is accidental how I do it; +but having, after all, to kill a man of certain characteristics and +surroundings in life, having to choose time and place, etc., it becomes +necessary, _if_ I am to succeed, that I kill him in a certain way, say, +with poison, or a dynamite bomb. Thus we get our concrete, individual +fact again. + +Consider, then, that tortuous path from reality to reality, _via_ +a circuit of unreality, which calls the thought of necessity into +existence. We first mutilate the actual fact by selecting some portion +that appeals to our needs; we falsify, by erecting this fragment into +the whole fact. Having the rest of the fact thus left on our hands for +disposal, when we have no need of the concrete fact we consider it +accidental, merely circumstantial; but we consider it necessary whenever +we have occasion to descend from the outcome which we have abstracted +back to the real fact, in all its individuality. Necessity is a device +by which we both conceal from ourselves the unreal character of what we +have called real, and also get rid of the practical evil consequences of +hypostatising a fragment into an independent whole. + +If the purely teleological character of necessity is not yet evident, +I think the following considerations will serve to bring it out. The +practical value, the fruit from the tree, we pick out and set up for the +entire fact so far as our past action is concerned. But so far as our +_future_ action is concerned, this value is a result _to be_ reached; +it is an end to be attained. Other factors, in reality all the time +bound up in the one concrete fact or individual whole, have now to be +brought in as means to get this end. Although after our desire has been +met they have been eliminated as accidental, as irrelevant, yet when the +experience is again desired their integral membership in the real fact +has to be recognised. This is done under the guise of considering them as +means which are necessary to bring about the end. Thus the idea of the +circumstances as external to the “fact” is retained, while we get all the +practical benefit of their being not external but elements of one and the +same whole. Contingent and necessary are thus the correlative aspects +of one and the same fact; conditions are accidental so far as we have +abstracted a fragment and set it up as the whole; they are necessary the +moment it is required to pass from this abstraction back to the concrete +fact. Both are teleological in character—contingency referring to the +separation of means from end, due to the fact that the end having been +already reached the means have lost their value for us; necessity being +the reference of means to an end _which has still to be got_. Necessary +means _needed_; contingency means no longer required—because already +enjoyed. + +Note that the necessity of the means has reference to an end still to +be attained, and in so far itself hypothetical or contingent, while the +contingent circumstances are no longer needed precisely because they have +resulted in a definite outcome (which, accordingly, is now a fact, and, +in that sense, necessary) and we begin to see how completely necessity +and chance are bound up with each other. + +Their correlation may thus be stated: _If_ we are to reach an end we +_must_ take certain means; while so far as we want an undefined end, +an end in general, conditions which accompany it are mere accidents. +Whichever way the relationship be stated, the underlying truth is that we +are dealing with only partial phases of fact, which, having been unduly +separated from each other through their erection into distinct wholes, +have now to be brought back into their real unity. + +In the first place, then, _if_ I am to reach an end, certain means +_must_ be used. Here the end is obviously postulated; save as it is +begged (presupposed), the necessity of the means has no sense. If, +when starving, I am to live I must steal a dinner, but, having stolen, +the logical but unsympathetic judge may question the relevancy (that +is, the necessity) of my end, and thus cut the ground out from under +the necessity of my means. My end requires _its_ justification, the +establishing of its validity, before the necessity of the means is +anything more than hypothetical. The proximate end must be referred to a +more ultimate and inclusive end to get any solid ground. Here we have our +choice: we may deny the existence of any organic whole in life and keep +chasing in a never-ending series, the _progressus ad infinitum_, after +an end valid in itself. In this case we never get beyond a hypothetical +necessity—something is necessary _if_ we are to have something else, +the necessity being relative to the implied doubt. Or, being convinced +that life is a whole and not a series merely, we may say there is one +comprehensive end which gives its own validity to the lesser ends in +so far as they constitute it. While, on the other alternative, we +reach only a hypothetical necessity, on this we reach none at all. The +comprehensive end is no end at all in the sense of something by itself +to be reached by means external to it. Any such end would be simply one +in the infinite series and would be itself hypothetical. Whenever minor +ends cease to be in turn means to further ends it is because they have +become parts, constituent elements, of the higher end and thus ceased to +be steps towards an end and beyond and outside of themselves. Given a +final (i. e., inclusive) end, eating and drinking, study and gossip, play +and business, cease to be means _towards_ an end and become its concrete +definition, its analytic content. The minor activities state the supreme +activity in its specific factors. + +Our dilemma is the choice between an end which itself has no existence +save upon presupposition of another end, (is contingent,) and an end +which as an end in itself simply _is_. + +The externality of means to end is merely a symptom of lack of +specification or concreteness in the end itself. _If_ I am going to +invent some improvement in a type-writer, the necessity of going through +certain preliminary steps is exactly proportionate to the indefiniteness +of my conception of what the improvement is to be; when the end is +realised, the operations which enter into the realisation cease to be +means necessary to an end and become the specific _content_ of that end. +The improvement is a _fact_, having such and such elements defining it. +If I simply want, in general, to get my mail I _must_ take this path +(there being but one road); but if my end is not thus general, if it is +individualised with concrete filling, the walk to the office may become +a part of the end, a part of the actual fact. In so far, of course, it +loses all aspect of necessitation. It simply _is_. And in general, so +far as my end is vague, or abstract, so far as it is not specified as +to its details, so far the filling up of its empty schema to give it +particularity (and thus make it fact) appears as a means necessary to +reach an end outside itself. The growth in concreteness of the end itself +is transformed into ways of effecting an end already presupposed. Or, to +state it in yet one other way, determination in the sense of definition +in consciousness is hypostatised into determination in the sense of a +physical making. + +The point may come out more clearly if we consider it with the emphasis +on chance instead of upon necessity. The usual statement that chance is +relative to ignorance seems to me to convey the truth though not in the +sense generally intended—viz., that if we knew more about the occurrence +we should see it necessitated by its conditions. Chance is relative to +ignorance in the sense rather that it refers to an indefiniteness in +our conception of what we are doing. In our consciousness of our end +(our acts) we are always making impossible abstractions; we break off +certain phases of the act which are of chief interest to us, without +any regard to whether the concrete conditions of action—that is, the +deed in its whole definition—permits any such division. Then, when in +our actual doing the circumstances to which we have not attended thrust +themselves into consciousness—when, that is to say, the act appears in +more of its own specific nature—we dispose of those events, foreign to +our conscious purpose, as accidental; we did not want them or intend +them—what more proof of their accidental character is needed? The falling +of a stone upon a man’s head as he walks under a window is “chance,” +for it has nothing to do with what the man proposed to do, it is no +part of his conception of that walk. To an enemy who takes that means +of killing him, it is anything but an accident, being involved in +_his_ conscious purpose. It is “chance” when we throw a two and a six; +for the concreteness of the act falls outside of the content of our +intention. We intended _a_ throw, some throw, and in so far the result +is not accidental, but this special result, being irrelevant to our +conception of what we were to do, in so far is contingent. The vagueness +or lack of determinateness in our end, the irrelevancy of actual end to +conscious intent, chance, are all names for the same thing. And if I +am asked whether a gambler who has a hundred dollars upon the outcome +does not _intend_ to throw double sixes, I reply that he has no such +intention—unless the dice are loaded. He may _hope_ to make that throw, +but he cannot intend it save as he can define that act—tell how to do it, +tell, that is, just _what_ the act is. Or, once more, if I intend to get +my mail and there are four paths open to me it is chance which I take, +just in proportion to the abstractness of my end. If I have not defined +it beyond the mere “general result” of getting mail, anything else is +extraneous and in so far contingent. If the end is individualised to the +extent, say, of getting the mail in the shortest possible time, or with +the maximum of pleasant surroundings, or with the maximum of healthy +exercise, the indifferency of the “means,” and with it their contingency, +disappears. This or that path is no longer a mere means which _may_ be +taken to get a result foreign to its own value; the path is an intrinsic +part of the end. + +In so far as a man presents to himself an end in general, he sets up an +abstraction so far lacking in detail as (taken _per se_) to exclude the +possibility of realisation. In order to exist as concrete or individual +(and of course, nothing can exist except as individual or concrete) +it must be defined or particularised. But so far as consciousness is +concerned the original vague end is _the_ reality; it is all that the man +cares about and hence constitutes his act. The further particularisation +of the end, therefore, instead of appearing as what it really is, viz., +the discovery of the actual reality, presents itself as something +outside that end. This externality to the end previously realised in +consciousness is, taken as mere externality, contingency, or accident; +taken as none the less so bound up with the desired end that it must +be gone through before reaching that end, it is necessary. Chance, in +other words, stands for the irrelevancy as the matter at first presents +itself to consciousness; necessity is the required, but partial, negation +of this irrelevancy. Let it be complete, instead of partial, and we +have the one real activity defined throughout. With reference to this +reality, conditions are neither accidental nor necessary, but simply +constituting elements—they neither may be nor must be, but just are. What +is irrelevant is now not simply indifferent; it is excluded, eliminated. +What is relevant is no longer something required in order to get a result +beyond itself; it is incorporated into the result, it is integral. + +It now remains to connect the two parts of our discussion, the logical +and the practical consideration of necessity, and show that, as +suggested, logical necessity rests upon teleological—that, indeed, it +is the teleological read backwards. The logical process of discovering +and stating the reality of some event simply reverses the process which +the mind goes through in setting up and realising an end. Instead of the +killing of an enemy as something to be accomplished, we have the fact of +a murder to be accounted for. Just as on the practical side, the end, as +it first arises in consciousness, is an end in general and thus contrasts +with the concrete end which is individualised; so the fact, as at first +realised in consciousness, is a _bare_ fact, and thus contrasts with the +actual event with its complete particularisation. The actual fact, the +murder as it really took place, is one thing; the fact as it stands in +consciousness, the phases of the actual event which are picked out and +put together, is another thing. The fact of knowledge, it is safe to +say, is no _fact_ at all; that is, if there had been in reality no more +particularisation, no more of detail, than there is consciousness, the +murder would never have happened. But just as, practically, we take the +end in general to be the real thing, (since it is the only thing of any +direct interest,) so in knowledge we take the bare fact as abstracted +from the actual whole, as _the_ fact. Just as the end of the savage is +merely to kill his enemy, so the “fact” is merely the dead body with +the weapon sticking in it. The fact, as it stands in consciousness, is +indeterminate and partial, but, since it is in consciousness by itself, +it is taken as a whole and as the certain thing. But as the abstractness +of the “end in general” is confessed in the fact that means are required +in order to make it real—to give it existence—so the unreal character of +the “fact” is revealed in the statement that the causes which produced +it are unknown and have to be discovered. The bare fact thus becomes +a result to be accounted for: in this conception the two sides are +combined; the “fact” is at once given a certain reality of its own while +at the same time the lack of concreteness is recognised in the reference +to external causes. + +The gradual introduction of further factors, under the guise of causes +accounting for the effect, defines the original vague “fact,” until, +at last, when it is accounted for, we have before us the one and only +concrete reality. This done, we no longer have an effect to be accounted +for, and causes which produce it, but one fact whose statement or +description is such and such. But intermediate between the isolation and +the integration is the stage when necessity appears. We have advanced, +we will suppose, from the bare fact of the murder to the discovery of a +large amount of “circumstantial” evidence regarding that fact. We hear of +a man who had a quarrel with the deceased; he cannot account for himself +at the time when the murder _must_ have been committed; he is found +to have had a weapon like that with which the murder _must_ have been +committed. Finally we conclude he _must_ have been the murderer. What +do these “musts” (the “must” of the time, weapon, and murderer) mean? +Are they not obviously the gradual filling-in of the previously empty +judgment, through bringing things at first unconnected into relation +with each other? The existence of the man M. N. is wholly isolated from +the “fact” of the murder till it is learned that he had a grudge against +the murdered man; this third fact, also distinct _per se_, brought +into connection with the others (the “fact” of the murder and of the +existence of M. N.) compels them to move together; the result is at +first the possibility, later, as the points of connection get more and +more marked and numerous, the “necessity,” that M. N. is the murderer. +Further, it is clear that this “must” marks not a greater certainty or +actuality than a mere “is” would indicate, but rather a doubt, a surmise +or guess gradually gaining in certainty. When the fact is really made +out to our satisfaction, we drop the “must” and fall back on the simple +_is_. Only so long as there is room for doubt, and thus for argument +do we state that the time and weapon must have been such and such. So +when we finally conclude that the murderer must have been M. N., it +means that we have woven a large number of facts, previously discrete, +into such a state of inter-relationship that we do not see how to avoid +denying their discreteness and incorporating them all into one concrete +whole, or individual fact. That we still say “must” shows, however, that +we have not quite succeeded in overcoming the partial and indefinite +character of the original “fact.” Had we succeeded in getting the whole +fact before us the judgment would take this form: The murder _is_ a fact +of such and such definite nature, having as its content such and such +precise elements. In this comprehensive whole all distinction of effect +to be accounted for and causes which produce clean disappears. The idea +of necessity, in a word, comes in only while we are still engaged in +correcting our original error, but have not surrendered it root and +branch; this error being that the fragment of reality which we grasp is +concrete enough to warrant the appellation “fact.” + +A great deal of attention has been directed to the category of cause +and effect. One striking feature of the ordinary consideration is, that +it takes for granted the matter most needing investigation and aims the +inquiry at the dependent member of the firm. The effect seems to be so +clearly _there_, while the cause is so obviously something to be searched +for that the category of effect is assumed, and it is supposed that only +the idea of causation is in need of examination. And yet this abstraction +of certain phases of fact, the erection of the parts thus abstracted into +distinct entities, which, though distinct, are still dependent in their +mode of existence, is precisely the point needing examination. It is but +another instance of the supreme importance of our practical interests. +The effect is the end, the practical outcome, which interests us; the +search for causes is but the search for the means which would produce +the result. We call it “means and end” when we set up a result to be +reached in the future and set ourselves upon finding the causes which +put the desired end in our hands; we call it “cause and effect” when +the “result” is given, and the search for means is a regressive one. In +either case the separation of one side from the other, of cause from +effect, of means from end, has the same origin: a partial and vague idea +of the whole fact, together with the habit of taking this part (because +of its superior practical importance) for a whole, for a fact. + +I hope now to have made good my original thesis: that the idea of +necessity marks a certain stage in the development of judgment; that +it refers to a residuum, in our judgments and thus in our objects, +of indeterminateness or vagueness, which it replaces without wholly +negating; that it is thus relative to “chance” or contingency; that its +value consists wholly in the impulse given judgment towards the _is_, or +the concrete reality defined throughout. The analysis has been long; the +reader may have found it not only tedious, but seemingly superfluous, +since, as he may be saying to himself, no one nowadays regards necessity +as anything but a name for fixed uniformities in nature, and of this view +of the case nothing has been said. I hope, however, that when we come +to a consideration of necessity as equivalent to uniformity, it will be +found that the course of this discussion has not been irrelevant, but the +sure basis for going further. + + JOHN DEWEY. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[65] This article, as the title may indicate, was suggested by Mr. +Peirce’s article upon “The Doctrine of Necessity Examined.” As, however, +my thought takes finally a different turn, I have deemed it better to let +it run its own course from the start, and so have not referred, except +indirectly, to Mr. Peirce’s argument. I hope this will not be taken as a +desire to slur over my indebtedness to him. + +[66] The reason of this abstraction is in practical nature, as already +indicated. For all the savage _cares_ about it, the death in general, +_is_ the real fact. It is all that interests him. It is hardly worth +while to attempt to persuade the savage; indeed, if he were not only a +savage, but also a philosopher, he might boldly challenge the objector +to present _any_ definition of object which should not refer objectivity +to man’s practical activity; although he might, as a shrewd savage, +admit that some one activity (or self) to which the object is referred +has more content than another. In this case, I, for one, should not care +about entering the lists against the savage. But when the common-sense +philosopher, who resists all attempts to reconstruct the original object +on the ground that a fact is a fact and all beyond that is metaphysics, +is also a case-hardened nominalist (as he generally is), it is time to +protest. It might be true that the real object is always relative to the +value of some action; but to erect this pure universal into the object, +and then pride one’s self on enlightenment in rejecting the “scholastic +figment” of the reality of universals is a little too much. + + + + +THE ISSUES OF “SYNECHISM.” + + +In a late number of _The Monist_, (Vol. II, No. 4,) there appears a +singularly acute and profound article, from the pen of one of the ablest +of American logicians and mathematicians, Mr. Charles S. Peirce. Its +subject is “The Law of Mind”—the idea of continuity. The writer tells +us, (p. 534,) “the tendency to regard continuity, in the sense in which +I shall define it, as an idea of prime importance in philosophy, may +conveniently be termed _Synechism_.” With this _synechistic_ philosophy, +as applied to mind, the paper is occupied, to the exclusion, for the +nonce, of Mr. Peirce’s companion doctrine of _Tychism_,[67] which was +dealt with, by him, in the January, 1891, and April, 1892, issues of _The +Monist_. These conceptions are, both of them, to be viewed as essential +to philosophy as a whole, but the latter is; for the present, allowed +to drop out of sight, in order to allow of the due elaboration of the +former.[68] + + +THE FORMULA OF SYNECHISM. + +The formula of Synechism, with which the article begins, is as follows: + + “Logical analysis applied to mental phenomena shows that there + is but one law of mind, namely, that ideas tend to spread + continuously, and to affect certain others which stand to them + in a peculiar relation of affectibility. In this spreading they + lose intensity, and especially the power of affecting others, + but gain generality, and become welded with other ideas.” (Vol. + II, No. 4, p. 534.) + +The individuality and continuity of ideas are, then, shown respectively +to involve no contradiction; an idea once past—in the sense of an +event in an individual consciousness—is not wholly past, it is only +going—“infinitesimally past, less past than any assignable past date.” +Thus the conclusion is reached that “the present is connected with the +past by a series of real, infinitesimal steps.” Again, “We are forced to +say that we are immediately conscious through an infinitesimal interval +of time. This is all that is requisite.” (_Ibid._, pp. 535-536.) + +All that it is necessary to say at the outset is, that this view is +supported by an elaborate inquiry into the nature of infinity and +continuity in general, into which, for the purpose of the present paper, +it is not needful to enter. And this for two reasons: (1) The synechistic +philosophy, by itself, does not profess to be monistic. Its expounder +does not, even if his Tychism were not in reserve, profess to carry it +beyond the realm of mind, with all that is implied in such a reservation. +Now, it is the bearing of Mr. Peirce’s Synechism upon a monistic solution +of the universe with which the present article is concerned. And (2) +Mr. Peirce’s method of treatment, though precise and logical in the +direction of its own path, is too purely technical to be summarised for +the general reader’s benefit. But withal, Synechism is far too fertile, +not so much in respect of what it makes clear, as suggestively, and, if +the expression may be allowed, _obliquely_, to be passed over without +comment. Its excogitator is eminently frank; he does not conceal the +difficulties which, ever and anon, occur in his statement. Sometimes +his theory seems a trifle too wide for the facts encountered, sometimes +rather too scanty to contain them. Such phrases as the following: “No, I +think we can only hold”—p. 552; “we are driven to perceive”—p. 555; “this +obliges me to say”—p. 557; “the principle with which I set out requires +me to maintain”—p. 558; “the only answer that I can, at present, make +is”—p. 559, etc., etc., do every credit to the writer’s candor, but they +would scarcely occur in an exposition, which, in the mind of its author, +made the rough places altogether plain. Synechism, even with Tychism in +the background, probably does not, in Mr. Peirce’s own mind, completely +solve the world-riddle, at least, as yet. Still these very pauses +themselves, on the part of a thinker of such ability, are eminently +suggestive. To use his own words: “the present paper is intended to show +what Synechism is, and what it leads to.” Let us emphasise this latter +clause, as likely to be more fruitful than the former. + + +MR. PEIRCE’S POSITIVISM. + +Mr. Peirce, in spite of his theory of chance, is, in his Synechism, +almost severely a positivist;[69] but his positivism, like most of that +current nowadays, does not go deep enough. He is positivist, _after_ he +has got externality—fertile in excitations—comfortably disposed around +his subject; and vibrations, undulations, attractions, etc., ready to +play upon the thousand-stringed harp, _but not before_. For, “we must not +tax introspection,” he tells us, p. 548, “to make a phenomenon manifest, +which essentially involves externality,” when the real problem at issue +is: Is there externality, in the vulgar sense, at all, or is it only that +_rationalised externality_ which _circumspection_, within the limits +of egoity, reveals? Now, upon this a good deal hinges. At all events +the difference in question, or, rather, that there _is_ a difference, +has been mooted, to say the least. And, this being the case, it is a +little tedious, when the really vital point of the spatial extension of +feelings is being debated, to have this illustration brought in, (p. +548,): “Moreover, our own feelings are focused in attention to such a +degree, that we are not aware that ideas are not brought to an absolute +unity. Just as nobody, not instructed by special experiment, has any idea +how very, very little of the field of vision is distinct.” Why, that is +reasoning in a circle, if some systems are true; and it is a begging of +the question, if they are the reverse. + +If the system of so-called objective reality were, at sight, wholly +veracious, if everything existed just as it seems, this positivism of +Mr. Peirce’s might be workable. Then no one would seek to go beneath +the process of the apparent, the actually visible, for a _rationale_. +But modern science teaches, in its very primer, that many things are, +and act, quite otherwise than as they seem to be, and do. Appearances +_rationalised_ are alone to be accepted. The sun does not “rise” +and “set,” as it seems to do. The earth is not, as it appears to be, +an immovable plane, and so on. And, this once allowed, where is the +principle to end? If the superficial judgment may be thus corrected, +or reversed, it is liable to revision or reversal _ad infinitum_, +unless reason be shown to the contrary. It may thus be disputed whether +our author is quite in order in writing, as he does, and using the +statement to support his theory—“Precisely how primary sensations, as +colors and tones, are excited, we cannot tell, in the present state of +psychology.... As far as sight and hearing are in question, we know that +they are only excited by vibrations of inconceivable complexity; and the +chemical senses are probably not more simple.” (P. 557.) + +To argue, we cannot tell precisely _how_ they are excited, but we know +that they _are_ excited, is somewhat feminine; seeing that the said +“excitement” is not patent on the surface of ordinary perception. And, +this being the case, the excitement, or its mode rather, not being given +immediately, but only mentally annexed, Mr. Peirce is not consistently +positivist. It is equally open to an opponent to “annex” something else +of his own to the “given” thing, or altogether to deny the necessity of +anything whatever being thus annexed. In any case that (if anything) +which is sought to be annexed must stand the test of positivism; we must +know _if_ such a thing is, and _what_ it is precisely. And this is just +what Mr. Peirce cannot do for us. He cannot tell us exactly what the +“excitant” of feelings _is_; he can only guess what it is “_something +like_,” viz.: the feelings themselves. Hence the following: + + “The principle with which I set out [that of continuity] + requires me to maintain that these feelings are communicated to + the nerves by continuity, _so that there must be something like + them in the excitants themselves_. If this seems extravagant, + it is to be remembered that it is the sole possible way of + reaching any explanation of sensation, which otherwise must be + pronounced a general fact absolutely inexplicable and ultimate. + Now absolute inexplicability is a hypothesis which sound logic + refuses, under any circumstances, to justify.” (P. 558.—The + italics are not in the original.) + +There must be something like the feelings in the excitants of the +feelings. Now, this point is worthy of the closest attention. Note that +“the excitant” _alone_ is mentioned. _Vibrations_ excite sight and +hearing. Yet, from what follows, it is plain that Synechism is not +inconsistent with belief in a fixed objective. “Even the least psychical +of peripheral sensations, that of pressure, has, in its excitation, +conditions which, though apparently simple, are seen to be complicated +enough when we consider _the molecules and their attractions_,” pp. +557-558. Can there, then, be any doubt that we have here three distinct +things: (1) a subjective, (2) an “excitant,” and (3) an objective; the +middle term being a vehicle of communication between the first and third? +It does not affect this presentation of Mr. Peirce’s position that, +at an earlier stage of his argument, he speaks of matter—synonymous, +presumably, with the objective—as being “not completely dead, but merely +mind, hide-bound with habits,” as “partially deadened” or “effete,” +mind; or that the editor of _The Monist_ says that, with Mr. Peirce, +“mind is the beginning of all.” (_The Monist_, Vol. III, No. 1, p. +95.) The question, at present, is not regarding origins, but regarding +co-existences. So that there is a distinct _hiatus_ here, arising from +the confusion of the stimulant, or excitant, of sensation with the +objective itself.[70] Now, the stimulant of sensation is never the object +perceived. Hence, once an objective is admitted, a trinity of entities is +unavoidable, since still less can the “stimulant” be the subject. This +special difficulty, in the present writer’s opinion, is inseparable from +dualism in every form. How it besets Mr. Peirce’s theory is evident from +his hazarded suggestion: “There must be _something like_ the feelings +in the excitants.” He thus uses only two of his cosmical terms, and +gives the third the go-by! All dualism halts, but surely there is here a +palpable stumble. + +In a recent article in _The Open Court_[71] I have pointed out the +vanity of introducing a vehicle of communication between object and +subject, especially emphasising the fact that, once this intermediate +term is brought in, the veritable objective disappears. “Once you bring +in vibrations,” I remarked, “you practically provide a _second_ object, +which is really a part of the subject, and, in order to do this, you +have taken from the original objective all that composed it.”[72] (_The +Open Court_, p. 3361.) + +Is it any wonder, then, that Mr. Peirce should suppose the excitants +to be “something like” the excited feelings? Since he, practically, +surrenders the objective, what could more closely resemble the subjective +than the subjective itself? If he had adopted the position of Hume, +and made impressions and ideas all-in-all, his principle of continuity +might hold. But this he does not do, since (1) he implicitly admits the +objective element, and (2) even if he did not do this, there must be +something other than the idea or feeling in his system, since, otherwise, +there could be no ground for the charge of seeming “extravagance,” which, +he admits, may be leveled against, at least one of, his conclusions. + + +FEELINGS SPATIALLY EXTENDED. + +This leads us to Mr. Peirce’s conclusions regarding subjective spatial +extension—the spatial extension of feelings—as the result of observation +of irritated protoplasm. Our attention is directed to an excited mass of +protoplasm,—an amœba, or a slime-mould,—which “does not differ in any +radical way from the contents of a nerve-cell, though its functions may +be less specialised.” (P. 547.) The irritation is induced when, say, the +amœba is “quiescent and rigid,” and we note its behaviour under it. That +feeling passes from one part of this amorphous continuum of protoplasm to +another, we are led to believe. And this conclusion follows: “Whatever +there is in the whole phenomenon to make us think there is feeling in +such a mass of protoplasm,—_feeling_, but plainly no _personality_,—goes +logically to show that that feeling has a subjective, or substantial, +spatial extension, as the excited state has.” This is a chain of +reasoning. Let us examine its links. We have: + +(1) The behaviour of the amœba under immediate, mechanical irritation—the +spread, or spatial extension, of the state of irritation. + +(2) We are asked to identify this spread-out irritation, this field of +excitation, with “feeling” on the part of the amœba, because there is “no +doubt that it feels when it is excited.” + +(3) From the spatial extension of the irritation, thus identified with +feeling, we are asked to conclude that the feeling, in the amœba, has a +subjective, spatial extension as the excited state has, and, finally, +passing from the feeling of the amœba to our own feelings, by inference, +we are asked to admit: + +(4) Not that we have necessarily a feeling of bigness, but that “the +feeling [inferentially arrived at from the spread-out irritation on the +part of the amœba] as a subject of inhesion is big.” (P. 548.) + +After this, we are disposed to agree with Mr. Peirce when he says: “This +is, no doubt, a difficult idea to seize”; not, as he goes on to say, “for +the reason that it is a subjective, not an objective, extension,” but on +the ground that the reasoning involves, plainly, not only the subjective +and objective, but what Clifford calls the “ejective,” as well, and this +assumption, _inter alia_, that the last-named lies on the same plane as +the former. Never, surely, was the conclusion that feelings have spatial +extension more easily reached. It is only when we find that in (1) we +are dealing with the objective pure and simple, observed phenomena; that +in (2) the connection between irritation or excitation, and feeling +is assumed, in the object, because feeling, subjectively, is found to +accompany irritation; that (3) as the irritation, in the amœba, is spread +out, so is the feeling to be viewed; and (4) that, as the feeling of the +amœba, so is our feeling to be considered, viz.: that the feeling, “as +a subject of inhesion, is big,” we are led to say after all this, that, +by such a process, anything, or everything, could be demonstrated,—the +_field_ of spatial extension, for example, having no more claim to be +assumed than the _point_ at which the irritation admittedly begins. Why +should the _middle_ stage of the irritation be selected in preference to +the _initial_ and _final_ ones? The irritation originates in a point, +spreads, and then dies out. Thus our feeling, (we purposely use Mr. +Peirce’s nomenclature,) or idea, of an elephant, is unquestionably, +as a subject of inhesion, “big.” _But only for a time, and not at +first._ Really, our idea, or feeling—in Synechism—of an elephant, must +logically commence as a minute speck, and return to this vanishing-point +again. There is no other way out of it. For must not the analogy of the +irritated amœba be followed throughout, and if not, why not? + + +DUALISM AND THE WAY OUT. + +The _crux_ of philosophy, from the time of Hume to the present day, has +been, what may be summarised as, the consciousness of succession _as_ +succession. The hours pass over the mental dial, but, though one succeeds +the other, something is needed besides the succession of the terms of the +series to give consciousness of the series _as a series_, to give the +synthesis of the day made up of hours. Hume virtually gave up the problem +in eviscerating the subjective. Prof. T. H. Green only missed the point +at issue when he placed his eternal consciousness, which was to “have +and to hold” the terms of the cosmical series, as it were in solution, +for the human organism, _out of time altogether_. Mr. Peirce puts the +matter boldly when he says: “An idea once past is gone forever, [in the +sense of an event in an individual consciousness,] and any supposed +recurrence of it is another idea.” (P. 534.) In order, then, that an +idea past may be present really, and not vicariously, the notion that +consciousness necessarily occupies an interval of (finite) time must be +given up; since, to put it briefly, a second past is as much past as a +year. According to Mr. Peirce then, and his contention is supported by an +elaborate inquiry into the nature of infinity and continuity generally, +“we are immediately conscious through an infinitesimal interval of time.” +For the complete _rationale_, reference must necessarily be made to the +article itself. + +Even the above outline, however, is sufficient to show that, here as +elsewhere, Mr. Peirce’s dualism is his snare. Nothing but this could lead +to a disintegration so complete as the following: + + “In this infinitesimal interval, not only is consciousness + continuous in a subjective sense, that is, considered as a + subject, or substance, having the attribute of duration; but + also, because it is immediate consciousness, its object is + _ipso facto_ continuous.” (P. 536.) + +This is to admit, practically, that there is something in consciousness +other than the consciousness itself. And this is evident, because at +one and the same time, (whether an interval of finite time, or an +infinitesimal interval,—whether an “instant” or a “moment,”—does not +matter,) these two entities are different. For: + + “This mediate perception is objectively, or as to the object + represented, spread over the four instants; but subjectively, + or as itself the subject of duration, it is completely embraced + in the second moment.” (_Ibid._) + +But this “mediate” and “immediate” cannot simultaneously exist, unless +there is something else _to which_ they do so exist. It is only paltering +with us in a double sense to speak of “instant” and “moment” in this +connection. The one may pass into the other, but there is “a time when” +(it matters not whether the interval be finite or infinitesimal) they do +not coexist. Hence, they are not the same, but different. + +According to Mr. Peirce’s notation, for all ordinary purposes we may +write, if _a_ is a finite quantity, and _i_ an infinitesimal, _a_ + _i_ += _a_. “That is to say, this is so for all purposes of measurement.” Be +it so; the infinitesimal may be neglected for purposes of calculation. +But such a formula can only be experimental. The theory which embodies +it cannot avail for a world-scheme; to admit it would be to grant that +a thing is, and is not, at one and the same time. Surely the most +superficial reader will see that, to put it popularly, a world-scheme +admits of no alternative subject to accept, or to reject, a neglectable +quantity. + +And this is not the only instance of dualism in Mr. Peirce’s world-scheme +as a totality. For have we not Synechism and Tychism as well? With the +latter Mr. Peirce does not deal in the paper now under consideration. He +must, however, be credited, or debited, with it, as held in reserve. For +our present purpose it is not necessary to examine Tychism in detail. Its +alleged existence is sufficient. For, and here let the significance of +what follows be noted, in Mr. Peirce’s view, as opposed to determinism, +Tychism exists as a principle. It _is_, otherwise it could not be +expounded as operative. But it also exists as an idea, first, it may be, +in our author’s mind, and subsequently in the minds of his disciples. +Thus it falls into the synechistic province: “As an idea it can only be +affected by an idea, by anything but an idea it cannot be affected at +all.” (“The Law of Mind,” p. 557.) Yet to affirm Tychism thus impotent, +because unaffectible, outside the synechistic sphere, is to contradict +Mr. Peirce’s conclusions, for if Tychism is nothing outside the ideal +realm, it is altogether inside it. Hence Synechism is everything +practically, and Tychism nothing. But that Mr. Peirce will not have. He +has a two-fold Tychism, that is the fact; actual and operative on the one +hand, ideal on the other. And this is dualism confessed. + +Mr. Peirce’s method is quite fertile in duplication of the subjective +entity. His latest paper, “Man’s Glassy Essence,” (_The Monist_, Vol. +III, No. 1,) contains some typical instances. + + “Viewing a thing from the outside, considering its relations of + action and reaction with other things, it appears as matter. + Viewing it from the inside, looking at its immediate character + as feeling, it appears as consciousness.” (P. 20.) + +This is the strictly empirical view. And it may be possibly defended +with the contention that all problems, to be duly examined, must, in +the first place, be viewed from that standpoint. But it must be plainly +manifest to any unprejudiced thinker that, even granted a total cosmical +problem made up of separate problems of an individual nature, the same +method of solving the sum cannot be employed which is used in solving +its constituents. In the above instance, considering matter in its +totality, and consciousness in its totality, what is left to view them +indifferently from “outside,” or “inside”? Plainly nothing. Still more +transparent an example is the following: + + “The consciousness of a habit involves a general idea. In + each action of that habit certain atoms get thrown out of + their orbit, and replaced by others. Upon all the different + occasions it is different atoms that are thrown off, but they + are analogous from a physical point of view, and there is an + inward sense of their being analogous. Every time one of the + associated feelings recurs, there is a more or less vague sense + that there are others, that it has a general character, and of + about what this general character is.” (P. 20.) + +This is part of the answer to the query: How do general ideas appear in +the molecular theory of protoplasm? Now, without discussing the value +of this _rationale_, as affecting Mr. Peirce’s own theories, it is not +difficult to see what its acceptance would “lead to.” Certain atoms of +a molecule get thrown out and are replaced by _others_. This happens +repeatedly. On different occasions _different atoms_ come and go. Yet +they are “analogous,” and there is “an inward sense” of this. Upon whose +shoulders is the burden of proving the analogy placed, or of experiencing +it even? With whom or what is there “an inward sense”? Perhaps it is +better not to answer otherwise than to say that if this faculty be +not present in the ever changing molecule to begin with, it cannot be +logically reached by any process of multiplying it. + + +THE MONISTIC SOLUTION. + +Monism, as a unitary system of the universe, does not necessarily commend +itself to acceptance simply _as_ monism. To say, this is dualism, +_therefore_ it cannot be a correct _rationale_ of the universe, since +the only true one must be monistic, is to start with an unphilosophical +prepossession. The true solution may be two-fold, or it may be manifold. +But it is not too much to say, perhaps, on the other hand, that, even as +causes may not be multiplied without necessity, even so phenomena must +not logically be divided into independent groupings without sufficient +reason given. Preference should be accorded to a monistic, rather than +to a dualistic, system, not on the ground alone of the simplicity of +the former, but on the ground that a theory which has one explanation +for one set of phenomena and another explanation for a second set, must +first demonstrate that a unitary conception of the universe is, at +least, improbable, otherwise it will always be hinted that the dualism +in question has not gone deep enough to find a synthetic bond wherewith +to unite the apparently diverse. Mr. Peirce, throughout his article on +Synechism, constantly touches, despite his latent dualism, the margin +of a truth so great as to merit the title of transcendent. As often he +misses it. And his concluding words are, in this connection, almost +wistful: “The facts that stand before our face and eyes and stare us +in the face, are far from being, in all cases, the ones most easily +discerned. That has been remarked from time immemorial.” (P. 559.) But +though thus “remarked,” the maxim has, as immemorially, been neglected +in practice. To none can this remark be more fitly applied than to the +excogitator of Synechism, himself seeing that, having arrived at the +point of asserting that “there must be _something like_ the feelings in +the excitants themselves,” he does not see that the excitant and the +feeling are one and the same; and that there is no second or third term +in the cosmical equation. + +Does this seem “extravagant”? If so, the reply must be _not_ that it is +the only escape from an otherwise inexplicable difficulty, but that there +is really no difficulty at all. What Mr. Peirce’s own Synechism “_leads +to_” is that the past, the present, and the to-come, alike of matter and +idea, are not reconciled by “time and its flow,” or even by the logic +of infinitesimals, subtle though that may be, but that the contents of +each and all, with all their apparently infinite variety, resolve into a +consistent unity. + + +THE “MISSING LINK.” + +Pushed to a logical conclusion, the excitants and the feelings owe +their apparent variety to their assigned position in a series, the +correspondence or relation between them being _only another link in +the self-same chain_. Vulgar realism never fathoms this explanation. +It always harps upon the one string that idealism, and more especially +idealistic monism, fails to account for variety or difference; +forgetting, or rather never seeing, that difference or variety which +is its essence, is only one more added perception on the same plane +with ordinary perceptions; so that given _a_, _b_, _c_, _d_,—sundry +perceptions,—their essential variety may be stated as _e_. Or this may +be stated numerically; variety, as a whole, being nothing more than +the sum of differences, which is always something other than the terms +differentiated, but always on the same level with them—the difference +between any continuous number, above unity, and another number being a +third number, which is different from either. Variety in numbers cannot +be expressed otherwise than numerically. So, in the last recess, the +variety of colors is only colorable, of tones audible, and so on. The +“vibrations of inconceivable complexity” which, according to Mr. Peirce, +“excite sight and hearing,” can be approximately stated numerically, +so that the difference between red and, say, yellow, is a number +corresponding to another color, which may be orange or not; it being +part of the present scientific theory of light that any specific number +of ethereal undulations happening between the colors of the ocular +spectrum, corresponds to a possible color, although the retinal expanse +may be insensible to these particular rates of tremor. To Mr. Peirce it +may appear “extravagant,” but the difference between any two colors and +tones is another color, another tone; just as the difference between any +two numbers is a third number. This is the logical outcome of his own +Synechism; _this_, in part, is what it “leads to.” + + +TIME AND ITS “FLOW” RATIONALISED. + +Excitants and feelings being unified, and the element of variety, +hitherto supposed to be the exclusive copyright of vulgar realism, shown +to be nothing but another term added to the series, or, numerically, a +concurrent series—so that should _a_, _b_, _c_, _d_ ... be a series, +the variety of the series may be expressed as _e_, or the individual +differences as _f_, _g_, _h_ ...—it only needs an examination of what +Mr. Peirce terms “time and its flow,” to render his system a completely +monistic one, and this although true monism is much more than the +negation of determinism, synechistically expressed. + +In Mr. Peirce’s article under examination, “The Law of Mind,” the +notation of infinitesimals, which forms the keystone of Synechism, is +only introduced after a lament over the incapacity, or unworkableness +rather, of finite time, when the duration of consciousness is involved. +If _finite_ time is to come in as a factor—“an idea once past [in the +sense of an event in an individual consciousness] is gone forever, and +any supposed recurrence of it is another idea” (p. 534). And the problem +which Mr. Peirce sets himself to solve is how in effect to bring _back_ +this past idea—not vicariously—but in all its pristine freshness, into +the now-time. This is sought to be accomplished by the explanation that +the past idea is “not wholly past, it is only going, less past than any +assignable past date”—and so on through the intricacies of Mr. Peirce’s +infinitesimal theory, into which we need not enter at present. But the +statement of the, supposed, difficulty which finite time presents in this +connection,—the past idea really past and gone, and the recurrence of it +another idea,—if put in a slightly different form, hints a solution, in +continuity with the foregoing pages, without the aid of the infinitesimal +at all. _That an idea is once past and gone_, any occurrence, or +recurrence, of this idea, _is another idea_.[73] + +But, in the meantime, let us see what Mr. Peirce has to say regarding +“time and its flow”: + + “One of the most marked features about the law of mind is, that + it makes time to have a definite direction of flow from past + to future. The relation of past to future is, in reference + to the law of mind, different from the relation of future to + past. This makes one of the great contrasts between the law + of mind and the law of physical force, where there is no more + distinction between the two opposite directions in time than + between moving northward, and moving southward” (p. 546). + +This for once is not very clear. It is difficult to see how “the law of +physical force” can be spoken of as “in time,” to the exclusion of mind; +not easy, also, to understand the distinction further insisted upon. But +the intention is evident, viz., to perpetuate, if not to originate, a +cosmical duality. Time, it would seem, marches indifferently in at least +two directions, though it is not very clear how this is accomplished. +And then the old fiction follows, that “Time, as the universal form of +change, cannot exist unless there is something to undergo change, etc.” +(p. 547.) + +The same notation suits in this case as in the foregoing. Time is only +another term in the series. If _a_, _b_, _c_, _d_ be a series, _e_ +is the variety, _f_ the whole time involved, and _g_ the individual +intervals. Of course all this is not a simple series, it is an infinitely +complicated one; the above arrangement is only intended to show that +difference, variety, time, etc., are no mysterious entities pervading +events, acting as their “form” or carrying them in their “flow,” but +simply percepts, or concepts, on a level with others. + +This is not patent on the surface, it may be. Time has the appearance +of a current in which events float. But this is an illusion dispelled +by examination. Events cannot be submerged in time. Time cannot be +the vehicle of events. It is impossible to conceive time as existing +simultaneously with an event. It always follows it. What to Mr. Peirce +appears as a “flow,” arises from the foregoing. Take events, percepts, +or concepts, as a hypothetical series, _a_, _b_, _c_, _d_ ... and their +times as _a´_, _b´_, _c´_, _d´_ ... the first series contains the event +_per se_, or as happening; the “time when” is contained in the second +series, practically inseparable from the first, but the time when +necessarily follows—consequently if the first be _a_, the second must +be, at least _a_. But no concept or percept is abstract, except the +concept time itself, which, being unconnected, _seems_ anywhere, and, +like its fellow-abstract space, is spread out, to us, tri-dimensionally, +as past, present, and to come. And, as in space the position is simply +spectral,[74] a question of perspective or adjustment, so, in time, the +timal series is adjusted to the substantive idea. But this two-fold +spectral succession breeds by comparative intensity (which is another +complex series) the sense of a flow, where there is none, but only the +idea of a flowing, which is another matter. Thus, the so-called “veil +of the future” is no more a veil than it is a brickbat. It is simply +the indeterminateness of an unconnected adjective—as if one should say, +white—and the query arises, _What_ is it that is white? When the noun is +supplied you have something definite. Just so, when the future lapses +into the present. + +Thus there is never anything without, at least, these three additions: +first, variety or difference; second, time; third, relation, spatial +or otherwise. These are all terms in a series, or set of concurrent +series. Nothing can be, practically, isolated, for everything runs in a +series. But this is a much broader theory of continuity than that which +Synechism affords.[75] All apparent perplexities vanish. The difficulty +no longer exists that to perceive a series we must hold it, as it were, +in solution. Since other than series nothing is. Hence the cosmos is +an illimitable series or complex of series. But inasmuch as the timal +element (as also the spatial) occurs through the series having time-term +and space-term resident within it, all difficulty in apprehending it as +a series vanishes. The impracticability, if any, would be in viewing any +term as isolated. + + +THE RESULT _RE_ TYCHISM. + +What a flood of light does such a system shed indirectly upon Tychism, +since the controversy between the latter and determinism mainly hinges +upon the “must be,” the imperative, as it were, of the series! It has +been very ably pointed out by Dr. Carus in his article _re_ Mr. Peirce’s +“Onslaught on the Doctrine of Necessity” (_The Monist_, Vol. II, No. +4, pp. 573-4.) that the formula adopted by Mr. Peirce in his Tychism, +“chance is first, law is second, the tendency of habits is third,” +involves its author in the admission of a law in a system professing to +be, in its inception at all events, chanceful and _lawless_. Mr. Peirce’s +“Synechism” professes to be the law of mind. Parenthetically, however, +it may be remarked, that the distinction as to law, and lawlessness or +“chance,” narrows itself to the plane of one term more or less in a +series, or _even to less than that subordinate place_. For, although, +for convenience sake, and for facility of contrast, we have followed +Mr. Peirce’s figure of a series, to show more clearly also to what his +theory leads, it is nevertheless plain, that time and its accompanying +relations being placed on their proper level, that of integral percepts +and concepts, the figure of a series is simply a matter of convenience +of arrangement. Certainly as the “time when” is necessarily annexed to +every percept and concept the timal element may be said to follow, not +to precede, its fellow-term. Really, however, they may be said to be +simultaneous, since the timal refinements of finite, infinite, past, +present, and future are each of them contained in a percept of its own. + + +EXTERNALITY A SERIAL TERM. + +But if the timal element be independent as a separate percept, the +spatial as another, and so on, it follows that, although the terms of the +series may, as it were, _run_, though we cannot conceive them separated, +or as, in practice, otherwise than as continuous in their flow, still, +theoretically, a series or complex of series it _is_, and a series may +be interrupted at any term. Thus externality itself being a spatial +relation, is but _one term more_, non-essential in theory, to the term +preceding. So that when the Neo-Kantians speak of the “constitution of +the objective” it ought to be added that it is not only the content +of the objective which is thus constituted by consciousness, but that +externality, all that goes to make up what is termed “out-sidedness,” is +constituted by consciousness also. + + +THE NOW-TIME. + +“_The present is half past, and half to come_,” (p. 546) like the color +of a curved boundary line on a particolored surface; i. e. “betwixt +and between” the two. It is here that the theory of Synechism shows +its chief defect. Up to this stage we have been dealing with ideas, +feelings, _a_, _b_, _c_, _d_ ... successively passing through a point +of consciousness _e_. And the infinitesimal notation suits the required +process fairly well. It is complicated enough, but it is ingenious, and +at least plausible. Nothing up to this stage would lead us to suppose +that any additional element was to be imported into the _rationale_ which +Mr. Peirce presents. As we have seen, finite time would not serve his +purpose. By however minute a _finite_ interval have _a_, _b_, _c_ or _d_ +passed the point _e_, all chance of their recovery is hopeless. Well, we +have recourse to infinitesimals, and find (to put it popularly, and not +in Mr. Peirce’s technical terms) that _a_ past the point of consciousness +by an infinitesimal interval heralds _b_. So that _e_ is simultaneously +confronted with the disappearing form of the first and the appearing +form of the second, and the same with _b_, and _c_, in turn, and so on. +Thus the present, in the sense of ideas successively passing through +consciousness, is half _a_ and half _b_, then half _b_ and half _c_, this +infinitesimal gradation ultimately ensuring the presence of the whole +series in the last “moment.” + +But this will not avail with the concept time itself as distinguished +from timed succession. That these two are separate with Mr. Peirce it is +impossible to doubt. He says, e. g., “Time with its continuity logically +involves some other kind of continuity than its own,” (p. 547) and +speaks of “time and its flow,” and of “time as the universal form of +change.” And it is confusing, to say the least, when we are shifted +without warning from what is practically the perceptual to the conceptual +region. Granted the ideas, the feelings, or what not, “gliding almost +imperceptibly” (as did the late Mr. Bardell to another sphere) past the +central point of consciousness, yet not wholly past, only going, less +past than any assignable past date, granted this, the assertion is not +consequently warranted that time itself, the _present_, as time, not +as involving the succession of ideas, is “half past and half to come.” +The ideas, the feelings, of which Mr. Peirce writes, successively pass +through the stage of being thus half past and half to come, but that +is by no means the same thing as saying that the present is half past, +half to come, as Synechism avers. With our theory, as presented in the +foregoing pages there is indeed no such difficulty, but Mr. Peirce, on +the other hand, has elected to stand by infinitesimally measuring time, +as applied to ideas etc., as separate from conceptual time, and must take +the consequences of his decision. He says _the present, not the present +idea_. + +Now, in the concept time as a whole, in its entire range, a definite +point may be selected—to the exclusion of other points—a point having +position but not extension, as _the present_. Is it, then,—the +present,—half past, half to come, as a timed idea is? Certainly not. +There is nothing of the flow of a series in it. Further, this selection +of the “now,” as a point, does not interfere with its permanence. +“Nowness” may persist. And the moment it partook, even infinitesimally, +of the character of the past or of the future, it would cease to be the +present. In the case of a series of ideas in time the difficulty is to +get them all in present solution, as it were, without detriment to their +evident continuity, but the definition of the present as a point in time +presents no such difficulty. The conditions are quite distinct. Yet +regarding this time point—the present—Mr. Peirce assures us that it is +“half past, half to come,” which is just that of which it is the precise +negation, if words are to have any meaning. + +Again, Mr. Peirce’s _rationale_ shows, upon the face of it, that there +is (1) finitely divisible time and, (2) time divided infinitesimally, +for what finite time could not do, in that it had limitations, +the infinitesimal notation readily accomplishes. In its ulterior +consequences, this is somewhat unfortunate for Synechism, inasmuch as the +consciousness of ideas in continuity being confined to the infinitesimal +theory, where, it may be asked, is the place, in consciousness, for +the succession of finite intervals? Consciousness must be practically +doubled, so to speak, if it is to hold both of these together. This +is what comes of making one’s world-scheme hang upon a mathematical +subtlety—the subtlety in question partaking as a rule, more or less of +the nature of an escape from the difficulties of the vulgar notation, the +vulgar notation remains to be reckoned with, and both have to be credited +to consciousness. As an instance of this take the following from Mr. +Peirce’s late article,[76] “Man’s Glassy Essence”—p. 15: + + “In order that a sub-molecule of food may be thoroughly and + firmly assimilated into a broken molecule of protoplasm, + it is necessary not only that it should have precisely the + right chemical composition, but also that it should be at + precisely the right spot _at the right time_ and should be + moving in precisely the right direction with precisely the + right velocity. If all these conditions are not fulfilled, ... + it will be in special danger of being thrown out again” (The + italics are not in the original). + +Now here is a “time when” which can be exactly specified in accordance +with the conditions. Certain results follow unless it is kept to. +This is what Mr. Peirce would doubtless consider as a timed physical +event, part and parcel of the regularity of matter, and yet an event +which, in its own time and way, goes to account for both feeling and +habit-taking—capable, therefore, of being stated in terms of finite +time, as happening at a given instant, and neither before nor after it. +But when this same molecule is, by virtue of keeping its appointment +punctually, safely installed in feeling protoplasm, the succession of +ideas, or feelings, of which, as subject, it is capable, obeys another +rule—a given _instant_ obtains no longer; it is the _moment_ which is +everything[77]—a moment half its predecessor, half its successor. Even +granted the function of the infinitesimal, this looks very much like a +reduction to absurdity. For, if the above mentioned timed coalescence +of the sub-molecule with the broken molecule were _also_ a matter of +subjective feeling, passed as process through a consciousness, the +conclusion follows that the juncture of the molecules happens at two +different times! There is no escape from this. Given the _instant_ in +the one case, the _moment_ in the other, these two cannot possibly be +the same point in time. The moment partakes, however insensibly, of the +preceding and succeeding stages, the instant does not. Hence they are not +the same but different times. + + +OTHERNESS. + +The foregoing has a distinct bearing upon the question of “other selves” +of which Mr. Peirce writes as follows: + + “The recognition by one person of another’s personality takes + place by means to some extent identical with the means by which + he is conscious of his own personality. The idea of the second + personality, which is as much as to say that second personality + itself, enters within the field of direct consciousness of + the first person, and is as immediately perceived as his ego, + though less strongly. At the same time, the opposition between + the two persons is perceived, so that the externality of the + second is recognised.” (“The Law of Mind,” p. 558.) + +This is the scheme of “otherness” which, in the case of the Neo-Kantians, +particularly the French section, represented by M. Pillon, M. Renouvier, +and others, has proved such a snare. To these thinkers, (as indeed to +the late Prof. T. H. Green, of Oxford, though in a less degree,) the +so-called external world lies in “other” thinking subjects—in “foreign +centres of representations.” The free-trade doctrine has verily +penetrated to the philosophic region—the wholesale admission of foreign +wares to the detriment of home products. Why should I place the content +of that so-called external world, which, external or internal, is my +very own inalienably, in a centre of representation other than my own, +thus making my cognition of it rest entirely upon the “ejective” plane? +It is only when I discover, as I must sooner or later, that there is +nothing in the report of an “outsider” (or in any number of them) beyond +what I credit him or her with in my own consciousness; and that the +outsider is on the same plane as other objects, it is only then that +the mystification is cleared up. I do _not_ cognise, or recognise, the +external at second-hand. The “note” of otherness is simply another term +more or less in the cosmical series. + +It is, however, not only with the familiar “other selves” of ordinary +life that we are confronted in Synechism. In the creed of animism + + “Millions of spiritual creatures walk the earth,” + +and Mr. Peirce speaks of “spiritual influences” (p. 559) as having at +least no hindrance presented to them by his doctrine. But he has some +other shadowy personalities at command, which, it must be confessed, are +well calculated to give us pause. “There should be something like[78] +personal consciousness in bodies of men who are in intimate and intensely +sympathetic communion.... None of us can fully realise which the minds +of corporations are.... But the law of mind clearly points to the +existence of such personalities.” It is probably true that the “minds of +corporations,” must ever present an insoluble riddle of perversity to the +suburban dweller, vexed with the mockery of paving and lighting. But we +need not linger over this speculation, for there are other shades behind. + + “If such a fact is capable of being made out anywhere it + should be in the Church.... Surely a personality ought to have + developed in that Church, in that ‘bride of Christ,’ as they + call it.” (“Man’s Glassy Essence,” pp. 21-22.) + + +A PERSONAL CREATOR. + +Bearing our ecclesiastical divisions in mind, it is difficult to conceive +the unity of a “corporate personality” of this kind, but, to let that +pass, it may be remarked that, when any one begins to imagine that there +are others in the universe besides himself, he is not, as a rule, content +with two or three companions of his solitude. They come in battalions. +Thus, behind the other selves, corporate personalities and spiritual +influences of Synechism, there looms a transcendent personality. “A +genuine evolutionary philosophy,” we are told, “... is so far from being +antagonistic to the idea of a personal Creator, that it is really +inseparable from that idea.” And a philosophy of pseudo-evolutionism is +“hostile to all hopes of personal relations to God.” (“The Law of Mind,” +p. 557.) + +Mr. Peirce thus assigns to his first cause a place in the _continuum_ of +ideas, and says that if there is a personal God we must have a direct +perception of that person and “indeed be in personal communication +with him.” The difficulty, he admits, is that if this be so, how is it +possible that the existence of this being should ever have been doubted +by anybody. And the only answer he can at present make is, that “facts +that stand before our face and eyes, and stare us in the face, are +far from being in all cases the ones most easily discerned. That,” he +adds, “has been remarked from time immemorial.” (“The Law of Mind,” pp. +558-559.) + +One of the ablest of living philosophical writers, Professor Veitch, +of Glasgow University, puts it somewhat similarly, though with his own +realistic coloring, when he says: + + “God, if at all, must rise above the line of finite regress; He + cannot be a cause in that; He cannot be a cause dependent on + another cause; He must be somewhere, or at some point, in the + line of an otherwise endless scientific regress, there, above + it, yet related to it, and in it; otherwise He is nothing for + us.” (“Knowing and Being,” p. 320.) + +The parallelism is worth noting. Those views embody what has been the +contention of the present writer throughout this paper, _with this most +notable difference_: that no term of a series may thus transcend the +series, or be other than on a level with the other terms, being itself +only a term, a link, in the series itself. And with this falls forever +the idea of a cause uncaused. + +Yet am _I_ not _in_ the series? For all that is in the series is +mine every percept, every concept; so that, “extravagant” as it may +appear, it is _I who am the series_. In other words, the ego is the +universe-synthesis, and the universe-synthesis the ego. + +Is Mr. Peirce prepared to take the consequences of that which his +Synechism leads to? + + G. M. MCCRIE. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[67] From τύχη, chance. + +[68] _Tychism_ again comes to the front in the succeeding number of _The +Monist_, (Vol. III, No. 1,) in an article by Mr. Peirce, entitled “Man’s +Glassy Essence.” + +[69] Dr. Carus, in his review of Mr. Peirce’s doctrines, (_The Monist_, +Vol. II, No. 4, p. 575,) notes this positivistic-constructionism. + +[70] Cf. T. H. Green, _Prolegomena to Ethics_, Ch. II, p. 63. + +[71] Nos. 258, 59, 61, August, 1892. _Miss Naden’s World-Scheme._ + +[72] In a note to this passage was appended a quotation from a pamphlet +by Dr. E. Cobham Brewer as a practical instance of the objective being, +on the antiquated subject-object plane, actually superseded. Suppose a +very remote star to become extinct, the “vibrations” would continue to +“travel” towards a spectator situated on our planet for years, it may +be for centuries. So that the spectator, ultimately, “sees” that which +does not even exist. Dr. Brewer’s comment, which cannot be considered any +contribution to a satisfactory _rationale_, is: “the objects, however, +must have existed, or no messenger could have been sent from their +courts.” Evidently, in this case, that which is sent is, at least, as +good as the sender—is, in fact, the self-same thing. Only, in that case, +what of the extinct object? + +[73] Or to put it in another form, any one idea, and the timing of this +idea are really two ideas, although, as we shall see later, they may be +inseparable in practice. + +[74] Cf., in this connection, the results of experiments by Cheselden, +as far back as 1727 on congenitally blind persons, couched for double +cataract. + +[75] Much more inclusive, also, than the Relational Theory of the +Neo-Kantians. + +[76] _The Monist_, Vol. III, No. 1. + +[77] Mr. Peirce uses the word “instant” to mean a point of time, and +“moment” to mean an infinitesimal duration. + +[78] The phrase, “something like,” is significant, when we remember, (see +_ante_,) that with Mr. Peirce the excitants were “something like” the +excited feelings. + + + + +THE FOURTH DIMENSION. + +MATHEMATICAL AND SPIRITUALISTIC. + + +INTRODUCTORY. + +The tendency to generalise long ago led mathematicians to extend the +notion of three-dimensional space, which is the space of sensible +representation, and to define aggregates of points, or spaces, of more +than three dimensions, with the view of employing these definitions as +useful means of investigation. They had no idea of requiring people to +imagine four-dimensional things and worlds, and they were even still +less remote from requiring of them to believe in the real existence of +a four-dimensioned space. In the hands of mathematicians this extension +of the notion of space was a mere means devised for the discovery and +expression, by shorter and more convenient ways, of truths applicable to +common geometry and to algebra operating with more than three unknown +quantities. At this stage, however, the spiritualists came in, and coolly +took possession of this private property of the mathematicians. They +were in great perplexity as to where they should put the spirits of the +dead. To give them a place in the world accessible to our senses was not +exactly practicable. They were compelled, therefore, to look around after +some _terra incognita_, which should oppose to the spirit of research +inborn in humanity an insuperable barrier. The residence of the spirits +had to be a place inaccessible to our senses and full of mystery to the +mind. This property the four-dimensioned space of the mathematicians +possessed. With an intellectual perversity which science has no idea of, +these spiritualists boldly asserted, first, that the whole world was so +situated in a four-dimensioned space as a plane might be situated in +the space familiar to us, secondly, that the spirits of the dead lived +in such a four-dimensioned space, thirdly, that these spirits could +accordingly act upon the world and, consequently, upon the human beings +resident in it, exactly as we three-dimensioned creatures can produce +effects upon things that are two-dimensional; for example, such effects +as that produced when we shatter a lamina of ice, and so influence some +possibly existing two-dimensioned _ice_-world. + +Since spiritualism, under the leadership of the Leipsic Professor +Zöllner, thus proclaimed the existence of a four-dimensioned space, this +notion, which the mathematicians are thoroughly master of,—for in all +their operations with it, though they have forsaken the path of actual +representability, they have never left that of the truth,—this notion +has also passed into the heads of lay persons who have used it as a +catchword, ordinarily without having any clear idea of what they or any +one else mean by it. To clear up such ideas and to correct the wrong +impressions of cultured people who have not a technical mathematical +training, is the purpose of the following pages. A similar elucidation +was aimed at in the tracts which Schlegel (Riemann, Berlin, 1888) and +Cranz (Virchow-Holtzendorff’s Sammlung, Nos. 112 and 113) have published +on the so-called fourth dimension. Both treatises possess indubitable +merits, but their methods of presentation are in many respects too +concise to give a lay mind any profound comprehension of the subject. The +author, accordingly, has been able to add to the reflections which these +excellent treatises offer, a great deal that appears to him necessary for +a thorough explanation in the minds of non-mathematicians of the notion +of the fourth dimension. + + +I. + +THE CONCEPT OF DIMENSION. + +Many text-books of stereometry begin with the words: “Every body has +three dimensions, length, breadth, and thickness.” If we should ask the +author of a book of this description to tell us the length, breadth, and +thickness of an apple, of a sponge, or of a cloud of tobacco smoke, he +would be somewhat perplexed and would probably say, that the definition +in question referred to something different. A cubical box, or some +similar structure, whose angles are all right angles and whose bounding +surfaces are consequently all rectangles is the only body of which it can +at all be unmistakably asserted that there are three principal directions +distinguishable in it, of which any one can be called the length, any +other the breadth, and any third the thickness. We thus see that the +notions of length, breadth, and thickness are not sufficiently clear and +universal to enable us to derive from them any idea of what is meant when +it is said that every body possesses three dimensions, or that the space +of the world is three-dimensional. + +This distinction may be made sharper and more evident by the following +considerations: We have, let us suppose, a straight line on which a +point is situated, and the problem is proposed to determine the position +of the point on the line in an unequivocal manner. The simplest way to +solve this is, to state how far the point is removed in the one or the +other direction from some given fixed point; just as in a thermometer +the position of the surface of the mercury is given by a statement of +its distance in the direction of cold or heat from a predetermined fixed +point—the point of freezing water. To state, therefore, the position +of a point on a straight line, the sole datum necessary is a single +number, for beforehand we have fixed upon some standard line, like the +centimetre, and some definite point to which we give the value zero, +and have also previously decided in what direction from the zero-point, +points must be situated whose position is expressed by positive numbers, +and also in what direction those must lie whose position is expressed by +negative numbers. This last mentioned fact, that a _single_ number is +sufficient to determine the place of a point in a straight line, is the +real reason why we attribute to the straight line or to any part of it a +single dimension. + +More generally, we call every totality or system, of infinitely numerous +things, _one_-dimensional, in which _one_ number is all that is requisite +to determine and distinguish any particular one of these things amidst +the entire totality. Thus, time is one-dimensional. We, as inhabitants +of the earth, have naturally chosen as our unit of time, the period of +the rotation of the earth about its axis, namely, the day, or a definite +portion of a day. The zero-point of time is regarded in Christian +countries as the year of the birth of Christ, and the positive direction +of time is the time _subsequent_ to the birth of Christ. These data +fixed, all that is necessary to establish and distinguish any definite +point of time amid the infinite totality of all the points of time, _is +a single number_. Of course this number need not be a whole number, but +may be made up of the sum of a whole number and a fraction in whose +numerator and denominator we may have numbers as great as we please. We +may, therefore, also say that the totality of all conceivable numerical +magnitudes, or of only such as are greater than one definite number and +smaller than some other definite number, is one-dimensional. + +We shall add here a few additional examples of one-dimensioned magnitudes +presented by geometry. First, the circumference of a circle is a +one-dimensional magnitude, as is every curved line, whether it returns +into itself or not. Further, the totality of all equilateral triangles +which stand on the same base is one-dimensional, or the totality of +all circles that can be described through two fixed points. Also, the +totality of all conceivable cubes will be seen to be one-dimensional, +provided they are distinguished, not with respect to position, but with +respect to magnitude. + +In conformity with the fundamental ideas by which we define the notion +of a one-dimensional manifoldness, it will be seen that the attribute +_two_-dimensional must be applied to all totalities of things in +which _two_ numbers are necessary (and sufficient) to distinguish +any determinate individual thing amid the totality. The simplest +two-dimensioned complex which we know of is the plane. To determine +accurately the position of a point in a plane, the simplest way is to +take two axes at right angles to each other, that is, fixed straight +lines, and then to specify the distances by which the point in question +is removed from each of these axes. + +This method of determining the position of a point in a plane suggested +to the celebrated philosopher and mathematician Descartes the fundamental +idea of analytical geometry, a branch of mathematics in which by the +simple artifice of ascribing to every point in a plane two numerical +values, determined by its distances from the two axes above referred +to, planimetrical considerations are transformed into algebraical. So, +too, all kinds of curves that graphically represent the dependence of +things on time, make use of the fact that the totality of the points in +a plane is two-dimensional. For example, to represent in a graphical +form the increase of the population of a city, we take a horizontal axis +to represent the time, and a perpendicular one to represent the numbers +which are the measures of the population. Any two lines, then, whose +lengths practical considerations determine, are taken as the unit of +time, which we may say is a year, and as the unit of population, which +we will say is one thousand. Some definite year, say 1850, is fixed +upon as the zero point. Then, from all the equally distant points on +the horizontal axis, which points stand for the years, we proceed in +directions parallel to the other axis, that is, in the perpendicular +direction, just so much upwards as the numbers which stand for the +population of that year require. The terminal points so reached, or the +curve which runs through these terminal points, will then present a +graphic picture of the rates of increase of the population of the town +in the different years. The rectangular axes of Descartes are employed +in a similar way for the construction of barometer curves, which specify +for the different localities of a country the amount of variation of the +atmospheric pressure during any period of time. Immediately next to the +plane the surface of the earth will be recognised as a two-dimensional +aggregate of points. In this case geographical latitude and longitude +supply the two numbers that are requisite accurately to determine the +position of a point. Also, the totality of all the possible straight +lines that can be drawn through any point in space is two-dimensional, as +we shall best understand if we picture to ourselves a plane which is cut +in a point by each of these straight lines and then remember that by such +a construction every point on the plane will belong to some one line and, +_vice versa_, a line to every point, whence it follows that the totality +of all the straight lines which pass through the point assigned are of +the same dimensions as the totality of the points of the imagined plane. + +The question might be asked, In what way and to what extent in this +case is the specification of _two_ numbers requisite and sufficient +to determine amid all the rays which pass through the specified point +a definite individual ray? To get a clear idea of the problem here +involved, let us imagine the ray produced far into the heavens, where +some quite definite point will correspond to it. Now, the position of +a point in the heavens depends, as does the position of a point on all +spherical surfaces, on two numbers. In the heavens these two numbers are +ordinarily supplied by the two angles called altitude, or the distance +above the plane of the horizon, and azimuth, or the angular distance +between the circle on which the altitude is measured and the meridian +of the observer. It will be seen thus that the totality of all the +luminous rays that an eye, conceived as a point, can receive from the +outer world is two-dimensional, and also that a luminous point emits +a two-dimensional group of luminous rays. It will also be observed, +in connection with this example, that the two-dimensional totality of +all the rays that can be drawn through a point in space is something +different from the totality of the rays that pass through a point but +are required to lie in a given plane. Such a group of objects as the +last-named one, is a one-dimensional totality. + +Now that we have sufficiently discussed the attributes that are +characteristic of one and two-dimensional aggregates, we may, without any +further investigation of the subject, propose the following definition, +that, generally, _an n-dimensional totality of infinitely numerous +things is such, with respect to which the specification of n numbers +is necessary and sufficient to indicate a definite individual amid the +totality of all the infinitely numerous individuals of the group_. + +Accordingly, the point-aggregate made up of the world-space which we +inhabit, is a three-dimensional totality. To get true bearings in this +space and to define any determinate point in it, we have therefore to lay +through any point which we take as our zero-point three axes at right +angles to each other, one running from right to left, one backwards +and forwards, and one upwards and downwards. We then join each two of +these axes by a plane and are enabled thus to specify the position of +every point in space by the three perpendicular distances by which the +point in question is removed in a positive or negative sense from +these three planes. It is customary to denote the numbers which are the +measures of these three distances by _x_, _y_, and _z_, the positive +_x_, positive _y_, and positive _z_ ordinarily being reckoned in the +right hand, the forward, and the upward directions from the origin. +If now, with direct reference to this fundamental axial system, any +particular specification of _x_, _y_, and _z_ be made, there will, by +such an operation, be cut out and isolated from the three-dimensional +manifoldness of all the points of space a totality of less dimensions. +If, for example, _z_ is equal to seven units or measures, this is +equivalent to a statement that only the two-dimensional totality of the +points is meant, which constitute the plane that can be laid at right +angles to the upward-passing _z_-axis at a distance of seven measures +from the zero-point. Consequently, every imaginable equation between _x_, +_y_, and _z_ isolates and defines a two-dimensional aggregate of points. +If two different equations obtain between _x_, _y_, and _z_, two such +two-dimensional totalities will be isolated from among all the points +of space. But as these last must have some one-dimensional totality in +common, we may say that the co-existence of two equations between _x_, +_y_, and _z_ defines a one-dimensional totality of points, that is to say +a straight line, a line curved in a plane, or even, perhaps, one curved +in space. It is evident from this that the introduction of the three axes +of reference forms a bridge between the theory of space and the theory of +equations involving three variable quantities, _x_, _y_, _z_. The reason +that the theory of space cannot thus be brought into connection with +algebra in general, that is, with the theory of indefinitely numerous +equations, but only with the algebra of three quantities, _x_, _y_, _z_, +is simply to be sought in the fact that space, as we picture it, can only +have three dimensions. + +We have now only to supply a few additional examples of _n_-dimensional +totalities. All particles of air are four-dimensional in magnitude +when in addition to their position in space we also consider the +variable densities which they assume, as they are expressed by +the different heights of the barometer in the different parts of +the atmosphere. Similarly, all conceivable spheres in space are +four-dimensional magnitudes, for their centres form a three-dimensional +point-aggregate, and around each centre there may be additionally +conceived a one-dimensional totality of spheres, the radii of which can +be expressed by every numerical magnitude from zero to infinity. Further, +if we imagine a measuring stick of invariable length to assume every +conceivable position in space, the positions so obtained will constitute +a five-dimensional aggregate. For, in the first place, one of the +extremities of the measuring stick may be conceived to assume a position +at every point of space, and this determines for one extremity alone +of the stick a three-dimensional totality of positions; and secondly, +as we have seen above, there proceeds from every such position of this +extremity a two-dimensional totality of directions, and by conceiving the +measuring-stick to be placed lengthwise in every one of these directions +we shall obtain all the conceivable positions which the second extremity +can assume, and consequently, the dimensions must be 3 plus 2 or 5. +Finally, to find out how many dimensions the totality of all the possible +positions of a square, invariable in magnitude, possesses, we first give +one of its corners all conceivable positions in space, and we thus obtain +three dimensions. One definite point in space now being fixed for the +position of one corner of the square, we imagine drawn through this point +all possible lines, and on each we lay off the length of the side of +the square and thus obtain two additional dimensions. Through the point +obtained for the position of the second corner of the square we must +now conceive all the possible directions drawn that are perpendicular +to the line thus fixed, and we must lay off once more on each of these +directions the side of the square. By this last determination the +dimensions are only increased by one, for only one one-dimensional +totality of perpendicular directions is possible to one straight line +in one of its points. Three corners of the square are now fixed and +therewith the position of the fourth also is uniquely determined. +Accordingly, the totality of all equal squares which only differ from one +another by their position in space, constitutes a manifoldness of six +dimensions. + + +II. + +THE INTRODUCTION OF THE NOTION OF FOUR-DIMENSIONAL POINT-AGGREGATES, +PERMISSIBLE. + +In the preceding section it was shown that we can conceive not only +of manifoldnesses of one, two, and three dimensions, but also of +manifoldnesses of _any_ number of dimensions. But it was at the same time +indicated that our world-space, that is, the totality of all conceivable +_points_ that differ only in respect of position, cannot in agreement +with our notions of things possess more than three dimensions. But the +question now arises, whether, if the progress of science tends in such +a direction, it is permissible to extend the notion of space by the +introduction of point-aggregates of more than three dimensions, and to +engage in the study of the properties of such creations, although we know +that notwithstanding the fact that we may conceptually establish and +explore such aggregates of points, yet we cannot picture to ourselves +these creations as we do the spatial magnitudes which surround us, that +is, the regular three-dimensional aggregates of points. + +To show the reader clearly that this question must be answered in the +affirmative, that the extension of our notion of space is permissible, +although it leads to things which we cannot perceive by our senses, +I may call the reader’s attention to the fact that in arithmetic +we are accustomed from our youth upwards to extensions of ideas, +which, accurately viewed, as little admit of graphic conception as a +four-dimensional space, that is, a point-aggregate of four dimensions. By +his senses man first reaches only the idea of whole numbers—the results +of counting. The observation of primitive peoples[79] and of children +clearly proves that the essential decisive factors of counting are these +three: First, we abstract, in the counting of things, completely from +the individual and characteristic attributes of these things, that is, +we consider them as homogeneous. Second, we associate individually with +the things which we count other homogeneous things. These other things +are even now, among uncivilised peoples, the ten fingers of the two +hands. They may, however, be simple strokes, or, as in the case of dice +and dominoes, black points on a white background. Third, we substitute +for the result of this association some concise symbol or word; for +example, the Romans substituted for three things counted, three strokes +placed side by side, namely: III; but for greater numbers of things +they employed abbreviated signs. The Aztecs, the original inhabitants +of Mexico, had time enough, it seems, to express all the numbers up to +nineteen by equal circles placed side by side. They had abbreviated signs +only for the numbers 20, 400, 8000, and so forth. In speaking, some one +same sound might be associated with the things counted; but this method +of counting is nowadays employed only by clocks: the languages of men +since prehistoric times have fashioned concise words for the results of +the association in question. From the notion of number, thus fixed as +the result of counting, man reached the notion of the addition of two +numbers, and thence the notion that is the inverse of the last process, +the notion of subtraction. But at this point it clearly appears that +not every problem which may be propounded is soluble; for there is no +number which can express the result of the subtraction of a number from +one which is equally large or from one which is smaller than itself. The +primary school pupil who says that 8 from 5 “won’t go” is perfectly right +from his point of view. For there really does not exist any result of +counting which added to eight will give five. + +If humanity had abided by this point of view and had rested content with +the opinion that the problem “5 minus 8” is not solvable, the science of +arithmetic would never have received its full development, and humanity +would not have advanced as far in civilisation as it has. Fortunately, +men said to themselves at this crisis: “If 5 minus 8 won’t go, we’ll +_make it go_; if 5 minus 8 does not possess an intelligible meaning, we +will simply give it one.” As a fact, things which have not a meaning +always afford men a pleasing opportunity of investing them with one. The +question is, then, what significance is the problem “5 minus 8” to be +invested with? + +The most natural and, therefore, the most advantageous solution +undoubtedly is to abide by the original notion of subtraction as the +inverse of addition, and to make the significance of 5 minus 8 such, +that for 5 minus 8 plus 8 we shall get our original minuend 5. By such a +method all the rules of computation which apply to real differences will +also hold good for unreal differences, such as 5 minus 8. But it then +clearly appears that all forms expressive of differences in which the +number that stands before the minus direction is less by an equal amount +than that which follows it may be regarded as equal; so that the simplest +course seems to be to introduce as the common characteristic of all equal +differential forms of this description a common sign, which will indicate +at the same time the difference of the two numbers thus associated. Thus +it came about, that for 5 minus 8, as well as for every differential form +which can be regarded as equal thereto the sign “-3” was introduced. But +in calling differential forms of this description numbers, the notion of +number was extended and a new domain was opened up, namely, the domain of +negative numbers. + +In the further development of the science of arithmetic, through the +operation of division viewed as the inverse of multiplication, a second +extension of the idea of number was reached, namely, the notion of +fractional numbers as the outcome of divisions that had led to numbers +hitherto undefined. We find, thus, that the science of arithmetic +throughout its whole development has strictly adhered to the principle +of conformity and consistency and has invested every association of +two numbers, which before had no significance, by the introduction of +new numbers, with a real significance, such that similar operations in +conformity with exactly the same rules could be performed with the new +numbers, viewed as the results of this association, as with the numbers +which were before known and perfectly defined. Thus the science proceeded +further on its way and reached the notions of irrational, imaginary, and +complex numbers. + +The point in all this, which the reader must carefully note, is, that +all the numbers of arithmetic, with the exception of the positive whole +numbers, are artificial products of human thought, invented to make the +language of arithmetic more flexible, and to accelerate the progress of +science. All these numbers lack the attributes of representability. + +No man in the world can picture to himself “minus three trees.” It is +possible, of course, to know that when three trees of a garden have been +cut down and carried away, that three are missing, and by substituting +for “missing” the inverse notion of “added,” we may say, perhaps, that +“minus three trees” are added. But this is quite different from the feat +of imagining a negative number of trees. We can only picture to ourselves +a number of trees that results from actual counting, that is, a positive +whole number. Yet, notwithstanding all this, people had not the slightest +hesitation in extending the notion of number. Exactly so must it be +permitted us in geometry to extend the notion of space, even though such +an extension can only be mentally defined and can never be brought within +the range of human powers of representation. + +In mathematics, in fact, the extension of any notion is admissible, +provided such extension does not lead to contradictions with itself or +with results which are well established. Whether such extensions are +necessary, justifiable, or important for the advancement of science +is a different question. It must be admitted, therefore, that the +mathematician is justified in the extension of the notion of space as a +point-aggregate of three dimensions, and in the introduction of space or +point-aggregates of more than three dimensions, and in the employment +of them as means of research. Other sciences also operate with things +which they do not know exist, and which, though they are sufficiently +defined, cannot be perceived by our senses. For example, the physicist +employs the ether as a means of investigation, though he can have no +sensory knowledge of it. The ether is nothing more than a means which +enables us to comprehend mechanically the effects known as action at a +distance and to bring them within the range of a common point of view. +Without the assumption of a material which penetrates everything, and +by means of whose undulations impulses are transmitted to the remotest +parts of space, the phenomena of light, of heat, of gravitation, and of +electricity would be a jumble of isolated and unconnected mysteries. The +assumption of an ether, however, comprises in a systematic scheme all +these isolated events, facilitates our mental control of the phenomena +of nature, and enables us to produce these phenomena at will. But it +must not be forgotten in such reflections that the ether itself is +even a greater problem for man, and that the ether-hypothesis does not +solve the difficulties of phenomena, but only puts them in a unitary +conceptual shape. Notwithstanding all this, physicists have never had +the least hesitation in employing the ether as a means of investigation. +And as little do reasons exist why the mathematicians should hesitate to +investigate the properties of a four-dimensioned point-aggregate, with +the view of acquiring thus a convenient means of research. + + +III. + +THE INTRODUCTION OF THE IDEA OF FOUR-DIMENSIONED POINT-AGGREGATES OF +SERVICE TO RESEARCH. + +From the concession that the mathematician has the right to define +and investigate the properties of point-aggregates of more than three +dimensions, it does not necessarily follow that the introduction of an +idea of this description is of value to science. Thus, for example, in +arithmetic, the introduction of operations which spring from involution, +as involution and its two inverse operations proceed from multiplication, +is undoubtedly permitted. Just as for “_a_ times _a_ times _a_” we write +the abbreviated symbol “_a_³,” (which we read, _a_ to the third power,) +and investigate in detail the operation of involution thus defined, so we +might also introduce some shorthand symbol for “_a_ to the _a_ᵗʰ power to +the _a_ᵗʰ power” and thus reach an operation of the fourth degree, which +would regard _a_ as a passive number and the number 3, or any higher +number, as the active number, that is, as the number which indicates how +often _a_ is taken as the base of a power whose exponent may be _a_, or +“_a_ to the _a_ᵗʰ,” or “_a_ to the _a_ᵗʰ to the _a_ᵗʰ power.” + +But the introduction of such an operation of the fourth degree has proved +itself to be of no especial value to mathematics. And the reason is that +in the operation of involution the law of commutation does not hold +good. In addition, the numbers to be added may be interchanged and the +introduction of multiplication is therefore of great value. So, also, +in multiplication the numbers which are combined, that is, the factors, +may be changed about in any way, and thus the introduction of involution +is of value. But in involution the base and the exponent cannot be +interchanged, and consequently the introduction of any higher operation +is almost valueless. + +But with the introduction of the idea of point-aggregates of multiple +dimensions the case is wholly different. The innovation in question +has proved itself to be not only of great importance to research, but +the progress of science has irresistibly forced investigators to the +introduction of this idea, as we shall now set forth in detail. + +In the first place, algebra, especially the algebraical theory of +systems of equations, derives much advantage from the notion of multiple +dimensioned spaces. If we have only three unknown quantities, _x_, _y_, +_z_, the algebraical questions which arise from the possible problems of +this class admit, as we have above seen, of geometrical representation +to the eye. Owing to this possibility of geometrical representation, +some certain simple geometrical ideas like “moving,” “lying in,” +“intersecting,” and so forth, may be translated into algebraical +events. Now, no reason exists why algebra should stop at three variable +quantities; it must in fact take into consideration any number of +variable quantities. + +For purposes of brevity and greater evidentness, therefore, it is quite +natural to employ geometrical forms of speech in the consideration of +more than three variables. But when we do this, we assume, perhaps +without really intending to do so, the idea of a space of more than +three dimensions. If we have four variable quantities, _x_, _y_, +_z_, _u_, we arrive, by conceiving attributed to each of these four +quantities every possible numerical magnitude, at a four-dimensioned +manifoldness of numerical quantities, which we may just as well regard as +a four-dimensioned aggregate of points. Two equations which exist on this +supposition between _x_, _y_, _z_, and _u_, define two three-dimensioned +aggregates of points, which intersect, as we may briefly say, in a +two-dimensioned aggregate of points, that is, in a surface; and so on. +In a somewhat different manner the determination of the contents of a +square or a cube by the involution of a number which stands for the +length of its sides, leads to the notion of four-dimensioned structures, +and, consequently, to the notion of a four-dimensioned point-space. When +we note that _a_² stands for the contents of a square, and _a_³ for +the contents of a cube, we naturally inquire after the contents of a +structure which is produced from the cube as the cube is produced from +the square and which also will have the contents _a_⁴. We cannot, it +is true, clearly picture to ourselves a structure of this description, +but we can, nevertheless, establish its properties with mathematical +exactness.[80] It is bounded by 8 cubes just as the cube is bounded by 6 +squares; it has 16 corners, 24 squares, and 32 edges, so that from every +corner 4 edges, 6 squares, and 4 cubes proceed, and from every edge 3 +squares and 3 cubes. + +Yet despite the great service to algebra of this idea of +multiple-dimensioned space, it must be conceded that the conception +although convenient is yet not indispensable. It is true, algebra is in +need of the idea of multiple dimensions, but it is not so absolutely in +need of the idea of _point_-aggregates of multiple dimensions. + +This notion is, however, necessary and serviceable for a profound +comprehension of geometry. The system of geometrical knowledge which +Euclid of Alexandria created about three hundred years before Christ, +supplied during a period of more than two thousand years a brilliant +example of a body of conclusions and truths which were mutually +consistent and logical. Up to the present century the idea of elementary +geometry was indissolubly bound up with the name of Euclid, so that in +England where people adhered longest to the rigid deductive system of +the Grecian mathematician, the task of “learning geometry” and “reading +Euclid” were until a few years ago identical. Every proposition of this +Euclidian system rests on other propositions, as one building-stone in a +house rests upon another. Only the very lowest stones, the foundations, +were without supports. These are the axioms or fundamental propositions, +truths on which all other truths are, directly or indirectly, founded, +but which themselves are assumed without demonstration as self-evident. + +But the spirit of mathematical research grew in time more and more +critical, and finally asked, whether these axioms might not possibly +admit of demonstration. Especially was a rigid proof sought for the +eleventh axiom of Euclid, which treats of parallels. + +After centuries of fruitless attempts to prove Euclid’s eleventh axiom, +Gauss, and with him Bolyai and Lobatschewsky, Riemann and Helmholtz, +finally stated the decisive reasons why any attempt to prove the axiom +of the parallels must necessarily be futile. These reasons consist of +the fact that though this axiom holds good enough in the world-space +such as we do and can conceive it, yet three-dimensioned spaces are +ideally conceivable though not capable of mental representation, where +the axiom does not hold good. The axiom was thus shown to be a mere +fact of _observation_, and from that time on there could no longer be +any thought of a deductive demonstration of it. In view of the intimate +connection, which both in an historical and epistemological point of view +exists between the extension of the concept of space and the critical +examination of the axioms of Euclid, we must enter at somewhat greater +length into the discussion of the last mentioned propositions. + +Of the axioms which Euclid premises to his geometry, only the following +three are really geometrical axioms: + +_Eighth axiom_: Magnitudes which coincide with one another are equal to +one another. + +_Eleventh axiom_: If a straight line meet two straight lines so as to +make the two interior angles on the same side of it taken together less +than two right angles, these straight lines, being continually produced, +shall at length meet on that side on which are the angles which are less +than two right angles. + +_Twelfth axiom_: Two straight lines cannot inclose a [finite] space. + +The numerous proofs which in the course of time were adduced in +demonstration of these axioms, especially of the eleventh, all turn out +on close examination to be pseudo-proofs. Legendre drew attention to the +fact that either of the following axioms might be substituted for the +eleventh: + +_a_) Through a point there can be drawn to a straight line, within the +plane which joins the point with the line, one and one line only which +shall not intersect the first (parallels) however far the two lines may +be produced; + +_b_) If two parallel lines are cut by a third straight line, the interior +alternate angles will be equal. + +_c_) The sum of the angles of a triangle is equal to two right angles, +that is, to the angle of a straight line or 180°. + +By the aid of any one of these three assertions, the eleventh axiom of +Euclid may be proved, and, _vice versa_, by the aid of the latter each +of the three assertions may be proved, of course with the help of the +other two axioms, eight and twelve. The perception that the eleventh +axiom does not admit of demonstration without the employment of one of +the foregoing substitutes may best be gained from the consideration of +congruent figures. Every reader will remember from his first instruction +in geometry that the congruence of two triangles is demonstrated by the +superposition of one triangle on the other and by then ascertaining +whether the two completely coincide, no assumptions being made in the +determination except those above mentioned. + +[Illustration: Fig. 1.] + +In the case of triangles which are congruent as are I and II in +the preceding cut, this coincidence may be effected by the simple +_displacement_ of one of the triangles; so that even a two-dimensional +being, supposed to be endowed with powers of reasoning, but only capable +of picturing to itself motions within a plane, also might convince itself +that the two triangles I and II could be made to coincide. But a being +of this description could not convince itself in like manner of the +congruence of triangles I and III. It would discover the equality of +the three sides and the three angles, but it could never succeed in so +superposing the two triangles on each other as to make them coincide. A +three-dimensioned being, however, can do this very easily. It has simply +to turn triangle I about one of its sides and to shove the triangle, +thus brought into the position of its reflection in a mirror, into the +position of triangle III. Similarly, triangles II and III may be made to +coincide by moving either out of the plane of the paper around one of +its sides as axis and turning it until it again falls in the plane of +the paper. The triangle thus turned over can then be brought into the +position of the other. + +Later on we shall revert to these two kinds of congruence: “congruence +by displacement” and “congruence by circumversion.” For the present we +will start from the fact that it is always possible within the limits of +a plane to take a triangle out of one position and bring it into another +without altering its sides and angles. The question is, whether this +is only possible in the plane, or whether it can also be done on other +surfaces. + +We find that there are certain surfaces in which this is possible, and +certain others in which it is not. For instance, it is impossible to move +the triangle drawn on the surface of an egg into some other position on +the egg’s surface without a distension or contraction of some of the +triangle’s parts. On the other hand, it is quite possible to move the +triangle drawn on the surface of a sphere into any other position on the +sphere’s surface without a distension or contraction of its parts. The +mathematical reason of this fact is, that the surface of a sphere, like +the plane, has everywhere the same curvature, but that the surface of an +egg at different places has different curvatures. Of a plane we say that +it has everywhere the curvature zero; of the surface of a sphere we say +it has everywhere a positive curvature, which is greater in proportion +as the radius is smaller. There are surfaces also which have a constant +negative curvature; these surfaces exhibit at every point in directions +proceeding from the same side a partly concave and a partly convex +structure, somewhat like the centre of a saddle. There is no necessity +of our entering in any detail into the character and structure of the +last-mentioned surfaces. + +Intimately related with the plane, however, are all those surfaces, +which, like the plane, have the curvature zero; in this category belong +especially cylindrical surfaces and conical surfaces. A sheet of paper +of the form of the sector of a circle may, for example, be readily bent +into the shape of a conical surface. If two congruent triangles, now, +be drawn on the sheet of paper, which may by displacement be translated +the one into the other, these triangles will, it is plain, also remain +congruent on the conical surface; that is, on the conical surface also +we may displace the one into the other; for though a bending of the +figures will take place, there will be no distension or contraction. +Similarly, there are surfaces which, like the sphere, have everywhere a +constant positive curvature. On such surfaces also every figure can be +transferred into some other position without distension or contraction +of its parts. Accordingly, on all surfaces thus related to the plane or +sphere, the assumption which underlies the eighth axiom of Euclid, that +it is possible to transfer into any new position any figure drawn on such +surfaces without distortion, holds good. + +The eleventh axiom in its turn also holds good on all surfaces of +constant curvature, whether the curvature be zero or positive; only in +such instances instead of “straight” line we must say “shortest” line. On +the surface of a sphere, namely, two shortest lines, that is, arcs of two +great circles, always intersect, no matter whether they are produced in +the direction of the side at which the third arc of a great circle makes +with them angles less than two right angles, or, in the direction of the +other side, where this arc makes with them angles of more than two right +angles. On the plane, however, two straight lines intersect only on the +side where a third straight line that meets them makes with them interior +angles less than two right angles. + +The twelfth axiom of Euclid, finally, only holds good on the plane and +on the surfaces related to it, but not on the sphere or other surfaces +which, like the sphere, have a constant positive curvature. This also +accounts for the fact that one of the three postulates which we regarded +as substitutes for the eleventh axiom, though valid for the plane, is not +true for the surface of a sphere; namely, the postulate that defines +the sum of the angles of a triangle. This sum in a plane triangle is two +right angles; in a spherical triangle it is more than two right angles, +the spherical triangle being greater, the greater the excess the sum +of its angles is above two right angles. It will be seen, from these +considerations, that in geometries in which curved surfaces and not fixed +planes are studied, the axioms of Euclid are either all or partially +false. + +The axioms of geometry thus having been revealed as facts of experience, +the question suggested itself whether in the same way in which it was +shown that different two-dimensional geometries were possible, also +different three-dimensional systems of geometry might not be developed; +and consequently what the relations were in which these might stand to +the geometry of the space given by our senses and representable to our +mind. As a fact, a three-dimensional geometry can be developed, which +like the geometry of the surface of an egg will exclude the axiom that a +figure or body can be transferred from any one part of space to any other +and yet remain congruent to itself. Of a three-dimensional space in which +such a geometry can be developed we say, that it has no constant measure +of curvature. + +The space which is representable to us, and which we shall henceforth +call the _space of experience_, possesses, as our experiences without +exception confirm, the especial property that every bodily thing can be +transferred from any one part of it to any other without suffering in the +transference any distension or any contraction. The space of experience, +therefore, has a constant measure of curvature. The question, however, +whether this measure of curvature is zero or positive, that is, whether +the space of experience possesses the properties which in two-dimensioned +structures a plane possesses, or whether it is the three-dimensioned +analogon of the surface of a sphere is one which future experience alone +can answer. If the space of experience has a constant positive measure +of curvature which is different from zero, be the difference ever so +slight, a point which should move forever onward in a straight line, or, +more accurately expressed, in a shortest line, would sometime, though +perhaps after having traversed a distance which to us is inconceivable, +ultimately have to arrive from the opposite direction at the place from +which it set out, just as a point which moves forever onward in the +same direction on the surface of a sphere must ultimately arrive at its +starting point, the distance it traverses being longer the greater the +radius of the sphere or the smaller its curvature. + +It will seem, at first blush, almost incredible, that the space of +experience even _can_ have this property. But an example, which is the +historical analogon of this modern transformation of our conceptions, +will render the idea less marvellous. Let us transport ourselves back to +the age of Homer. At that time people believed that the earth was a great +disc surrounded on all sides by oceans which were conceived to be in +all directions infinitely great. Indeed, for the primitive man, who has +never journeyed far from the place of his birth, this is the most natural +conception. But imagine now that some scholar had come, and had informed +the Homeric hero Ulysses that if he would travel forever on the earth in +the same direction he would ultimately come back to the point from which +he started; surely Ulysses would have gazed with as much astonishment +upon this scholar as we now look upon the mathematician who tells us that +it is possible that a point which moves forever onward in space in the +same direction may ultimately arrive at the place from which it started. +But despite the fact that Ulysses would have regarded the assertion of +the scholar as false because contradictory to his familiar conceptions, +that scholar, nevertheless, would have been right; for the earth is not +a plane but a spherical surface. So also the mathematician might be +right who bases this more recent strange view on the possible fact that +the space of experience may have a measure of curvature which is not +exactly zero but slightly greater than zero. If this were really the +case, the _volume_ of the space of experience, though very large, would, +nevertheless, be finite; just as the real spherical surface of the earth +as contrasted with the Homeric plane surface is finite, having so and so +many square miles. When the objection is here made that a finiteness of +space is totally at variance with our modes of thought and conceptions, +two ideas, “infinitely great” and “unlimited,” are confounded. All that +is at variance with our practical conceptions is that space can anywhere +have a limit; not that it may possibly be of tremendous but finite +magnitude. + +It will now be asked if we cannot determine by actual observation +whether the measure of curvature of experiential space is exactly zero +or slightly different therefrom. The theorem of the sum of the angles of +a triangle and the conclusions which follow from this theorem do indeed +supply us with a means of ascertaining this fact. And the results of +observation have been, that _the measure of curvature of space is in all +probability exactly equal to zero or if it is slightly different from +zero it is so little so that the technical means of observation at our +command and especially our telescopes are not competent to determine the +amount of the deviation_. More, we cannot with any certainty say. + +All these reflections, to which the criticism of the hypotheses that +underlie geometry long ago led investigators, compel us to institute a +comparison between the space of experience and other three-dimensioned +aggregates of points (spaces), which we cannot mentally represent but can +in thought and word accurately define and investigate. As soon, however, +as we are fully involved in the task of accurately investigating the +properties of three-dimensional aggregates of points, we similarly find +ourselves forced to regard such aggregates as the component elements +of a manifoldness of more than three dimensions. In this way the exact +criticism of even ordinary geometry leads us to the abstract assumption +of a space of more than three dimensions. And as the extension of +every idea gives a clearer and more translucent form to the idea as it +originally stood, here too the idea of multiple-dimensioned aggregates +of points and the investigation of their properties has thrown a new +light on the truths of ordinary geometry and placed its properties in +clearer relief. Amid the numerous examples which show how the notion of a +space of multiple-dimensions has been of great service to science in the +investigation of three-dimensioned space, we shall give one a place here +which is within the comprehension of non-mathematicians. + +Imagine in a plane two triangles whose angles are denoted by pairs of +numbers—namely, by 1-2, 1-3, 1-4, and 2-5, 3-5, 4-5. (See Fig. 2.) Let +the two triangles so lie that the three lines which join the angles +1-2 and 2-5, 1-3 and 3-5, and 1-4 and 4-5 intersect at a point, which +we will call 1-5. If now we cause the sides of the triangles which are +opposite to these angles to intersect, it will be found that the points +of intersection so obtained possess the peculiar property of lying all +in one and the same straight line. The point of intersection of the +connection 1-3 and 1-4 with the connection 4-5 and 3-5 may appropriately +be called 3-4. Similarly, the point of intersection 2-4 is produced by +the meeting of 4-5, 2-5 and 1-2, 1-4; and the point of intersection +2-3, by the meeting of 1-3, 1-2 and 3-5, 2-5. The statement, that the +three points of intersection 3-4, 2-4, 2-3, thus obtained, lie in one +straight line, can be proved by the principles of plane geometry only +with difficulty and great circumstantiality. But by resorting to the +three-dimensional space of experience, in which the plane of the drawing +lies, the proposition may be rendered almost self-evident. + +[Illustration: Fig. 2.] + +To begin with, imagine any five points in space which may be denoted by +the numbers 1, 2, 3, 4, 5; then imagine all the possible ten straight +lines of junction drawn between each two of these points, namely, 1-2, +1-3 ... 4-5; and finally, also, all the ten planes of junction of every +three points described, namely, the plane 1-2-3, 1-2-4, ... 3-4-5. A +spatial figure will thus be obtained, whose ten straight lines will meet +some interposed plane in ten points whose relative positions are exactly +those of the ten points above described. Thus, for example, on this plane +the points 1-2, 1-3, and 2-3 will lie in a straight line, for through the +three spatial points 1, 2, 3, a plane can be drawn which will cut the +plane of a drawing in a straight line. The reason, therefore, that the +three points 3-4, 2-4, 2-3, also must ultimately lie in a straight line, +consists in the simple fact that the plane of the three points 2, 3, 4, +must cut the plane of the drawing in a straight line. The figure here +considered consists of ten points of which sets of three so lie ten times +in a straight line that conversely from every point also three straight +lines proceed. + +[Illustration: Fig. 3.] + +Now, just as this figure is a section of a complete three-dimensional +pentagon, so another remarkable figure, of similar properties, may be +obtained by the section of a figure of four-dimensioned space. Imagine, +namely, six points, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, situated in this four-dimensioned +space, and every three of them connected by a plane, and every four of +them by a three-dimensioned space. We shall obtain thus twenty planes and +fifteen three-dimensioned spaces which will cut the plane in which the +figure is to be produced in twenty points and fifteen rays which so lie +that each point sends out three rays and every ray contains four points. +(See Fig. 3.) Figures of this description, which are so composed of +points and rays that an equal number of rays proceed from every point and +an equal number of points lie in every ray, are called _configurations_. +Other configurations may, of course, be produced, by taking a different +number of points and by assuming that the points taken lie in a space of +different or even higher dimensions. The author of this article was the +first to draw attention to configurations derived from spaces of higher +dimensions. As we see, then, the notion of a space of more than three +dimensions has performed important work in the investigations of common +plane geometry. + +In conclusion, I should like to add a remark which Cranz makes regarding +the application of the idea of multiple-dimensioned space to theoretical +chemistry. (See the treatise before cited.) In chemistry, the molecules +of a compound body are said to consist of the atoms of the elements +which are contained in the body, and these are supposed to be situated +at certain distances from one another, and to be held in their relative +positions by certain forces. At first, the centres of the atoms were +conceived to lie in one and the same plane. But Wislicenus was led by +researches in paralactic acid to explain the differences of isomeric +molecules of the same structural formulæ by the different positions of +the atoms in _space_. (Compare “La chimie dans l’espace” by van’t Hoff, +1875, preface by J. Wislicenus). In fact four points can always be so +arranged in space that every two of them may have any distance from each +other; and the change of one of the six distances does not necessarily +involve the alteration of any other. + +But suppose our molecule consists of five atoms? Four of these may be +so placed that the distance between any two of them can be made what we +please. But it is no longer possible to give the fifth atom a position +such that each of the four distances by which it is separated from +the other atoms may be what we please. Quite the contrary, the fourth +distance is dependent on the three remaining distances; for the space of +experience has only three dimensions. If, therefore, I have a molecule +which consists of five atoms I cannot alter the distance between two of +them without at least altering some second distance. But if we imagine +the centres of the atoms placed in a four-dimensioned space, this can be +done; all the ten distances which may be conceived to exist between the +five points will then be independent of one another. To reach the same +result in the case of six atoms we must assume a five-dimensional space; +and so on. + +Now, if the independence of all the possible distances between the atoms +of a molecule is absolutely required by theoretical chemical research, +the science is really compelled, if it deals with molecules of more +than four atoms, to make use of the idea of a space of more than three +dimensions. This idea is, in this case, simply an instrument of research, +just as are, also, the ideas of molecules and atoms—means designed to +embrace in an obvious and systematic form the phenomena of chemistry +and to discover the conditions under which new phenomena can be evoked. +Whether a four-dimensioned space really exists is a question whose +insolubility cannot prevent research from making use of the idea, exactly +as chemistry has not been prevented from making use of the notion of +atom, although no one really knows whether the things we call atoms exist +or not. + + +IV. + +REFUTATION OF THE ARGUMENTS ADDUCED TO PROVE THE EXISTENCE OF A +FOUR-DIMENSIONED SPACE INCLUSIVE OF THE VISIBLE WORLD. + +The considerations of the preceding section will have convinced +the cultured non-mathematician of the service which the theory of +multiple-dimensioned spaces has done, and bids fair to do, for +geometrical research. In addition thereto is the consideration that every +extension of one branch of mathematical science is a constant source of +beneficial and helpful influence to the other branches. The knowledge, +however, that mathematicians can employ the notion of four-dimensioned +space with good results in their researches, would never have been +sufficient to procure it its present popularity; for every man of +intelligence has now heard of it, and, in jest or in earnest, often +speaks of it. The knowledge of a four-dimensioned space did not reach +the ears of cultured non-mathematicians until the consequences which the +spiritualists fancied it was permissible to draw from this mathematical +notion were publicly known. But it is a tremendous step from the +four-dimensioned space of the mathematicians to the space from which the +spirit-friends of the spiritualistic mediums entertain us with rappings, +knockings, and bad English. Before taking this step we will first discuss +the question of the real existence of a four-dimensional space, not +judging the question whether this space, if it really does exist, is +inhabited by reasonable beings who consciously act upon the world in +which we exist. + +[Illustration: Fig. 4.] + +Among the reasons which are put forward to prove the existence of a +four-dimensional space containing the world, the least reprehensible are +those which are based on the existence of symmetry. We spoke above of +two triangles in the same plane which have all their sides and angles +congruent, but which cannot be made to coincide by simple displacement +within the plane; but we saw that this coincidence could be effected by +holding fast one side of one triangle and moving it out of its plane +until it had been so far turned round that it fell back into its plane. +Now something similar to this exists in space. Cut two figures, exactly +like that of Fig. 4., out of a piece of paper, and turn the triangle +_ABF_ about the side _AB_, _ACE_ about the side _AC_, _BCD_ about the +side _BC_, and in one figure above and in the other below; then in both +cases the points _D_, _E_, _F_ will meet at a point, because _AE_ is +equal to _AF_, _BF_ is equal to _BD_, _CD_ is equal to _CE_. In this +manner we obtain two pyramids which in all lengths and all angles are +congruent, yet which cannot, no matter how we try, be made to coincide, +that is, be so fitted the one into the other that they shall both stand +as one pyramid. But the _reflected_ image of the one could be brought +into coincidence with the other. Two spatial structures whose sides and +angles are thus equal to each other, and of which each may be viewed +as the reflected image of the other, are called _symmetrical_. For +instance, the right and the left hand are symmetrical; or, a right and +a left glove. Now just as in two dimensions it is impossible by simple +displacement to bring into congruence triangles which like those above +mentioned can only be made to coincide by circumversion, so also in three +dimensions it is impossible to bring into congruence two symmetrical +pyramids. Careful mathematical reflection, however, declares, that this +could be effected if it were possible, while holding one of the surfaces, +to move the pyramid out of the space of experience, and to turn it round +through a four-dimensioned space until it reached a point at which it +would return again into our experiential space. This process would simply +be the four-dimensional analogon of the three-dimensional circumversion +in the above-mentioned case of the two triangles. Further, the interior +surfaces in this process would be converted into exterior surfaces, +and _vice versa_, exactly as in the circumversion of a triangle the +anterior and posterior sides are interchanged. If the structure which is +to be converted into its symmetrical counterpart is made of a flexible +material, the interchange mentioned of the interior and exterior surfaces +may be effected by simply turning the structure inside out; for example, +a right glove may thus be converted into a left glove. + +Now from this truth, that every structure can be converted by means +of a four-dimensional space inclusive of the world, into a structure +symmetrical with it, it has been sought to establish the probability of +the real existence of a four-dimensioned space. Yet it will be evident, +from the discussions of the preceding section, that the only inference +which we can here make is, that the idea of a four-dimensioned space is +competent, from a mathematical point of view, to throw some light upon +the phenomena of symmetry. To conclude from these facts that a space +of this kind really exists, would be as daring as to conclude from +the fact that the uniform angular velocity of the apparent motions of +the fixed stars is explicable from the assumption of an axial motion +of the firmament, that the fixed stars are really rigidly placed in a +celestial sphere rotating about its axis. It must not be forgotten that +our comprehension of the phenomena of the real world consists of two +elements: first, of that which the things really are; and, second, of +that by which we rationally apprehend the things. This latter element +is partly dependent on the sum of the experiences which we have before +acquired, and partly on the necessity, due to the imperfection of reason, +of our embracing the multitudinous isolated phenomena of the world into +categories which we ourselves have formed, and which, therefore, are not +wholly derived from the phenomena themselves, but to a great extent are +dependent on us. + +Besides geometrical reasons, Zöllner has also adduced cosmological +reasons to prove the existence of a four-dimensional space. To these +reasons belong especially the questions whether the number of the fixed +stars is infinitely great, whether the world is finite or infinite +in extension, whether the world had a beginning or will have an end, +whether the world is not hastening towards a condition of equilibrium or +dead level by the universal distribution of its matter and energy; the +problems, also, of gravitation and action at a distance; and finally, the +questions concerning the relations between the phenomena in the world of +sense-perception to the unknown things-in-themselves. All these questions +which can be decided in no definite sense, led Zöllner and his followers +to the assumption that a four-dimensioned space inclusive of the space of +experience must really exist. But more careful reflection will show that +this assumption does not dispose of the difficulties but simply displaces +them into another realm. Furthermore, even if four-dimensioned space did +unravel and make clear all the cosmological problems which have bothered +the human mind, still, its existence would not be proved thereby; it +would yet remain a mere hypothesis, designed to render more intelligible +to a being who can only make experiences in a three-dimensional space, +the phenomena therein which are full of mystery to it. A four-dimensioned +space would in such case possess for the metaphysician a value similar +to that which the ether possesses for the physicist. Still more +convincing than these cosmological reasons to the majority of men is +the physio-psychological reason drawn from the phenomena of vision which +Zöllner adduces. Into this main argument we will enter in more detail. + +When we “see” an object, as we all know, the light which proceeds or is +reflected therefrom produces an image on the retina of our eye; this +image is conducted to our consciousness by means of the optical nerve, +and our reason draws therefrom an inference respecting the object. When, +now, we look at a square whose sides are a decimetre in length, and +whose centre is situated at the distance of a metre from the pupil of +our eye, an image is produced on the retina. But exactly the same image +will be produced there if we look at a square whose sides are parallel +to the sides of the first square but two decimetres in length, and whose +centre is situated at a distance of two metres from the pupil of the eye. +Proceeding thus further, we readily discover that an eye can perceive +in any length or line only the ratio of its magnitude to the distance +at which it is situated from it, and that generally a three-dimensional +world must appear to the eye two-dimensional, because all points which +lie behind each other in the direction outwards from the eye produce +on the retina only one image. This is due to the fact that the retinal +images are themselves two-dimensional; for which reason, Zöllner says, +the world must appear to a child as two-dimensional, if it be supposed to +live in a primitive condition of unconscious mental activity. To such a +child two objects which are moving the one behind the other, must appear +as suffering displacement on a surface, which we conceive behind the +objects, and on which the latter are projected. In all these apparent +displacements, coincidences and changes of form also are effected. All +these things must appear puzzling to a human being in the first stages +of its development, and the mind thus finds itself, as Zöllner further +argues, in the first years of childhood forced to adopt a hypothesis +concerning the constitution of space and to assume that the world is +three-dimensional, although the eye can really perceive it as only +two-dimensional. Zöllner then further says, that in the explanation of +the effects of the external world, man constantly finds this hypothesis +of his childish years confirmed, and that in this way it has become in +his mind so profound a conviction that it is no longer possible for him +to think it away. Consonant with this argumentation, also, is Zöllner’s +remark, that the same phenomenon has presented itself in astronomical +methods of knowledge. To explain the movements of the planets, which +appear to describe regular paths on the surface of a celestial sphere, +we were compelled in the solution of the riddles which these motions +presented, to assume in the structure of the heavens a dimension of +“depth,” and the complicated motions in the two-dimensioned firmament +were converted into very simple motions in three-dimensioned space. +Zöllner also contends that our conception of the entire visible world as +possessed of three dimensions is a product of our reason, which the mind +was driven to form by the contradictions which would be presented to it +on the assumption of only two dimensions by the perspective distortions, +coincidences, and changes of magnitude of objects. When a child moves its +hand before its eyes, turns it, brings it nearer, or pushes it farther +away, this child successively receives the most various impressions on +the surface of its retina of one and the same object of whose identity +and constancy its feelings offer it a perfect assurance. If the child +regarded the changeable projection of the hand on the surface of the +retina as the real object, and not the hand which lies beyond it, the +child would constantly be met with contradictions in its experience, +and to avoid this it makes the hypothesis that the space of experience +is three-dimensional. Zöllner’s contention is, therefore, that man +originally had only a two-dimensional intuition of space, but was forced +by experience to represent to himself the objects which on the retinal +surface appeared two-dimensional, as three-dimensional, and thus to +transform his two-dimensional space-intuition into a three-dimensional +one. Now, in exactly the same way, according to Zöllner’s notion, will +man, by the advancement and increasing exactness of his knowledge of +the phenomena of the outer world, also be compelled to conceive of the +material world as a “shadow cast by a more real four-dimensional world,” +so that these conceptions will be just as trivial for the people of the +twentieth century as since Copernicus’s time the explanation of the +motions of the heavenly bodies by means of a three-dimensional motion +has been. + +Zöllner’s arguments from the phenomena of vision may be refuted as +follows: In the first place it is incorrect to say that we see the +things of the external world by means of two-dimensional retinal images. +The light which penetrates the eye causes an irritation of the optical +nerves, and any such effect which, though it be not powerful, is, +nevertheless, a mechanical one, can only take place on things which are +material. But material things are always three-dimensional. The effect +of light on the sensitive plates of photography can with just as little +justice be regarded as two-dimensional. Our senses can have perception +of nothing but three-dimensional things, and this perception is effected +by forces which in their turn act on three-dimensional things, namely, +our sensory nerves. It is wrong to call an image two-dimensional, +for it is only by abstraction that we can conceive of a thickness so +growing constantly smaller and smaller as to admit of our regarding a +three-dimensional picture as two-dimensional, by giving it in mind a +vanishingly small thickness. It is also wrong to say, as Zöllner says, +that when we see the shadow of a hand which is cast upon a wall we see +something two-dimensional. What we really perceive is that no light +falls upon our eye from the region included by the shadow, while from +the entire surrounding region light does fall on our eye. But this light +is reflected from the material particles which form the surface of the +wall, that is, from three-dimensional particles of matter. We must +always remember that our eye communicates to us only three-dimensional +knowledge, and that for the comprehension of anything which has two, one, +or no dimensions, _a purely intellectual act of abstraction must be added +to the act of perception_. When we imagine we have made a lead-pencil +mark on paper, we have, exactly viewed, simply heaped along side of each +other little particles of graphite in such a manner that there are by +far fewer graphite particles in the lateral and upward directions than +there are in the longitudinal direction, and thus our reason arrives by +abstraction at the notion of a straight line. When we look at an object, +say a cube of wood, we recognise the object as three-dimensional, and +it is only by abstraction that we can conceive of its two-dimensional +surfaces, of its twelve one-dimensional edges, and of its eight +no-dimensional corners. For we reach the perception of its surface, for +example, solely by reason of the fact that the material particles which +form the cube prevent the transmission of light, and reflect it, whereby +a part of the light reflected from every material particle strikes our +eye. Now, by thinking exclusively of those material particles which are +reflected, in contrariety to the empty space without and the hidden and +therefore non-reflected particles within, we form the notion of a surface. + +It is evident from this, that all that we perceive is three-dimensional, +that we cannot come at anything two-dimensional without an intellectual +abstraction, and that, therefore, we cannot conceive of anything +two-dimensional exerting effects upon material things. But this fact is a +refutation of the retinal argument of Zöllner. If vision consisted wholly +and exclusively in the creation of a two-dimensioned image, the things +which take place in the world could never come into our consciousness. +The child, therefore, does not originally apprehend the world, as Zöllner +says, as two-dimensional; on the contrary, it apprehends it either not +at all, or it apprehends it as three-dimensional. Of course the child +must first “learn how” to see. It is found from the observation of +children during the first months of their lives, and of the congenitally +blind, who have suddenly acquired the power of vision by some successful +operation, that seeing does not consist alone in the irritations which +arise in the optic nerves, but also in the correct interpretation of +these irritations by reason. This correct interpretation, however, can +be accomplished only by the accumulation of a considerable stock of +experience. Especially must the recognition of the distance of the object +seen, be gradually learned. In this, two things are especially helpful; +first, the fact that we have two eyes and, consequently, that we must +feel two irritations of the optic nerves which are not wholly alike; and +secondly, the fact that we are enabled by our power of motion and our +sense of touch to convince ourselves of the distance and form of the +bodies seen. The question now arises, what sort of an intuition of space +would a creature have that had only one eye, that could neither move +itself nor its eye, and also possessed no peripheral nerves. According +to Zöllner’s view, this creature could, owing to its two-dimensional +retinal images, only have a two-dimensional intuition of space. The +author’s opinion, however, is, that such a creature could not see at all, +as it has no possibility of collecting experiences which are adapted in +any way to interpreting the effects of things on its retina. The light +which proceeded from the objects roundabout and fell on the retina could +produce no other effect on the being than that of a wholly intelligible +irritation, or, perhaps, even pain. + +The reflections presented sufficiently show that neither the phenomena +of symmetry nor the retinal images of the objects of vision necessarily +force upon us the assumption of a four-dimensioned space. If the +material world should ever present problems which could not in the +progress of knowledge be solved in a natural way, the assumption that +a four-dimensional space containing the world exists would also be +incompetent to resolve the difficulties presented; it would simply +convert these difficulties into others, and not dispose of the problems +but simply displace them to another world. Yet the question might be +asked, Is the existence of a four-dimensional space really _impossible_? +To answer this question, we must first clearly know what we mean by +“exist.” If existence means that the intellectual _idea_ of a thing +can be formed and that this idea shall not lead to contradictions with +other well-established ideas and with experience, we have only to +say that four-dimensioned space does exist, as the arguments adduced +in sections II and III have rendered plain. If, namely, the space +of four dimensions did not exist as a clear idea in the minds of +mathematicians, mathematicians could certainly not have been led by +this idea to results which are recognised by the senses as true, and +which really take place in our own representable space. But if existence +means “material actuality” we must say that we neither now nor in the +future can know anything about it. For we know material actuality +only as three-dimensional, our senses can only make three-dimensional +experiences, and the inferences of our reason, although they can +well abstract from material things, can never ascend to the point of +explaining a four-dimensional materiality. Just as little, therefore, +as we can locally fix the idea of a two-dimensional material world, as +little can we substantiate the notion of a four-dimensioned material +existence. + + +V. + +EXAMINATION OF THE HYPOTHESIS CONCERNING THE EXISTENCE OF +FOUR-DIMENSIONAL SPIRITS. + +In connection with the belief that the visible world is contained in a +four-dimensioned space, Zöllner and his adherents further hold that this +higher space is inhabited by intelligent beings who can act consciously +and at will on the human beings who live in experiential space. To invest +this opinion with greater strength Zöllner appealed to the fact that the +greatest thinkers of antiquity and of modern times were either wholly +of this opinion or at least held views from which his contentions might +be immediately derived. Plato’s dialogue between Socrates and Glaukon +in the seventh book of the Republic, is evidence, says Zöllner, that +this greatest philosopher of antiquity possessed some presentiment of +this extension of the notion of space. Yet any one who has connectedly +studied and understood Plato’s system of philosophy must concede that +the so-called “ideas” of the Platonic system denote something wholly +different from what Zöllner sees in them or pretends to see. Zöllner +says that these Platonic ideas are spatial objects of more than three +dimensions and represent “real existence” in the same sense that the +material world, as contrasted with the images on the retina, represents +it. Zöllner similarly deals with the Kantian “thing-in-itself,” which is +also regarded as an object of higher dimensions. + +To show Kant in the light of a predecessor, Zöllner quotes the following +passage from the former’s “Träume eines Geistersehers, erläutert durch +Träume der Metaphysik” (1766, Collected Works, Vol. VII, page 32 et +seqq.): “I confess that I am very much inclined to assert the existence +of immaterial beings in the world, and to rank my own soul as one of +such a class. It appears, there is a spiritual essence existent which is +intimately bound up with matter but which does not act on those forces of +the elements by which the latter are connected, but upon some internal +principle of its own condition. It will, in the time to come—I know not +when or where—be proved, that the human soul, even in this life, exists +in a state of uninterrupted connection with all the immaterial natures +of the spiritual world; that it alternately acts on them and receives +impressions from them, of which, as a human soul, it is not, in the +normal state of things, conscious. It would be a great thing, if some +such systematic constitution of the spiritual world, as we conceive it, +could be deduced, not exclusively from our general notion of spiritual +nature, which is altogether too hypothetical, but from some real and +universally admitted observations,—or, for that matter, if it could even +be shown to be probable.” + +What Kant really asserts here is, first, the partly independent and +partly dependent existence of the soul, and of spiritual beings +generally, on matter, and, second, that spiritual beings have some +common connection with and mutually influence one another. This +contention, which is that of very many thinkers, does not, however, +entail the consequence that the “transcendental subject of Kant” must be +four-dimensional, as Zöllner asserts it does. Kant never even hinted at +the theory that the psychical features of the world owe their connection +with the material features to the fact that they are four-dimensional +and, therefore, include the three-dimensional. Is it a necessary +conclusion that if a thing exists and is not three-dimensional, as is +the case with the soul, that it is therefore four-dimensional? Can it +not in fact be so constituted that it is wholly meaningless to speak of +dimensions at all in connection with it? + +Yet still more strongly than the words of Plato and Kant do certain +utterances of the mathematicians Gauss and Riemann speak in favor of +Zöllner’s hypothesis. S. v. Waltershausen relates of Gauss in his “Gruss +zum Gedächtnis,” (Leipsic, 1856,) that Gauss had often remarked that the +three dimensions of space were only a specific peculiarity of the human +mind. We can think ourselves, he said, into beings who are only conscious +of two dimensions; similarly, perhaps, beings who are above and outside +our world may look down upon us; and there were, he continued, in a +jesting tone, a number of problems which he had here indefinitely laid +aside, but hoped to treat in a superior state by superior geometrical +methods. Leaving aside this jest, which quite naturally suggested itself, +the remarks of Gauss are quite correct. We possess the power to abstract +and can think, therefore, what kind of geometry a being that is only +acquainted with a two-dimensional world would have; for instance, we can +imagine that such a being could not conceive of the possibility of making +two triangles coincide which were congruent in the sense above explained, +and so on. So, also, we can understand that a being who has control of +four dimensions can only conceive of a geometry of four-dimensional +space, yet may have the capacity of thinking itself into spaces of other +dimensions. But it does not follow from this that a four-dimensional +space exists, let alone that it is inhabited by reasonable beings. + +Riemann, on the other hand, speaks directly of a world of spirits. In +his “Neue mathematische Principien der Naturphilosophie” he puts forth +the hypothesis that the space of the world is filled with a material +that is constantly pouring into the ponderable atoms, there to disappear +from the phenomenal world. In every ponderable atom, he says, at every +moment of time, there enters and appears a determinate amount of matter, +proportional to the force of gravitation. The ponderable bodies, +according to this theory, are the place at which the spiritual world +enters and acts on the material world. Riemann’s world of spirits, the +sole office of which is to explain the phenomenon of gravitation as +a force governing matter, is, though, essentially different from the +spiritual world of Zöllner, the function of which is to explain supposed +supersensuous phenomena which stand in the most glaring contradiction +with the established known laws of the material world. + +Besides this appeal to the testimony of eminent men like Plato, Kant, +Gauss, and Riemann, the scientific prophet of modern spiritualism also +bases his theory on the belief, which has obtained at all times and +appeared in various forms among all peoples, that there exist in the +world forces which at times are competent to evoke phenomena that are +exempt from the ordinary laws of nature. We have but to think of the +phenomena of table-turning which once excited the Chinese as much as +it has aroused, during the last few decades, the European and American +worlds; or of the divining-rod, by whose help our forefathers sought for +water, in fact, as we do now in parts of Europe and America. + +Cranz, in his essay on the subject, divides spiritualistic phenomena +into physical and intellectual. Of the first class he enumerates +the following: the moving of chairs and tables; the animation of +walking-sticks, slippers, and broomsticks; the miraculous throwing of +objects; spirit-rappings (Luther heard a sound in the Wartburg, “as if +three score casks were hurled down the stairs”); the ecstatic suspension +of persons above the floor; the diminution of the forces of gravity; the +ordeals of witches; the fetching of wished-for objects; the declination +of the magnetic needle by persons at a distance; the untying of knots +in a closed string; insensibility to injury and exemption therefrom +when tortured, as in handling red-hot coals, carrying hot irons, etc.; +the music of invisible spirits; the materialisations of spirits or of +individual parts of spirits (the footprints in the experiments of Slade, +photographed by Zöllner); the double appearance of the same person; +the penetration of matter (of closed doors, windows, and so forth). +As numerous also is the selection presented by Cranz of intellectual +phenomena, namely: spirit-writing (Have’s instrument for the facilitation +of intercourse with spirits), the clairvoyance and divination of +somnambulists, of visionary, ecstatic, and hypnotised persons, prompted +or controlled by narcotic medicines, by sleeping in temples, by music and +dancing, by ascetic modes of life and residence in barren localities, by +the exudations of the soil and of water, by the contemplation of jewels, +mirrors, and crystal-pure water, and by anointing the finger-nails with +consecrated oil. Also the following additional intellectual phenomena +are cited: increased eloquence or suddenly acquired power of speaking +in foreign languages; spirit-effects at a distance; inability to move, +transferences of the will, and so forth. + +All these phenomena, presented with the aspect of truth, and associated +more or less with trickery, self-deception, and humbug, are adduced +by the spiritualists to substantiate the belief in a world of spirits +which consciously and purposely take part in the events of the material +world, and that these phenomena may be sufficiently and consistently +explained by the effects of the activity of such a world. It is +impossible for us to discuss and put to the test here the explanations +of all these supersensuous phenomena. Anything and everything can be +explained by spirits who act at will upon the world. There are only a +few of these phenomena, namely, clairvoyance and Slade’s experiments, +whose explanations are so intimately connected with our main theme, the +so-called fourth dimension, that they cannot be passed over. + +First, with respect to clairvoyance, the American visionary Davis +describes the experiences which he claims to have made in this condition, +induced by “magnetic sleep,” as follows:[81] “The sphere of my vision +now began to expand. At first, I could only clearly discern the walls of +the house. At the start they seemed to me dark and gloomy; but they soon +became brighter and finally transparent. I could now see the objects, +the utensils, and the persons in the adjoining house as easily as those +in the room in which I sat. But my perceptions extended further still; +before my wandering glance, which seemed to control a great semi-circle, +the broad surface of the earth, for hundreds of miles about me, grew as +transparent as water, and I saw the brains, the entrails, and the entire +anatomy of the beasts that wandered about in the forests of the eastern +hemisphere, hundreds and thousands of miles from the room in which I +sat.” The belief in the possibility of such states of clairvoyance is +by no means new. Alexander Dumas made use of it, for example, in his +“Mémoires d’un médicin,” in which Count Balsamo, afterwards called +Cagliostro, is said to possess the power of transforming suitable persons +into this wonderful condition and thus to find out what other persons at +distant places are doing. Zöllner explains clairvoyance by means of the +fourth dimension thus: + +A man who is accustomed to viewing things on a plain is supposed to +ascend to a considerable height in a balloon. He will there enjoy a +much more extended prospect than if he had remained on the plain below, +and will also be able to signal to greater distances. The plain, +that is, the two-dimensioned space, is accordingly viewed by him from +points outside of the plain as “open” in all directions. Exactly so, +in Zöllner’s theory, must three-dimensioned spaces appear, when viewed +from points in four-dimensioned space, namely, as “open”; and the more +so in proportion as the point in question is situated at a greater +distance from the place of our body, or in proportion as the soul ascends +to a greater height in this fourth dimension. Zöllner thus explains +clairvoyance as a condition in which the soul has displaced itself out +of its three-dimensioned space and reached a point which with respect +to this space is four-dimensionally situated and whence it is able to +contemplate the three-dimensional world without the interference of +intervening obstacles. + +The following remark is to be made to this explanation. The reason why +we have a better and more extended view from a balloon than from places +on the earth is simply this, that between the suspended balloon and the +objects seen at a distance nothing intervenes but the air, and air allows +the transmission of light, whereas, at the places below on the earth +there are all kinds of material things about the observer which prevent +the transmission of light and either render difficult or absolutely +impossible the sight of things which lie far away. In the same way, +also, from a point in four-dimensioned space, a three-dimensional object +will be visible only provided there are no obstacles intervening. If, +therefore, this awareness of a distant object is a real, actual vision by +means of a luminous ray which strikes the eye, there is contained in the +explanation of Zöllner the tacit assumption that the medium with which +the four-dimensional world is filled is also pervious to light exactly as +the atmosphere is. + +The theory that there are four-dimensional spirits who produce the +phenomena cited by the spiritualists received special support from the +experiments which the prestidigitateur Slade, who claimed he was a +spiritualistic medium, performed before Zöllner. Of these experiments +we will speak of the two most important, the experiment with the glass +sphere and the experiment with the knots. To explain the connection +of the glass sphere experiment with the fourth dimension, we must +first conceive of two-dimensional reasoning beings, or, let us say, +two-dimensional worms, living and moving in a plane. For a creature of +this kind it will be self-evident that there are no other paths between +two points of its plane than such as lie within the plane. It must, +accordingly, be beyond the range of conception of this worm, how any +two-dimensional object which lies within a circle in its space can be +brought to any other position in its space outside the circle without the +object passing through the barriers formed by the circle’s circumference. +But if this worm could procure the services of a three-dimensional being, +the transportation of the object from a position within the circle to +any position outside it could be effected by the three-dimensional being +simply taking the object _out of_ the plane and placing it at the desired +point. This object, therefore, would, in an inexplicable manner, suddenly +disappear before the eyes of the worms who were assembled as spectators, +and after the lapse of an interval of time would again appear outside +the circle without having passed at any point through the circle’s +circumference. If now we add another dimension, we shall derive from this +trick, which is wholly removed from the sense-perception of the flattened +worms, the following experiment, which is wholly beyond the perception +of us human beings. Inside a glass sphere, which is closed all around, +a grain of corn is placed; the problem is to transport the corn to some +place outside the sphere without passing through the glass surface. Now +we should be able to perform this trick if some four-dimensional being +would render us the same aid that we before rendered the two-dimensional +worm. For the four-dimensional being could take the grain of corn into +his four-dimensional space and then replace it in our space in the +desired spot outside of the glass sphere. Slade performed this trick +before Zöllner. Its mere performance sufficed to convince this latter +investigator that Slade had here made use of a four-dimensional agent, +who, in respect of power of motion, controlled his four-dimensional space +as we do our three-dimensional space. It never occurred to Zöllner that +this experiment was the cleverly executed trick of a prestidigitateur, +or, as it would at once occur to us, that the whole thing was a sensory +illusion. The fact that we cannot explain a trick easily and naturally +does not irrevocably prove that it is accomplished by other means than +those which the world of matter presents. + +Still better known than this last performance is Slade’s experiments +with knots. To explain this in connection with the fourth dimension, we +must resort again to the plane and the flat worm inhabiting it. To two +parallel lines in a plane let the two ends of a third line, which has a +double point, that is, intersects itself once, be attached. Our flat worm +would not be able to untie the loop formed by the doubled third line, +which we will call a string, because it cannot execute motions in three +dimensions. If, therefore, a two-dimensional prestidigitateur should +appear and accomplish the trick of untying this loop without removing the +two ends of the string from the parallel lines, he will have accomplished +for our flat worm a supersensuous experiment. A human being engaged in +the service of the prestidigitateur could execute for him the experiment +by simply lifting the string a little out of the plane, pulling it +taut, and placing it back again. This suggests the following analogous +experiment for three-dimensional beings. The two ends of a string in +which a common knot has been made are sealed to the opposite walls of a +room. The problem is to untie this knot without breaking the seals at the +two ends of the string. Everybody knows that this problem is not soluble, +but it may be calculated mathematically that the knot in the string can +be untied as easily by motions in a fourth dimension of space as in the +experiment above described the knot in the two-dimensional string was +untied by a three-dimensional motion. Now as Slade untied the knot before +Zöllner’s eyes without apparently making any use of the ends fastened in +the walls, Zöllner was still more strongly confirmed in the view that +Slade had power over spirits who performed the experiments for him. + +Still more far-reaching is the theory of Carl du Prel concerning the +relations of the material and the four-dimensional world. (Compare his +numerous essays in the spiritualistic magazine _Sphinx_.) Just as the +shadows of three-dimensional objects cast on a wall are controlled +in their movements by the things whose projections they are, in the +same way it is claimed does there exist back of everything of this +sense-perceptible world a real transcendental and four-dimensional +“thing-in itself” whose projection in the space of experience is what we +falsely regard as the independent thing. Thus every man besides existing +in his terrestrial self also exists in a spiritual or astral self which +constantly accompanies him in his walks through life and whose existence +is especially proclaimed in states of profound sleep, of somnambulism, +and in the conditions of mediums. In this way Du Prel explains the +wonderful feats of somnambulists, and the aerial journeys of sorcerers +and witches. Whereas, ordinarily the separation of the material body from +the astral body is only effected at the moment of death; in the case of +somnambulists this separation may take place at any time, or, as Du Prel +says: “the threshold of feeling may be permanently displaced.” + +In view of the natural relations of such theories to the dogmas of +Christianity it is explainable that theologians also have raised their +voices for or against spiritualism. While the _Protestant Church Times_ +beheld in the “repulsive thaumaturgic performances which these coryphæi +of modern science offer, a lack of comprehension of real philosophy,” the +magazine _The Proof of Faith_, expresses its delight at the discovery +of spiritualism in the following manner: “Every Christian will surely +rejoice at the deep and perhaps mortal wound which these new discoveries +have in all probability administered to modern materialism.” + +We shall pass by the childish opinion that the Bible also speaks of +four dimensions, as both in Job (xi, 8-9) and in the Epistle to the +Ephesians (iii, 18) only breadth, length, depth, and height, that is, +four directions of extension, are mentioned. Yet we will still add, as +Cranz has done, the reflections which Zöllner, as the most prominent +representative of modern spiritualism, has put forward respecting its +relation to the doctrines of Christianity (_Wissensch. Abhandl._, +Vol. III). By the foundation of transcendental physics on the basis +of spiritualistic phenomena, the “new light” has arisen which is +spoken of in the New Testament. The rending of the veil of the Temple +on the crucifixion of Christ, the resurrection, the ascension, the +transfiguration, the speaking with many tongues on the giving out of the +Holy Ghost, all these are in Zöllner’s view spiritualistic phenomena. +Similarly, he sees a reference to the four-dimensional world of spirits +in all those sayings of Christ in which the latter speaks to his Apostles +of the impossibility of their having any image or notion of the place to +which when he disappeared he would go and whence he would return. (Gospel +of St. John, xiii, 33, 36; xiv, 2, 3, 28; xvi, 5, 13). + +Ulrici, however, goes furthest in the mingling of spiritualistic and +Christian beliefs; for he sees in the doctrine of spiritualism a means +of strengthening belief in a supreme moral world-order and in the +immortality of the soul. In answer to Ulrici’s tract “Spiritualism +So-called, a Question of Science” (1889) Wundt wrote an annihilating +reply bearing the title “Spiritualism, a Question of Science So-called.” +Wundt criticises the future condition of our souls according to +spiritualistic hypotheses in the following sarcastic yet pertinent words, +which Cranz also quotes: “(1) Physically, the souls of the dead come +into the thraldom of certain living beings who are called mediums. These +mediums are, for the present, at least, a not widely diffused class and +they appear to be almost exclusively Americans. At the command of these +mediums, departed souls perform mechanical feats which possess throughout +the character of absolute aimlessness. They rap, they lift tables and +chairs, they move beds, they play on the harmonica, and do other similar +things. (2) Intellectually, the souls of the dead enter a condition +which, if we are to judge from the productions which they deposit on +the slates of the mediums, must be termed a very lamentable one. These +slate-writings belong throughout in the category of imbecility; they +are totally bereft of any contents. (3) The most favored, apparently, +is the moral condition of the soul. According to the testimony which +we have, its character cannot be said to be anything else than that of +utter harmlessness. From brutal performances, such, for instance, as the +destruction of bed-canopies, the spirits most politely refrain.” Wundt +then laments the demoralising effect which spiritualism exercises on +people who have hitherto devoted their powers to some serious pursuit or +even to the service of science. In fact it is a presumptuous and flagrant +procedure to forsake the path of exact research, which slow as it is, +yet always leads to a sure extension of knowledge, in the hope that +some aimless, foolhardy venture into the realm of uncertainty will carry +us further than the path of slow toil, and that we can ever thus easily +lift the veil which hides from man the problems of the world that are yet +unsolved. + + * * * * * + +Now that we have presented the opinions of others respecting the +existence of a four-dimensional world of spirits, the author would +like to develop one or two ideas of his own on the subject. In the +preceding section it was stated that everything that we perceive by our +senses is three-dimensional and that everything that possesses four +or more dimensions can only be regarded as abstractions or fictions +which our reason forms in its constant efforts after an extension and +generalisation of knowledge. To speak of a two-dimensional matter is +as self-contradictory as the notion of four-dimensional matter. But a +two or a four-dimensional world might exist in some other manner than a +material manner, and for all we know in one which to us does not admit +of representation. But in such a case, if it were without the power of +affecting the material world, we should never be able to acquire any +knowledge concerning its existence, and it would be totally indifferent +to the people of the three-dimensional world, whether such a world +existed or not. Just as an artist during his lifetime produces a number +of different works of art, so also the Creator might have created a +number of different-dimensioned worlds which in no wise interfere with +one another. In such a case, any one world would not be able to know +anything of any other, and we must consequently regard the question +whether a four-dimensional world exists which is incapable of affecting +ours, as insoluble. We have only to examine, therefore, the question +whether the phenomenal world perhaps is a single individual in a great +layer of worlds of which every successive one has one more dimension +than the preceding and which are so connected with one another that +each successive world contains and includes the preceding world, and, +therefore, can produce effects in it. For our reason, which draws its +inferences from the phenomena of this world, tells us, that if outside +the three-dimensional world there exists a second four-dimensional +world, containing ours, there is no reason why worlds of more or less +dimensions should not, with the same right, also exist. But if now, +as Zöllner and his adherents maintain, four-dimensional spirits exist +which can act by the mere efforts of their own wills on our world, +there is surely no reason why we three-dimensional beings should not +also be able to produce effects on some two-dimensional animated world. +Whether we have, generally, any such influence we do not know, but we +certainly do know that we do not act purposely and consciously on a +two-dimensional world. If, therefore, Zöllner were right, the plan of +creation would possess the wonderful feature that four-dimensional beings +are capable of arbitrarily affecting the three-dimensional world, but +that three-dimensional beings have no right in their turn consciously to +affect a two dimensional world. + +The supporters of Zöllner’s hypothesis will perhaps reply to the +objection just made, that the plan of creation might, after all, possibly +possess this wonderful peculiarity, that we human beings perhaps, in +some higher condition of culture, will be able to act consciously on +two-dimensional worlds, and that at any rate it is simply an inference +by analogy to conclude from the non-existence of a relation between +three and two dimensions that the same relation is also wanting in the +case of four and three dimensions. As a matter of fact, the objection +above made is not intended to refute Zöllner’s hypothesis, but only to +stamp it as very improbable. But despite this improbability Zöllner +would still be right if the phenomena of the material world actually +made his hypothesis necessary. That, however, is by no means the case. +Although most of the phenomena to which the spiritualists appeal are +probably founded on sense-illusions, humbug, and self-deception, it +cannot be denied that there possibly do exist phenomena which cannot be +brought into harmony with the natural laws now known. There always have +been mysterious phenomena, and there always will be. Yet, as we have +often seen that the progress of science has again and again revealed as +natural what former generations held to be supernatural, it is certainly +wholly wrong to bring in for the explanation of phenomena which now seem +mysterious an hypothesis like that of Zöllner’s, by which everything in +the world can be explained. If we adopt a point of view which regards it +as natural for spirits arbitrarily to interfere in the workings of the +world, all scientific investigation will cease, for we could never more +trust or rely upon any chemical or physical experiment, or any botanical +or zoölogical culture. If the spirits are the authors of the phenomena +that are mysterious to us, why should they also not have control of +the phenomena which are not mysterious? The existence of mysterious +phenomena justifies in no manner or form the assumption that spirits +exist which produce them. Would it not be much simpler, if we _must_ have +supernatural influences, to adopt the naïve religious point of view, +according to which everything that happens is traceable to the direct, +actual, and personal interference of a single being which we call God? +Things which formerly stood beyond the sphere of our knowledge and were +regarded as marvellous events, as a storm, for example, now stand in the +most intimate connection with known natural laws. Things that formerly +were mysterious are so no longer. If one hundred and fifty years ago some +scientists were in the possession of our present knowledge of inductional +electricity and had connected Paris and Berlin with a wire by whose aid +one could clearly interpret in Berlin what another person had at that +very moment said in Paris, people would have regarded this phenomenon +as supernatural and assumed that the originator of this long-distance +speaking was in league with spirits. + +We recognise, thus, that the things which are termed supernatural depend +to a great extent on the stage of culture which humanity has reached. +Things which now appear to us mysterious, may, in a very few decades, +be recognised as quite natural. This knowledge, however, is not to be +obtained by the lazy assumption of bands of spirits as the authors of +mysterious phenomena, but by performing what in physics and chemistry +is called experiment. But the first and essential condition of all +scientific experimenting is that the experimenter shall be absolutely +master of the conditions under which the experiment is or is not to +succeed. Now, this criterion of scientific experimenting is totally +lacking in all spiritualistic experiments. We can never assign in their +case the conditions under which they will or will not succeed. When all +the preparations in a spiritualistic séance have been properly made, but +nothing takes place, the beautiful excuse is always forthcoming that the +“spirits were not willing,” that there were “too many incredulous persons +present,” and so forth. Fortunately, in physical experiments these +pretexts are not necessary. By the path of experiment, and not by that of +transcendental speculation, physics has thus made incredible progress and +has piled new knowledge strata on strata upon the old. Accordingly, the +prospect is left that the mysteries which the conditions and properties +of the human soul still present can be solved more and more by the +methods of scientific experiment. To this end, however, it is especially +necessary that the physio-psychological experiments in question should +only be performed by men who possess the critical eye of inquiry, who are +free from the dangers of self-illusion, and who are competent to keep +apart from their experiments all superstition and deception. The history +of natural science clearly teaches that it is only by this road that man +can arrive at certain and well-established knowledge. If, therefore, +there really is behind such phenomena as mind-reading, telepathy, and +similar psychical phenomena something besides humbug and self-illusion, +what we have to do is to study privately and carefully by serious +experiments the success or non-success of such phenomena, and not allow +ourselves to be influenced by the public and dramatic performances of +psychical artists, like Cumberland and his ilk. + +The high eminence on which the knowledge and civilisation of humanity +now stands was not reached by the thoughtless employment of fanciful +ideas, nor by recourse to four-dimensional worlds, but by hard, serious +labor and slow, unceasing research. Let all men of science, therefore, +band themselves together and oppose a solid front to methods that +explain everything that is now mysterious to us by the interference of +independent spirits. For these methods, owing to the fact that they can +explain everything, explain nothing, and thus oppose dangerous obstacles +to the progress of real research, to which we owe the beautiful temple of +modern knowledge. + + HERMANN SCHUBERT. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[79] This is discussed at greater length in my tract _Zahl und Zählen_ in +Virchow-Holtzendorff’s collection of popular essays, J. F. Richter, 1887. + +[80] Victor Schlegel, indeed, has made models of the three-dimensional +nets of all the six structures which correspond in four-dimensioned space +to the five regular bodies of our space, in an analogous manner to that +by which we draw in a plane the nets of five regular bodies. Schlegel’s +models are made by Brill of Darmstadt. + +[81] Quoted by Cranz. + + + + +CORRESPONDENCE. + + + + +I. + +THE RELIGIOUS OUTLOOK IN FRANCE. + + +The return of Mme. Hyacinthe Loyson to France after her American tour, +undertaken, I understand, in order to obtain new support for the Gallican +church, suggests the writing of this article, which will be a brief +survey, from the point of view of an American layman, of the present +religious situation in France. + +As Père Hyacinthe’s reform has been made the peg on which to hang this +article, perhaps I cannot do better than begin by an examination of the +noble but fruitless labors of the eloquent ex-Carmelite. While one cannot +help being carried away by the oratory of Hyacinthe Loyson and charmed +with his personality, so full of wit, kindliness, and gentility; while +one must admire the devotedness and earnestness of Mme. Loyson and feel +much sympathy for their studious and promising son Paul, one is convinced +in spite of one’s self that this latter-day Gallicanism is doomed to +failure if indeed it has not already failed. You have simply to visit +the poor little church in the Rue d’Arras, in this city, to see what a +mere handful of followers Père Hyacinthe has been able to collect in +this great centre of two million people, after years of work and after +preaching hundreds of magnificent sermons that would fill to overflowing +the largest edifice in America, Sunday after Sunday, if delivered +with similar eloquence by a divine of no matter what denomination or +of no denomination at all. To the practical layman of this practical +age no further demonstration is necessary in order to prove that Père +Hyacinthe’s mission is, as the French say, _un coup dans l’eau_, that +is, an effort which produces no result. Whenever I leave this humble +church and am well out in the narrow, shabby street in which it is +situated and am away from the influence of the preacher’s fascination, I +cannot help exclaiming, What a waste of power, What a casting of pearls +before swine! And all of Mme. Loyson’s enthusiastic conversation in +private, her accounts of the encouraging letters received by the Père, +furtively of course, from discontented priests, and her statements +concerning the warm words of sympathy and support from the churchmen of +foreign lands, cannot remove that abiding feeling that this rejuvenated +Gallican church movement is other than a dismal failure; more than ever +one exclaims: _C’est un coup dans l’eau_. + +Père Hyacinthe has always received, in France as abroad, his greatest +support from the Protestants. But Protestantism here in France is a +sickly growth when compared, for instance, with its rich and sturdy +brother in the United States. It has, at most, only a small band of +followers, nearly lost to view in the vast army of Catholicism and +Freethought. Furthermore, the Liberal wing is losing ground and the +Orthodox wing gaining slightly, not an encouraging sign in these days to +those who hope for the final triumph of faith over the growing tendency +towards infidelity. The real truth is that about the only strength left +in French Protestantism to-day lies in the fact that there is a certain +_éclat_ associated, in the eyes of the upper classes, with the being a +Protestant, much as is the case in America and England, in the same rank, +about being a Roman Catholic. It distinguishes you from the multitude, +and in these democratic times human nature, especially when it is that +of the “upper ten,” is very keen for elimination from “the vulgar +throng.” It is difficult for an American to comprehend this peculiar +little streak of innocent vanity running through certain French circles +which shows itself in this wish to be known as Protestants. It is not +too much to say that to the impartial outside observer this phase of the +French Protestantism of to-day is the one that first strikes the eye; +which goes to prove in a peculiar but significant manner the weak hold, +on the one hand, which the doctrine of Luther and Calvin now has on the +French nation, and, on the other hand, how universal must be scepticism, +freethought, and utter indifference to church and religion of every kind. + +If native French Protestantism exerts so little influence on the nation, +it is easy to imagine the excessive futility of the work of the foreign +missionary. There is a great deal said in American and religious circles +about the labors in France of the Salvation Army, the McAll Mission, +the Young Men’s Christian Association, etc. I have received more than +one letter from would-be subscribers in the United States asking me if +these and other similar organisations were really accomplishing all that +they pretend. My reply is invariably that if you regard their labors as +charity work some good is being done, but if money is asked for because +of the religious results which have been accomplished, the demand should +be considered to be arrant humbug. If Père Hyacinthe, a Frenchman and a +Catholic, after forty years of labor, has accomplished next to nothing, +it is easy to imagine how this nation, so reserved in its relations +with the foreigner when he attempts to penetrate into its inner life, +would treat Scotch and Yankee missionaries. From a religious standpoint, +therefore, American money and sympathy is absolutely thrown away when +it is sent to France. If it be answered that much misery and physical +suffering is relieved by these foreign missions, the French might well +ask if charity does not begin at home. The French are a peculiarly +thrifty people. Few are poor, beggars are scarce and charitable +institutions are rich and numerous. Hence devoting American dollars to +the relief of French distress is much like sending coals to Newcastle, if +it is not a piece of sheer impertinence, like our protesting to the Czar +against his Siberian convict system when we have one quite as cruel in +full swing in some of our Southern states. + +And now, finally, a few paragraphs about the great Roman Catholic +church of France, the only religious institution of any real first-rate +importance in this country. + +While it is true that the Catholic Church, at least as a church, still +has a strong hold on the French nation, it is also quite true that +indifference, infidelity, free thought, and atheism are on the increase. +Matthew Arnold says, in his essay on Tolstoi, written in 1887: “Between +the age of twenty and that of thirty-five he [Tolstoi] had lost, he tells +us, the Christian belief in which he had been brought up, a loss of which +examples nowadays abound certainly everywhere, but which in Russia, as +in France, is among all young men of the upper and cultivated classes +more a matter of course, perhaps, more universal, more avowed, than it is +with us.” Arnold might have enlarged, at least in the case of France, his +limits and stated that in the cities the middle and lower classes, too, +particularly the male portion, have abandoned Rome. One has only to visit +a Paris church to be convinced of the contempt which men feel for the +priesthood and religion: you can count ten female devotees for one of the +masculine gender. In the village church, far away from the great centres, +the priest may still have the large majority of the population, men and +women alike, as faithful attendants upon service. But even here, for one +man who confesses, a dozen or score of women will kneel at the chair. +Then again, this more general participation in religious ceremonies by +the rural population is due in a large measure to the fact that these +Sunday masses and vespers are almost the only break and variety in a very +dead and monotonous existence. The church is a sort of meeting place, +where whole families, babies, children, and adults, congregate. The hum +of idle conversation, the crying of infants, and the ardent exhortations +of the priest are often mingled in a manner that would astonish and shock +a pious Protestant, accustomed to the highly proper atmosphere of an +Episcopalian or Presbyterian Church in the United States. + +Another sign of the disfavor in which French Catholicism finds itself +to-day is seen in the quality of its future priests. You have simply to +look into the faces of the seminarists as they pass by you in procession +in the streets of Paris to be convinced of the well-known fact that these +young men are, for the most part, the faint-hearted and dull-headed sons +of the peasantry, eager to escape the drudgery of farm life and not +intelligent enough for business or the petty employments offered by the +State. + +“Anybody can make a priest,” is often heard in France. The result is that +just as the English army is the receptacle for the riff-raff—the Tommy +Atkinses of Rudyard Kipling’s “Barrack-room Ballads”—of the cities, so +the French priesthood draws most of its recruits from the scum of the +farming districts. This fact contrasts strongly, by the way, with the +manner in which the Protestants fill their pulpits. The young man who +becomes a pastor is not looked upon by his friends and companions as a +failure and a numskull. Quite the contrary; he is immediately classed +among those taking a high moral stand. Some of the best families of +France are descended from, or have relatives who are, clergymen, and they +are quite proud of the fact; another example of that sentiment of halo +surrounding French Protestantism to which reference has already been made. + +Another cause of this boycotting of the cloth as a profession by the +youth of the élite is due to the Church having got on the wrong side +during the struggle for the foundation of the present Republic. The +Catholics supported the Monarchists and Bonapartists and took an active +part in the attempt to prevent the advent of republican institutions and +to overthrow these institutions when they had been accepted by a majority +of the nation. This unpatriotic course brought the Church into bad odor +among republicans, so that the having a son in orders, for example, would +be apt to be an impediment to a father aspiring to political preferment, +especially if the latter belonged to the Radical or Socialist wing of the +Republican army. The result is that a whole great political party is, in +its general tendency, opposed to the Catholic Church. + +Nor is the harm occasioned thereby limited to lowering the quality of +the seminarists. It makes a vast number of intelligent and influential +citizens sworn enemies of religion. Thus, when Gambetta attended +funerals, he would not enter the church, but wait outside in the porch. +When Louis Blanc was buried neither church nor priest participated in +the pageant. On the death of Henri Martin, a free-thinking Protestant +clergyman officiated at the burial service. Hundreds of other prominent +Republicans, who have died or been buried since 1870, never entered a +church, perhaps, except when their bodies were borne there by their +families, acting under the influence of its female members, or out of +respect for public sentiment. + +One of the shrewdest acts of Leo XIII. is his recent declaration in +favor of the French Republic. He not only accepts the situation, but +has ordered the faithful, both ecclesiastical and lay, in France to do +likewise. But this demand has not been complied with without a murmur. +More than one priest and noble has shown himself more ultramontane than +the Pope. The important fact remains true, however, that officially +the Vatican recognises the political change in France, and, though the +Republicans, particularly those of the Radical camp, are wary of these +new converts and still believe with Gambetta, that “_le clericalisme, +voilà l’ennemi_,” yet the mere fact that the Vatican lays down its arms +means a great deal, even if the hatchet may not be definitively buried. +Moderate Republicans, those who go to church even if they do not believe +what is said there, think they see in this action of the Holy Father a +new source of strength for the Republic. And it seems to me that they are +right, and that this view is the soundest. If the priesthood ceases its +attacks on the political powers that be, and if these latter keep a sharp +watch, which will be done while the Radical and Socialist elements are so +strong in Chamber and Senate, the clerical party can be held in check, +and the Republic will have so many less enemies, even if these quondam +enemies are but lukewarm friends. + + THEODORE STANTON. + + + + +II. + +NEW FRENCH BOOKS. + + +I am happy to have the opportunity in my present letter to speak +of a book of real importance, _La pathologie des emotions, Études +physiologiques et cliniques_, by M. CH. FÉRÉ. The name of this learned +physician of the Bicêtre is sufficiently well known to dispense me from +the necessity of speaking of his personality, so that I can devote all +that I have to say to his work. Its great merit is not so much the +novelty of the psychological theory which is laid at its foundation, as +the wealth of facts presented and the sureness of the methods pursued. +M. Féré’s mind is of a distinctly positive cast, and he possesses in a +high degree the ability to draw from the thesis which he illustrates and +confirms, the various consequences which from a medical and social point +of view this thesis involves. + +States of intellectual consciousness, he writes, citing Spencer, cannot +be dissociated from emotional states. The emotions are the products +of our mental representations of agreeable states or painful states, +and are the stronger according as they contain a greater number of +present or nascent sensations competent to recall these states. The +emotions, accordingly, being simply representations of states of +consciousness provoked by external excitations, it is to be presumed +that the physiological conditions of emotions (of central or cerebral +origin) present a striking analogy, if not an absolute resemblance, +to the physiological conditions of sensations (of peripheral origin, +either internal or external); and this relation should be as prominently +marked in pathological as in normal states. The upshot of all this is, +continues M. Féré, that physical agents capable of modifying a state of +consciousness of peripheral origin (sensations), are also capable of +modifying states of consciousness of central origin (emotions). “The +external signs of these different states of consciousness can be studied +by the same methods. Psychology is only specialised physiology; mental +medicine only a specialisation of general medicine, from which it must +borrow its methods of research and action—all purely physical. The +demonstration of these relations is the object of the present work.” + +The work, which contains almost six hundred pages, presents no divisions +but that of chapters. But it would not be difficult to group its contents +under the four general titles: (1) physiological and pathological effects +of physical agents on man; (2) physiological conditions and pathological +and curative effects of emotions; (3) psychopathy and morbid emotivity; +(4) the consequences to individuals and society of morbid emotivity, its +medical treatment, prophylaxis and legislation. The entire demonstration +of M. Féré, I might add, is essentially aimed at the two following +propositions: the first, that all the symptoms of emotions possess a +certain resemblance to those of fatigue or physical pain; the other, that +the original source of morbid emotivities and their resultant disorders +is a state of depression congenital or acquired. + +M. Féré reverts constantly to these fundamental ideas. After having +exhibited, for example, the reciprocal influences of the emotions, or +disorders of the imagination, and of disorders which are of physical +origin, he concludes that “physical disease and moral disease have the +same basis.” It is thus only in appearance, he writes, that the mind has +any influence on the functions of the body; the phenomena of mind are, +quite the reverse, the necessary effect of certain modifications of the +body, and it is by the intermediary action of the manifestations of the +body that the representations of the mind act. It is found convenient to +regard the gray matter of the brain as the central organ of the emotions, +and the great sympathetic as the peripheral organ that presides over +their “exteriorisation”; but we have no right to think of the emotions +without their external signs, and we are thus led to the conclusion that +“emotion is essentially a generalised reflex phenomenon the centrifugal +path of which is principally the great sympathetic system.” + +A psychological question much debated since M. Ribot took it up, the +question of _attention_, is also treated here, in an incidental yet +very interesting manner (Chapter III). M. Féré connects attention with +the study of the physiological conditions of physical action, and thus +takes sides, it will be seen, with the motory theory of attention. +James Sully, and others, have denied the existence of muscular phenomena +accompanying attention. But physiology is in a position to disclose +the existence of these movements; it can study their qualities, their +energy, their form, their precision, and their rapidity. We will find +in M. Féré’s book a number of new experimental facts establishing the +thesis that “muscular tension constitutes the physiological condition of +attention.” “The mistake of many psychologists (M. Hirth, for example) +has been, that they have confounded rest with willed immobility, which +from a mechanical point of view is very far removed from the former; +for immobility of will is precisely the result of very intense muscular +activities, and can only be produced by a general tension of the muscular +system, which throws the subject in a state such that it can react the +most quickly and most energetically on any excitation, whencesoever it +may proceed.” Willed, or voluntary, immobility is attention itself; +to produce this state, well-enervated and well-nourished muscles are +necessary. “We may say,” declares M. Féré, “that the practice of +immobility is the most favorable exercise for the development of the +mind: a system of education which should neglect this exercise would +suppress attention, it would be a regressive education.” + +“It is lack of attention,” he tells us further on, “that is the cause +of the insensibility of hysterical patients, and it is instability of +attention that is the cause of the variability of their sensory and +motory disorders.” It is all due to the want of sufficient energy to +bring simultaneously into a state of tension the muscular settings of all +of the sensory organs. Hysterical anæsthesia according to him—and how +perfectly right he is!—is nothing but a mental and psychical disease, +which may be cured by _suggestion_; it is an organic malady, which cannot +be cured without the restoration of the proper organic state. + +Worthy of notice are a few pages on the existence of electrical +phenomena, “which are exaggerated in certain subjects, but which appear +to exist in a more feeble degree in the normal states.” The facts here +involved might furnish us with a key to the phenomena of transmission, +polarisation, elective sensibility, and certain actions at a distance, +whose solution still presents great difficulties. Also to be noted are +a number of corrections of inductions made by Darwin, whom ignorance +of physiology often involved in mistakes concerning the true nature +of phenomena: thus Darwin was often led to attribute an intentional +character to actions which are throughout reflex. + +Basing his views on the inevitable correlation of these two orders of +phenomena, the physical and the psychical, M. Féré stands in a position +of direct hostility to the metaphysics (of course, unconscious) of the +great body of alienists. He selects the characteristic disorder of +insanity, namely hallucination, and sets about to show the existence of +physical phenomena concomitant with hallucination. Chapter XIII is one of +the most instructive of his work and well worth thoughtful perusal. Let +us add on this point that M. Féré stoutly combats the doctrine, held by +Magnan in particular, that all forms of phobia, that is to say, of morbid +emotive states, are the brands of degeneration. He admits, however, +that a great number are connected with permanent constitutional states, +congenital or acquired. + +M. Féré accepts the pathological and degenerative theory of crime. +But he rejects in a measure Lombroso’s thesis of the assimilation of +genius to insanity. Genius and talent, he says, are by no means devoid +of intellectual and emotional anomalies, but it is not true that +neuropathic states are the indispensable concomitants of genius, although +susceptibility to impressions is, when not developed to excess, one of +the physiological conditions of genius. + +With respect to the social consequences involved, I will simply quote +his concise statement that “physiology is quite in accord with political +economy in condemning the intemperate generosity which favors the +development and multiplication of emotive personalities.” With regard, +finally, to the question of responsibility, M. Féré’s position differs, +so far as I can see, in no respect from my own, which I have expounded at +sufficient length in a former number of _The Monist_, to dispense me from +the necessity of reverting to it here. + + * * * * * + +Our next book is also a remarkable one—_Les transformations du droit_, +by M. G. TARDE, a small volume of some two hundred and twelve pages. +M. Tarde has again and again declared himself the avowed adversary of +Spencerianism, and of evolution generally, at least in so far as the idea +of evolution is indiscriminately and unreflectingly employed, as is the +case, he maintains, in a great class of social questions which make up +the criminal and civil law. Everywhere in these domains, despite apparent +uniformity, which is the simple effect of a perspective that effaces the +differences of remote times, is found diversity. The serial stages of +development professedly disclosed, he rejects as absolutely incompetent +in the explanation of criminal law, procedure, the status of persons and +things, and obligations. + +In criminal law, for example, we ordinarily regard the system of +pecuniary composition as the origin of penal justice, and the idea +of vengeance as necessarily antecedent to the idea of culpability. A +mistake, says M. Tarde. And he offers on this subject a distinction which +is quite curious. He sees the defensive reaction made against criminal +acts originally splitting up into two distinct forms of quite unequal +scope: the one moral, the joint product of indignation and compassion; +the other vindictive, malevolent, and ruthless. The first, according +to him, is exercised within the family and between members of the same +social group; the second is displayed towards the foreigner and the +enemy. Of these two sources of penality, the domestic moral punishment +is the most important; the blow-for-blow policy, or vengeance, although +more apparent, is a secondary source. I fully admit that the instinct +of sympathy, the primitive condition of all social aggregation, has +never been wholly absent from human relations, and it might be that +the distinction perceived by M. Tarde is well founded, although the +two sources appear to have become so confounded in the justice of the +tribunals that it is difficult to trace them to that point. But M. +Tarde seems to me to be too much disposed to flatter the portrait of +the primitive man and to make as “mild as lambs” these prehistoric +creatures whom we have pictured as “cruel as tigers,” and to be too much +preoccupied with the ideas of penality and moral responsibility, which he +thinks the new theories have compromised. + +With respect to the status of persons, he denies the existence of the +well-known order of development by which promiscuity, matriarchy, and +patriarchy are said to succeed each other. The tribe could only have +arisen, he tells us, from the federation of families, and the strong +family, the one capable of development, could only have been patriarchal. +It is wrong, he adds, to regard uterine filiation, that is, the custom +of considering a child the son of its mother and not the son of its +father, as a vestige of a pre-existent matriarchy. “In a patriarchal +society, polygamy—which is the very reverse of matriarchy—ought in the +very necessity of things to give predominance to the custom referred to, +so that children born of the same mother could be distinguished from one +another.” This, indeed, was the idea of the Greek tragedians. The maxim, +which occurs so often in Euripides, that it is not good that a man should +have several wives, is always disclosed as the anxiety of assuring the +legitimacy of children; Æschylus charges Minerva to defend the “cause of +her father”; it is one of the aspects of the reaction against the customs +of Asia. The primitive family, says M. Tarde, in summing up, was quite +different in its original forms; it was here monogamic, there polygamic, +and in other places polyandrous, at one time exogamic and at another +endogamic, and so forth. “Marriage, therefore, did not spring from a +single typical form, nor does it, in its various forms, make towards +such.” + +His criticisms are of equal strength with regard to the status of +things and the presumed priority of collective property. Contrary to +the views of M. de Laveleye, he is of opinion that the community of the +village could only have arisen on an enlarged model of the community of +the family, “just as the vestal fire of the city could only have been +lighted in imitation of the fire of the domestic hearth”: The certain +effect of the first must in its origin have been to encroach upon, not to +produce, the second. Excessively preoccupied in finding in the present +the vestiges of a state of things that is past, the evolutionists involve +themselves, regardless of consequences, in many naïve and wonderful +theories, which M. Tarde, in his keen and pointed style, has not +hesitated to expose. There is much point and a profusion of the _granum +salis_ in these instructive pages. + +With respect to obligations, he makes a distinction, as in criminal law, +between internal and external relations. Also, after having asserted +with Sir Henry Sumner Maine, the non-fusion of the law of nature and +the law of nations, he remarks that here also there exists two sources +whose waters have not subsequently flowed together: the _jus naturæ_ is +conceived to be the generalisation of a type of relations abstracted from +the internal relations of the members of the primitive social group; the +_jus gentium_ to be the outcome of relations between men that belong to +different groups. + +Is, then, this disordered succession of the social data mere chance? The +reader will bethink himself of a number of facts which go to disprove +this conclusion, and it is a difficulty moreover which M. Tarde has +also felt. He replies by making a distinction of “two kinds of laws, +the laws of causation and the supposed laws of evolution.” The first, +which in his theory are analogous to the laws of celestial mechanics, +whose formulæ remain constant no matter what the history of the solar +systems distributed throughout the heavens may be, are the psychological +laws; the second are merely arbitrary formulæ, which, when we come to +define them accurately, do not admit of adaptation even to the majority +of cases. The psychological laws of which M. Tarde here speaks are +reducible to _imitation_[82]—consequently to _invention_—and to _logic_. +I certainly do not propose to question the importance of these factors. +In a short tract published several years ago I pointed out myself that +the influences of contact are more efficient than the influences of race +or even of climate, and this implicitly involves the idea of imitation. +Yet the character of the psychological factor does not, it seems to me, +exclude a tendency towards a certain arrangement of the data of society, +despite their possible and actual diversity. “With respect to the facts +of society,” I wrote, “we point out their changes but do not succeed +in disclosing the laws of their evolution; the most we have done is to +note amid the totality certain features which appear to predominate.” +To extricate these features is a task not unworthy of the historian. M. +Tarde himself admits that results of this character have already been +reached, and he especially points to “the splendid and commendable +movement in advance, which though not generally noticed[83] has, +nevertheless, accompanied all juridical evolutions”—namely, the constant +enlargement of the relations of law as the result of a growing sympathy +and sociability. + +To sum up, the point of view which M. Tarde has taken does not exclude +a class of researches different from his. Nothing can be better than to +formulate the laws of the psychological agent, and M. Tarde, original +mind that he is, has done this with a superiority and penetration to +which I yield my unqualified admiration. At bottom, does not the view +of Auguste Comte, despite his contempt for psychology, involve the +preliminary study of the biological individual and the social agent? +Psychological laws and physical laws undoubtedly meet in the same group +of “laws of causation”; still, it should not be forgotten that in the +social order of things man is the creator of the facts and that his +creations react upon him in the proportion in which they are realised. At +any rate, a tangible relation exists between the creations of the agent +and the variations of the results, and it is not forbidden to inquire if +there does not also exist a certain order in these creations, the effect +of which would be to produce a recognisable serial succession in the +results, a medial line about which the events of our life oscillate. A +difficult investigation—and one in which M. Tarde has shown himself to be +too speedily satisfied, and in which we should strenuously guard against +hasty generalisations. It is unpleasant, we admit, to turn topsy-turvy a +house in which we have long lived in comfort; but our contentment returns +in an increased measure when we have replaced our things in their proper +places, and swept out the dusty corners. + + * * * * * + +M. M. AGUILÉRA has just published a work entitled, _L’idée du Droit en +Allemagne_. His book is a history of the different schools of law which +have arisen in Germany and lays especial emphasis on the fact that no +nation has advanced as far as this in seeking in philosophical ideas the +motives and the justification of its acts, and he sets about showing how +the existence of Germany’s special conception of law may be explained. +Germany, he writes in his conclusion, everywhere starts from the idea of +force. Its peculiar characteristic is to bow before victorious force. And +to this must be added, if we wish to comprehend its aggressive character, +the sentiment of vanity, which has led it to proclaim “that incredible +formula: the ideal of Germany is the ideal of humanity.” + +M. GEORGE LYON gives us a learned historical study, _La philosophie +de Hobbes_. He points out how everything is interrelated in the work +of this philosopher—his conception of the state to his theories of +ethics, his ethical doctrines to his psychological theories, and the +latter to general principles concerning nature, thought, and their laws. +But he also presents with much force the objections to Hobbism. He +condemns its final consequence, which is submission to force. He points +out finally the inevitable ambiguity which permeates this system in +consequence of the struggle “between individual inspiration, which is +purely ontological, and the action of an intellectual environment which +is eminently empirical. Hobbes was the metaphysician of empiricism as +Bacon was its poet.” I dismiss for the present all discussion of these +subjects; an occasion will present itself later of dealing with them. + +In _Les races et les langues_ M. ANDRÉ LEFÈVRE sums up the state of +the science of language. The distinguishing characteristic of his work +is the non-separation of language from the organism which has produced +it, and the simultaneous presentation of languages with the ethnical +groups which speak them. M. Lefèvre accepts, let us note at once, the +well-known stages of the linguistic school—monosyllabism, agglutination, +inflection, and analysis, which M. Tarde, if he should unexpectedly +become a philologist would stigmatise as gratuitous. Of the races, of the +places of origin, and of the migrations of the ancient peoples he tells +a great many stories which are somewhat of the fairy-tale order, but +this reservation does not affect in the least the value of his special +linguistic researches. + +In conclusion I shall mention _Le problème de la mort, ses solutions +imaginaires et la science positive_, by M. L. BOURDEAU, and _Platon, +sa philosophie, précédé d’un aperçu de sa vie et de ses écrits_, by M. +CH. BÉNARD, a new volume in the series of historical studies by this +venerable professor.[84] + + LUCIEN ARRÉAT. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[82] See his work _Les lois de l’imitation_ (Alcan, Paris). + +[83] I have called attention to this in a less definite manner in +several passages of my book _La morale dans le drame, l’épopée et le +roman_, in which I shall have to incorporate the corrections which the +splendid studies of M. Tarde have suggested. For the citation given a +few lines above I ask permission to refer the reader to my _Journal d’un +philosophe_ (Alcan, Paris). + +[84] All the works mentioned are published by F. Alcan. + + + + +BOOK REVIEWS. + + +EINLEITUNG IN DIE PHILOSOPHIE. By _Prof. Friedrich Paulsen_. Berlin: +Wilhelm Hertz. 1892. + +Friedrich Paulsen, professor at the University of Berlin, writes this +“Introduction” not so much for connoisseurs as for students, whom it +may serve as a guide. He discusses in general outlines the various +fundamental problems of philosophy, at the same time indicating his +own position, which, in more than one respect, is very similar to the +philosophy presented in the columns of _The Monist_. + +His own view, which, as he trusts, is the general tendency of modern +philosophical thought, he calls “idealistic monism.” It is opposed, on +the one hand, to supernatural dualism, and on the other hand to atomistic +materialism; the former being the traditional doctrine of the schoolmen +and of ecclesiasticism, separating body and soul, nature and God, etc., +each into two distinct realities, which are accidentally combined, +the latter being an attempt, having its beginning in the eighteenth +century, to explain all natural phenomena in a purely mechanical way. +Paulsen adds: “The whole history of modern philosophy can be said to +be a continuous attempt to overcome this opposition.... The principle +of natural science is the _Natur-Gesetzmässigkeit_ of all events.... +Modern materialism derives from this a kind of metaphysics, represents +all reality as a system of blindly operating physical forces.... +Philosophy undertakes to dispel the opposition of these two doctrines; +its proposition is—and we may say that this is the main-spring of the +entire evolution of modern philosophy—_to reconcile the religious +world-conception with that of natural science_. There are many who regard +this aspiration as a sort of squaring of the circle, and we grant that +some similitude between the two may exist, for here as well as there we +can attain only to approximations, here as well as there we can never +solve the problem finally and forever. At any rate, we must recognise the +fact that the whole philosophical thought of the last three centuries has +been directed towards this goal.” + +Professor Paulsen classes the various philosophies of the present time +as follows: (1) The phenomenalistic-positivistic philosophy which denies +any absolute cognition of reality, least of all in physics; the world of +objects is a world of phenomena. (2) The idealistic monistic philosophy. +To define the nature of reality as it is in itself, we must rely upon +the data of our inner experience. The intellectual-historical world is +to us the most comprehensible dénouement of reality—in fact, the only +comprehensible one. The ultimate idea to which we are led in tracing +out facts, is this: Reality, which presents itself to our senses in the +objective world as a unitary system of motions, is the appearance of a +spiritual all-being, which must be conceived as the evolution of some +unitary idea. In this respect idealistic monism agrees upon the whole +with speculative philosophy, or rather with all idealism since Plato. + +The philosophy of the present time is, further on, characterised (3) as +passing from intellectualism to voluntaryism; namely, it allows the will +to have its legitimate influence in the construction of a world-view. It +is (4) evolutionistic-theological, which latter tendency meets half way +the above-mentioned idealistic monism. Both are beginning to permeate +ethics, sociology, jurisprudence, and politics. The old formalistic +methods are dropped and teleological considerations prevail. Purpose +is recognised to rule in life. Lastly (5) the philosophy of to-day +is historical. The older philosophy is mathematical-naturalistic or +abstract-rationalistic. Speculative philosophy precedes the construction +of an intellectual-historical world; it then attempts also to construct +nature historically, at least in a logico-genetic schematism. Natural +science has already pursued this course in its cosmical and biological +theories of evolution. It is apparent how these tendencies follow the old +tradition of harmonising the physical and the intellectual-historical +worlds into one unitary conception of the whole. + +The book is divided into two parts, with an introduction and conclusion. +The introduction defines the relation of philosophy to mythology and to +the sciences. Philosophy cannot be separated from the sciences. Says +Paulsen: “Figuratively speaking, reality is a great riddle proposed to +man; all the various sciences determine some parts of it, and the attempt +to solve the _whole_, to find the key to the _mysterium magnum_ of being, +is called philosophy.” + +The first book treats, in two chapters, of the problems of metaphysics, +viz.: the ontological problem and the cosmo-theological problem. In +the former chapter materialism, panpsychism, and the nature of the +soul are discussed, while the second chapter is devoted to atomism and +teleological theism, implying such subjects as the theory of evolution, +causality, pantheism. The second part reviews, in the first chapter, the +problems of the theory of cognition, viz.: the idealistic arguments, the +realistic views, and our knowledge of the outer world. The second chapter +presents an exposé of the problems regarding the origin of cognition as +viewed by rationalism and empiricism, paying special attention to Kant’s +formalistic realism. The conclusion is a brief treatment of some ethical +problems. + +It is impossible to discuss all the details of the 444 pages of Paulsen’s +book, but a few specimen quotations from the chapter “Pantheism and +World-soul” may be welcome to our readers. Our author asks: Considering +all the tendencies of yearning and willing that appear in the innumerable +forms of reality, is there a unity of inner life corresponding to the +unity of the physical world in its universal interaction? The affirmation +of this question constitutes the idealistic pantheism. + +Idealistic pantheism is to Professor Paulsen the simplest and most +obvious construction of the world possible. To other world-views, the +existence of the soul is a problem; it has even been called an “absolute +problem.” “I believe,” he adds, with great truth, “that there can be +no stronger argument against any world-view than that it regards the +existence of soul as something absolutely mysterious.” There is a power +of conviction in idealistic pantheism verified by the astonishing +agreement of the testimonies of many various thinkers in the Orient as +well as in the Occident, in antiquity no less than in modern times. (P. +243.) + +Says Professor Paulsen: “The dayfly may imagine when the sun sinks that +all is at an end; light vanishes forever and the whole world is swallowed +up in darkness and death. But man who sees so many suns sink and rise +should have learned that in the infinite there are many possibilities +which he cannot see at present [p. 241]. The conception of a world-soul, +of a spiritual all-being, of a _mundus intelligibilis_ appears to our +physicists and physiologists in the same light as the conception of +anthropomorphic deities—as a childish dream. They have no need of this +hypothesis [pp. 243-244]. Du Bois-Reymond declares that a naturalist +before admitting the assumption of a world-soul should demand, ‘that +we ought to find somewhere in the world neuroglia embedded in warm +arterial blood under the proper pressure and provided with appropriate +sense-organs, ganglions, and fibres, corresponding to the intellectual +capacities of such a soul.’ An animal,” says Paulsen, “needs as a matter +of course legs to stand upon and to move with, a stomach, teeth, eyes, +and a central nervous system, but the All is not in need of this; it +needs no legs to stand upon and to move with, no stomach for alimentary +purposes, no eyes, no ears, for there is nothing to be seen or heard +outside of it, and so it can also dispense with a nervous system and a +brain.” + +Quoting two passages, one from Fechner, the other from Nägeli, to the +effect that the system of fixed stars might be regarded as a group of +molecules in an infinitely larger whole which we should have to conceive +of as a unitary organism, Paulsen says: “Indeed, there is no objection to +regarding a planet as a ganglion of the world-brain. Is it too large? No. +Why should not the world-brain have bigger cells than an animal brain. Or +is its composition inappropriate? Why? We find in it the same materials, +carbon, oxygen, nitrogen, iron, phosphorus, and so forth, and also +innumerable interactions similar for all we know to those that take place +in a ganglion. Who knows how striking would be the resemblance of their +structures, if we could but see a ganglion under a sufficiently powerful +magnifying glass.” + +These ideas are mere possibilities and are presented as such, but we +cannot attribute to them any philosophical, scientific, or religious +importance. Our idea of “a world-soul” or, better, of God, is different +and we avoid purposely anything that can be constructed upon the basis of +a vague hypothesis. + +We ourselves reject pantheism, the view which identifies God and the +All for reasons which we need not repeat here. We call our view of +God entheism, and in forming our idea of God we purposely avoid such +fantastical assumptions as considering the possibility of solar systems +being molecules in the organism of a huge world-animal. Granted the +truth of this view, the mere possibility of which we cannot deny, +this extraordinary creature or world-animal would not be God, its +will would not be our moral authority; it would not be the eternal, +the immutable, the ground of all being, the ultimate rule of action, +and the omnipotent universal law of existence: it would merely be a +creature like ourselves, only immeasurably bigger, evolving like other +animals and subject to the same or analogous or perhaps similar wants, +disappointments, sufferings, and joys as ourselves. What a miserable God +such a world-being would be; we know nothing of him and he knows nothing +of us. His will and aspirations would have even less influence upon our +aspirations, than, for instance, the hopes of a man upon the molecular +groupings in his tissues, we being only the parasites upon the crust +of an atom of his tissues. We have presented our view of the subject +in Vol. III, No. 2, pp. 249-257, of _The Monist_, in the third part of +the article “Panpsychism and Panbiotism,” with reference to a similar +hypothesis incidentally touched upon as a possibility of monistic theism +by Professor Romanes. + +We simply state the difference between our position and that of Professor +Paulsen concerning the nature of a world-soul without intending to make +more of it than he does himself; for, if we are not mistaken, it is with +him a mere suggestion. + +We conclude our review with a passage which shows Professor Paulsen’s +attitude toward Christianity, which more than anything else proves the +general agreement of his work with ours. He says: + +“The Christian faith is not a philosophical system, not a theological +dogma and still less the residue of an old superstition, but the +immediate and living certainty of the heart concerning the nature of the +good and its importance in real life. This faith can be to-day the same +as it was in Luther’s, or St. Augustine’s, or the apostles’ time who saw +Jesus with their own eyes bodily. If Christianity, did indeed consist of +a number of doctrines and opinions, it would certainly be true, as some +claim, that it has been dead a long time, for doctrines and opinions are +not long-lived. If Christianity really did consist of the belief in the +creation of the world five thousand years ago out of nothing, the rib +story of Eve, the story of Eden and the fall, etc., etc., ... then indeed +it would be impossible for a thinking man of to-day to be a Christian. +But all that is not the faith of Christianity, it is not the religion of +Jesus. And if all the leaders of all the confessions declare that this +is the Christian faith and that he who does not believe all these things +can have no part in Christ, their proposition must be rejected as untrue. +No one can be saved by believing these things; while the request of the +church to believe in certain opinions set forth by men has expelled +many an honest man.... In the life and death of Jesus I have learned to +understand the meaning of life and I call God and the revelation of God +that which makes my life possible and explains to me the significance of +my life.... Is such a faith compatible with the above-mentioned monistic +world-conception? My answer is, By all means.” + +This is Professor Paulsen’s solution of the problem of a reconciliation +of science and religion—and we add that it is ours too. + + P. C. + + +FIRST STEPS IN PHILOSOPHY. By _William Mackintire Salter_. Chicago: C. H. +Kerr & Co. 1892. Price, $1.00. Pages, 155. + +This little book is divided into two parts: (1) Physical, (2) Ethical. +In the first, Mr. Salter discusses the conception of matter; in the +second, that of duty. Mr. Salter’s philosophical position is epitomised +in a sentence which he quotes from Herbert Spencer. This sentence states, +that, “what we are conscious of as properties of matter, even down to +its weight and resistance, are but subjective affections produced by +objective agencies which are unknown and unknowable.” Mr. Salter’s +philosophical position, accordingly, is, first, Idealism, and, second, +Agnosticism. + +In ethics, Mr. Salter’s view embraces Utilitarianism, or Hedonism, and +Intuitionism, both of which, he says, are incomplete in themselves, and +must be supplemented by other elements. Utilitarianism makes happiness +the ultimate end; Intuitionism, virtue; and Mr. Salter adds, such an end +must embrace the “realisation of _all_ our capacities.” Mr. Salter’s +ethical position has been before discussed in our journals. + +If we study Mr. Salter’s philosophical views, we shall find that his +theory is a reproduction of Berkeley’s analysis of the data of knowledge, +embellished by the results of modern physiological psychology. Yet Mr. +Salter’s theory, although it everywhere shows the traces of a close study +of Berkeley’s views, presents the strange historical anomaly of undoing +Berkeley’s work. Berkeley’s undoubted aim was to place knowledge on a +basis of fact and refute, in a philosophical manner, the agnosticism, +metaphysicism, and transcendentalism prevalent in his day. But Mr. Salter +adds to Berkeley’s results the very things that Berkeley sought to +overthrow, and thus renders the latter’s analysis (and consequently his +own) in need of an equivalent analysis. + +Take, for instance, the above-quoted sentence from Herbert Spencer, to +which Mr. Salter assents. “Objective agencies,” “unknown and unknowable”! +Is this consistent? All knowledge is a knowledge of sensations, a +knowledge _of_ and _in_ the mind, says the idealist, and we cannot, by +any process of ratiocination, arrive at things “outside” the mind. Yet he +himself, it seems, arrives at a knowledge of “objective agencies” outside +the mind (pp. 65, 69), and, what is more wonderful, at agencies that are +“unknown” and “unknowable.” Surely, this is not abiding by an analysis +of the facts of sensation (Berkeley). It is as unrational a procedure to +infer metaphysical objective agencies, as it is to infer a metaphysical +substratum “matter,” which last is the error of the realist. + +Again, take the notion of cause. Here, also, the same unwarrantable +abandonment of the facts of sensation, i. e. of _all that is_, is evident. + +At the end of an analysis, in which he shows that “all the choir of +Heaven and the furniture of the earth,” and “all which it inhabit,” +retreat and vanish in mind, Mr. Salter asks: “But is there absolutely +nothing real and objective left? So far as sensible phenomena are +concerned, we must answer, No, absolutely nothing is left; the whole +sensible (material) world is but an effect upon ourselves. But,” he adds, +“it would be a hasty inference,” on these grounds, “to say that nothing +whatever is left.” And when asked “what is left,” he answers, “all that +causes sensation.” We can never know scientifically what these causes +are, but “we have an inextinguishable faith” _that_ they are, “there +being no particular thing we are more sure of than that for every event +(and every sensible phenomenon is an event, viz., in ourselves) there is +some kind of explanation or cause.” To sum up: The theory of “sensible or +physical idealism”[85] implies a “supersensible or metaphysical realism.” +In the theory of sensible idealism things only exist as sensations; +“only exist, that is, _save in their supersensible or transcendental +causes_”—which, says the author, we must always add. + +What is a cause? Cause is an abstraction. An abstraction from what? from +a real, physical world, or from a metaphysical, transcendental world? +Plainly, from our real world, from Mr. Salter’s world of “sensible +reality.” By what philosophical warrant, then, is this concept applied to +a world from which it has not been derived and to which it surely cannot +apply! It is wrong to speak of a cause of the All. The All has no cause, +just as it has no weight. + +All these difficulties arise from the notion that there are two kinds +of knowledge and two kinds of existences. Idealism, to be consistent, +must be absolute; Mr. Salter’s idealism is not absolute. This is exactly +the criticism that the reading of his book at once forces on one. All +knowledge is knowledge of sensations, i. e. of reality; things not +accessible to sensation are not real, they do not exist; consequently, +all entities transcendental, metaphysical, and supersensible do not +exist. This is the conclusion to which any philosophy, idealism, realism, +or what not _must_ lead. + +Nowadays, few people dispute the fundamental thesis of idealism (of +course, expressed in different terms from those of Mr. Spencer’s +sentence). In a sense, it is established. Its only drawback is, that its +“establishment” accomplishes nothing. It leaves the problem of philosophy +where it found it.[86] Reality is still reality. The same difficulties +and perplexities exist. The universe still mocks us. And foremost among +the riddles that the world opposes to man, stands that eternal query: +“What is mind?” Mr. Salter’s views of this question will show us what +contributions his theory is likely to make to philosophy. + +Mr. Salter defines mind as “that which experiences sensations and +thoughts, or, more simply, that which feels and thinks.” It is not +feeling, not thinking, but _that which_ feels and thinks. It is thus an +agent, a subject. It is difficult to understand how this notion of mind +is come at, without self-contradiction. In their origin, all notions +of mind-subjects, mind-essences, mind-agencies, and so forth, are +materialistic. They must be volatilised and stripped of their substantial +attributes, if they are to take a place in an idealistic philosophy, and +then, as they “cannot be ranged along with the sensible phenomena of +which the mind takes cognisance,” there is but one realm left to exist +in, which is the transcendentalistic. + +All this comes from carrying the abstraction by which “mind” is reached, +to mathematically infinite limits. In this abstraction the world retreats +and fades away into nothingness. And what is left? Not a single idea +or fact by which we can fix our abstraction. Mind is all, and mind is +nothing. It is not matter, not time, not space—not even a mathematical +point, which we expect it to become in its infinitely contracting +perspective. It has no attributes, no qualities; it is nothing and +nowhere. This conception of mind, Mr. Salter says, is only mysterious as +we _make_ it so, by careless and inaccurate thinking. And Mr. Salter is +right. It would require much careless thinking to make such a conception +mysterious. A thing or notion that cannot be defined, placed, or brought +into connection with any other thing or notion in the world, is not +_mysterious_, but simply does not exist. In that respect, it is as plain +as day. + +The same confusion exists in the discussion which disposes of the query, +“_Where_ is mind?” The idealist, in Mr. Salter’s sense, does not admit +that the mind is in, or in anywise spatially connected with, the brain. +The question, _where_ is mind? he says, has no meaning, any more than +the question, what is the color of a pleasure? This is true. Mind is an +abstraction. In this sense it has no spatial existence. But the phenomena +from which this abstraction has produced itself, _are_ linked with +phenomena which have spatial existence, and in this sense the mental +processes are not mysterious nothings and nowheres. When I lose that +group of sensations called my leg, I know that, generally, I have lost +the feeling of my leg. So, also, when a certain part of that group of +sensations called my brain is destroyed, I know that I shall then have +lost my power of memory or of speech or of motion. I may also experiment +with other groups of sensations called dogs and cats, which I know have +mental powers. In the light of these facts it is not correct, either in +philosophy or common sense, to say that mental processes are absolutely +independent of locality. I know that my thoughts are not connected +with the group of sensations I call the moon, and I know they are not +connected with that group of sensations that I call Mr. Smith. I am +always aware of them as connected with that group of sensations which I +call “myself.” + +Mr. Salter, in fact, half recognises this. He says, “The mind _is_ +dependent on the body in the sense that our general power of sensation +and thought is connected with those sensations we call our body.” Yet, +“why this should be so is mysterious.” Indeed! One is inclined to ask +Mr. Salter here, what species of explanation or knowledge he wishes +of this phenomenon. Is explanation, or knowledge, something more than +the recognition and seeing of a plain connection between the groups of +sensations that constitute reality? In Mr. Salter’s analysis, all the +facts of the world are mysterious. Why a thing is as it is and is not +other than it is, is mysterious. He utterly fails to understand why +the power of perceiving colors is linked with the particular group of +sensations he calls his eye, and why it should not just as well be linked +with some other group or no group at all. + +Why do I see with my eye? Why do I not see with my hand or with the hairs +of my head, or why do I not eat with my elbow, instead of my mouth? +Why do not stones fall upwards? Why do not magnets point towards the +East? Why do not the planets move about Jupiter or Saturn? Mr. Salter’s +question makes a jumble of the whole universe. + +It is not the object of science or philosophy to find out why things are +not what they are, but to find out what they are. In this inquiry the why +and wherefore, properly understood, will evolve themselves. + +Science simply concerns itself with the connection of the groups of +sensations which the idealist, and for that matter every one else, calls +reality. It cannot concern itself with anything else. All other things +are artificial and self-made existences. Nothing exists but reality +and the connections of reality. To seek for any other connections than +those that exist is absurd and futile. And to seek for any other causes +or cause of relations than such as really are is also futile. Before we +speak of the knowledge of a thing we must analyse and define our notion +of knowledge, and before we speak of the cause of a thing we must analyse +and define our notion of cause. In our view, the relation which Mr. +Salter doubts, is so intimately and inextricably one, that the causal +relation disappears. Neither is the cause of the other. We may, for the +purposes of inquiry, start from either as our general concept, but we +should never go so far as utterly to expel from reality the other. True +science and philosophy are neither idealistic nor materialistic, but +_real_. The two positions are extreme positions, and each is useful only +as a safeguard against the errors of the others. Reality is reality; +that is the main thing. Whether it is idealistic or materialistic is of +minor consequence. Besides reality there is nothing; its negation is +non-existence. + +We do not wish in these criticisms to repudiate all that is in Mr. +Salter’s book. A great many of its reflections are helpful and +suggestive. We may refer, for example, to the passages in which the body +is regarded as a gradually decreasing wall of separation between that +part of reality which is known subjectively and that part which is known +objectively. This is really a unitary view. We believe, however, that if +Mr. Salter would carefully analyse the notions of knowledge, explanation, +cause, effect, and, therefore, the notion of reality, he would not +push his philosophy to the mysterious extreme at which it finally +arrives, and he would absolutely reject such unscientific conceptions +as supersensible realism, metaphysical realism, and supersensible +or transcendental causes. These render the reading of his book as a +philosophical help unsatisfactory, and leave the mind even more confused +and perplexed than it was before. However, all discussions of this sort +have their value, and Mr. Salter’s book possesses a virtue which few +other philosophical productions can boast of: it is very short. The +author’s pleasant style will also add to the pleasure of its perusal, and +if read critically the book will evoke much helpful thought. + + T. J. MCCORMACK. + + +A REVIEW OF THE SYSTEMS OF ETHICS FOUNDED ON THE THEORY OF EVOLUTION. By +_C. M. Williams_. New York and London: Macmillan & Co. 1893. + +This is a book, the perusal of which will leave the earnest student of +moral science full of disappointment. Not at all that it manifests any +lack of ability or information. On the contrary, it is at once clearly +and entertainingly written, and at the same time packed with notes and +comments that are full of interest and instruction. + +The course of the book may be briefly stated. The first part, comprising +nearly half of its six hundred pages, is devoted to the statement of +the ethical doctrines maintained by thirteen prominent writers, whose +views have been formed more or less under the influence of the theory of +evolution, viz.: Darwin, Wallace, Haeckel, Spencer, Fiske, Rolph, Baratt, +Stephen, Carneri, Höffding, Gizycki, Alexander, and Paul Ree. The rest +of the book is the review of our author. This review is conducted under +the topical heads: The Concepts of Evolution; Intelligence and End; +The Will; Thought, Feeling, and Will in Evolution; Egoism and Altruism +in Evolution; Conscience; Moral Progress in History; The Results of +Ethical Inquiry on an Evolutional Basis; and The Ideal and the Way of Its +Attainment. + +These are all topics of great interest and importance, and the author +has brought to the consideration of them a mind fully stored and +entirely competent. But we look in vain for that discourse and criticism +which above all other matters relating to moral science those who are +interested in human welfare crave from those who tender their reflections +upon ethical topics. + +The great need of moral science is the discovery and certification of its +basis. It is a need that far transcends the scope of mere moral science, +for upon its right determination depends the right determination of a +multitude of questions that deeply involve the welfare of humanity. It +is a need that is not merely crying to be supplied. It is absolutely +wailing. Could it only be rightly determined, mankind would fast enough +orient itself in the course of evolution and with undissipated energy +work out its best possible development. But undiscovered or uncertified +it balks all process, save only that mechanical, halting, stumbling +process that has hitherto obtained; a process that is, as all may +observe, one that has little if any inward coördination, but is full of +inability and cross-purposes. Since it was the professed purpose of +our author to review a number of the more prominent systems of ethics, +which he esteems to be founded on the theory of evolution, his failure +to notice and to comment upon so conspicuous a feature of moral science +would naturally lead a reader, unversed in the works noticed, to suppose +that those works had altogether slighted this topic. Such is, however, +not the case. With the exception of perhaps Darwin and Wallace, all +the writers reviewed by our author have given more or less attention +to this matter, and they have left us in no doubt as to the positions +which they severally hold. Most of them are Hedonists of one sort or +another. Haeckel, Carneri, Rolph, and Alexander are, we believe, the only +exceptions. + +But a more serious criticism upon the work under notice is suggested by +its very title. That title as much as says that the various works which +are reviewed by our author are “founded” upon the theory of evolution, at +least in so far as their ethical doctrines are concerned. + +Now, what is the theory of evolution? What is its essential nature? +Does not its very form consist in the affirmation of an eternal secular +mutation, in which there is no discontinuity whatever? It says that +existence in sum and in every detail is eternal and continuous process. +It uncompromisingly forbids all suppositions of any absolute beginning, +or of any absolute end, or of any absolutely final adjustment. Hence, no +system of ethics can with truth be said to be “founded” upon the theory +of evolution that ignores or forgets this essential character of it. +Now, when we turn to the consideration of the various “systems” which +our author supposes to be “founded” upon the theory of evolution, we +find them, one and all, occupied more or less with suppositions of ends. +All are forecasting some “ideal” condition, which, being attained, all +chances of retrogression will be foreclosed and all possibilities of +betterment will be exhausted. In other words, they suppose an attainment +of death, or rather an attainment of a death-in-life more utterly +horrible than any actual death can possibly be. The very first condition +for an ethics that will be truly evolutional must be the fit and full +recognition of a boundless horizon to evolution in morals as well as in +all else. Emerson perceived the truth when he said in “The Sphynx”: + + “Profounder, profounder + Man’s spirit must dive; + To his aye rolling orb + No goal will arrive. + The heavens that now draw him + With sweetness untold, + Once found; for _new_ heavens + He spurneth the old.” + +And at present, the most serious efforts to establish a truly +clear-sighted ethics of evolution, with an unequivocal disavowal of any +and all Hedonism, is made by the editors of _The Monist_. It, indeed, +is the key-note of the missionary work that characterises all the +publications of The Open Court Publishing Co. + +Any truly evolutional ethics must show itself a doctrine that applies +just as well to regress as to progress. Evolution is too often confounded +with progress, but degeneration is just as truly evolutional as is the +contrary movement, and, looking the facts of existence in the face, +mankind has no assurance of any unchangeable course of betterment. The +principles of morals are, however, not dependent upon the benign action +of nature. When the earth’s stock of fuel shall become exhausted, or +when the ice age returns, or when the sun grows cold, there will be no +alteration thereby in the moral law. Good and evil must and will be +the same under all circumstances, and no system of ethics is nor can +be anything but a temporary makeshift, that does not as well fit the +_diastoles_ as it does the _systoles_ of existence. We must look for +a doctrine that shall inform the conduct of men not only for the fore +part of the day, when all is jubilant and bounding and man asks only +for some good task to do, but also for the evening and night, when man +grows weary and craves for rest; for not only youth and maturity, but for +waning strength, old age, and death; for not only the progressive era of +cosmic history, but for the periods when natural conditions may disfavor +mankind, when, say, man may gradually be so reduced in resources that +the same will barely suffice for simple life-preservation; when under +the stress of natural conditions the human intellect, in the course of +generations, becomes step by step eliminated; when indeed humanity itself +tends perhaps slowly, but with certainty, towards permanent extinction. + +They who complacently protest that the theory of evolution leaves the +domain of moral science substantially unaffected are surely in great +default either in their comprehension of the nature and implications +of that theory, or in their powers of circumspection, while those who +suppose that moral science becomes evolutional simply because of a little +application of that theory to some of the subordinate questions that are +involved, show themselves in a plight as bad as the others if not worse. + +Our author notices without dissent, and even with seeming concurrence, +the various remarks made by many of the writers reviewed by him in +discredit of teleology. + +Since as we have before protested the theory of evolution forbids all +suppositions of any ends that are absolutely final, it of course follows +that teleology is in the strictness of its meaning inadmissible, even +in ethics. But in dismissing teleology, let us not pour out the child +with the bath. However it ought to be with the interpretation of the +order of nature as a speculative exercise, something that is analogous +to teleology is an absolute necessity if ethics is to be anything more +than a curious study of human practise. The universe may manifest no +purpose, design or secular tendency, but man is and can be nothing but a +miserable estray on the ocean of existence unless he sails on a course, +instead of merely drifting. To do this he must take something by which to +steer, and any plausible stability is better than no bearings whatever. +At any rate man is insuperably drawn to thus mark out his course. If the +theory of evolution forbids him to suppose any ends that are absolutely +final, it does not prevent him from ascertaining directions. Indeed +evolution affords him data of the very first importance for that behoof. +Instead of ends we have aims and if ethics is to become that counsel and +guide to humanity, which we yearn for so anxiously, it must ascertain +and certify that single paramount aim to which all other tendencies are +naturally subsidiary. Teleology, or rather the determination of the aim +of evolution, must prepare the foundation before any evolutional ethics +that is worthy the name can be established. + +Again our author with considerable debate notices the remarks of +the writers reviewed by him on the old question of free will and +necessity,—but like the positing of some end or aim to be subserved, +free will is one of the presuppositions of ethics. When man begins to +debate the possibility of rightly ascertaining the true end or aim for +his pursuit, or when he begins to moot the question of free will, he +is debating not any question of ethics proper, but only whether such a +science is possible. Unless conditions and events are functions, as well +of man’s personality as of his environment; unless persons count for +something in the variations of the course of nature, it is altogether +vain and idle to be troubled with questions of morality. + +Free will and somewhat to be achieved are principles which whether well +or ill founded, ethics proper must take for granted before it has or can +have any _raison d’être_. As for free will, however the metaphysicians +may have stumbled over their own feet, the common sense of mankind has +never wavered. As a practical question (and ethics is pre-eminently a +matter of practice) this question is not an open one. + +But on the question of what is the true paramount aim for man to pursue, +the decision that shall finally satisfy man is yet to be made. The best +proof that no satisfactory answer has yet been made is the fact that +we are still seeking an answer. As with regard to the needful prime +condition for a truly evolutional ethics we found wisdom in the poetical +insight, so again in this exigency we personally find the most profound +ethical philosophy in that same insight. + + “’Tis Life of which our nerves are scant. + ’Tis Life, not death for which we pant, + More Life, and fuller that we want.” + + FRANCIS C. RUSSELL. + + +DER PESSIMISMUS IM LICHTE EINER HÖHEREN WELTAUFFASSUNG. By _Dr. J. +Friedländer_ and _Dr. M. Berendt_. Berlin W.: S. Gerstmann. 1893. + +The authors’ aim is the refutation of pessimism and the foundation of +a higher world-conception. This latter is a pantheism spiritualised +by moral ideals and contrasted to Darwinism and materialism. Natural +science is said to be the surrounding walls of the new view, furnishing +(1) negative truths of criticism and (2) a knowledge of the positive +features of nature. The negative truths are: the impossibility of the +existence of a personal God, of the efficiency of prayer, of miracles, +of the immortality of the soul, of the separate existence of souls +without bodies. The positive results of natural science are the unity +of nature, the indestructibility of nature, the harmony of the All, +the indivisibility of nature, the irrefragable necessity of natural +processes according to immutable laws, and the freedom or independence of +nature, as having its cause in itself, uncreated and uninfluenced by any +extramundane being. + +Natural science alone, according to the authors, is not sufficient to +constitute the new world-conception. A one-sided view of natural science +together with the obsolete conceptions of theism are exactly what has +brought forth the philosophical pessimism of our time. Natural science, +accordingly, is not to be regarded as the sole source of truth; it is +to be corrected by pantheism. The former teaches us “to regard matter +and its motion, so to say, as a dead inert substance to which motion is +attached; it treats matter as an immediate reality. Pantheism, however, +teaches that matter is to be conceived as the interrelation of the +innumerable live acts of will appearing successively in time and side +by side in space,” etc. The authors point out that the necessity of law +which regulates the mechanical processes of nature does not exclude +freedom; for “freedom is not arbitrariness but is controlled by an +immanent _Gesetzmässigkeit_.” + +This summary is sufficient to characterise the ideas of the Drs. +Friedländer and Berendt. We cannot say that they admit of no criticism, +(e. g. their conception of natural science must be pronounced as too +narrow if not actually erroneous, nor should the law of the survival +of the fittest be interpreted in the sense that strength means brutal +force,) but we can, nevertheless, express our sympathy with the aim of +the authors as well as with the spirit in which they pursue it. + + κρς. + + +DIE PHILOSOPHIE UND DIE SOCIALE FRAGE. By _Gustav Engel_. Leipsic: C. E. +M. Pfeffer. 1892. + +ACHT ABHANDLUNGEN, HERRN PROFESSOR DR. KARL LUDWIG MICHELET ZUM 90. +GEBURTSTAG ALS FESTGRUSS DARGEREICHT VON MITGLIEDERN DER PHILOSOPHISCHEN +GESELLSCHAFT. Leipsic: C. E. M. Pfeffer. 1892. + +WIE STEHT ES JETZT MIT DER PHILOSOPHIE, UND WAS HABEN WIR VON IHR ZU +HOFFEN? By _Dr. Wilhelm Paszkowski_. Halle a. S.: F. Beyer, 1892. + +This lecture by the well-known writer on the science of statistics +and its related subjects was read before the Philosophical Society of +Berlin on the 31st of May, 1890. It discusses the problem of socialism, +or rather the aspirations of the German social democracy from the +philosophical point of view of the lecturer, which is a modernised +Hegelianism. This lecture drew forth on the evening of its delivery +considerable discussion, which was participated in by Herr Kahle, a +socialist, and Herr Runze. The discussions of these gentlemen, together +with Mr. Engel’s reply, are embodied in the pamphlet. + +The second of these two pamphlets is also a publication of the +Philosophical Society of Berlin. It consists of eight treatises, essays, +or lectures, which were presented by the members of the society to Prof. +Karl Ludwig Michelet as a festival gift on his ninetieth natal day. The +authors of these eight essays are: Adolf Lasson, August Cieszkowski, +Gustav Engel, Friedrich Kirchner, Wilhelm Paszkowski, Max Runze, Georg +Ulrich, and F. Zelle. They deal with philosophical subjects, chiefly such +as pertain to the Hegelian philosophy. Appended to the pamphlet is a +bibliography of the writings of this Nestor of the Philosophical Society +by F. Ascherson. + +The author of the third pamphlet complains about the decay of philosophy: +“Metaphysics, the inner fane in the temple of science, stands desolate,” +and the last disciples of Hegel can no longer prevent the deluge which +sweeps away the idealism of their grand old master. + + κρς. + + +DER MATERIALISMUS, EINE VERIRRUNG DES MENSCHLICHEN GEISTES, WIDERLEGT +DURCH EINE ZEITGEMÄSSE WELTANSCHAUUNG. By _Dr. Eugen Dreher_. Berlin: S. +Gerstmann. 1892. + +The author of this pamphlet, at present a docent at the University of +Halle, feels somewhat oppressed by the materialistic tendencies of our +times. His desire is to establish in the world a province of the ideal, +and this domain of idealistic aspirations and hopes, he says, must and +can be based upon a scientific foundation. To reach this goal, the author +propounds a philosophy which is confessedly dualistic, and which must be +made a kind of religion. Descartes’s _Cogito, ergo sum_, is to him the +beginning of all philosophy. The existence of the All is devoid of sense, +unless there is an ego to think it. This dualism, if made a religion, +will throw light upon the problems of the labyrinth of life. + +The aspirations of the author are serious and noble. We cannot, however, +agree with the results of his reasonings. He does not seem to have +considered Kant’s objections to the fallacy of the _cogito, ergo “ego” +sum_. Nor is he familiar with Lichtenberg’s famous remark, that “we +should say by rights ‘it thinks,’ exactly as we say ‘it rains.’” The +same moral conclusions at which the author arrives may be reached, the +same province for ideal aspirations in the world may be gained, the same +religious comfort may be found, without any surrender of the monistic +view of the world. Materialism is an error of human thought. But the +error cannot be cured by dualism. + + κρς. + + +UEBER DIE GRUNDFORMEN DER VORSTELLUNGSVERBINDUNG. Psychologische Studie. +By _Max Offner_. Marburg: R. Friedrich. 1892. + +This little brochure is a carefully worked out study of the phenomena of +association. The author’s view is summed up in the following statement: +“The attempt to reduce the phenomena of association, in conformity with +their real nature, to one single ultimate process cannot be regarded as +successful, and we shall have to control our aspirations after a unitary +conception and rest satisfied with reducing the various phenomena of +association to two processes which are closely related, namely: (1) to +an association of simultaneity; and (2) to an association of immediate +succession.” There is much that is suggestive in the sixty-seven pages of +this pamphlet. + + κρς. + + +FINITE HOMOGENEOUS STRAIN, FLOW, AND RUPTURE OF ROCKS. Bulletin of +the Geological Society of America. By _George F. Becker_. Rochester: +Published by the Society. 1893. + +This is a purely technical research, concerning the causes and form of +the discontinuity of rock masses. The studies presented are the outgrowth +of field-work in the Sierra Nevada of California. This range is so +intersected by false joints, schistose and slaty cleavages, that on a +scale of one mile to the inch their average separation would be for the +most part microscopic. The dynamic manifestations in these regions are +very systematic. Some of the strains which have produced this phenomenon +have been infinitesimal, and others have been finite. Only the latter +are here treated. Finite strain, the relations of stress to strain, +the nature of finite shear, viscosity, flow, plasticity, ductility, +and rupture, the relation of plastic solids to fluids, the spacing of +fissures formed by inclined pressures, jointing, and slaty cleavage, +are the chief subjects discussed. The most important result of the +investigation is that jointing, schistosity, and slaty cleavage all imply +relative movement and are thus as truly orogenic as falls of notable +throw. “In the light of this conclusion,” says the author, “it appears +that if one could reproduce the orogeny of the Sierra in a moderate +interval of time on a model made to a scale of one mile to the inch, it +would seem to yield to external and bodily forces much like a mass of +lard of the same dimensions.” + +This pamphlet is neatly got up, and reflects credit upon the author and +publisher. + + μκρκ. + + +DER ECHTE UND DER XENOPHONTISCHE SOKRATES. By _Karl Joël_. Volume I. +Berlin: R. Gaertner. 1893. + +There are two sources from which we have derived the main bulk of +our knowledge concerning Socrates; namely, the writings of Plato and +Xenophon. The former is generally regarded as an idealiser, and the +latter as an historical biographer; for Plato simply uses the impressive +figure of Socrates to expound his own philosophy, while Xenophon, the +general, the politician, the historian, is supposed to give in the +“Memorabilia” a simple and faithful account of what appeared to him +worthy of being preserved. As Xenophon was not a philosopher himself, it +is tacitly assumed that he had no reason to alter, to suppress, or to add +his own personal views to the historical account of the great master whom +he bore in grateful remembrance as a faithful disciple. There are some +other sources; but they are less rich than those of Plato and Xenophon. +Among them must be mentioned several passages in Aristotle, especially in +“Magna Moralia” I, p. 1182, a 15. Our author urges with good reason that +the Xenophontic Socrates is radically different from and even opposed +to the real Socrates, and that we ought to rely more on Aristotle than +on Xenophon. Xenophon’s “Memorabilia,” Karl Joël declares, is not an +historical writing but a _Tendenzschrift_, and we have to be on our guard +wherever Xenophon’s special tendency comes in. + +Socrates is the representative of the philosophical spirit of Attica, +and the character of his teachings may in a word be described as a noble +and sublimated subjectivism. Socrates is a rationalist and as such he +opposes the mysticism of the soothsayer and mantic. He goes so far in his +rationalism as to identify knowledge and virtue. He cannot understand, +from his point of view, (which regards the soul as a rational being +only and leaves out of sight the existence of impulses,) that a man can +knowingly neglect to choose the better thing and choose the worse. Plato, +in order to avoid the error of Socrates, invented the distinction between +the rational and irrational part of the soul and Aristotle criticises +Socrates saying τὰς γὰρ ἀρετὰς ἐπιστήμας ἐποίει. + +The subjectivism of Socrates appears in his trust in the δαιμόνιον, the +divine voice within his soul, his rationalism in his constant request +to gather information before beginning to act. He exhibits in his talks +great irony; for instance, when telling a politician that as a shoemaker +must know his trade before making shoes, so he, the politician, ought to +know _his_ business before undertaking to manage affairs of state. Again +and again he satirises the bungling levity of men who imagine that in the +greatest and gravest things of life they can act without any information. +Both the subjectivism and rationalism of Socrates appear in his constant +inculcation of the Delphian motto “know thyself.” + +What a different character is Xenophon! He was a convinced believer in +manticism. There are more than a hundred passages in his writings in +which not rational forethought but the art of the soothsayer is left +to decide the most important questions of practical life. When the +courageous ten thousand offered him the leadership in their dangerous +retreat, his ambition urged him to accept, but he first asks the God, +and the omens being unfavorable, he refuses. He did not accept the offer +until he had received another more auspicious omen. In the same way +Xenophon acts throughout. All important decisions which prudence would +urge, are made dependent upon sacrifices, dreams, or the flight of birds, +and more than once the safety of the army is greatly endangered by a +fatal passivity caused through unfavorable omens which prevent Xenophon’s +acting with decision at the right moment. It is no exaggeration to +say that these ten thousand Greek soldiers escaped only by good luck +the fate of the Athenian army in Sicily under Nikias. And this man, +a zealous believer in manticism, should be an impartial and reliable +historian of the doctrines of Socrates? The δαιμόνιον of Socrates is +changed into a mystic power, a kind of _spiritus familiaris_. It has +ceased to be the divinity of man’s inner self as which it appears in +Plato’s account, and is represented by Xenophon as some peculiarity of +Socrates which was given him as a special favor by the gods. Socrates +dethroned the old fate that was supposed to rule the affairs of men +and pointed out the importance of knowledge, for through knowledge we +can learn to regulate our fate ourselves. The philosopher who thought +little of well-being, of εὐτυχία, and demanded above all a well-doing, +an εὐ πράττειν (“Memorabilia,” III, 9, 14, 15,) did not recommend asking +soothsayers questions where we should better ask ourselves, although it +is probable that he recommended the Athenians to apply to the Delphic +oracle instead of relying upon omens not so much because he believed in +prophesies, but because he thought that they would be influenced by the +authority of this venerable institution whose wisdom and conservative +spirit were beyond question, so that good advice could be expected from +it. Karl Joël, accordingly, advises us to read the “Memorabilia” with +an inversion of the points, viz., to convert the sentences qualified by +“although” and “to be sure” into the main sentences and _vice versa_. In +this way we shall be able to distinguish between the pagan orthodoxy of +Xenophon and the rationalism of Socrates. Why does Xenophon not state +directly and simply (1) Socrates advised his friend to ask the oracles in +all cases of uncertainty, (2) manticism is indispensable in the economy +of a household as well as of a state, and (3) the gods have not granted +us any real knowledge as to a final success and reveal it through special +revelations. Why must he add long sentences introduced by “although”? +He adds to (1) that everybody ought to act solely according to his own +conviction, to (2) that all the trades up to the highest professions had +to be learned before practiced, and to (3) that those who inquired at the +oracles for things which could be learned and studied in the usual way +are crazy and even blasphemers. + +This sketch may suffice to characterise the book which is much better +than could be anticipated after a perusal of the preface, which almost +induced us to lay it aside unread. It is not the modesty of the author +which produces a prejudice but the random talk concerning things which +neither a reader nor a reviewer will care to know. The author has +apparently no talent for writing prefaces, and he would be wise to omit +them in the future entirely. The book might be very much condensed, +repetitions avoided, and an alphabetical index certainly should have been +added. + +It contains _five hundred and fifty-four_ pages; and the author says he +is preparing a _second_ volume. We think it would have been better for +his views if he had expressed them in a pamphlet. + + κρς. + + +A PERPLEXED PHILOSOPHER. Being an examination of Mr. Herbert Spencer’s +various utterances on the land question, with some incidental reference +to his synthetic philosophy. By _Henry George_. New York: Charles L. +Webster & Company. 320 pp. + +The “Perplexed Philosopher” herein described is Mr. Herbert Spencer, +and persons who like ginger in their ale will enjoy this book; for its +eloquent invective, hot from the heart, cheers us like that stimulating +drink. Because of this fiery and revengeful attack on Herbert Spencer +much dignified reproof has been aimed at Mr. George by those excellent +people who religiously forgive the injuries done to others, and allow +only to themselves the luxury of retaliation; but when we consider the +provocation given by Mr. Spencer, this counter-blow of Mr. George is +mild. Mr. Spencer had a critic’s right severely or tenderly to condemn +the doctrines of Mr. George; and had he kept himself within his privilege +Mr. George in reply would not have had any right to assail the personal +character and motives of Mr. Spencer; but the older philosopher chose +to treat the younger with supercilious disdain, and this was a personal +affront that fully justified a retort personal. Scorn is an ignoble +argument, lawful only in return for scorn. + +Apart from the truth or error they contain, the writings of Mr. George +have achieved a phenomenal popularity; their influence on social opinion +has been in some directions almost revolutionary; they are to-day +the political creed of many men in different parts of the world, and +especially of many thousands in America, Great Britain, and Australia. +They are bold in theories, attractive in illustration, and admirable +in their literary form. Their approval of “Social Statics” was an +advertisement that multiplied by hundreds the readers of that book, and +there is no philosopher great enough to affect ignorance of Mr. George’s +writings, or to dismiss them with a sneer. More copies of “Progress and +Poverty” have been sold than of any other book on social economics that +ever has been written, and when Mr. Spencer spoke of that book as “a +work which I closed after a few minutes on finding how visionary were +its ideas,” he put on airs of aggravating superiority which naturally +provoked the resentment of Mr. George. + +After not reading the book Mr. Spencer condemned its heresies and said: + +“There is the movement for land nationalisation pressed by Mr. George +and his friends with avowed disregard for the just claims of existing +owners.... + +“And now this doctrine (that society as a whole has an absolute right +over the possessions of each member) is being openly proclaimed. Mr. +George and his friends, Mr. Hyndman and his friends, are putting their +theory to its logical issue.” + +To that Mr. George replies as follows: + +“In nothing I have ever written or spoken is there any justification for +such a characterisation. I am not even a land nationalisationist as the +English and German and American nationalisationists well know.... I have +been a staunch denier of the assumption of the right of society to the +possessions of each member, and a clearer and more resolute upholder of +the rights of property than Mr. Spencer has been.” + +Without waiting to inquire whether Mr. George includes within the “rights +of property” the right to property in land, it is enough to say that +here at least Mr. Spencer is at a disadvantage. He disarmed himself +before going into battle by refusing to read Mr. George’s writings, and +scorning to examine them he accused them of communism, confiscation, +and land-nationalisation. Mr. Spencer cannot now strike back for he +has thrown his weapons away. He is a prisoner in the hands of Mr. +George, who couples him with Parson Wilbur denouncing a print called the +_Liberator_, “whose heresies,” he said, “I take every opportunity of +combating, and of which, I thank God, I have never read a single line.” +The parallel is well drawn; and the lesson of it is this, never challenge +a man and then treat him with contempt; if you think he is not a foeman +worthy of your steel, let him alone. + +Had Mr. Spencer studied the works of Mr. Henry George, he would have +found in them some doctrines having a manifest family likeness to +communism, confiscation, and land-nationalisation; but they avail Mr. +Spencer nothing, because he would not condescend to read the chapters +where those revolutionary principles are. If he would bend his brow a +moment and examine them he might find that in this controversy there are +two perplexed philosophers instead of one. In the book before us Mr. +George remarks: + +“It is this confusion of Mr. Spencer as to rent and value that has led +him into confusion as to the right of property; and that, at first, at +least prevented him from seeing that to secure the equal rights of men +to land, _it is not necessary that society should take formal possession +of land, and let it out_, and consequently, that the difficulties he +anticipated in taking possession of improved land were imaginary.” + +But, in “Progress and Poverty,” Chapter II, he said: + +“We should satisfy the law of justice, we should meet all economic +requirements, by at one stroke abolishing all private titles, declaring +all land public property, and _letting it out to the highest bidders in +lots to suit_, under such conditions as would safely guard the right to +improvements.” + +The italics are ours, directing the attention to apparent contradictions +which it is for Mr. George to reconcile. And, if English words have +any meaning, “abolishing all private titles” means confiscation; and +“declaring all land public property and letting it out to the highest +bidders,” is land-nationalisation; at least, the ordinary reader +may innocently think so, yet Mr. George declares that he is not a +land-nationalisationist. + +As a personal defense and explanation Mr. George has a right to say that +he is not a land-nationalisationist, or a communist, or an “ist” of any +other kind, and we are bound to take his word for it, but in this dispute +that matter is wholly immaterial. The question before the meeting is +this, Is Mr. George’s book a land-nationalisationist or is it not? Is it +a confiscationist or not? In “Progress and Poverty” Mr. George explains +his meaning thus: + +“I do not propose either to purchase or to confiscate property in land. +The first would be unjust, the second needless. Let the individuals who +now hold it still retain, if they want to, possession of what they are +pleased to call _their_ land. Let them continue to call it _their_ land. +Let them buy and sell and bequeath and devise it. We may safely leave +them the shell if we take the kernel. _It is not necessary to confiscate +land; it is only necessary to confiscate rent._” + +The italics are by Mr. George; and a little farther on, he says; + +“That is the first step upon which the practical struggle must be made. +When the hare is once caught and killed, cooking him will follow as a +matter of course.” + +And several years afterwards, in “Protection or Free Trade,” page 302, +Mr. George describes the artful mechanism of the snare by which the hare +is to be caught and killed: + +“Now it is evident that, in order to take for the use of the government +the whole income arising from land just as effectively as it could be +taken by formally appropriating and letting out the land, it is only +necessary to abolish, one after another, all taxes now levied, and to +increase the tax on land values till it reaches as near as may be the +full annual value of the land.” + +In that paragraph “government” is merely another word for “nation,” and +the taking away from private owners all the lands of the country “for the +use of the government” is land-nationalisation, whether the taking be +done boldly by imperial decree, or furtively by taxing it up to its “full +value” and out of the hands of its owners. + +The discrimination above made must apply to Herbert Spencer as well as +to Henry George. Mr. Spencer has a right to qualify and explain as much +as he pleases; he may properly say what he thinks now about the right of +land-ownership, but the question at issue is this, What are the opinions +of “Social Statics” upon the land question? Are they not in principle, +and very nearly in expression the opinions of “Progress and Poverty”? + +It is not to be denied that “Progress and Poverty” found moral support +in “Social Statics.” In fact, the disciples of Henry George, whenever +their doctrines were assailed, brought Herbert Spencer into the field as +a reinforcement. This, at last, gave Mr. Spencer great annoyance, and +in a moment of irritation he determined even by a qualified recantation +to withdraw the reserve brigade on which “Progress and Poverty” had so +long depended for assistance. Hence, his letters to the _Times_ and the +_St. James’s Gazette_, and the modification of his views which appears +in “Justice.” He tried to do this by dropping Mr. George to the ground, +while endeavoring to stand on consistent feet himself; and this it is +that inspires the vehement criticism of Mr. George. + +With a scalpel most logically keen Mr. George has dissected Mr. Spencer’s +philosophy of land, and with almost Indian exultation he exposes its +eccentricities and contradictions. As was inevitable, for we cannot +get along without it, the old familiar Galileo moral is brought in by +Mr. George to prove that “still it moves.” He is right; for if it is +ethically and politically true, as declared by Mr. Spencer in 1850, “that +equity does not permit property in land,” it will be true forever, and no +extremity of recantation can make it false. The attempt of Mr. Spencer +to show by duplicate metaphysics that his later opinions concerning land +are not inconsistent with the occult meaning of “Social Statics,” is +a failure. It cannot stand a moment before the searching analysis and +legible comparisons of Mr. George. + +The attempt to resolve a concrete subject, such as government ownership +of land, into abstract terms of justice limited or expanded by the right +of some private person to the house on the land, and the barn, and the +well, and the fences, and the apple-trees, and other appurtenances, +corporeal and incorporeal, has involved Mr. George himself, as well as +Mr. Spencer, in some confusion of thought, and has entangled both of +them in varieties of statement not easy to reconcile. This might be due +to obscure definitions and multiplied explanations, or to changes of +opinion, but Mr. George asserts that Mr. Spencer’s inconsistencies are +the result of moral and intellectual dishonesty, prompting him to explain +away his principles to propitiate the landlords and other aristocratic +persons who admitted him into their high society after he became eminent, +and before they knew that his philosophy denied the right of private +property in land. + +In his letter to the _Times_, apologising for “Social Statics,” Mr. +Spencer said: + +“The work referred to—“Social Statics”—was intended to be a system of +Political Ethics—absolute political ethics, or that which ought to be, as +distinguished from relative political ethics, or that which is at present +the nearest practical approach to it.” + +And then the philosopher becomes a politician and frames for the landed +and the landless a moral code, ambidextrous and elastic as a party +platform. Duty, justice, right, and truth, lose all their absolute +qualities, and become relative to expediency and our own convenience. +He teaches us to oppose wrongs until they become vested rights and then +defend them. He makes ethics changeable as our coats, and the man who can +afford two suits of clothes may have two suits of ethics, an “absolute” +suit for Sundays and a “relative” suit for every day; an “abstract” +suit for wearing about the house, and a “practical” suit for business +purposes. He may wear a suit of “pure” ethics when buying, and a suit +of “applied” ethics when selling; and so, at last, by those harlequin +morals, it happens that what we ought to do has no relation at all to +“that which ought to be.” Those pure subtleties and applied subterfuges +make Mr. Spencer an easy mark for the indignant sarcasm of Mr. George, +who shows what Mr. Spencer thought of absolute and relative ethics when +he said in “Social Statics”: + +“When a man admits that an act is ‘theoretically just,’ he admits it to +be that which, in strict duty, should be done. By ‘true to principle’ he +means in harmony with the conduct decreed for us. The course which he +calls ‘abstractedly right,’ he believes to be the appointed way to human +happiness. There is no escape. The expressions mean this or they mean +nothing.” + +The book is written in an angry vein, and the nicknames “traitor,” +“juggler,” “apostate,” and the like, add nothing to the value of its +argument; they only give bitterness to the censure. They are not to be +commended, although they ought to be excused, for they sprang out of “a +tempest of provocation.” Mr. George has been fighting under the banner of +Herbert Spencer, and he feels like a soldier whose general deserts him in +the battle and then disowns him altogether. + +The only rational explanation of Mr. Spencer’s letters to the _Times_ and +the _St. James’s Gazette_ is that he has radically changed his opinions +about the private ownership of land: and his timid, uncertain, and +equivocal way of saying so makes him look very much like the “perplexed +philosopher” that Mr. George describes. At the same time it must be +noticed that Mr. George himself is not so radical in this last book +as he was in “Progress and Poverty.” His principles appear to be the +same, but in the application of remedies he is milder than he was about +fourteen years ago. When he reaches Mr. Spencer’s age he may be just as +conservative and “perplexed” as that philosopher is now. + + M. M. TRUMBULL. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[85] Mr. Salter’s name for his theory. + +[86] Says Mr. Salter: “Idealism (as here stated) is not, however, itself +a solution, being only a clear statement of what the problem is; and for +all that such idealism can say, the problem may be insoluble.” + + + + +PERIODICALS. + + +ZEITSCHRIFT FÜR PSYCHOLOGIE UND PHYSIOLOGIE DER SINNESORGANE. + +CONTENTS: Vol. IV. Nos. 4 and 5. + + DIE GRUNDEMPFINDUNGEN IN NORMALEN UND ANOMALEN FARBENSYSTEMEN + UND IHRE ITENSITÄTSVERTEILUNG IM SPEKTRUM. By _Arthur König and + Conrad Dieterici_. + + IST EINE CEREBRALE ENTSTEHUNG VON SCHWEBUNGEN MÖGLICH? By _Karl + L. Schaefer_. + + UEBER EINIGE NEUERE FORTSCHRITTE IN DER ANATOMIE UND + PHYSIOLOGIE DER ARTHROPODENAUGEN. By _Sigmund Fuchs_. + + LITTERATURBERICHT. + +CONTENTS: Vol. IV. No. 6. + + DAS TAPETUM LUCIDUM BEI DURCHLEUCHTUNG DES AUGES. By _Ziem_. + + BERICHTIGUNG ZU PROFESSOR MÜNSTERBERGS BEITRÄGEN ZUR + EXPERIMENTELLEN PSYCHOLOGIE, HEFT 4. By _G. E. Müller_. + + LITTERATURBERICHT. (Hamburg and Leipsic: Leopold Voss.) + + +PHILOSOPHISCHE MONATSHEFTE. + +CONTENTS: Vol. XXIX. No. 3 and 4. + + DIE ÄLTESTE FASSUNG VON MELANCHTHONS ETHIK. By _H. Heineck_. + + DIE MODERNE ENERGETIK IN IHRER BEDEUTUNG FÜR DIE + ERKENNTNISSKRITIK, II. By _K. Lasswitz_. + + DIE SITTLICHE FRAGE EINE SOCIALE FRAGE, II. By _F. Staudinger_. + + JOHANN EDUARD ERDMANN. By _B. Erdmann_. + + LITTERATURBERICHT. (Berlin: Dr. R. Salinger.) + + +VIERTELJAHRSSCHRIFT FÜR WISSENSCHAFTLICHE PHILOSOPHIE. + +CONTENTS: Vol. XVI. No. 4. + + DIE STATISCHEN FUNCTIONEN DES OHRLABYRINTHES UND IHRE + BEZIEHUNGEN ZU DEN RAUMEMPFINDUNGEN. (Part I.) By _R. Wlassak_. + + UEBER VERSCHMELZUNG UND ANALYSE. Eine psychologische Studie. + (Part I.) By _H. Cornelius_. + + DIE WICHTIGKEIT DER REPRODUCTIONSGEFÜHLE FÜR DIE ENTWICKLUNG + UND BILDUNG DES MENSCHEN. By _J. Zahlfleisch_. + +CONTENTS: Vol. XVII. No. 1. + + UEBER DEN BEGRIFF DER WISSENSCHAFT BEI GALILEI. By _A. Riehl_. + + DIE STATISCHEN FUNCTIONEN DES OHRLABYRINTHES UND IHRE + BEZIEHUNGEN ZU DEN RAUMEMPFINDUNGEN. (Concluded.) By _R. + Wlassak_. + + UEBER VERSCHMELZUNG UND ANALYSE. Eine psychologische Studie. + (Concluded.) By _H. Cornelius_. + + WERTHTHEORIE UND ETHIK. (Part I.) By _Chr. Ehrenfels_. + + A. VOIGT’S “ELEMENTARE LOGIK” UND MEINE DARLEGUNGEN ZUR LOGIK + DES LOGISCHEN CALCULS. By _E. G. Husserl_. (Leipsic: O. R. + Reisland.) + + +ZEITSCHRIFT FÜR PHILOSOPHIE UND PHILOSOPHISCHE KRITIK. + +CONTENTS: Vol. CI. No. 2. + + DOXOGRAPHISCHES ZUR LEHRE VOM ΤΈΛΟΣ. By _A. Döring_. + + ERNST PLATNER’S UND KANT’S ERKENNTNISSTHEORIE MIT BESONDERER + BERÜCKSICHTIGUNG VON TETENS UND AENESIDEMUS. By _Dr. Arthur + Wreschner_. + + JAHRESBERICHT ÜBER ERSCHEINUNGEN DER PHILOSOPHISCHEN LITTERATUR + IN FRANZÖSISCHER SPRACHE AUS DEN JAHREN 1889 UND 1890. By + _Adolph Lasson_. + + RECENSIONEN. (Leipsic: C. E. M. Pfeffer.) + + +THE AMERICAN JOURNAL OF PSYCHOLOGY. + +CONTENTS: Vol. V. No. 2. + + ON THE DEVELOPMENT OF VOLUNTARY MOTOR ABILITY. By _Wm. L. + Bryan_. + + THE TRAINING OF ANIMALS. By _James E. LeRossignol_, Ph. D. + + ON THE JUDGMENT OF ANGLES AND POSITIONS OF LINES. By _Joseph + Jastrow_, Ph. D. + + STATISTICS OF “UNCONSCIOUS CEREBRATION.” By _Charles M. Child_. + + EXPERIMENTAL PSYCHOLOGY AT WELLESLEY COLLEGE. By _Mary Whiton + Calkins_. (Worcester: J. H. Orpha.) + + +INTERNATIONAL JOURNAL OF ETHICS. + +CONTENTS: Vol. III. No. 2. + + THE ETHICS OF SOCIAL PROGRESS. _Prof. Franklin H. Giddings._ + + DID THE ROMANS DEGENERATE? By _Mary Emily Case_. + + POLITICAL ECONOMY AND PRACTICAL LIFE. By _Prof. William + Cunningham_. + + GERMAN CHARACTER AS REFLECTED IN THE NATIONAL LIFE AND + LITERATURE. By _Richard M. Meyer_, Ph. D. + + BOOK REVIEWS. (Philadelphia: _International Journal of Ethics_, + 118 South Twelfth Street.) + + +THE PHILOSOPHICAL REVIEW. + +CONTENTS: Vol. II. No. 1. + + THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. By _Prof. Otto Pfleiderer_. + + AN ANCIENT PESSIMIST. By _Prof. J. Clark Murray_. + + THE CONCEPT OF LAW IN ETHICS. By _Prof. F. C. French_. + + J. H. LAMBERT. By _Harold Griffing_. + +CONTENTS: Vol. II. No. 2. + + KANT’S CRITICAL PROBLEM. By _J. G. Schurman_. + + EPISTEMOLOGY IN LOCKE AND KANT. By _Prof. Andrew Seth_. + + ANTHROPOMETRY AND EXPERIMENTAL PSYCHOLOGY. By _Prof. E. B. + Titchener_. + + DISCUSSIONS: Reality and Idealism. By _David G. Ritchie_ and + _F. C. S. Schiller_. + + BOOK REVIEWS. (Boston, New York, Chicago: Ginn & Company.) + + +THE NEW WORLD. + +CONTENTS: Vol. II. No. 5. + + THE PLACE OF THE FOURTH GOSPEL IN THE NEW TESTAMENT LITERATURE. + By _Orello Cone_. + + THE FOLK-SONG OF ISRAEL IN THE MOUTH OF THE PROPHETS. By _Karl + Budde_. + + COSMOPOLITAN RELIGION. By _C. A. Bartol_. + + THE ALLEGED SOCIALISM OF THE PROPHETS. By _A. W. Benn_. + + WHITTIER’S SPIRITUAL CAREER. By _John W. Chadwick_. + + THE PERSONAL FACTOR IN BIBLICAL INSPIRATION. By _Marvin R. + Vincent_. + + ISRAEL IN EGYPT. By _C. H. Toy_. + + THE BRIGGS HERESY TRIAL. By _C. R. Gillett_. (Boston: Houghton, + Mifflin & Co.) + + +REVUE PHILOSOPHIQUE. + +CONTENTS: Vol. XVII. No. 12. + + LE MOUVEMENT PHILOSOPHIQUE EN RUSSIE: II. LA PHILOSOPHIE DE + HEGEL ET LES CERCLES PHILOSOPHIQUES. By _E. Lannes_. + + LA COMPOSITION MUSICALE ET LES LOIS GÉNÉRALES DE LA + PSYCHOLOGIE. By _M. Paulhan_. + + LA PSYCHOLOGIE DE W. JAMES (2nd article). By _L. Marillier_. + + ANALYSES ET COMPTES RENDUS. + +CONTENTS: Vol. XVIII. No. 1. + + LA PSYCHOLOGIE DE W. JAMES (3d article). By _L. Marillier_. + + LA CROYANCE MÉTAPHYSIQUE. By _J. Gourd_. + + LA BEAUTÉ PLASTIQUE. By _L. Couturat_. + + ANALYSES ET COMPTES RENDUS. + +CONTENTS: Vol. XVIII. No. 2. + + L’UNITÉ DE LA PHILOSOPHIE. By _P. Janet_. + + L’EXPRESSION OBJECTIVE EN MUSIQUE D’APRÈS LE LANGAGE + INSTINCTIF. By _J. Combarieu_. + + LA PSYCHOLOGIE DE W. JAMES. (Concluded.) By _L. Marillier_. + + REVUE DES PÉRIODIQUES ÉTRANGERS. (Paris: Félix Alcan.) + +CONTENTS: Vol. XVIII. No. 3. + + RECHERCHES SUR LA SUCCESSION DES PHÉNOMÈNES PSYCHOLOGIQUES. By + _B. Bourdon_. + + L’AMOUR EST-IL UN ÉTAT PATHOLOGIQUE? By _G. Danville_. + + SUR UN EFFET PARTICULIER DE L’ATTENTION APPLIQUÉE AUX IMAGES. + By _André Lalande_. + + BEAUTÉ ORGANIQUE ET BEAUTÉ PLASTIQUE. By _A. Naville_. + + +REVUE DE MÉTAPHYSIQUE ET DE MORALE. + +CONTENTS: Vol. I. No. 1. + + MÉTAPHYSIQUE ET MORALE. By _Félix Ravaisson_. + + LE CONTINU MATHÉMATIQUE. By _H. Poincaré_. + + ESSAI SUR QUELQUES PROBLÈMES DE PHILOSOPHIE PREMIÈRE. By _F. + Rauh_. (Paris: Librairie Hachette et Cie.) + + +VOPROSUI FILOSOFII I PSICHOLOGII.[87] + +CONTENTS: Vol. III. No. 15. + + THE AIM OF HUMAN LIFE. By _W. Rosanoff_. + + THE PROBLEM OF JUDGMENT. By _F. Charitonoff_. + + THE POSITIVISM OF KANT. By _A. Kozloff_. + + THE BASIS OF THE MORAL DUTY. By _N. Grote_. + + A CRITICISM OF MORAL ALTRUISM. By _W. Preobrajensky_. + + THE SENSE OF LOVE. By _W. Solowoff_. + + THE FOUNDER OF TRANSCENDENTAL MONISM. By _A. Wedensky_. + + THE SECOND INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS OF EXPERIMENTAL PSYCHOLOGY IN + LONDON. By _W. Chige_. + + THE QUESTION OF ZOÖPSYCHOLOGY. By _W. Wagner_. + + THE LAW OF PERCEPTION. By _N. Lange_. (Moscow, 1892.) + + +PHILOSOPHISCHES JAHRBUCH. + +CONTENTS: Vol. VI. No. 1. + + UEBER DIE ACTUALE BESTIMMTHEIT DES UNENDLICH KLEINEN. By + _Pohle_. + + GASSENDI’S SKEPTICISMUS UND SEINE STELLUNG ZUM MATERIALISMUS. + By _Kiefl_. + + DER BEGRIFF DES “WAHREN.” By _Franz Schmid_. + + DER BEGRIFF DES UNBEWUSSTEN IN PSYCHOLOGISCHER UND + ERKENNTNISSTHEORETISCHER HINSICHT BEI ED. V. HARTMANN. By + _Achelis_. + + DER SUBSTANZBEGRIFF BEI CARTESIUS IM ZUSAMMENHANG MIT DER + SCHOLASTISCHEN UND NEUEREN PHILOSOPHIE. (Continued.) By _Carl + Ludewig_, S. J. (Fulda, 1893.) + + +SPHINX. + +CONTENTS: Vol. XV. No. 84. + + NIRWANA. By _Menetos_.—DIE WIEDERVERKÖRPERUNGSLEHRE IM DRAMA. + By _Ludwig Deinhard_.—DIE GNADE. By _Maria Janitschek_.—DAS + FERNSEHEN ALS FUNKTION DES TRANSSCENDENTALEN SUBJEKTS. + By _Carl du Prel_, Ph. D. (Concluded.)—AN CARL DU PREL. + By _Martin Greif_.—SEHEN UND WAHRTRÄUMEN. By _Hermann + Haug_.—UEBER DIE SPIRITISTISCHEN PHÄNOMENE VOM PHYSIKALISCHEN + STANDPUNKT. By _Dr. Anton Lampa_.—SCHULD UND SÜHNE. Ein + Beitrag zur Frage der Telepathie. By _M. Const. Hoch_. + (Concluded.)—DIE GÖTTIN DES GENUSSES. Eine Traumphantasie. + By _Karl Friedr. Jordan_.—FEGFEUER. Nach François Coppée. + By _Rudolf Geering_.—GERETTET! By _Raphael von Koeber_, Ph. + D.—MELANCHOLIE. By _Carl Vanselow_.—DIE SECHS SCHWÄNE. Ein + Beitrag zum Nachweis des Esoterismus im Volksbewusstsein. + By _Gottschalk Thorsten_.—GEHEIMNISS. By _Adolf K. W. + Hochenegg_.—EINE GEISTERSTIMME. By _Hugo Gozdawa_.—DER BEGRIFF + DES ABSOLUTEN. By _O. Plümacher_. + +CONTENTS: Vol. XVI, No. 85. + + LEBE DEINEM HÖCHSTEN IDEAL GETREU!—A-U-M. By + _Menetos_.—PSALMEN. By _Franz Evers_.—MEISTER DER MYSTIK. + By _Wilhelm von Saintgeorge_.—AEGYPTENS GROSSE PYRAMIDE. + Ein Tempel der Einweihung in die Mysterien. By _Eduard + Maitland_.—DIE DEUTSCHE GESELLSCHAFT FÜR ETHISCHE KULTUR UND + HERR VON EGIDY. By _Hugo von Gizycki_.—DIE MYSTIK DES ISLAM. By + _Adolf Engelbach_.—EIN ECHTER DIENER GOTTES. By _Dr. Raphael + von Koeber_.—EIN GEGNER DES SPIRITISMUS. By _Carl du Prel_.—DIE + WISSENSCHAFT DER MAGIER. By _Ludwig Deinhard_.—HEBE DICH + WEG VON MIR, SATAN! By _H. v. M._—ANNA HENLE. Ein Erlebnis. + By _Hübbe-Schleiden_.—DER STERN DER SINTFLUT. By _Arthur + Stentzel_.—SELIGE GEGENWART. By _Maria Janitschek_.—SEHNSUCHT. + By _Carl Vanselow_.—DAS ELFLEIN, DAS AUSGING, DEN KÖNIG ZU + SUCHEN. By _Bernhard Fabler_.—DER BLINDE PASSAGIER. By _Ludwig + Ganghofer_.—FRÜHLINGS ERWACHEN. Für Väter und Erzieher. By _O. + Plümacher_.—DREI KNOSPEN. By _Hans von Mosch_. (Brunswick: C. + A. Schwetschke & Son.) + +We cannot be accused of having any penchant for Theosophy or Spiritualism +and find little occasion to praise their productions, which are usually +crude and illiterate. But we must confess that Hübbe-Schleiden’s review, +the _Sphinx_, is greatly superior to anything in this field we have +ever seen. There is artistic taste about it; there is, so far as its +position admits of, a certain contact with positive science; there is an +attractive popularity without shallowness. All these means are skilfully +employed by the editor to impress his ideas, erroneous though they may +be, upon his public. If the magazine appeared in English, instead of +German, it would at once become the recognised leader in its field. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[87] _Questions of Philosophy and Psychology._ + + + + + VOL. III. JULY, 1893. NO. 4. + + THE MONIST. + + + + +NATIONALISATION OF EDUCATION AND THE UNIVERSITIES.[88] + + +A little more than a century ago it was universally believed that, in the +nature of things, the vitality of a republic and its size stand in an +inverse ratio. The inadaptability of a republican system of government to +a state of vast territorial expanse and with a very numerous population +was considered an almost axiomatic, i. e. self-evident, truth. When the +thirteen English colonies in North America had taken the bold resolution +to transform themselves into the United States of America, many an ardent +patriot often asked himself, not free from anxious foreboding, whether +the Union was within the limits laid down by irreversible political laws, +as the utmost extent of republics fit to endure. If it had not been +for the size of the country, the doubts as to whether the republican +experiment was likely to prove a success, would never have assumed a +character, which gave sufficient color to the charge of monarchical +tendencies, to make them appear well-founded in the eyes of so many +people. When afterwards a new empire was to be added to the Union by the +Louisiana purchase, the doubt, as to whether the republican system of +government would be equal to the strain put upon it by such an immense +enlargement of the area of the United States, played a not unimportant +part among the objections of the opposition. That experience has +definitively disposed of these ideas, by proving the apprehensions to +be unfounded, is no reason to think meanly of the political discernment +of those who entertained them. It will not be universally admitted, that +experience has thus far proved them to be wholly unfounded also as to +consolidated republics. And how can it be wondered at, that at that time +the essential difference was not fully realised and understood, which +exists between a federal and a consolidated republic with regard to the +peculiar dangers and evils apt to arise from this specific cause. Though +republican federations had been known to the world for two thousand +years, no instruction was to be derived from their history on this head. +As to the extent of territory, the consolidated Roman republic, which +had consumed its vitality with its growth, could alone be compared with +the United States; and as to many of the essential features of their +political structure, neither modern nor ancient history furnished an +analogy. In the soil of the New World, the germs of European institutions +had—adapting themselves to the new conditions—developed into a new type +of commonwealth. + +It is conceded on all sides that, next to the capacity of the American +people for self-government, the United States owe it primarily to the +happy blending of the principles of National Union and State Independence +that, taking all in all, hitherto their history has been the most +striking and convincing vindication of republican institutions; and +it is hardly questioned that, but for the happy blending of these two +principles, a republic comprising half the North American continent and +possessed of all the requisites of vitality never would nor could have +existed. Upon their being “an indestructible Union of indestructible +States,” the vitality of the United States absolutely depends. That, +with this principle as the foundation, the domain of a republic _can_ +be almost indefinitely extended, without thereby destroying its vital +energies, has been irrefutably demonstrated. But does that mean, that +the United States have definitively solved the problem of keeping the +vital forces of a republic covering a vast area unimpaired? By no means. +Only the preliminary question has been settled by them for all time to +come, what the indispensable prerequisite of its solution is, and they +have thus far succeeded in preserving their vitality. But even as to +themselves, the solution of the problem itself has to be repeated over +and over again, not only by generation after generation, but every year +and every day. The hour never will, never can come, when the American +people can, with impunity, say: the task is accomplished; let us rest +and enjoy the fruits. It never can come, because the problem itself is +in a continuous state of transformation. Though the changes be so slow, +that they are imperceptible to the keenest eye trying to follow them up +from year to year, they are none the less real, and if they are not duly +heeded, the penalty will have to be paid some time in one way or another. +While the fundamental principle, the blending of National Union and +State Independence, is irreversible, the attempt to make its application +immutable, would be fatal. I say the attempt, for actually to do it, is, +in the nature of things, impossible. The American people are not only +constitutionally a nation. The civil war did not result in the permanent +disruption of the Union, but in welding it more indissolubly together, +because, with the single exception of slavery, the facts coincided with +the law. In spite of the tremendous sectionalising influence exercised +by slavery, the nationalisation in feeling, thinking, and interests had +made such progress under the operation and protection of the law of the +land, that it could stand as severe a test, as any consolidated State can +boast of having stood. The causes, to which it was due, that the facts +were in conformity with the law, have been ever since unremittingly at +work,—the counter-tendencies have disappeared with the abolishment of +slavery,—and, independent of that, those causes are every year acquiring +a greater force. The actual nationalisation, therefore, goes steadily on, +whether we like it or not, and though the constitutional nationalisation +be allowed to remain unchanged. While the legal status under the +Constitution may not be altered for ever so long, we are confronted by +constantly changing conditions. If we do not conform in what we do and +leave undone to the irrepressible changes of this evolutionary process, +the maintenance of the principle of blending National Union and State +Independence will avail us but little. The vital energies will dry up +and ebb away, for while we have kept the form, we have become strangers +to the spirit which renders it a magic force. Nor ought the dividing +line between political parties to run, as in days of yore, on the +question of State rights and consolidation. All discriminating patriots +must be as well State rights men as consolidationists, respectively +conscious supporters and promoters of further nationalisation. Where and +how ought State independence to be strengthened, so as to prevent an +over-consolidation by the silent working of those nationalising causes, +which it is impossible to stem? and: Where and how ought consolidation, +respectively nationalisation, to be promoted, in order to make the +working of those nationalising causes conducive to the true interests +of the people and to the invigorating of republican institutions? These +are the two questions which the American people have constantly to ask +themselves. On the discretion and discernment displayed in trying to find +the correct answers must it depend, whether the federative principle will +work as well in the future, as it has done in the past. + +If these propositions must be admitted, it can be proved that in no +respect is conscious and systematic nationalisation more imperatively +needed than in regard to education. At first sight this assertion may +seem worse than extravagant. I am, however, not afraid to submit my case +to the jury of the American people, if I am but conceded the legal right +of every criminal, to be heard ere I am judged. + +Education is the bed-rock on which this republic rests. However +excellent its political institutions be, its decay and ultimate +downfall is inevitable, if the people fail to do their full duty by +themselves in this respect. For, in a democratic republic, political +institutions are live forces only so far as the people have the mental +and moral requirements for working them well, and these mental and moral +requirements can be attained only by education. It is, therefore, in the +strictest sense of the word, a _vital_ question for the republic that +every one of its sons and daughters receive not only some schooling, but +that the education of all be proper and adequate. That is a tremendous +task. It constantly grows in scope and intricacy, and at the same time, +it becomes of more and more import that it be well accomplished. With +the people rests the ultimate decision in everything, and the problems +confronting the commonwealth are assuming more and more a character, +taxing the highest statesmanship to the utmost. Thus the claims upon +the intelligence and the moral soundness of the people are fast being +strained far beyond anything ever known by any former generation in this +or any other country. And lack of the required intelligence and moral +soundness in any one State necessarily affects the whole Union. A State +that is derelict to its duty in the education of its people, wrongs not +only itself, but also the nation. By its share in the federal government, +every State is directly instrumental in laying down the law for the whole +country. All the States are thereby made to participate in the payment +of the penalty for its intellectual and moral deficiencies. This is, +however, by no means the only way in which they are made to suffer by +them. What the law does with regard to everything rendered federal by the +Constitution; commerce, travel, and interchange of population do in other +respects. They are unremittingly and with ever increasing intensity at +work, multiplying and rendering more close the organic relations between +all the parts of the vast domain, every water-way, railroad-track, and +telegraph line performing the functions of the veins in the animal +organism. If the blood be poisoned in one limb, the virus cannot be +prevented from working its way into the whole system. + +To admit that education is in the highest degree a national +_interest_, and to deny its being a national _concern_, is, however, a +self-contradiction. To contest either the right or the duty of a nation +to acknowledge every national interest a national concern, and to deal +with it accordingly, is a palpable absurdity. Not as to the Whether, but +only as to the How, can the people be restricted by the Constitution. A +constitution imposing upon the people an injunction to minister to the +needs of the commonwealth, would be as great a political monstrosity as a +constitution providing for the dissolution of the state. + +This doctrine will not be allowed to pass unchallenged. I shall be +asked whether I set myself against the universally accepted fundamental +principle of American constitutional law, that the federal government +has no powers but those granted to it by the Constitution. I do not. +“Where, then,” my interlocutor will go on, “do you find the express grant +or the implied power?” Nowhere. “Then you advocate a constitutional +amendment to the effect indicated by you?” I do not. I know that such an +amendment could not get the vote of a single state, and if there were a +possibility of its being adopted by the constitutional number of states, +I should be found, to the last, among those fighting it tooth and nail. +I can hardly conceive of a more suicidal measure than the adoption of +such an amendment. Just because education is the bed-rock on which the +republic rests, is it of vital importance that it does not become a +federal affair. Self-reliance and responsibility are the main pillars +supporting a democratic commonwealth. Kill, in the people of a state +and the population of its subdivisions, the habit of self-reliance and +the sense of responsibility in regard to the substratum of the whole +political and social structure, and they will wither and shrivel up in +regard to everything else. The compulsion to tax themselves directly for +the establishment and maintenance of schools and the being in close touch +with those entrusted with the direction of the educational work are an +inestimable boon to the people. + +Even if it were economically possible to do without direct taxes, +political reasons would peremptorily forbid their abolishment. On +account of their moral effect, no state could dispense with them, and +least of all a democracy. All indirect taxes are paid more or less +unconsciously; the people, however, must be kept conscious that the +public purse means their own pockets. The more they lose sight of +this, the wider the door is opened to paternalism, and paternalism is +a more deadly enemy of liberty than despotism and tyranny. These, if +any vitality be left in the people, ultimately kindle the desire for +liberty, while paternalism acts upon it as an opiate and ends by killing +it through the systematic enervation of self-government. If this is +to be kept alive not only in form, but also in essence and in spirit, +the people must constantly be held to teach themselves in illustrating +by their own acts the irrefutable truth, that not the rights, but the +self-imposed duties are the vital principle of true democracy. Nothing, +however, is more apt to drive this all-important fact irresistibly +home, implanting it ineradicably in their whole feeling and in their +conscious thinking, than the necessity to vote, as directly as possible, +out of their own pockets the money required for preserving intact and +in vigor the prerequisite of _all_ that is needed for the preservation +of the nation’s vitality. If it be not deemed irreverent, I should +say that every dollar a man voluntarily votes out of his pocket to +provide for the educational needs of the community, preaches to him a +political “Sermon on the Mount.” “Liberty and self-government,” it says, +“must be paid for;—state and society are in their very essence ethical +conceptions;—they must totter, fall, and crumble to pieces, unless +they rest on an ethical foundation;—to preserve, broaden, and deepen +this foundation, by providing for the required intellectual and moral +equipment of the generations in whose hands the future destinies of the +commonwealth will lie, is the paramount duty of the people;—no one has +the right to exempt himself from doing his share in the fulfilment of +this duty, for the heirloom of the past, enjoyed by the present, is but a +trust to be left, with accrued interest, to the future;—the fulfilment of +this duty ought to be considered rather a privilege than a sacrifice, for +every farthing paid for the maintenance of the humblest village school is +an integral part of the nation’s life-insurance premium;—glory in this +responsibility to the whole country, for it constitutes you, with the +wealthiest and mightiest, a joint builder of its greatness;—glory in thus +bearing witness by the fruit of the sweat of your brow, that you, too, +are sworn in on the creed that man does not live by bread alone;—glory in +and render thanks for being thus held to keep ablaze in your own bosom +and help kindle in the bosom of the lowliest child of the community, the +sacred fire of idealism.” + +That by many, perhaps by most people, this appeal is not heard in +distinct words, I do not contest. But that is no reason to make light of +it. Utterly lost it never is. Something of it sinks into the mind even +of the dullest and most hard-hearted, though it be but in the form of +a faint and vague feeling. To make them lose this, is to deprive them +of the best they have. Democracy is not a mill-pond, on which a fragile +boat can outride the wildest tempest. It is the open sea, on which the +proudest and stoutest craft is sure to be swamped, sooner or later, +if it be not properly ballasted. True idealism, however, never was a +more essential part of the ballast, than in these times and in this +country. It stands more in need of it than any other state, because its +unparalleled opportunities are appallingly powerful incentives to plunge +headlong into the materialistic tendencies of the age. Therefore, it is +ruthless to lay hands on anything tending to keep alive and foster true +idealism in the people. For this reason it would be, in my opinion,—not +in intention, but in effect,—a dastardly crime, under any plea whatever, +to release the people from the obligation to provide in their local +organisations for the education of their youths. + +Therefore, I even deem it upon the whole more beneficial than detrimental +that many of the higher and most of the highest educational institutions +of the country are the free gift of high-minded men and women to the +people. I have never agreed with those who have contended in this country +that the duty of the commonwealth does not extend beyond providing for +primary and, at the most, to some extent for secondary education, and +that it would not be fair and proper to tax all for the establishment +and maintenance of colleges and universities, which, in the nature of +the case, only a small minority can frequent. It would be hard to name +a more promising sign of the times, than that this doctrine has of late +lost so much of its former hold upon public opinion, that one would +have to search long for an advocate of it in its original rigor. It +is eminently in the interest of all, that there be an ample number of +men and women who have received the highest education. Therefore, it +is evidently not only justified, but imperative, that the commonwealth +furnish the means for supplying its want. But if the views held in this +respect on the continent of Europe had prevailed in the United States, +the American people would have been the poorer of one of the vastest and +most grateful fields for manifesting idealistic public-spiritedness. An +inestimable loss, for idealistic public-spiritedness is not the least of +the causes to which it is due that American democracy has stood the test; +and idealistic public-spiritedness, like every virtue, grows stronger and +more fruitful by being practised. Every donation for educational purposes +prompts others to follow suit, and is, apart from its direct beneficent +effects, a most valuable object-lesson to the whole nation. With equal +impressiveness, the rich and the poor are reminded of the treasures which +“neither moth nor rust doth corrupt.” On every educational institution +brought into existence in such a way are indelibly inscribed the two +magic words to which this country owes it greatness: Help yourself, +and Public Spirit; every one of them is a living protest, as well +against paternalism—whether it present itself in the socialistic or +in any other garb—as against the setting up of the golden calf as the +idol of the republic. Therefore, everything tending to seriously check +these manifestations of idealism and public spirit in regard to higher +education would be deplorable, even if it were in itself commendable, for +paternalism and materialism are too rampant to leave anything undone that +is calculated to keep them down. + +To contend that the existing decentralisation in regard to education must +be done away with, would, for these reasons, be a truly Quixotic charge +upon windmills: the venture must result in broken bones. It cannot, and, +if it could, ought not to be done, for this decentralisation is the +natural outgrowth of the whole historical development of the commonwealth +and in perfect accordance with the underlying principle of its political +and social structure. But it would be strange logic to conclude from +this that it can have worked no harm, or that the evil consequences it +may have had cannot be remedied. Can it be denied that, apart from the +primary schools, it sounds almost like mockery to speak of an American +system of education? If we look at the schools of a higher grade, we are +confronted by a bewildering chaos, and the nearer the top, the worse the +confusion becomes. That the effects of this are not altogether good, will +be universally admitted, though opinions will differ as to the weight +that ought to be attached to the bad consequences in the aggregate and +severally. To me, some of them seem to be of a very serious character, +and I hold that they must from year to year become of more consequence. +To say that somebody has been through a “high school,” does not convey +sufficiently definite information as to either the kind or the amount of +instruction he has received. To know that somebody is a graduate of an +“academy,” a “college,” a “university,” means to know next to nothing as +to his mental equipment. To gauge our man, we must inquire, What academy, +what college, what university? Having learned that, we are in hundreds +of cases not a whit wiser than before. We have to ask for the calendar +of the institution, and, after having read that, we shall often be still +pretty much at sea, for, as the Germans say, “paper is patient,” and the +printing of a first-class programme implies by no means of necessity +first-class instruction. This may be considered by some of little or no +moment, because the degrees confer no rights whatever. But they are, +nevertheless, not senseless gewgaws. If they be deemed such, their +abolishment must be insisted upon, for then they are as much out of place +in this country as orders or other meaningless titles. They are intended +to be certificates of knowledge and mental training. If they lose this +character, they are nothing, or worse than nothing. It is, however, +self-evident that they must be deprived of this character, exactly to +the extent that the educational institutions bearing the same name and +conferring the same degrees differ from each other. Do you not think it +more than likely that, if a law were passed making it obligatory to add +to the letters indicating a degree the name of the institution by which +it was conferred, an astounding number of ornamental tails to names would +be cut off forever? + +This would not be done, if the degrees merely failed to be definite and +reliable certificates of knowledge and mental training. They do positive +harm, because the institutions conferring them have little more in common +than the name, their educational standard differing in the extremes, +as much as the crippled shrub and the sturdy oak. While the public do +not know what value to attach to the degree, a large percentage of the +recipients are betrayed into offensive and pernicious self-deception. +Upon the official averment of their _alma mater_, they lay the flattering +unction to their soul that they have received a much better intellectual +outfit than they really possess. These institutions practically reverse +the precept of the Greek sage: not “know thyself,” but “deceive thyself” +is the maxim imprinted on their diplomas. And this self-deception is a +subtle, contagious virus. It is at least doubtful, whether more will +take warning by looking through the false pretense, or be lured by it +into the same mistaken notions as to the requirements of genuine higher +education. To have practically no fixed standards for the different +grades of higher education must as inevitably have mischievous effects +upon the intellectual life of a people, as its economic life must be +demoralised by allowing everybody to coin money of the same outward +appearance, but of any alloy he pleases. Not that harm has been done by +the almost unlimited freedom enjoyed by the educational institutions +owing their existence to private munificence, is to be wondered at; it +is astonishing that the deleterious effects have not been much worse. +A premium is offered for sailing under a false flag. If a college may +be called a university, and an academy a college, it would be more +than surprising if the grander name were not frequently preferred, for +it flatters alike the vanity of the donors, the instructors, and the +pupils, and will—with more or less reason—be expected to work as a bait. +With the name goes the right to confer degrees, and the exercising of +this privilege is to serve the same purposes. But the name renders it +necessary to keep up appearances, and that is an expensive pleasure. The +masquerading in a pretentious guise cuts down the allowance of wholesome +food. Worthless universities instead of good colleges, inferior colleges +instead of satisfactory academies and fitting schools, are but too often +the result. No name will deprive the rose of its sweet scent; but the +buttercup cannot, with impunity, call itself a rose. + +The worst, however, is, that even the best institutions of the higher +order are made to pay a heavy penalty for the shortcomings of those of +the lower rank. Not getting the proper material, they do not turn out +as good work as they in themselves might do. Much valuable time, which +ought to be devoted to going on with the building, must be spent in +mending and strengthening the deficient foundation, which, after all, +does not acquire the requisite solidity, because mending is necessarily +patchwork. Nor is the damage confined to the pupils that have been sent +up from inefficient schools. These act as a drag upon those who have +come adequately prepared. To render matters worse, the deficiencies are +neither the same with all, nor is it known beforehand where they will be +found and how far they will extend. Neither are the curricula the same, +nor is there any guaranty that the same curriculum means the same work +done. Here so many things have been taught, that everything has suffered +in regard to thoroughness. There, specialisation has commenced so early, +that the basis is too narrow and too shallow. Training for a special +purpose has encroached upon education. All these difficulties greatly +hamper the institution. But they do more. They exercise a strong pressure +upon it to stray from the right path, for they are powerful incentives to +yield to the evil tendency, more to measure, than to weigh the work done. +This is, in my opinion, the most deplorable of all the bad consequences +which the lack of a uniform system, resulting from the decentralisation +of education, has thus far had; and it is all the more dangerous, because +the measuring principle is so well fitted to be clad in the seductive +garb of a lucid and clear-cut system. + +I do not expect that every one of my propositions will be universally +assented to. But can any unprejudiced observer dispute that there is +enough truth in what I have said to prompt the people seriously to +ponder the question, where this is going to end? If no conscious, +energetic, and concerted effort be made to counteract the evil effects +of decentralisation, the very fact of higher education having assumed +such a kaleidoscopic character renders inevitable its becoming more +and more kaleidoscopic. The founders, boards of trustees, presidents, +and faculties of new institutions are almost compelled to give their +individual notions on higher education, to a dangerous extent, +free scope. Having a hundred different patterns presented to their +consideration, the temptation is well-nigh irresistible not to adopt any +one of them, but to devise a new one. A new experimenting laboratory is +set up. That its experiments will be, positively or negatively, of some +value, is to be supposed. In most cases, however, the public interest +would have been better served by a good factory, renouncing the risky +ambition of dabbling with new inventions. + +A European is struck with wonderment that, considering the extent to +which decentralisation in higher education has been carried, not +infinitely more harm has been done, and that the harm it does, seems to +impress the Americans comparatively so little. Neither can be understood, +unless one fully realises to what a degree the American commonwealth +is still in its formative period, and what an astounding educational +power there is in American life. To the former it is principally due, +that the deleterious effects mentioned are here in fact of much less +consequence, than they would be, where the advantages of an historical +development, counting by more than centuries, are paid for by the +rigidity of age; and the latter supplements and corrects the work of the +schools so effectively, that it is not surprising to find even many a +keen-sighted and highly accomplished American more or less blindfolded +as to this. Because the ultimate results are satisfactory, it is taken +for granted, that the educational conditions of the country must be +all right, while a searching critical examination irresistibly forces +upon one the question, whether a good deal is not achieved in spite of +them. If this be so, failure to promptly attend to what is defective +in them will surely be punished, for thanks to the rapidity with which +the United States are being filled up, their formative period is fast +drawing to a close, and with its close, the educational power of American +life will be, in some important respects, very sensibly diminished. The +peculiar advantages, they have thus far enjoyed, are steadily growing +weaker, while intellectually and morally, the difficulties confronting +the whole civilised world, and difficulties peculiar to them, are as +steadily making greater demands upon the people. Growth of population and +development of economical life, with all its attending circumstances, +constantly working at the further nationalisation of the American people, +and the problems to be solved growing more and more intricate, disaster +must become inevitable, if education does not keep abreast of this +double movement; and this it cannot do, if we do not energetically and +systematically go to work to nationalise education without consolidating +it. Nor have we any time to lose, for the task is by no means easy. Every +inch of ground gained will be the price of an arduous and protracted +struggle. + +From the Federal Government no direct assistance is to be derived, for +the question is not within the province of its constitutional powers, +and if it were, we ought not to ask its interference, because, as I said, +to nationalise education without consolidating it, is to be the aim. +Public opinion, unaided by law, must effect the reform. Public opinion, +however, is in this country even more powerful than the law. It is sure +finally to overcome not only all active, but even all passive resistance, +which is always much harder to overcome. But is there any possibility of +ever inducing public opinion to take the question up in full earnest? I +am confident there is, and at all events it must be tried. The difficulty +of the task is no excuse for not undertaking it. It only admonishes us, +not to waste time, strength, and enthusiasm in vain attempts to carry +the fortress by assault. The works are so extended and so strong that +only a methodical siege requiring a great deal of skill, patience, and +determination, offers any chance of success. Two preliminary questions +must, therefore, be answered, ere operations can be commenced: who is to +conduct the campaign, and by what tactics can the approaches be pushed on +the fastest? + +The answer to be given to the first question is plain. The instructors +are to be considered the experts, if anybody can claim the title. Upon +them, therefore, devolves the duty to take the lead. This they have +already commenced to do. The very existence of a National Educational +(Teacher’s) Association is in itself irrefutable proof that the opinions +advanced by me, have, in some way and to some extent, asserted themselves +for some time. How this has been done and what has been effected, I do +not feel called upon to discuss. I merely state that while I appreciate +what it has done and expect from it still more in the future, I am +firmly convinced that the goal can never be reached if we are to content +ourselves with what this organisation is capable of achieving. This +will be deemed the less disparaging, if I furthermore state that, in my +opinion, the end could no more be attained by any other organisation +acting singlehanded. Hunting for any one device which will as certainly +effect a cure as patent medicines claim to cure bodily ailments, is but +to waste time. The evil has to be attacked from many points and in many +ways, if sanitation is to set in. + +While I am fully persuaded of this, I am, however, on the other hand as +firmly convinced that nothing will be of avail if the Universities do +not step forward, heading the column of attack and adding compulsion to +suasion. The reform has to be worked from the top downward. At present +the law is, to a great extent, dictated by the schools of the lower +grade to those of the higher. This must be reversed. The Universities +must insist upon getting the proper material for doing what in their +judgment is the proper work. They must cease fitting themselves to what +the schools are pleased to send them. By closing their doors against +all applicants whom they do not really deem adequately prepared, they +must compel the schools, either to take down from their portals the +inscription “fitting school,” or to mend their ways and furnish their +pupils the kind and the amount of instruction they ought. A University +that meekly submits to travel on whatever roads some hundreds of schools, +which all more or less follow their own notions, happen to think good +enough, never can be a University except in name. No institution has a +moral right to the proud name of University that does not, consciously +and determinately, do all that is in its power to direct its educational +policy solely by what the civilisation of the age and the true interests +of the nation require. + +I wish the old maxim _ultra posse nemo obligatur_ did not compel me to +say “to do all that is in its power,” for I am but too well aware how +deplorably little that is in many cases. State Universities are subject +to another will, and this other will is apt to have very much its own +notions as to how much a University may be allowed to cost, and to +determine the standard of the University entirely by the local standard +of schools. Other Universities, though legally their own masters, are +practically restrained as much or even more by implacable facts. No +University can entirely dispense with students, and the endowment of more +than one University forbids its making light of the number of students it +can secure. Being to some extent dependent upon the students for their +maintenance, they cannot afford to be very fastidious in regard to the +standard of schools they try to enlist into their constituency. But there +is also a goodly number of Universities whose position is in absolutely +every respect so strong that they can enter the lists without any risk +whatever to themselves. Whether they stop growing for a while or even +decline in numbers for some years does not affect their future in the +least. They are so much in quest by students that the fitting schools +are sure to make haste to meet their requirements, if these rise above +their curriculum. To move on in wild leaps would, of course, be foolish. +But so long as these Universities do not do that they never need to look +backward in their onward march; their whole constituency of schools must +follow close upon their heels, because they cannot afford to bolt and +drop out. The more the leading Universities proceed upon a concerted +plan, the larger the circle would grow, within which their joint pressure +would be irresistible: the strength of each would be doubled by pressing +on, shoulder to shoulder with the others, on the same lines. At the same +time it will make it correspondingly easier for the weaker ones to follow +in their wake. How could it fail to make an impression upon those on +whom they depend, if they can back their pleas by urging the practical +unanimity of all the foremost institutions of the country as to the right +course to take? The more the leading Universities are united, not only +as to the scope and method of their own work, but also as to what is +to be considered the proper preparation for University work, the more +will deviations from the rules laid down by them come to imply to public +opinion inferiority of standard; and if there is a whip under which +American communities smart, it is this. As to this would be added the +missionary influences of the alumni sent from the leading Universities +into all parts of the republic, it would be strange indeed, if the idea +were not constantly to spread and to cast deeper root, that to adequately +provide for the educational needs of the country, it is necessary +consciously to create and systematically to foster a tendency, by the +free action of public opinion, more and more to harmonise education, in +developing it everywhere and in all its ramifications into a thoroughly +organic structure. + +I am prepared to hear the opinions I have ventured to advance strenuously +contested and, perhaps, even mercilessly ridiculed by many. The open +antagonists, however, cause me but little uneasiness. I fear only one +thing, i. e. that those who more or less endorse my criticisms and agree +with me as to what is desirable, will be induced by the arduousness of +the work to persuade themselves that it is impossible to bring about such +a reform. To them I should say: Where there is a will, there is a way, +and the American people _must_ be brought to will this reform, because +every year a portentous word is becoming more true and of greater import: +“the age of perils is past, but the age of difficulties has set it.” + + H. VON HOLST. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[88] Commencement address at the Nebraska State University, June 7, 1893. + + + + +MEANING AND METAPHOR. + + +Professor Huxley supposes[89] “that so long as the human mind exists, it +will not escape its deep-seated instinct to personify its intellectual +conceptions.” He finds that “the science of the present day is as full of +this particular form of intellectual shadow-worship as is the nescience +of ignorant ages.” The difference he sees is “that the philosopher who is +worthy of the name knows that his personified hypotheses, such as law, +and force, and ether, and the like, are merely useful symbols, while the +ignorant and the careless take them for adequate expressions of reality.” +He then goes on to warn us against dealing with symbols as though they +were “real existences.” + +Few indeed are free from reproach in this matter, so far as reproach is +deserved at all in the general unconsciousness of what constitutes the +danger. Few see the question to be vital or the danger to be urgent; +and even those who do are apt to deny that the search for a remedy can +be a crusade worth attempting; the very idea seems Utopian or pedantic. +On the one hand, teachers as a rule do not take their own analogies and +metaphors seriously. Both the literary and scientific, as well as the +philosophic and historical instinct tell against their doing so. In their +eyes figures have either faded into indifferent abstractions, or they are +obviously pictorial and merely rhetorical. But the average reader is apt +to take them at the foot of the letter. He is usually unaware both of the +extent to which he literalises and of the curious inconsistencies which +his literalising involves. So he makes his inferences with alight heart, +and wonders, perhaps, at the resulting confusion without suspecting its +true cause. + +Would that the real state of the case and its practical consequences +could be pressed home to all with such force, that whatever be our line +of work or thought or expression we should strive in earnest to mend +matters. At least, we might begin by learning better what part symbolism +plays in the rituals of expression, and ask ourselves what else is +language itself but symbolism, and what it symbolises. We should then +examine anew the relations of the “symbolic” to the “real”; of image, +figure, metaphor, to what we call literal or actual. For this concerns +us all. Imagery runs in and out, so to speak, from the symbolic to the +real world and back again. As matters stand, we never know where we are +because we know so little where our phrases or our words are; indeed, +perhaps they and we are “neither here nor there.” Or, if we do know +where we are, we cannot be sure that our hearer or reader knows where +he is. He, too, is probably “neither here nor there.” He often praises +or agrees with us in the wrong place or the wrong manner. That is worse +than being complained of or differed from; it is difficult to repudiate +approval. Nor can we take refuge in lucidity and fancy that the clear +must be the true. In the long run and in the cases which _signify_ most, +there is no escape through merely lucid style or method. The “luminous” +speaker or writer, the “forcible” orator or essayist, the moment he tries +to convey to the public mind a thought which is really new, will find +himself hampered by his very clearness itself. His ideas are controverted +on assumptions not really his; or he himself is misled in subtle ways by +what he assumes in others. + +Thus, by an instructive paradox, the clearest writer is often the most +controversial; and he wonders at our perverseness as, while we admire +his power and his “style,” we wonder at the perverseness in him. We +possibly agree with him in ways we do not suspect; he possibly agrees +with us in senses he ignores. Such a writer may pride himself on a chary +use of metaphor, or on a carefully sharp distinction between “image” +and “thing” or “object.” But he is liable to forget the danger dogging +him even here. One is tempted to say that there is only one term more +figurative as well as more ambiguous than “metaphorical,” and that is +“literal.” Most certainly much that is called “literal” is tinged with +the figurative in varying degrees, not always easy to distinguish, even +with the help of context. The word “literal” itself is indeed a case in +point. It has rarely, if ever, any reference to writing. + +The question is, whether this state of things is quite so inevitable +as most of us seem to think. Certainly, so long as we are content to +live in the fool’s paradise of supposing that only the perverse, the +prejudiced, the stupid, or the ignorant can possibly mistake our meaning, +and that our misreadings of others are simply due to their “obscurity,” +or “quibbling,” or literary incapacity, we shall ourselves contribute to +the hopelessness of the situation. But this is a subject which cannot be +dealt with in an incidental way; it is rather a hope for the future, that +one of the most practically serviceable of subjects—that of Meaning, its +conditions and its changes—shall be seriously taken up. Then, indeed, +we may get back to the first of all questions, and that which is most +pregnant of helpful answers; that which needs asking more than any other +if good work is to be done in this day of universal “unsettlement”:—What +do we really mean? On all sides dead calms are stirred and ruffled, +dead levels upheaved or depressed; nothing (happily) can hope to escape +the wave of quickening force. So before long we may well be asking this +question in good earnest; and when we do we can but be the better, even +if we must needs submit in some cases where we may have been prematurely +positive, to be content (for the moment) with the answer: We do not +really know. + +The fact is, that we have been postulating an absolute Plain Meaning to +be thought of, as it were, in capital letters. We have been virtually +assuming that our hearers and readers all share the same mental +background and atmosphere. We have practically supposed that they all +look through the same inferential eyes, that their attention waxes and +wanes at the same points, that their associations, their halos of memory +and circumstance, their congenital tendencies to symbolise or picture, +are all on one pattern. Verily, we need a “Critique of Plain Meaning”! + +Again we _quote_ on the same assumption. Unless the language of our +author is obviously archaic; unless his allusions unmistakably betray +a different life-context, a different social “milieu,” in short, a +different mental world, we claim him or we repudiate him on the same +principle. We take his words, we take his phrases, we fill them out with +the same content as our own, we make him mean precisely what we ourselves +mean. And be it noted that it is always what we mean _now_. That this in +any way varies from what we meant at some time when, e. g., our attention +was differently focussed, rarely enters our heads. + +We shall, I suppose, admit that until lately there was one very good +reason for this state of things. Only the exceptional mind (if any); +only the mind which could not make itself fully understood by its +contemporaries, and would risk being reckoned crazy or criminal if it +spoke “plainly,” had any suspicion that this way of looking at things +was being gradually invalidated by the general extension of the critical +domain. The history of language, its relation to thought; the scope +of expression and representation, the function of the figurative and +symbolic; the growth of all means of mental communion from the simplest +rudiments of gesture or cry to the highest point of intellectual +complexity,—all this was either ignored or taken for granted on radically +insecure bases. + +Again, while the underlying conditions of language must be looked for +in the domain of psycho-physics, that science had not yet come into +existence. Even now it is but feeling its way and putting forth tentative +hypotheses, warning us, as it does, so that they are liable to be +constantly modified and occasionally revolutionised. And what does it +realise, first and foremost? That our difficulties on the very threshold +of the inquiry are, as usual, largely those of language. On all sides we +have to use, as best we may, modes of expression that inevitably convey +ambiguous meanings even to the thoughtful, even to the trained mind, +which cannot but carry with them a background of outgrown or disproved +premises, vitiating more or less every conclusion that we draw from them. +The very phrases which are our only shorthand for the vast oratory of +nature and experience betray us in the using. We have taken them as +though they were like numerals invariable in meaning, thus supposing them +subject to a permanent uniformity. We have taken them as though they +were without a history, merely fortuitous labels or symbols of unanimous +consent; the accepted sense, we think, being easily ascertainable, always +persistent, and wholly sufficient for practical purposes. In any case we +strangely assume that we may safely play upon all the chords of imagery, +reserving without difficulty for serious use a body of terms which are +direct expressions of “fact.” + +But the suggestion now made is that this is precisely one of the most +dangerous of presuppositions. It is not the man who has mystified +himself, or who wishes to mystify others; it is not the man who confounds +the reality of the logical with that of the actual; it is not the man who +takes emotion for proof and notion for fact; it is none of these, but +the man who is clear on such points and sees that they must be drawn out +into clues and followed up to the uttermost, if we would know where we +are—who is beginning to see that the paramount need of the moment is the +“torpedo-shock” of the question, What do we really mean? He knows that +the off-hand vagueness and ready-made confusion, which too often from +sheer ignorance usurp the name of common-sense, are in the long run its +most deadly enemies. + +We may look forward then with a new hope to the rise of a systematic +inquiry on the subject of meaning and its changes. This would entail +the much-needed work of classifying metaphor, and might even be found +to point to the existence of a third value, neither wholly literal, nor +wholly figurative, as that of a large proportion of ordinary expression. +From this and like causes, in this age of rapid changes due mainly to +scientific conquest, we can all readily put to each other questions to +which either a “yes” or a “no” must be equally misleading. And men of +science have specially realised this, since many a time they have been +unjustly credited with evasion, or with untenable or immoral views, +because they either answered to a “plain question”: “In one sense, yes; +in another, no,” or else gave an answer which could not fail to be +misunderstood by a mind which was governed by unconscious survivals. So +far as we are in touch with modern culture, we no longer mean what we +must have meant in the days before Copernicus, when we say, for instance, +“the sun rises.” When we speak of infection, we no longer mean what we +used to mean before microbes had been heard of. When we talk of “heat,” +we no longer mean what we used to mean even fifty years ago. And when a +man says that he believes in the sun, the planets, the cosmos, in the +heavens and the earth, in mind and matter, in soul and body, in spirit +and flesh, he cannot, if he would, mean just what his forefathers meant, +or indeed anything at all absolutely and finally. Whether we will or +no, the meaning of such terms is changing on our very tongues, and ever +swaying between the extremes which we call literal and metaphorical; +“heaven,” e. g., ranging in value from sky to human destiny; “earth,” +from soil to the visible Home of Man. We may appeal, and are right +to appeal to “hard, dry” facts; but we perforce put something out of +ourselves even into these. They become “facts” under the quickening +touch of “mind,” while that emerges from a dim world of prepossession, +bequeathing us many a primitive legacy from pre-intelligent sentience, +and perhaps from little-suspected sources lying yet further back. For +instance, primitive terror in its “superstitious” forms tended to +represent man as inferior to and dependent on powers of some sort;—and +this was true to natural order in the fact that his very world was not +self-centred and was dependent for its best boons upon a greater than +itself. As language advanced, he began quite naturally to express his +meaning in “appropriate metaphors”; to use, e. g., the figures of light +and then of sight to describe what he had, as we now say, “in his mind,” +or what sense-messages, as we now say, had “put into his head.” For +“something told him” that light, as it had been the first pleasure, was +also the great means of life.[90] And he “saw,” in however grotesque a +guise, the unbroken continuity of the organic and the inorganic, and +perhaps even more clearly than most of us yet do, that of so-called +“matter” and so-called “mind.” Perhaps in some cases, therefore, he +chose his imagery better than (after long ages of dualism carried to the +splitting-point) we generally do now. + +He knew again that the senses after all, stern masters though they were +while life was so hard to live, had very narrow limits; and that the +world was in some sense fuller and richer of life than it had seemed to +be as known directly through them.[91] And then he wondered,—and began +to ask. He was the first Questioner. As Prof. Max Müller says,[92] “the +greater the savagery, the dullness, the stupidity with which _Homo +sapiens_ began, the greater the marvel at what must have been from the +first, though undeveloped, in him, and made him in the end what we find +him to be in the men of light and leading of our own age.” The mere fact +of the question is the riddle to be solved. For certainly the beasts had +not taught him either to wonder or to ask. And not merely insatiable +questioning but something more here rises to challenge our attention and +to demand reflection. Man is the first critic because he is the first +idealist; the first to be discontented, to protest, to see life as a +“ravelled end,” as something which is incomplete and speaks of something +more. Surely in any case the step of all steps, the deepest yet the +narrowest line to cross is the step from something noticed or found, from +something which happens or appears, from something which somehow affects +us, excites us, to its significance. + +Of course in one sense it is impossible to fix any definite moment +as that of the advent of this “significance.” Animals interpret each +other’s aspect and gestures, often indeed with a subtle precision which +to some extent we have lost. But interpretation in the intellectual +sense becomes, from our present point of view, that which makes us +really human. Our progress, our ascent, is mainly marked in this. The +root-question to ask in gauging levels of humanity is, how much can a +given man interpret or translate, of a world that teems with meaning? How +much can he truly classify and relate, how much can he rightly infer and +conclude, how much can he account for, explain, and fruitfully apply? For +after all, results must be our tests. Claims and credentials are nothing, +unless they can show this warrant; whereas truth which can use all facts +alike is the very means of survival. Man begins by doing, by acting +out impulse; then he learns to “think” little by little, observing, +questioning, pondering, testing his way onward and upward. And throughout +his patient, often painful journey, he is himself perpetually challenged. +Nature’s stimulating appeals rain upon him ceaselessly from every side; +she orders him to master all her meanings. He responds:—at first again, +“blindly,” but ever rising to higher grades of answer. Both deficiency +and error are no doubt more or less present in all mental response to +actual fact—that is, in all experience. But the essence of sanity from +the first lies in corrective power. Everywhere there is either absence of +notice, absence of response, or there is experimental activity (broadly +speaking) corrected at once; automatically or by the combined effect of +the related organic activities. For instance, in health, if in using +the hand, one finger accidentally goes astray, the coördinating muscles +promptly recall it to a “sense of duty.” We know how the same rule works +in speech and writing. Therefore, unless “voluntary” and “capricious” +(or “willing” and “wilful”) are synonyms, the advent of volition ought +not to mean the abrogation of this rule. + +It is, however, obvious that “natural selection” can only operate +in cases where death or sterility is the consequence of failure in +adaptation and appropriate reaction, or segregation the consequence of +excessive variation. But the point here is, why does not a tendency +to correction, thus established, survive automatically in incipient +imagination and therefore in language? It seems almost a burlesque +of popular notions of “free will” to suppose that the moment the +death-penalty is taken off, the new-born intelligence, unique in adapting +power, should go astray persistently without let or hindrance. Many now +merely formal or even jocular customs still prevailing[93] testify, as +legacies from a remote time of danger needing to be averted, to the +strength of tendencies organised during myriads of generations under the +pressure of the struggle for life. Why does not this apply to language? + +But sight gives us here perhaps the most suggestive lesson; for therein +the ascending series seems especially gradual and unbroken. The eye, +unlike the other organs of sense is an outgrowth of the very brain +itself; “the retina ... is in reality a part of the brain.”[94] We +may well therefore connect its functions specially with the thought +of significance; it is the main out-post of our central means of +interpretation. + +Taking the stages in the evolution of the eye, and using a short summary +of these as a convenient means of testing the value of a conspicuous +group of metaphors, we find (1) a mere dint; (2) this dint deepening +into a pit which (3) gradually narrows. Hitherto we have had only light +and darkness; now we have an image, though but a dim one. (4) The pit is +closed by a transparent membrane; this is protection, not obstacle. (5) +The lens is formed by deposit of cuticle. Gain; increased distinctness +and increased brightness. The lens can focus a larger pencil of rays +from each part of the object to each part of the retina (corresponding +point). Finally, iris and eyelid protect the perfected eye more +completely, and enable it both to bear more light and to discern more +detail. + +If mental development were in any way comparable to this physiological +development, we should expect to find (1) something which would +naturally be described as a vague or dim “impression”; gradually +deepening, becoming more distinctly localised as the stimulus became +more definitely “impressive.” (2) We should begin to find “reality” and +the “unreal”; “fact” and “fancy”; “truth” and “falsehood”; knowledge and +ignorance,—contrasted as “light” and “darkness.”[95] And this is what +actually happens.[96] + +(3) Still our mental “impression” would not as yet afford us an image; +“imagination” only now comes upon the scene and begins to work (though as +yet “dimly”) upon the objects which more and more “incisively” “impress” +us. (4) Our deep “impression” is closed in one sense from direct contact +with the outward; mental vision becomes more delicately differentiated +from the emotional “touch,” however this may be specialised and +intensified. But what secludes this is transparent; it is protection, not +obstacle. We rightly speak of mental penetration; of “seeing through” +a superficial limit. The mental “lens” is formed from that “continuum” +on which the original “impression” was made. The gain now is increased +distinctness and brightness. More rays of “light,” of reality, of fact, +of truth, of knowledge, can now be focussed from each part of a given +object (or group of objects) of mental attention and interest; to each +part of the responsive “sensitive plate” of the mind. Finally we have, +so to speak, increased protective growth. The function of what are called +academic culture and scientific method, with their fastidious standards +of fitness and accuracy, may perhaps represent something not unlike that +of iris and eyelid, enabling the developing mind safely to bear intenser +illumination and also to discern more subtle detail. + +It must be admitted that so far as it goes this is a significant +psychological parable. However slender its right to the position even +of a working clue to early stages of mind, it has at least better +credentials than many accepted analogies can claim. And throughout +its course what most “impresses” itself upon one’s mind is the steady +maintenance of invariable reaction to excitation, and of protection from +unfavorable stimulus. + +“Mind,” as Mr. Shadworth Hodgson tells us,[97] “is a fiction of the +fancy.” Of course this is open to the retort that so is fancy a fiction +of the mind, or fiction a fancy of the mind. + +Psychology is full of these see-saws of paradox, depending on +vicissitudes of linguistic usage or context. But mind is indeed a fiction +of the fancy when we endow it with a fanciful freedom from all ties with +what we call physical reality. For this, however plainly we may recognise +its genesis in our own sequences of sense-impression, does practically +through them rule us with an undeviating severity which neither fiction +nor fancy can tamper with. Therefore, if we think it absurd to suppose +that there may possibly be an undiscovered vein of authentic and really +indicative symbol or metaphor running through the arbitrary meshes of +fanciful custom or mythical term, we are in fact implying that all clues +from the original interactions of physical energy were entirely lost when +what we call “mind” issued first in language. But at all events we may be +sure that links between the “physical” and the “psychical” are everywhere +drawing closer and emerging clearer, however buried as yet in a mass of +the fantastic or the arbitrary. + +It will probably be objected that we can never hope to find these. No +doubt such an attempt must mean the patient work of many lifetimes, and +at best we could not hope to lay bare the ultimate point of “origin.” +But yet it seems worth trying. For after all, even the results which +may appear so scanty in the tracing back of language, are already rich +far beyond what could have been hoped for a few generations back. And +if it were once realised that such a line of work might have practical +and far-reaching issues; if we really saw that thus some barren disputes +and speculations might cease to bar the way or to waste some precious +energies, we should be more than rewarded. In his “Dialogues of +Plato”[98] Professor Jowett warned us twenty years ago of our linguistic +dangers, repeating his warning with greater emphasis and in fresh forms +in the admirable essays added in the edition just published. He urges +that the “greatest lesson which the philosophical analysis of language +teaches us is, that we should be above language, making words our +servants and not allowing them to be our masters.” “Words,” he tells +us, “appear to be isolated but they are really the parts of an organism +which is always being reproduced. They are refined by civilisation, +harmonised by poetry, emphasised by literature, technically applied in +philosophy and art; they are used as symbols on the border-ground of +human knowledge; they receive a fresh impress from individual genius, +and come with a new force and association to every lively-minded person. +They are fixed by the simultaneous utterance of millions and yet are +always imperceptibly changing:—not the inventors of language, but writing +and speaking, and particularly great writers, or works which pass into +the hearts of nations, Homer, Shakespeare, Dante, the German or English +Bible, Kant and Hegel, are the makers of them in later ages. They carry +with them the faded recollection of their own past history; the use of +a word in a striking and familiar passage, gives a complexion to its +use everywhere else, and the new use of an old and familiar phrase has +also a peculiar power over us.” Then he reminds us of what we too often +forget; that “language is an aspect of man, of nature, and of nations, +the transfiguration of the world in thought, the meeting-point of the +physical and mental sciences, and also the mirror in which they are +reflected, an effect and partly a cause of our common humanity, present +at every moment to the individual and yet having a sort of eternal or +universal nature.”[99] + +Nowadays, when we feel most scathingly superior, we often announce that +we fail to see and have yet to learn something which, bringing us, it +may be, a really fresh idea, unpleasantly stirs misgiving. Let us go +on with our greeting, meaning it in good earnest. For when we honestly +and without reservation consent to learn and succeed in seeing some +things now waiting for our study we may find more than we look for, +within reach. After all it may be that we have really failed to see +and have really yet to learn the part that meaning—whether of language +or of conduct—and its change or variations (successive or simultaneous) +have had throughout the mental history of man. It may be that while +the ordinary modern metaphor like the ordinary modern analogy is a +mere rhetorical device, some few images may be found to hail from an +altogether deeper and more authentic source. Many, however ancient, are +not of course any the more valid for their antiquity. On the contrary it +is obvious that such a figure for instance as “foundation” or “basis” to +express an ultimate necessity, is a survival from days in which the earth +was supposed to require and to possess such fixed and immutable base, +while the analogies, e. g. between the human and the inorganic orders are +now reversed. We import the idea of mechanism and invariable sequence +into the former instead of exporting conscious intention into the latter; +we level down where our forefathers levelled up. And we have to beware of +the subtle atmosphere of fallacy thus introduced. + +But on the other hand it is conceivable that some may be found to belong +to that as yet mysterious energy on which natural selection plays and of +which variation is the outcome or the sign. What we find in language may +thus be, as it were, not merely the “scarred and weather-worn” remnant +of geogenic strata but sometimes the meteorite, the calcined fragment of +earlier worlds of correspondence, ultra-earthly, cosmical. We have no +right to do more than ask and seek and knock at the gates of fact in such +a matter as this. But until that has been done; until at least we have +tried the experiment; have looked for grades of validity in metaphor and +analogy in the light of modern science, and still more, have recognised +clearly the powerful though hidden effects upon us of organised mental +picture brought in surreptitiously with verbal imagery, or by comparison; +we cannot know whether such an effort is worth while or no, or what +harvest it may yield. For after all, whether we like it or no, we _are_ +heliocentric; the world and all that is in it is cosmically generated. +As far as science—and experience—are concerned, anything which says “I +don’t admit that origin; I claim to have produced myself or to have +been originated by and on the earth in a final sense,” must make good +its geocentric or self-creating pretensions with overwhelming cogency +and rigorous proof. We appeal to the “light” of science, of reason, of +experience, against the “darkness” of superstition, myth, and mysticism. +And we are thus appealing not to the supersensuous or supernatural +but to the ultra-satellitic. Not only beyond the earth and touch but +beyond the atmosphere and hearing is the home of the light that lightens +our small world, calling forth in us the answer of sight. And the +manifold revelations through this sense—in its mental as well as bodily +character—press upon us, with greater and greater insistence, the wealth +of our relations with the universe. + +In any case, _meaning_—in the widest sense of the word—is the only value +of whatever “fact” presents itself to us. Without this, to observe and +record appearances or occurrences would become a worse than wasteful +task. Significance is the one value of all that consciousness brings, or +that intelligence deals with; the one value of life itself. But perhaps +for this very reason we have taken it too much for granted. It may need a +more definite place in psychological inquiries. It may have unsuspected +bearings. + +When we have realised better what manner of gift this is, we may find +answers of which we have prematurely despaired; answers coming not from +the “mystical” point of the horizon of experience, but rather from the +neural. And let us beware here of repeating the pre-scientific error of +postulating, for figurative purposes, a flat earth on which whatever lies +beyond “horizons” never meets! But, it may be said, why not? Why should +it signify? Why, but because Man is the one not merely who thinks, or +speaks, or writes, or looks upwards, but the one who _means_, the one +who _is_ the meaning of much, and makes the meaning of all; the one who +will not tolerate the unmeaning anywhere in experience. Nothing remains +but that he should interpret rightly; that he should apprehend nature and +experience in their true sense. It is the glory of science that she puts +this aim in the forefront of her labors. She tells us that nothing can +be done without assumption and hypothesis as to the meaning of things. +But that significance belongs to the very spring to which we owe her +dauntless energy and her accumulating triumphs. + +Why should it signify? The very term answers us. To “signify” is the one +test of the important. The significant is alone worth notice. We inherit +a mode of thinking which we are at last becoming able to criticise in +the light of knowledge gained by observation and experiment. But if we +persist in using, without warning to hearer or reader, imagery which has +no longer either sense or relevance, or which tends to call up a false +mental picture or to perpetuate an else decaying error, we shall to that +extent forfeit the very gifts which science brings us, and must not +complain of the obstinate persistence of ideas which needlessly divide +us. At least, let us try to realise more clearly what we are losing in +this way. The danger even thus must needs be lessened; detected bogies +become powerless for mischief; but we need not leave their ancient home +empty, swept, and garnished; stores of verified analogy are waiting to +replace them. The figurative must not indeed be pressed, still less +literalised. But we may see that it conveys a true, rather than a false +impression; and harmonises with, instead of contradicting that which we +most surely know.[100] + +It may be said in a true sense that the function of the hero, the saint, +the poet, is to bring the world to _life_. But the function of the +devoted servant of science, the critical scholar, the true philosopher, +is to bring the world to _truth_, in a sense only now becoming possible. +Through the last discipline alone, in its most thorough applications, can +we hope fully to master the scope of all significance and the laws of all +its workings. Then, indeed, we may further hope to read with a fresh eye +the Significance of Life. + + VICTORIA WELBY. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[89] _The Nineteenth Century_, April, 1886. (Reprinted in _Essays on +Controverted Questions_.) + +[90] “Light affects the new-born infant at an early stage, although in +this as in other respects individual differences immediately assert +themselves. The child seems to take pleasure in an excitation of light +and tries (even on the second day after birth) to turn towards it in +order to retain it.” (_Outlines of Psychology_, H. Höffding, p. 4.) + +“Under the influence of light the conversion of inorganic matter into +more complex organic matter takes place, more particularly in the green +cells of plants.” (_Ibid._, p. 315.) + +“It is certainly necessary to look further back than the visual +sensations to understand the great influence of light on all creatures +that have sensuous perception.... Light is thus one of the most +elementary conditions of life.” (_Ibid._, p. 229.) + +[91] It must be borne in mind that I am using psychological terms in +a merely general sense. Among many examples of such use I may quote +Sachs (_Physiology of Plants_, p. 200) and F. Darwin (_Address to +Biological Section_, Brit. Assoc, August 1891), who speaks of the plant +as “perceiving” external change, as “recognising” the vertical line, +“knowing” where the centre of the earth is, “translating” stimulus, etc. +See also Darwin’s _Forms of Flowers_, p. 90. + +Again Prof. M. Foster uses the word “will” in the same general (rather +than metaphorical) sense. (_Text Book of Phys._, Part 3, pp. 1059, 1062, +1063.) Modes of reaction are thus verbally linked with consciousness, and +we must remember that all our terms for the “mental” belong first to the +“physical,” and that many are reciprocally used in the two spheres. + +[92] _Natural Religion_, p. 243. + +[93] See Dr. Tylor’s _Primitive Culture_, Vol. I, pp. 74-121; _Ibid._, +Vol. II, pp. 297-298, 404-428. + +[94] Dr. M. Foster’s _Text-Book of Physiology_, Part 4, p. 1142. + +[95] I am of course merely directing attention to the relative aptness +of metaphors of mental process familiarly in use in our own language. It +is obvious that before any inference could be made from them as to the +value of unconscious analogies of imagery, we should have to make appeal +to comparative philology and embark on a wide inquiry, for which the +English-speaking races must wait for Dr. Murray’s epoch-making Dictionary. + +[96] It must be borne in mind that the whole process presupposes the +other senses or at least the temperature-sense, the “muscular sense” +and that of touch; that is, we should have “felt” simple stimuli +“emotionally” before we “saw” things intellectually. And hearing is +not now in question, though in that, too, we should find the same +character of development, i. e. the same prominence of the protective and +discriminative factors. + +[97] _Brain_, June, 1891. P. 13. + +[98] Vol. I, pp. 285-286, 293. + +[99] The following, among many pregnant passages between which it is +difficult to choose, may be further quoted: + +“The famous dispute between Nominalists and Realists would never have +been heard of, if, instead of transferring the Platonic ideas into a +crude Latin phraseology, the spirit of Plato had been truly understood +and appreciated. Upon the term substance at least two celebrated +theological controversies appear to hinge, which would not have existed, +or at least not in their present form, if we had ‘interrogated’ the word +substance, as Plato has the notions of Unity and Being. Those weeds of +philosophy have struck their roots deep into the soil, and are always +tending to reappear, sometimes in new-fangled forms; while similar words, +such as development, evolution, law, and the like, are constantly put in +the place of facts, even by writers who profess to base truth entirely +upon fact. In an unmetaphysical age there is probably more metaphysics in +the common sense (i. e. more _a priori_ assumption) than in any other, +because there is more complete unconsciousness that we are resting on +our own ideas, while we please ourselves with the conviction that we are +resting on facts. We do not consider how much metaphysics are required to +place us above metaphysics, or how difficult it is to prevent the forms +of expression which are ready made for our use from outrunning actual +observation and experiment.” (Vol. IV, p. 39-40.) + +“To have the true use of words we must compare them with things; in using +them we acknowledge that they seldom give a perfect representation of our +meaning. In like manner when we interrogate our ideas we find that we are +not using them always in the sense which we supposed. (_Ibid._, p. 41.) + +“Many erroneous conceptions of the mind derived from former philosophies +have found their way into language, and we with difficulty disengage +ourselves from them. Mere figures of speech have unconsciously influenced +the minds of great thinkers. Also there are some distinctions, as, +for example, that of the will and of reason, and of the moral and +intellectual faculties, which are carried further than is justified by +experience. Any separation of things which we cannot see or exactly +define, though it may be necessary, is a fertile source of error. The +division of the mind into faculties or powers or virtues is too deeply +rooted in language to be got rid of, but it gives a false impression. For +if we reflect on ourselves we see that all our faculties easily pass into +one another, and are bound together in a single mind or consciousness; +but this mental unity is apt to be concealed from us by the distinctions +of language.” (_Ibid._, p. 155.) + +[100] I would gladly forward to any reader interested in a question of +such practical bearings, a small collection of _Witnesses to Ambiguity_ +gathered from representative sources, and a pamphlet which was circulated +at the International Congress of Experimental Psychology, held in London, +August, 1892, giving examples of the mischievous confusions suggested +by the use, even among writers of the first rank, of the metaphor, +_Inner and Outer_. Prof. H. Sidgwick, the president, in his opening +address, expressed the opinion that very important work of this kind +remained to be done, and added, “I have much sympathy with the view +urged in a pamphlet that I have received for distribution among members +of the Congress, which illustrates forcibly the confusion caused by +one established antithesis of terms.” Professor Sully and others have +expressed themselves strongly in the same sense. + + + + +REPLY TO THE NECESSITARIANS. + +REJOINDER TO DR. CARUS. + + +§ 1. In _The Monist_ for January, 1891, and in the number for April, +1892, I attacked the doctrine that every event is precisely determined by +law. Like everybody else, I admit that there is regularity: I go further; +I maintain the existence of law as something _real and general_. But I +hold there is no reason to think that there are general formulæ to which +the phenomena of nature _always_ conform, or to which they _precisely_ +conform. At the end of my second paper, the partisans of the doctrine of +necessity were courteously challenged and besought to attempt to answer +my arguments. This, so far as I can learn, Dr. Carus alone, in _The +Monist_ of July and October, 1892, has publicly vouchsafed to do. For +this I owe him my particular thanks and a careful rejoinder. + +§ 2. I number the paragraphs of his papers consecutively. The following +index shows the pages on which those paragraphs commence, and the +numbered sections of this rejoinder in which they are noticed. + + DR. CARUS REJOINDER + Vol. II, p. 560 ¶ 1 + ” ” 2 §28 + ” ” 3 29 + ” 561 4 23.27 + ” ” 5 21 + ” ” 6 18 + ” ” 7 18 + ” 562 8 18 _bis._ + ” ” 9 21 + ” ” 10 + ” 563 11 12.21.22 + ” ” 12 19 + ” ” 13 19 + ” 564 14 3.12 _bis._ 22 + ” ” 15 8 _ter_, 16 + ” 565 16 21 + ” ” 17 3 + ” ” 18 3 + ” ” 19 13 note + ” 566 20 14 + ” ” 21 13, 14 + ” ” 22 3.12.22 + ” ” 23 12 + ” ” 24 3.13.14 + ” 567 25 8 + ” ” 26 8 + ” ” 27 8.22 + ” ” 28 20.22 + ” ” 29 12 + ” 568 30 22 + ” ” 31 22 _bis_ + ” ” 32 22 + ” 569 33 22 + ” ” 34 22 + ” ” 35 8 + ” ” 36 29 + ” ” 37 + ” 570 38 + ” ” 39 + ” ” 40 + ” 571 41 + ” ” 42 + ” ” 43 + ” 572 44 23 + ” ” 45 + ” ” 46 5.23 + ” 573 47 + ” ” 48 7 + ” ” 49 7 + ” ” 50 7 + ” 574 51 7.25 + ” ” 52 + ” ” 53 25 + ” ” 54 + ” ” 55 25 _bis_ + ” 575 56 17 + ” ” 57 17 _bis_ + ” ” 58 17.25 + ” ” 59 17 + ” ” 60 17 + ” 576 61 7.17.25 _bis_ + ” ” 62 17.21 + ” ” 63 17 + ” 577 64 17 _bis_ + ” ” 65 26 + ” ” 66 25 + ” ” 67 25 _bis_ + ” 578 68 6.7 + ” ” 69 17 + ” 579 70 6 + ” ” 71 3 + ” 580 72 3 + ” ” 73 3 + ” ” 74 3 + ” ” 75 3 + ” 581 76 3 + ” ” 77 3.11 + ” ” 78 + ” ” 79 21 + ” 582 80 + ” ” 81 29 + ” ” 82 29 + ” ” 83 29 + Vol. III, 68 84 5 + ” ” 85 27 + ” ” 86 + ” 69 87 12 + ” ” 88 5.15 _bis_ + ” ” 89 + ” ” 90 + ” ” 91 5 + ” ” 92 5 + ” 70 93 5 + ” ” 94 5 + ” ” 95 3 + ” ” 96 4.11 + ” 71 97 + ” ” 98 + ” ” 99 + ” ” 100 + ” 72 101 + ” ” 102 11 + ” ” 103 6 + ” ” 104 + ” ” 105 + ” 73 106 11 + ” ” 107 6 + ” ” 108 6 + ” ” 109 6 + ” ” 110 6 + ” ” 111 6 + ” 74 112 6 + ” ” 113 6.11 + ” ” 114 6 + ” ” 115 6 + ” 75 116 6.7 + ” ” 117 6 + ” 76 118 + ” ” 119 9 + ” ” 120 6.16 + ” ” 121 14 + ” ” 122 11 + ” 77 123 3 + ” ” 124 10 + ” ” 125 7 + ” 78 126 8 + ” ” 127 8 + ” ” 128 29 + ” 79 129 + ” ” 130 + ” ” 131 + ” ” 132 + ” ” 133 27 + ” ” 134 + ” 80 135 + ” ” 136 + ” ” 137 15 + ” ” 138 15 + ” ” 139 5.15 + ” 81 140 15 + ” ” 141 15 + ” ” 142 15.25 + ” ” 143 15.24 + ” ” 144 15 _bis_ + ” ” 145 15 _bis_ + ” ” 146 15 _bis_ + ” ” 147 15 _ter_ + ” 82 148 15 + ” ” 149 12.15 + ” ” 150 15 _bis._ 25 + ” 83 151 15.24 + ” ” 152 15.24 + ” ” 153 15.24 + ” ” 154 15.24 + ” ” 155 15.24 + ” 84 156 15 _bis_ + ” ” 157 15 + ” ” 158 15.24 + ” 85 159 15.24 + ” ” 160 15.24 + ” 86 161 15 _bis_ + ” ” 162 15 + ” ” 163 5.14 + ” ” 164 14 + ” 87 165 4.14 + ” ” 166 14 + ” ” 167 14 + ” ” 168 27 + ” ” 169 27 + ” 88 170 27 + ” ” 171 27 + ” ” 172 27 + ” ” 173 + ” ” 174 + ” 89 175 27 + ” ” 176 27 _bis_ + ” ” 177 27 + ” ” 178 27 + ” ” 179 + ” ” 180 30 + ” ” 181 + ” ” 182 + ” 90 183 30 + ” ” 184 + ” ” 185 27 + ” ” 186 27 + ” 91 187 27 + ” ” 188 + ” ” 189 + ” ” 190 + ” 92 191 4 + ” ” 192 27 _bis_ + ” ” 193 20.27 _bis_ + ” 93 194 + ” ” 195 8 + ” ” 196 8 + ” 94 197 + ” ” 198 6 + ” ” 199 30 + ” ” 200 + ” ” 201 + ” 95 202 + ” ” 203 20.29 + ” ” 204 29 + ” 96 205 20 + ” ” 206 + ” ” 207 + +§ 3. Dr. Carus’s philosophy is hard to understand. Some phrases which +he frequently uses lead the reader to imagine that he is listening to +an old-fashioned Königsberg Kantian. What, then, is our surprise when +we find (¶ 14) that he sneers at the Kantian, Sir William Hamilton +(whom he calls Mr. Hamilton) as having “no adequate conception of the +_a priori_.” In his “Ursache, Grund und Zweck” (1883), an admirably +clear and systematic exposition of much of his thought, he takes a +Schleiermacherian view of the _a priori_. He admits it to be founded in +the universal conditions of cognition; but he thinks it is among the +objective rather than the subjective conditions. This is an opinion +to which Hamilton is also at times inclined. It is a weak conception, +unless the whole distinction between the inward and the outward world be +reformed in the light of agapastic and synechistic ontology. For to deny +that the _a priori_ is subjective is to remove its essential character; +and to make it both subjective and objective (otherwise than in the sense +in which Kant himself makes it objective) is uncalled for, and is cut off +by Ockham’s razor. But when synechism has united the two worlds, this +view gains new life. + +Another thing which has astonished me is Dr. Carus’s extravagant +laudation (¶ 17) of Venn’s highly enlightened and remarkably +bright-thinking, yet blundering little book, “The Logic of Chance.”[101] +This is the way he speaks of it: “This admirable work, we will make +bold to say, marks a new epoch in the study of logic.” He adds that it +“paves the way which Mr. Peirce has actually followed.” But the question +of the nature of probability had long before that publication engaged +the attention of some of the most powerful intellects in England; and +my opinion concerning it was fully made up before I saw the book. I do +not think I learned anything from that except a classification of the +philosophies of probability. However, after all his eulogy, Dr. Carus +only uses the book to quote from it Mill’s rewording of Kant’s definition +of causation, which he would better have quoted direct. + +Let me say, not to Dr. Carus, but to the younger generation of readers, +that if they imagine that Hamilton, because he is antiquated, is not +worth reading, they are much mistaken. The Scotistic elements of his +philosophy, and his method in the notes on Reid are especially worthy of +attention. As for Mill, though his philosophy was not profound, it is, +at least in his “Examination of Hamilton,” admirably set forth. Whoever +wishes to appeal to the American philosophical mind needs to be quite +familiar with the writings of these two men. + +Dr. Carus himself accepts all that I hold for erroneous in Kant’s +definition of causation as universal and necessary sequence. Mill +merely substitutes the exacter words _invariable_ for “universal,” +and _unconditional_ for “necessary.”[102] In giving his form of the +definition, Mill shows why it is not applicable to the sequence of day +and night, namely, that that is not necessary. Yet Dr. Carus writes (¶ +18) of this very same sequence as if it came under Mill’s definition![103] + +Again, why should he make it “the immortal merit of the great Scotchman” +(¶ 22), that is, of Hume, that he admitted the truth of Leibniz’s +principle? + +The famed puzzle of causation is peculiarly understood by Dr. Carus. +The difficulties which the perusal of Hume suggested to the mind +of Kant,[104] were such as belonged to all categories, or general +conceptions of the understanding. The precritical Kant inherited a very +decided nominalism from Leibniz and Wolf; and the puzzle for him was +simply the usual difficulty that plagues nominalism when it finds itself +confronted with a reality which has an element of generality. Necessity +is, I need hardly say, but a particular variety of universality. But +Dr. Carus (¶ 24) passes over this, to dwell upon an entirely different +objection to causation, namely, that it seems to be a creation out of +nothing, and a miracle. + +I find myself equally at cross-purposes with him, when in ¶¶ 71-77, he +speaks of the prevalent views of logicians concerning _comprehension_. +This word, in logic, measures the amount of predicates or marks attached +to a conception; but Dr. Carus’s criticisms seem to be based upon the +idea that by comprehension is meant logical breadth, or the amount of +subjects to which the conception is applicable. + +I am simply gravelled by his remarks (¶ 95) concerning sundry English +words. + +No more do I know what to make of his praise (¶ 123) of the German +translation of a French phrase used in the theory of functions, meaning +_univocally determined_. + +§ 4. One habit which goes far to obscure Dr. Carus’s meaning is that +whenever he finds his opinion at variance with a familiar saying, instead +of rejecting that formula, he retains it and changes the meaning. This is +calculated to throw the whole discussion into confusion. Thus, nothing is +more certain than that the so-called “law of identity,” or _A_ is _A_, +was intended to express the fact that every term is predicable of itself. +But Dr. Carus, simply because he finds that “meaningless and useless” (¶ +96), thinks himself authorised to confuse the terminology of logic by +making this formula, _A_ = _A_, under the same old name, mean that things +to which the same name is applicable are for some purpose equivalent. + +In like manner, he changes the meaning of the word _freedom_ (¶ 165), +so that the distinction between those who maintain and those who oppose +the freedom of the will may, in words, disappear. It seems scarcely +defensible for a thoroughgoing necessitarian, such as he is, to fly the +flag of Free Will. + +He, also, changes the meaning of _spontaneity_ so far that, according to +him, “masses gravitate spontaneously” (¶ 191), and so pretends that his +doctrine does not suppress the spontaneity of nature! + +§ 5. There are other questions of terminology in which I am unable to +agree with Dr. Carus. Thus, when I define necessitarianism as “the theory +that the will is subject to the general mechanical law of cause and +effect,” Dr. Carus (¶ 139) wishes to delete “mechanical.” But the result +would be to define a doctrine to which the advocates of free will would +generally subscribe, as readily as their opponents. In order properly to +limit the definition, it is quite requisite to exclude “free causation.” +By “mechanical” causation, I mean a causation entirely determinative, +like that of dynamics, but not necessarily operating upon matter. + +Dr. Carus mentions (¶ 84) that there are several different ideas to +which the term necessity is applied. It seems to me that what lies at +the bottom of all of them is the experience of reaction against one’s +will. In the simplest form, this gives the sense of reality. Dr. Carus +himself admits (¶ 46) that reality involves the idea of inevitable fate. +Yet philosophical necessity is a special case of universality. But the +universality, or better, the generality, of a pure form involves no +necessity. It is only when the form is materialised that the distinction +between necessity and freedom makes itself plain. These ideas are, +therefore, as it seems to me, of a mixed nature. Dr. Carus (¶¶ 91-94) +insists that by the necessary, he wishes to be understood to mean in +all cases the _inevitable_. This is the idea of _fate_, and is not the +conception which determinists usually attach to the term necessity. +Yet he does not appear to be quite consistent. At one time (¶ 88), he +carefully distinguishes necessity from fate. At another time (¶ 163), +every element of compulsion is to be excluded from the conception of +necessity. + +§ 6. One important key to Dr. Carus’s opinions is the recognition of the +fact that, like many other philosophers, he is a nominalist tinctured +with realistic opinions. + +He says (¶ 103), that “there is no need of discussing the truism that, +properly speaking, there is no absolute sameness.” Now, upon the +nominalistic theory, there is not only no absolute or numerical identity, +but there are not even any real agreements or likenesses between +individuals; for likeness consists merely in the calling of several +individuals by one name, or (in some systems) in their exciting one idea. +On the other hand, upon the realistic theory, the fact that identity is +a relation of reason does not in the least prevent it from being real. +On that theory, it is real unless it is _false_ that anything is itself. +Thus, upon either theory, identity is just as real as similarity. But +Dr. Carus, being a nominalist leaning toward realism, is inclined to +make dynamical relations real, and second-intentional ones unreal. This +opinion, I think, is a transitional one. + +The declaration (¶ 198) that “natural laws are simply a description +of nature as nature is,” and that “the facts of nature express the +character of nature,” are nominalistic. But in another place (¶¶ +107-116), he says distinctly that uniformities are real. + +He says (¶ 70), “Mr. Peirce attempts to explain natural laws as if they +were concrete and _single facts_.” This is eminently nominalistic. The +nominalist alone makes this sharp distinction between the abstract and +the concrete,[105] which must not be confounded with Hegel’s distinction +for which the same words are used. The nominalist alone falls into the +absurdity of talking of “single facts,” or _individual generals_. Yet +Dr. Carus says (¶ 68) that natural laws describe the facts of nature +_sub specie aeternitatis_. Now I understand Spinoza to be a realist. +In ¶117 he considers it “settled” “that there are samenesses.” This is +realistic. But in ¶ 120, he holds “the whole business of science to be to +systematise the samenesses of experience,” which is nominalistic. + +§ 7. Dr. Carus seems to be in some doubt as to how far evolutionism ought +to be carried. In ¶¶ 48-51, he seems to side with my contention that it +should be thoroughgoing. In ¶116, he makes intellect an evolution from +feeling. Yet he is sometimes (¶ 125) “inclined” to say the world never +was a chaos; he sometimes (¶ 61) thinks it weak to suppose that real +chance begets order; and he sometimes (¶ 68) goes so far as to pronounce +eternity to be the _conditio sine qua non_ of natural law. + +§ 8. Every reader of _The Monist_ knows that our good editor’s great word +is “formal law.” The clearest statement he has ever made of this doctrine +I find in the following two sentences (¶ 127): + + “The _a priori_ systems of thought are ... constructions + raised out of the recognition of the formal, i. e. relational + samenesses that appear in experience. All possibilities of a + certain class of relations can be exhausted and formulated in + theorems.”[106] + +This is perspicuous. For example, of pairs, we can easily show that +there are but two forms _A_:_A_ and _A_:_B_. This proposition,—theorem +if you will,—exhausts the possibilities. If we make believe there is no +danger of falling into error in mathematical reasoning,—and one danger, +though not, perhaps, a very serious one, _is_ eliminated,—then this +proposition is absolutely certain. But I will say, at once, that such a +proposition is not, in a proper sense, synthetic. It is a mere corollary +from the definition of a pair. Moreover, its application to experience, +or to possible experience, opens the door to probability, and shuts out +absolute necessity and certainty, _in toto_. + +Concerning points like this, Dr. Carus, in company with the general +body of thinkers, is laboring under a great disadvantage from not +understanding the logic of relatives. It is a subject I have been +studying for a great many years, and I feel and know that I have an +important report that I ought to make upon it. This branch of logic is, +however, so abstruse, that I have never been able to find the leisure to +translate my conclusions into a form in which their significance would +be manifest even to a powerful thinker whose thoughts had not long been +turned in that direction. I shall succeed in doing so, whenever I can +find myself in a situation where I need think of nothing else for months, +and not before. That may not be for thirty years; but I believe it is the +intention of providence that it should be. Meantime, I will testify, and +the reader can take my testimony for what he thinks it is worth, that +all deductive reasoning, except that kind which is so childishly simple +that acute minds have doubted whether there was any reasoning there,—I +mean non-relative syllogism,—requires an act of choice; because from a +given premise, several conclusions,—in some cases an infinite number,—can +be drawn. Hence, Dr. Carus is altogether too hasty in his confidence +(¶¶ 195, 196) that general thinking machines “are not impossibilities.” +An act of original and arbitrary determination would be required; and +it seems almost evident that no machine could perform such an act +except within narrow limits, thought out beforehand and embodied in +its construction. Moreover, positive observation is called for in all +inference, even the simplest,—though in deduction it is only observation +of an object of imagination. Moreover, a peculiar act which may properly +be called _abstraction_[107] is usually required, consisting in seizing +evanescent elements of thought and holding them before the mind as +“substantive” objects, to borrow a phrase from William James. At the +same time, the process I am describing, that is, relative deduction, is +perfectly general and demonstrative, and depends upon the truth of the +assumed premises, and not, like inductive reasoning, upon the manner in +which those premises present themselves. + +But the application of the logic of relatives shows that the propositions +of arithmetic, which Dr. Carus usually adduces as examples of formal law +(¶ 15), are, in fact, only corollaries from definitions. They are certain +only as applied to ideal constructions, and in such application, they are +merely analytical. + +The truth is our ideas about the distinction between analytical and +synthetical judgments is much modified by the logic of relatives, and +by the logic of probable inference. An analytical proposition is a +definition or a proposition _deducible_ from definitions; a synthetical +proposition is a proposition not analytical. Deduction, or analytical +reasoning, is, as I have shown in my “Theory of Probable Reasoning,” a +reasoning in which the conclusion follows (necessarily, or probably) from +the state of things expressed in the premises, in contradistinction to +scientific, or synthetical, reasoning, which is a reasoning in which the +conclusion follows probably and approximately from the premises, owing to +the conditions under which the latter have been observed, or otherwise +ascertained. The two classes of reasoning present, besides, some other +contrasts that need not be insisted upon in this place. They also present +some significant resemblances. Deduction is really a matter of perception +and of experimentation, just as induction and hypothetic inference are; +only, the perception and experimentation are concerned with imaginary +objects instead of with real ones. The operations of perception and of +experimentation are subject to error, and therefore it is only in a +Pickwickian sense that mathematical reasoning can be said to be perfectly +certain. It is so, only under the condition that no error creeps into +it: yet, after all, it is susceptible of attaining a practical certainty. +So, for that matter, is scientific reasoning; but not so readily. Again, +mathematics brings to light results as truly occult[108] and unexpected +as those of chemistry; only they are results dependent upon the action +of reason in the depths of our own consciousness, instead of being +dependent, like those of chemistry, upon the action of Cosmical Reason, +or Law. Or, stating the matter under another aspect, analytical reasoning +depends upon associations of similarity, synthetical reasoning upon +associations of contiguity. The logic of relatives, which justifies these +assertions, shows accordingly that deductive reasoning is really quite +different from what it was supposed by Kant to be; and this explains how +it is that he and others have taken various mathematical propositions +to be synthetical which in their ideal sense, as propositions of pure +mathematics, are in truth only analytical. + +Descending from things I can demonstrate to things of which various +facts, in the light of those demonstrations, fully persuade me, I +will say that in my opinion there are many synthetical propositions +which, if not _a priori_ in Dr. Carus’s sense, are, at least, innate +(notwithstanding his frequent denials of this, as in ¶ 15) though he +is quite right in saying that their abstract and distinct formulation +comes very late (¶ 126). But turn the facts as I will, I cannot see that +they afford the slightest reason for thinking that such propositions are +ever absolutely universal, exact, or necessary in their truth. On the +contrary, the principles of probable inference show this to be impossible. + +Dr. Carus adduces the instance of a geometrical proposition, namely, +“that two congruent regular tetrahedrons, when put together, will form a +hexahedron.” (¶ 25.) This, he says, seems to be “a very wonderful thing”; +for why should not a larger tetrahedron be formed, just as two heaps of +flour make a large heap of flour? Yet, he continues, the probability +that the two tetrahedrons do always make a hexahedron is 1, “which +means certainty” (¶ 27). But as it happens, the proposition, in the +form stated is quite erroneous. What is true is this. If two tetrahedra +are so placed that one face of each is coincident with one face of the +other, while all the other faces are inclined to one another, and if of +the 8 faces, the 2 that are coincident are not counted, there remain to +be counted 8-2=6 faces. But there is nothing more wonderful about this +than that 8-2=6, which is an easy corollary from definitions. Very few +propositions in mathematics that appear “marvellous” will hold water; and +those few excite our astonishment only because the real complexity of the +conditions are masked in an intuitional presentation of them. + +Dr. Carus holds (¶ 15) that formal knowledge is absolutely universal, +exact, and necessary. In some cases, as where he says that, given the +number of dimensions of space, the entire geometry could be deduced (¶ +35), the boasted infallibility will prove on examination to be downright +error. In all other cases, the propositions only relate to ideal +constructions, and their applicability to the real world is at the best +doubtful, and, as I think, false; while in their ideal purity, they are +not synthetical. + +Thus, my good friend and antagonist holds that the combination of oxygen +and hydrogen to produce water is not “different in principle” from that +of the tetrahedra to produce a hexahedron (¶ 26). There is all the +difference between the ideal and the real; which to my Scotistic mind is +very important. But this is not the only passage in which he speaks as if +form were the principle of individuation. + +§ 9. Dr. Carus’s position is even weaker than that of Kant, who makes +space, for example, a necessary form of thought (in a broad sense of that +term). But Dr. Carus appears to consider space as an absolute reality. +For he says (¶ 119) that “every single point of space has its special +and individual qualities.” Here again form is made the principle of +individuation; whence the queer phrase, “individual qualities.” + +§ 10. Dr. Carus argues that whatever is unequivocally determinate is +necessary. (¶ 124.) Were the determination spoken of real dynamic +determination, this would be a mere truism. But the expression used, +_eindeutig bestimmt_, merely expresses a mathematical determination, and +therefore no real necessity ensues. The equation + + (Transcriber’s Note: Italics have been removed from the + formulæ for readability.) + + x² - 23x + 132¼ = 0 + +determines _x_ to be either 11·477 or 11·523. In this sense, _x_ has +necessarily one value or the other. The equation + + x² - 12x + 6 = 0 + +determines _x_ to be either 11·477 or 0·523. Together, the two equations +uniquely determine _x_ to be 11·477. This shows how much that argument +amounts to. + +§ 11. By “sameness,” Dr. Carus means equivalence for a given purpose. (¶¶ +102, 106.) By the “idea of sameness,” he means (¶¶ 77, 96) the principle +that things having a common character are for some purpose equivalent. +This, he says, “has a solid basis in the facts of experience.” By a +“world of sameness” (¶ 113), he seems to mean one in which any two given +concrete things are in some respect equivalent. He argues (¶ 122) that +a “world of sameness is a world in which necessity rules.” I do not see +this. It seems to me so bald a _non sequitur_, that I cannot but suppose +the thought escapes my apprehension. If there were anything in the +argument, it would seem to be a marvellously expeditious way of settling +the whole dispute; and therefore it would have been worth the trouble of +stating, so as to bring it within the purview of minds like mine. + +§ 12. My candid opponent sometimes endorses emphatically the Leibnizian +principle. “Necessitarianism must be founded on something other than +observation. Observation is _a posteriori_; it has reference to single +facts, to particulars; yet the doctrine of necessity ... is of universal +application. The doctrine of necessity ... is of an _a priori_ nature.” +(¶ 11.) “Millions of single experiences ... cannot establish a solid +belief in necessity.” (¶ 14.) “No amount of experience is sufficient to +constitute causation by a mere synthesis of sequences.” (¶ 22.) “Millions +of millions of cases” constitute “no proof” that a proposition “is always +so.” (¶ 29.) + +Nevertheless, he holds that the law of “the conservation of matter and +energy” so conclusively proves necessary causation, that the obstinacy +of Hume, himself, could not have withstood the argument. (¶ 23.) One +wonders, then, what is supposed to prove this “law of the conservation of +matter and energy,” if no amount of experience can prove it. + +But the _a priori_ itself can “be based on the firm ground of +experience.” (¶ 14.) In that case, it is not prior to experience, after +all! “The idea of necessity is based upon the conception of sameness, +and ... the existence of sameness is a fact of experience.” (¶ 87.) +If absolute necessity can be irrefragably demonstrated from the fact +that two things are alike, it is a pity Dr. Carus should not state +this demonstration in a form, that I, and men like me, can understand. +That would be more to the purpose than merely saying it can be proved. +Absolute chance is rejected as “involving a violation of laws well +established by _positive evidence_.” (¶ 149.) + +All these _denials_ that absolute necessity can be established and +absolute chance refuted by experiential evidence, mixed with as clear +_assertions_ of the same things, when taken together, have the appearance +of an attempt, as the politicians say, to “straddle” the question. + +§13. But the ingenious Doctor seeks to bolster up necessity by +introducing the confused notion of “causation.” + +I do not know where the idea originated that a cause is an instantaneous +state of things, perfectly determinative of every subsequent state. It +seems to be at the bottom of Kant’s discourse on the subject; yet it +accords neither with the original conception of a cause, nor with the +principles of mechanics. The original idea of an efficient cause is +that of an agent, more or less like a man. It is prior to the effect, +in the sense of having come into being before the latter; but it is not +transformed into the effect. In this sense, it may happen that an event +is a cause of a subsequent event; seldom, however, is it the principal +cause. Far less are events the only causes. The modern mechanical +conception, on the other hand, is that the relative positions of +particles determine their accelerations at the instants when they occupy +those positions. In other words, if the positions of all the particles +are given at _two_ instants (together with the law of force), then +the positions at all other instants may be deduced.[109] This doctrine +conflicts with Kant’s second analogy of experience, as interpreted by +him, in no less than four essential particulars. In the first place, far +from involving any principle that could properly be termed generation, or +_Erzeugung_, which is Kant’s word for the sequence of effect from cause, +the modern mechanical doctrine is a doctrine of persistence, and, as I +have repeatedly explained, positively prohibits any real growth. In the +second place, one state of things (i. e. one configuration of the system) +is not sufficient to determine a second, it is two that determine a +third. To whomsoever may think that this is an inconsiderable divergence +of opinions, let me say, study the logic of relatives, and you will think +so no longer. In the third place, the two determining configurations, +according to mechanics, may be taken at almost any two instants, and the +determined configuration be taken at any third instant we like. _There is +no mechanical truth in saying that the past determines the future, rather +than the future the past._ We habitually follow tradition in continuing +to use that form of expression, but every mathematician knows that it is +nothing but a form of expression. We continue, for convenience, to talk +of mechanical phenomena as if they were regulated, in the same manner +in which our intentions regulate our actions (which is essentially a +determination of the future by the past), although we are quite aware +that it is not really so. Remark how Kant reasons: + + “If it is a necessary law of our sensibility, and consequently + a _formal condition_ of all perceptions, that the preceding + time determines the following, (since I can only come to + the following through the preceding,) then is it also an + indispensable _law of the empirical representation_ of the + time-series that the appearances of the preceding time + determine every occurrence in the following.” + +What this leads to is a causality like that of mental phenomena, where it +_is_ the past which determines the future, and _not_ (in the same sense) +the reverse; but the doctrine of the conservation of energy consists +precisely in the denial that anything like this occurs in the domain of +physics. Had Kant studied the psychological phenomena more attentively +and generalised them more broadly, he would have seen that in the mind +causation is not absolute, but follows such a curve as is traced in my +essay towards “The Law of Mind” (_The Monist_, Vol. II, 550). Does our +judicious editor deem it ungracious to find fault with Kant for not doing +so much more than he did, considering what that hero-like achievement +was? We must seem to carp, as long as thinkers can hold that achievement +for sufficient. In the fourth place, Kant’s “Analogy” ignores that +continuity which is the life-blood of mathematical thought. He deals +with those awkward chunks of phenomenon, called “events.” He represents +one such “event” as determined by certain others, definitely, while +the rest have nothing to do with it. It is impossible to cement such +thought as this into hermetic continuity with the refined conceptions of +modern dynamics. The statement that every instantaneous state of things +determines precisely all subsequent states, and not at all any previous +states, could, I rather think, be shown to involve a contradiction. + +The notion which Dr. Carus holds of a cause seems to be that it is a +state, embracing all the positions and velocities of all the masses at +one instant, the effect being a similar state for any subsequent instant. +(¶¶ 21, 24.) This breaks at once with common parlance, with dynamics, +and with philosophical logic. In common parlance, we do not say that +the position and upward velocity of a missile is the cause of its being +at a subsequent instant lower down and moving with a greater downward +velocity.[110] In dynamics, it is the fixed force, gravitation, or +whatever else, together with those relative positions of the bodies that +determine the intensity and direction of the forces, that is regarded +as the cause. But these causes are not previous to, but simultaneous +with, their effects, which are the instantaneous accelerations. Finally, +logic opposes our calling one of two states which equally determine one +another (as any two states of a system do, if the velocities are taken to +be included in these states) _the_ determinator, or cause, simply because +of the circumstance that it precedes the other in time,—a circumstance +that is upon the principles of dynamics plainly insignificant and +irrelevant. + +Everybody will make slips in the use of words that have been on his lips +from before the time when he learned to think; but the practice which +I endeavor to follow in regard to the word _cause_, is to use it in +the Aristotelian sense of an _efficient cause_, in all its crudeness. +In short, I refuse to use it at all as a philosophical word. When my +conception is of a dynamical character, I endeavor to employ the accepted +terminology of dynamics;[111] and when my idea is a more general and +logical one, I prefer to speak of the _explanation_. + +§ 14. Dr. Carus thinks the element of necessity in causation can be +demonstrated by considering the process as a transformation. “It is a +sequence of two states which belong together as an initial and final +aspect of one and the same event.” (¶ 21. Compare ¶¶ 20, 24.) He neglects +to explain how he brings under this formula the inward causation of the +will and character, as set forth by him in ¶¶ 163-167. + +It is unnecessary for me to reply, at length, to an argument so +manifestly inconclusive. On the one hand, it conflicts with the principle +that absolute necessity cannot be proved from experience; and on the +other hand, it leaves room for an imperfect necessity. + +Professor Tait has done an ill office to thought in countenancing the +idea that the conservation of energy is of the same nature as the +“conservation,” or rather perduration, of matter. Dr. Carus says (¶ 121) +that + + “The law of the conservation of matter and energy rests upon + the experience (corroborated by experiments) that causation + is transformation. It states that the total amount of matter + and the total amount of energy remain constant. There is no + creation out of nothing and no conversion of something into + nothing.” + +The historical part of this statement contains only a small grain of +truth; but that I will not stop to criticise. The point I wish to make +is that the law of the conservation of energy is here represented under +a false aspect. The true substance of the law is that the accelerations, +or rates of change, of the motions of the particles at any instant depend +solely on their relative positions at those instants. The equation which +expresses the law under this form is a differential equation of the +second order; that is, it involves the rates of change of the rates of +change of positions, together with the positions themselves. Now, because +of the purely analytic proposition of the differential calculus that + + Dₜ²s = ½Dₛ(Dₜs)², + +the first integral of the differential equation of the second order, that +is, the differential equation of the first order which expresses the same +state of things, equates half the sum of the masses, each multiplied by +the square of its velocity, to a function of the relative positions of +the particles _plus_ an arbitrary constant.[112] In order to fix our +ideas, let us take a very simple example, that of a single particle +accelerated towards an infinite plane, at a rate proportional to the +_n_ᵗʰ power of its distance from the plane. In this case, if _s_ be the +distance, the second differential equation will be + + Dₜ²s = -asⁿ, + +and the first integral of it will be + + (Dₜs)² = -(²ᵃ⁄ₙ₊₁)sⁿ⁺¹ + C. + +By the first law of motion, and the Pythagorean proposition, the part +of the velocity-square depending on the horizontal component is also +constant. + +The arbitrary constant, _C_, plainly has its genesis in the fact that +forces do not determine velocities, but only accelerations. Its value +will be fixed as soon as the velocity at any instant is known. This +quantity would exist, just the same, and be independent of the time, and +would therefore be “conserved” whether the forces were “conservative,” +that is, simply positional, or not. Now, this constant is the energy; +or rather, the energy is composed of this constant increased by another +which is absolutely indeterminable, being merely supposed large enough to +make the sum positive. + +Thus, the law of energy does not prescribe that the total amount of +energy shall remain constant; for this would be so in any case by virtue +of the second law of motion; but what it prescribes is that the total +energy diminished by the living force shall give a remainder which +depends upon the relative positions of the particles and not upon the +time or the velocities. It is also to be noticed that the energy has +no particular magnitude, or quantity. Furthermore, in transformations +of kinetical energy into positional energy, and the reverse, the +different portions of energy do not retain their identity, any more +than, in book-keeping, the identity of the amounts of different items +is preserved. In short, the conservation of energy, (I do not mean the +_law_ of conservation,) is a mere result of algebra. Very different is +it with the “conservation” of matter. For, in the first place, the total +mass is a perfectly definite quantity; and, in the second place, in all +its transformations, not only is the _total_ amount constant, but all the +different parts preserve their identity. To speak, therefore, of “the +conservation of matter and energy,” is to assimilate facts of essentially +contrary natures; and to say that the law of the conservation of energy +makes the total amount of energy constant is to attribute to this law +a phenomenon really due to another law, and to overlook what this law +really does determine, namely, _that the total energy less the kinetic +energy gives a remainder which is exclusively positional_. + +§ 15. Dr. Carus does not make it clear what he means by _chance_. He +does, indeed, say (¶¶ 145, 146): + + “What is chance? + + “Chance is any event not especially intended, either not + calculated, or, with a given and limited stock of knowledge, + incalculable.” + +This defines what he means by a chance event, in the concrete; what he +understands by probability, we are left to conjecture. But from what he +says in ¶ 147, I infer that he regards it as dependent upon the state of +our ignorance, and therefore nothing real. + +I am, therefore, much puzzled when I find him expressing a conviction +(¶¶ 88, 156) that chance plays an important part in the real world. He +explains very distinctly that “when we call a throw of the dice pure +chance, we mean that the incidents which condition the turning up of +these or those special faces of the dice have not been, or cannot be, +calculated.” (¶ 147.) This is the commonest, because the shallowest, +philosophy of chance. Even Venn might teach him better than that. +However, according to that view, when he writes of “the important part +that chance plays in the world,—not absolute chance ... but that same +chance of which the throw of the die is a typical instance” (¶ 88), he +can be understood to mean no more than that many things happen which we +are not in condition to calculate or predict. This is not playing a part +_in the world_, one would say—at least, not in the natural world; it is +only playing a part in our ignorance. + +Dr. Carus frequently uses phrases which make us suspect he penetrates +deeper. Thus, he says, “we do not believe in absolute chance, but we +believe in chance” (¶ 144); and again, “Every man is the architect of +his own fortune—but not entirely. There are sometimes coincidences +determining the fates of men.” (¶ 161.) But when we remark the +consecution of ¶¶ 137-162, we feel pretty sure he really sees no +further. To do so would have been to perceive that indefinitely varied +specificalness _is_ chance. + +For a long time, I myself strove to make chance that diversity in the +universe which laws leave room for, instead of a violation of law, or +lawlessness. That was truly believing in chance that was not absolute +chance. It was recognising that chance does play a part in the real +world, apart from what we may know or be ignorant of. But it was a +transitional belief which I have passed through, while Dr. Carus seems +not to have reached it. + +As for absolute chance, Dr. Carus makes the momentous admission that +it is “not unimaginable” (¶ 150). If so, its negation, or absolute +necessity, cannot be a formal principle. + +§ 16. But it is time for me to leave the consideration of Dr. Carus’s +system and to take up his strictures upon mine. His philosophy is one +eminently enlightened by modern ideas, which it synthetises to an +unusual extent. It is distinguished for its freedom from the vice of +one-sidedness, and displays every facet of the gem of philosophical +inquiry, except the one on which it rests, the question of absolute +law. Its prominent faults, which I feel sure must have struck every +competent reader, are that it shows little trace of meditation upon the +thoughts of the great idealists, and that there is a certain want of +congruity between different elements of it. How strangely it sounds, +for instance, to find an apriorian, and one who is dinging “formal +laws” so perpetually into our ears, one who holds that “in order to +weave the woof of the _a posteriori_ elements into coherent cloth, we +want the warp of the _a priori_” (¶ 15), to find this man declaring for +a positivism “which accepts no doctrine, theory, or law, unless it be +a formulation of facts,” and proclaiming that “the whole business of +science is to systematise the samenesses of experience, and to present +them in convenient formulas” (¶ 120). Now there is just one way of +bringing such warring elements into harmony, and curing the greatest +defect of the system,—and it is a way which would also bring the whole +into far better concordance with natural science. It is to lop off the +heads of all absolute propositions Whose subject is not the Absolute, +and reduce them to the level of probable and approximate statements. +Were that defalcation performed, Dr. Carus’s philosophy would, in its +general features, offer no violent opposition to my opinions. Moreover, +the Doctor has at heart the conciliation of religion and science. I +confess such serious concern makes me smile; for I think the atonement +he desires is a thing which will come to pass of itself when time is +ripe, and that our efforts to hasten it have just that slight effect +that our efforts to hasten the ripening of apples on a tree may have. +Besides, natural ripening is the best. Let science and religion each have +stout faith in itself, and refuse to compromise with alien and secondary +purposes, but push the development of its own thought on its own line; +and then, when reconcilement comes,—as come it surely will,—it will have +a positive value, and be an unmixed good. But since our accomplished +editor thinks himself called upon to assist in this birth of time, let +me ask him whether of all the conditions of such peace, the first is not +that religious thought should abandon that extravagant absoluteness of +assertion which is proper to the state of intellectual infancy, but which +it has so long been too timid to let go? This pragmatical and unneeded +absoluteness it is which is most deeply contrary to the method, the +results, and the whole spirit of science; and no error can be greater +than to fancy that science, or scientific men, rest upon it or readily +tolerate it. + +§ 17. Dr. Carus (¶¶ 56-64) condemns my method of investigation as +contrary to that by which science has been advanced; and holds that a +radically different, and thoroughly positivistic method is requisite,—a +method so intensely positivistic as to exclude all originality. I suppose +he will not object to my forming an opinion concerning the methods of +science. I was brought up in an atmosphere of scientific inquiry, and +have all my life chiefly lived among scientific men. For the last thirty +years, the study which has constantly been before my mind has been upon +the nature, strength, and history of methods of scientific thought. I +have no space here to argue the question. In its logical aspect, I have +partly considered it in various publications; and in its historical +aspect, I have long been engaged upon a treatise about it. My critic says +(¶ 57) that 1 am “very positivistic in my logic of science.” This is a +singular misapprehension. Few of the great scientific minds with whom +I have come into personal contact, and from whom I endeavored to learn +were disposed to contemn originality or the ideal part of the mind’s work +in investigation; and those few, it was easy to see, really breathed an +atmosphere of ideas which were so incessantly present that they were +unconscious of them. Were I to name those of my teachers who were most +positivistic in theory, a smile would be excited. My own historical +studies, which have been somewhat minutely critical, have, on the whole +confirmed the views of Whewell, the only man of philosophical power +conjoined with scientific training who had made a comprehensive survey +of the whole course of science, that progress in science depends upon +the observation of the right facts by minds _furnished with appropriate +ideas_. Finally, my long investigation of the logical process, of +scientific reasoning led me many years ago to the conclusion that science +is nothing but a development of our natural instincts. So much for my +_theory_ of scientific logic. It is as totally opposed as anything can +be to Dr. Carus’s theory (¶ 69, note; and “Ursache, Grund und Zweck,” p. +2) that originality is out of place in science. + +But in my _practice_ of scientific reasoning, Dr. Carus accuses me of +being what he calls a “constructionist”; that is, a theoriser unguided by +indications from observation or accepted facts. To a mind upon whom that +celebrated and splendid chapter of Kant upon the architectonical method +failed to make a deep impression, I may appear so; but _travesty_ is in +truth hardly too strong a word to describe the account of my method by +Dr. Carus. + +Perhaps exaggeration is not without its value. If so, let me sum up the +method Dr. Carus recommends. Eschew originality, is its pious formula; +do not think for yourself, nor countenance results obtained by original +minds. Distrust them; they are not safe men. Leave originality to +mathematicians and their breed, to poets, and to all those who seek the +sad notoriety of having unsettled belief.[113] Flee all philosophies +which smack of this aberrant nineteenth century.[114] This theory of Dr. +Carus condemns itself; for it is highly original, and soars into the free +ether untrammelled by historic facts. + +Keppler comes very close to realising my ideal of the scientific method; +and he is one of the few thinkers who have taken their readers fully into +their confidence as to what their method really has been.[115] I should +not feel justified in inflicting upon mine an autobiographical account +of my own course of thought; but some things Dr. Carus’s accusation +forces me to mention. My method of attacking all problems has ever been +to begin with an historical and rational inquiry into the special method +adapted to the special problem. This is the essence of my architectonical +proceeding upon which Dr. Carus has commented very severely. To look an +inch before one’s nose involves originality: therefore, it is wrong to +have a conscious method. But further, in regard to philosophy, not only +the methods, but the elementary ideas which are to enter into those +methods, should be subjected to careful preliminary examination. This, +especially, Dr. Carus finds very unscientific. (¶ 64, and elsewhere.) +It is, undoubtedly, the most characteristic feature of my procedure. +Certainly it was not a notion hastily or irreflectively caught up; but +is the maturest fruit of a lifetime of reflection upon the methods of +science, including those of philosophy; and if it shall be found that one +contribution to thought on my part has proved of permanent service, that, +I expect, will be the one. This method in no wise teaches that the method +and materials for thought are not to be modified in the course of the +study of the subject-matter. But instead of taking ideas at haphazard, or +being satisfied with those that have been handed down from the good old +times, as a mind keenly alive to the dangers of originality would have +done, I have undertaken to make a systematic survey of human knowledge +(a very slight sketch of which composed the substance of my paper on +the “Architecture of Theories,”) in order to find what ideas have, as a +fact, proved most fruitful, and to observe the special utilities they +have severally fulfilled. A subsidiary object of this survey was to note +what the great obstacles are to-day in the way of the further advance of +the different branches of science. In my “Architecture of Theories,” I +never professed to do more than make a slight sketch of a small portion +of my preliminary studies, devoting thirteen lines to some hints as to +the nature of the results. In the four following papers I have given +a selection of a few of these results. Among those which remain to be +reported are some of much more immediate importance than any of those +hitherto set forth. If anybody has been surprised to find my subsequent +papers developing thoughts which they were unable to foresee from my +first, it is only what I warned people from the outset that they would +find to happen. Nor have the greatest of these surprises yet been +reached.[116] + +The next series of facts reviewed was that of the history of philosophy. +I waded right into this fearful slough of “originality,” in order to +gather what seemed to throw a light upon the subject. Finally, I reviewed +the general facts of the universe. + +I now found myself forced by a great many different indications to +the conclusion that an evolutionary philosophy of some kind must be +accepted,—including among such philosophies systems like those of +Aristotle and of Hegel. From this point the reasoning was more rapid. +Evolution had been a prominent study for half a generation; and much +light had been thrown upon the conditions for a fruitful evolutionary +philosophy. The first question was, how far shall this evolution go back? +What shall we suppose _not_ to be a product of growth? I fancy it is this +cautious reflectiveness of my procedure which especially displeases Dr. +Carus. It is not positivistic: it is architectonic. But the answer to the +question was not far to seek. If an evolutionary explanation is to be +adopted, philosophy, logic, and the economy of research all dictate that +in the first essay, at least, that style of explanation be carried as far +back as explanation is called for. What elements of the universe require +no explanation? This was a simple question, capable of being decided +by logic with as much facility and certainty as a suitable problem is +solved by differential calculus. Being, and the uniformity in which being +consists, require to be explained. The only thing that does not require +it is non-existent spontaneity. This was soon seen to mean absolute +chance. The conclusion so reached was clinched by a careful reëxamination +of the office of chance in science generally, and especially in the +doctrines of evolution. Arrived at this point, the next question was, +what is the principle by which the development is to proceed? It was a +difficult inquiry, and involved researches from different points of view. + +But I will not trouble the reader with further autobiographical details. +I have given enough to show that my method has neither been in theory +purely empirical, nor in practice mere brain-spinning; and that, in +short, my friend Dr. Carus’s account of it has been as incorrect as can +be. + +§ 18. The learned doctor (¶¶ 6, 7, 8) pronounces me to be an imitator of +David Hume, or, at least, classes my opinions as closely allied to his. +Yet be it known that never, during the thirty years in which I have been +writing on philosophical questions, have I failed in my allegiance to +realistic opinions and to certain Scotistic ideas; while all that Hume +has to say is said at the instance and in the interest of the extremest +nominalism. Moreover, instead of being a purely negative critic, like +Hume, seeking to annul a fundamental conception generally admitted, +I am a positive critic, pleading for the admission to a place in our +scheme of the universe for an idea generally rejected. In the first +paper of this series, in which I gave a preliminary sketch of such of my +ideas as could be so presented, I carefully recorded my opposition to +all philosophies which deny the reality of the Absolute, and asserted +that “the one intelligible theory of the universe is that of objective +idealism, that matter is effete mind.” This is as much as to say that I +am a Schellingian, of some stripe; so that, on the whole, I do not think +Dr. Carus has made a very happy hit in likening me to Hume, to whose +whole method and style of philosophising I have always been perhaps too +intensely averse. Yet, notwithstanding my present disclaimer, I have +little doubt apriorians will continue to describe me as belonging to the +sceptical school. They have their wonderful ways of arriving at truth, +without stooping to confront their conclusions with facts; and it is +amusing to see how sincerely they are convinced that nobody can have +science at heart, without denying all they uphold.[117] + +My opponent has a habit of throwing out surprising opinions without +the least attempt to illuminate them with the effulgence of reason. +Thus he says (¶ 8): “If Kant’s answer to Hume had been satisfactory, +Mr. Peirce would probably not have renewed the attack.” What attack? +All that Hume attacked I defend, namely, law as a reality. How could a +defence of that which I defend as essential to my position, cause me to +surrender that position, namely, that real regularity is imperfect? In +any sense in which Hume could have admitted the possibility of law, it +must be precisely followed; since its existence could consist only in +the conformity of facts unto it. But perhaps Dr. Carus means that if one +question had been completely settled, I should probably have confined +myself to talking about that, instead of broaching a new one. + +§ 19. Another misunderstanding of my position on the part of Dr. Carus +(¶¶ 12, 13) is simply due to “boldly” having been twice printed where +the reading should have been “baldly,” in my paper on “The Doctrine of +Necessity.” (_The Monist_, Vol. II, p. 336, lines 20 and 25.) I wish +printers would learn that I never use the word _bold_. I have so little +of the quality, that I don’t know what it means. As I read the “revise,” +as usual, it was presumably my fault that the _erratum_ occurred. At any +rate, had my meaning been clearly expressed, the proof-reader would not +have been misled by my defective chirography. What I was trying to say +was, in substance, this: Absolute chance is a hypothesis; and, like every +hypothesis, can only be defended as explaining certain phenomena.[118] +Yet to suppose that an event is brought about by absolute chance is +utterly illogical, since as a hypothesis it could only be admitted on +the ground of its explaining observed facts; now from mere non-law +nothing necessarily follows, and therefore nothing can be explained; for +to explain a fact is to show that it is a necessary, or, at least, a +probable, result from another fact, known or supposed. Why is not this a +complete refutation of the theory of absolute chance? _Answer_: because +the _existence_ of absolute chance, as well as many of its characters, +are not themselves absolute chances, or sporadic events, unsubject to +general law. On the contrary, these things _are_ general laws. Everybody +is familiar with the fact that chance has laws, and that statistical +results follow therefrom. Very well: I do not propose to explain +anything as due to the action of chance, that is, as being lawless. I +do not countenance the idea that Bible stories, for instance, show that +nature’s laws were violated;—though they may help to show that nature’s +laws are not so mechanical as we are accustomed to think. But I only +propose to explain the regularities of nature as consequences of the only +uniformity, or general fact, there was in the chaos, namely, the general +absence of any, determinate law.[119] In fact, after the first step is +taken, I only use _chance_ to give room for the development of law by +means of the law of habits. + +§ 20. In ¶ 28, I read: “Mr. Peirce does not object to necessity in +certain cases; he objects to necessity being a universal feature of +the world.” This is correctly stated, and so it is in ¶ 203. I object +to necessity being universal, as well as to its ever being exact. In +short, I object to absolute universality, absolute exactitude, absolute +necessity, being attributed to any proposition that does not deal with +the Α and the Ω, in the which I do not include any object of ordinary +knowledge. But it is careless to write (¶ 193) that I “describe the +domain of mind as the absence of law.” Is not one of my papers entitled +“The Law of Mind”? It is true that I make the law of mind essentially +different in its mode of action from the law of mechanics, inasmuch as +it requires its own violation; but it is law, not chance uncontrolled. +That it is not “an undetermined and indeterminable sporting” should have +been obvious from my expressly stating that its ultimate result must +be the entire elimination of chance from the universe. That directly +negatives the adjective “indeterminable,” and hence also the adjective +“undetermined.” Still more unwarranted is the statement (¶ 205) that +I deny “that there are samenesses in this world.” If the slightest +excuse for such an accusation can be found in all my writings I shall be +mightily surprised. + +§ 21. Dr. Carus fully admits (¶ 9) the justice of my first reply to the +argument that necessity is postulated in all scientific reasoning, which +reply is that to postulate necessity does not make it true. As this +reply, if correct is complete, Dr. Carus was bound after that admission +to drop the postulate-argument in favor of necessity.[120] But he takes +no notice, at all, of my four-page argument to show that scientific +reasoning does _not_ postulate absolute universality, exactitude, or +necessity (_The Monist_, Vol. II, pp. 324-327); but calmly asserts, +four or five times over (¶¶ 5, 11, 16, 62, 79), without one scintilla +of argumentation, that that postulate _is_ made, and uses this as an +argument in favor of necessity. + +§ 22. He also fully admits (¶¶ 11, 14, 22) the justice of my argument +that the absoluteness of universality, exactitude, and necessity, cannot +be proved, nor rendered probable, by arguments from observation. That +argument consisted in assuming that all arguments from observation are +probable arguments, and in showing that probable inferences are always +affected with probable errors. + +Had I deemed it requisite, I might easily have fortified that argument +by a more profound analysis of scientific reasoning. Such an analysis I +had formerly given in my “Theory of Probable Inference” (in “Studies in +Logic,” Boston: Little and Brown). + +But, notwithstanding his admissions, Dr. Carus sets up his _ipse dixit_ +against my argumentation. “We deny most positively,” says the editorial +Elohim, “that the calculus of probabilities is applicable to the order of +the world, as to whether it may or may not be universal.” (¶¶ 27, 31.) + +To support this, he cites (¶¶ 31-34) four passages from articles written +by me sixteen years ago. I hope my mind has not been stationary during +all these years; yet there is little in those old articles which I now +think positively erroneous, and nothing in the passages cited. My present +views had, at that time, already begun to urge themselves on my mind; +but they were not ripe for public avowal. In the first of the passages +cited, I express the opinion, which I first uttered in my earlier +lectures before the Lowell Institute, in 1866, afterwards in the _Popular +Science Monthly_ in 1877, in still fuller elaboration in my “Theory +of Probable Inference” in 1882, and maintain now as strongly as ever, +that no definite probability can be assigned to any general arrangement +of nature. To speak of an _antecedent_ probability would imply that +there was a statistical science of different universes; and a _deduced_ +probability requires an antecedent probability for one of its data.[121] +This consideration only goes to fortify my present position, that we +cannot conclude from observed facts with any degree of probability, +and therefore _a fortiori_ not with certainty, that any proposition is +absolutely universal, exact, or necessary. In the absence of any weight +of probability in favor of any particular exact statement, the formal +presumption is altogether against any one out of innumerable possible +statements of that kind. + +The second passage cited is one in which I argue that the universe is +not a chaos, or chance-medley. Now Dr. Carus admits (¶ 28) that I do not +to-day maintain that it is a chance-medley. + +The third passage cited is this: “A contradiction is involved in the +very idea of a chance-world.” This is in entire harmony with my present +position that “a chaos ... being without connection or regularity would +properly be without existence.” (“Architecture of Theories,” _The +Monist_, Vol. I, p. 176.) + +The fourth passage is to the effect that “the interest which the +uniformities of nature have for an animal measures his place in the scale +of intelligence.” This I still believe. + +So much for my supposed contradictions. If I am not mistaken, our +amiable editor, whose admirable editorship springs so largely out of his +amiability, in copying out these passages was really not half so much +intent on showing me to be wrong at present, as on showing me to have +been right formerly. However hard he hits, he contrives to honey his +sockdologers, and sincerely cares more to make the reader admire his +antagonist when he is right than to condemn him when he is wrong. There +is a touch of art in this that proclaims the born editor, and which I can +hardly hope to imitate. + +Though Dr. Carus admits over and over again that necessity cannot be +based on observation, he often slips back to the idea that it can be so +based. He says, (¶ 30) that “form is a quality of this world, not of some +samples of it, but throughout, so far as we know of existence in even the +most superficial way.” But does he not see that all we _do_ know, and all +we _shall_ to-morrow, or at any date know, is nothing but a sample of our +possible experience,—nay, is but a sample of what we are in the future +to have already experienced? I have characterised inductive inference as +reasoning from samples; but the most usual way of sampling a class is by +examining _all_ the instances of it that have come under our observation, +or which we can at once collect. + +§ 23. Dr. Carus (¶¶ 44, 46) holds that from my social theory of reality, +namely, that the real is the idea in which the community ultimately +settles down, the existence of something inevitable is to be inferred. +I confess I never anticipated that anybody would urge that. I thought +just the reverse might be objected, namely, that all absoluteness was +removed from reality by that theory, and it was many years ago that, in +my “Theory of Probable Inference,” I admitted the obvious justice, as +it seemed to me, of that objection. We cannot be quite sure that the +community ever will settle down to an unalterable conclusion upon any +given question. Even if they do so for the most part, we have no reason +to think the unanimity will be quite complete, nor can we rationally +presume any overwhelming _consensus_ of opinion will be reached upon +every question. All that we are entitled to assume is in the form of a +_hope_ that such conclusion may be substantially reached concerning the +particular questions with which our inquiries are busied. + +Such, at least, are the results to which the consideration of the +doctrine of probability brings my mind irresistibly. So that, the social +theory of reality, far from being incompatible with tychism, inevitably +leads up to that form of philosophy. Socialistic, or as I prefer to term +it, agapastic ontology seems to me likely to find favor with many minds +at an early day, because it is a natural path by which the nominalist may +be led into the realistic ways of thought, ways toward which many facts +and inward forces impel him. It is well, therefore, to call attention +to the circumstances that the realism to which it leads is a doctrine +which declares general truths to be real,—independent of the opinions +of any particular collection of minds,—but not to be destined, in a +strictly universal, exact, and sure acceptation, to be so settled, and +established. Now to assert that general truths are objectively real, +but to deny that they are strictly universal, exact, and certain, is to +embrace the doctrine of absolute chance. Thus it is that the agapastic +ontologist who endeavors to escape tychism will find himself “led into” +that “inextricable confusion” which Dr. Carus (¶ 4) has taken a contract +to show that I am led into. + +§ 24. Conservatism is wholesome and necessary; the most convinced radical +must admit the wisdom of it, in the abstract; and a conservative will +be in no haste to espouse the doctrine of absolute chance. I, myself, +pondered over it for long years before doing so. But I am persuaded, at +length, that mankind will before very long take up with it; and I do not +believe philosophers will be found tagging on to the tail of the general +procession. + +My little dialogue between the tychist and the necessitarian (_The +Monist_, Vol. II, pp. 331-333) seems to have represented pretty fairly +the views of the latter; for Dr. Carus, in ¶¶ 151-155, does little more +than reiterate them, without much, if at all, reinforcing them. His ¶¶ +158-160 merely work out, in a form perhaps not quite clear, what is +manifest from the elementary principles of dynamics, and was considered +in my dialogue. + +His arguments in this connection, apart from those already noticed, are +that absolute chance is something which if it existed would require +explanation, that the manifold specificalness of nature is explained by +law without any aid from chance, and that absolute chance if it existed, +in the sense in which it is supposed to exist in my chaos, could not +possibly breed law as supposed by me. To the consideration of these +arguments I proceed to apply myself. + +§ 25. One of the architectonic—and, therefore, I suppose, by Dr. +Carus considered as highly reprehensible—features of my theory, is +that, instead of saying off-hand what elements strike me as requiring +explanation and what as not doing so, which seems to be his way, I +have devoted a long time to the study of the whole logical doctrine of +explanation, and of the history of explanations, and have based upon the +general principles so ascertained my conclusions as to what things do and +what do not require to be explained. + +Dr. Carus (¶ 67) defines _explanation_ as a description of a special +process of nature in such a way that the process is recognised as a +transformation. This I cannot quite grant. First, I cannot admit that +“special processes of nature” are the only things to be explained. +For instance, if I were to meet a gentleman who seemed to conform +scrupulously to all the usages of good society, except that he wore to +an evening party an emerald satin vest, that would be a fact calling for +explanation, although it would not be a “special process of nature.” +Second, I cannot admit that an explanation is a description of the fact +explained. It is true that in the setting forth of some explanations, +it is convenient to restate the fact explained, so as to set it under +another aspect; but even in these cases, the statement of _other_ facts +is essential. In all cases, it is _other facts_, usually hypothetical, +which constitute the explanation; and the process of explaining is a +process by which from those other facts the fact to be explained is +shown to follow as a consequence, by virtue of a general principle, or +otherwise. Thus, a “special process of nature” calling for explanation +is the circumstance that the planet Mars, while moving in a general way +from west to east among the fixed stars, yet retrogrades a part of the +time, so as to describe loops in the heavens. The explanation is that +Mars revolves in one approximate circle and we in another. Again, it has +been stated that a warm spring in Europe is usually followed by a cool +autumn, and the explanation has been offered that so many more icebergs +than usual are liberated during a warm spring, that they subsequently +lower sensibly the temperature of Europe. I care little whether the +fact and the explanation are correct or no. The case illustrates, at +any rate, my point that an explanation is a special fact, supposed or +known, from which the fact to be explained follows as a consequence. +Third, I cannot admit that every description which recognises the fact +described as a transformation is an explanation; far less that “it is +complete and exhaustive” (¶ 67). A magician transforms a watch into a +dove. Recognise it as a transformation and the trick is explained, is +it? This is delightfully facile. Describe the change from a caterpillar +to a butterfly as a transformation, and does that explain it? Fourth, I +cannot admit that every explanation recognises the fact explained as a +transformation. The explanation of the loops in the motion of Mars is not +of that nature. But I willingly recognise in Dr. Carus’s definition an +attempt,—more or less successful,—to formulate one of the great offices +of scientific inquiry, that of bridging over the gap between the familiar +and the unfamiliar. + +_Explanation_, however, properly speaking, is the replacement of a +complex predicate, or one which seems improbable or extraordinary, by +a simple predicate from which the complex predicate follows on known +principles. In like manner, a _reason_, in one sense, is the replacement +of a multiple subject of an observational proposition by a general +subject, which by the very conditions of the special experience is +predicable of the multiple subject.[122] Such a reason may be called an +explanation in a loose sense. + +Accordingly, that which alone requires an explanation is a coincidence. + +Hence, I say that a uniformity, or law, is _par excellence_, the thing +that requires explanation. And Dr. Carus (¶ 51) admits that this “is +perfectly true.” + +But I cannot imagine anything further from the truth than his statement +(¶ 66) that “the only thing in the world of which we cannot and need not +give account is the existence of facts itself.” I should say, on the +contrary, that the existence of facts is the only thing of which we need +give account. Forms may indulge in whatever eccentricities they please in +the world of dreams, without responsibility; but when they attempt that +kind of thing in the world of real existence, they must expect to have +their conduct inquired into. But should Dr. Carus reply that I mistake +his meaning, that it is only “being in general” (¶ 66) that he holds +unaccountable, I reply that this is simply expressing scepticism as to +the possibility and need of philosophy. In a certain sense, my theory of +reality, namely that reality is the dynamical reaction of certain forms +upon the mind of the community, is a proposed explanation of being in +general; and be it remarked that the mind of the community, itself, is +the thing the nature of whose being this explanation first of all puts +upon an idealistic footing. + +Chance, according to me, or irregularity,—that is, the absence of any +coincidence,—calls for no explanation. If _law_ calls for a particular +explanation, as Dr. Carus admits it does, surely the mere absence of law +calls for no further explanation than is afforded by the mere absence of +any particular circumstance necessitating the result. An explanation is +the conception of a fact as a necessary result, thereby accounting for +the coincidence it presents. It would be highly absurd to say that the +absence of any definite character, must be accounted for, as if it were a +peculiar phenomenon, simply because the imperfection of language leads us +so to talk of it. Quite unfounded, therefore, is Dr. Carus’s opinion that +“chance needs exactly as much explanation as anything else” (¶ 53);—an +opinion which, so far as I can see, rests on no defensible principle. + +Equally hasty is his oft repeated objection (¶ 55, 58, 61) that my +absolute chance is something ultimate and inexplicable. I go back to +a chaos so irregular that in strictness the word existence is not +applicable to its merely germinal state of being; and here I reach a +region in which the objection to ultimate causes loses its force. But +I do not stop there. Even this nothingness, though it antecedes the +infinitely distant absolute beginning of time, is traced back to a +nothingness more rudimentary still, in which there is no variety, but +only an indefinite specificability, which is nothing but a tendency to +the diversification of the nothing, while leaving it as nothing as it +was before. What objectionable ultimacy is here? The objection to an +ultimate consists in its raising a barrier across the path of inquiry, +in its specifying a phenomenon at which questions must stop, contrary +to the postulate, or hope, of logic. But what question to which any +meaning can be attached am I forbidding by my absolute chance? If +what is demanded is a theological backing, or rational antecedent, +to the chaos, that my theory fully supplies. The chaos is a state of +intensest feeling, although, memory and habit being totally absent, +it is sheer nothing still. Feeling has existence only so far as it is +welded into feeling. Now the welding of this feeling to the great whole +of feeling is accomplished only by the reflection of a later date. In +itself, therefore, it is nothing; but in its relation to the end, it is +everything. + +More unreasonable yet is Dr. Carus’s pretension, that the manifold +specificalness, which is what I mean by chance, is capable of explanation +(¶¶ 142, 143) by his own philosophic method. He may explain one +particularity by another, of course; but to explain specificalness +itself, would be to show that a specific predicate is a necessary +consequence of a generic one, or that a whole is without ambiguity a +part of its part. Remark, reader, at this point, that chance, whether +it be absolute or not, is not the mere creature of our ignorance. It +is that diversity and variety of things and events which law does not +prevent. Such is that real chance upon which the kinetical theory of +gases, and the doctrines of political economy, depend. To say that it is +not absolute is to say that it,—this diversity, this specificalness,—can +be explained as a consequence of law. But this, as we have seen, is +logically absurd. + +Dr. Carus admits that absolute chance is “not unimaginable” (¶ 150). +Chance itself pours in at every avenue of sense: it is of all, things +the most obtrusive. That it is absolute, is the most manifest of all +intellectual perceptions. That it is a being, living and conscious, is +what all the dullness that belongs to ratiocination’s self can scarce +muster hardihood to deny. + +Almost as unthinking is the objection (¶ 61) that absolute chance could +never beget order. I have noticed elsewhere the historic oblivescence +of this objection. Must I once again repeat that the tendency to take +habits, being itself a habit, has _eo ipso_ a tendency to grow; so that +only a slightest germ is needed? A realist, such as I am, can find +no difficulty in the production of that first infinitesimal germ of +habit-taking by chance, provided he thinks chance could act at all. This +seems, at first blush, to be explaining something as a chance-result. But +exact analysis will show it is not so. + +In like manner, when the eminent thinker who does me the honor to notice +my speculation, objects that I do not, after all, escape making law +absolute, since the tendency to take habits which I propose to make +universal is itself a law, I confess I can find only words without ideas +in the objection. Law is a word found convenient, I grant, in describing +that tendency; but is there no difference between a law the essence +of which is to be inviolable (which is the nominalistic conception of +mechanical law, whose being, they say, lies in its action) and that +mental law the violation of which is so included in its essence that +unless it were violated it would cease to exist? In my essay, “The Law +of Mind,” I have so described that law. In so describing it, I make it a +law, but not an absolute law; and thus I clearly escape the contradiction +attributed to me. + +§ 26. In my attack on “The Doctrine of Necessity,” I offered four +positive arguments for believing in real chance. They were as follows: + +1. The general prevalence of growth, which seems to be opposed to the +conservation of energy. + +2. The variety of the universe, which is chance, and is manifestly +inexplicable. + +3. Law, which requires to be explained, and like everything which is to +be explained must be explained by something else, that is, by non-law or +real chance. + +4. Feeling, for which room cannot be found if the conservation of energy +is maintained. + +In a brief conversation I had with him, my friend remarked (and it was an +inconsiderate concession, I certainly do not wish to hold him to it) that +while the theory of tychism had some attractive features, its weakness +consisted in the absence of any positive reasons in its favor. I infer +from this that I did not properly state the above four arguments. I +therefore desire once more to call attention to them, especially in their +relations to one another. + +Mathematicians are familiar with the theorem that if a system of +particles is subject only to positional forces, it is such that if at any +instant the velocities were all suddenly reversed, without being altered +in quantity, the whole previous history of the system would be repeated +in inverse succession. Hence, when physicists find themselves confronted +with a phenomenon which takes place only in one order of succession +and never in the reverse order,—of which no better illustration could +be found than the phenomena of growth, for nobody ever heard of an +animal growing back into an egg,—they always take refuge in the laws of +probability as preventive of the velocities ever getting so reversed. +To understand my argument number 1, it is necessary to make this method +of escape from apparent violations of the law of energy quite familiar +to oneself. For example, according to the law of energy, it seems to +follow (and by the aid of the accepted theory of light it does follow) +that if a prism, or a grating, disperses white light into a spectrum, +then the colors of the spectrum falling upon the prism or grating +at the same angles, and in the same proportions, will be recombined +into white light; and, everybody knows that this does in fact happen. +Nevertheless, the usual and prevalent effect of prisms and gratings is to +produce colored spectra. Why? Evidently, because, by the principles of +probability, it will rarely happen that colored lights converging from +different directions will fall at just the right angles and in just the +right proportions to be recombined into white light. So, when physicists +meet with the phenomena of frictional and viscous resistance to a body +in motion, although, according to their doctrine, if the molecules were +to move with the same velocities in opposite directions the moving body +would be accelerated, yet they say that the laws of probability, applied +to the trillions of molecules concerned, render this practically certain +not to occur. I do no more, then, than follow the usual method of the +physicists, in calling in chance to explain the apparent violation of +the law of energy which is presented by the phenomena of growth: only +instead of chance as they understand it, I call in absolute chance. For +many months, I endeavored to satisfy the data of the case with ordinary +_quasi_ chance; but it would not do. I believe that in a broad view of +the universe, a simulation of a given elementary mode of action can +hardly be explained except by supposing the genuine mode of action +somewhere has place. If it is improbable that colored lights should +fall together in just such a way as to give a white ray, is it not an +equally extraordinary thing that they should all be generated in such +a way as to produce a white ray? If it is incredible that trillions of +molecules in a fluid should strike a solid body moving through it so as +to accelerate it, is it not marvellous that trillions of trillions of +molecules all alike should ever have got so segregated as to create a +state of things in which they should be practically certain to retard +the body? It is far from easy to understand how mere positional forces +could ever have brought about those vast congregations of similar atoms +which we suppose to exist in every mass of gas, and by which we account +for the apparent violations of the law of energy in the phenomena of the +viscosity of the gas. There is no difficulty in seeing how sulphuric acid +acting on marble may produce an aggregation of molecules of carbonic +anhydride, because there are similar aggregations in the acid and in +the marble, but how were such aggregations brought about in the first +place? I will not go so far as to say that such a result is manifestly +impossible with positional forces alone; but I do say that we cannot +help suspecting that the simulated violation of the law of energy has a +real violation of the same law as its ultimate explanation. Now, growth +_appears_ to violate the law of energy. To explain it, we must, at least, +suppose a simulated, or _quasi_, chance, such as Darwin calls in to +produce his fortuitous variations from strict heredity. It may be there +is no real violation of the law, and no real chance; but even if there +be nothing of the sort in the immediate phenomenon, can the conditions +upon which the phenomenon depends have been brought about except by real +chance? It is conceivable, again, that the law of the conservation of +forces is not strictly accurate, and that, nevertheless, there is no +absolute chance. But I think so much has been done to put the law of the +conservation of forces upon the level of the other mechanical laws, that +when one is led to entertain a serious doubt of the exactitude of that, +one will be inclined to question the others. + +Besides, few psychologists will deny the very intimate connection which +seems to subsist between the law, or _quasi_-law, of growth and the +law of habit, which is the principal, if not (as I hold it to be) the +sole, law of mental action. Now, this law of habit seems to be quite +radically different in its general form from mechanical law, inasmuch as +it would at once cease to operate if it were rigidly obeyed; since in +that case all habits would at once become so fixed as to give room for no +further formation of habits. In this point of view, then, growth seems to +indicate a positive violation of law. + +Let us now consider argument number 3: and remark how it fortifies number +1. Physical laws that appear to be radically different yet present some +striking analogies. Electrical force appears to be polar. Its polarity is +explained away by Franklin’s one-fluid theory, but in that view the force +is a repulsion. Now, gravitation is an attraction, and is, therefore, +essentially different from electricity. Yet both vary inversely as the +square of this distance. Radiation, likewise follows the same formula. +In this last case, the formula, in one aspect of it, follows from the +conservation of energy. In another aspect of it, it results from the +principle of probability, and does not hold good, in a certain sense, +when the light is concentrated by a lens free from spherical aberration. +But neither the conservation of energy nor the principle of probability +seems to afford any possible explanation of the application of this +theory to gravitation nor to electricity. How, then, are such analogies +to be explained? The law of the conservation of energy and that of the +perduration of matter present so striking an analogy that it has blinded +some powerful intellects to their radically different nature. The law +of action and reaction, again, has often been stated as the law of the +conservation of momentum. Yet it is not only an independent law, but is +even of a contrary nature, inasmuch as it is only the algebraical sum of +opposite momenta that is “conserved.”[123] How is this striking analogy +between three fundamental laws to be explained? Consider the still more +obvious analogy between space and time. Newton argues that the laws of +mechanics prove space and time to be absolute entities. Leibniz, on +the other hand, takes them as laws of nature. Either view calls for an +explanation of the analogy between them, which no such reflection as +the impossibility of motion without that analogy can supply. Kant’s +theory seems to hint at the possibility of an explanation from both +being derived from the nature of the same mind. Any three orthogonal +directions[124] in space are exactly alike, yet are dynamically +independent. + +These things call for explanation; yet no explanation of them can be +given, if the laws are fundamentally original and absolute. + +Moreover, law itself calls for explanation. But how is it to be explained +if it is as fundamentally original and absolute as it is commonly +supposed to be? Yet if it is not so absolute, there is such a phenomenon +as absolute chance. + +Thus, the chance which growth calls for is now seen to be absolute, not +_quasi_ chance. + +Now consider argument number 2. The variety of the universe so far as +it consists of unlikenesses between things calls for no explanation. +But so far as it is a general character, it ought to be explained. The +manifold diversity or specificalness, in general, which we see whenever +and wherever we open our eyes, constitutes its liveliness, or vivacity. +The perception of it is a direct, though darkling, perception of God. +Further explanation in that direction is uncalled for. But the question +is, whether this manifold specificalness was put into the universe at the +outset, whether God created the universe in the infinitely distant past +and has left it to its own machinery ever since, or whether there is an +incessant influx of specificalness. Some of us are evolutionists; that +is, we are so impressed with the pervasiveness of growth, whose course +seems only here and there to be interrupted, that it seems to us that +the universe as a whole, so far as anything can possibly be conceived or +logically opined of the whole, should be conceived as growing. But others +say, though parts of the universe simulate growth at intervals, yet there +really is no growth on the whole,—no passage from a simpler to a more +complex state of things, no increasing diversity. + +Now, my argument is that, according to the principles of logic, we +never have a right to conclude that anything is absolutely inexplicable +or unaccountable. For such a conclusion goes beyond what can be +directly observed, and we have no right to conclude what goes beyond +what we observe, except so far as it explains or accounts for what we +observe. But it is no explanation or account of a fact to pronounce it +inexplicable or unaccountable, or to pronounce any other fact so. Now, +to say no process of diversification takes place in nature leaves the +infinite diversity of nature unaccounted for; while to say the diversity +is the result of a general tendency to diversification is a perfectly +logical probable inference. Suppose there be a general tendency to +diversification; what would be the consequence? Evidently, a high degree +of diversity. But this is just what we find in nature. It does not answer +the purpose to say there is diversity because God made it so, for we +cannot tell what God would do, nor penetrate his counsels. We see what +He _does_ do, and nothing more. For the same reason one cannot logically +infer the existence of God; one can only know Him by direct perception. + +It is to be noted that a general tendency to diversification does not +explain diversity in its specific characters; nor is this called for. +Neither can such a tendency explain any specific fact. Any attempt to +make use of the principle in that manner would be utterly illogical. But +it can be used to explain universal facts, just as quasi-chance is used +to explain statistical facts. Now, the diversity of nature is a universal +fact. + +To explain diversity is to go behind the chaos, to the original +undiversified nothing. Diversificacity was the first germ. + +Argument No. 4 was, upon its negative side, sufficiently well presented +in my “Doctrine of Necessity Examined.” Mechanical causation, if +absolute, leaves nothing for consciousness to do in the world of matter; +and if the world of mind is merely a transcript of that of matter, there +is nothing for consciousness to do even in the mental realm. The account +of matters would be better, if it could be left out of account. But the +positive part of the argument, showing what can be done to reinstate +consciousness as a factor of the universe when once tychism is admitted, +is reinforced in the later papers. This ought to commend itself to Dr. +Carus, who shows himself fully alive to the importance of that part of +the task of science which consists in bridging gaps. But consciousness, +for the reason just stated, is not to be so reinstated without tychism; +nor can the work be accomplished by assigning to the mind an occult +power, as in two theories to be considered in the section following +this. As might be anticipated, (and a presumption of this kind is rarely +falsified in metaphysics,) to bridge the gap synechism is required. +Supposing matter to be but mind under the slavery of inveterate habit, +the law of mind still applies to it. According to that law, consciousness +subsides as habit becomes established, and is excited again at the +breaking up of habit. But the highest quality of mind involves a great +readiness to take habits, and a great readiness to lose them; and this +implies a degree of feeling neither very intense nor very feeble. + +I have noticed above (§ 7) Dr. Carus’s dubious attitude toward the first +argument. I considered in the last section his attempted reply to the +second. To the third argument, he replies (¶ 65) that law ought to be +accounted for by the principle of sufficient reason. But, of course, that +principle cannot recommend itself to me, a realist; for it is nothing +but the lame attempt of a nominalist to wriggle out of his difficulties. +Reasons explain nothing, except upon some theistic hypothesis which may +be pardoned to the yearning heart of man, but which must appear doubtful +in the eyes of philosophy, since it comes to this, that Tom, Dick, and +Harry are competent to pry into the counsels of the Most High, and can +invite in their cousins and sweethearts and sweethearts’ cousins to look +over the original designs of the Ancient of Days. + +§ 27. My fourth argument it is which seems to have made most impression +upon Dr. Carus’s mind (¶ 85), and his reply is rather elaborate. + +While embracing unequivocally the necessitarian dogma, equally for +mind and for matter (¶ 193), Dr. Carus wishes utterly to repudiate +materialism and the mechanical philosophy (¶ 133). To facilitate his, +thus, walking the slack-rope, he makes (¶ 168) a division of events into +“(1) mechanical, (2) physical, (3) chemical, (4) physiological, and (5) +psychical events.” The first three (¶¶ 169-171) are merely distinguished +by the magnitude of the moving masses, so that, for philosophical +purposes, they do not differ at all. As for physiological events, though +he devotes a paragraph (¶ 172) to their definition, he utterly fails +to distinguish them from the mechanical (including the physical and +chemical) on the one hand, or from the psychical on the other. Dr. Carus +seems to think (¶ 176) that by this division he has separated himself +entirely from the materialists; but this is an illusion, for nobody +denies the existence of feelings. + +The truth is, he distinctly enrolls himself in the mechanical army when +he asserts that mental laws are of the same necessitarian character +as mechanical laws (¶ 193). The only question that remains as to his +position is whether he is a materialist or not. He instances (¶ 185) +the case of a general receiving a written dispatch and being stimulated +into great activity by its perusal, and causing great motions to be +made and missiles to be sped in consequence. Now, the dilemma is this. +Will Dr. Carus, on the one hand, say that the motion of those missiles +was determined by mechanical laws alone, in which case, it would only +be necessary to state all the positions and velocities of particles +concerned, a hundred years before, to determine just how those bullets +would move and, consequently, whether the guns were to be fired or not, +and this would constitute him a materialist, or will he say that the laws +of motion do not suffice to determine motions of matter, in which case, +since they formally certainly do so suffice, they must be _violated_, and +he will be giving to mind a direct dynamical power which is open to every +objection that can be urged against tychism? + +Now admire the decision with which he cuts the Gordian knot! + + “THERE ARE NO PURELY MECHANICAL PHENOMENA.” (¶ 175.) + +That is, + + “_The laws of motion ARE applicable to and will explain all + motions_.” (¶ 177.) + +But hold! + + “The mechanical philosopher ... feels warranted in the hope + that ... the actions of man ... can be explained by the laws of + motion .... We may anticipate that this conclusion will prove + ERRONEOUS. _And so it is._” (¶ 176.) + +At the same time, + + “NO OBJECTION CAN BE MADE _to the possibility of explaining the + delicate motions in the nervous substance of the brain by the + laws of molar or molecular mechanics_.” (¶ 178.) + +Yet, + + “_The simplest_ psychical reflexes, including those + _physiological reflexes_ which we must suppose to have + originated by conscious adaptation ... CANNOT _be explained + from mechanical_ or physical _laws_ alone.” (¶ 186.) + +However, + + “_We do NOT say that there are motions_ ... in the brain ... + _which form exceptions to the laws of mechanics_.” (¶ 187.) + +Nevertheless, + + “The brain-atoms are possessed of the same spontaneity as + the atoms of a gravitating stone. Yet there is present an + additional feature; there are present states of awareness.... + Neither states of awareness nor their meanings can be weighed + on any scales, be they ever so delicate, nor are they + determinable in foot-pounds.” (¶ 192.) + +Clearness is the first merit of a philosopher; and what ¶ 192 comes +to is crystal-clear. Dr. Carus wants to have the three laws of motion +always obeyed; but he wishes the forces between the molecules to be +varied according to the momentary states of awareness. All right: he +is entitled to suppose whatever he likes, so long as the supposition +is self-consistent, as this supposition is. It conflicts with the law +of energy, it is true; for that law is that the forces depend on the +situations of the particles alone, and not on the time. It is liable +to give rise to perpetual motion. It was intended, no doubt, to be an +improvement on my molecular theory of protoplasm, earlier in the same +number. It escapes materialism. It supposes a direct dynamical action +between mind and matter, such as has not been supposed by any eminent +philosopher that I know of for centuries. I am sorry to say that it shows +a dangerous leaning toward originality. The argument for thus rejecting +the law of the conservation of energy, I leave to others to be weighed. +It seems to suppose a much larger falsification of that law than my +doctrine; but it is a pretty clever attempt to escape my conclusions. It +rejects what has to be rejected, the law of the conservation of energy; +and is far more intelligent than the theory of those (like Oliver and +Lodge) who wish to give to mind a power of deflecting atoms, which would +satisfy the conservation of energy while violating the law of action +and reaction. If it can have due consideration, I doubt not it will +accelerate the acceptance of my views. Meantime, I do not see where that +“inextricable confusion” into which I was to be led is to come in. (¶ 4.) + +§ 28. Little more requires to be noticed in Dr. Carus’s articles. He +admits (¶ 2) that indeterminism is the more natural belief, which is no +slight argument in its favor. + +§ 29. The remarks upon the theological bearings of the theories, if they +are found somewhat wide of the mark, are explained by the haste of the +editor to show just what all the affiliations of my views were, before +I had had time to explain what those views are. The remarks to which I +refer will be found in ¶¶ 3, 36, 81, 82, 83, 128, 203, 204. They are +worth putting together. + +§ 30. The doctrine of symbolism, to which Dr. Carus has recourse, +seems to be similar to that of my essay “Some Consequences of Four +Incapacities” (_Journal of Speculative Philosophy_, II.) (¶¶ 180, 183, +199.) On this head, I can only approve of his ideas. + +§ 31. It is true that I wrote many definitions for one of the +“encyclopedic lexicons.” But they were necessarily rather vaguely +expressed, in order to include the popular use of terms, and in some +cases were modified by proof-readers or editors; and for reasons not +needful here to explain, they are hardly such as I should give in a +Philosophical Dictionary proper. + + C. S. PEIRCE. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[101] J. S. Mill had in the first edition of his _Logic_ decisively taken +an objective conception of chance and probability; but in his second +edition he had become puzzled and had retracted, leaving that chapter, +and with it his whole logic, a melancholy wreck, over which the qualified +reader sighs, “And this once seemed intelligible!” Venn in the first +edition of his book set forth the same objective conception with great +clearness, and for that he was entitled to high praise, notwithstanding +his manifest inadequacy to the problems treated. But in his second +edition, he too has fallen away from his first and correct view, and has +adopted a theory which I shall some day show to be untenable. Venn’s +whole method in logic, as well as his system, is in my opinion of the +weakest. + +[102] Mill often did good service in substituting precise terms for +ambiguous ones; as when in speaking of mathematical conclusions he +prefers to say they are legitimate deductions rather than that they are +necessary. + +[103] In his _Ursache, Grund and Zweck_, Dr. Carus alludes to this +passage. But he prefers the treatment of the question by Reid, whom he +calls Mill’s opponent (_Gegner_). + +[104] It is of comparatively little consequence what Hume really meant. +The main interest is in what Kant thought he meant. + +[105] Along with the distinction, I would of course do away with this +use of the words _abstract_ and _concrete_ to which no clear idea can be +attached, as far as I can see. + +[106] I cannot but disapprove of this use of the word “construction” to +mean a studied theory, because the word is imperatively required in the +theory of cognition to denote a mathematical diagram framed according to +a general precept. + +[107] I apply this term because it is essentially like the passage from +the concrete “virtuous” to the abstract “virtue,” or from the concrete +“white” (adjective) to the abstract “whiteness,” or “white” (substantive). + +[108] I can never use this word without thinking of the explanation of +it given by Petrus Peregrinus in his _Epistole de Magnete_. He says that +physical properties are occult in the sense that they are only brought +out by experimentation, and are not to be deduced from admixtures of +_hot_ and _cold_, _moist_ and _dry_. + +[109] It follows as a corollary from this that if the positions of the +particles at any one instant, together with the velocities at that +instant, and the law of force, are given, the positions at all instants +can be calculated. Of course, to give the positions and velocities at +one instant, is a special case of the giving of the positions at two +instants. The two instants may be such that there will be more than one +solution of the problem; but this is an insignificant detail. + +[110] It would seem to follow from his notion that in uniform motion each +minute’s motion is the cause of that of the next. Yet he says (¶ 19) +“there is no cause that is equal to its effect.” + +[111] But, as I have elsewhere said, I should like to persuade +mathematicians to speak of “positional energy” as _Kinetic potency_, the +_vis viva_ as _Kinetic energy_, and the total “energy” as the _Kinetic +entelechy_. + +[112] The differential equation being an ordinary, not a partial one, +this is an absolute constant, determined by initial (or final, or any +instantaneous) conditions. + +[113] Dr. Carus calls attention to the connection between my doctrine of +the fixation of opinion and his anti-originalism. + +[114] Dr. Carus passes a sweeping judgment on Post-Kantian philosophy, as +being original. + +[115] This was a remark of my father’s. + +[116] A person in the last _Monist_, breaks in upon my series of articles +to foretell what the “issues of synechism” will be. Were he able to do +so, it would certainly be the height of ill-manners thus to take the +words out of my mouth. + +[117] As I am writing, I am shown a letter, in which the writer says: +“Peirce with all his materialistic ideas, yet,” etc I never promulgated +a materialistic idea in my life. The writer simply assumes that science +is materialistic. As I am correcting the proofs, I notice that Mr. B. +C. Burt, in his new _History of Modern Philosophy_, sets me down as +sceptical, though doubtfully. There are a good many inaccuracies in the +work. This was inevitable in a first edition. But the ingenious plan of +the book admirably adapts it to the wants of just that class of students +who cannot understand that no repertory of facts ever can be trusted +implicitly. + +[118] Its being hypothetical will not prevent its being established with +a very high degree of certainty. Thus, all history is of the nature of +hypothesis; since its facts cannot be directly observed, but are only +supposed to be true to account for the characters of the monuments and +other documents. + +[119] Somebody may notice that I here admit a proposition as absolutely +true. Undoubtedly; because it relates to the Absolute. + +[120] Indeed, to admit that reply is all but to admit the non-absolute +grade of necessity. + +[121] I rightly go somewhat further in my _Theory of Probable Inference_; +but that has no bearing on the present discussion. + +[122] Dr. Carus, in his _Ursache, Grund und Zweck_, well says that +_reasons_ are discovered by induction, in the strict sense. It is often +admitted that _causes_ can only be inferred by hypothetic reasoning. + +[123] The conservation of a vortex, which consists of the preservation of +a certain character of motion by the same particles, though derived from +the coöperation of other laws, is, in form, quite different. + +[124] In speaking of directions, we assume the Euclidean hypothesis that +the angles of a triangle are equal to two right angles. + + + + +THE FOUNDER OF TYCHISM, HIS METHODS, PHILOSOPHY, AND CRITICISMS. + +IN REPLY TO MR. CHARLES S. PEIRCE. + + +INTRODUCTORY AND PERSONAL. + +Soon after I had received Mr. Peirce’s manuscript he wrote me in a +private letter as follows: + + “You have not found, I trust, that in my rejoinder I have + anywhere overstepped the limit of amiable disputation. If + anything of that kind did, unconsciously to me, in the heat + of composition, slip from my pen, I am most anxious to have + it pointed out to me, so that there may be no feeling in the + matter of a disagreeable kind. For if you should not mention + it, I should at some future time discover it, and it would be a + source of real unhappiness to me.” + +This is a very amiable disposition of mind. Mr. Peirce presses me very +hard in the struggle for truth: he does not hesitate to take advantage of +even the smallest weak point which he espies or rather which he believes +he espies. He does not shrink from using plain terms, such as “absurd,” +“unthinking,” “weak,” “hasty,” “irrational.” Yet he preserves in the +heat of the controversy a friendly spirit towards his antagonist, which +I cannot but appreciate and wish publicly to acknowledge. But I would +not have him change a word or soften the language of his article in the +least, _for my sake_. If Mr. Peirce is wrong, I will take care of myself; +if he is right, let the truth come out. + +We are both, as it were, by profession champions of truth; so we need not +mind an occasional fling if in the end the cause of truth be promoted. +Especially, in the present case, I need not mind the hard blows which +Mr. Peirce deals with such assurance, for all the points at which he +strikes are well protected. The fiercer the onslaught, the better the +test. I feel satisfied that his severe scrutiny only serves to prove the +strength of the position which I defend. + +I shall speak my mind as freely and unreservedly as does Mr. Peirce, and +hope he in his turn will resent plain words as little as I do. As offense +is not intended, so offense should not be taken. + +Let me add here in these introductory remarks that I am always open +to conviction. The views which I uphold have been well considered and +thought out in their most important consequences. They are consistent +and well guarded in spite of Mr. Peirce’s thinking the contrary, so that +I feel no need of changing them. But should some unforeseen difficulty +arise which would oblige me to revise the whole system of my ideas, I +shall not hesitate publicly to confess it and allow myself to be lead by +truth whithersoever it be. + + * * * * * + +The issue of our controversy is the problem of chance—not of chance as it +occurs, for instance, in the throw of dice, but of “absolute chance,” or +perfect lawlessness. Mr. Peirce makes absolute chance the corner-stone of +his philosophy; he propounds a radical and sweeping indeterminism, while +I reject the idea, not of chance, but of absolute chance as incompatible +with the philosophy of science. + + +I. DIFFERENCES OF METHOD. + +Mr. Peirce calls himself a Scotist and professes to represent mediæval +Realism, speaking at the same time of me as a Nominalist. We find, +however, that the inverse statement would be nearer the truth. + +Before discussing Mr. Peirce’s philosophy itself, we must examine his +methods. Difference of method will produce important divergencies of +opinion. + + +1. ATTENTION TO DETAIL. + +Mr. Peirce takes up in his rejoinder many incidental points, which have +little or no bearing upon the main issues between us. On the one hand, +things of no consequence, such as my granting that “absolute chance” +like the impossibilities of fairy tales, is not unimaginable, and my +saying that tychism is attractive but weak for lack of arguments, are +adduced as “momentous admissions,” and “inconsiderate concessions.” +On the other hand, Mr. Peirce catches at straws to prove a lack of +information on my part. He cannot forbear calling attention to the little +breach of etiquette committed in not giving an English baronet his proper +title. + +Mr. Peirce shows on all these and other occasions a love of the +incidental, and if I were to allow myself to follow his example the +battle would soon be broken up into innumerable skirmishes. + +It is noteworthy that Mr. Peirce’s procedure appears to be a nominalistic +tradition. Nominalists, regarding universals as mere names of many +particular things, have always showed a great preference for the single, +the incidental, the scattered; while realists viewing universals as +real things were in the habit of laying perhaps too much stress upon +universalities and generalities to the neglect of the particular and +individual. + +Indeed, Mr. Peirce’s favorite idea, which is a belief in absolute chance, +is in my opinion the most nominalistic and anti-realistic proposition I +have ever met with. Regularity, or natural law, is to him the product +of evolution. Thus he demolishes the eternity of the universal, and +eternity is only universality in time. Now suppose that eternity (i. e. +universality in time) could be proved an error; then, the universality +of the universal in space also will become illusory. If those abiding +features of nature which we call natural laws have indeed originated from +a general sporting, from chance, from a chaotic lawlessness, by a gradual +habit taking, who can assure us that nature has not taken different +habits in other parts of the universe? + +I look upon Mr. Peirce as an extreme nominalist, or, if he prefers it, as +a nominal realist soaked with nominalistic opinions. He professes to be a +realist, but he rescinds the foundation of realism. + +Like the bear of the hermit Mr. Peirce throws the stone at the fly of +necessary connection, and in doing so kills the philosophy of realism +itself. + + +2. ORIGINALITY. + +Originality, wherever we find it, is pleasing; but a hankering after +originality is dangerous. Experience teaches us to regard a thinker’s +love of originality as one of the main causes of his going astray. Let +the poet be original, but not the scientist, not the philosopher, not the +searcher for truth. The conceit of being original flatters our vanity, +and original ideas in philosophy are tantamount to original errors. + +I do not deny the value of originality, but I do deny that it is a +criterion of truth. + +Originality consists in the free exercise of our imagination, and a vivid +imagination is very valuable to the thinker. But it so happens that every +dreamer cherishes with a mother’s love the children of his fancy. And it +is, therefore, necessary to be especially critical with the offspring of +one’s own brain. + +Kepler (“who,” Mr. Peirce says, “comes very close to realising my ideal +of the scientific method”) was endowed with an extraordinarily vivid +imagination. He invented an extremely original scheme of explanation for +the solar system, and expounded it with great poetical fervor in his +“Mysterium Cosmographicum.”[125] + +Kepler at once became famous by his “Mysterium Cosmographicum” and was +generally admired for his originality. But his bent for hatching original +ideas did not alone make Kepler what he is to us now in the history +of science. A greater quality than his poetical fervor and original +imagination was his rigorous self-criticism. He took notice of every +little fact that did not agree with his theories, and for the sake of +truth, of objectively provable truth, that is, the agreement of his views +with positive facts, he sternly slew all those creatures of his fancy +which he foresaw could not survive. + +Having myself a good deal of imagination, and having tried myself +many original ideas, I can appreciate the self-denial and discipline +of Kepler. I have come to the conclusion that originality is only an +important means of attaining truth. Our ways of reaching the truth, +our methods of finding it, may deserve the praise of originality, but +truth itself is never original; for truth is the faithfulness of a copy +which in our representations we make of reality, and to praise ideas as +original is certainly no argument that they are true. + +There is no need of showing that Mr. Peirce is not just in his statement +of my view of originality, by maintaining that I have advised people +“think not for yourself.” Confessedly he exaggerates, but in truth he +misrepresents. + +Mr. Peirce does not relish what I have to say on the subject, and, +to pacify his mind, he does not tire of praising originality as the +high-water mark of genius. + +Mr. Peirce’s love of originality is a nominalistic feature of his mind. A +nominalist who denies the existence of universals cannot understand that +everything in science must be sacrificed to truthfulness. The question, +Does this idea correctly represent its respective reality? has no sense +to a nominalist. The nominalist is only interested in what a thinker +makes of things. The subjective conception, in his opinion, exhausts the +subject. I can understand that a nominalist should be greatly pleased +with originality, but a realist should not allow himself to be seduced by +its charms. + +Mr. Peirce’s penchant for, and my distrust of, originality, have a direct +influence upon our respective methods of thought. It naturally makes him +bolder and me more cautious.[126] + + +3. A MODERN PROCRUSTES. + +There was a man in ancient Greece named Procrustes, who had two beds; +one long, the other short. He used to lay his tall guests upon the short +bed, and his short guests upon the long bed, cutting off the limbs of the +former and stretching out the bodies of the latter, until they fitted +the size of their unpleasant resting places. In the same way Mr. Peirce +treats philosophical views. + +There is the bed of the materialist and, as all processes to the +materialist are purely mechanical, necessitarianism is stretched in the +materialist’s bed to mechanicalism. I plead, since ideas and feelings +are not motions, that mental processes cannot be explained by the laws +of motion, but can, for that reason, be none the less determined; but I +plead in vain. That view of necessitarianism does not suit the bed upon +which my Procrustes places me. Other views, however, are cut down without +further ado because they are said to be nominalistic. Anything that does +not appeal to Mr. Peirce’s realistic mind is dismissed with a shrug. + +I am neither a realist nor a nominalist, or rather, I am both realist +and nominalist. I am convinced that to some extent both sides were right +and both sides were wrong, and regard it as our duty to sift their +propositions and accept the truth whether it be nominalistic or realistic. + +We must follow the principle of hearing both sides, and not consider +at all whether a statement agrees or disagrees with certain party +principles.[127] + + +4. OCCAM’S RAZOR. + +The most brilliant disciple of Duns Scotus was William of Occam, whose +fame almost rivalled that of his master. Occam became an adversary of +realism; he became a nominalist, and after him was named a method known +as Occam’s razor, especially useful to nominalists in their warfare +against realists. + +Occam’s razor is expressed in the sentence: “_Entia non sunt +multiplicanda præter necessitatem_,” which means: Only in cases +of extremest necessity are we allowed to assume the existence of +hypothetical facts. If assumed facts are not absolutely indispensable, +cut them off! + +Occam’s razor was invented for a special purpose, that of cutting off the +realistic hypostatisation of abstract ideas. + +I do not know which is more startling, that a realist in name, such as +Mr. Peirce, should use a weapon forged by nominalists against realism, +or that he whom in other respects we found in such a close contact with +nominalistic methods, should not understand how to handle a nominalistic +weapon. + +Mr. Peirce censures me for making the statement that the formal is +subjective as well as objective. This, he says, is cut off by Occam’s +razor. + +The formal is subjective, for our sensation is possessed of form and our +mind is in possession of formal thought. It is objective, for reality is +not void of form and the things are such as they are by virtue of their +peculiar shape. + +The proposition that the formal is objective and subjective at the +same time is as little cut off by Occam’s razor as, for instance, the +proposition that there is air inside and outside of us, viz. in our lungs +and in the surrounding atmosphere. + +Mr. Peirce’s usage of the beds of Procrustes is cruel, but his usage of +Occam’s razor is inconsiderate. He should be careful in handling such a +sharp knife, lest he do himself harm. + +Mr. Peirce uses Occam’s razor to cut off statements and facts which make +his pet theories dispensable; but he forgets that Occam’s razor cuts off +ideas only, and when it comes in contact with facts its edge is turned. + +Occam’s razor is an excellent instrument to dispose of such hypotheses as +absolute chance, for it declares that if their assumption is not quite +indispensable, we must cut them off. + +Now it either is or is not a fact that the formal is objective and +subjective at once. It cannot be untrue in my philosophy while it is +true in Mr. Peirce’s system. My proposition of the formal being at once +objective and subjective is, according to Mr. Peirce, “cut off by Occam’s +razor.” “But,” adds he, “when synechism has united the two worlds this +view gains new life.” So long as I say so, it is wrong; but should I +adopt Mr. Peirce’s system, it will pass as right. + + +5. THE APPLICATION OF LEARNING. + +Philosophers should make it a rule not to encumber their thoughts +unnecessarily with learning. The great problems of philosophy are, in my +opinion, much simpler than they are generally supposed to be. The art +mainly consists in stating them in the simplest possible manner. + +It is indispensable for a philosopher to be familiar, at least in a +general way, with all the most important sciences, especially with +psychology, physiology, logic, physics, mathematics, and mechanics. But +he should not for that reason introduce any more than he can help their +complicated details into his expositions. + +Every specialist is inclined to look at things through the spectacles of +his own speciality. But the philosopher who takes a higher standpoint +should be on his guard. He should always endeavor to simplify matters and +avoid introducing into philosophy issues which belong to a special field, +and derive their peculiarities from special conditions. To confound the +methods of the various sciences, or to generalise without sufficient +discrimination, will throw everything into confusion. + +Mr. Peirce, as we well know, has greatly distinguished himself in +logic by valuable discoveries and independent investigations. We have +repeatedly taken occasion to pronounce unreservedly our admiration of his +achievements in this field. But we cannot approve of his application of +certain methods of his speciality to philosophy in general. Mr. Peirce +is inclined to look at the world through the spectacles of that new and +extremely specialised branch of logic which he is at present about to +invent. + +One hindrance to properly appreciating his doctrines, says Mr. Peirce, +lies in my “laboring under the great disadvantage of not understanding +the logic of relatives,” which, he adds (p. 533): + + “Is a subject I have been studying for a great many years, and + I feel and know that I have an important report that I ought + to make upon it. This branch of logic is, however, so abstruse + that I have never been able to find the leisure to translate my + conclusions into a form in which their significance would be + manifest even to powerful thinkers, whose thoughts had not long + been turned in that direction.” + +I shall be glad to sit at Mr. Peirce’s feet as an attentive student, as +soon as he has worked out his logic of relatives, or any other subject. +But I cannot now accept any of his theories on the credit of some +half-developed science, be it ever so profound or intricate, until I see +plainly its connection with the present issues. + +Mr. Peirce trusts that his favorite ideas will find support in his +peculiar conception of the logic of relatives. Judging from the +quiddities which he now so confidently propounds as weighty arguments, +we cannot share his sanguine hopes. His arguments, to be derived from +the logic of relatives, are like promises to pay out of the returns of a +gold-mine, just discovered and boomed by the owners. There may be gold in +the mine, but I do not as yet take any stock in it. + +Mr. Peirce promises to prove by the logic of relatives what, if it were +true, he should be able to demonstrate in plain language. + +I have an idea that the logic of relatives can be worked out into as +clear a science as is mathematics or algebra. But what shall we say when +told that the logic of relatives is really abstruse, and that he who +labors under the disadvantage of not understanding this abstruse science +is not prepared to grasp Mr. Peirce’s philosophy? The abstrusity, in my +mind, counts against Mr. Peirce’s philosophy, as much as against his +logic of relatives. + +In my childhood I was much plagued with Latin, but as soon as I had +acquired a smattering of it, I began to talk Latin to the servants, and +when they did not understand me I thought that they were “laboring under +the great disadvantage” of not speaking Latin. Since then I have learned +to translate my Latin into the language of the people with whom I have to +deal. + +Mr. Peirce seems to rely on his learning in proportion to its abstrusity; +he likes to walk on stilts. + +Mr. Peirce is scholarly to excess. He has a special talent of rendering +issues involved. Not even his references to my articles in _The Monist_ +are made directly by quoting the pages on which they appear. That method +would be too common. He invents a ponderous system, necessitating the +reader to look twice when he wishes to find a passage,—a scheme which +is original and very dignified in appearance, but makes quotation +unnecessarily complicated. + +Learning is a virtue, but even virtues should be used with discretion. + + +6. THE PRINCIPLE OF POSITIVISM. + +Says Mr. Peirce in confirmation of Whewell (p. 546): + + “Progress in science depends upon the observation of the right + facts by minds _furnished with appropriate ideas_.” + +To rely on the observation of facts is, in my opinion, a principle +of positivism. That facts must be observed “by minds furnished with +appropriate ideas” is undeniable, but ideas, in order to be appropriate, +must be true; they must be representations of facts. + +Because he relies on facts I have characterised Mr. Peirce’s method as +positivistic. But he indignantly repudiates “the charge” as “totally +unfounded.” + +Positivism (which I have always carefully distinguished from Comtism, +the latter being a special kind of positivism[128]) is not a peculiar +philosophy, but a most important principle of science. + +Mr. Peirce seems to use the term positivism in a different sense from +that in which I use it. Be it so. I shall not nominalistically quarrel +about words so long as there are more urgent subjects under discussion. +Noticing that Mr. Peirce does not state that all ideas should be +ultimately reducible to facts, he is to be acquitted. + + +7. LOPPING OFF THE ABSOLUTE. + +Mr. Peirce thinks that an agreement between us could be arrived at. He +says (p. 545): + + “Dr. Carus’s philosophy would, in its general features, offer + no violent opposition to my opinions” (§ 16). + +But the condition is (p. 545): + + “To lop off the heads of all absolute propositions whose + subject is not the Absolute.” + +As a matter of fact I have lopped off all absolutes. If Mr. Peirce +were more familiar with my views he would have known that. Thus, on +my part, I had done all I could to come to an agreement with him long +before he asked me to do it. But I fear that having also lopped off the +Absolute itself, I did too much of a good thing, for Mr. Peirce carefully +records his opposition to all philosophies which deny the reality of the +Absolute. (See § 18.) + +I wish to improve this occasion for conciliation, by turning the tables. +Mr. Peirce’s views would, upon the whole, offer no violent opposition to +my opinions if he would only consent to lop off the absolute-property +of his absolute chance. I would even swallow his Absolute if he would +promise to designate by that name some real quality of the world, or the +world itself as a whole, or something that is thinkable without making +one’s head swim.[129] + +Every predication of absolute, changes a real and useful idea into its +caricature. To, say that a complicated calculation is “absolutely true,” +that is, true without stipulating the condition that the methods are +right, and that the execution is made without any mistake, is ridiculous; +and thus the phrase “in a Pickwickian sense” (which we gratefully borrow +from Mr. Peirce) would always form a drastic but adequate substitute +for the term absolute. “Absolutely true” is “true in a Pickwickian +sense” only. There are no absolute truths which are in this sense +unconditionally true. In the same way, “absolute chance” is different +from that real chance known to us in experience and instanced by the +throw of the dice. Absolute chance is “chance in a Pickwickian sense.” + +Strange Mr. Peirce speaks of real chance when he means an imaginary +absolute chance. He apparently uses the word “real” in this connection +not to denote something that is a fact of experience but to express the +idea of its being perfect or complete. Thus we may speak of a “real” +perpetual motion, stating at the same time that it is neither real nor +realisable. + + +8. THE THEORY OF PROBABLE INFERENCE. + +Mr. Peirce applies his theory of probable inference to everything; also +to those cases which are unequivocally determined. He granted in a +private conversation that 2 × 2 = 4 admits of no exception. But of other +purely formal statements which are in the same predicament, for instance, +that the sum of the angles of a triangle in a plane measures 180°, he +states as probable that they are either somewhat less or somewhat more +than 180°, adding, “that they are exactly that amount is what nobody +can ever be justified in concluding.” To determine the sum of the +angles of a plane triangle by measuring the parallaxes of stars rests +upon a fundamental misconception of the principles of formal sciences. +It would be consistent for Mr. Peirce to say, that 2 × 2 = 4 is true +only according to the definitions or axioms of arithmetic. But in order +to know whether 2 × 2 = 4 in reality, we ought to apply the theory of +probable inference. Until we had verified the statement 2 × 2 = 4 by +applying this formula to the farthest solar systems, we should not be +justified in concluding that it is exactly true. The theory of probable +inferences is supposed to help us out of this perplexity, “and within +another century our grandchildren will surely know whether the three +angles of a triangle are greater or less than 180°.”[130] + +There is always danger in the application of abstract ratiocination; and +the theory of probable inference forms no exception to the rule. On the +contrary, it is especially liable to lead one astray. There is the case +of the doctor who said to his patient: “I am sure you will be cured, for +I had ninety-nine patients who died during the operation, and statistics +prove beyond doubt that one among a hundred will survive it. You are the +hundredth.” + +The theory of probable inferences is often misapplied, but can it be +worse misapplied than by introducing it into the province of that which +is certain? There is no sense in applying the theory of probabilities to +what is certain. We may doubt whether the rays of light travel in exactly +straight lines, but we cannot doubt the straightness of lines in plane +geometry. We cannot doubt that all the radii in a circle are equal, or +that the sum of the angles of a Euclidean triangle are 180°. + + +9. ZWEIDEUTIG BESTIMMT. + +Mr. Peirce very kindly informs me that the term _eindeutig bestimmt_ is a +translation of a French phrase. Very well, I do not deny it. I know very +well that the phrase has a long history, but I do not consider myself +bound to present the whole pedigree of every term I use. + +Does Mr. Peirce perhaps suppose that the French phrase is the original? +If we have to go back to the original beginning at all, why does he not +tell us that the French _univoque_ is a translation from the mediæval +Latin _univoce_, which was coined and used by the schoolmen in opposition +to _æquivoce_. Neither the term _eindeutig_, as Mr. Peirce asserts, +nor its scholastic original _univoce_, is an exclusively mathematical +expression. + +Although the term _eindeutig_ is a translation of the French _univoque_, +there is after all a great difference between the French term and the +German term, and I have a good reason to prefer the German expression. +The French term is nominalistic or even vocalistic, the German one +is realistic. _Univoque_ and _univocal_ mean that there is only one +name or one _vox_, while _eindeutig_ lays no stress on the name but +on the meaning of the name, denoting that which admits of but one +interpretation. This is a sufficient reason for me to prefer it, and it +ought to appeal to Mr. Peirce’s realistic mind.[131] + +Mr. Peirce, maintaining that _eindeutig bestimmt_ is only a mathematical +term, adduces two equations, each one of which, taken singly, admits, +he says, of two possible determinations.[132] Mr. Peirce uses these +equations as an argument against my application of the term, adding, +sarcastically: “This shows how much that argument amounts to.” But his +example proves at best only that there are incomplete determinations; +some problems allow of several solutions. In a German township in which +blue hussars are garrisoned, children used to propose to another this +profound problem: “It lies under a plum-tree and is blue; what is it?” +If the child questioned argues, “It is a plum,” he is corrected “No, it +is a hussar.” But if he argues, “It is a hussar,” he is corrected, “No, +it is a plum.” So he has no chance of guessing right. The result of Mr. +Peirce’s first equation, which may be either 11·477 or 11·523, is like +the conundrum of the plum-tree: it amounts to the same, viz. to nothing, +and proves only that there are determinations which are _zweideutig +bestimmt_. + + +10. EXPLANATION. + +The differences of method become very serious when we disagree on the +very meaning of “explanation” itself. How can two debaters accept or +reject one another’s arguments, if their ideas of explanation are +radically different? + +Mr. Peirce’s definition of the term “explanation” appears to me very +unsatisfactory. He says (p. 57): + + “I cannot admit that explanation is description of the fact + explained. It is true that in the setting forth of some + explanations it is convenient to restate the fact explained so + as to set it under another aspect, but even in these cases the + statement of other facts is essential. (!) In all cases it is + _other facts_, (!) usually hypothetical, which constitute the + explanation; (!) and the process of explaining is a process by + which from those other facts the fact to be explained is shown + to follow as a consequence by virtue of a general principle or + otherwise.” + + “To explain a fact is to show that it is a necessary or + at least a probable result from another fact (!) known or + supposed.” + +My definition of “explanation,” as a description in which the process +described is recognised as a transformation is sneered at. Says Mr. +Peirce (p. 558): + + “A magician transforms a watch into a dove. Recognise it as + a transformation and the trick is explained, is it? This is + delightfully facile.” + +Indeed, the magician’s trick is explained as soon as we know all the +changes that have taken place. Take the whole number of objects handled +by the magician, those which he shows and those which he conceals. Let +us observe how he hides the watch and how he produces the dove, and the +trick is explained. Is it not? + +Explanation is, as the word suggests, a making plain, so that we can look +over the whole field before us, and leave nothing hidden from sight. This +whole field, the survey of which is needed for the recognition of the +transformation, is called the system of the explanation. After we have +seen how the changes take place, and after we have described in exact +formulas their modes of action, our desire for explanation is completely +satisfied. + +The instances adduced by Mr. Peirce prove plainly that his objections +cannot be maintained. Every one of them is an instance of transformation +(with the exception of the emerald vest, which, however, is not stated +with sufficient completeness). Take, for instance, the following example +adduced by Mr. Peirce (p. 557): + + “A ‘special process of nature,’ calling for explanation, is the + circumstance that the planet Mars, while moving in a general + way from west to east among the fixed stars, yet retrogrades a + part of the time, so as to describe loops in the heavens. The + explanation is, that Mars revolves in one approximate circle + and we in another.” + +Can any one deny that this explanation is a description? We draw the +two orbits as correctly as possible for the required demonstration +and combine the points representing the earth with those representing +Mars at their successive positions. Considering the fact that we do +not perceive the motion of the earth, we have to construct a diagram +in which the directions of these lines are described as viewed from a +stationary point. This is a description of changes that take place. It is +a portrayal of the transpositions of two bodies, and the appearance which +the change of this relation presents to one of them. + +Mr. Peirce has neither the grace nor good-will to, understand my +proposition, that _explanation is always a tracing of form_. He says (p. +558): + + “Forms may indulge in whatever eccentricities they please, in + the world of dreams, without responsibility.” + +In the world of dreams, yes! But not in the world of reality. And even +the irresponsible eccentricities of dreams take place according to law. + +Feeling that he mistakes my position, Mr. Peirce adds: + + “Should Dr. Carus reply that I mistake his meaning, that it is + only ‘being in general’ (§ 66), that he holds unaccountable, + I reply that this is simply expressing scepticism as to the + possibility and need of philosophy.” (P. 558.) + +Of course, I mean “being in general.” As to the scepticism imputed to me, +I answer, that any attempt at explaining how matter and energy, which I +take to be eternal, came into being, is a wrongly formulated problem. +Mr. Peirce might as well call me a sceptic, because I recognise that we +cannot square the circle. (Compare “Fundamental Problems,” 2d ed., pp. +283-285 and 291.) + +Mr. Peirce’s gravest mistake is his belief that + + “In all cases it is _other facts_ which constitute the + explanation.” (P. 557.) + +The practical application of this mistake becomes fatal to his philosophy. + +It is by no means necessary to pass beyond that system of facts which +contains the phenomenon to be explained. We must, as a matter of course, +keep completing the facts of a phenomenon until we have acquired a survey +of what we call the whole system of the facts, but we have never to +resort to other facts. + +We are confronted every day with hundreds of facts of which we never +see the whole system to which they belong, but we readily supply these +deficiencies from the stock of our experience. We refer the unknown to +the known. The single case under observation is referred to something +with which we are familiar. Those systems of explanation which are known +to us serve as patterns for others that are only partially known, and we +fill out, with their assistance, the gaps of our observation. + +The readiness and reliability of our explanation thus depends upon the +stock of knowledge we have. The more we know, the easier shall we conquer +the unknown; the more incomplete our knowledge is, the greater the number +of hypothetical facts that will have to be introduced; and this always +weakens the reliability of our explanations. Hypothetical facts should +be introduced only in cases of urgent necessity. However, if they are +admitted at all, they have to be thought of as parts of the system under +investigation, for they have been invented only because we are compelled +to assume that without them it would be incomplete. + +Mr. Peirce adduces the following example to prove that “other facts” are +required in an explanation: + + “It has been stated that a warm spring in Europe is usually + followed by a cool autumn, and the explanation has been offered + that so many more icebergs than usual are liberated during + a warm spring, that they subsequently lower sensibly the + temperature of Europe. I care little whether the fact and the + explanation are correct or no. The case illustrates, at any + rate, my point that an explanation is a special fact, supposed + or known, from which the fact to be explained follows as a + consequence.” (P. 557.) + +When, as in this instance, we recognise that one fact is the necessary +result of another fact, we view them both as parts of one set or system +of facts in which a transformation is taking place, and, unless we +see the connection of the two facts as constituting one process of +transformation, we cannot say that the problem is explained. When we +observe changes which are the results of transformations taking place +beyond the horizon of our knowledge, we are, as a matter of course, +unable to give an explanation. + +Mr. Peirce had perhaps in mind a special and more complex kind of +explanation, which we define as “comprehension.” He says (p. 557): + + “The fact to be explained is shown to follow as a consequence, + by virtue of a general principle or otherwise.” + +Take as an instance the law of gravitation. There are the facts of +falling stones and the motions of celestial bodies. Both sets of +facts are explained, according to Mr. Peirce, “by virtue of a general +principle,” i. e. gravitation, while we say, both sets of facts are +comprehended under a common formula. Mr. Peirce’s conception of +“explanation” rests on the antiquated view that gravitation is a +principle behind the gravitating masses which compels the stone to fall. +Gravitation, however, is not “another fact” foreign to the facts under +consideration. It is not a principle called in from the outside. On the +contrary, it is the essence and extract of the very facts that are to be +explained. + +Principles which have not been derived either from the facts to be +explained, or from the additional facts which belong to their system, do +not and cannot explain the phenomena. + + * * * * * + +Comprehension is, as it were, an explanation of a higher degree. The +term means a grasping together, and it actually consists in viewing two +or several facts in such a way as to recognise their common features. +Comprehension is a reduction of our patterns of explanation; it unites +two or several of them in one formula. + +For instance, it has been observed that certain objects float in water +while others sink to the bottom. The observations do not seem to agree, +they present two incoherent facts. When we find out that the weight of +a floating body is equal to the weight of water which it displaces, +we understand at once why bodies whose specific gravity is greater +than water sink while those of a lighter specific gravity float. +Comprehension, in this as in every other case, is the description of a +process which comprises all the facts that belong to a special class in +a common formula. The description must be applicable to all single cases +however different they may be. + +This conception of comprehension has a great advantage over Mr. Peirce’s +view. While he has to bring in some “other fact” from the outside, we +need not introduce any foreign element. Comprehension, as we understand +it, can rise from the statement of particular facts to more and more +general formulations, until finally we arrive at universal laws. All +the laws thus formulated to satisfy our cravings for comprehension, are +found to belong to one great system of laws, and our scientists are +constantly engaged not only in widening the range of our experience by +new discoveries, but also in revising our statements of the uniformities +of nature and, where they appear to be in collision, in bringing them +into harmony. + +This conception of comprehension is monistic, Mr. Peirce’s is dualistic. +We need not, in order to explain the facts of existence, go beyond them +into a supernatural realm. Mr. Peirce must go outside of the world +into non-existence when he attempts to understand the world by the +principles of his philosophy. It is very doubtful whether explanations, +the “essential” nature of which is to consist of “other facts usually +hypothetical,” will be satisfactory to anybody except himself. + +Otherness makes any fact unfit to serve as a factor of an explanation and +indeed I cannot think of any instance, real or imaginary, in which the +explanatory facts, be they real or hypothetical, do not form parts of the +system under consideration. + +There is only one instance to which Mr. Peirce’s method of explanation +has been applied, and I am under the impression that it has been invented +solely for this purpose. Mr. Peirce’s philosophy is too original to +be explained by the usual methods; it must have an original method of +its own. In order to explain “law” Mr. Peirce calls in “chance.” His +explanation must be an “other fact” and the only fact different from +law is not-law, lawlessness, or absolute chance. According to my idea +of explanation, law can never be explained by chance. According to Mr. +Peirce, it is the only possible thing that can be called in as that +“_other_ fact” which is supposed to be the essential constituent of an +explanation. + +If Mr. Peirce’s method of explanation were sound, we should have to +explain order from chaos, possibility from impossibility, and sense from +nonsense. + + +II. MR. PEIRCE’S PHILOSOPHY. + +Mr. Peirce’s constant references to scholastic philosophy remind me of +happy years long past when I was extremely interested in the theories +of such men as Thomas Aquinas, Duns Scotus, Occam, Abelard, Tauler, +and others. Together with my chum, now a sober Professor of physics at +a German University, I freely indulged in the construction of various +world-theories, which, alas! were quickly overthrown one after another by +the slightest puff of wind. I have not lost my interest in the schoolmen, +but it is considerably weakened. + +Mr. Peirce’s repeated praise of scholastic realism and his condemnation +of any theory that he brands as nominalistic, seems to me like the method +of some of our politicians who, eager to revive toryism, should censure +all evils of the politics of to-day as whiggish. This comparison is not +exaggerated, for there are a few Hamiltonians who miss the refining +influence of an aristocratic class and regret that the historical +tradition of toryism has been so completely broken. I would not deny that +there is some truth in it, and there is some truth, too, in mediæval +realism, which has been neglected by the, first violently suppressed and +then triumphant, nominalism. But in reviving realism the Scotists should +be very careful to avoid a resurrection of its errors. + + +1. DUNS SCOTUS AS A PHILOSOPHICAL PATRON SAINT. + +Johannes Duns Scotus, a Franciscan, honored since his successful defense +of the Blessed Virgin’s Immaculate Conception by the title Doctor +Subtilis, and the very same man after whom, on account of the narrowness +of his later disciples during the time of the Reformation, a blockhead +is to-day called a dunce, was one of the most characteristic figures of +scholastic philosophy. He lived at the end of the thirteenth Century when +the authority of the philosophy of Thomas Aquinas who had died March 7th, +1274, was all but universally recognised. Scotus appeared as the most +powerful opponent of Thomas. Ingenious, original, bold, and buoyant in +his attacks he had a short but brilliant career and died comparatively +young at Cologne, in November, 1308. + +While Thomas, surnamed Dr. Universalis, or Dr. Angelicus, is regarded by +his order, the Dominicans, as the greatest authority in philosophical +matters, Scotus succeeded in impressing his mode of thought upon the +Franciscans; yet Thomas is universally regarded in the Roman church and +also among Protestant theologians as the more orthodox Christian. + +Almost all the ideas of Scotus were set forth in opposition to the views +of others and mainly of Thomas. Thomas was a determinist, Scotus an +outspoken indeterminist. Thomas says that man’s action is necessarily +determined by what he thinks is best. Scotus avers that man thinks in a +certain way because he wills in a certain way. Man’s ideas are fashioned +to suit his character. His motto is, “_voluntas superior est intellectu_” +and his idea of will is identified with the indetermined arbitrariness of +a perfect _liberum arbitrium_. According to Thomas, God commands us to do +the good because it is good. Scotus calls good that which God commands +simply because God commands it. The will of God, like the will of man is, +in Scotus’s opinion, undetermined, it is arbitrary. Thus God created the +world not because his will was determined by some motive, but because +it so pleased him; and Christ’s passion and death were not really an +atonement; they simply were accepted as such by God. + +Without entering into this controversy of _anno olim_ we might say +that we side neither with Thomas nor with Scotus, but would modify the +statement of the former by the criticism of the latter. Thomas goes +too far when he says that whatever is recognised as the best will of +necessity be done. He overlooks the power of passions. Thomas’s statement +would be right, if every passion were regarded as a will which has its +own and independent but mistaken ideas about good. A soul whose passions +are more powerful than rational considerations will necessarily be +inclined to obey its irrational impulses. There is something in Scotus’s +criticism, but his view is no improvement. In speaking of will as +superior to the intellect, did he ever ask himself the question, What his +own will would be independent of his intellect? Further, when God is said +to command the good because it is good, Thomas separates in a logical +consideration two ideas which are identical. Scotus is right in defining +good as the will of God. From our standpoint we should say, the will of +God, viz., the moral order of the universe, is of a definite kind which +can be ascertained by experience. To speak of the will of God as good is +an anthropomorphic expression. Good is that which agrees with the will of +God; bad, that which opposes it. Suppose the moral order of the universe +were different, goodness and badness would change with it. + +We have sketched the views of Scotus only to show the points of +contact between him and Mr. Peirce. Mr. Peirce is also an outspoken +indeterminist. He identifies feeling with chance, and his free will is a +_liberum arbitrium_. Mr. Peirce, like Scotus, also separates theology, +and, with it, religion, from philosophy.[133] Scotus ridicules those +who confound both, clearly indicating that he is aiming at Thomas, to +whose fervent faith their conciliation was a matter of momentous and all +important consequence. Scotus goes so far as to aver that something might +be true in philosophy which is wrong in theology (see Ed. “Wadding” Fol. +4, p. 848)—a statement that to an honest searcher for truth must almost +appear as frivolous.[134] + +How much more imbued with true religiosity was his great namesake John +Scotus Erigena the venerable founder of scholasticism when saying: “_Non +est alia philosophia, i. e. sapientiae stadium, et alia religio_.” + + +2. MR. PEIRCE’S ORIGINAL THEORIES. + +Mr. Peirce as a controversalist and critic is like Scotus, brilliant, +versatile, and powerful. But he is more; he is also constructive. + +Mr. Peirce’s style of architecture reminds us of neo-Platonism, and this +is quite in harmony with Scotism, for Scotus, through Avicebron, derived +many of his ideas from the Neo-Platonists. Mr. Peirce proposes a modern +view of emanation, which starts the world from that βῦθος of nothingness +which at the same time is the womb of all existence. The primeval state +of being, says Mr. Peirce, “Was mere nothing from a physical aspect,” +but, if it was not really nothing, what, then, was it? + +It was chance. + +Here lies the essential difference between Mr. Peirce and the +neo-Platonists. The neo-Platonists (whose speculations, if they are +treated not as philosophy, but as poetical effusions, are very profound +and thoughtful) look to the Logos, or world-reason, as the beginning +of the world emanation, while Mr. Peirce shows a certain contempt for +reason. To the neo-Platonist, reasons _are_ explanations, while to our +modern Scotist, reasons explain nothing. He says: + + “Reasons explain nothing, except upon some theistic hypothesis + which may be pardoned to the yearning heart of man, but must be + doubtful in the eyes of philosophy....” (P. 567.) + +Mr. Peirce goes so far as to speak of “the dullness of ratiocination’s +self.” + +Mr. Peirce’s gospel would deviate in the very first verse from that of +St. John, for it would read + + Ἐν ἀρχῇ ἦν ἡ τυχή.—In the Beginning was Chance! + +And this chance which was in the beginning actually is, to Mr. Peirce, +God, a personal God, an anthropomorphic deity endowed with consciousness. +He says: + + “That primeval chaos in which there was no regularity was + mere nothing from a physical aspect. Yet it was not a blank + zero; for there was an intensity of consciousness there, in + comparison with which all that we ever feel is but as the + struggling of a molecule or two to throw off a little of the + force of law to an endless and innumerable diversity of chance + utterly unlimited.” (_The Monist_, Vol. III, No. 1, p. 19.) + +And in another passage he says of chance: + + “That it is a being living and conscious is what all the + dullness that belongs to ratiocination’s self can scarce muster + hardihood to deny.” (P. 560.) + +Mr. Peirce’s argument that all the dullness that belongs to +ratiocination’s self can scarcely muster hardihood to deny his +proposition, sounds strange in the mouth of a scientist. But it is not +strange; for I have found that enthusiastic defenders of improbable +theories always fill the holes of their argumentation with abuse of those +who dare to discover these holes. Call a person who doubts the truth +of your statements dull, and you will frighten many a weak mind into a +patient acceptance of your view. + +We may rest assured that whenever a philosopher scolds he is at his wit’s +end. For why should he lose patience if he can prove his proposition? +Thus diatribes are always symptoms that there is some flaw in one’s logic +and the louder one chides the sorer is the spot. + +Mr. Peirce is serious in the statement that chance is a conscious being. +He actually identifies chance and feeling. He says: + + “Chance is but the outward aspect of that which within itself + is feeling.” + +The primordial chance, the existence of which, according to Mr. Peirce, +“calls for no explanation,” has “a primordial habit-taking tendency.” +Whence this tendency gets into the universe of absolute chance, Mr. +Peirce is unable to disclose. The deviations from the mechanical order +in the present course of things, which, by the by, are by no means +proved, suggest to him and justify, in his opinion, this assumption. +Thus, assumes he, primordial chance ceased to be chance; it changed by +a gradual habit-taking into regularities. Consciousness ceased to be +consciousness and became crystallised into natural laws. Mind ceased to +be an arbitrary sporting, and by becoming effete it begot, through a +summation of minute effects, this material universe of ours. Accordingly, +real existence or thing-ness consists merely in the regularities thus +produced, and “physical events are but the degraded ... forms of +psychical events.” + +This is in brief Mr. Peirce’s cosmogony, which, as the prophet of +Tychism, he reveals to us in axiomatic aphorisms. + +By gradual habit-taking, Mr. Peirce declares (_The Monist_, Vol. I, +No. 2, p. 176), mind will at last be “crystallised in the infinitely +distant future.” This rather sad outlook is, in another passage, modified +by a counter-oracle, which announces that “an element of pure chance +survives.” Why, he does not say. Irregularities, not being entirely +suppressed, can increase again, and as such they are “undeveloped forms +of psychical events.” Says Mr. Peirce (_The Monist_, Vol. III, No. 1, p. +18): + + “There are almost insensible fortuitous departures from + regularity; these will produce, in general, equally minute + effects.... Protoplasm is in an excessively unstable + condition.... In the protoplasm these habits are to some slight + extent broken up, so that, according to the law of mind, ... + feeling becomes intensified. + + “This breaking up of habit and renewed fortuitous spontaneity + will, according to the law of mind, be accompanied by an + intensification of feeling.” + +This is the gist of Mr. Peirce’s mental philosophy, which proclaims that +“consciousness is not to be reinstated without tychism.” The reappearance +of chance is said to explain the origin of mind! + +Our conception of mind is different. We see mind develop out of sentiency +by the recognition of the regularities of the surrounding world. Reason +is almost a synonym of man’s ability to form generalisations, of his +having and operating with concepts, of his thinking ideas. Not the +arbitrariness of a wilful mind is the properly mental of man’s soul, +but his reason; and man’s reason originates under the influence of the +uniformities of the surrounding world, which impress themselves, in what +we call experience, upon his existence. The more a creature recognises +the regularities of existence, and the more its soul becomes an image of +this world-order, which is the prototype of his reason, of the divine +Logos, the higher it rises in the scale of evolution. + +If chance, as Mr. Peirce declares, is but the outward aspect of that +which within is feeling, we should henceforth have to look upon the +roulette and dice as sentient beings. + + +3. THE FOUR POSITIVE ARGUMENTS OF TYCHISM INSUFFICIENT. + +Mr. Peirce adduces four positive arguments for believing in absolute +chance. They are: (1) the prevalence of growth; (2) the variety of the +universe; (3) the necessity of explaining law; and (4) the existence of +feeling. + +By growth, Mr. Peirce does not understand the growth of crystals, or +trees, or organisms. That kind of growth is a mere transformation. +Mr. Peirce’s idea of “real” growth is “opposed to the conservation +of energy.” It is not an increase of the thing growing through the +assimilation of substances taken from the surrounding world; it is an +actual increase of energy, not a mere change; it is a growth of the +universe itself. Granted the possibility of this so-called “real” growth, +and we can easily explain the evolution of the world out of the tiniest +beginning. But, of course, one thing has to go: either the conservation +of energy or “real growth.” Mr. Peirce lets go the former, I the +latter.[135] + +The variety of the universe is, in my world-conception, sufficiently +explained by the variety of forms, for form is indeed the _principium +individuationis_; a doctrine, which, but for Mr. Peirce’s philosophy, +I should regard as almost universally accepted. Among its advocates we +find also Mr. Peirce’s great master, Duns Scotus, and Scotus’s teacher, +Avicebron. In so far as various formations are possible, (exactly as the +die can show six different surfaces,) chance plays an important part in +the diversification of nature, but this chance is not to be thought of as +a violation of the law, but appears to be a special case only, and a true +manifestation of the law under complicated conditions. + +Chance and probability are not mere subjective ideas, creatures of our +ignorance, playing a rôle simply in our limited knowledge of the world. +The words signify a certain condition of objective existence. + +For instance, the probability of throwing 1 with one die is 1/6. +This means, the die is so constructed that it can show six different +positions, one among them being 1; and these six possibilities are as +real a quality of the die, as its weight or its color. + +The die has six possible positions. Now I take a die and throw 3. Are we +not entitled to believe that the throw was sufficiently determined by all +the innumerable conditions which accompany the act? We confidently think +so, and feel no need of assuming any absolute chance. Now I throw again. +What is now the probability of throwing 1? We answer again, 1/6. And, lo! +there it is! It came at the second throw, and we ask, was our statement +of the probabilities wrong? We say, no! it was not wrong, for it remains +true even now. The statement does not mean that we shall throw a 1 at +each sixth throw, but that (supposing the die to be perfect) 1/6 among +all the possible throws will be 1, so that supposing all the possible +throws realised in an infinite series of throws, the average number of +1’s among them will be the one-sixth part of the whole. + +The enormous importance of chance (viz., of that real chance which is +no violation of the law) has been recognised since Democritus and has +received a fresh illustration from the investigations of Darwin, which I +need not here recapitulate. + +The theory of probabilities teaches, that whatever can happen in the long +course of an infinite number of events, actually will happen, and that +whatever, according to the nature of things, has a greater probability, +will in an infinite number of cases occur with proportionately greater +frequency. + +The lesson which we have to draw from this statement is, that that which +we wish not to happen, should be made impossible. And this can be done, +perhaps not perfectly, but approximately. According to Mr. Peirce, the +evolution of mind is due to the reappearance of chance; we say that the +evolution of mind is marked by man’s increasing power in the restriction +of chance. + +The identification of chance with feeling, or even with mind, is to me an +idea so grotesque, that I am inclined to regard it as a relic of gnostic +speculations. + +Mr. Peirce, instead of attempting to comprehend laws, as we do, seeks to +trace their origin. He tries to explain their existence by growth, as if +they were beings that evolve like the forms of planetary systems or the +organisms of living creatures. Considering the fact that Mr. Peirce is a +realist only in name, and that his philosophy is soaked with nominalistic +traditions, we should say (and Mr. Peirce will pardon me that I quote the +expression from him) that: + + “The puzzle for him is simply the usual difficulty that plagues + nominalism when it finds itself confronted with a reality which + has an element of generality.” + +The assumption of absolute chance might be used to account for any +otherwise inexplicable event, but Mr. Peirce does not countenance this +idea. He warns us to be cautious in its use, like the druggist who labels +his poisons “handle with care”; “I only use chance,” he says, “to give +room for the development of law.” Having used absolute chance to start +the world with, he dismisses it. So Fiesco discharges his negro after he +has done his work: “_Der Mohr hat seine Schuldigkeit gethan, der Mohr +kann gehen_.” + +In my criticism of Mr. Peirce’s theory I said (_The Monist_, II, p. 574): + + “How little, after all, we can escape the determinism of law as + being a feature of the world, will be seen from the fact that + the explanation for the evolution of law is presented by Mr. + Peirce as being itself a law, i. e., a formula describing a + regularity supposed to obtain in facts.” + +Mr. Peirce replies: + + “Is there no difference between a law, the essence of which + is to be inviolable ... and _that mental law, the violation + of which is so included in the essence that unless it were + violated, it would cease to exist_?... Thus I clearly escape + the contradiction attributed to me.” (P. 561.) + +Mr. Peirce’s escape is like the disappearance of a medium from a room +without doors. He must have got out through the fourth dimension. The +argument is so subtle that I cannot see it, and I feel tempted to retort +in a sentence quoted from my profound adversary: + + “I confess, I can find only words without ideas in the + objection.” (P. 561.) + +Mr. Peirce speaks of law as having developed out of chance, but he +himself, in fact, after a fashion, explains the origin of those laws of +nature which represent its present uniformities by a law of habit-taking. + +That the conservation of energy should leave no room for feeling is +to me an obscure proposition. The law of the conservation of energy +declares only that the sum of all energy in the world, potential as well +as kinetic, remains constant. If a living and feeling being renews its +waste and stores up new energy in its tissues, it must take it out of the +general storehouse of nature; it must transform it, and cannot produce it +out of nothing. Why should feeling become impossible, if the conservation +of energy is true? + +The identification of chance with feeling is, to my mind, a vagary. It is +true that feeling develops mind; mind makes deliberation possible, and +deliberation implies choice. But choice is not chance. The choice which +a man makes is determined by his character. There is more resemblance +between logical identity and a pun, than between feeling and chance. + + +4. THE NEGATIVE ARGUMENT A LOGICAL FALLACY. + +The four positive arguments for believing in absolute chance are +untenable. But Mr. Peirce, knowing that he had to weather a storm of +criticisms, has taken along a sheet-anchor, consisting of a negative +argument, which, if it were true, would make the four positive arguments +redundant. + +What shall we say to the statement, that chance need not be explained? +Mr. Peirce says: + + “Chance, according to me, or irregularity—that is, the absence + of any coincidence,—calls for no explanation. If _law_ calls + for explanation, as Dr. Carus admits it does, surely the + mere absence of law calls for no further explanation than is + afforded by the mere absence of any particular circumstance + necessitating the result.” (P. 559.) + +Mr. Peirce is a great logician, but the logical arguments of his +philosophy are not sound. If the absence of law, of coincidences, of +regularities, did not require explanation, the scientist would (as is +but right) still have to explain the uniformities of nature, but the +miracle monger would have a good time; for he could tell us boldly that, +according to the rules of modern logic he is not bound to give any +explanation. + +It is true that while everything must be explained, the absence of +everything (i. e. nothing) need not be explained; but we cannot use +this pattern as a schedule which can be filled out at our pleasure. The +ideas “absence of,” “no,” “no one,” and “nothing” play a part in logic +analogous to that of zero in mathematics. I need hardly remind the +reader of the puzzling demonstration, that since one cat has one tail +more than _no_ cat, and since no cat has eight tails, one cat must have +nine tails. Operations with zero act like death in the realm of human +conventionalities. Death makes the beggar equal to the king. Multiply any +equation that is wrong with zero, and it will be correct. Operations with +zero render the impossible possible. + +But let us look closer at Mr. Peirce’s proposition. He avers that “the +mere absence of any particular circumstance necessitating the result +calls for no explanation.” + +Should it ever happen that the absence of any particular circumstance +necessitates the result, I do not see why this absence should remain +unexplained. Say for instance, a certain stronghold is taken because the +enemy discovers the absence of guards in a certain part of the walls. If +this absence of guards be counted as an important circumstance helpful +in the conquest of the citadel (and there is no reason why we should not +count it as such) can we say that while the presence of guards on all +other spots of the wall has to be and can be explained as an endeavor to +secure the place against a _coup de main_, the mere absence of guards +calls for no explanation? The absence of guards in a particular spot +of the Capitol during the siege by the Gauls, was accounted for by the +steepness of the place. This particular spot was regarded as safe on +account of its inaccessibility. Similarly, the absence of guards in the +citadel of the Messenians is explained by the idea that the Spartans +would make no attack because in that particularly stormy night a +cloudburst seemed to prevent all approach. + +Obviously the necessity of explaining a rule, does not confer the +privilege of neglecting to explain its exceptions. + +It goes without saying that Mr. Peirce’s argument (even if it were +formally faultless) can have no force with a necessitarian. Such +a one, after having explained and proved to his satisfaction that +_Gesetzmässigkeit_ (or regularity such as can be formulated in laws) is a +characteristic feature of the universe, is not only asked to believe that +there are after all exceptions to law, but is even told that according to +some paragraph in Mr. Peirce’s unwritten logic of relatives no further +argument is needed to prove the non-existence of law. Only Mr. Peirce’s +extreme love of his pet theories can make him blind to such palpable +fallacies. But such are the foundations of his philosophical architecture. + + +III. MR. PEIRCE AS A CRITIC. + +A good general, who has to mask the weak points of his position, uses +the strategem of making demonstrative sallies upon his enemy. Mr. +Peirce, although apparently quite unconscious of the fact that his basic +doctrines are untenable, instinctively imitates this maxim of warfare. +His defence is mostly aggressive. Instead of replying to my arguments he +endeavors to represent my views as incohesive and contradictory. + +The present issue is not whether my views are tenable, but whether Mr. +Peirce’s are. However, I am glad to have the benefit of the searching +criticism of so subtle a thinker as Mr. Peirce. Therefore, I willingly +appear before his tribunal to expurgate myself of his charges. + + +1. THE A PRIORI AND POSITIVISM. + +Mr. Peirce is greatly puzzled with my position. He quotes several +statements of mine which appear to him contradictory. I said: (1) that +millions of _single_ experiences cannot establish a belief in necessity, +(2) that necessitarianism must be founded upon the _a priori_, and (3) +that the _a priori_ must be founded upon experience.[136] To him who +overlooks the here italicised word “single” this may, indeed, seem to be +a vicious circle. + +All knowledge begins with experience. We define experience as the effects +of events upon sentient beings, and these effects are sense-impressions +of certain forms and interrelations. At an advanced stage of evolution, +the formal and relational are first unconsciously, as, for instance, in +counting, and then consciously, with scientific deliberation, abstracted +from the sensory. Systems of pure forms are constructed out of the purely +formal elements, thus gained from experience by abstraction, such as +our system of numbers and the logical categories. Now the laws of these +forms of thought are applicable to all formal and relational conditions +of reality. The formal and relational of reality are known to us even +in those regions of the universe and in those provinces of scientific +investigation which have not as yet been explored. The scientist knows +them _a priori_, even before he investigates objects which he never saw +before. He is acquainted with certain of their qualities, viz., with the +laws of their formal and relational conditions. + +Thus the _a priori_, or, as I prefer to call it, formal thought, is a +product of experience, and is again applicable to experience. + +Single experiences, isolated observations, innumerable particular cases +cannot directly yield or reveal the laws of formal thought. So long as +they remain single and isolated they will never develop into mental +factors; but such is the nature of reality that the single experiences +will be built up and arranged in feeling substance as systematically +as, for instance, the formation of crystals or the harmonious growth of +cells in organisms? When sentient creatures become conscious not only +of the sensory element of their experience, but also of this system of +their soul, of the formal of their psychical existence, they become +rational beings; and the formal which grows with their sentiency is not +an exclusive and peculiar quality of theirs; it is not purely subjective, +but it has been imparted to them, piecemeal, together with the single +data of their experience. It constitutes a part of their _Anschauung_; it +is found in the objective world and is a general feature of reality. + +Out of the formal elements of our _Anschauungen_, of the facts of +experience, that organ of cognition is developed which Kant calls “pure +reason.” + +Experience is often used to denote sense-experience only; thus Kant +contrasts experience or sense-perception, which he calls _a posteriori_, +with pure reason and formal thought, which he calls _a priori_. We use +experience in the sense defined above, _so as to include the formal +element_. + +I am unable to form a clear conception of Mr. Peirce’s view of the _a +priori_. Those systems of formal thought which I regard as constructions +he regards as products of analysis. He says, “They are results dependent +upon the action of reason in the depths of our own consciousness.” He +only grants that “their abstract and distinct formulation comes very +late.” He still holds that the _a priori_ is innate. + +In my conception, mathematical ideas, like that of the contrivance of +logarithms, are inventions; and they are constructions as much as the +invention of the steam-engine by James Watt. + +There is one peculiarity about the purely formal which is not found in +the sensory elements of experience. Our knowledge of the various spheres +of the purely formal is of a general nature; it applies to any form of +the same kind. This gives system to our formal conceptions, and enables +us to make statements which are rigidly and unequivocally determined. It +is this quality which makes them available as an organ of cognition when +dealing with facts of experience. They furnish us with methods, schedules +of reference, and plans which like blanks have to be filled out. + +Science begins with the application of formal thought, viz., with +counting, measuring, and classifying. Only with the assistance of the +formal sciences can we master the material of the sensory data of +experience; and thus it happens that the formal is the condition, not of +any kind of experience, but of every systematic experience. + +The formal sciences are the tools of cognition. That to which they cannot +be applied remains unexplained, and this is the ultimate reason why +processes of nature can be regarded as explained only when recognised as +processes of transformation. Cognition is the tracing of form. We can +understand a change only if it is a change of form. We cannot understand +how anything real can disappear into, or originate out of, nothing. We +have no explanation for any actual increase or decrease either of matter +or energy. Whenever we see something entirely new we regard it as a new +combination, the elements of which existed before. + +If there were processes in the universe which could positively be proved +not to be transformations we should be confronted with an unfathomable +mystery; and it is a matter of course that we must not be duped so easily +by the appearance of problems which cannot be solved at first sight. The +advance of science which has resolved so many mysterious phenomena into +plain instances of transformation gives us confidence that this method +is the only reliable maxim of inquiry. It has helped us so far, and it +will help us in the future. + + * * * * * + +I call my views positivism, because like the French positivists and also +like Locke and his school I maintain that all knowledge is to be derived +from the positive facts of experience. But my positivism is not of the +old kind; it is neither sensationalism nor materialism nor Comtism. It is +a new positivism broadened by a study of Kantian philosophy and Kant’s +problem of the _a priori_; and this new positivism, I hope, deserves the +attention of the thinkers of mankind. + +Mr. Peirce calls it a “straddling of the question,” by which he means +that a man is “on both sides of the fence,” and has learned so to +formulate the issues, “that both parties can readily subscribe to his +propositions.” + + +2. DETERMINISM AND FATALISM. + +Fatalism and determinism must not be confounded. We define determinism +as that view, according to which every event is determined by its +conditions. The decision of a man whose liberty is not curtailed by any +compulsion, so that he can act as he pleases exactly in agreement with +his character, is determined objectively by the motive and subjectively +by his character. A man of a certain character in a given situation will +act in a way that is perfectly determinable. + +Determinism, as I take it, does not exclude free-will. Nor does it +exclude such chance as is, for instance, the incidental turning up of the +various faces of a die. + +Determinism is the basis of science, and also of ethics as a science. If +the decision of a free will were merely the result of chance, why should +our teachers and preachers take so much trouble to form character? + +While determinism is a sound doctrine, fatalism is a superstition. +Fatalism excludes the idea of free will. We define fatalism as that view +which regards the fate of a man, whatsoever he may do, as fixed. For +instance, we call the orthodox Mohammedan a fatalist; he looks at the +flame without quenching it, because he argues, “if it is Allah’s will +that my house burn down, it will burn down, whatever I may do.” + +In my reply to Mr. Peirce (_The Monist_, Vol. II, p. 572) I approvingly +quoted from him a passage containing the word “fate,” adding that here +“the word ‘fate’ must be understood as Mr. Peirce understands it.” In +spite of this warning, Mr. Peirce employs this quotation made from _his_ +writings as if it were mine, and calls attention to the inconsistency +involved in the different application of the word. This charge of +inconsistency is neither judicious nor fair! + +We define “necessary” as “that which is determined.” + +Determined means describable. Necessity is that feature of things which +makes it possible that we can, in proportion to our knowledge, describe +beforehand or predict the course of events. + +Kant’s definition of “necessary,” as given in his “Critique of Pure +Reason,” is narrower. He says: + + “That the coherence of which with the real is determined + according to universal conditions of experience is necessary, + or exists necessarily.” + +This means in our phraseology, “that feature of the real which is +determined by the laws of form.” + +The word “determinism” has been inappropriately used in the sense of +fatalism, in which sense it has to be condemned as a superstition. +The term is needed, however, to denote a basic principle of great +value. “Determinism,” if used in the sense which the word literally +indicates, means “that view which regards all events as determined by its +conditions.” Determinism does not mean that everything is decreed by some +fate, that some Deity or other power has determined the course of events. +It means that definite conditions produce definite results, and that the +results can be ascertained and described, if _all_ the conditions are +known. + +Fatalism is a peculiar kind of determinism, and, indeed, an obviously +erroneous one. Fatalism rests upon a dualistic conception, regarding +necessity as a foreign force residing outside and above things and +compelling them to act in a special way. It is the Moira of the ancients +and the Kismet of the Mohammedans. The monistic view knows nothing of +a foreign force or supermundane _fatum_ enacting a special course +of affairs. Necessity, in the monistic conception, simply denotes +the determinedness of results by its conditions; it signifies that +_Gesetzmässigkeit_, or regularity according to law, is a feature of +reality. We need not repeat again that the monistic view of determinism +excludes neither chance nor free-will. It only excludes “absolute” chance +and that indeterminable arbitrariness which is sometimes said to be +free-will. + +If events were not determined, if under the very same conditions the +same causes could bring about different results, so that no regularities +formulable in laws existed, the world would be a chaos and no cosmos, +absolute chance would prevail, and science would be impossible. + +Mr. Peirce not only confounds fate and necessity, but he also identifies +them with resistance, and with reality. My idea of necessity has as +little to do with the experience of, reaction as, for instance, with +the idea of density, or with pleasure and pain. To confound such +heterogeneous concepts must be productive of confusion. No wonder that +Mr. Peirce makes the confession that these ideas seem to him “of a mixed +nature.” + +That my presentation of the case of Determinism _versus_ Free-will +results in “a doctrine to which the advocates of free-will will generally +subscribe as readily as their opponents,” is used as a reproach; but I do +not take it as such, for my intention is not to side with one party, but +to bring out the truth of both views. + + +3. NATURAL LAWS, DESCRIPTIONS. + +Mr. Peirce makes the following allegation of inconsistency. He says of me: + + “The declaration (§ 198) that ‘natural laws are simply a + description of nature as nature is,’ and that ‘the facts of + nature express the character of nature,’ are nominalistic. But + in another place (107-116) he says distinctly that uniformities + are real.” (P. 531.) + +I am unable to detect any inconsistency in these expressions. The gist of +these three statements is this: the formulas usually called natural laws +describe certain uniformities of reality. + +The expression “description of nature” is by no means nominalistic. If +law is said to be a description, it is not a mere name, but presupposes +the existence of some objective reality for the description of which it +has been formulated. + + +4. CAUSATION. + +Mr. Peirce’s usage of the word “cause” is very unsettled. He says (p. +538): + + “The original idea of an efficient cause is that of an agent, + more or less like man.” + +The original idea of “cause” is the struggle of reaching an end or +bringing about a certain state of things. The Latin _causa_ means “a +lawsuit.” + +In a similar way, the German _Ursache_ does not mean the original thing, +but a “seeking.” _Sache_ is the English _sake_ and Gothic _sakjô_, +meaning “struggle,” or “quarrel.” It is derived from the same root as the +verb “to seek.” + +Like _causa_, the word _Ursache_ was used as a legal term. + +Mr. Peirce further states: + + “The modern mechanical conception, on the other hand, is + that the relative positions of particles determine their + accelerations at the instants when they occupy those + positions.” (P. 538.) + + “In dynamics, it is the fixed force, gravitation, or whatever + else, together with those relative positions of the bodies that + determine the intensity and direction of the forces, that is + regarded as the cause.” (P. 540.) + + “The practice which I endeavor to follow in regard to the + word _cause_ is, to use it in the Aristotelian sense of an + _efficient cause_ in all its crudeness.” (P. 541.) + + “When my idea is a more general and logical one, I prefer to + speak of the explanation.” (P. 541.) + +No wonder that some causes are prior to their effects, others +simultaneous, and that effects may even be prior to their causes! Using +the word in various senses, Mr. Peirce becomes so entangled about +causation, that in mustering the ideas force, position, reason, law, +cause, and explanation, he no longer knows which is which. + + * * * * * + +Mr. Peirce being unable to bring any consistency into the usage of the +term “cause,” drops it entirely as a philosophical word. This is Dr. +Ironbeard’s method, who kills his patient to save him pain. + +There was a time when I felt inclined to follow that plan of dealing +with words in this predicament. But I found out very soon that there is +not one difficult word in philosophical language which is not or was not +at some time or other almost universally maltreated by the professional +thinkers of mankind. What, then, is to be done? Shall we eradicate all +old terms that are erroneously used and create a philosophical Volapük, +which will have the advantage of being unincumbered with the errors of a +long historical inheritance, but the disadvantage of being nowhere spoken +and nowhere understood, except by its inventors? + +Dr. Ironbeard’s method of dealing with terms is radical. It imitates the +method of the social reformers who, on finding something wrong in society +generally, propose to tear down the entire social structure, and begin +the world over again from its beginning. + +Most of the terms which have been in use for centuries and even +millenniums, I have found to correspond to a special want of expressing +some definite reality or constant group of realities or important +relation among realities. The misuse of different words almost invariably +has its origin in a consideration of the name alone, to the neglect +of the reality denoted by the name. And misuses can be mended only by +carefully investigating the realities themselves for the denotation of +which the words have been invented. If we were to make a clean sweep +of the “superstitions,” soul, God, cause, natural law, etc., because +in many minds there are superstitious notions connected with these +ideas, we should soon have to invent new terms for the realities which +necessitated the formation of the old ones. The great bulk of religious +and philosophical words originated because in each case there was an +actual want of a phrase to denote some specific reality. The errors of +the various terms arise because our ideas concerning the nature of these +realities have not as yet been matured, and it is the office of the +philosopher to contribute his mite toward their clarification. + +Causation, in my conception, is transformation. Take any system of +conditions and let it somehow be changed. The event which starts the +change is called the cause, the new configuration produced, the effect. +The various factors of the system are the conditions or circumstances. + +Taking this view, I _do not say_ that the effect is the cause +transformed. The total effect is the cause plus all the circumstances +transformed. The effect is something radically different from the cause. +The cause is always an event, that is a motion of some kind; the effect, +a new arrangement, a new formation, a new state of things, or perhaps the +dissolution of an old state of things. + +While cause and effect are different, the whole process of causation, +including cause, circumstances, and effect, is to be viewed as one +fact, or, rather, as one system of facts; and a process of causation is +explained, (as we have seen above) as soon as it is so described that we +recognise it as a transformation.[137] + +There is a popular usage which calls the cause of the falling stone +gravitation. This kind of cause is not an event, not a motion, but a law +of nature, and I prefer to call it “the reason” for the stone’s fall. + +Mr. Peirce defines a reason as follows: + + “A reason, in one sense, is the replacement of a + multiple-subject of an observational proposition by a general + subject, which by the very conditions of the special experience + is predicable of the multiple subject.” (P. 558.) + +This somewhat stilted definition seems upon the whole to agree with what +I also call “a reason.” All the reasons by which we comprehend nature are +formulated in statements which describe those general features of reality +which we call “laws of nature.” + +Who does not see that causes (i. e., events which produce effects) and +reasons (i. e., the formulas by which we comprehend the uniformities of +nature) are two radically different ideas, and who can deny that the +denotation of these two radically different ideas, by one and the same +term, must and actually does bring about lamentable confusion in the +minds of philosophers! Accordingly, let us call them by different names; +never mind what we call them, but let us distinguish them. I regard the +usage stated here as the most appropriate. We call “the cause” of the +stone’s fall that event which removed its support; but when we inquire +after the reason why the stone falls, we want to know the law of nature +which describes in a general formula that quality of stones which makes +them fall. + + +5. THE FUTURE IN MENTAL CAUSATION. + +It seems as if some evil genius had caused Mr. Peirce to cross my +position everywhere, even where I should expect to find him in perfect +agreement. + +Concerning mental and mechanical causation he first startles me with an +italicised proposition which declares: + + “_There is no mechanical truth in saying that the past + determines the future rather than the future the past._” (P. + 539.) + +Mr. Peirce apparently intends to discredit the belief that the past +determines the future. He adds: + + “We continue, for convenience, to talk of mechanical phenomena + as if they were regulated, in the same manner in which our + intentions regulate our actions, (which is essentially a + determination of the future by the past,) although we are quite + aware that it is not really so.” (P. 539.) + +In other words, Mr. Peirce contends that our view of mechanical causation +is based upon an analogy with mental causation; the latter being a +determination of the future by the past, we conclude that the former is +regulated in the same manner. + +This is an old error which rests on the supposition that cognition begins +with introspection or self-knowledge. The truth is that all cognition +begins with objective observation. + +We have to say, (1) that man’s view of mechanical causation has not been +fashioned after the model of mental causation, and (2) that the future +actually enters as a factor in mental causation. We do not believe that +the future determines the past, but it does determine the present. + +Should we judge of the causation of mechanical motions from our own +mental experience, we should certainly reach other conclusions than we +do, for the most characteristic feature of mental causation, that which +essentially distinguishes it from mechanical causation, is the fact that +the future actually enters into it as the main factor. + +We as rational beings, and the lower animals also on a smaller scale, +do know to some extent the future. We know by experience the effects of +certain actions. This fact of the future’s being partly known, makes +it possible for the future to enter as a factor in mental causation. +I go so far as to maintain that there is no mental causation except +some consideration of the future be contained in the motive cause. The +presence of a plan, of an end kept in view, of an aim to be reached +in the future, is exactly what distinguishes the purposive action of +thinking beings from mechanical events. + + +6. MENTAL CAUSATION. + +Mr. Peirce has discovered in my expositions of mechanical and mental +action what he believes to be a flagrant contradiction, and, as if +it were the exhibition of my scalp, displays it triumphantly (§ 27) +in capitals and italics. “No objection can be made,” I said, “to the +possibility of explaining the motions ... of the brain by the laws of +molar and molecular mechanics.” And “yet the simplest psychical reflexes +cannot be explained from mechanical or physical laws alone.” + +Is this really a contradiction, or is it Mr. Peirce’s inability to +discover the agreement between the two statements? Let us see. + +Take a little toy fish of tin with a small iron rod in its snout, +floating in the water, and push the fish so that it shoots forward with +a certain velocity in a straight line. Now take a magnet and hold it at +a short distance from the prolonged path of the fish. The fish at once +changes its course; it now describes a curve which according to the +laws of mechanics is determined (omitting any other possible modifying +circumstances) by the momentum of the push, the velocity of which is +gradually diminished by the friction of the water, and the attraction of +the magnet. These are the data, and from these data the motion of the +fish is unequivocally determined by the laws of mechanics. + +Now, when we speak of the motion of the fish, we mean the motion, and +not the iron rod, or the qualities of the iron rod, in its snout. While +speaking of motion or the laws of motion, and while calculating the curve +of a motion, our ideas move in a perfectly defined sphere of abstraction +from which all other things and considerations are excluded. This method +of abstraction which is the essence of human thought and also of that +special kind of human thought called science, is the way by which alone +we are enabled to arrive at clear distinctions and lucid explanations. We +have to keep our various abstractions stored in an orderly manner in our +mind, each one in a special box. If we do not distinguish the different +spheres of abstraction and their limits, we shall soon confound all +issues in a hopeless chaos. + +But we find, on further examination, that in this limitation of the +description to the abstract sphere of pure motion only a part of +the process before us is described. The description explains fully, +exhaustively, and satisfactorily the mechanical aspect of the case, but +it does not explain why the magnet attracts iron. The attraction of +the magnet consists in the definite qualities of (1) the magnet, (2) +the iron, and (3) the medium between them. When we inquire after an +explanation of the physical qualities of things, we enter into another +sphere of abstraction, viz., that of physics. That physics will have +to be explained as a domain of molecular mechanics may be mentioned +incidentally. + +Take another and simpler instance: the fall of a stone. The motion of +the stone, its increasing velocity during the fall can be explained +according to the laws of mechanics; but that quality of the stone called +gravity, which is the reason of its fall, cannot be deduced from the laws +of mechanics. The gravity of a mass is treated in mechanics as the given +fact or datum, an investigation into the nature of which is excluded from +the sphere of mechanics. He who demands of mechanics an explanation of +gravity searches in the wrong box. + +When we come to the investigation of psychical phenomena, we strike a +feature which is entirely absent in mechanics, physics, and chemistry. +It is the appearance of feeling. Feelings vary according to the various +impressions made by surrounding objects. The same objects making the +same impressions, special kinds of feelings come to stand for or to +represent their respective kinds of objects, and thus feelings acquire +meaning, feelings become ideas. This peculiarity of sentiency, that it +has acquired meaning, is the characteristic feature of “mind.” + +When speaking of mind I refer to all those phenomena of meaning-freighted +feelings which ensoul thinking beings; and the domain of psychology is +thus again quite a distinct domain of abstraction. + +Now let us return to the contradiction of which Mr. Peirce accuses me. + +An idea which physiologically considered is a special brain-structure or +combination of brain-structures, reacts upon a given stimulus, which, let +us say, is the sound of a certain word. The word is a sound-symbol and +the word possesses a certain meaning. The word spoken having the same +meaning as a special idea that is thought, while its brain-structure is +agitated, possesses a quality comparable to chemical affinities. This +peculiar word will serve as a stimulus for this peculiar idea. It will +not (at least not directly) stimulate other ideas—as little as a chemical +that has no affinity for the ingredients of another chemical will cause a +reaction. Why the motion takes place calls for a psychical explanation, +but the motion itself takes place in strict accord with the laws of +mechanics. + +But are not the laws of mechanics annulled by the laws of physics, and +those of physiology by the laws of psychology? + +No, they are not annulled, but modified. + +A piece of iron that falls to the ground with the same velocity as a +stone of equal weight will be held up by a magnet strong enough to hold +it. This is not an annulment of the gravity of the iron; it is not a +reversion of the law of gravitation; gravitation holds in this case as +good as in any other. It is only a modification and a complication. We +must remember that the law of gravity does not say, the non-supported +piece of iron or stone will drop, it says that all bodies are attracted +by the earth with a definite force depending upon their mass and +position. And this attraction takes place in our example; the iron +supported by the magnet retains all its inherent gravity, which is +constantly asserting itself, although counteracted by the force of the +attraction of the magnet. + +Since the mechanical, chemical, psychical, etc. qualities represent +reality in various abstract aspects, we should know that there are no +purely mechanical, no purely chemical, no purely psychical phenomena. +Every real phenomenon, i. e. the original whole from which the +abstractions have been made, presents a complex state of things of which +many various aspects can and must be taken. + +I repeat now without fear of contradiction or miscomprehension, +that brain-motions are perfectly explainable by the laws of molar +and molecular mechanics, while psychical reflexes, not being purely +mechanical processes, cannot be explained by mechanical laws. The +properly psychical and the properly mental are other elements of an +entirely different nature from the mechanical and the physical. They +belong to a radically different sphere of abstraction. He who tries to +explain the psychical by the mechanical, looks for his explanation in the +wrong box. And he who regards the proposition that the mechanical laws +hold good for all motions without any exception, but that they cannot be +called upon to explain that which is not motion, as a contradiction, has +not as yet learned practically to apply the method of abstraction. + +It is strange that we have to give this little lesson in the elements +of abstraction lore to so prominent a logician as Mr. Peirce. We feel +inclined to exclaim: “Art thou a master of Israel and knowest not these +things?” + + +STRAY SHOTS. + +There are a number of incidental comments aimed at scattered points of +my position. I call them “stray shots”; they have exploded without harm. +While going over the battle-field I shall pick them up and will throw +some of them back into Mr. Peirce’s camp, whence they came. + +Mr. Peirce is in the habit of calling every approach to his views “deep,” +while divergencies are branded as “shallow.”— + +Hume’s scepticism is called Leibnitz’s principle, by which latter Mr. +Peirce apparently means that innumerable single cases of experience +alone do not constitute certainty. Why Mr. Peirce demands that Hume’s +conclusion which Leibnitz never would have countenanced, should be +identified with Leibnitz’s principle from which it is derived is not +apparent.— + +How easily Mr. Peirce changes his opinion! Venn’s “Logic of Chance,” +which Mr. Peirce so much admired formerly, has become “a blundering +little book.”— + +Synechism and agapasticism, viz., the principle of continuity and the +idea of love as main factors of evolution are nothing new. I have +always defended them, although not in the peculiar way that Mr. Peirce +does.[138] In his article “Evolutionary Love” he appears to me unjust +toward Darwin. I do not think that I should improve my propositions, +which are in their way synechistic as well as agapastic, by adopting +either Mr. Peirce’s terms or his presentation of these principles.— + +Mr. Peirce says, he does not doubt that my idea of mental causation was +intended to be an improvement on his molecular theory of protoplasm. I +can assure Mr. Peirce that I had no such intentions. I held my view long +before I ever had a chance of knowing Mr. Peirce’s molecular theory of +protoplasm. Moreover, I am unable to discover any similarity between his +views and mine.— + +I took pains to explain that, if we disregard the notion of form, every +transformation, that is, every case of causation, will appear as a most +miraculous and inexplicable event. To illustrate my view I said that +“_supposing we had no idea of the laws of form or only an incoherent and +fragmentary knowledge of them_,” it would be “a very wonderful thing” +that two congruent regular tetrahedrons when put together will form a +hexahedron—a body which is something new. And I added to this statement, +“_but the laws of form do perfectly and satisfactorily explain it_.” +How great was my astonishment to see Mr. Peirce with great complacency +take up the problem and explain it! Indeed, it is true. That the +combination of two congruent regular tetrahedrons will make a hexahedron, +is wonderful _only_ to him who does not understand the laws of form. +Otherwise, it is not wonderful. I was amused at Mr. Peirce’s ingenuity to +prove to me that it is a case of 8-2=6.— + +There is a difference between the combination of two tetrahedrons and +of the atoms _H₂O_. Mr. Peirce tells me, that the one is ideal, the +other real—“a difference which to his Scotistic mind is very important.” +Did Mr. Peirce think, indeed, that I was not aware of this difference, +or does he mean to establish a rule never to compare the relations as +developed in the sciences of pure forms to the relations that obtain in +reality?— + +Says Mr. Peirce in one passage, there is a difference between the ideal +and the real, which to his Scotistic mind is very important. In another +passage he declares that “the nominalist alone makes a sharp distinction +between the abstract and the concrete.”— + +Mr. Peirce smiles at the endeavor of reconciling religion with science. +For he thinks: + + “It is a thing which will come to pass of itself when time is + ripe, and that our efforts to hasten it have just that slight + effect that our efforts to hasten the ripening of apples on a + tree may have.” (P. 545.) + +Mr. Peirce forgets that the religious fruits of the conciliation between +religion and science are our own sentiments. He who says that man should +be indifferent about working out the truth, on the plea that truth will +take care of itself, is comparable to the apple-tree, that refuses to +work out the ripening of the apples. The proposition to let religion and +science work out their destinies, one of which is their mutual agreement, +of themselves, is irreligious and also unscientific. Truth will not take +care of itself if we do not strain all our efforts to find truth; and the +kingdom of heaven will never come unless (as Christ taught, Matt. 11, 12) +“it suffereth violence, and the violent take it by force.”— + +The same Mr. Peirce who says that our efforts to hasten the conciliation +of religion with science are useless, believes in miracles and proposes a +theory that prayer can work miracles.— + +Several philosophers, such as Locke and Hegel, have complained of the +uselessness of the logical law of identity _A_ = _A_, and also of its +barrenness for any practical purpose. The law of identity has been +invented nevertheless, because there is a want for it; and this want, in +my opinion, was felt because the statement of sameness (as set forth in +_The Monist_, Vol. III, p. 70, et seqq.) is one of the most elementary +and important forms of reasoning, being indispensable, for instance, in +mathematics where it appears as equations. We may simply laugh at the old +logicians + + “Who whirl in narrow circling trails, + Like kittens playing with their tails.” + +We may impatiently discard the whole proceeding as empty talk, yet +I submit that we had better try to understand the meaning of their +unprofitable exertions and the drift of their apparently meaningless +argumentations. If we regard the principle of absolute identity as the +formula of sameness (in the sense explained in the quoted passage, _The +Monist_, Vol. III, No. 1, p. 70, et seqq.) emptied of its contents we +shall understand why logicians wasted so much energy on an entirely +barren subject. We shall readily condone their mistakes in consideration +of the importance of the subject. It is difficult to say how much we have +profited by their blunders.— + +Mr. Peirce uses the terms analytical and synthetical in a new sense for +reasons which he explains at greater length in his “Theory of Probable +Inferences.” He says, “analytical reasoning depends upon associations +of similarity; synthetical reasoning upon associations of contiguity.” +I willingly grant to the scientist and the philosopher the liberty to +change the historical meaning of terms if the traditional usage is +not helpful in our dealings with the facts which they were invented to +describe. However, we must not change a term without good and sufficient +reasons. In the present case, I still prefer the traditional usage of the +terms “analytical” and “synthetic.”— + +Mr. Peirce takes the liberty of changing terms for himself, but he +resents it in others.— + +Mr. Peirce disapproves of the usage of the word “construction” in the +sense of systems of formal thought, such as the decimal system, etc., +etc. “Because,” he says, “the word is imperatively required in the +theory of cognition to denote a mathematical diagram framed according to +a general precept.” On the strength of this argument we might as well +disapprove of calling churches, mosques, houses, cottages, or any kind of +edifice, “building,” because the word “building” is imperatively required +to denote business-buildings.— + +Mr. Peirce says that according to my statement (in ¶ 163) “every element +of compulsion is to be excluded from the conception of necessity.” Having +never made such a statement, I looked up the passage, which is the last +but one paragraph in _The Monist_, Vol. III, No. 1, page 86, and find +that Mr. Peirce must have misread the sentence, “compulsion excludes +free will, and necessity does not,” which, of course, has an entirely +different meaning.— + +Mr. Peirce identifies evolution with real growth, regarding it as opposed +to the law of the conservation of energy. He regards everything as a +product of such growth, or _Erzeugung_, and adds, “I fancy it is this +cautious reflectiveness of my procedure which especially displeases Dr. +Carus.” Mr. Peirce does not use the word “bold.” He says, “cautious +reflectiveness.”— + +I did not say that causation is to be explained from the law of the +conservation of matter and energy. I said (_The Monist_, Vol. II, No. +4, p. 566) that the law of the conservation of matter and energy throws +light upon the problem of causation. The law of the conservation of +matter and energy and the law of causation describe the same thing under +two different aspects. If we understand the one, it will help us to +understand the other.— + +Kant’s chapter on the Architectonic of Pure Reason is well known to me, +but I think that Kant was possessed of a peculiar love of architectonic +which has contributed not a little to rendering the system of his +philosophy unnecessarily labyrinthine.— + +It is surprising to find a man whom I always regarded as a Kant scholar +of first degree saying that “Kant makes space a necessary form of +thought.” Now, as a matter of fact, Kant does not make space a form of +_thought_, but of _Anschauung_ or intuition. We cannot understand Kant +unless we understand this distinction.[139]— + +Kant conceives of causation as a necessary sequence. Mill, who objects to +the idea of necessity, replaces Kant’s words “universal” and “necessary” +by “invariable” and “unconditioned,” a substitution which was made with +the outspoken intention of radically changing the meaning of the phrase. +Mill’s terms are _not_ “more exact,” as Mr. Peirce says, but different. +They are worse than less exact to a Kantian, and can appear more exact +only to those who take Mill’s view, which is nominalistic. And this +substitution of Mill’s is regarded by realistic Mr. Peirce as a mere +“rewording of Kant’s definition”!— + +Mr. Peirce makes too much of the idea of “_Erzeugung_, which,” as he +correctly says, “is Kant’s word for the sequence of effect from cause.” +Yet Kant’s idea of _Erzeugung_ does not conflict with “the modern +mechanical doctrine.” Kant says in that very same chapter, “_Aller +Wechsel (Succession) der Erscheinungen ist nur Veränderung_,” i. e., “All +change (succession) of phenomena is only transformation.” (!) Does not +Mr. Peirce know that Kant calls every world-conception that stands in +contradiction to the mechanical principle “a philosophy of indolence,” or +“_faule Weltweisheit_”?— + +The same Kant who proposed a mechanical explanation of the evolution of +the starry heavens, objected very strongly to that kind of explanations +“which derive all order from chance”; and speaking of Epicurus’s +“absolute chance”(!) he adds: “Epicurus was even so reckless (_so +unverschämt_) as to demand that the atoms should deviate from their +straight course without any cause.” Mr. Peirce has either overlooked in +Kant these passages, or, if he has read them, he has never taken them to +heart.— + +Mr. Peirce objects to my statement that according to his philosophy the +domain of mind is characterised by absence of law. He argues: “Is not one +of my papers entitled ‘The Law of Mind?’” Yet this law of mind, he states +two lines further on, “requires its own violation.” (P. 552.)— + +The “sporting” of the primeval chance, Mr. Peirce says on page 552 +of this number, is “not undetermined and indeterminable,” because +“its ultimate result must be an entire elimination of chance from the +universe.” Shall we understand that the “arbitrary sporting” of the +primeval chaos, with which Mr. Peirce (according to _The Monist_, Vol. I, +No. 2, p. 175) begins his cosmogony, was determined? If absolute chance +is determined, why not call such a philosophy “determined Indeterminism”? +We try hard to understand Mr. Peirce, but sometimes we really have to +give it up.— + +Physiology teaches that memory alone changes feeling into consciousness, +but the consciousness of Mr. Peirce’s original Chance is without memory +and habit.— + +Chance, a being living and conscious, has, according to Mr. Peirce, +created the world, but the ultimate result of evolution must be an +entire elimination of Chance from the universe. Thus it appears that the +creation of the world is an act of divine suicide. The world-process is a +slow degeneration of God, finally ending in his complete annihilation. + + +RETROSPECT. + +In summing up the result of the whole battle, we find that there is not +a single question on which we have to yield or even modify our position. +Our position remains the same, while Mr. Peirce’s position has become +glaringly untenable. There is one point, however, in which justice +demands that we should recognise that he is right. I should not have +called Hamilton “Mr.,” but “Sir William.” I can, however, assure Mr. +Peirce that this mistake of mine (which in all my allusions to Hamilton +occurs only once) was a mere slip of the pen; it was not ignorance on my +part and still less was it any disregard of the rules of politeness. + +We are obliged to reject the favorite ideas of Mr. Peirce, and have only +to add that our esteem for him has not been lessened, in spite of all +disagreements, and notwithstanding the flaws we have detected in his +reasoning. On the contrary, our admiration for him as a dialectitian +has been greatly increased, for, in truth, we have never before seen +propositions so untenable in their nature, so odd and almost bizarre, as +those of “absolute chance,” of “matter as effete mind,” of “feeling as +being the inner aspect of chance,” and of “real growth as opposed to the +conservation of energy,” defended with greater adroitness. + +Mr. Peirce is unusually familiar with certain branches of learning, of +which he has made a specialty, and also with general philosophy; but he +has original ideas, and he prizes them too highly. Where he makes no use +of his originality, he does extraordinarily good Work. Thus, most of his +papers on logic, published in sundry magazines, are, in their critical +as well as constructive parts, strictly scientific and almost free from +apocryphal speculations. Only slight hints in them have been a puzzle to +me and other readers of his essays. Of late, however, Mr. Peirce has come +out more explicitly with his peculiar philosophy, and we regret to say +that the more he allows his original ideas to enter into his thoughts, +the more warped are his theories. + +While we regard Mr. Peirce’s original ideas as erroneous, we must +say that they are nevertheless highly interesting and stimulating. +His propositions are presented so vigorously, so attractively, so +brilliantly, that while perusing his articles, we find them remarkably +suggestive; we enjoy them as we do poetry. They read like a romance of +the origin of the world or a fairy-tale of metaphysics. + +Mr. Peirce’s views should receive the consideration of all earnest +students of philosophy; for he goes to the root of its main problems, and +his very errors are instructive. + + EDITOR. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[125] Kepler’s scheme is, that all the regular solids, icosahedron, +dodecahedron, octohedron, tetrahedron, and cube should be placed one +within the other at such distances that spheres could be described +between them so as to touch the corners of each respective interior and +the planes of each respective exterior solid. He found, by placing the +sun in the centre and allowing the planets to move in great circles on +the spheres, (making the circle between the icosahedron and dodecahedron +equal to the orbit of the earth,) that then the distances between the +planets would, upon the whole, agree with astronomical observations. + +This theory is as ingenious, as fascinating, and as original as Mr. +Peirce’s propositions. It has only one little fault; it does not agree +with facts. And Kepler afterwards abandoned his original theory. + +[126] Like Mr. Peirce, Kepler had, in his days, too, thought of the +possibility of making the world evolve from chance. When, in 1604, a new +and brilliant fixed star suddenly appeared in Ophiuchos, he took up the +problem of star-evolution. We will let Kepler tell the story in his own +words as it appears in his treatise on the new star: + +“Yesterday, while pondering over the problem, I was called to dinner, and +my young wife served the salad. ‘Do you think,’ I asked her, ‘if since +the origin of creation, pewter platters, salad leaves, oil and vinegar, +and also hard-boiled eggs had been flying in a chaotic mixture through +space that _Chance_ would have been able to collect them to-day in a +salad?’ ‘Certainly not in such a good mixture as this is,’ was the reply +of my beautiful wife.” + +Kepler rejected the idea that the world could have evolved by chance. + +[127] The philosophical articles of the _Century Dictionary_ do not +seem to be free of party spirit. An extraordinary amount of praise is +given to the mediæval realists which, considering the vagaries of their +propositions, they do not deserve. On the other hand, the blame for +the discredit into which scholasticism has fallen is heaped upon the +nominalists. + +[128] I said in _Fundamental Problems_, page 142, “The introduction of +the word positivism into philosophy is the merit of M. Auguste Comte. +Although we cannot accept much of M. Comte’s conception of positivism +we gratefully adopt the name.” There are plenty of other passages in +which my usage of the term positivism, as distinguished from the French +positivism, is set forth, so that there could be little danger of being +misunderstood. + +[129] My main objection to the term Absolute is to forestall any +hypostatising of a vague abstract notion which can only serve the purpose +of mystification. I suffer the term Absolute in a loose sense when it is +understood that it is used loosely. I do not say, as Mr. Peirce seems +to believe, “absolutely universal” or “absolutely necessary.” The words +universal and necessary are sufficiently significant to me without any +additional emphasis. + +Reality is relative throughout. Absolute existences are, if the term is +taken seriously, nonentities; and the expression “The Absolute” for the +whole of existence or for those features of existence which are universal +and necessary is, to say the least, misleading. These are my reasons for +rejecting the Absolute as a philosophical term. There is, of course, +no objection to the term in chemistry, physics, mathematics, and other +sciences, where it has acquired technical meanings. + +[130] Mr. Peirce correctly says that the axioms of geometry are now +exploded. This, however, does not overthrow the reliability of formal +mathematics; on the contrary, it places it on a safer basis than that of +unprovable assumptions, which must be taken for granted. + +We look upon the whole system of geometry as a _product of mental +operations_. We perform some operations and note what their products are. +We do something and mind the consequences of what we do. The problem +of modern geometry is to invent a method by which we can construct in +the simplest manner possible a straight line and a plane. Euclid still +presupposes the existence of the plane and assumes it to be such that +parallel lines do not meet. When we are able to construct the plane of +Euclidean geometry, we can dispense with the axiom of parallels, for, in +that case, the plane will possess the qualities it has by construction. +We can very well execute other constructions in which parallel lines +possess other qualities, and we shall on the basis of such an altered +plan of operation be able to produce entirely different systems of +geometry. + +We must distinguish between the space of our mathematicians and real +space. Experience teaches us that real space has three dimensions +which means that from a given point every other point is determinable +by three magnitudes. We might doubt (although I think there is little +occasion to do so) whether the real space of our experience is truly +three-dimensional, but we cannot doubt that the truths developed in the +one-dimensional system of numbers, in the two-dimensional system of plane +geometry, in the three-dimensional system of solid geometry, and also in +_n_-dimensional systems each in their respective domain are perfectly +reliable, for they are unequivocally determined, they are _eindeutig +bestimmt_. There is no application of the theory of probabilities in a +field where the products are not due to chance but result with certainty. + +[131] I wonder why the _Century Dictionary_ does not mention the +scholastic usage of the word _univocus_ as the root of univocal. +Similarly we are not told that the word _incompossibilitas_ is an +invention of the schoolmen. Duns Scotus, Mr. Peirce’s favorite +philosopher, uses the terms _univoce_ and _incompossibilitas_ freely. + +[132] We accept in this argument Mr. Peirce’s solutions, which, however, +are his own. A simpler example would have been more appropriate. + +[133] The belief in a duality of truth appears quite rational from the +dualistic standpoint of the middle ages, and the arguments of Scotus are +cleverly devised, being based upon the supposition that the fall of man +had changed the entire order of the world, so that the laws of nature +prior to the Fall were different to those which obtain now. + +[134] Duns Scotus was a very zealous advocate of ecclesiastical +supremacy, even advising, for instance, the prosecution of the Jews in +order to convert them. It is a strange irony of fate that the author of +the _Fons vitæ_, upon whose authority Scotus so largely depends and from +whom he derived some of his most important ideas was an Israelite. Scotus +did not know that Avicebron was a pseudonym of the Spanish Jew Salomon +ben Gebirol. + +[135] I omit here a discussion as to whether or not the conservation +of energy is true or not. I need not mention that the views of our +physicists, such men as Helmholtz, Mach, Maxwell, Tait, and others differ +widely from Mr. Peirce’s presentation of the subject. Mr. Peirce rejects +the law of the conservation of energy, but retains the conservation, +or (as he prefers to say) perduration of matter. I waive the question, +whether this is consistent, and call attention only to another, most +flagrant contradiction. Mr. Peirce states that, “not only the total +amount [of matter] remains constant, but all the different parts preserve +their identity”; and yet he says that “matter is effete mind.” Thus when +mind becomes effete, the amount of matter increases; however, when the +habits of matter are broken up, mind originates, and the amount of matter +decreases. This, it seems, would make any perduration of matter and of +the identity of its different parts impossible. + +[136] That my view of the _a priori_, as Mr. Peirce claims, is +“Schleiermacherian” is new to me. + +[137] It is a matter of course that frequently several events coöperate +to bring about an effect. In that case we have our choice, either to +speak of several causes, or to treat the coöperation of all of them as +_the_ cause, or to select one of them to be called the cause, while the +others may be counted among the conditions. + +The limitation of a system of causation depends entirely upon the purpose +of our inquiry, and we must here, as in many other things, use discretion. + +Mr. Peirce concludes, that according to my view of causation we can, +in a relatively uniform motion, such as the flight of a cannon ball, +regard the motion of every moment as the cause for the motion of the +next moment. I say “relatively,” for absolutely uniform motion does not +exist. I grant this, but I do not grant what Mr. Peirce regards as a +contradiction of mine, that in that case the cause would be equal to the +effect. A man who knows the artifices of the hair-splitting Eleates and +the other conundrums of logic, should know that every second of time is +different from every other second; 12 o’clock is different from 1 second +past 12. He who denies this, has only to miss a train in order to be +converted. And how much more different than the moments of time are the +various moments of real motion, for in every moment the moving body is in +another place, with changed relations; and if that does not constitute a +difference, we should have to deny the existence of motion. + +[138] See my article on “The Continuity of Evolution” in _The Monist_, +Vol. II, No 1; and also “Monism and Meliorism,” p. 73, where “the +struggle for the ideal” is contrasted with “the struggle for life.” + +[139] For details see, in _The Monist_, Vol. II, No. 4, page 518, et +seqq., and 527, et seqq., my articles, “Mr. Spencer on the Ethics of +Kant,” heading iv, and “What Does Anschauung Mean?” + +I now forgive Mr. Spencer; for if a Kant scholar like Mr. Peirce can +fall into this unpardonable mistake, why should not Mr. Spencer, whose +knowledge of Kant’s writings is, as he confesses himself, extremely +limited, have the same privilege? + + + + +THE FOUNDATIONS OF THEISM. + + +I. THE REALISM OF THEISM. + +It is commonly alleged that there is deeply seated in the human mind +a belief in the existence of a supreme being, and that the prevalence +of such belief is evidence that it has a basis in supernatural +revelation. It is urged in reply to this assertion, that this belief +is not universal, and that in any case its presence cannot be regarded +as satisfactory evidence that is well founded. It is known that the +disposition to worship is aroused by grand and beautiful objects; and as +Darwin well remarks in one of his letters, the natural sentiments of the +sublime and the beautiful easily assume a personal direction. Scientific +explanations, moreover, push a personal source of things ever further +from us, and it is becoming apparently more easy to doubt or deny any +such source whatever. + +Prevalent human instincts and intuitions are, however, the result of +experience imperfectly or perfectly digested, as the case may be. +In most instances they yield to analysis something of value. A more +plausible explanation of the theistic instinct is the anthropomorphic +one. Man knows that he originates many movements, both of his own body +and of other material things, and he knows of no other real source of +such movements. He therefore, in his primitive state, before scientific +explanations are attained, naturally refers motions in nature to an +original personal source. This, it may be supposed, is the natural habit +of the unsophisticated mind, and is at the bottom of theistic belief, +whether as unexplained in consciousness, and therefore an instinct, or +as a distinctly formulated belief. The phenomena of nature must have +originated somehow, and there is no other conceivable source of motion +than a personal one. + +Facts developed by scientific research tend to weaken this +anthropomorphism. The indestructibility of matter means that it has never +been created. The conservation of energy states that matter has always +been in motion. The law of organic evolution is supposed to do away with +the necessity for creative intervention in the origination of plants +and animals. Finally, the observed facts of the evolution of mind show +that this, the light of the world, grew like the organic beings which +it inhabits. Nothing higher than man has been found, and there seems to +be no ground for suspecting the existence of any higher mind. And man +himself dies and undergoes dissolution, like other organic bodies. The +result of this use of the facts of science is agnosticism, at least. We +know of nothing beyond what they teach, and some agnostics go so far as +to say, “ignorabimus,” we shall never know. Agnostics, however, have +their faces set in different directions. Some rest in it as a relief +from mental toil, as persons more theologically inclined join a church. +Others, believers in the progressive evolution of knowledge as of other +phenomena, set themselves to explore the unknown country, believing that +our opportunities in this direction are practically unlimited. + +Let us look again at this anthropomorphism which is so deeply seated and +so widely spread. Its essence is the fact that we control our own bodies +in a great degree and that our material organs obey the behests of our +mind. We do things for, to us, satisfactory reasons, and for satisfactory +reasons we leave many things undone, which we could readily do. What has +science done towards explaining this most ordinary phenomenon? We may +truthfully say, absolutely nothing. It remains a fact that a majority, if +not all animals, move their bodies in their entirety or in part, because +they have sensations. In the lower animals these sensations are merely +either sense-impressions from without, or they are from within, being +produced by their physical condition. We rise but little in the scale, +when effects of memory are evident, for we find that many actions are +due to experience of the result of former actions. With still higher +development, mental organisation becomes more apparent, and the reasoning +and emotional states have more and more distinct outcome in intelligent +acts. But the mechanism by which the act is called forth by the mental +state, has never been explained. + +The difficulty lies here. A sensation, or a state of mind, weighs +nothing. A material body, let it be a cell or a mass of cells, as a +muscle, weighs something. How then can the former move the latter? From a +mechanical point of view, it cannot be done. For that which has no weight +to set in motion anything which has weight, is to violate the law of the +conservation and correlation of energy. And this law is not only an _a +priori_ necessity, but it has been demonstrated _a posteriori_ in so many +cases that exceptions cannot be thought of. So a school of physiologists +say that _it is not done_. No animal eats because it is hungry, or drinks +because it is thirsty. The man does not direct the muscle of his arm when +he writes, nor those of his tongue when he speaks. But it is easy to see +why such a school of physiologists includes but an infinitesimal part of +mankind. + +There is a school of evolutionists who account for the whole matter +in harmony with the views of the physiologists above mentioned. I +refer to the Post-Darwinians, who account for evolution by natural +selection exclusively. That is, animals originally moved aimlessly +in all directions. Those whose movements were beneficial to them, +survived, while those whose movements were not beneficial, or which were +injurious, perished. As frequent motions in a given direction lead to +habits, so were inaugurated movements which were habitually beneficial +to the actors, which have therefore persisted and multiplied. Thus were +established the multifarious habits of animals and men. Consciousness had +nothing to do with the process. It merely acted the part of the onlooker, +being simply aware of what went on. “Like the locomotive whistle,” says +Huxley, “it made considerable noise, but did none of the work.” + +To a person familiar with the facts of the evolution of the structures of +animals, this seems like a most inadequate theory. It is a commonplace +that no kind of selection, either artificial or natural, ever originated +anything. Selection simply selects between existing alternatives. The +fundamental question of evolution is, What is the origin of things? +What is the fate of things originated? is a secondary question. To +this first question the Post-Darwinian reply must be, that everything +possible has originated no one knows yet how, so that what has survived +was necessarily to be found in this _embarras de richesse_. This is an +enormous assumption, and one to which the history of the life of past +and present ages lends no support. No such multifarious and promiscuous +variation is known to have occurred in living or in extinct organic +beings. But if the variations have not been infinite, then the chance of +the existing one having been hit upon becomes greatly reduced, and the +chance of its having occurred at the same time in individuals of opposite +sex is still smaller. Finally, the chance of its not being immediately +bred out by the overwhelming numbers of individuals not possessing it, is +indeed infinitesimal. In fact, it is evident that variations of structure +must have appeared in numbers of individuals of a species at the same +time, in order to secure survival. This indicates a common cause of +general application. That such causes have existed and been effective +at all periods of past and present time is amply proved by the facts +of geology and paleontology. The most influential in effecting change +of form and structure has been the motion of the body and of its parts +necessary to secure its food, to defend or protect itself from dangers, +and to reproduce its kind. The direct mechanical effects of these motions +on all the materials of the body may be traced in the successive stages +of the forms of past ages to those of the present time. + +The objections above made to the theory of multifarious variation of +organic forms, apply with equal force to the theory of multifarious +movements of organic beings as furnishing the source of intelligent +habits. An additional and especial objection to the latter hypothesis +is the fact that it does not recognise the well-known adaptability of +animals to new situations and circumstances. If the events of life were +a routine moving with mathematical precision, the theory of origin from +multifarious variations would have a better foundation; but this is not +the case. Food, friends, and enemies do not appear in stated periods, +quantities, or qualities. Emergencies are common, and variation of +circumstance is the rule. Without sensation, uniform habits would but +lead to destruction. Everything which should not be presented in the +habitual form and at the habitual time would be neglected. Food and +drink would be refused, or not obtained; defense and reproduction would +not be attempted under the proper conditions. In fact, the conduct of +living beings would be no more intelligent than that of inorganic matter +in motion, were sensation to have no share in the process. But as soon +as we believe that the habits of animals are due to hunger, thirst, +and the perception of temperature, resistance, etc., their acts become +intelligible, and the formation of habits becomes a necessary consequence +of memory or the faculty of subsequent recognition of sensations +experienced at a previous time. + +It is, in this connection, of great interest to recall the diverse +effects on our mental history of sense-impressions, as compared with +the effect of thought. Sense-impressions are not remembered in the +proper sense of the term. The repetition in memory is always vastly more +indistinct than the original state of consciousness; so much so as to be +a very different thing. Thought, on the contrary, when remembered at all, +is an exact repetition in quality of its first presence. The presentative +consciousness has one quality; the representative and re-representative +have another quality. This shows us that the structural arrangement +of brain substance concerned in the latter forms of consciousness +have a far more permanent quality than that due to the former. They +thus constitute more permanent acquisitions, and this being the case, +must have a most important bearing on evolution.[140] This is because +it is a representative state which determines action. The process of +determination may become so rapid as to be almost instantaneous; but +it had to be learned and the representation was what gave the act its +character and which organised the machinery of the automatic or reflex +act. + +I here refer to the low degrees of consciousness sometimes called +subconsciousness, and the expression, “the subliminal consciousness,” +introduced by F. Meyer. All shades of consciousness intervene between +the most distinct forms and the unconsciousness of the reflex state. +Intelligent subconsciousness is a low stage in this evanescent +series. Stages on the passage to and from sleep, and other forms of +unconsciousness due to physical causes, are properly termed subconscious. +There are reflexes which are due to mechanisms which we inherit from +our animal and human ancestors, which are sometimes accompanied by +consciousness. The amount of intelligence displayed will depend on +the function involved. Experiments on vertebrate animals show that +intelligent adaptation of the movements of the body have been transferred +forwards in the brain during the course of evolution. Thus, a fish which +retains the medulla only, will guide itself through the water so as +to avoid danger. If the cerebellum and thalami are left to a reptile, +it will avoid destructive acts. But if a mammal is deprived of its +hemispheres, its actions are without design, and it is incapable of +self-preservation. + +It may be that in the temporary absence of the higher consciousness, +the lower forms which once existed in our ancestors may be revived, as +in some of the elements of our dreams, and in some forms of cerebral +disease, when much of the blood is withdrawn from the cortex or parts +of it. The amount of consciousness necessary to the performance of +intelligent acts depends on the novelty of the situation. Many of the +theories on this subject, however, take it for granted that intelligent +acts arise in primarily unconscious states. This is only credible on the +supposition that such acts have arisen by natural selection only, a view +which I have combated on a previous page. Some authors use expressions +which can only imply unconscious consciousness. This is of course +absurd and self-contradictory. No source but sensation can be found for +intelligent acts. + +It is true that there are some movements of organic bodies which have an +intelligent appearance, to which we cannot ascribe consciousness. Such +are those of the spermatozoöids and of the leucocytes. Some of the lowest +animals and plants cannot be yet proved to be conscious. We cannot now +explain the nature of the movements which these forms exhibit, but they +will probably yield to research. Enough it is for our present purpose +to know that the majority of animals are conscious for a large part +of their lives. And we have abundant evidence to show that movements +inaugurated in conscious states may be performed, so soon as learned, in +unconsciousness, and become part of the mental furniture of the animal. + +It seems, then, that the control of ponderable matter by mental states +is not the exclusive prerogative of man, but is a phenomenon of common +observation in the animal kingdom. The facts indicate that it is +characteristic of mind to move resistant and tri-dimensional matter +under suitable conditions. These conditions are rigid, but within the +limits which they define, the sequence is definite. It is difficult +to believe in anything which is in direct violation of mechanical +necessity, and a mere hypothesis to that effect would not deserve a +moment’s consideration. But the belief that the body, or parts of it, are +moved in direct obedience to mental states is founded on more numerous +observations than are most of those beliefs which we hold to be true. In +fact there is no scientific doctrine better supported by observation and +experience than this one. On this ground alone, then, we are compelled +to believe in something in the universe which is supermechanical, or +extramechanical. We may call this supernaturalism, or occultism, or +what we like, but the fact remains. We have in it the germ of theism, +anthropomorphic, if you will, but one which grows in importance as we +come to examine further into the characteristics of mental action. + +Before going into this part of the subject, I will refer to the part +played by mind in evolution. From what has gone before, it is evident +that this part has been an important one. If structures are produced by +motions, it is clear that habits produce structures, and _vice versa_; +and that under the law of natural selection only the useful and harmless +ones have survived. It follows, then, that progressive evolution of +form is secured by the presence of consciousness, and must, sooner or +later, fail without it. With development of intelligence the progress +must become more continuous and rapid. The facts of paleontology confirm +such a hypothesis; since the more intelligent animals (Mammalia) have +generally supplanted the less intelligent, (Reptilia and Batrachia), +whenever brought into conflict with them. The supremacy of the +intelligent over the unintelligent Mammalia is also clearly shown by +research into their past history. The modification of type, or evolution, +has also become more and more rapid as time has advanced and intelligence +developed. + +There is another reason why the intervention of supermechanics into +the process has been necessary to secure such results as we observe in +the evolution of life. The law of inorganic evolution is, as Spencer +epitomises it, “the integration of matter and the dissipation of +energy.” Natural chemical reactions when not interfered with by human +intelligence, produce solids and give out heat. In other words, they +result in death and not in life. To produce life something different from +chemical energy has been necessary. And as the case is a parallel one +to the evolution of the types of life, we may suspect that the agency +at work has been a related one. It is some form of energy of the vital +class which is able to overcome the bonds which hold dead matter in +their adamantine grasp; and it is evident that such an energy could have +been organised only in some region where mechanics of a superchemical +order prevail. If we take a large view of the universe the alternatives +of life and death present themselves clearly before us. The law of the +latter is the integration of matter and dissipation of energy. The law of +the former is the converse; the loosing of the bonds of matter, and the +production of mechanism for the raising of the type of energy. The first +is catagenesis, the latter is anagenesis. The end of catagenesis is the +extinction of all mind and all life. Anagenesis sustains both. The best +foundation for our belief in anagenesis is that it exists. Catagenesis +has not destroyed it, and this fact must lead us to suspect that it is +the product of an agency which is superchemical; and the only such that +we know is consciousness. + +In the presence of such a far-reaching hypothesis we are called upon to +consider more particularly the relations of mind to its physical basis. +The essential condition of the existence of mind as we know it, is +metabolism. The substance[141] of the nervous cells must be in a state +of decomposition and recomposition; old material loosing its chemical +bonds and giving forth energy, and new material arriving to undergo +the same process. The energy thus produced displays the phenomena of +mind, and as such differs widely from the inorganic energies of heat, +light, etc. The extent to which it displays habits depends on the part +of the nervous structure where it is produced. In the spinal cord it is +strictly automatic, and as we approach the hemispheres the so-called +voluntary element becomes more apparent, until a region is reached where +conception, deliberation, and judgment have their seat. In this region +energy is purely mental in its attributes, and it unlocks the executive +mechanism of the body, and puts it in action in accordance with the needs +of consciousness. So far, mechanical laws explain the order of events. +The supermechanical resides in the mental content and its effects on the +outgoing energy. No quantitative relation can be shown to exist between +the results of the mental processes of classification, conception, +judgment, etc, and the amount of incoming or outgoing energy. Indeed it +is plain that none can exist, if the statement already made be true, +viz., that thoughts are without weight. This part of the subject requires +critical treatment, but the general result is included in the above +statement, which is sufficient for our present purpose. + +Since consciousness possesses such extraordinary relations to matter we +may well suspect that it has a wider distribution than comes within the +purview of our present limited ken. Why should it not protect and nourish +itself under conditions different from those which prevail in our planet? +The one condition necessary to it is metabolism—which means free energy. +The kind of physical basis cannot be important, provided it be capable +of exhibiting this kind of non-automatic energy. Automatism and all its +reflex consequences are the death of consciousness, as every one knows. +From such a type of energy all the fixed types of energy must have been +derived, and with them the types of both mental and physical structures. +In its freest form it should have as a physical basis a form of matter +which should be without habits, but always ready to undergo a catagenetic +change into routine energy and ultimate unconsciousness. Such a medium +should be unspecialised matter, and the consciousness inhabiting it would +be a creator. Such consciousness would be readily transmitted wherever +the physical basis should be suitable, and one such substance is our +protoplasm. The probable inferiority of protoplasm as a physical basis +is indicated by the long and tedious education which has been necessary +to enable beings made of it to attain a high order of intelligence. In +such a basis anagenesis is slow, and catagenesis is easy. Other bases +might be imagined where the reverse would be the case. No assumption +can be made as to a constant and limited amount of consciousness in the +universe. That such is the case is supposable; but it is also supposable +that the amount of suitable physical basis may be increased by a process +of assimilation of non-conscious matter, as is done by animals in +digestion and reproduction. This process might continue until all matter +should be brought into that generalised condition which is necessary +to the continuance of consciousness. The entire universe would then +be conscious, and a maximum limit would be reached. In the primitive +consciousness, whatever its extent in space in the Universe, we have the +Supreme Being or Person. + + +II. THE IDEALISM OF THEISM. + +What I mean by the above expression is the theism which is supposed +to be demonstrated by idealistic metaphysics. There are two forms of +this alleged demonstration, both of which have for their starting-point +the basis of the idealistic philosophy. This basis is the fact that we +know nothing of matter excepting as sense-impressions. From this it is +inferred that were conscious beings to become extinct, matter would +no longer exist. It is also a consequence of this belief that what we +observe of the conduct of matter, which we call by the name of natural +law, is of purely mental origin. + +If now the universe consist wholly of mind, the totality of it, either +as reduced to a body of general laws, or to a single comprehensive +generalisation, or concept, is one form of idealistic God. The other +demonstration is as follows. Since matter exists as mental states, and +since these mental states are common to mankind, who are mortal; since +these mental states reproduce themselves from generation to generation, +it is inferred that a permanent mental state exists, which possesses the +permanent sensations we call matter. And this common mind of humanity is +God. + +The difference between these deities is this. In the first case he is an +abstraction of the human mind and therefore not a person apart from such +men as are capable of the generalisations of which he consists. In the +second case he is a person apart from humanity. The validity of either +demonstration to the thinker depends on his point of view. To every one +but the idealist, the first proposition is atheism. The evidence for the +second is metaphysical anthropomorphism, and would be a demonstration, +were the theory of idealism well founded. + +The fact that we only know matter as sense-impressions does not, in +the opinion of realists, prove that it does not exist as the resistant +and extended. Resistance of each part to the movements of other parts +(energy), and extension in space, are conditions about which we have a +great deal of information. Our lives are spent in overcoming the one, and +in getting round the other. Our methods of dealing with it represent the +antithesis of those employed in thought-processes. The latter are best +performed in the absence of the muscular exertion which is so necessary +in dealing with the former. I have referred to the well-known difference +in consciousness between sense-impressions and the representation and +re-representation of them. The difference certainly implies a difference +in the immediate sources of the respective kinds of consciousness. The +one is produced by something different from that which produces the +other. In short, the one is produced by the contact of matter external +to our physical basis, and the other is produced by a modification of +brain-structure; and in the first place by that simplest form of it +which is the cause of memory. The effect of such observation is the +conviction that matter exists as something outside of consciousness or +mind, in spite of the fact that we only know it in consciousness. In a +word, consciousness and knowledge imply the existence rather than the +non-existence of something which is known. + +The fundamental actualities are, then, subject and object; or, in popular +language, mind and matter. Philosophy includes the sciences which embrace +the knowledge of both subject and object; but the practical philosophy +is the science of the mutual relations of the two. It may be said that +subject and object are opposite sides of the same reality, but this form +of expression appears to me to be no more accurate than the statement +that energy and matter are opposite sides of the same thing. As energy +is the motion of matter, mind is the intelligence of matter; and both +may be called properties of matter with equal propriety, since both are +impossible without a physical basis. Mind, however, differs from energy +in possessing some intrinsic qualities which are in essence independent +of the qualities of the physical basis; and these intrinsic qualities +are the forms of logic. These are, however, but a part of the totality +of mind, although they underlie or penetrate all its representative +activities. + +While mind then cannot exist without a physical basis, it remains to +be considered whether any other objective world is necessary to its +existence. It is sometimes alleged that consciousness could not exist +without an objective, exterior to its physical basis. If, however, +consciousness is a necessary attribute of free energy, the latter purely +metaphysical speculation has no foundation. The “intuition of Being” +(Rosmini) would exist, albeit not much specialised, in the absence of +multifarious objects; but the forms of logic would characterise it +nevertheless. + +It is alleged that we can never know matter as it is, because our +observation is restricted to the mutual relations of its component +parts. In this assertion our intelligence necessarily concurs, but this +need not cause us to relax our exertions in the pursuit of knowledge. +The practical philosophy is, as already remarked, the knowledge of the +relations subsisting between mind and matter, so that our most valuable +acquisition will be in the end the laws of a relation. We may well +postpone our endeavors after the absolute, even if we can ever attain a +knowledge of it. The realist is content to believe that if we do not know +“things as they are in themselves,” it is because, of the imperfection of +our senses. But we are constantly discovering new aids to research, and +we can put no limit to our power in this direction. + +The research into the relations of subject and object, means to theology, +an investigation as to the existence and nature of Deity, and as to an +existence for conscious beings in other than terrestrial life. The pure +idealist reaches an affirmative answer to these problems by a short and +easy route, based on a study of the intrinsic nature of mind alone. The +pure realist reaches a negative conclusion by an equally short cut, by +considering the properties of matter alone. Not a few thinkers entertain +both doctrines at one and the same time, although they are mutually +exclusive and contradictory. No wonder that they reach what Montgomery +well terms “the puzzle of puzzles.” But the rational conclusion from this +deadlock must be, that there is something wrong with the methods of both +sides. To the practical mind it seems that the vice in both methods is +the failure to harmonise properly with their own, the facts adduced by +the opposite side in the discussion. And it is indeed evident that that +cannot be the final philosophy which restricts itself to a consideration +of mind alone; or that which restricts itself to a consideration of +matter alone. That men should pursue different lines of research is +natural. Those whose minds are capable in the fields of conception +naturally prefer idealistic studies; while those whose especial genius +lies in the direction of mechanics, easily pursue-materialistic research. +What is needed is a combination of the two fields of ability in the same +mind. + +A considerable class of serious people, observing the diversities between +the schools of philosophy, regard such studies as useless. Since they +have not the disposition or ability to solve the question for themselves, +they find it best to rest in uncertainty, which has optimistic or +pessimistic tendencies according to temperament and education. The +optimist has faith that all is, and all will be, well; while the +pessimist takes the opposite view. Both are sustained in their position +by those teachers who teach the impotence of our faculties and the +uselessness of knowledge. Such appeal in support of their position to the +facts already cited; the imperfection of our senses; the relativity of +knowledge; the inscrutable nature of mind and matter, etc. This position +is, however, a plea of avoidance, and it will be time enough to listen to +it when the avenues of the increase of human knowledge are permanently +closed. This they are not at present. + +The key to the position is the doctrine of evolution. Here we behold +the interaction of subject and object, both in our own persons and in +the inferior beings which are with us, and which have preceded us on +earth. That mind has not sprung full-fledged upon this planet, is clear; +and that it has made wonderful progress in power, is equally clear. Why +did it not appear with all its powers “in the beginning”? The answer +obviously is, “the intractability of matter.” Why has it progressed in +face of this obstacle? The answer is, the tractability of matter. Mind, +through its intrinsic quality, has coërced matter, in ever increasing +degree, and the limit of its capacity in this direction plainly has not +yet been reached. Its most important conquest has been that of its own +physical basis, and next to it is the conquest of the world of objects by +which it is surrounded. Its last conquest will be the knowledge of its +destiny, as a projection of its known past. To this end the knowledge +of its own constitution is essential, but this is not all, as the pure +idealist would have us believe. The knowledge of external relations is +also essential, for we can in no state of being escape them. Psychic life +is an “internal adjustment to external relations,” quite as much as is +the physical life, as it is defined by Spencer in the phrase just quoted. + +The Deity of evolution indicated in the first section of this paper, +will not satisfy the pure idealist. He is not an absolute, since He +is compelled to respect relations. But we find Him to be just, which +he evidently is not if absolute. He is anthropomorphic, and not an +abstraction of the human mind. And yet as the seat of rationality, and +as the director of free energy, He possesses the function of creator +of whatever is possible. The evolution of independent human minds has +been only possible through education, and here as elsewhere, teachable +students have met with greater success than the stolid. + +It has been already pointed out that the process of evolution may be +either progressive (Anagenesis) or retrogressive (Catagenesis). This is +well known to be the case with organic types, where degenerate phyla are +common. It seems, indeed, that in the order of things degeneracy has +occurred wherever it has been possible; that is, under circumstances +which permitted vegetative life through lack of stimuli to energetic +motion. There has always been “room at the top”; but only when all +the lower fields of existence have been for the time being filled, +has there been room at the top only. The history of mental evolution +has accompanied that of general structural evolution, and for similar +reasons. It is well illustrated in human society to-day. These facts +suggest that this has been the history of all evolution, since they +harmonise with the order of evolution observed in our solar system, in +which the inorganic has preceded the organic, or Catagenesis has preceded +Anagenesis. If the forms of non-vital energy represent a result of +Catagenesis, we are not bound to look on minerals as in any sense living, +as has been suggested by Haeckel and others. Most, if not all, forms +of chemical energy have sunk below the vital level, and certainly far +below the possibility of displaying consciousness. We are here looking +over unexplored territory, and one whose elucidation is entirely in the +future, but we may put our ideas in order, if we do nothing more. + +Besides his relations to the impersonal materials that surround him, man +has essential relations to his fellow-man. The laws of these relations +are ethics. Much is written and spoken against the utilitarian or +evolutionary theory of ethics. I cannot, however, escape the conviction +that this theory offers the true explanation of the rise of the ethical +sentiment in mankind. But to understand it aright, we must include +the growth of the social sentiment, as well as that of the rational +element, in the evolution of justice or right. The opponents of this view +sometimes commit the error common to all those who do not understand the +nature of mental evolution. Some of them imagine that it is necessary to +suppose that, in harmony with this theory, every man decides his every +act solely in accordance with what appears to him at the time to subserve +the lowest form of selfishness of which he is capable. The doctrine, +on the contrary, maintains that habits of honesty and justice are the +result of the education of the ages, and that men obey such motives +according to their developmental status; that is, in accordance with the +evolution of the habit of preferring the higher to the lower forms of +utility. The further question of what it is that has raised the standard +of utility, is answered by what we see going on around us. The fear of +the law; the love of the approbation of our fellows; the sympathy with +our fellow-men; the fear of their indignation; all these are educators of +great potency, which have always been active. These motives, organised as +character, are compulsory, and it would be strange if they have not been +effective in producing results. + +Practical ethics has to do with material beings and their material +possessions, i. e. with person and property. Without the objective, +the content of ethics is purely ideal, consisting of love and hate, +and the justice and injustice of opinion which might be the outcome of +those sentiments. These sentiments are realities of the subjective, +representing the affections, as the form of thought constitutes the +rational faculties. But if we endeavor in thought to deprive love +and hate, justice and injustice, of all material consequences and +implications, we deprive those sentiments of much of their value if we +do not abolish their occasions altogether. It appears to me at least +doubtful whether hate and injustice could exist in a society consisting +of disembodied minds, if such beings could be imagined; a supposition +which I cannot entertain. + +If ethics cannot exist without material expression, it is clear that, +on the other hand, they cannot exist without a subjective foundation. +Thus ethics is the highest expression of the relation between mind and +matter. Ethics is the practical application of the mental powers to +human relations, and the more complete the evolution of mind, the more +perfect is the ethical practice. Thus the evolution of the mind is the +guarantee of ethical progress, and the more intelligent the mind, the +more easy will the evolution be. As in all education, the laggards +experience the severities of compulsion, while pains and penalties are +avoided by those who perceive their approach and do not await their +arrival. Here we have the utilitarian ground of our numerous ethical +and religious organisations. They invite men to _a priori_ subjective +theory, and objective practice, so as to preserve society from the evils +of inferior and painful methods of compulsion, which lie at the basis of +ethical evolution. It is the dread of this method which rouses a natural +repugnance in the minds of many men to the doctrine which teaches of it. +But it must be remembered that the instruments of evolution change with +the thing that is evolving, and the conditions of progressive ethics are +the stages of progress of the mind. What is necessary for the education +of the lower mind is no longer necessary for the higher. This is not only +a truth of philosophy, but the fact may be discerned in the religions +which men have made for themselves. They describe the ethical state of +their authors, and prescribe the treatment appropriate to it. + +Our knowledge of some parts of evolutionary history is meagre, and on +some of its chapters we are absolutely in the dark. This is especially +true of the causes of the appearance of life and consciousness on the +earth. Spontaneous generation has not been proven, and the immediate +source of sensation is unknown. The conclusions enumerated in the +preceding pages are derived from evidence presented in more or less +complete fragments. But the thesis remains true that mind possesses a +limited control over its physical basis, but one which is sufficient to +account for the main direction of the evolution of those organic forms +which possess it. And it is also true that the essential forms of the +rational mind are not due to corresponding qualities of the physical +basis. These forms are: the principles of identity, of abstraction, and +of generalisation or conception. These characteristics constitute the +idealistic essence of Theism. But we look to the realistic element of +Theism for the demonstration of the distinct personality of God. + + E. D. COPE. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[140] _Proceedings of the American Philosophical Society_, 1889, p. 495 + +[141] Recent experiments conducted in the laboratory of the Johns Hopkins +University show that the cytoplasm of cells, which are exhausted by +labor, is vacuolated. + + + + +LITERARY CORRESPONDENCE. + + + + +GERMANY. + + +The name of Cesare Lombroso is now more and more mentioned in Germany, +not only in psychiatrical, juridical, and sociological works, written +for the learned public, but also in the newspapers and magazines. By the +side of occasional recognition of his doctrine of the born criminal and +genius, we meet—and these are the majority of the cases—with violent +attacks on it, which not seldom exhibit real ignorance of the views of +the celebrated Italian investigator. Lombroso himself is partly to blame +for this unfortunate circumstance, for his writings, with their mountains +of undigested material, are so lacking in unity and perspicuity that +misconceptions are very apt to arise. + +The German translator of Lombroso, DR. H. KURELLA, psychiatrist in +Kreuzburg, in Silesia, has recently given to the world a synoptical +exposition of Lombroso’s theory of the born criminal, under the title +_Cesare Lombroso und die Naturgeschichte des Verbrechers_, Hamburg, 1892, +Richter. The author not only expounds the doctrines of Lombroso, but also +deals critically with them, and, although upon the whole his sympathies +are with the views of the Italian scientist, he nevertheless believes +that the existence of a fixed type of the _delinquente nato_, embracing +all special forms of criminality, is yet a question of doubt. On the +other hand, MAX NORDAU, a widely-read author of ours, gives unqualified +recognition to the theories of Lombroso, fully accepting the idea of +“degeneration,” first introduced by Morel into science and further +developed by Lombroso, and, in completion of the work of his master, +extending this idea to art and literature. In his work, _Entartung_, the +first volume of which was recently published by Carl Duncker, of Berlin, +and is dedicated to Lombroso, “his dear, admired master,” he says: +“Degenerate types are not always criminals, prostitutes, anarchists, and +idiots. They are often writers and artists, and these exhibit the same +mental, and frequently also the same physical, traits as those members of +the same anthropological family that satisfy their diseased instincts by +means of the murderer’s knife or the cartridge of the dynamitard, instead +of with pen and pencil.” + +People who are acquainted with Nordau’s previous works will perhaps +imagine that this latest book of his is simply a mass of journalistic +ebullitions which can lay no claim to _scientific_ value. This, however, +is wrong. Nordau is not only well acquainted with the patho-psychological +literature of this province—especially with the French—but he also +turns his knowledge to scientific account, which psychiatrists like +Pelman and others have publicly admitted. Taking it as a whole, Nordau +has presented in this first volume of his work a good psychology of +mysticism—good, that is, for all who accept the association psychology. +Nordau’s expositions embrace all the psychological theories which belong +in this province, with their applications to individuals and to the +tendencies of modern literature and art. With respect to the first point, +the author is right in saying that he does not offer here anything new +to the professional psychologist, but he is wrong in his theory that +psychologists will read this chapter with impatience, for his exposition +is unquestioniably elegantly written. Of much greater interest is the +second part, in which a diagnosis of imbecility is rendered upon the +English pre-Raphaelites, the French symbolists, the Tolstois, and +Richard Wagners. The chapter on Richard Wagner will especially attract +attention for its severity. Nordau closes it with the words, “of all the +aberrations of the present time, Wagnerism is the most widely diffused +and the most important. The playhouse at Bayreuth, the _Bayreuther +Blätter_, the Parisian _Revue Wagnerienne_, are lasting monuments by +which the future will measure in wonderment the dimensions of this +degeneration and hysteria of our day.” + +Nordau throws light upon numerous mooted phenomena of modern art and +literature, pointing out their diseased features. One is really surprised +at the extent of his work. All in all, it may be foreseen that Koch’s +doctrine of the “psychopathical minor factors”—or those psychical factors +which constitute the border-line between mental health and disease—will +clear up much more extensive fields than they have, when applied in the +direction indicated by Nordau. KOCH has now published the third part of +his work, (which I have repeatedly mentioned in _The Monist_) and thus +completed it. He concludes his last volume with these words: “The domain +of the ‘psychopathical minor factors’ is a wide and very interesting one. +Whosoever enters profoundly into it will learn to look at much in life +with different eyes from those with which he began, will understand many +men and many human acts, which before he did not understand. There are +yet many scientific treasures to be unearthed in this field, and I hope +that I shall win many a coadjutor. I hope, also, that qualified men will +make this theory of the psychopathical minor factors fruitful in wider +fields and for greater problems.” + +It is a common belief that it is pre-eminently in our time that psychical +disorders and psychical minor factors play so great a rôle. But that in +the sense of Nordau they are not of so recent origin a careful reader +will learn from a new work of LUDWIG GEIGER, the well-known historian +of literature and civilisation (Paetel, Berlin). Its title is: _Berlin, +1688-1840: Geschichte des geistigen Lebens der preussischen Hauptstadt_. +As yet, only the first volume has appeared, which extends to the death of +Frederick the Great. The reader, however, would obtain an entirely wrong +impression of the work if he were to believe that psychiatrical points +of view are expressly dwelt upon in this book. To find them he must read +between the lines. The book is an extraordinarily painstaking history of +the civilisation of Berlin, taken from the sources, and giving especial +prominence to intellectual factors. We shall reserve the detailed +discussion of this important work for another occasion, perhaps until it +is fully completed. + + CHRISTIAN UFER. + + + + +BOOK REVIEWS. + + +HAND-COMMENTAR ZUM NEUEN TESTAMENT. IV. EVANGELIUM, BRIEFL UND +OFFENBARUNG DES JOHANNES. Bearbeitet von _H. J. Holtzmann_. Zweite +verbesserte und vermehrte Auflage. (Freiburg I. B. and Leipsic: 1893. J. +C. B. Mohr.) + +The fourth gospel, of all the sacred writings of the New Testament, has +always been the reviewer’s favorite book. Its profundity, its wealth of +philosophical ideas, the fervor of its author’s religious sentiment, +and the spiritual grace that pervades the whole book, exercised an +unspeakable charm on my mind. This gospel was the first to rouse my +doubts in the belief of literal inspiration, and it was again the one, +which, after the severest storms of infidelity had blown over, reconciled +me to the spirit of Christianity. Thus the perusal of Professor +Holtzmann’s commentary again arouses the recollections of former +struggles, and I find that even to-day the first chapter of the fourth +gospel has lost none of its fascination. It is a wonderful book, and its +author is a man whom I always longed to meet and shake hands with, over +a span of almost two millenniums and a world-wide abyss of difference of +opinion. + +Only those who are familiar with the difficulties of the St. John +literature of the New Testament can really appreciate this latest work +of Prof. H. J. Holtzmann. He presents in a most clear and concise manner +the problems involved, together with their various solutions, critically +arranged. He carefully avoids obtruding on the reader his own views. +He stands before us as a faithful compiler only. I say “only,” but +this “only” means a great deal. It does not mean that he suppresses or +conceals his own views, it means that he states the facts with scrupulous +impartiality. If there is any partiality apparent in his treatment of +the sacred writings, it is the reverent attitude he preserves whenever +love of truth obliges him to accept the negative result of critical +investigations. And where is there a theological scholar to-day, who +is orthodox enough to dare to accept the theory that the gospel of St. +John was written by the apostle? Holtzmann carries his impartiality +to the extent of not rejecting this old traditional idea, concerning +the authorship of the fourth gospel, but the evidence against it is +overwhelmingly sufficient to satisfy the most narrowminded believer. +Holtzmann teaches us at the same time to understand the spirit of +the first and second century of our era, and thus excludes from the +beginning the old prejudice, that if the author were not the man whom +he impersonated his work must be regarded as a fraud. The historical +value of the book lies in the revelations it gives us concerning the +religious demands of the times in which it was written. The fourth +gospel originated when the Jewish religiosity of growing Christianity +began to expand into cosmic universality. The author was undoubtedly a +Jew-Christian, whose home most likely was Ephesus. Ephesus was the place +where we find the first beginnings of Christian Alexandrianism. Here the +Logos-idea was introduced into Christian thought. Philo, the Alexandrian +Jew, had already represented Moses as the incarnation of the divine +Logos. Should not now a Christian familiar with Philo’s philosophy apply +the same method to Jesus of Nazareth? Some work adapted to satisfy the +wants of the time and especially the religious yearnings for knowledge as +a means of edification was needed. The Christ-idea had taken a definite +shape in the imagination of the Christian congregations of Asia Minor, +consisting of diaspora Jews and Gentiles, and their Christ-idea found a +worthy expression in the picture of Jesus of Nazareth as we have it in +the fourth gospel. + +The fact that the author of the fourth gospel was a Jew-Christian, +appears from his readiness to explain Jewish customs. He knows Judaism, +and is familiar with Jerusalem as it appeared after the destruction of +the temple. The probability is that he wrote his gospel between 120 and +140. He is comparable to Matthew in so far as both are greatly interested +in the controversy between Gentiles _versus_ Jews, yet Matthew’s +Israel has grown into the world-wide cosmos. The frequent occurrence +of the very word “cosmos” in the fourth gospel is remarkable. In the +same way the Greek term γιγνώσκειν (to know) appears besides the older +term πιστεύειν (to believe), which latter is a translation of a Jewish +conception, still employed so vigorously by St. Paul. The author of the +fourth gospel is not familiar with Galilee and does not seem to care for +consistency in the details of his accounts, for he frequently contradicts +his own statements. The most important differences between his and the +three synoptic gospels are the accounts as to the main field of Jesus’s +activity, which according to St. John was Judea, according to the +synoptic gospels Galilee, and the day of Jesus’s death, which according +to St. John is the 14th of Nisan, according to the synoptic gospels the +15th of Nisan, so that if we follow the latter, Jesus would have been +tried and condemned, against all Jewish customs, on one of the greatest +festival days. Holtzmann rightly warns the reader, that whatever may +speak in favor of the synoptic gospels as being, in general, historically +more correct, the author of the fourth gospel might have had some special +source for this particular fact.— + +The Revelation of St. John has given more trouble to the Christian +exegesis than any other book, and light was not shed upon its plan and +construction, until it was found to be one instance only of a whole class +of literary productions. When we consider the Revelation of St. John in +the same line with other apocalyptic works, and when we understand the +mental disposition of the pious Jews shortly before and after Christ, we +have a clew to the enigmatic visions which are unrolled before our eyes. + +The expectations of the Jews in the times of the Maccabees were +disappointed again and again. The great events of the world did not +justify the national hopes, and God did not seem to care about fulfilling +his promises. The last prophet, who called himself Malachi, or “the +messenger of God,” proclaimed the message of the Lord, “Yet I loved +Jacob,” and he comforts the faithful who still endure in all their +tribulations, that “a book of remembrance is written before him for them +that feared the Lord and that thought upon His name.” After Malachi, +a number of revelations appeared, which, to the satisfaction of the +Messianic expectations, explained the events of the world, and prophesied +that those only who should persevere until the end would be called upon +to rule, together with the “Son of Man,” who is to come to smite the +heathens and to rule them with an iron rod. The first apocalyptic author, +who wrote in 164 B. C., impersonated Daniel, the prophet, who had lived +about 400 B. C. The powerful nations of the world are represented as +beasts, the fourth and last beast being the Macedonian empire. It has +ten horns, that is, rulers, the last one being Antiochus Epiphanes. As +soon as his power is broken, the power over the earth will be given to +Israel, which is called the Son of Man. The power of the tenth horn was +broken, indeed, yet the Messianic hopes remained unfulfilled, and thus +new prophecies were wanted, which should again explain the plans of +the Almighty, so that the faithful would still endure and hope. Thus, +Henoch was written, and after Henoch the Assumption of Moses, the book of +Baruch, and other revelations. + +The apocalyptic literature is characterised by Messianic expectations and +eschatological reflections. The end of the present course of affairs is +said to be near at hand and a new order will be established in which the +faithful shall rule for a whole millennium and the wicked be tormented. + +The Revelation of St. John represents this spirit of apocalyptic hopes +among the early Christians of Asia Minor. It throws much light upon the +conditions and the conceptions of a period concerning which we have +very little information. We here see Christianity in its beginnings. +The coloring of the Revelation is still Jewish. Its author stands in +a conscious contrast to the Greek spirit which is about to change the +properly Jewish character of the new doctrine. The author of the St. John +revelation is a Jew to the backbone still; he denounces the antinomistic +Christianity of the Gentiles as represented by Nocolaitanes whom, we are +told, God hateth. He does not directly mention the apostle St. Paul, but +there is little doubt that he is alluded to in Chap. II, 2, as one of +them “which say they are apostles and are not.” + +The more powerful the Greek spirit grew in the church, the weaker became +these original features inherited from the diaspora Jews until they +were dropped forever through the efforts of Origenes who made a decided +and successful opposition to the belief in the millennium. Yet it took +some time for the traditional view of the Messiah to change into the +purer and more spiritual Christ-ideal There were two parties in the +early church who spoke two radically different idioms; the one still +cherished the old chiliasm, dreaming of the establishment of a millennium +on earth. Their terminology moved always in the same allegories: they +spoke of green and fat fields and of sulphurous abysses, of white horses +and terrible beasts, of trees of life, of golden cities and of war and +bloodshed, while the other party spoke of Logos, of the eternal Son +through whom the world had been made, of “the dispensation of the fulness +of the times in which God might gather together in one all things in +Christ, both which are in heaven and which are on earth,” of the pleroma +and of aeons. + +The Revelation of St. John is an expression of the former party and it +was natural that after a complete victory of the latter party, Christian +teachers knew not what to make of this book which shows Christian views +by the side of an irreconcilable Judaism, and a worldly empire in +Jerusalem, the beloved city with twenty-four Jewish elders representing +the twelve tribes of Israel. The rest of Jerusalem is to be finally +converted while there is no hope for paganism. The difference between +Israelites and Gentiles remains a radical one even in the Holy City when +the new heaven and the new earth has been created. The Gentile-Christians +appear as citizens of a lower order. The Israelites alone live in the +city while the Gentiles only walk in the light thereof, and they shall +bring the glory and honor of the nations into it. + +We have given a few glimpses of the problems of the St. John literature +only. It is impossible to go over the whole field. Nor is it necessary to +do so. Professor Holtzmann has given us so complete a presentation that +we need but refer to his work which is indispensable to all interested +in the literature of the New Testament. It will be the more valuable +and welcome as it is furnished with an index, a feature rarely found in +German books. + + P. C. + + +DIE WILLENSFREIHEIT UND IHRE GEGNER. By _Dr. Constantin Gutberlet_. +Fulda: Fuldaer Actiendruckerei. 1893. + +Dr. Constantin Gutberlet regards the doctrine of free-will as a cardinal +doctrine of Christianity. In the present booklet he endeavors to show +that all attacks made upon it by unchristian savants have failed. He +criticises Höffding, Lombroso, Wundt, Münsterberg, Lotze, P. Ree, and +Schopenhauer, and establishes as his own view a theory of free-will which +he calls “freedom of choice.” He says: “There is no decision without +_sufficient_ reason, but there may be without _rational_ reason. The +sufficient reason is that a greater good may be recognised as possessing +‘blind’ sides, that we can do without it and even reject it for the sake +of these ‘blind’ sides. On the other hand, a lesser good may be given as +an object of willing, and our willing by its own energy conditions the +free decision of the will” (p. 25). Freedom of will is not a reversal +of causation, which latter, according to Gutberlet, is “an absolutely +necessary law” (p. 8 and _passim_). + +It is difficult to understand how Gutberlet, taking this view, can class +himself among the indeterminists. From his premises, we should expect +him to take the view which we have defended, that freedom of will is not +contradictory to determinism. If freedom of will means freedom of choice, +in which “we ourselves, as the contents of our ideas, feelings, and +dispositions, are the cause not only of our activities, but also of our +free decision” (p. 19), then our decisions are most certainly determined +by our character. Gutberlet’s criticism of Wundt (pp. 167-171), who +defends freedom of will and determinism, is wide of the mark, and it +seems that Gutberlet is either not clear on this point himself or he does +not draw the consequences of his own standpoint. Says Gutberlet: “Only +on the supposition that there is no other than ‘mechanical’ causation of +natural forces, can the determinist maintain that freedom abolishes the +principle of causation. In the application of the principle of Causation +‘what happens has a cause’ to natural forces, the principle can be +inverted thus: ‘when all sufficient causes are given, the effect follows +with necessity.’ Yet if there are spiritual agents which stand above the +mechanical causation of nature and natural forces, we cannot _a priori_ +declare that their effects follow with the same necessity from their +character as is the case with nature. Accordingly, unless we assume the +questionable theory that free causation is impossible, we cannot invert +here the principle of causation and use it against free decision” (p. +168). + +How does this sentence agree with Mr. Gutberlet’s statements that +causation is an absolutely necessary law and that “we ourselves ... +are the cause of our free decision.” Our decisions are determined by +“our ideas, feelings, and dispositions,” and yet a sufficient cause +determines its effect only if the causation is mechanical, not if it is +spiritual. Gutberlet explains the difficulty as follows: “Certainly, if +we did not reduce the free decision _once made_ (die _eingetretene_ freie +Entscheidung), to an adequate cause, we should sin against logic and +psychology. But we understand by ‘adequate cause of a decision’ not only +the influence of motives, but also the energy of a free will.” Very well +then, Mr. Gutberlet would be a determinist as much as Wundt. Decisions +are determined by two factors: (1) by the motives (i. e. the objects +which act as stimuli upon the will) and (2) by the character of the +agent. Not everybody is affected by the same stimulus in the same way. +One chooses this and another that motive, and his character determines +the choice; and a man of a certain character, under definitely given +conditions, will freely and yet necessarily choose a certain motive. Dr. +Gutberlet, it appears to us, says yes and no in one breath. + +Dr. Gutberlet is the editor of the _Philosophisches Jahrbuch_, a Roman +Catholic periodical. He belongs to that class of men who by partisans of +free thought are regarded as especially dangerous. He is not as narrow +as the common type of _defensores fidei_. He studies the works of modern +savants “whose intellectual superiority,” as he confesses, he “admires +in many respects.” He is broader than most of his _confreres_, and thus +he makes the creed of his church appear broader than it practically is. +We can see no danger in the appearance of such men. It is true, he will +make converts among the educated, or at least, he will keep some wavering +elements within the pale of the church; for the Roman church is, upon the +whole, still very hostile to progress. But, on the other hand, such a man +is in his circles a missionary of science; he will help to broaden the +views of his brethren. He is learning, and they will learn from him. + + P. C. + + +GRUNDZÜGE DER PHYSIOLOGISCHEN PSYCHOLOGIE. By _Wilhelm Wundt_. Leipsic: +Wilhelm Engelmann. 1893. + +Wundt’s “Physiological Psychology” is perhaps justly regarded as his +best and most valuable work. We have just received the first part of the +fourth edition and may expect that the second part will soon appear. We +intend to review the whole work as soon as completed, and will state +here only that this new edition contains, among many emendations and +additions, an explicit account of the modern methods of psychological +investigations, with descriptions and illustrations of the most important +instruments invented for that purpose. + + κρς. + + +VERGLEICHEND-ENTWICKELUNGSGESCHICHTLICHE UND ANATOMISCHE STUDIEN IM +BEREICHE DER HIRNANATOMIE. 3. RIECHAPPARAT UND AMMONSHORN. Abdruck +aus _Anatomischer Anzeiger_. By _Dr. L. Edinger_. (Jena: 1893. Gustav +Fischer.) + +Dr. Edinger proves in this essay that in the cerebral evolution of +animals the cortex makes its first appearance in the formation of the +cornu ammonis. This convolution being the centre of smell, it is more +than merely probable that smell sensations, or something analogous to +smell sensations, were phylogenetically the first psychical functions. + + κρς. + + +ÉTAT MENTAL DES HYSTÉRIQUES LES STIGMATES MENTAUX. By _Pierre Janet_. +Paris: Rueff & Co. 1892. + +M. Pierre Janet, one of the most prominent disciples of Professor +Charcot, presents in this little volume of two hundred and thirty-three +pages a summary of the results of modern psychical research as it is +understood at the Salpétrière. Charcot himself recommends the book to the +medical profession. Janet investigates anæsthesia (Chap. I), amnesia, +abulia, the diseases of motion, and the modifications of character. The +author proposes to “describe the phenomena and endeavors to establish a +rigorous determinism of their relations. The moral view of a diseased +person,” he says, “ought to constitute a part of the clinical diagnosis +while the psychical state must be closely investigated in its connection +with physiological facts. This is the only way in which the physician +can gain a knowledge of the entire man and understand the diseases which +affect his organism.” + +Professor Charcot states that Professor Janet’s researches on the mental +state of hysterical persons were begun long ago and completed under his +supervision; that they were expounded by M. Janet in the Spring of 1892 +in a few lectures at the Salpétrière; that they tend to confirm the +idea, often expressed in his own teachings, that hysteria is upon the +whole a mental disease. + +Hypnotism has long enough been regarded not only as harmless but even as +a panacea for almost all the ailments of mankind. It would be well to +heed Charcot’s warning, as hysterical diseases may be treated with better +success, if the mystery that still surrounds them disappears before calm +and scientific investigation. + + ς. + + +L’ÉCOLE D’ANTHROPOLOGIE CRIMINELLE. By _l’Abbé Maurice de Baets_. Gand: +P. van Fleteren. 1893. + +Dr. de Baets, Professor of Philosophy of the Gregorian University +of Rome, Italy, and Secretary to the Bishop of Ghent, criticises in +this elegantly printed little volume the modern school of criminal +anthropology. He believes with Herbert Spencer that, if a great number +of people accept certain errors, these errors must contain a kernel of +truth. Professor de Baets says that he does not deny crime to be an +outgrowth of the organism, to be inherited, to be closely connected with +insanity, etc., but he cannot approve of criminal unaccountableness. The +denial of responsibility, he says, is the denial of the wrong, and the +denial of the wrong is the denial of morality. He sums up his view in +italics on page 48: “Man is responsible for his acts in the measure that +his acts depend on a free will.” + + κρς. + + +AGAINST DOGMA AND FREE-WILL. By _H. Croft Hiller_. London: Williams and +NORGATE. 1892. + +The author has much to say against ecclesiasticism and sacerdotalism, and +while he repudiates such men as Wundt and Ribot, he “begs to thank Drs. +Weismann, Luys, and Ferrier from whose labors the views expressed in this +treatise derive that scientific authentication without which they would +be worthless.” The book is apparently a first venture into the stormy +ocean of literary pursuits. + + ς. + + +THE PHILOSOPHY OF INDIVIDUALITY, OR THE ONE AND THE MANY. By _Antoinette +Brown Blackwell_. New York and London: G. P. Putnam’s Sons. 1893. + +The author trusts that she has “_demonstrated_ a conscious immortality.” +In a former book of hers entitled “The Physical Basis of Immortality,” +1876, she propounded “the theory of persistent mind-matter individuals” +which are to be conceived as ultimate atoms. The present volume of five +hundred and nineteen pages is written to show that “this conception of +the ultimate atoms could consistently explain and harmonise mental and +material phenomena and by coördinated interpretations of the most diverse +processes simplify and unify nature and her manifestations.” The theory +of the correlation of matter and mind is accepted; “Nature,” the author +says, “is nothing if not mathematical,” and there are many passages to +which no monistic thinker would take exception. Along with them we find +statements, e. g. on the rhythmic motion of atoms, etc., which it will be +difficult to prove. Her peculiar view is characterised in the following +sentence: “All ultimate individualities _may_ be identical in kind, but +no obvious necessity decides that they _must_ be, and in an order of +things where other varieties are prevalent, the weight of evidence for +the present is on the side of varieties, even in the ultimate units.” +The author’s theory (if we rightly understand her) has been tried +before. Some suggestions of Goethe’s seem to indicate that he believed +in soul-monads, and the German psychologist Herbart erected on the +assumption of material soul-atoms his system of a mathematical psychology +in which sound science was curiously mingled with improbable vagaries. +The author of “The Philosophy of Individuality,” although apparently +quite well informed otherwise, has, strange enough, not taken notice +either of Goethe or of Herbart. Perhaps she would have abandoned her +theory if she had been fully familiar with Herbartism and the critique +which it has received; for Herbart’s soul-atoms are to-day regarded as a +thing of the past. + + κρς. + + +DIE GRUNDBEGRIFFE DER GEGENWART. By _Prof. Rudolf Eucken_. Leipsic: Veit +& Co. 1893. + +Prof. Rudolf Eucken discusses in this volume such topics as +“Subjective—Objective”; “A priori—A posteriori”; “Monism—Dualism”; +“Idealism, Realism, and Naturalism”; “Theoretical—Practical,” and +so forth. It seems to us that Eucken has not yet fully succeeded in +reconciling his philosophy with natural science. We are glad to notice +that he has a critical eye for the shortcomings of naturalists under +whose methods of classification and mechanical conceptions the properly +spiritual of man would be eliminated. He is judicious in his exposition +of the various problems, but we miss a final solution, such as would +clearly state and recognise the truth in both. Nevertheless the book is +sound, full of valuable information, and its perusal is to be recommended +to every student of philosophy. + + κρς. + + +THE ÆSTHETIC ELEMENT IN MORALITY. By _Frank Chapman Sharp, Ph.D._ New +York: Macmillan & Co. 1893. + +The book contains chapters on: (1) the theory of altruism; (2) the +intrinsic worth of character; (3) an analysis of moral beauty; (4) +an examination of the æsthetic method of ethics; and (5) the idea of +obligation in æsthetics and ethics. The author’s knowledge of ethical +theories appears to be limited. Duns Scotus, the Realist, is called a +thoroughgoing Nominalist. In spite of such defects, we find much that +is good in the book. In the end of his discussion the author says with +truth: “When the element of the _good_, or that which is capable of +clothing itself in the form of an ideal, is taken out of the conception +of obligation, this latter degenerates into what is nothing more than +mere submission to an arbitrary imperative....Prometheus, chained to the +rocks for bringing the gift of fire to the wretched barbarous inhabitants +of the earth, in defiance of the will of the ‘Father of gods and men,’ is +one of the grandest productions of the human imagination, and were the +Supreme Being such a one as Augustine and Calvin imagined him, we should +despise the wretched slaves that licked the dust at his feet.” + + κρς. + + + + +PERIODICALS. + + +ZEITSCHRIFT FÜR PSYCHOLOGIE UND PHYSIOLOGIE DER SINNESORGANE. + +CONTENTS: Vol. V. Nos. 1 and 2. + + DIE STABILITÄT DER RAUMWERTE AUF DER NETZHAUT. By _Franz + Hillebrand_. + + UEBER EIN OPTISCHES PARADOXON. (Second Article.) By _Franz + Brentano_. + + LITTERATURBERICHT. (Hamburg and Leipsic: Leopold Voss.) + +This second article, “On an Optical Paradox,” is a rejoinder of Franz +Brentano of Vienna to Th. Lipps. We gave an account of this interesting +discussion in _The Monist_, Vol. III, No. 1, p. 153 et seqq. Professor +Brentano insists on explaining the optical illusion concerning distances +between two points, as seen in Fig. 1-3, by an overestimation of +small and an underestimation of large angles. He complains of being +misunderstood by Professor Lipps who substitutes “acute” for “small” and +“obtuse” for “large”; for, says he, in comparisons both angles may be +obtuse or both may be acute. Professor Brentano adds some more puzzling +figures to prove his case; and, as in his first article, his propositions +are ingenious and thought-stimulating; but his arguments do not suffice +to convince us of the validity of his theory. We do not exactly +intend to deny the general rule as to the overestimation of large and +underestimation of small angles, but are inclined to believe that it will +not serve as a sufficient explanation. We reproduce the most important +figures devised by Brentano, and take the liberty of adding a few remarks +and additional figures of our own. + +[Illustration: Fig. 1.] + +[Illustration: Fig. 2.] + +[Illustration: Fig. 3.] + +Fig. 4 represents two right angles, one of which is divided into nine +angles of 10° each. Brentano claims that we so overestimate the nine +small angles as to take the undivided right angle as an acute one. I can +only say that however much I have tried, I am not subject to the illusion. + +[Illustration: Fig. 4.] + +In Fig. 5 we have on the straight line _AB_ a series of stations which +are connected with a common centre. The line _AB_ is not a curve, but +this figure reminds us of a perspective view of the sector of a circle. +The drawing appears as the diagrammatic picture of a shield, the buckle +of which is in _C_. Thus _AB_ is conceived as representing a curve. It +does not seem that a comparison of the angles has anything to do with the +illusion. + +How much perspective interferes with the optical illusions under +discussion, impresses itself upon my mind, when I think of figure 5 as +the diagram of a mountain, rising above the plane _AB_. If I imagine I +stand below the plane, which may be a high table-land, the line _AB_ +appears to my eye straight. But when I imagine I am looking down upon the +plane, the curvature of _AB_ becomes very strongly marked. + +[Illustration: Fig. 5.] + +In Fig. 6 we can detect no optical illusion. The line _AB_ appears +straight to us. The drawing reminds us of a sunrise on the ocean. + +[Illustration: Fig. 6.] + +The same must be said about Figure 7. Brentano, in agreement with Lipps, +claims that we are inclined to regard the distance between the ends of +the two lines as larger than between the points. If there is any illusion +at all, it seems to me, that on the contrary, the distance between the +ends of the lines appears shorter. And why? We measure the distance by +allowing our eyes to run from one point to the other and then comparing +the measurements. This comparison is geometrically effected by combining +the respective starting points, and thus judging as to the parallelism +of these two lines mentally constructed. Whether or not the dots appear +equidistant, depends upon the execution of all these operations. While +directly measuring the distances between the points, we have an easier +measurement where the lines are attached. The lines give to the points +a certain vim; they almost appear to move with a velocity indicated by +the length of the little lines, while the isolated dots present a very +phlegmatic appearance. + +[Illustration: Fig. 7.] + +In order to see what effects other positions of the lines produce, let +us compare in Fig. 9 the several relations by covering the rest. If +there is any illusion as to _a_ and _b_, we should say that the points +of _a_ appear at a greater distance; as to _b_ and _c_, we see the +greater distance in _c_, as to _c_ and _d_, we feel doubtful, while +any comparison with _e_, tends strongly to convince us of their equal +distance. The reason is obvious. The lines in _e_ assist us in drawing +the parallels, which we consciously or unconsciously construct in order +to compare the distances. + +[Illustration: Fig. 8.] + +[Illustration: Fig. 9.] + +A comparison like that of α and β in Fig. 8, where the equal length of +the combining lines is very apparent, induced Brentano to regard the +illusion which is observed in Figures 1-3 as due to the angles. In our +opinion he is mistaken. For the illusion actually takes place in α and +β; only it is quickly corrected with the help of the parallels, which, +as in ε, assist the imagination in making an exact comparison. When we +place α and β either at a sufficient distance, or are somehow prevented +from making use of the parallel lines, we shall have the same illusion +as appears in Figures 1, 2, 3. To prove this, we have but to bring the +figure α in a slanting position, as is shown in λ, and the illusion +is so strong that many will find it difficult to believe that λ is an +electrotyped duplicate of α. + +The mooted illusions are not sense-illusions, but illusions of judgment; +and we believe that the explanation of these curious phenomena must be +sought in the elements which unconsciously enter into the make-up of our +judgments. + +Lipps says that lines are felt to be movements. If a line is continued, +albeit with a slight declination, the motion appears “free and +victorious,” aspiring beyond itself; while, if confined in the corner +of an acute angle, it seems cut off and impeded. The victoriously +progressive motion is overestimated; the checked motion is underestimated. + +Brentano, in order to meet Lipps’s objections, proposes a few additional +figures, of which we reproduce the most important ones in Fig. 10-14. + +[Illustration: Fig. 10.] + +[Illustration: Fig. 11.] + +[Illustration: Fig. 12.] + +[Illustration: Fig. 13.] + +[Illustration: Fig. 14.] + +It seems to us that the main part which the angles play in these or any +other similar figures, consists in leading our imagination astray. The +parallel lines which we attempt to construct for our comparison, switch +slightly off with an inclination toward the angles. + +But that is not all; there are other elements that affect our judgment +at the very outset. In measuring a distance we do something, and in +looking at a diagram we think something. The diagram is suggestive of +some reality to which we compare it. All these ideas, be they conscious, +subconscious, or even unconscious, affect our judgment and are sometimes +apt to lead it astray. + +In addition we have to mention two things, the influence of which upon +our verdict cannot be doubted; the one is the size of the entire figure, +the other the vacuity of the distance to be measured: both tend to make +the distance appear longer than it really is. To illustrate this, we add +the three Figures 15, 16, 17 which contain no angles and yet show the +same illusions. + +[Illustration: Fig. 15.] + +[Illustration: Fig. 16.] + +[Illustration: Fig. 17.] + +The distance between the points in Figure 17 appears longer than in +Figure 16, and in Figure 16 again longer than in Figure 15. The fact is, +that before starting on our measurement-journey, we have in Figure 17 +already traversed a good distance after having noted the extraordinarily +lengthened boundary marks. The town _A_ may be exactly as far as the town +_B_, yet the journey to _A_ will appear longer, if I have to ride an hour +before I reach the station, while I may live opposite the terminus of the +railroad to _B_. + +When our eyes glide down from one point to the other, we pass in one +case through an empty desert the dreariness of which is not interrupted. +We almost lose our way and become lonesome in its monotony. If our way, +however, is full of variations, we are pleasantly entertained and regard +our journey as so much shorter. The contrast is most obvious in figure +10. The time-illusions as to the swiftness of hours of work or amusement +and the slowness of moments of _ennui_ have become proverbial among all +nations. The more dreariness, the more marked is the lengthening of the +distance, while even a partial accompaniment shortens the traversed road. + + κρς. + +CONTENTS: Vol. V. Nos. 3 and 4. + + THEORIE DES FARBENSEHENS. By _H. Ebbinghaus_. + + UEBER DEN MUSKELSINN BEI BLINDEN. By _Paul Hocheisen_. + + LITTERATURBERICHT. (Hamburg and Leipsic: Leopold Voss.) + + +VIERTELJAHRSSCHRIFT FÜR WISSENSCHAFTLICHE PHILOSOPHIE. + +CONTENTS: Vol. XVII. No. 2. + + EINIGES ZUR GRUNDLEGUNG DER SITTENLEHRE. (First Article.) By + _J. Petzoldt_. + + KRITIK DER GRUNDANSCHAUUNGEN DER SOCIOLOGIE H. SPENCER’S. By + _P. Barth_. + + WERTHTHEORIE UND ETHIK. (Second Article.) By _Chr. Ehrenfels_. + (Leipsic: O. R. Reisland.) + + +THE AMERICAN JOURNAL OF PSYCHOLOGY. + +CONTENTS: Vol. V. No. 3. + + ON ERRORS OF OBSERVATION. By _Prof. James McKeen Cattell_. + + MINOR STUDIES FROM THE PSYCHOLOGICAL LABORATORY OF CLARK + UNIVERSITY. + + ON THE DISCRIMINATION OF GROUPS OF RAPID CLICKS. By _Thaddeus + L. Bolton_. + + STATISTICS OF DREAMS. By _Mary Whiton Calkins_. + + ON THE PRESSURE SENSE OF THE DRUM OF THE EAR AND “FACIAL + VISION.” By _F. B. Dresslar_. + + ON REACTION-TIMES WHEN THE STIMULUS IS APPLIED TO THE REACTING + HAND. By _J. F. Reigart and Edmund C. Sanford_. + + EXPERIMENTS UPON PHYSIOLOGICAL MEMORY BY MEANS OF THE + INTERFERENCE OF ASSOCIATIONS. By _John A. Bergström_. + + A NEW INSTRUMENT FOR WEBER’S LAW; WITH INDICATIONS OF A LAW OF + SENSE MEMORY. By _James H. Leuba_. + + A NEW PENDULUM CHRONOGRAPH. By _Edmund C. Sanford, Ph. D._ + + LABORATORY COURSE IN PHYSIOLOGICAL PSYCHOLOGY. (Fourth Paper.) + By _Edmund C. Sanford, Ph. D._ (Worcester, Mass.: J. H. Orpha.) + + +THE PHILOSOPHICAL REVIEW. + +CONTENTS: Vol. II. No. 3. + + GERMAN KANTIAN BIBLIOGRAPHY. By _Dr. Erich Adickes_. + + THE EPISTEMOLOGY OF NEO-KANTISM. By _Prof. Andrew Seth_. + + MENTAL MEASUREMENT. By _Prof. J. McK. Cattell_. + + BOOK REVIEWS. (Boston, New York, Chicago: Ginn & CO.) + + +REVUE PHILOSOPHIQUE. + +CONTENTS: Vol. XVIII. No. 5. + + PSYCHOLOGIE DU MUSICIEN. 1. L’EVOLUTION DES APTITUDES + MUSICALES. By _L. Dauriac_. + + LA SOCIABILITÉ ET LA MORALE CHEZ LES ANIMAUX. By _Houssay_. + + SUR LES IDÉES GÉNÉRALES. By _Marchesini_. + + QUESTIONNAIRE SUR L’AUDITION COLORÉE, FIGURÉE ET ILLUMINÉE. By + _Gruber_. + + L’ATTENTION ET LES IMAGES. By _F. Paulhan_. + + UNE ILLUSION D’OPTIQUE. By _B. Bourdon_. + + SCIENCE ET SOCIALISME. _G. Sorel_. + + ANALYSES ET COMPTES RENDUS. (Paris: Félix Alcan.) + +CONTENTS: Vol. XVIII. No. 6. + + LA NOUVELLE THÉORIE DE L’HÉRÉDITÉ DE WEISMANN. By _Y. Delage_. + + UN CALCULATEUR DU TYPE VISUEL. By _J.-M. Charcot and A. Binet_. + + PSYCHOLOGIE DU MUSICIEN.—II. L’OREILLE MUSICALE. By _L. + Dauriac_. + + +REVUE DE MÉTAPHYSIQUE ET DE MORALE. + +CONTENTS: Vol. I. No. 2. + + LE MOUVEMENT ET LES ARGUMENTS DE ZÉNON D’ÉLÉE. By _G. Noël_. + + LE PROBLÈME MORAL DANS LA PHILOSOPHIE DE SPINOZA. By _V. + Delbos_. + + LE CONCEPT DU NOMBRE CHEZ LES PYTHAGORICIENS. By _G. Milhaud_. + + LE DIALOGUE DANS L’ENSEIGNEMENT DE LA PHILOSOPHIE. By _C. + Mélinand_. (Paris: Librairie Hachette et Cie.) + +CONTENTS: Vol. I. No. 3. + + LES PRÉTENDUS SOPHISMES DE ZÉNON D’ÉLÉE. By _V. Brochard_. + + SPIR ET SA DOCTRINE. By _A. Penjon_. + + ESSAI SUR LE CARACTÈRE GÉNÉRAL DE LA CONNAISSANCE. By _G. + Remacle_. + + +PHILOSOPHISCHES JAHRBUCH. + +CONTENTS: Vol. VI. No. 2. + + BEGRIFF DER PHILOSOPHIE. By _Uebinger_. + + DIE OBJECTIVITÄT UND DIE SICHERHEIT DES ERKENNENS. By + _Isenkrahe_. + + DER BEGRIFF DES “WARREN.” (Concluded.) By _Franz Schmid_. + + DER GRUNDPLAN DER MENSCHLICHEN WISSENSCHAFT. By _Bahlmann, S. + J._ + + HANDSCHRIFTLICHES ZU DEN WERKEN DES ALANUS. By _Bäumker_. + (Fulda, 1893.) + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 76881 *** |