Chapter XXVIII: Part 28

“To satisfy our doubts, therefore, it is necessary that a
method should be found by which our beliefs may be caused by
nothing human, but by some external permanency—by something
upon which our thinking has no effect.... The method must be
such that the ultimate conclusion of every man shall be the
same. Such is the method of science” (ibid. p. 11.)

“That whose characters are independent of how you or I think is
an external reality” (ibid. p. 298).

“All the followers of science are fully persuaded that the
processes of investigation, if only pushed far enough, will
give one certain solution to every question to which they can
be applied.... They may at first obtain different results, but,
as each perfects his method and his processes, the results
will move steadily together toward a destined centre.... The
opinion which is fated to be ultimately agreed to by all who
investigate, is what we mean by the truth, and the object
represented in this opinion is the real” (ibid. pp. 299-300).

The word “fated” must be understood as Mr. Peirce understands it. He adds in a foot-note:

“Fate means merely that which is sure to come true, and cannot
be avoided.”

IV.

NECESSITY IN THOUGHT PRESUPPOSES NECESSITY IN FACTS.

I have thus outlined Mr. Peirce’s views, not only because his line of reasoning[76] is admirable and deserves to be universally known and recognised, but also because it seems to me to have some bearing upon the question at issue.

If the ultimate conclusion of every man concerning reality shall be the same, there must be some truth in the idea of necessity. If there is an opinion “fated to be ultimately agreed to,” we are confronted in our representation of reality with something that is inevitable. Shall there be necessity in thought but not in that of which all our ideas are but images and symbols? We can conceive of the necessity in the ideal realm of thought only as a reflection of that necessity which pervades the original and prototype of our thought, which lives in reality.

V.

MR. PEIRCE’S EVOLUTIONISM.

I have tried to find an explanation of Mr. Peirce’s position which appears to me self-contradictory and I believe I have found the key that will explain it.

I read somewhere a stray remark of Mr. Peirce’s in which he demanded that evolutionism should be thorough-going. The conception of evolution in vogue at present, he said, stops short at a certain point, and substitutes for an explanation the unknowable. Mr. Peirce says:

“Does not space call for some explanation? Is not that a
half-way philosophy which in these our days does not explain,
or at least hold out some promise of explaining, why space
is continuous, why it has such a wonderful uniformity in all
its parts, why there are neither more nor less than three
dimensions everywhere, why every closed curve can, by a
continuous change of position, size, and form, be brought into
coincidence with every other, and why the three angles of a
triangle make exactly one hundred and eighty degrees, or at
least so very closely so that we cannot tell whether they make
more or less?”

Mr. Peirce does not intend to halt before these problems, but to explain them and carries the principle of evolution to its ultimate conclusions, so as to explain from it not only the forms of living organisms but also the laws of nature including the laws of space. Mr. Peirce declares in his article “The Architecture of Theories” (_The Monist_, Vol. I, No. 2, p. 165):

“Uniformities are precisely the sort of facts that need to be
accounted for.... Law is _par excellence_ the thing that wants
a reason.”

And what he means by it is further elucidated in his article “The Doctrine of Necessity Examined” (_The Monist_, Vol. II, No. 3, p. 334):

“That single events should be hard and unintelligible, logic
will permit without difficulty: we do not expect to make the
shock of a personally experienced earthquake appear natural and
reasonable by any amount of cogitation. But logic does expect
things _general_ to be understandable. To say that there is a
universal law, and that it is a hard, ultimate, unintelligible
fact, the why and wherefore of which can never be inquired
into, at this a sound logic will revolt; and will pass over
at once to a method of philosophising which does not thus
barricade the road of discovery.”

It is perfectly true that “law is _par excellence_ the thing that wants a reason,” and any explanation that explains it by the assumption of an unknowable is unphilosophical. I agree with Mr. Peirce that we must not halt here; but I have no confidence in his method of explanation. Mr. Peirce’s original idea, then, and I should add, his main mistake, is that he proposes to explain the origin of natural law by evolution.

In his legitimate anxiety to explain law, Mr. Peirce declares chance to be exempt therefrom. He says:

“That a pitched coin should sometimes turn up heads and
sometimes tails calls for no particular explanation.” (_The
Monist_, Vol. I, No. 2, p. 165.)

But chance in our opinion needs exactly as much explanation as anything else. Mr. Peirce very improperly identifies “that which cannot be accounted for” with “that which need not be accounted for.” Absolute chance, if it existed, would _not_ so much _not_ call for a particular explanation as actually be unexplainable, and being incapable of explanation, it would have to be considered as an unintelligible fact, as inscrutable, incomprehensible, and mystical. On the assumption that chance need not be accounted for, Mr. Peirce builds the architecture of his theory. He says:

“Chance is first, law is second, the tendency of habits is
third.”

The application of this general statement is set forth in the following passage:

“In psychology Feeling is First, Sense of reaction Second,
General conception Third, or mediation. In biology, the idea of
arbitrary sporting is first, heredity is second, the process
whereby the accidental characters become fixed is third.”

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. Does not Mr. Peirce’s formula, supposing it to be true, deserve the same reproach which he casts upon natural law in general, viz., that it is “a hard, ultimate, unintelligible fact, the why and wherefore of which can never be inquired into”?

VI.

WORLD-CONSTRUCTIONS.

There are two methods of philosophising, one starts with ideas which are supposed not to need any explanation, the other starts from facts and uses facts as data. The former is the method of the constructionist or ontologist, the latter that of the positivist. The constructionist attempts to beget a world-theory in the same way that God was supposed to have created the world; he attempts to bring it into being either out of a real nothing or out of something like nothing. He constructs a world-theory out of the self-evident, out of the absolute, out of the indubitable, or out of that the contrary of which is inconceivable. The positivist, however, employs facts as the given material, which he works out into a consistent and systematic whole. The former view is synthetic and constructive, the latter is analytic and descriptive. The former view is the method of Hegel, Oken, and also of Mr. Spencer, the latter is the method of all scientists and the ideal of the positive philosophy.

Mr. Peirce although very positivistic in his logic of science, must in philosophy still be counted among the constructionists.

Chance is to Mr. Peirce as much absolute as was to Hegel the idea of “abstract being,” which as such, Hegel said, is equivalent to “non-being.” Non-being need not be accounted for. So Hegel starts with this idea, and finding that “becoming” is the oscillation between being and non-being launches his abstract thought upon the terra firma of reality.

In the same way and with similar ingenious ingenuity Oken starts the world with zero. Zero or non-being need not be accounted for. Its existence calls for no particular reasons. What is zero? We can conceive it as “0 = 1 - 1.” Thus we have “+1” and “-1,” two units. The whole world, according to Oken, is only a disintegration of Nothing, an equation of enormous complexity but always equal to zero. And that explains the world!

Mr. Spencer, adopts “the principle of setting out with propositions of which the negations are unconceivable,” without being aware that any inveterate belief or prejudice can be defended from that standpoint. The principle is purely subjective. It does not admit of any objective verification and limits knowledge to individual conception. If Mr. Spencer’s principle were admissible, we could not refute the adversaries of the Copernican system, when they declare that the rotation of the earth up on which we stand is inconceivable. The maxim that that proposition is most certain the negation of which is inconceivable might after all, and it actually did very often, come into conflict with facts. Many propositions are now confidently accepted which were formerly declared to be positively inconceivable.

Mr. Peirce, I say, starts the world with an abstract idea of a something of which he assumes we need not give any account, as did the great ontologists of former times. He constructs, agreeably to his reason, a theory of the way in which the world might have originated, and thus he falls into the mistake criticised by himself as the _a priori_ method. Yet the weakest point of Mr. Peirce’s system is that his “absolute chance” begets order; irregularity becomes law by practice, as if by a sufficiently prolonged shaking the dice would by and by acquire the habit of turning up the same faces each time.

The present world-conception of the scientist regards natural laws as eternal. The order that prevails in these laws constitutes the principle of evolution and changes the chaos of a nebula into a well-arranged planetary system. Thus the original chaos is properly speaking no chaos. It is in all its parts regulated by law and only appears chaotic in comparison with more advanced stages of evolution.

Desirous to account for the regularities of nature Mr. Peirce proposes the idea that nature in the beginning was a real, true chaos, without order, without laws, the single actions of reality taking place irregularly and in a sportive manner. Absolute chance prevailed. Everything was undetermined, exactly as much so as a man is undetermined in his action before his belief is settled. Yet a man, by and by, forms a belief and acts accordingly, not once or twice, but often, until a habit is formed. Thus Mr. Peirce assumes, Nature’s actions are first undetermined, they may be of this kind or of another kind. The same particle of reality may under the same conditions act in different ways, yet it acts somehow; it acts again, and repeats a certain kind of action more frequently than others, thus forming habits. Laws according to Mr. Peirce are the habits acquired by nature.

The proposition of Mr. Peirce’s logic of science points out another method of constructing a world-conception. The recognition of reality in the sense as he conceives it, admonishes us that our world-conception should be a picturing, a mirroring, an imitation of the objective world of facts. It should not be the architecture of a theory, but first an analysis and then a reconstruction of experience; it should be a description of facts, methodically arranged.

VII.

FACTS AND LAWS.

That which we call natural law is not the description of a certain special and concrete form of existence which is now or then and here or there, but of some general quality of facts which is everywhere and always. The former, i. e. every special and concrete form of existence, can be explained by evolution, the latter, i. e. natural law, cannot. The former has to be accounted for by the law of causation, the latter by the principle of sufficient reason. And it is this distinction between cause and reason which Mr. Peirce does not seem to have regarded.

Every special form of existence must, at least theoretically, be traceable as the effect of some cause and every law of nature must be explainable by showing its connection with other natural laws. The only thing in the world of which we cannot and need not give account is the existence of facts itself, or being in general, which is the stubborn presence of reality in us ourselves and also outside of us, objected to our own being as an independent power to which we have to adapt our conduct. We need not prove its existence, for it exists. If anything is ultimate, facts are ultimate; and cognition is nothing but the reconstruction of facts for the purpose of orientation among them, it is a methodical description of reality in the symbols of the feelings that exist in sentient beings.

A scientist having observed a special process of nature, describes it, if possible, in such a way that it is recognised as a transformation. A description of this kind is called an explanation. It renders the process intelligible to us; it is complete and exhaustive. In order to make such a description available for comprehending other cases of the same or similar kind, we have to introduce another principle, which is that of economy. We must single out those features which are common to a certain class and remove all diversity and specificalness. All specificalness and diversity are transient features due to special conditions; they disappear with these special conditions. Thus the notion of natural law involves as an essential characteristic and fundamental quality the absence of the incidental and the temporal.

Natural laws describe the facts of nature _sub specie aeternitatis_. They cease to be natural laws in the proper sense of the word as soon as they are conceived, like legal laws, as products of evolutions, which have appeared in time and may disappear again. Eternity is the characteristic feature of a natural law, it is its backbone, the essence of its being, its _conditio sine qua non_.

Thus in considering a natural phenomenon we are led to distinguish between its cause and its reason: Its cause is something special, it is an individual event, happening in time, and accordingly being transient; it is an occurrence of some kind, it is a single and definite fact. However its reason is not anything special, it is something general; it is not a single and definite fact, but it is a law of universal application; it is not transient, but a conception of things in which the incidental and temporal are eliminated. A reason is applicable to all cases of the same kind and also to all cases of any time. A cause, i. e. a fact, if it truly exists, is real (not true); a law, i. e. a reason, if it really obtains in nature, is true (not real), and any attempt at explaining natural laws as a product of evolution, being based upon the view that regards them as causes not as reasons, as real not as true, as a description of temporal existences, not as viewing facts _sub specie aeternitatis_, must from the outset be a failure.[77]

Mr. Peirce attempts to explain natural laws as if they were single and concrete facts. Where we have to look for reasons he evidently employs the method of searching for causes. He treats that which in its very nature is eternal, as if it were temporal. He regards the everlasting, the imperishable, the immutable as if it had originated, as if it were transient, as if it were the product of a development.

VIII.

LAWS NOT INEXPLICABLE.

But is not Mr. Peirce justified in declaring that law remains unexplained? Is law really as he says “hard, ultimate, inexplicable, immutable”? Law is to be regarded as immutable but not as ultimate or inexplicable, and thus Mr. Peirce’s denunciation of natural law is not justified. All natural laws must be conceived as forming one system ascending from the lower to the higher, from the more special to the more general. And the more comprehensive law represents in each case the reason for the less comprehensive law which is comprised in it. Thus we must finally reach the most general or all-comprehensive law, which is a description of that which is a universal quality of existence.

There is wrong notion prevalent among many thinkers that the most comprehensive description (law or reason) of a certain kind should, as in a nutshell, contain and immediately explain all that which it embraces, so that if once in its possession, we should be omniscient as to all the rest. The most universal law is looked upon as the centre of existence—_das Innerste der Welt_. If we could but get there, we should solve all the world-problems by mere intuition. This is the old error of the students of magic, whose hope is expressed by Faust when he says:

“_Dass ich erkenne, was die Welt_
_Im Innersten zusammenhält._”

That I may detect the inmost force
Which binds the world and shapes its course.—_Bayard Taylor._

Comprehension is not attained simply by finding out and stating the most general feature of a certain class of facts; comprehension does not alone consist of generalisation but also of discrimination. The differences among less general laws must be recognised as results of special conditions. And any knowledge of a general law reveals nothing about the special conditions under the influence of which the same law will work differently.

It is but too often overlooked that the more general a statement is, the less it will contain, the vaguer it will appear, the emptier it must be. There is no royal road to cognition and mere generalisation is of no avail. We shall have to investigate the details of every case and view it in its relation to the general law. The general law must be viewed under those conditions which will invariably produce the same special modifications.

But do not the most general reasons remain uncomprehended? Do we not at last arrive at an ultimate law which, then, must be hard and inexplicable?

Those laws which appear in every respect to be universal are the formal laws of mathematics, arithmetic, and their kindred sciences. And all these formal sciences are not only _not_ mystical, unintelligible, and inexplicable, but they are the most perspicuous, most reliable, and most certain knowledge we possess. All their theorems admit of the most rigid demonstration, and the last shadow of mysticism has been removed by Hermann Grassmann. Owing to his searching investigations we are no longer in need of axioms which were formerly supposed to be the indispensable basis of mathematics.

There is however a basis of formal thought left which we cannot dispense with; that is the idea of sameness, generally formulated as the law of identity. Is perhaps the law of identity by which all the regularities of nature are to be accounted for, inexplicable? Hardly! The idea of sameness has a solid basis in the facts of experience.[78]

IX.

CONCLUSION.

The contrast between Determinism and Indeterminism is old, yet Mr. Peirce has worked out quite a new aspect of Indeterminism and places it upon a basis that appears to be a more solid foundation than it ever before possessed. At the same time he succeeds in making some of its consequences so plausible, that in this new garb it will appeal more strongly than before to scientifically trained minds. With all deference to the logical acuteness of Mr. Peirce and with all admiration for the originality and depth of his thought, we cannot, however, accede to the new philosophy which he proposes.

Mr. Peirce’s propositions go to the core of all problems, they upset everything that has heretofore been considered as firm ground, they question the most fundamental concepts of the world-conception upon which all scientific reasoning and the methods of the positive philosophy rest. Thus they set us a-thinking and will help us to attain greater clearness on points which are to all of us of greater concern than may at first sight appear. For the fundamental problems of philosophy have a deep practical importance. Their importance is less noticeable, less obvious, but at the same time more sweeping the more fundamental they are.

Let us here in concluding this article consider only one, but the most striking one, of the consequences to which both views lead.

Indeterminism leads to a conception of God which although we may call it “mind” and place it at the beginning of the world, is pure chance or the indeterminateness of an arbitrary sporting. Determinism on the other hand leads to a recognition of God as that something in nature that is as it is, that has been and will be. Science, whose method of cognising the truth is and can only be to know in parts, attempts to describe the partial qualities of this something in natural laws.

It is of great consequence in practical life whether God is what the name Jahveh intends to convey, eternal and unalterable being, immutable sameness in the perpetual flux, irrefragable law in the changes of evolution, or whether it is the Τυχή of the pagans, i. e. indeterminable and absolute chance, unaccountable, irregular, capricious, and uncertain.

The God-idea is the basis of ethics. It matters little whether we use or avoid the name God, for the atheist has also a God-idea in his conception of that existence in which he lives and moves and has his being. This God-idea is always the ground from which we derive our rules of conduct; and whenever we change, not our terminology but our idea of God, we shall as a matter of consistency have to change our views of ethics also.

EDITOR.

FOOTNOTES:

[73] Italics are ours.

[74] See _Fundamental Problems_, p. 55.

[75] This is the position of the Societies for Ethical Culture which are not confessedly but practically agnostics. Professor Adler’s position is characterised in _The Monist_, Vol. I, No. 4, p. 567, 599, and _The Open Court_ Nos. 225 and 234. Mr. Salter bases ethics upon “the immovable rock of conscience.” (See his _Ethical Religion_, p. 295.)

[76] Ernst Schroeder in his great work _Vorlesungen über die Algebra der Logik_ adopts in the main the results of Peirce. A sketch of Mr. Peirce’s line of thought, (his _Gedankengang_, as Schroeder calls it,) is found in the _Einleitung_, pp. 107-118.

[77] I laid down my views on the subject in a short monograph of only 82 pages, entitled _Ursache, Grund und Zweck, eine philosophische Abhandlung zur Klärung der Begriffe_ (Dresden: R. von Grumbkow, Hof. Verlag, 1883). In all main points I maintain the same standpoint still. See also _Fundamental Problems_, the chapter on Causality, pp. 79-91 and 96-109.

Since the publication of my German pamphlet my confidence that we can, (not only in the special sciences such as chemistry, mineralogy, botany, etc., but also in philosophy) arrive at truth, has rather been confirmed than shaken. We can create a common ground on which all philosophers agree, as much as mathematicians agree concerning the Pythagorean theorem. But in order to achieve this ideal, philosophers must abandon all attempts at originality. The hankering after originality is an inherited evil in the family of philosophers. The first philosophers were poets, priests, and prophets; later on in the natural evolution of human culture, a differentiation of their combined functions took place. Originality is a virtue in the poet but a vice in his brother, the philosopher. The philosopher’s ideal must be to free himself of all individualism, subjectivity, and original conceptions; he must become strictly objective. He must renounce his personal likes and dislikes, and make his soul a mirror of nature, faithfully and correctly to represent the facts and nothing but the facts. This is the ethics of philosophical inquiry, and the philosophy that takes its stand on this principle we call positivism.

Almost all divergencies of importance in the different philosophical systems can be traced to different conceptions or rather misconceptions of causation.

This last century since Kant has been the most fertile age of original world-theories, all different in style and manner of construction, but all alike in so far as the author of each system had strained his utmost efforts to be original. Thus all these world-theories were so many beautiful poems on ontology, they were so many grand air-castles produced by the magic wand of a fairy-tale causation. The philosopher’s aspiration must not be to present original ideas but to reach that one solution which any other unbiassed thinker must find, to express that truth which in the end will have to be recognised universally, to formulate facts in objective exactness. The degree of originality in philosophic thought marks the degree of aberration from the common aim of the one sole solution, and the greatest source of original ideas is the confusion of cause and reason, of _Ursache_ and _Grund_, of event and law, of fact and truth.

[78] I expect to discuss the problems of sameness, of chance, of mechanicalism, and the freedom of will in the next number of _The Monist_ under the caption _The Doctrine of Necessity: Its Basis and its Scope_.

LITERARY CORRESPONDENCE

I.

FRANCE.

Professor Lombroso is unremitting in bringing up new facts in support of his doctrines. His _Nouvelles Recherches de Psychiatrie et d’Anthropologie criminelle_ (New Researches in Psychiatry and Criminal Anthropology) comprise a good many, gathered from the latest works relating to criminality. In adding psychiatry to anthropology in the title to this volume, writes the learned author, “I return to my starting point and to the true source of these studies, which is only a clinical demonstration, but a more perfect one, of what is called in old psychiatry, moral insanity and masked epilepsy.” Lombroso may be reproached with a certain exaggeration, a certain haste, in his views respecting criminal man: yet can we conceive of an opinionated inquirer who would not have faith in his work, and who could resist the desire to generalise from the facts already obtained? But I have little doubt that the works of his school will end in producing a precise conception, which will force itself on the attention of legislators and jurists. I say _precise_, because one has a glimpse of the truth in criticising the evidence offered to us in such variety, though what one perceives sometimes vanishes.

How can we conceive of the criminal type? This is a prime question on which it is not useless to insist. Crime, as M. Tarde tells us, has become a real profession in our modern societies. Although there is some truth in it, we must not allow ourselves to be deceived by the subtle form of this paradox. There is no want of delinquents carrying on a business; the army of crime recruits itself from all classes, it includes peasants and workmen, chemists and physicians, lawyers and merchants, soldiers and poets, that is to say, subjects possessing some one at least of the aptitudes which form a calling. We have here, then, on the one side, wretches destitute of all aptitude for a trade, and on the other men who do not adhere to the exercise of their profession, although capable of making use of it. The delinquent appears to us, in short, as stricken with some degree of professional incapacity, and if crime has become a profession in some sort, the criminals of every category first represent, if I may thus say, a professional or social waste. The study of the causes and the signs of this waste is just what has been undertaken.

The social causes of crime have often been put in prominence. They are numerous, and persons unacquainted with these questions are inclined to attribute the largest proportion of crimes and offences to distress and misery. But, according to the inquiries of Morrison, for example—and by the confession also of M. Troal, of whom I shall speak immediately—misery rarely produces crime, and if we examine carefully, one after the other, the social causes of crime, we shall soon be convinced that poverty, drunkenness, etc., feed criminality by producing degeneracy of the race, rather than that they directly arouse the criminal.[79] We are compelled then to seek the immediate reason for a crime in the criminal himself, and to learn to distinguish the delinquent by means of the methods fixed upon by anthropologists and physicians.

At first, as we know, Lombroso recognised only one criminal type. He has since found that there are many. The distinction between the thief and the murderer is classical. Benedikt has described the born vagabond; Brouardel, the feminine type. It is always necessary in describing a type to resort to the methods of natural history, to pass in review the emotional and intellectual characters, the physiological or functional characters, the anatomical or morphological characters, and endeavor to seize certain constant correlations between the signs one has been successful in observing. The delinquent may be described as abnormal from the emotional standpoint, and as deficient or perverted from the intellectual point of view. We could then begin by describing exactly certain intellectual and emotional types, and it is no exaggeration to say that experienced magistrates in their way have done so, those even who, with M. Proal, we shall see to be the most hostile to anthropological theories. But they are reluctant to admit any relations between the moral agent and physical nature, whereas the new school, on the contrary, makes every effort to discover and determine them.

How far is it successful? That is the question.

If we take the ensemble of the emotional and intellectual characters, we shall affirm with Professor Pelman (whose opinion Mr. Christian Ufer has made known in _The Monist_) that the portrait of the imbecile traced by Sollier corresponds strongly to that of the born criminal of Lombroso. We shall aver also that this portrait does not answer equally well for all kinds of delinquents, and that we pass gradually from the malignant imbecile to the average or mediocre man. The same observation applies when we study the physiognomical characters of which the little book of Lombroso furnishes a great variety. We shall have evidently to consider, with respect to physiognomical characters and physical marks, a strong type (certainly inborn), a weak type, and, I would add, an _acquired_ type.

If we take functional anomalies—those of touch, sight, etc.—we shall be struck with their number as well as with their importance, and, I may say in passing, the alienist physicians who continue to be the adversaries of Lombroso discover every day fresh examples of them, which could give to the conception of the type, the reality they still deny it to possess. The latest discovery, and certainly one of the most striking, is that which Ottolenghi has just made, in the clinic of Lombroso himself, respecting the visual field of epileptics and of the morally insane. According to the researches of Ottolenghi, the visual field will be remarkably limited, both with epileptics not in paroxysms, and with born delinquents, but more often with the latter. They present a partial hemiopia, vertical and heteronymous; the periphery of the field is sinuous and irregular. This discovery tends, then, to confirm the analogy of epilepsy with criminal tendencies; it will furnish a sign of the first order for a well marked category of delinquents.

Let us pass on to morphological characters. The abundance of evidence is truly extraordinary, and one cannot abstain from remarking, in this relation, that a certain number of the anomalies designated ought to be found, and indeed are found, in morally healthy subjects, and that therefore they do not alone suffice to furnish a ground of distinction from the medium normal type. As certain functional anomalies are not wanting either in many subjects whose morality remains perfect, it would be necessary to aim, it seems to me, at establishing an approximate _quantum_ for the criminal type, or rather for the _kinds_ which ought to lead, by sensible gradations, from the most pronounced type to that which is the least so. Some scattered elements of this work will be found in the book of Lombroso; the studies of Clouston on the palate (deformation of the palate existed in 19 per cent. of the general population, 61 per cent. of imbeciles, 35 per cent. of criminals, and 33 per cent. of madmen); the monographs of Ottolenghi and Roncoroni on the pathological anomalies of 100 criminals, with an indication of the number and the nature of the anomalies, etc.

In short, it cannot be questioned that the new school holds its ground well, since it circumscribes and makes more and more precise the object of its researches. In my humble opinion, it is of importance for it to get rid of hazardous or useless explanations, for it to tell us as little as possible of remote atavism—for if heredity is constant, it is not possible to trace it link by link as far as the deluge!—and finally for pure anthropologists and psychiatrists to beware of themselves drawing practical conclusions from their doctrines. The applications concern jurists, and constitute a question of another kind, into which other considerations also enter.

* * * * *

In the juridical domain, a French magistrate, M. LOUIS PROAL, has just published a considerable work, _Le Crime et la Peine_ (Crime and Punishment) which is truly the performance of an adversary, but not of such an adversary as M. Tarde. M. Proal is an irreconcilable, and all his dialectic—charged a little too much with citations of which many are useless or prove nothing—turns on the absolute affirmation of free-will. He flatters himself to have demonstrated freedom, in which he is wrong. It is a matter of faith, as criticists have very well perceived. Human science can know only determinism; it proves only what it finds.[80]

M. Proal claims then to found on free-will the two principles of the moral responsibility of the delinquent, and the moral character of punishment, in opposition to the purely social point of view in which the new criminalists place themselves. The physical anomaly of the criminal seems to him a chimera, and he goes so far as to deny, or falls little short of it, the relations of frenzied impulsion with degeneracy. Willingly, perhaps, he would accept as truly mad and irresponsible only the insane, those who are shut up forever in the asylums!

Certainly, M. Proal possesses the experience of the magistrate, he has erudition and triumphs easily, in details, by the defects and deficiencies of the doctrine he combats. His objections, nevertheless, do not touch the general conception which connects crime, in a great number of cases, with the disorders of the living machine. He is not willing for the criminal to differ from the honest man otherwise than by his inclinations and will, as though will and inclinations had no dependence on the state of our organs, and as though heredity entered for nothing into the “personal factor” of character! He is not averse to saying that moral and physical decadence is always the effect of criminality, as though it was never its cause! He allows with that attenuations of moral responsibility, resulting from physiological and physical influences, as though a weakened responsibility was a true moral responsibility in the sense he understands, and as though the judge had the means of deciding at what moment morbid evolution involves irresponsibility!

These absolute principles once established, he defines an offense “the violation of a social duty,” and he grants that the judge “ought to take account of the importance of the social evil resulting from the crime.” It is sufficient for him that the _intention_ and the _responsibility_ is appreciated, in order to attach the penalty to morality. In default of which, writes he, there would be no more justice. It is a noble solicitude, that of wishing to justify punishment in the eyes of the guilty person himself, and to inflict it on him as an expiation of the evil he has committed. But here an error is fallen into, which is, in my opinion, to suppose that the law punishes “morally.” The law has not the power to inflict moral chastisement. It strikes the delinquent materially, in his goods, in his person; the rest depends not on the judge who applies the law, but on the judge who is in ourselves, the avenger more or less severe according to the complex incidences of education and heredity. Moral chastisement can exist only in the conscience of the delinquent, and, if this conscience is wanting, or nearly so, all the affirmations of the judge cannot cause the punishment to have the quality of moral expiation for the guilty. The criminal will submit to it through force, and the magistrate will apply it by necessity.

Such is, I think, the true situation. The new school of criminology will introduce reforms in the practice of the tribunals and in the administration of the penal laws; it will not change justice and could not compromise morality. And now pardon me for adding to these some further remarks, in connection with the books of which I have still to speak.

* * * * *

The interests and the passions of men, habits too long acquired to alter, can be considered as the immediate and constant motives of societies, the _vis à tergo_ of their evolution. Political theories work on a pre-existing social matter, and more or less in the direction of the tendencies which have produced the state of things that they aspire to reform or overturn. In a general manner, they possess then neither the power necessary to create, attributed to them by utopists, nor the power to destroy, which makes them appear so formidable to conservatives. Without denying all efficiency to the intellectual ideal, it is permissible to say that its action has a bearing purely conditional, and that the revolutions of growth of social organisms never absolutely depend on the theorist who establishes its diagnosis, and endeavors to regulate its march. We behold, in a word, history making itself, rather than that we make it ourselves and according to our inclination. It is hardly possible for us to foresee the remote effects of our inventions, of our discoveries. In sociology as well as in physics, man remains the servant and the interpreter of nature.

There is in this, if I am not deceived, a reason for reassuring ourselves concerning certain alarming predictions as to the future of our civilisation. In his book _La Civilisation et la Croyance_ (Civilisation and Belief), the second edition of which has just appeared, M. CHARLES SECRÉTAN estimates that our societies will sink down, at least that they will neither return to a purified Christianity—a Christianity that has never yet been practised—nor restore the great principles of the free soul and of God. M. Secrétan is a brilliant writer and has a noble heart, and his book contains at least one truth of the first order, always good to repeat, which is that nothing durable is founded on hatred. He dare not flatter himself, however, that his warnings will be listened to, his lessons observed. Perhaps he exaggerates the real dangers which menace us, because he enlarges, unknown to himself, the rôle of philosophic doctrines, and attributes to the mind a kind of discretionary power over the sentiments and the interests of mankind.

Here we have the intellectualist mistake. It appears chiefly in the revolutionist propaganda which agitates our Europe, and of which M. J. BOURDEAU makes known the ideas and the progress, in a clear and interesting manner, in his work _Le Socialisme allemand et le Nihilisme russe_ (German Socialism and Russian Nihilism). It is a fact well worthy of remark, that the genial promoter of the theories of Fourier, St. Simon, and others—I refer to J. J. Rousseau—had had the conjecture of a social physiology: fragments of his that have been published show well that he did not regard the age of gold as one of savagery, and that he foresaw the part that human nature had to do in our calculations of government. What is found just in his writings could even well be intimately connected with this naturalist point of view. But he lived in the century _par excellence_ of rationalism, where such ideas could be neither developed nor understood; he constructed the political world according to reasoning, and I shall not be far wrong in thinking that socialism represents in its turn, definitively, at least in its essential features, a last offshoot from this rational school which has already, a hundred years ago, made us the villainous present of Jacobinism.

Absolute communism has no chance of ever realising itself. Neither Karl Marx, nor Engels, has ventured even to indicate the possible form of the society of which they dream. The action of the socialists, in turn, could have as its result the substitution for our régime of excessive individualism and of disordered democracy, a régime of corporations and of more regular co-operation, by one of those reversions to institutions anciently delineated that history presents to us, and which respond to a sort of “law of oscillation” of social phenomena. There is no occasion, however, to give it long consideration to establish that these returns do not exclude novelty, for the apparent form of social arrangements is of less moment than the nature of the ideas and of the relations which sustain them, and here is what I would readily call a “law of progressive repetition.” As to the exact sense of the evolution which there manifests itself, the great task of disengaging it falls to the sociologists. But the school of Marx has wished to see things only from one side, and his theory, which is too simple, does not embrace the complexity of the phenomena.[81]

Without any pretension to renew the face of the world and to interpret economic phenomena in favor of an arbitrary thesis, M. AD. COSTA, in his opuscule _Alcoholisme ou Épargne_ (Alcoholism or Thrift) places before us the truly immediate question of socialism, in the presence of this “social dilemma” which reformers willingly mask in their discourses: on one side, alcoholism, life from day to day, the unreasonable and momentary illusion that one imbibes with stimulants, the wasting of daily resources, finally the pauperism which leads to social servitude; on the other side, thrift under all its forms, a provident life ordered with intelligence, abstention from dangerous stimulants, progressive comfort and increasing happiness, more and more freedom. Yes, here are the two issues between which the workers have to choose. Those who read this little book can learn there, both what milliards of salaries alcohol has devoured, and what misery both physical and moral it engenders, and the degradation that it brings to those who give themselves up to it. To many this may be only the small side of a great problem. Without thrift and the qualities which render it possible, there is neither family nor morality. How can a man pretend to possess instruments of labor when he deteriorates the chief of all, his own living machine? How can a social class have the illusion to believe that a revolution ever profits him who is neither able nor capable of preparing and conducting it?

* * * * *

The last work of M. E. DE LAVELEYE, _Le Gouvernement dans la Démocratie_ (Democratic Government),[82] published a few months before his death, treats chiefly of the organisation of public powers. This question has importance to-day, writes the learned author, only in relation to the great questions which will agitate the world of to-morrow, the social question and the religious question. Conservatives make use of government as a brake; revolutionists seek to seize hold of it as a lever. The fact is that our Europe marches towards democracy. But will democracy give us freedom? On what conditions can it form an acceptable régime and one compatible with high culture?

It is not necessary for me to explain here the reasonings and conclusions of M. de Laveleye. His book, to speak the truth, is less a book than a collection of Review articles and historical sketches. The politics of action will find in it too much theory, and philosophers will regret the absence of master-ideas. It is well to read this work for its practical advice and the rich details that it contains; we must not look there for a real historical or social conception.

The sentiment which is dominant, finally, in all the writings of which I have just spoken is inquietude, and unfortunately it is only too well justified. We see, in our Occident, alcoholism increasing with salaries, the hatred of classes with wealth, immorality with enfranchisement, public burdens with political progress, the aggregation of individuals with great industry, criminality even with education. The wealth acquired is compensated for by new evils; it seems that all our conquests have the result of putting social order in peril, and that the civilisation of which we are so proud is bound, in a short time, to become bankrupt.

We have, nevertheless, a weighty capital with which to restore ourselves, and it is only right to say that it is beginning to be applied. But we must give up some errors as to which it is good time to open one’s eyes. One of the gravest, certainly, is always to place instruction before education, and the mind before the heart. We have allowed to drop, at the same time with religion, the difficult task of forming moral habits. Let us understand in a word that, in a society, the most valuable thing is neither the steam engine, nor the bank note, but the man himself, and that in the man even it is not ability or special knowledge but _character_.

LUCIEN ARRÉAT.

FOOTNOTES:

[79] I reserve, as well understood, the question of education, in order to simplify matters here.

[80] A ground of mutual understanding would be supplied by accepting the distinction proposed by P. Carus between _constraint_, which alone excludes freedom, and _necessity_, which leaves our will free within the limits of our character. Already Plotinus had written: “How can it be said of this being (he who obeys his nature) that he obeys, if he is not constrained to follow something external?” (6th _Enn._ lib. viii.)—I recommend to the curious on these questions the book of M. BERTAULD, _Méthode Spiritualiste, Esprit et Liberté_. M. Bertauld places freedom in _autonomy_, which is perfectly reconcilable with psychological determinism; there is on the contrary, he declares, no radical contradiction between determinism and free-will, and indeterminism is an absurd conception. The work is well written, and I do not intend to belittle it by mentioning it in a simple note.

[81] In this relation, I will particularly refer to the great work, in course of publication, of M. B. MALON, _Le Socialisme intégral_, and I recommend at the same time the article _Justice and Socialism_ of M. Belot, which has been much spoken of, in the number for February last of the _Revue Philosophique_.

[82] All the works mentioned in this article are published by F. Alcan.

II.

GERMANY.

In the January number of _The Monist_ I mentioned a treatise written by G. Ludwigs, in which the novels of Wilhelm Walloth were criticised, and expressed my surprise that in the work discussed a personality unquestionably diseased was stamped as a poet of almost the first order. Much that then struck me as strange and was unclear to me, was later rendered plain and intelligible; and the explanation was not long in forthcoming.

As the newspapers shortly afterwards announced, Ludwigs was simply the pseudonym of a sixteen year old gymnasium student of Darmstadt, who had already attracted the attention of wider circles by the poems he had written. It happens at times that individualities of this description bear out in the advanced years of their life the promise of their youth. Extraordinary things were to be expected, though I cannot say _hoped_, of Ludwigs; but the expectation was not fulfilled. He, an instance of real decadence, yet a boy in years, voluntarily took his own life, deeply mourned by his literary associates, the “Young Germans,” in whose magazine _Die Gesellschaft_ a brother of the deceased is now publishing biographical notes and literary remains—novels and poems—all more of a psychological than literary interest. The biographical notes plainly mark out a personality smitten with psychosis and suffering in a marked degree with hyperæsthesia, and the literary remains reflect this mental condition; light-sensations especially playing an important rôle. His nervous system was too weak to assert itself permanently against the outer world. This pressure, which objectively considered was not at all a powerful one, did not admit of the rise of a powerful sense of life; and especially oppressive to the precocious youth was the life of the school in the most varied ways, and in an unexpected moment the flame of his life went out.

As psychologists, we should find considerable interest in the study of this phenomenon of Ludwigs. We must admire his abilities and his capacity for work, which not only enabled him to perform his duties as a student of the gymnasium, but also left him time enough, in addition to his literary work, to employ himself with the psychological writings of Wundt and Münsterberg, which he desired to turn to account in the field of poetry. We must mourn too his sad fate. But we have no reason to _glorify_ such a diseased personality, as is done on many sides in the April number of _Die Gesellschaft_.

But this is a peculiar characteristic of the Young-German writers and their confrères abroad, that they make the diseased take the place of the sound, and the ugly of the beautiful, and thus help greatly to undermine the health of the common mind. There are it is true a goodly number of trusting souls who believe that we may regard with security and composure, the endeavors and tendencies of the naturalistic apostles, as our taste in literature and art—a few cases excepted—can surely not be reversed into its opposite. On this point, perhaps, those who so think are not wrong. But the stage may easily be reached where literary taste no longer remains determinative, and the place of the æsthetical interest in things is taken by the scientific, before whose judgment-seat no difference of the beautiful and the hideous exists.

This view is the direct outcome of philosophical materialism. The latter doctrine may at present, it is true, be regarded in all its main points as definitively overthrown, so far as philosophy is concerned; but in the domain of _belles lettres_—a term not quite allowable here—the wave which it has created still sweeps mightily onward. Two new works seek to break its force, which have been published in the series _Gegen den Materialismus_ edited by Dr. Schmidkunz (Stuttgart: Krabbe). The first treatise bears the title _Materialismus und Æsthetik_ and has no less a person as author than MORIZ CARRIÈRE; the second treats of _Materialism in Literature_ and is the production of the northerner OLA HANSSON. I am unable to say that these two treatises have especially satisfied me. Both authors look at the subject too one-sidedly from the point of view of æsthetics, and have not by far given a sufficient recognition to the psychological aspect of the subject. I recognise indeed with Carrière, in spite of all the apparent mutability of taste, a normative æsthetics; but that man bears within him an ideal of life, as the seed does the plant with its blossom and its fruit, I am unable for psychological reasons to concede. I grant that I find with Ola Hansson psychology is so far poorly represented in the naturalistic literature as the growth and evolution of character is made to appear a much too simple process; and I concede furthermore that the evolution of character in the individual case is very far removed from anything like resemblance to an example in mathematics, inasmuch as quantities may be lacking us in such a case which are absolutely necessary to be taken account of for a correct solution of the problem; but these missing quantities need not for that reason be at all matters of mystery, in their true nature wholly unknown to us.