Chapter XXIX: Part 29

To what limits the domain of mystery has shrunk and to how great an extent its expressions may be made intelligible and to a certain degree even may be “regulated,” provided, equipped with thorough knowledge, we courageously look the things in the face, is exemplified in a marked degree by a voluminous work of the above mentioned Dr. Schmidkunz. The so-called Suggestion passed for a long time as something wonderful and had to rest its defence in the hands of the representatives of a psycho-physical mysticism as opposed to a “surface”-psychology which in the words of Du Prels occupied itself exclusively with surface work without penetrating to the depths. SCHMIDKUNZ now points out in his _Psychologie der Suggestion_ (Stuttgart, 1892: Ferdinand Enke) in a very comprehensive manner what others had very plainly hinted at before him, namely, that in the case of a very great number of phenomena we have, exactly viewed, to deal only with some very simple and quite explainable things which unite in the composition of what is commonly called suggestion. The contents of the work, however, are not exhausted with this; under the influence of a tremendous scope of reading, the author treats the whole domain of suggestion, and if he understood more perfectly the art of good writing, he would have earned a much greater gratitude than that which in any event is his due.

Schmidkunz touches repeatedly in his work upon a domain which still belongs to the most obscure of the history of civilisation, namely witchcraft and the trials of witches. This topic, likewise viewed from a psychological point of view, forms the subject of a special treatise by SNELL, entitled _Hexenprocesse und Geistesstörung_ (Munich, 1891: J. F. Lehmann). In this book no rôle is ascribed to suggestion, but as the title indicates the treatment centres about the question of what significance mental disorders generally may have possessed in the trials of witches. The author concedes that demented persons became the victims of the trials for witchcraft either because they had rendered themselves by their character open to the suspicion of a compact with the devil, or because they had by self-obtrusion directly drawn upon themselves this persecution, but asserts nevertheless, that the number of demented persons that fell victims to the trials for witchcraft, was comparatively very small. Mental disorder however played in so far a great rôle in the trials for witchcraft as demented persons, especially such as suffered from hysteria, became false witnesses and brought sound and healthy people into the hands of the persecuting judges.

As I am now treading the province of psychiatry, I will mention, that WILHELM GRIESINGER’S celebrated work _Pathologie und Therapie der psychischen Krankheiten_ has just been published in its fifth edition under the direction of Dr. Levinstein-Schlegel, the director of the Maison de Santé in Schöneberg (Berlin: August Hirschwald). I do not of course specify this work solely for the sake of the physicians who may be readers of _The Monist_, but am rather impelled to the act by a universal psychological consideration, for Griesinger in the first edition of the work also made a name for himself as a psychologist. It appeared originally in 1845, and possessed a compass of 396 pages; the fifth edition numbers 1100 pages and has increased considerably in size as compared with the fourth. Whether the augmentations have added anything to the value of the work is a question which must first be submitted for answer to our physicians. In psychological respects its value has in so far been very much increased as the experiential data have assumed much greater proportions: the psychological analysis however has been somewhat neglected.

Psychological analysis in fact is not the strong side of the majority of our psychiatrists. What Griesinger and still more so Spielmann sought after in this direction, has been greatly forced in the background. As a general rule our inquirers content themselves with a description of symptoms and the construction of a more than copious nomenclature, in the midst of which the connections are Very easy to be overlooked. Among the commendable exceptions is to be named in this respect the well-known Vienna professor THEODOR MEYNERT. In addition to his extensive psychiatrical works he has also published a considerable number of lectures and discourses partly in magazines and partly in separate brochures. These discourses are now presented in collected form in a book entitled _Sammlung von populärwissenschaftlichen Vorträgen über den Bau una die Leistungen des Gehirns_ (Vienna, 1892, Wilhelm Braumüller). The most noticeable discourses are the following: The Significance of the Brain for the World of our Ideas; The Mechanics of the Cerebral Structure; On the Feelings; On Illusion; On the Significance of the Development of the Forehead; The Mechanics of Physiognomy; Brain and Culture; The Co-operation of the Parts of the Brain; On Artificial Disturbances of the Psychic Equilibrium. No words need be wasted in the recommendation of the book of Meynert.

CHR. UFER.

DIVERSE TOPICS.

PROFESSOR HAECKEL’S MONISM.

There are two Latin proverbs which are both good rules for controversialists who seek for the truth on different roads. The one reads: _In verbis simus faciles dummodo conveniamus in re_, the other reads: _In verbis simus difficiles ut conveniamus in re_. A difference of terms often prevents two thinkers from noticing that they actually agree. Therefore let us be lenient in terms and never lose sight of their meaning and purport. On the other hand terms are not indifferent, and the selection of terms should not be regarded as arbitrary. In order to arrive at a solid and permanent agreement, permanent because it is based upon objectively demonstrable truth, we have to be scrupulously careful with our terminology; and we must not allow the arbitrary employment of terms where they are inappropriate. An inappropriate usage of terms will lead us astray and involve us in confusion and error.

Says Professor Haeckel:

“The divergences which exhibit themselves in our respective
unitary conceptions of the world are in part only apparent
and in part occasioned by the divergent significances of our
fundamental ideas.”

This seems to me very true and, indeed, I have very good evidence that it is true. Professor Haeckel writes in his letter to me:

“I have marked in _red_ those passages of your kind review of
my ‘Anthropogeny’ in which I agree with you and in _blue_ those
in which I differ.”

Now I find all those passages where I should have anticipated an objection on Professor Haeckel’s part marked red, while a blue mark appears where in my opinion there is only a difference of terminology. It is the following sentence on page 441:

“Psychic life is absent so far as we can see in the primordial
world-substance as it appears in the form of a nebula; it is
absent still in the primordial state of planets. It appears
with the subjective states of awareness that rise into
existence in organised life. The subjectivity of unorganised
matter is, in comparison with man’s subjectivity, to be
considered as a blank; i. e., if there is in it a state of
awareness, which we have reasons to doubt, it is apparently
without meaning; it does not symbolise external objects;
it is no mind; it is, as it were, blind. Yet the aim of
evolution being the development of psychical life, shows that
the subjectivity of unorganised matter is spiritual in its
innermost nature.”

This difference is probably a difference of terminology only, for I insist most strongly on the doctrine that all nature is alive. However, I make a difference between “life” and “soul.” Nature is alive throughout, but it is not ensouled; the action of chemical elements and of the falling stone are no psychical actions.[83]

Another blue stroke appears at the following passage:

“We grant willingly that mechanical explanations will serve
for all motions that take place in the world; even the motions
of the brain take place in strict obedience to the laws of
molar and molecular mechanics. But a mechanical explanation
is not applicable to that which is not motion. If it were
applicable it would not be desirable, for it would be of no
avail. Mechanical explanations are to be limited to mechanical
phenomena. Feeling however is not a mechanical phenomenon,
and an idea, being a special and a very complex kind of a
feeling, or rather and more accurately expressed, being the
special meaning of a very complex feeling, is not a mechanical
phenomenon either.”

The subsequent sentences are again approved by Professor Haeckel; they are marked red:

“It is true that when a feeling takes place and when an
idea is thought in the brain of an organised being, that a
certain nervous action takes place. The nervous action is
a motion and this motion represents a definite amount of
energy. There is no theoretical difficulty, although there are
almost insurmountable practical difficulties, in measuring
the definite amount of potential energy that is changed into
kinetic energy when a man thinks. Yet the brain-motion is not
the idea and by a mechanical explanation of the brain-motion
we have not even touched the problem of what the nature of the
idea is, why ideas originate and how they act.”

We do not understand how Professor Haeckel can object to the view that ideas and feelings are no motions. We fully grant that the nervous action that takes place when an idea is thought is a motion, and that, considered as a brain-action, it is mechanically explainable. But by feeling we understand not the brain-action but a state of awareness, and states of awareness are not objective phenomena, they are subjective phenomena; whereby we do not at all deny that there are no feelings which must not in their objective existence at the same time be supposed to be brain-motions.

Feelings are not motions but ideas are still less motions. Ideas are the meanings which certain feelings that are representative of certain sets of experiences have acquired. Is the meaning of a word a motion? Can the significance of words be mechanically explained? The meaning of ideas, the significance of words, the representativeness of feelings are phenomena which have nothing to do with motions but constitute a domain of their own.

Professor Haeckel in our opinion can mean only that there are no feelings in themselves, but all our feelings are at the same time brain-motions, and as such they are mechanical phenomena. We have to add, however, that an explanation of the mechanism of brain-action does not as yet explain the significance of mental operations.

Professor Haeckel insists so strongly upon his view of monism as being mechanicalism that this seems to mark a difference in our conceptions which might be of consequence.

I was very glad to notice the long strokes of red along the passages which contain my proposition that “the evolution of organised life is a natural process having a definite aim”; further, along the paragraphs concerning the world-order as being moral in so far as the world-order is the basis of morality, and also those which represent God as being that power of the world-order obedience to which is called morality.

Professor Haeckel’s agreement with these passages indicates that those expressions of his to which we should take exception, and which he employs again in his article of the present number, might not be regarded as divergences.

Professor Haeckel’s definition of God appears to us insufficient, and also his definition of immortality.

God is not only the sum-total of matter and force, God is also that quality of the world which the naturalist describes in natural laws. God is the life of the world, he is that feature of existence which makes mind and knowledge possible. In addition he is that which men call progress, the ideal of the future that lives in our souls and the principle of evolution in nature.

There is a deeper truth too in the doctrine of immortality. There is a conservation of matter and energy, but there is also a preservation of soul. Says Professor Haeckel, “the human soul is a very highly developed vertebral soul.” If that is so, the soul of our fossil ancestors continues to live in us. This soul has been altered, it is true, but the alterations are not so much a loss as a gain. The alterations consist in the additional growth of new powers and represent a higher development. All that which was worth preserving has been preserved.

And as it has been in the past, so we can confidently expect that it will be in the future. All that is worth preserving of our souls will be preserved in the ages to come. Our souls will live and develop to higher possibilities. They will be transmitted from generation to generation, advancing on the unlimited path of evolutionary progress.

P. C.

FOOTNOTES:

[83] We intend to express our views more fully in a special article to be published in a subsequent number of _The Monist_.

THE RELIGION OF SCIENCE.

There was during the last winter great excitement in Germany, concerning a new school-bill proposed by the chancellor Caprivi, and the late Prussian minister of cultus, Zedlitz-Trützschler. This school-bill proposed to take the direction of the public schools out of the hands of scientific men and transfer it to the clergy. The idea of the Emperor was to let the education of the young be guided in a religious spirit. He intended to wage a war against atheism.

Among the pamphlets which were written during the crisis, is especially noteworthy the monograph of the late minister of cultus, Herr von Gosler, whom we should count among the most conservative of Prussian officials. His opposition, accordingly, is the more remarkable, and his objections had much weight with the Emperor.

The Emperor has withdrawn the bill. Nevertheless, the spirit of ultra-conservatism, which shows itself in an outspoken hostility against science, still remains strong enough, and new onslaughts upon the progressive policy in school and church, may be expected in the future. The question is timely still and will remain timely until there be a common agreement concerning the principles of education, so that our school politics may no longer be decided by and subjected to partisan strife.

Attacks that are made upon the very spirit of the institution of our civilisation and the political crises following thereupon are beneficial in one respect. They make people pause; they make them reconsider the principles by which they allow their conduct to be regulated. They make men conscious of the maxims that ought to underlie their lives and which generally are accepted by the majority without much reflection. The Prussian school-bill has indeed exercised a wholesome influence, for it called attention to the importance of principles and roused the German nation from religious indifference. During the conflict many scientists and professors of universities, who as a rule interfere little with politics, have raised their voice in warning, and many valuable ideas were expressed that found a strong echo in the heart of the people.

There are two articles written by German professors which have commanded very wide attention inside and outside of Germany. The one article was written by Professor Haeckel of Jena, in the _Freie Bühne_, the most important passages of which appeared at the time in _The Open Court_, No. 243. The other article was written by Friedrich Jodl, of Prague. It appeared first in the Augsburger _Allgemeine Zeitung_, and was republished in pamphlet form by Cotta, in Stuttgart. The former is an enthusiastic appeal to let science, which is the basis of our civilisation, remain the basis of our educational maxims in schools and universities. The latter discusses the philosophical principles of the conflict.

We are greatly in sympathy with the spirit in which Professor Jodl has treated his subject. Nay, more, we substantially agree with him concerning all main facts, and also concerning the sense in which our future development should be directed. Nevertheless there are points of disagreement, which we consider of sufficient importance to point out and explain.

The ultra-conservative party stands upon the platform that there can be no morality without religion, and no religion without dogmatism. For this reason dogmatism should rule supreme in the schools, and science should be subservient to religious creed. That this means curtailment of the freedom of investigation, and the suppression of the liberty of science, is understood by all the parties concerned. The liberals so apprehend it, and the ultra-conservatives do not deny it. In the face of this situation Professor Jodl proposes the question, “Is there a humanitarian morality possible?” (p. 8 of the pamphlet “Moral, Religion, und Schule.”) He says:

“A mere glance into the numerous anthologies of the moral
wisdom of all times and centuries, shows that the agreement
concerning moral ideas and norms is much greater, and it
recedes much more into the dim past than is usually assumed.
The writings of Laotse and Confutse, the popular literature
of Buddhism, the fragments of old Egyptian law, the didactic
poetry of Islam, contain a great wealth of moral wisdom, and
treasures of the noblest ethical sentiment which the Christian
Occident likes to regard as its own exclusive property.
Especially the ancients, whose civilisation, in spite of much
opposition, is still the basis of our civilisation, furnish us
with a series of the most beautiful moral types and ideals,
and there we find, beside many valuable features of Christian
ethics, other no less valuable gems which we seek for in vain
in the old Christian morality, and which were not recognised
until Christianity came into contact with the Teutonic nations
of northern Europe. Our ultra-conservatives argue that without
catechisms humanity would stand helpless before the question of
what is right and wrong, and what the growing generation should
be taught in order to make them useful and honorable members of
society.”

In opposition to these views Professor Jodl urges that

“If society of to-day can at all tolerate that such doctrines
as Christian morality are taught in our schools as the
foundation of practical conduct of life, this is possible only
because the ethics of the old biblical Christianity has, in
the course of centuries, grown to be something quite different
from what it was in the beginning. The throughout communistic,
labor-abhorring, world-hating, miracle-infatuated morality of
original Christianity, constantly dreaming of the collapse
of the world near at hand, and suited only to the demands of
the paupers of the time, could only be changed and adapted
to the conditions of later periods of radically different
conditions, with great difficulty. The Catholic church has
done much to accomplish this purpose, and in a still higher
degree Protestantism has made many concessions to humanitarian
ethics and practical reason. These concessions, however, must
appear from the historical standpoint, as adulterations of the
Christian ideas. Exactly in the degree that Christian morality
in modern times has remained a living power, it has ceased
to remain Christian in the historical sense.... The tendency
of the whole development of the modern world is to conceive
the moral norms as natural conditions of human society, and
to understand them in their connection of the individual with
the whole. This thought and sentiment must become in the child
a living power, and morality cannot expect in this respect
help from religion. Religion knows only the relation of the
individual to God, as it is expressed in the mystical ideas of
sin and mercy. Religion knows no duties and goals for humanity,
but only for the egotistic desire of salvation for the
individual. Religion knows no progress, no evolution, but only
eternal life or eternal damnation. The civilised nations of
Europe had to go through with many hard struggles in order to
arrive at the idea that there is a humanitarian, and a natural,
morality, in comparison with which all religious dogmatism must
be considered as indifferent additions. Only on the basis of
this conviction is it possible that there exist to-day so many
religious confessions of faith, and among them also those
who are religious without having any special confession. Here
lies the great duty of our time for enlightened legislation,
for our schools, to take care that the universal Christian
be developed from the narrow dogmatism, and, further, the
universal human ideal, from the universal Christian. To expect
this of the clergy of the different religious societies, would
be a mistake.... The theological spirit and the principle of
free investigation, are irreconcilable adversaries. Every
religion, of whatever denomination it may be, is stable in its
very nature. It pretends to be eternal truth, and whenever it
compromises with the idea of progress, it does so reluctantly,
and in the form of concessions.”

We agree with Professor Jodl in his opinion that our present dogmatic religions are entirely unfit to understand the demands of the present. And it is true that the humanitarian ideas of morality have been slowly developed from the crude and immature notions of the apostolic times. The aim of our moral development must be humanitarian ethics. But we disagree with professor Jodl that we cannot expect a further evolution of our moral ideas from the clergy.

It seems to me that here lies the important difference between the old and the new world. Conditions favor religious progress in America, while the conditions in Europe cut off all hope and produce an ominous stagnancy.

The clergy of the old world, in Germany as well as in England, and in all Catholic countries, are appointed only on the condition of being ultra-conservative in religious matters, as well as otherwise. No young man whose enthusiasm would carry him so far as to suggest reforms on broader humanitarian principles, would be admitted in the church as ministers. And if he had been admitted by mistake, he would meet with a fate similar to that of the Abbé Lamennais, whose experiences are admirably described by George Julian Harney, in No. 213 of _The Open Court_.

The situation is greatly different in America. Our clergymen, our congregations, our churches, are perhaps more orthodox in many respects, and especially in their belief, than those of Europe. Nevertheless, they are more liberal in principles, and they are less obstinate concerning dogma. Most of our churches here do not even possess dogmatic creeds, or confessions of faith. The clergy of the Baptists, the Congregationalists, the Unitarians, are not bound by oath before taking orders; to believe in sundry articles and to preach certain doctrines which are supposed to be absolute truth. The Baptists, it is true, are as a rule very orthodox and very dogmatic, but they are liberal in spite of it, open to conviction, and not averse to going onward with the times. This attitude of the American clergy must appear inconsistent to Europeans who can, in ecclesiastical affairs, only judge from their own experiences. And it may be that their position is as much inconsistent as was for instance that of Newton, who considered the trash he wrote on some theological questions concerning the apocalypse as infinitely superior to his mathematical and astronomical works and did not see that the recognition of the law of gravitation would go far toward freeing humanity from many of those nonsensical ideas which he cherished so highly.

In former times I was inclined to blame the clergy for the lack of progressiveness in the churches, but I have come to the conclusion that not the clergy are to be blamed for retarding the broadening of the religious spirit, but the lay-members of the churches. I am personally acquainted with several clergymen of different denominations, Christian as well as Jewish, who conceive it their duty to point out the way of progress and to further the spirit of a scientific world-conception in religious matters. They advance exactly as quickly and exactly as far as they can in working out of the narrow dogmatism of the religious views of their flock the ideas of a broad humanitarianism.

It has often happened that clergymen, encouraged by their congregations, have grown too broad in the opinion of their narrower brethren, and it was customary, in former years, to cast them out according to the old fashion of dealing with heretics, which is still customary in European churches. The churches have become more careful here, for, whenever such a case happened, these liberal clergymen were, as a rule, not deserted by their congregations. Thus every act of removing a clergyman usually led to a schism, and it seems that, at least to some extent, the churches have of late given up their policy of removing heretics within their ranks.

This much is certain, that many among the American clergy are ready to progress with the times, and to accept the truth wherever they find it. In Europe religion is dictated to the people from above by government and church authority. The clergymen are servants of these authorities. Their consciences are not bound, as they ought to be, to teach the truth and nothing but the truth, but to teach the doctrines which their employers bid them teach. And this policy is still considered right and natural, even among liberal minded people.

In America the clergy are exponents of the views of their congregations. In Europe the congregations are separated from their pastors by a deep gap: there is no gap between the congregation and the clergy in America. Both are in the closest contact. Our congregations are more orthodox than European congregations; therefore our clergy is more sincerely orthodox, and more honestly narrow, than the European clergy. The European clergy are more scholarly, yet at the same time there may be more hypocrites among them in Europe who know better than they preach. But there is no doubt that with a further development of intellectuality and scientific insight, our congregations will become broader and more liberal and more humanitarian, and, with the congregations, our clergy are bound to develop in the same lines.

European theology is much superior to American theology in scholarly critique, in historical investigation, and in philosophical depth. Nevertheless, we must not hope from European theologians that they will undertake the great work of reform that is so much needed in our churches, which is nothing less than to reconcile religion with science; to let religion develop into a religion of science, preaching boldly and unreservedly those humanitarian ethics which stand upon the principles of truth; that is, of scientifically proved truth, which finds the sanction of the moral “ought” in the facts of experience.

Professor Jodl says:

“The main objection of the supporters of dogmatism in school
politics is this: They propose it is not so much religion that
is needed in education; not the contents of ecclesiastical
doctrines, but to give to morality a foundation; to give it
what science calls the sanction of ethical rules.... From this
standpoint, every attempt that is liable to weaken the ethics
of religious sanction must appear equivalent to the attempt of
abolishing criminal law and penal institutes, and to deliver
the peaceful citizens into the hands of murderers and robbers.”

Professor Jodl continues:

“The nature of religious sanction consists in this: that the
moral rules are conceived as the behests of an all-powerful,
omniscient being, that promises to immortal man for their
fulfilment, eternal rewards, and for their non-fulfilment
eternal punishment in the life beyond.”

In opposition to this view Professor Jodl maintains that

“Man’s morality, on the one hand, has never been preserved from
error by an outlook into the beyond of heaven and hell, and, on
the other hand, there have never been missing those impulses
that originate in the depths of human nature working in the
line of moral ideas.”

These impulses are, according to Professor Jodl, the purely moral sanction of conscience. And conscience is represented as, and in another place called, “the natural sanction of morality.”

This view of regarding conscience as the natural sanction of morality does not appear to us as a happy expression, and it seems to us that Professor Jodl did not intend it as it might be understood. For Professor Jodl speaks in another passage of “the natural impulses of morality as having their sanction in _experience_.”

If that be so, conscience would not be the ultimate authority, but conscience would have to be regulated and corrected by a rationalised experience.

If “the natural impulses of morality have their sanction in experience,” the ultimate authority would be the facts represented in experience; and the facts of experience, in their totality, are nothing more or less than the whole universe with its natural laws and conceived in its cosmical order. The universe, the All, nature, or whatever you call it, is indeed an omnipotent reality which man cannot resist, and in which he can live only by adapting himself to its laws. If this ultimate authority of the natural laws be called by the religious term “God,” we shall see at once that the old dogmatic religions express a very deep truth in mythological language. The ultimate sanction of morality is not our conscience, but that omnipotent power which resides in the objective world of realities, in the cosmical order of the universe.

We might as well say that everybody shall regard his watch as the ultimate standard of time as to make his conscience the criterion of morality. May everybody use his watch wisely and regulate it well. And so may everybody revise his conscience and investigate diligently whether it agrees with the laws of that all-power of which we are a small part and through which alone we exist.

Professor Jodl praises very highly the French institution of a so-called purely moral instruction in the public schools. Father H. Gruber, however, points out some serious shortcomings in this system of moral education, resulting from a lack of principle. (See _Stimmen aus Maria-Laach_, Freiburg i. B., 1892, No. 4.)

It is apparent that moral commands cannot be based upon purely subjective notions or ideals, they must be based upon some objective authority which is a power that enforces obedience. Such a power exists. It is the world in which we live. It is that All-being of which we are a part. And that feature of nature which enforces that conduct which we call moral is named God in the terminology of religious language.

A consideration like this points out the way to a reconciliation between science and religion. There is a truth in the old religions, and this truth need only be purified from the errors that cluster about it, hiding its grandeur, beauty, and importance. Let the church and its authorities recognise science and the principle of free investigation; let them be ready to accept the scientific methods of research; let them be willing to accept truth as it can be proved by arguments and verified by experience as well as by experiments; and we need no longer worry about dogmatism and the narrowness of their sectarian doctrines. All these accidental features of religion will, then, pass away, and we shall have a religion which the scientist and the philosopher can embrace.

This is what we call the Religion of Science; and the Religion of Science is bound to be the religion of the future. The Religion of Science will not abolish the religions of the past, but it will develop them, broaden them, perfect them, into the cosmical religion of humanitarianism.

To teach an ethics that either has no sanction, or whose sanction is built upon the diverging opinions of individuals, will not do. Ethics must be based upon the sanction of some objective authority, and the recognition of an objective authority, of a power which enforces a certain kind of conduct, being religion, we say that no ethics can be without a religious basis.

The problem at present is not how to teach irreligious ethics—all such attempts are failures at the start; but to change the mythology of the old religions into a clear, scientific conception of the natural conditions which demand of man that he should observe those rules which we are wont to call moral.

P. C.

THE FUTURE POSITION OF LOGICAL THEORY.

In last October’s number of _The Monist_, Professor John Dewey gives a sketch of what in his view is “the present position of logical theory.” According to this the basis of the position seems to be that “the only possible thought is the reflection of the significance of fact,” and that therefore logic, which is the science of the laws of thought, rests in reality on an objective basis. He supports Hegel in denying “the existence of any faculty of thought which is other than the expression of fact itself.” Now it is doubtless the case that this is the position at present taken up by a large number of logicians, but as this position seems to me to be fundamentally erroneous I should like to put before your readers what I hope will be “the future position of logical theory.” I have elsewhere worked out in some detail a theory of reasoning which differs from that commonly accepted chiefly in this, that it recognises not two, but three kinds of reasoning, which I call Objective, Subjective, and Symbolic. Reasoning is commonly divided into two branches, denoted by various pairs of terms, such as Objective and Subjective, Inductive and Deductive, Empirical and Formal. The lines of division indicated by these various pairs of terms are not quite identical; but they none of them indicate what seems to me the most important distinction of all, namely that between real, and symbolic argument. There _does_ exist (I will not say a “faculty of thought,” but) a method of argument which “is other than the expression of fact itself,” whether of objective or of subjective fact. The term “formal reasoning” is indeed often used to denote this kind of argument, but this is a bad name to give it, since it seems to imply, and frequently is held to imply, that it deals with the _forms_ of objective or subjective facts, whereas in reality it deals only with symbols, which are arbitrarily defined, and which do not necessarily correspond to any things whatever, whether objective or subjective. That this kind of argument not only exists, but flourishes is evident as soon as it is grasped that pure mathematics is nothing but a branch of symbolic logic. It may be that there exists somewhere a fact of which any conceivable mathematical formula might be regarded as the reflexion, but it must surely be evident that it was not to the reflexion of such facts that mathematical formulæ in general owe their existence or validity. It may perhaps be true “that fact, reality is significant,” and even that thoughts are themselves such significant realities, but it is the thoughts that are given to us first, or rather sensations which are the elements of thoughts, and we can only infer the realities from them, and not _vice versa_.

The essence of my theory of logic may be briefly stated thus. The meaning of a logical term contains two parts, its denotation and its connotation. Either of these parts may be laid down arbitrarily as its _definition_, leaving the other part which I call its _import_ to be found out by experience. To understand both parts of the meaning of any term is therefore to possess real knowledge. Pure symbolic reasoning deals only with the definitions of terms, and is not therefore founded on real knowledge, nor can it alone ever lead to real knowledge. Thus if in any proposition the definitions of the terms are deducible from one another, the proposition may be proved symbolically and is what I call a truism: it gives no real information. But if the definitions of the terms are independent of each other, and yet not inconsistent, the proposition can only be intended to assert the identity of the imports of the terms; it therefore ascribes import to the terms and gives real information, whether true or false. If any terms in a symbolic argument are however known to have real import, it may be ascribed to them in real propositions, and any conclusions of the argument which contain only such terms will _ipso facto_ be made to yield real information, which may be new in the sense that it was not before recognised, though it was of course implied in the real assertion or assertions which ascribed import to the terms of the symbolic argument.

It is in this way possible to separate any science into two branches, one of which consists purely of symbolic argument founded on definitions alone, while the other may be expressed in a series of propositions, the definitions of whose terms are independent of each other, and which ascribe real import (whether objective or subjective) to the terms of the symbolic science, or some of them.

This is as far as pure logic can go. The question how the truth of any real propositions comes to be known is not, in my opinion, any part of logical theory, but belongs to metaphysics. However that is no reason for not discussing it here, especially as it is the chief question discussed in Professor Dewey’s paper.

“Truth” means some sort of consistency in a proposition. We may compare a symbolic argument to a game with counters, the rules of which are laid down arbitrarily, and to say that a given conclusion of such an argument is true only means that the game has been “played fair.” But the truth of a real proposition does not depend on any arbitrary rules. It expresses a consistency between two real facts, either that two named groups of things possess certain common attributes, or that certain of the things possessing named groups of attributes are identical. The essential element of all real knowledge is then a connecting link between a thing and an attribute, such as is afforded by a well-understood word.

Now the only “things” which we can apprehend directly are our subjective sensations and conceptions. We can compare two or more sensations or conceptions, and recognise in them common attributes. Thus I can say of my own knowledge that the sensations I denote by “the taste of sugar” and “the taste of lead acetate” have a common attribute, which I call “sweetness.” This is a real assertion, for its truth is not deducible from the definitions of its terms, and yet I know, by direct apprehension, that it is true. But it is only a subjective truth. The corresponding objective assertion would be sugar and acetate of lead both produce, when tasted, the sensation of sweetness. And I have no direct apprehension of this fact. That the tastes referred to in the former proposition were produced by objective things denoted by the terms sugar and acetate of lead, can only be inferred by the process called induction, which can never lead to a positive or necessary truth.

Thus we may from a pure symbolic science proceed one step further, to a subjective science, by the aid of direct apprehension, and the results of such a subjective science may in certain cases attain the position of absolute, or necessary truths. But on the other hand, all objective sciences must rest on induction. Now the true nature of induction is, I am persuaded, commonly misapprehended, because it is not realised sufficiently clearly that the prime data of induction are not themselves objective, but subjective facts. An “objective fact” is really only an hypothesis, postulated to account for certain of our subjective sensations. The only justification for making such an hypothesis is that it actually does explain certain sensations, and the measure of its probability (for we can never assert it as a necessary certainty) is the number and complexity of the sensations which it accounts for. The first of all such objective hypotheses is that we have an objective environment to whose action our sensations, or some of them, are due. This suggests at once a more general hypothesis, commonly known as the law of causation, namely that the conditions obtaining in the objective universe at any one moment are the effective causes of those obtaining at the next, and so at any subsequent moment. These two hypotheses, together with certain subsidiary ones, do suffice to account for an enormous number, if not all, of our sensations, and so we are justified in entertaining them. But to leave out the notion of _effective_ causation, and to substitute a mere rule of sequence, is to remove the only justification we have for assuming the hypothesis of causation at all. It is perhaps conceivable that the hypothesis may be false, that our sensations are not “caused by” an objective environment but if so what reason remains for believing in that environment at all? I can never know anything whatever about an objective universe, unless some of my sensations about which alone I know anything directly, are caused by that universe. It is perhaps thinkable that there should be an objective universe in which events occur which in no sense _cause_ my subjective sensations, but to which those sensations nevertheless happen to correspond; but if this is so the sensations afford me no ground whatever for believing in the occurrence of the events, or the objectivity of the universe.

Well then, the essence of induction is the assumption of an hypothesis to account for observed facts—first of all of directly observed sensations, and then of facts assumed to be objective in virtue of the primary hypothesis. That this account of induction is the true one is I think particularly enforced by the consideration of those cases to which at first sight it does not seem to apply. A common example of induction is afforded by our belief that the sun will rise to-morrow. That it has risen every morning for the last four thousand years or more is no reason whatever for believing that it will rise to-morrow, unless it is held to point to some explanatory hypothesis. Such an hypothesis has actually been framed by astronomers, and no one would now pretend to found his belief in the sun’s rising to-morrow on the mere fact that it has often risen before, but would go on to explain that it must rise unless the earth were to stop revolving, etc. If at Monte Carlo the red turned up ten times running, would that be any reason for expecting it to turn up again, the eleventh time? No, it would not unless the succession of reds seemed to point to some explanatory hypothesis, such as a defect in the roulette. Again, the fact that in the last fifty years the death rate in London has been about twenty-eight per thousand would be no reason for believing that it will be about that figure this year except on the assumption that the constancy of the death rate indicated certain constant causes, which we have no reason to believe have been altered this year.

Having once assumed that our environment is objective, and as a corollary the hypothesis of causation, the whole of physical science follows, step by step. Subsidiary hypotheses are introduced at each stage and justified by the way they account for observed results. To show how a single hypothesis is capable of explaining a large number of observed results, the full meaning of the hypothesis is elucidated by symbolic reasoning. By such reasoning it is for example shown that the same hypothesis, of universal gravitation, is capable of accounting, not only for the movements of the stars, but for the tides, the flow of rivers, the falling of unsupported bodies, the rising of balloons, the movements of the balance in Cavendish’s experiment, and so on. That such wide extensions of an hypothesis are possible tends greatly to confirm, not only the hypothesis itself, but the fundamental hypotheses of objectivity and causation also. But it does not prove either the one or the others. We cannot know anything about the objective universe with absolute certainty, but we may reasonably believe a certain hypothesis about it with any degree of conviction we think suitable; that is we may (and of course we actually do) act on all occasions _as if_ we knew absolutely that they were true.

We may then believe, and I for one do believe, not only in the objectivity of the universe, but that even my own subjective sensations are mere bye-products of that universe. I _believe_ that objective facts are, if I may so express it, more real than subjective sensations; that in fact the objective universe might have existed, and might exist again without any subjective element in it anywhere. But I cannot _know_ this, it is with me a matter of faith. Thus I cannot agree with Hegel, that “all possible thought is the reflexion of the significance of fact” (except perhaps in the sense that thought is the reflexion of the significance of certain changes in the grey matter of the brain) for this would seem to imply that stupid or contradictory thoughts reflected stupid or contradictory significance in certain facts. But I believe that men of science are gradually evolving a system of thought which will more and more faithfully reflect the significance of fact, and that thus science is actually building up truth. But all science must begin with, and be founded upon, subjective knowledge, and therefore any theory of positivism contradicts itself for it must be founded on faith. Science is thus founded on faith, faith in things not directly apprehended, just as truly as religion is. It is only because we unconsciously acquire this faith in our infancy, and that it is in most cases amply justified by subsequent experience, that we do not even recognise the fact that it is faith, in exactly the same sense that belief in God is. But just as men have sometimes lost their faith in God, so it may happen to a man to loose his faith in reality, and logic is quite as incapable of shaking a man out of the one position as out of the other.

This I take it is the key to the agnosticism of such men of science as Mr. Huxley. I do not for a moment suppose that Mr. Huxley believes less than most men; he probably has good grounds for believing a great deal more. Only he rightly refuses to say that he _knows_ facts of which he can have had no direct apprehension and which he can only infer more or less probably, to be true. Hypotheses which as we push our investigations are shown to be capable of explaining more and more facts, that is, ultimately, more and more sensations, will in the end come to be believed in without doubt or hesitation. If a man says he _knows_ the law of gravitation to be true, he commits a logical blunder; but there is nothing to prevent a scientific man from believing in any miracle or prodigy, so long as the account he gives of it does not contradict itself. Not only may two equally reasonable men form very different estimates of the probability of the same event, even with the same evidence before them, but one man may put his faith to a proposition with admittedly much lower degree of probability than would be required to convince another. Only, a scientific man will always distinguish between what he knows and what he believes, and will admit that though he has made up his mind to act _as if_ he knew to be true the propositions he only believes to be so, yet another man may reasonably take a different view of any one of them.

EDWARD T. DIXON.

Trin. Coll., Cambridge, Jan. 8, 1892.

COMTE AND TURGOT.

On page 410 of the last number of _The Monist_, it was stated that the doctrine of the three stages of knowledge was not properly a Comtean idea but belonged to Turgot. The following letter from Professor Schaarschmidt of Bonn informs us of the passages in Turgot where the statement of the doctrine is found:

_To the Editor of The Monist_:

To your note of inquiry of the 22d of last month I have the
honor to reply, that the Comtean theory of the _trois états_
may be traced back to utterances of Turgot made by him in his
_Second discours sur les progrès successifs de l’esprit humain
prononcé le 2me décembre 1750_—namely in the Sorbonne. You will
find the discourse referred to in the edition of the works of
Turgot which I now have before me, namely that of Guillaumin,
Paris, 1844, in Vol. II, at pages 597 et seqq. The passage in
question is found at p. 600-601. However, it is highly probable
that the so-called _loi des trois états_ was _directly_
transmitted to Comte by St. Simon, who reproduced the idea
of Turgot in his _Introduction aux travaux scientifiques du
XIXme Siècle_, at pages 62-63. For Comte was dependent in many
respects on St. Simon, while it is probable that he had never
studied Turgot. To St. Simon, in fact, is due the expression
“philosophie positive,” as well as the germ-notion of the
division of the Sciences, which Comte further elaborated.

SCHAARSCHMIDT.

BOOK REVIEWS.

DARWIN AND AFTER DARWIN. I. THE DARWINIAN THEORY. By _George John Romanes_, M. A., LL. D., F. R. S. London: Longmans, Green & Co. Chicago: The Open Court Publishing Co. 1892.

In the present work by Professor Romanes, who may be regarded as the special exponent of Darwin’s theory of organic evolution, we have a complete and systematic presentation of “Darwinism according to Darwin.” It is the outcome of a course of lectures delivered by the author in 1889 before the Royal Institution, London, and forms only part of a much more extensive treatise on the Darwinian theory, embracing the early history of biology, and a discussion of the further developments of the theory subsequent to the death of the great naturalist who gave it birth. The present part is limited to what is distinctly Darwinian, dealing with it and with the main objections raised against the general theory of organic evolution it enforces.

The subject naturally divides into two parts, and Professor Romanes accordingly deals with it in two sections, in the first of which he considers organic evolution as a fact, stating the main evidences in support of the doctrine, while in the second section he furnishes “the evidences which thus far have been brought to light touching the causes of organic evolution considered as a process.” The author points out in his introductory remarks, that in order to establish a theory of a continuous transmutation of species, which is what is meant by organic evolution, it is not necessary to furnish proof of _all_ the natural causes which have been at work. The issue is between the theory of a supernatural cause, as operating immediately in numberless acts of special creation, and the theory of “natural causes as a whole whether these happen, or do not happen, to have been hitherto discovered.” Moreover, the discussion is concerned only with the origin of species, and not with that of life, as to which the author says with truth, “although in the opinion of most biologists it is a question which we may well hope will some day fall within the range of science to answer, at present, it must be confessed, science is not in a position to furnish so much as any suggestion upon the subject; and therefore our wisdom as men of science is frankly to acknowledge that such is the case.”

The idea of evolution implies continuity, and the author refers to the fact that the uniformity of nature’s method in the production of phenomena to which continuity is due, recognised in other fields of science, strongly recommended the theory of organic evolution for acceptance on merely antecedent grounds. There is another important fact, from the antecedent point of view, to which Professor Romanes draws attention. He states it in the words of Mr. Wallace, who lays down as a general law that “every species has come into existence coincident both in space and time with a pre-existing and closely allied species.” This is a necessary consequence of natural evolution, but no reason can be assigned for it on the theory of special creation, and the existence of such a correlation may be regarded as a test-question between the two theories.