The deep shading of _Z_ indicates consciousness, and consciousness is

that form of subjectivity which constitutes our mind. _Z_ is not,

as Professor Romanes asserts that it is, a fixed quantity; it varies

greatly, as every one knows from his own experience. It is lowest

in trance or swoon or profound sleep. It is highest in the state of

concentrated attention. The ejective element, which we assume to be

present as a correlative concomitant in the objective world, we assume,

with Professor Romanes, varies greatly in the different parts of the

area _Y_. Like Professor Romanes, we also do _not_ assume the existence

of any unshaded _X_. There is no objectivity without its subjective

correlate. But, according to the theory of monism, the nature of the

concomitant subjectivity is not unknowable: it can be inferred from the

nature of objective existence. The subjectivity of the falling stone

is most elementary, and _not mental_; its action is not prompted by

meaning. That something which impels the stone to fall, and which science

calls gravity, does not possess any representative element. There is no

symbolism involved in gravity. There is no soul in the stone. The stone

is not incited to falling by any purpose; it has no end in view. Purpose

originates with and through the presence of representative symbols.

According to the theory of monism the shading of the surrounding zones is

not a matter concerning which we have to suspend our judgment. If monism

is true, we know very well how deeply we have to shade the different

phenomena of objective nature.

Taking this view, we object to Professor Romanes’s conclusion when he

says:

“Without in any way straining the theory of monism, we may

provisionally shade _X_ more deeply than _Z_, and this in some

immeasurable degree.

“Monism sanctions the shading of _X_ as deeply as we choose;

but the shading which it sanctions is only provisional.”

While the presence of mind in the phenomena of the stellar universe and

of inorganic nature must decidedly be denied, I would not, for that

reason, declare that monism is atheistic.

Monism is decidedly theistic although not anthropotheistic. It is

monotheistic in so far as it recognises that the all-existence in which

we live and move and have our being is the ἙΝ ΚΑΙ ΠΑΝ, the One and All.

But there is not the slightest reason for the theory, and there are

sufficient reasons against it, that the universe is possessed of a huge

world-ego, that it is a person or a mind.

We maintain on the one hand that the laws of nature are not designs

arranged With consciously preconceived purposes. Yet on the other hand,

we do not forget, that the world-order possesses quite definite features

and that the course of evolution runs in a very unmistakable direction.

We can plainly decipher its character, and the great religious teachers

of mankind have with a truly prophetic instinct proclaimed the ethical

injunctions to be derived therefrom—injunctions which, millenniums after

them, science has discovered to be founded in the nature of things.

God is no mind, yet God is mentality, the source of all mind: God is not

a spirit, but he is spirituality. The subjectivity of the universe from

which all consciousness rises is part of his being, and whatever that

subjectivity, considered as a whole, be or be not, that much is certain,

that in grandeur it corresponds to the objectivity of the world. It does

not think in symbols as a man does; it is not a mind: but it exists

nevertheless. Whatever it is like we learn from the revelation of its

appearance in objective existence, from the cosmic order, the laws of

nature, and the moral ideas of mankind.

Knowledge of nature means knowledge of God, for nature is God as he

appears and the objectivity of being is the revelation of God.

We would not limit God to the subjectivity of nature: God is both

subjectivity and objectivity combined. He is that All-power that is, was,

and will be, thus being the ultimate authority of conduct.

God is not a mind, he is more than a mind; God is not a system of

symbols, he is the reality symbolised in mind. He is not a person, he is

super-personal.

He who does not see that the God of monism is greater than the God

of anthropotheism, had better believe in a personal God, until he

appreciates the truth that God is not personal but super-personal. For

after all anthropotheism is nearer the truth than atheism, for atheism

(well understood, the atheism of our definition above) is a moral

nihilism devised to shake off all ethical obligation so as to make the

lust of the moment and the pleasure of the individual the supreme rule of

action.

Monism, accordingly, does not leave the problem of theism where it was

before. Monism proves that God is not to be conceived in the likeness

of man, but the reverse: man, being a system of symbols representing

the world, is to be conceived as having been made or rather as having

originated in the likeness of God. God is the original, man is the copy.

God is the whole, man is the part, in which the whole finds a more or

less correct representation. The picture is not perfect, but the grandest

duty a man has is the constant approach to a greater perfection. Man is

the temporal, God is the eternal. Man is limited, God is the infinite.

EDITOR.

FOOTNOTES:

[41] _The Monist_, Vol. II, No. 4.

[42] Spontaneous motion (as here defined) does not mean action without

a cause; nor does the spontaneity of the cart exclude the co-operation

of other spontaneities (_e. g._ the attraction of the earth) entering as

factors in bringing about the final result.

[43] This theory of pleasure and pain was first set forth in an editorial

article of No. 120 of _The Open Court_, which has been republished in

the chapter “Pleasure and Pain,” pp. 338-345, of _The Soul of Man_. A

correct view of the nature of pleasure and pain is of great importance,

especially in ethics. Notwithstanding the palpable erroneousness of the

old view, several articles written by prominent authors have appeared

of late, that continue in the old strain without taking notice of the

criticism that overthrows the basis of their theories.

[44] _Italics are ours._

[45] This same position is maintained with equal vigor in Professor

Romanes’s latest work _Darwin and After Darwin_, pp. 412-442. The Open

Court Publishing Co., 1892.

LITERARY CORRESPONDENCE.

I.

FRANCE.

Dr. Paul Sollier has just published, in the Bibliothéque

Charcot-Debove,[46] a new and excellent work, _Les troubles de la

memoire_. This work is not identical in its purpose with that of

M. Ribot; it corrects the latter in certain points, completes and

corroborates it in others. M. Sollier set out to discuss this question

solely from a medical standpoint, which was intentionally passed over

by M. Ribot, but he has also necessarily touched upon its psychological

aspects, and, as he informs us himself, he was obliged on the whole to

make a medico-psychological study of the question.

The subject is a vast one; one could include in it aphasia and all the

weaknesses resulting from the destruction of the brain-centres, whether

those of motion or of sensation. M. Sollier has taken the pains to reduce

it, however, to definite limits. He studies especially the subject of

acquired amnesia (diminutive changes and disaggregations of the memory).

He does not consider the subject of congenital amnesia, which is an

absence and not a loss of memory. Strictly considered, the only cases

of true amnesia, or _organic_ amnesia, are those which result from the

destruction of the nerve-centres, since in this case there is an absolute

loss of the power of forming mental images, and not simply an enfeebling

or forgetting of them, which is characteristic of _functional_ amnesia.

From a clinical standpoint amnesia exists only in the last case. Though

the effect may be the same in both cases, the causes are not identical.

Clinical investigation cannot, however, overlook the diminutive changes

which take place in the memory and which, as early as 1817, were called

by Louyer-Villermay dysmnesia, and which are always closely allied

to organic modifications of the brain. As regards amnesia itself, it

is important to distinguish simple amnesia from retrogressive and

progressive amnesia. M. Sollier explains the motive causes of these

different conditions with great lucidity, and renders them easy of

comprehension by means of ingenious illustrations.

I call attention to the information he gives us as to the conditions

under which a revival of mental images takes place, p. 30; to his

criticism of Ribot’s opinion, according to which the power of correctly

locating events in the scale of time is the true characteristic of

psychical memory: it is quite enough if it reproduces events as in

the past, that is to say if there exists a conscious knowledge which

shows that the mental conception belongs to the past, or is, simply, a

remembrance, p. 35 and 40; to his remarks on the strengthening of mental

images due to the repetition of remembrances, the necessary sequence of

which is that a weakening of old memories follows the destruction of

accumulated mental images, p. 48; to his explanation of the processes

of retrogressive amnesia (coming suddenly after an attack of vertigo,

a blow, etc.) which he bases upon a supposition of a group of mental

conceptions in touch with one another, in such a way that the loss of

one leading conception in a group deprives this group of sufficient

consistency to form a conscious synthesis, p. 70.

As regards the classifications of amnesia M. Sollier censures that of M.

Ribot as being neither openly psychological nor openly clinical, and of

taking successively as bases the extent of an observed phenomenon, its

evolution, its location in time. Moreover, from a clinical standpoint

it has led to a joining together of totally incongruous disorders. M.

Sollier therefore rejects it, and contents himself with adopting first of

all, with M. Falret, the natural classification of general amnesia and of

partial amnesia. Moreover, in taking account of the systematising of lost

remembrances, he proposes to make a distinction as to the two varieties

of systematised (functional) and of non-systematised (organic) amnesia,

considered from the purely psychological standpoint, p. 59. We should

thus have, firstly, the classification of general amnesia, including

(A) true organic amnesia (destruction of the centre of mental images),

and, under the classification of the systematised, (B) functional,

or apparent, amnesia (imperfect performance of the functions of the

centres): this latter subdividing into two groups, (_a_) amnesia with its

varieties (_a´_) simple, (_b´_) retrogressive, (_c´_) progressive, and

(_b_) paramnesia: (_a´_) that of locality, (_b´_) that of exactness; to

which it is proper to add (_c_) dysmnesia, which is organic-functional.

Secondly, the classification of partial amnesia whether systematised or

not, which may be either organic or functional. M. Sollier abandons,

moreover, every pathological or etiological classification as being

exceedingly unsatisfactory. In the presence of a patient, he justly

remarks, the physician can only employ semiology.—I will not enter

here into the details of the inquisitor-like investigation entered

upon by the author. I must even proceed without stopping through the

observations intended for medical men, which form the second part of the

work, but I judge that every reader will also find therein many facts

which may prove of interest. After having read it, one is more impressed

than ever with the importance and delicacy of the motive forces of the

memory, in noting the frequency and the varieties even of its sources of

weakness. M. Sollier has the credit of pointing them out—in the shape

of “defects in synthetical power” and in “will power”—in the sources of

weakness where one had not been accustomed to look for them. It would be

interesting, he thinks, to find out what part amnesia may perhaps take in

the pathogeny of certain nervous disorders, and the influence which it

has on their evolution. Specialists for the insane might find therein a

new subject of study, and psychology will profit, on the other hand, by

that which clinical experience offers it. Is not its main object to learn

to understand life as a unit at the same time that it analyses it as a

diversity?

* * * * *

When one passes from a book like that of M. Sollier to the work of M.

l’Abbé MAURICE DE BAETS, _Les bases de la morale et du droit_,[47]

one is impressed by the change of method. It has become impossible

for us to consider pathology as unallied to questions of morality; and

we have accomplished this great object of studying matters pertaining

to the moral world, the evolution of law, without seeking our base of

support in a religious faith or in a metaphysical affirmation. Even M.

l’Abbé de Baets himself declares emphatically that he desires to adopt

only one starting point from among those we are acquainted with,—the

verification of facts,—and truly he shows a good will and knowledge;

nevertheless the ground which he considers so firm has, as we believe,

no stability. All seems strange to us, if I may so speak, in books of

this description. The tone which is peculiar to them, the nature of the

facts cited, the progress of the reasoning, impeach them just as surely

as the blue color of his costume reveals afar off an inhabitant of the

Celestial Empire. I am not an impassioned adversary of the clergy; far

from it. I appreciate their intentions and esteem their persons as one

should, but I am unable to share their opinions, and I consider indeed

that they deceive themselves when they think that faith has ever given to

the world an absolute assurance. It has not given it because it has not

proved sufficient. Mankind, variable and vacillating though it may be,

does not change its beliefs because of fickleness of heart: its mental

evolution takes place too slowly for that, and is also too painful. The

Catholic church of to-day has adopted as its watch-word the return to

St. Thomas of Aquinas; it will gain by this unity of effort, without

succeeding however in leading back the minds of men to its point of view.

The diverse ways we follow tend doubtless as a matter of fact toward the

same objective point, and run more or less in the same direction; but

humanity scarcely ever passes back again over the paths which it has once

traversed.

* * * * *

We have another little volume by M. LOMBROSO, _Les applications de

l’anthropologie criminelle_; a sequel to _Nouvelles recherches_, which

I have mentioned before. We find here interesting pages in regard to

transportation and reform schools, and a criticism of the new theories

of the penal code (Garofalo, Tarde, Sighele, Onanoff and Blorg, Ferri)—a

part of the question considered in the Congress. A chapter indeed is

devoted to the subject of criminal anthropology in modern literature,

in regard to which it seems to me M. Lombroso always makes more of

a question than is desirable, but which he well understands how to

criticise. Then follow several pages on the criminal type in art, after

a work of Dr. Edward Lefort; then comes a description of anthropological

instruments and methods. I will not affirm that this last work brings us

much of novelty; it is chiefly a new and energetic presentation of his

views, and M. Lombroso has no doubt whatever that by dint of striking the

nail upon the head he will succeed in driving it into the wall of his

adversaries.

* * * * *

The work of M. B. BOURDON, _L’expression des emotions et des tendances

dans le langage_, is certainly one of the most curious books one can

read. He treats in an original manner of phonetical questions, which

are less rife in France than in England and Germany, as to what sounds

signify, or speech; what is their worth in intensity, elevation, form or

quality, duration; what phenomena are shown by successions of intensity,

of elevation, of elementary articulation, of syllables, of words, etc.,

of duration; what are the relations of these phenomena to versification

and what comparison one can make between writing and speech: such are the

problems particularly studied, at times with the aid of very simple but

instructive facts culled from experience.

These studies—I need scarcely add that they are comparative ones—are

of interest for various reasons. They lead up to new ideas of grammar

and of language, and furnish arguments for a reform in orthography of

which M. Bourdon is a very warm partisan. His readers will not be slow

to notice for the matter of that, that he is in regard to this frankly

revolutionary; and it may seem paradoxical to say to them, for example,

that “the distinction between analytical and synthetical languages is

absolutely artificial, and could only be produced through our bad systems

of writing.” Writing, M. Bourdon indeed remarks, introduces separations

in places where spoken language makes no pause. The English write _I

will go_, they pronounce it _Iwillgo_. The analysis which pertains to

writing masks the true cohesion of the spoken language, and “if in the

past all series of articulations had been written as a single word which

were in fact pronounced as a single word, we should not have known the

error which consists in opposing certain languages classed as synthetical

to others which we class as analytical.” The argument is perhaps not

a decisive one, and in the neo-Latin languages, for example, one can

scarcely deny that the analysis of the written language has conformed to

the work of decomposition of the antique forms, so as to adapt itself to

the new groupings of their essential elements, groupings wherein these

elements remain variable because speech separates them effectively, in

many cases by interpolating governing words or others.

But it is not my intention to enter into these detailed discussions.

I leave M. Bourdon in further calling attention to his last chapter,

_Ecriture_. Persons curious as to graphology will find in it some good

ideas concerning this method of “character reading.” The author does not

tell everything, and I have a suspicion that he greatly despises certain

signs valued by the graphologists, and arrived at empirically, but we

should note what he has actually said.

* * * * *

Under the title, _Le monde physique, Essai de conception expérimentale_,

M. Dr. JULIEN PIOGER offers to the public a sketch of a world-system.

This system is summed up in the expression of “Universal Solidarity,”

and is based on the idea of infinitely minute matter-particles, or

“infinitesimals,” the mutual relations of which, and their equilibrium,

constitute the machinery of the universe. The atomic-mechanical

hypothesis, says M. Pioger, is wrong in resolving matter into perfected

differential particles and in assigning to its atoms qualities which

make of them either true material corpuscules or a real entity, “a thing

in itself.” On the contrary, far from intending to assign a limit to

materiality, the hypothesis of infinitesimals confines itself to limiting

the conception which we may have of it. The infinitesimal corresponds

to the infinitely small, that is to say to the non-perfected, to the

non-differentiable, beyond our cognisance and our perceptivity; it

expresses the most reduced condition of the affinities which constitute

matter; it is the expression of the infinitesimal existence of that

which we call motion, extension, ponderability, under the general name

of matter. Now the most simple thing which can be conceived of in the

physical world, is the _couple_ formed by the essential equipoise of two

infinitesimals. In developing the couple it becomes possible to form the

universe in all its great variety. The solidarity of the parts in the

whole appears as the essential condition of existence of all that which

Is—the necessary condition of all individuality.

In conclusion I call attention to two new editions, one the well-known

work of M. BERNARD PÉREZ, _Les trois premières années de l’enfant_, fifth

edition, revised and supplied with an introduction by Mr. James Sully;

the other _Les functions du cerveau_, by M. JULES SOURY, a work highly

esteemed, embodying the most recent researches.

LUCIEN ARRÉAT.

FOOTNOTES:

[46] Rueff, publisher.

[47] This book and the following ones are published by F. Alcan.

II.

GERMANY.

One of our foremost psychiatrists, Professor v. Krafft-Ebing of Vienna,

says in his celebrated text-book on psychiatry: “If Pedagogy made a

more serious study of the character of man in his psychopathological

relations, many of the mistakes and severities of our system of education

would be removed, many an unsuitable choice of vocation would be left

unmade, and thus many a psychical existence rescued.”

Any one who is at all familiar with the most important doctrines of the

diseased phenomena of mental life, and who knows how frequently psychical

disturbances of a more or less serious nature occur during childhood,

will fully agree with Krafft-Ebing, and will only regret that pedagogy,

in this important direction, has completely neglected its task.

Although lately the necessity of psychiatric knowledge for the pedagogue

has been insisted upon in professional circles, for instance, by

Professor STRUEMPELL in his _Pedagogic Pathology_ (comp. _The Monist_ II,

106), yet instruction in this department occupies a wholly subsidiary

place in pedagogic education, and has not been made as it should have

been, an organic part of the same. The writer of these lines has

accordingly discussed this subject in a special treatise, maintaining

that the most important diseased phenomena of mental life might be

treated as a part of pedagogic psychology (comp. _The Monist_ I, 619).

The demands made were met in different ways. While the English and

American press accepted these demands without reserve (for instance, in

HALL’S _Pedagogical Seminary_, I, 297), in Germany there has been more

caution displayed, inasmuch as the opposing difficulties were regarded as

greater than they probably were (Professor REIN’S _Pädagogische Studien_,

1892, Heft I).

We have, however, simply to call to mind the doctrine which more than

twenty years ago Maudsley in his “Physiology and Pathology of the Mind”

laid such special emphasis upon, that psychic laws are the same in

healthy and diseased phenomena, only that they do not operate under the

same conditions and therefore produce different symptoms. Far from its

being true, therefore, that the introduction of psychopathology into

psychology can be opposed by any especially well-founded objections, such

a procedure will, on the contrary, be found to be, just as Maudsley said,

an appropriate and absolutely indispensable auxiliary of the study of

this science. And that which was emphasised by Maudsley, and lately also

by MUENSTERBERG in the treatise already discussed in _The Monist_ (II,

289), _On the Problems and Methods of Psychology_ (Leipsic, 1891, Abel),

Ziehen has done in his “Outlines of Physiological Psychology” in a manner

which will be full of suggestions for the pedagogue (comp. _The Monist_

I, 598).

The Monist, Vol. 3, 1892-1893 · 第 25 / 65 段