My view of the matter, then, is that emotion in the sense in which

the word is commonly used bears the same relation to perceptions or

beliefs that feelings of physical pleasure or pain do to the objective

or intellectual quality of sensations. I am inclined to think it proper

to class all pleasurable and painful feelings together as emotions.

If this view is correct, it would, of course, include those feelings

to which Professor James would confine the term. I should not at all

hesitate to admit that the emotional state of a person who trembles and

turns pale with fear is different from that of one who preserves his

self-possession in the presence of a danger that he realises and dreads.

I think it is true that the voluntary actions prompted by an emotion

have some tendency to intensify it. But, so far as I can analyse my own

feelings, the pleasures and pains of memory and imagination seem to me

just as real as those of sensation, and not at all to be confounded with

them. When I try to subtract all motor reactions and resulting sensations

from the feeling of fear, for instance, there remains not merely the

intellectual perception that the event dreaded is not desirable, but the

perfectly distinct emotional consciousness that I do not desire it.

This view seems to be favored by the analogy between the relations of

sensation to reflex movement on the one hand, and of perception to

voluntary movement on the other, which will, I think, be found to be very

complete. We have reflex acts which are useful, such as breathing, the

beating of the heart, swallowing and coughing; and others, like groaning,

weeping, and trembling, which seem to be useless. In like manner,

emotions of hope or fear may give rise to voluntary acts calculated to

enable the subject of the emotion to secure or avoid its object. If I

burn my fingers, my hand is involuntarily snatched away. Such would not

be the case if the burn caused no pain. If I see that the house is on

fire, I try to escape, either by extinguishing the fire or by getting

out of the house. It seems to me evident that I should not do so if the

thought of being burned were not painful. Such emotions may also occasion

useless acts, more or less similar to those mentioned above. A person who

saw no way of escape from a burning house might tremble, weep, or groan

from fear.

On the evolutionary hypothesis, it seems easy to understand how the

reproduction, by memory or imagination, of certain feelings might bring

about movements like those excited by the original feelings. Professor

James would have us believe that this reproduction is always, in itself,

indifferent, that is, merely intellectual; but that it is, nevertheless,

capable of setting up the movements which, in the case of peripheral

stimuli, are the results of pleasure and pain, and that the consciousness

of these movements is, in such cases, the sole cause of the emotional

condition. Such a reversal of relations seems to me highly improbable.

Each one must decide for himself which view is more in accordance with

the facts of his own consciousness.

W. L. WORCESTER.

FOOTNOTES:

[57] _Two Cases of General Cutaneous and Sensory Anæsthesia, without

Marked Psychical Implication._ By Henry J. Berkley, M. D., Baltimore.

[Brain, Part IV. 1891.]

PROFESSOR ERNST MACH’S TERM SENSATION.

SUPPLEMENTARY TO HIS CONTROVERSY WITH THE EDITOR.

_The Monist_, Vol. I, No. 3, contains a controversy between Prof. Ernst

Mach and myself on some questions of psycho-physics in which Professor

Mach, having reference to an editorial article on “Feeling and Motion,”

regards sensations as the “elements of reality,” “while motion,” he says,

“is a mere mental auxiliary, an artificial expedient.” “Physicists,” we

are told, “have accustomed us to regard the motions of atoms as more real

than the green of trees. In the latter I see a (sensory) fact, in the

former a _Gedankending_, a thing of thought.”

In contradistinction to Professor Mach I maintained that our scientific

terms, although abstract concepts and things of thought, or noumena, are

after all descriptive of actual facts; they are symbols representing

features of reality. Motions, i. e., that which is meant by the term

motion, is a reality, and what the chemist calls atoms is a definite

quality of certain facts of experience. Atoms are not things in

themselves, as the name seems to suggest, but rather proportional

relations conveniently so expressed as if they were ultimate units or

concrete little bodies of a definite mass or weight. What atoms are,

aside from representing the proportions in which elements combine, we do

not know. We may define “atom” as the minimal weight in which an element

enters into chemical combinations, but such atoms have never been an

object of observation. For aught we know, they may as little be discrete

bodies as a curve consists of discrete straight lines, which, as such,

would be unobservable only because infinitesimally small. The infinitely

small straight line into which a curve is analysed by mathematicians is

a fiction, wisely devised for calculating the path of the curve. This

fiction is as Professor Mach says, an artifice only, not a reality, or

as I say, an allegoric expression to characterise not whole concrete

realities, but certain features of reality in their abstractness.

Scientific terms are comparable to myths that contain deep religious

truths. The fiction of the myth is only the vehicle of its meaning. The

naked meaning in its abstract purity may be difficult to grasp. Thus

our imagination steps in and completes the picture so as to render it

concrete and easily thinkable.

Now, when several months ago I met Professor Mach at Prague, our

conversation naturally touched upon the problems which had formed the

subject of our discussion. Professor Mach assented to my speaking of

scientific terms as abstracts. That, accordingly, must be considered

as the point of agreement. But when I proposed that the term sensation

also was according to my terminology an abstract term representing one

feature of reality only and excluding other features, Professor Mach took

exception to it, saying that he understands by sensation reality itself.

Very well then, this is the difference; and this difference is after

all a difference of terms only. I understand by sensation the psychical

feature of the data of experience only, to the exclusion of what may be

called its physical aspect. Sensation accordingly, as I use the term, is

not the whole of the given reality but only one of its qualities. If, as

Professor Mach uses the term, sensation is another name for reality, the

main difference between our views appears to be removed.

P. CARUS.

BOOK REVIEWS.

VORLESUNGEN ÜBER DIE MENSCHEN- UND THIERSEELE. By _Wilhelm Wundt_. Zweite

umgearbeitete Auflage. Hamburg and Leipsic: Leopold Voss. 1892.

The new edition of Wundt’s _Menschen- und Thierseele_ is one of the

best existing general introductions to psychology. It preserves nearly

the just mean between the purely introspective and abstract treatment

and the substitution of physiology for psychology with which recent

treatises have familiarised us. The author has completely rewritten

the edition of 1863, which he regards as a youthful indiscretion

(_Jugendsünde_)—retaining only such chapters as could be brought into

harmony with his maturer views and with the developed science of

psycho-physics that has taken the place of the _Zukunftsprogramm_ of

thirty years ago. He has wisely omitted all the superficial and diffuse

chapters on comparative psychology and ethnology which cumbered the

original work; has silently ignored the fantastic speculations as to

the identity of electricity and nerve-force (one of the worst of the

aforesaid youthful sins); and practically abandoned (perhaps as too

esoteric for popular exposition) the elaborate reduction of sensations

and perceptions to unconscious judgments and inferences.

The first thirteen or fourteen chapters offer a very clear and

interesting résumé of the chief doctrines of the _Physiologische

Psychologie_ in regard to sensations generally, their measurements and

qualities, Weber’s and Fechner’s laws, the special sensations of color,

hearing, and the muscular sense, and the problem of space perception.

Following the plan of the original work in these chapters, the author

aims less at completeness of statement than to present clearly the

distinctive doctrines of modern psychology. In the treatment of certain

themes, e. g. Fechner’s law, and the perception of space, he neglects,

for the sake of clearness, qualifications of detail which the special

student must look for in the larger work. The last sixteen chapters deal

with the feelings, the will, consciousness, attention, association and

apperception, conception, abnormal and animal psychology and instinct,

concluding with two notable lectures on the “Freedom of the Will” and

the “Immortality of the Soul.” It is to these chapters that we must look

for Wundt’s general psychological and philosophical system. Profiting

by recent criticisms he has here set forth his characteristic doctrines

in so clear and definite a final statement that further misconception

of them is hardly permissible. The remainder of this notice will be

devoted to what is perhaps the most interesting question thus suggested:

Wundt’s relation to the associationist psychology of Spencer on the one

side, and to the younger German school of experimental psychologists

on the other. Wundt ignores the Spencerian form of the associationist

psychology, and the young psychologists do injustice to Wundt, neither

side apparently condescending to read with attention the writings of

the other. The debate, so far as it is not merely verbal, springs

from two real differences of method: (1) Wundt in his psychological

analysis habitually takes account of the problems of the theory of

knowledge (_Erkenntnisstheorie_), or ultimate metaphysics, which the

young psychologists endeavor (not always with success) systematically

to exclude. (2) Wundt, gifted with superior powers of introspection,

is more aware than the young psychologists of the infinite complexity

and subtlety of mental states. He prefers, therefore, to a schematic

simplification of the phenomena a terminology and descriptive analysis

that reflect in some measure their manifold diversity. And thus while

Wundt finds the pure associationist psychology barren and tautologous,

the young psychologists see in Wundt’s complicated terminology only a

shamefaced reversion to the discarded psychology of a substantial soul

endowed with autonomous “faculties.” But the analysis of our mental

states which Wundt gives by means of this terminology is really only

a subtler restatement of the analysis of Mill, Spencer, and Taine, to

which the new psychology has not been able to add anything of moment.

It is true that he proclaims the inadequacy of association, even when

translated into the diagrams of a hypothetical cerebral anatomy, to

“explain” fully our conscious active mental life. But in this he is at

one with Spencer (ultimate scientific ideas), J. S. Mill (Examination of

Hamilton), and Schopenhauer (_Epiphilosophie_). It is gross injustice

to stigmatise as an abandonment of the scientific attitude of mind this

occasional passing recognition of the seeming ultimate inexplicability

of things. In no single concrete instance can it be shown that Wundt now

sacrifices the recognised methods and postulates of modern scientific

investigation to the psychological hypostisations which his opponents

detect in his terminology.

In confirmation of these statements I will give a brief summary of

Wundt’s doctrine of association and apperception with an occasional

indication of its relation to the psychology of Spencer. Wundt

distinguishes the totality of mental states which are perceived from

the presentation at the focus of consciousness which is apperceived. In

this way (substituting everywhere _dunkel bewusst_ for _unbewusst_) he

avoids the metaphysics of the unconscious, while getting the benefit

of the entire analysis of its advocates. I do not think the ultimate

difficulty can be evaded in this way, but will not stop to argue the

point. A further advantage of this distinction is that it makes possible

a dynamic treatment of mental states as “events” in place of the crude

psychology that deals with the conditions of any mental state as so many

ready-made parts externally dovetailed into the completed product. The

active side of consciousness is taken into account from the outset. The

mental state at any moment is described by indicating the presentation

which is then at the focus of consciousness (apperceived) and the

accompanying faintly conscious presentations that qualify its tone and

total effect. The given mental state is “explained” by tracing out the

dynamic readjustments that brought this particular presentation to the

focus, and grouped the faintly conscious presentations about it. Now the

bringing of a presentation to the focus of conscious attention is the

primitive psychical activity, the elementary act of will,[58] and since

Wundt places this at the beginning he rejects all evolution of will or

instinct from reflex action, and thus, it will be said, here at least

puts himself in distinct opposition to advanced scientific thought.

Let us distinguish. So far as we are dealing with the developed minds

we know, Wundt’s distinction is merely the expression of an observed

psychological fact. External volition does go back to internal voluntary

attention and this to a focussing of consciousness for which apperception

is as good a term as another. Such focussing of the attention is for us

now the primary reaction of the “self” on its received impressions. Out

of a given group of presentations I apperceive by preference one and you

another, because at the time my “self,” my mind, differs from yours.

This self may be only a convenient shorthand expression for a passive

product of external forces. The feeling of the reaction of the self may

be an illusion, and its activity may be merely the mechanical action of

a relatively coherent group of presentations when a new presentation is

introduced among them, and the whole process may be explicable in terms

of associations. But the feeling exists, and Wundt has described and

analysed it better than any of his critics.

On the other hand, if the question is of the hypothetical origin of

mind, we are at once brought face to face with an ultimate metaphysical

problem which the new psychology impatiently ignores, which Spencer

grudgingly acknowledges, but which Wundt and Kantians like Riehl find

confronting them at every stage of their analysis. Conscious mind cannot

conceive of its own origin, and therefore all psychological theories of

development must postulate in some form the elements of consciousness

and will. Nothing that I could add to the dialectics of this question

would influence those who feel no difficulty here. They require a long

course of Kantian criticism or its equivalent. At any rate it is not fair

polemic to class a thinker as unscientific merely because he recognises

this difficulty and gives it expression in his psychology, instead of

contemptuously relegating it to metaphysics.

After thus laying the foundations in the doctrine of apperception for the

psychology both of cognition and of the will, Wundt proceeds to restate

the associationist analysis of Mill and Spencer in a more elaborate

terminology but in substantial agreement with Spencer till he reaches

the “concept,” when the introduction of apperception gives rise to a

seeming difference. Spencer distinguishes simultaneous from successive

association as carefully as Wundt. What Wundt, after Herbart calls

“complications,” namely the joint reference to one object of a number

of disparate presentations of sense, is clearly described by Spencer

(“Principles of Psychology,” §§ 315-355); and Wundt’s “assimilations” do

not differ appreciably from Spencer’s “still less conscious” processes

of “organic classification” (“Principles of Psychology,” § 320). Into

the metaphysics of the ultimate relations of contiguity and similarity

as laws of association I cannot enter here. Similarity will always be

recognised as ultimate by those who, like Spencer, approach the problem

first from the psychical side, while a purely materialistic treatment in

terms of nervous currents, such as we find in James, will endeavor to

do away altogether with similarity, which simply cannot be expressed in

terms of nerve-structure without reasoning in a circle. Wundt retains

similarity but endeavors to coördinate it with contiguity. The problem is

really identical with the final question of the relations of “mind” and

“body,” and cannot be profitably discussed apart from that question.

Coming now to the concept and the judgment, we find Wundt affirming

that the different forms of simultaneous and successive association (as

he has defined them) are not an exhaustive classification of mental

processes—that they do not include the concept. Well, he is at liberty

to define his own terms, and before we accuse him of hypostasising a

new faculty to account for the concept, let us scrutinise his meaning.

We shall find that he merely repeats, in a subtler terminology of his

own, the analysis of Berkeley, Mill, Taine, Spencer, and Romanes.

These writers treat the concept as a complicated associational group

held together by the word. Now Wundt, while conceding the theoretic

admissibility of this form of statement, holds that such groups present

so many distinct characteristics that all delicacy of psychological

discrimination is sacrificed by confounding them under one denomination

with other associational complexes. He does not, like Professor James,

bid introspective psychology “throw up the sponge” here, but wishes

to carry his analysis into recesses which the instruments of the

associationists are too clumsy to explore. In the interests of this

analysis he limits the term association to combinations mediated by a

limited number of elements. The (apperceived) concept, on the other

hand, is the product of the reaction of the total mind. This distinction

(whatever we may think of its absolute validity) expresses a finely

observed psychological truth. The distinctive quality of a concept

consists, Wundt says, “_in dem begleitenden Bewusstsein, dass die

einzelne Vorstellung einen bloss stellvertretenden Werth besitze_.”

This feeling he calls the _Begriffsgefühl_, meaning thereby exactly

what Professor James means when he says that “the thoughts by which we

know that we mean the same thing are apt to be very different indeed

from each other,” and that “a polyp would be a conceptual thinker if a

feeling of ‘Hollo! thingumbob again!’ ever flitted through its mind.”

Only, instead of “throwing up the sponge,” Wundt goes on to give a very

interesting account of this feeling in its various degrees of clearness

between the conceptual polyp and the conceiving man. Apperception is

invoked only to name and emphasise the feeling of activity of the self

that enters into the _Begriffsgefühl_, distinguishing it as a reaction of

the total consciousness from the relatively passive associations of what

Romanes would call “recepts.” Psychologists, however, will continue their

fruitless debates on questions of terminology and will still imagine that

Wundt is a belated reactionist.

PAUL SHOREY.

BEITRÄGE ZUR EXPERIMENTELLEN PSYCHOLOGIE. By _Hugo Münsterberg_. Heft 4.

Freiburg i. B. 1892.

Münsterberg’s fourth _Heft_ begins with studies in association. If _a_

and _b_ have been independently associated with _m_, can _a_ call up

_b_ without the appearance in consciousness of _m_? The affirmative

answer of common experience was confirmed by Scripture’s experiments.

Associating five Japanese symbols with two series of five German words,

he found that a word of one series tended (without conscious recollection

of the Japanese symbol) to revive the particular word in the other

series that had been associated with the same symbol. Münsterberg, after

repeating and varying the experiment in a number of fields, denies that

any such relation can be observed. He may very well be right on the

question of facts. It is _a priori_ improbable that a transitory and

arbitrary association of a meaningless symbol could modify appreciably

the independent and accidental associative attractions of familiar

words and presentations. The philosophic interpretation is another

question. For our real knowledge it is a matter of indifference whether

we fill out “missing links” with “_dunkel bewusst_,” “_unbewusst_,” or

“cerebral processes that have no psychical correlates.” And yet how much

of contemporary psychologising is a logomachy raging around just this

question.

Münsterberg’s second series of experiments show clearly the part played

by such missing links in perception. A word is called out just before a

complicated picture is exhibited to the subject. He will usually perceive

first in the picture some object naturally associated with the word, even

though the word has aroused no conscious associations.

Similarly (III) a hastily seen misprinted word will be interpreted

variously according to the associations of another word called out to the

subject in advance.

Another series of experiments has for result that even the most commonly

associated word-couples, as table and chair, have no fixed, unconditional

associative attraction for each other in the same or in different minds,

but that the unit of attraction is the “associative constellation.”

This is only common sense, and artificial experiments will never reveal

anything in this field that we cannot learn quite as well in the class

room. “Table” will suggest “logarithm” if the boy is fresh from the class

in trigonometry.

“The difference between men is in their principle of association” said

Emerson long ago. Münsterberg, who has in his archives records of

fifty thousand experiments in verbal associations, presents a table of

the comparative frequency with which substantives are associated with

superior (more general) or inferior class names, with adjectives or with

verbs to which they stand in the relation of subject or of object. His

chief result is that minds which associate a noun with its higher class

name (_Ueberordner_) think of it as the subject of a verb and do not

associate it with an adjective. The _Unterordner_ thinks of the noun as

object of a verb and associates it with an adjective. The adjective,

then, is not the higher class to which the substantive belongs, but a

limitation of the substantive. The French, if they please, may use this

conclusion to refute Spencer’s contention that “white horse” is a more

natural order than _cheval blanc_.

The first topic in “memory studies” is the persistence in the

psycho-physical mechanism of the disposition to an acquired automatic

movement, even after the memory of the nerve has been seemingly displaced

by the habit of its contrary. The experiments were trivial, such as

shifting the position of an inkstand from right to left in alternate

months, or wearing a watch alternately in the right or left fob. The

result, a progressive diminution of the mistakes made after every change,

may plausibly be explained by the stimulated attention and consequent

care of the experimenter. The second topic treats of the effect of a time

interval on the exactness of our memory of sensations of movement in eyes

and limbs. The section on “chain reactions” is a methodological study of

the various applications of this experimental method. “The influence of

nervous stimulants on psychic activities” is rather interesting reading,

but yields no important results. Alcohol depresses, tea and coffee

heighten the powers of memory and perception for an hour or two after

absorption. But the harmful effect of the alcohol sometimes passes away

after the first hour. _Grössenschätzung_ is a study of our estimates

of distances on a surface, made by passing the hand over it at arm’s

length, at half arm’s length, etc. From experiments as to the estimate

of absolute tone-distances (as distinguished from musical intervals)

Münsterberg concludes that pure measurements are not possible with three

tones only. Experiments with four tones do not, he says, confirm the law

that distances corresponding to equal differences of vibration are felt

as equal.

The Monist, Vol. 3, 1892-1893 · 第 30 / 65 段