Physiologists have assumed that the symmetrical movement of the limbs

as in swimming or rowing is the natural one; and the alternating or

independent movements, as in walking or writing, are an acquisition

involving inhibitions of the natural innervations. “Even in adult life,”

says Professor James, “there is an instinctive tendency to revert to

the bilateral movements of childhood.” Professor Münsterberg was led to

doubt this view by observing the unsymmetrical motions of a baby in a

warm bath, and experiment has confirmed his scepticism. Complicated joint

motions of both hands (tracing circles or other geometrical figures on a

surface) do not exhibit any tendency, when the attention is distracted,

to assume the symmetrical form. They rather tend to compensate each other

in such a way as to preserve equilibrium with the minimum strain on the

other muscles of the body, and this law leads as often to alternating as

to symmetrical movements of the arms or legs. The case is different of

course with the muscles of the trunk, and may be different in birds, as

it would in us if we spent our lives in swimming or rowing.

A new method of attacking the problem of localisation is to observe

the effect of altering the circulation in different parts of the

brain. Tentative experiments on one subject seem to show that verbal

associations are readiest when the victim lies on his left side, which

is a happy coincidence with the localisation of the speech centres in

the left frontal convolutions. If these statistics can be trusted, it is

inadvisable to undertake hard mental labor with the head hanging back

over the edge of a chair!

In the last chapter, certain simple experiments in our estimates of

voluntary movements in varying conditions of mind and body are made the

basis of a far-reaching theory of pleasure, pain, and judgment, the

elements of which can be found in Aristotle, Herbert Spencer, and James.

Münsterberg found by repeated experiments that the accuracy of attempted

reproduction of a fixed and familiar amount of centripetal or centrifugal

movement of finger and thumb along a rod perpendicular to his waistcoat

varied with his condition of fatigue, pleasure, or pain. In a pleasurable

state of consciousness the centrifugal movement was exaggerated while the

centripetal fell short. In pain the reverse relation obtained. Hence he

infers a connection between pain and muscular flexion and pleasure and

muscular extension, or rather, he distinguishes the mere sensation of

pain (_Schmerz_) and pleasure (_Lust_) which may depend on integrations

and disintegrations in the nerve-tissue, from the accompanying feelings

of agreeableness (_Wollust_) or disagreeableness (_Unlust_) which are

due to sensations aroused at the centres by movements of flexion and

extension throughout the body. He thus attaches his special theory of

pleasure and pain to Lange’s and James’s theory of the identity of the

emotions with their bodily concomitants—though he protests against the

metaphysical implications of the doctrine. The origin of the existing

coördination of muscular flexions and extensions with pleasure and pain,

he explains teleologically on the principles of the Spencerian psychology

of evolution. He then proceeds, after Sigwart and Brentano, to revive

the old idea of Aristotle (whom he does not mention) that the judgment

(affirmative or negative) is rather the assumption of an attitude toward

a presentation (_Stellungsnehmende Akte_) than a mere conjunction of

presentations. The affirmative judgment is a faint incipient represented

movement of the self towards a suggested conjunction of presentations.

The negative judgment is a similar movement in the opposite direction.

Ontogenetically these inchoate movements are later than the movements

of acceptance or rejection called forth by a painful or pleasurable

stimulus, and must therefore be treated as derivative phenomena. But the

Kantians may derive some comfort from Münsterberg’s final assurance that

he too believes that “_Erkenntnisstheoretisch das Urtheil primär ist_.”

PAUL SHOREY.

THE SPIRIT OF MODERN PHILOSOPHY. By _Josiah Royce_, Ph. D. Boston and New

York: Houghton, Mifflin & Co.

We are told by Professor Royce in the preface to this book, that we are

indebted for it to the lady friend to whom it is gracefully dedicated,

who asked him “for some account of the more significant spiritual

possessions of a few prominent modern thinkers,” to be related “in

comparatively brief and untechnical fashion.” The larger portion of the

work is taken up with that subject, exhibiting the general growth of

modern philosophical thought beginning with Spinozism, and terminating

with Monism as the outcome of the doctrine of Evolution. The author’s

purpose is constructive, however, as well as expository. He has his own

philosophical creed, suggested by what he knows of the progress and

outcome of modern thought, and the second portion of the work is the

expression of his thoughts on the world-conception which he regards as

embodying the true spirit of modern philosophy. Professor Royce justly

lays stress on the fact that the theory of evolution is the product

of a genuine and continuous growth. He dwells particularly, moreover,

on the distinction between the _epistemological_ sense of idealism,

which “involves a theory of the nature of our human knowledge,” and

its _metaphysical_ sense, in which it is “a theory as to the nature

of the real world, however we may come to know that nature.” It is in

accord with the latter sense that Fichte, Schelling, Hegel, and their

allies, as believing matter to be an expression of the world-spirit, are

referred to as the idealistic school; and it is in the metaphysical and

not the epistemological sense that the term idealism has been used since

Hegel. The opposite of a metaphysical idealist is “one who maintains

the ultimate existence of wholly unspiritual realities at the basis

of experience and as the genuine truth of the world—such unspiritual

realities for instance as an absolute ‘Unknowable,’ or, again, as what

Hobbes meant by ‘Body.’” This is not, however, the view of the author,

who thinks that the metaphysical idealist alone is in possession of a

successful solution for the epistemological problem.

Professor Royce divides modern philosophy into three great periods, of

which the first was one of pure and simple naturalism. The supernatural

had then only a secondary interest, and thought was governed by three

ideas—“that nature is a mechanism, that human reason is competent to

grasp the truth of nature, and that, since nature’s truth is essentially

mathematical, geometry is the model science, whose precision and

necessity philosophy, too, must imitate.” During the second period of

modern philosophy there was a gradual change of thought objectivity.

Reason was still the instrument, but it was employed on the mind itself.

It came to be recognised that if man is part of nature’s mechanism,

he is a knowing mechanism. The age was, however, more than one of

self-analysis. Rousseau introduced a sentimental tendency from which came

“a revival of passion, of poetry, and of enthusiasm, whose influence

we shall never outgrow.” To it is traceable the French Revolution

which overthrew all the mechanical restraints of civilisation, and

“demonstrated afresh to the world’s outer sense the central importance of

passion in the whole life of humanity.”

The period of modern philosophy, which still continues, began with the

publication of Kant’s “Critique of Pure Reason,” the essential doctrine

of which is that man’s nature is the real creator of man’s world, that

visible nature is the expression of the human spirit, the inner structure

of which is therefore the deepest truth for us. This idea is “as old as

deeper spiritual faith itself,” and yet it is the very soul of all our

modern life because it is “the essentially humane view of reality.” For

fifty years Kant’s ideas ruled philosophic thought, and then, through the

progress of science, the doctrine of evolution received formulation, and

confirmation and “external nature has once more gained for us an imposing

authority which makes us in many ways sympathise afresh with the pure

naturalism of the seventeenth century.” We are compelled to omit any

account of the author’s study of the philosophies of Spinoza, Locke, and

Berkeley, or the philosophic systems of Kant and his successors of the

German School of Idealists. Nor can we say anything as to the doctrine of

Evolution, which Professor Royce rightly regards as having had its rise

long before Darwin or Herbert Spencer. Before proceeding to state his

own views, the author takes a cursory glance at modern empirical monism

which he affirms to be rather a suggestion than a philosophy. It is not

surprising, therefore, that he is not content with it although he makes

use of its ideas.

Let us now see what are the “Suggestions” which Professor Royce offers

as his contribution towards the formation of a world-conception. These

occupy the last four chapters of the work, which are supplemented by a

general summary in the appendix, to the book. For the sake of conciseness

we will make use of this summary, according to which there are two

phases of idealistic doctrine, the Analytic Idealism of Berkeley and the

Synthetic Idealism of Kant and his successors. The former shows that if

the world is to be knowable at all, it must be, in its deepest nature, a

world of ideas, that is, it exists “only in so far as beings with minds

actually _know it to be_.” The objection that nobody can _know_ any

reality beyond his own self, is met by the synthetic phase of idealism

which shows us that “there is but one self in the world, the logos or

world-mind. The _finite_ self knows truth beyond its own limitations,

just because it is an organic part of the complete Self.” What are the

demands of idealism as thus stated? They have relation, first, to the

interpretation of the facts of experience, which must be in terms of

the doctrine of the world-mind, and, secondly, to experience itself,

on which we depend “for the revelation of that truth which, for us

finite beings, must remain a fast ‘outer’ truth, just because it is the

content of other mind than our own bits of selfhood, and is universally

true for all intelligences.” The philosophy of experience having to do

with facts and with the interpretation of facts, it is necessary to

distinguish between what is really “outer” and what is “inner” about our

finite experience. The former embraces the world of facts, and a fact

is something which must be describable in some sort of universal terms.

The principle of ordinary realism, “that you must not be sentimental or

otherwise emotional in your account of the truth of things, but rather

_exact in your descriptions of what things are_,” has a thoroughly

idealistic justification. Not appreciation, but description gives us

outer truth, and this is the characteristic presupposition of all natural

science, which is concerned with the universal aspects of things, as

opposed to momentary and transient aspects. That presupposition involves

the assumption that the world is _essentially describable_. But as only

the well-knit, the orderly, that which conforms to law, can be described

science assumes the universality and rigidity of the laws of nature.

It assumes further, since the most exact descriptions are possible only

in the case of processes in Space and Time, of a mechanical type, that

everything including man himself, is a part of nature’s mechanism. A

closer analysis, however, shows that, as one can only describe what has

been first appreciated, there must be universal types of appreciation,

and therefore, that “Ideals must be deeper than Mechanism, so that, in

order to be relatively describable, nature must embody purposes, and so

be possessed of worth.” The author’s conclusion is that the natural order

is also a moral order, and that therefore “the world of absolute self

must appear to us as having two aspects, one a temporal, the other an

eternal aspect, one of law and one of worth. Man then turns out to be at

once a part of nature’s mechanism, and a part of the moral order; at once

temporally determined and morally free.”

The final lecture presents the author’s views as to the solution of the

problem of evil. Professor Royce believes that all evil is part of a good

order, and hence he agrees with Hegel, who declared that life, however

good, will always be restless, longing, suffering, and who gloried

in the paradox as the very essence of spirituality; rather than with

Schopenhauer, whose recognition, in another light, of the universality

of the same truth led him to abandon all hope in life. The justification

of the existence of an evil impulse comes just at the instant when it is

hated and condemned. Thus “condemning and conquering the evil will, makes

it part of a good will”; as pain and suffering have their compensation in

their chastening effect on the spirit. But to the enlightened soul it is

not so much the painfulness as “the blind irrationality of fortune that

seems to drive God out of our thoughts when we look at our world.” It is

the capriciousness of life, arising from human stupidity, that really

makes it seem like an evil dream. What is the explanation of this caprice

given by the author? It is to be found in the creed of his idealism,

“This world is the world of the Logos.” It is “the suffering God, who is

just our own true self, who actually and in our flesh bears the sins of

the world, and whose natural body is pierced by the capricious wounds

that hateful fools inflict upon him.” And as our defeats are his, so his

triumph and his eternal peace are ours also.

Prof. Royce in making “only one more effort to define a ‘double-aspect’

theory of the relations of the physical and the moral and æsthetic

worlds,” affirms that our philosophic insight teaches us that the world

of matter in motion is simply an external aspect of the appreciable

world, that is, of the world of the Logos. Of this, it is such an aspect

“as can be expressed by finite consciousness in terms of the space and

time forms, and of the categories of empirical science.... Consequently

all its laws, all its necessity, its causation, its uniformity, belong,

not to its inner nature as such, but to the external show of this

nature.” That which actually appears to us is matter in motion, which

furnishes the fact of the double aspect, the inner intelligibility of

which fact is problematical to us, but not so for the Logos, who is our

true Self, and who “completes the insight that for us is so fragmentary.”

This true Self, the Logos, is the only Self, and with it the deeper self

of man is identical. That this deeper self is “the self that knows in

unity all truth,” is declared to be no hypothesis, and therefore the

existence of the Infinite Self is perfectly sure. This Self “infinitely

and reflectively transcends our consciousness, and therefore, since

it includes us, it is at the very least a person, and more definitely

conscious than we are; for what it possesses is self-reflecting

knowledge.” Finally, the true world, that is the world of appreciation,

is the system of the thoughts of the Logos, whose unity we know, just so

far as we ourselves consciously and rationally enter into it and form

part of it. Therefore “in so far as we have inner unity of thinking,

in so far as we commune with our fellows, and in so far as we rightly

see significance in the outer universe, we are in and of the world of

appreciation that embodies the thought of the Logos.”

Ingenious as this theory is, and notwithstanding the elements of truth it

possesses, we cannot accept it as conclusive. Its weakness is revealed

in the last line of the paragraph just quoted. If only the world of

appreciation embodies the thought of the Logos, what becomes of the world

of fact? The latter is said to be the outer aspect of the former, a

notion which is apparently derived from the association with man of body

and mind. But the existence of mind, which we must understand by the term

Logos, in nature, although declared by Professor Royce to be the only

thing certain, is a mere inference, and even if the analogy of the human

organism justifies such an inference; it would require that if priority

has to be given to mind or matter in the universe it must be allowed to

the latter. At birth a human being has no mind, properly so-called, since

it is the result of the activity after birth of the organism, through

the agency of the brain. It is true that the human body possesses from

the first the elements of the mind, or rather of the feeling which thus

exhibits itself; or, better still, the organic structure of which feeling

is the general function. The utmost that can be properly asserted of the

universe, therefore, is that it possesses a certain organic arrangement

of its parts, and therewith such a condition of feeling, or, what in

this relation would be a better term, sensitiveness, as is required by

its organic character. In relation to such a state of things the terms

thought, consciousness, reflection, have no meaning so far as we can

judge. That organic aspect of the universe, moreover, leaves no room for

duality. Just as the human organism constitutes a perfect unity, although

it is made up of various organs and exhibits the properties attributed

to both mind and matter, so must the universe be such a perfect unity

whatever its nature and attributes. The human organism may, however, be

strictly described as matter under organic conditions, a description

which is equally applicable to the universe, without determining what

those conditions are. Professor Royce objects to the Unknowable of

Herbert Spencer, but there is very little practical difference between it

and his own true Self, which, as the Absolute, is unknowable, although

he is known in the inner self of man, as Spencer’s Unknowable is known

in the human consciousness. Both Absolute and Unknowable are, however,

merely names for Organic Nature, which is seen in all things visible and

is known by all her operations. These are governed by the laws of her

very existence, and it is the uniformity of which those laws are the

expression which constitutes the moral law of the universe, the breach

of whose eternal order, whether this is established in the world of

matter or in the human mind, must be attended with consequences that are

designated by man as evil. We find only a world of description, which is

nevertheless one of moral order.

Widely as we disagree on the grounds stated with the conclusions of

Professor Royce’s work, it is undoubtedly a valuable contribution to the

discussion of the world-problem. Its description of the characteristics

of the philosophy of Kant and of the German idealists is clear, though

not intended to do more than exhibit the spirit of their teaching, and

it is written in a style which renders it easy reading. It is a pity,

therefore, that it is disfigured with such colloquialisms as _you’ll_,

_isn’t_, _can’t_, _don’t_, words which neither sound well, nor look well

in print.

Ω.

DIE ARISTOTELISCHE AUFFASSUNG VOM VERHÄLTNISSE GOTTES ZUR WELT UND ZUM

MENSCHEN. By _Dr. Eugen Rolfes_. Berlin: Mayer & Müller. 1892.

This book is a scholastic “survival.” The author believes that Zeller’s

interpretation of Aristotle is wrong, and in five formal theses he

endeavors to prove _secundum artem_ that the philosopher was a theist who

taught the creation of the world from nothing, and the immortality of

the soul. In the defence of his theses he manifests some ingenuity and

industry, but no criticism. The work has no scientific significance.

P. S.

MAX STIRNER UND FRIEDRICH NIETZSCHE. Erscheinungen des modernen Geistes

und das Wesen des Menschen. By _Robert Schellwien_. Leipsic: C. E. M.

Pfeffer, 1892. Price 2 m 60 pf.

Individualism is the spirit of the age, and among all the champions

of individualism the most original, the most consistent, the boldest,

are perhaps Max Stirner and Friedrich Nietzsche. Robert Schellwien, in

sketching their views in great outlines, partly admires these courageous

thinkers who dare to draw the consequences of their principles to the

very last even though they will appear absurd to the world, partly

censures the rashness with which they arrive at, and the superciliousness

with which they sometimes state, their opinions. Upon the whole the

author succeeds in impressing the reader that there is in these two

peculiar geniuses a gigantic strength, and that their views of truth,

morality, and justice deserve a greater attention than they have

received. The reviewer is no admirer of either Stirner or Nietzsche; he

believes nevertheless that a careful analysis of their erratic minds and

lives will be very instructive. It will be first of pathological and

then even of more than pathological interest. The actual objective value

of the ideals truth, morality, and justice, will be best illustrated by

showing all the consequences of a consistent individualism. We hope that

this pamphlet will grow into a more comprehensive work; and in that case

we should advise the author to add short biographies of his heroes.

κρς.

THE SOURCES AND DEVELOPMENT OF KANT’S TELEOLOGY. By _James Hayden Tufts_.

Chicago: University Press. 1892.

This little tract is an inaugural dissertation presented by Mr. Tufts

to the University of Freiburg for the attainment of the doctorate of

philosophy. It is written in English. Mr. Tuft’s dissertation is wholly

historical. He simply seeks to expound Kant’s true views. In this respect

the work bears the marks of much research and of a thorough exploitation

of Kant’s works. Mr. Tuft’s concluding words are that “with every new

discovery of science, every advance in the ideals of art and of the

conduct of life, every development in religious faiths, comes anew the

task for philosophy to criticise, and through criticism to make a fresh

attempt to interpret from the unity of reason the manifold of life.”

μκρκ.

DISTINCTION AND THE CRITICISM OF BELIEFS. By _Alfred Sidgwick_. London:

Longmans, Green, & Co. 1892.

This work might be described as an inquiry into the conflict between

philosophy and common sense, and its central idea as the continuity

of nature. What bearing this idea has on the inquiry is shown by the

statement, that the distinction between philosophy and common sense is

only one of degree. And yet, regarded as methods, or attempts to follow

ideals, they may be sharply contrasted. This implies the existence

of distinctions, and hence arises the question how far distinction

is consistent with continuity in nature. The recognition of such a

continuity requires the admission of the unreality of distinctness, but

this fact is not inconsistent with the use of rough distinctions, which

give rise to what the author terms effective ambiguity. Here we have the

field of the operation of common sense, which exhibits itself as tact in

the use of rough distinctions, while, on the other hand, philosophy may

be said to be concerned with the continuity which, from a superficial

glance, might be supposed to stand in opposition to distinction.

The Monist, Vol. 3, 1892-1893 · 第 31 / 65 段