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AN INTRODUCTION TO PHILOSOPHY
by
GEORGE STUART FULLERTON
Professor of Philosophy in Columbia University
New York
New York
The MacMillan Company
London: Macmillan & Co., Ltd.
1915
Norwood Press
J. S. Cushing Co.--Berwick & Smith Co.
Norwood, Mass., U.S.A.
PREFACE
As there cannot be said to be a beaten path in philosophy, and as
"Introductions" to the subject differ widely from one another, it is
proper that I should give an indication of the scope of the present
volume.
It undertakes:--
1. To point out what the word "philosophy" is made to cover in our
universities and colleges at the present day, and to show why it is
given this meaning.
2. To explain the nature of reflective or philosophical thinking, and
to show how it differs from common thought and from science.
3. To give a general view of the main problems with which philosophers
have felt called upon to deal.
4. To give an account of some of the more important types of
philosophical doctrine which have arisen out of the consideration of
such problems.
5. To indicate the relation of philosophy to the so-called
philosophical sciences, and to the other sciences.
6. To show, finally, that the study of philosophy is of value to us
all, and to give some practical admonitions on spirit and method. Had
these admonitions been impressed upon me at a time when I was in
especial need of guidance, I feel that they would have spared me no
little anxiety and confusion of mind. For this reason, I recommend
them to the attention of the reader.
Such is the scope of my book. It aims to tell what philosophy is. It
is not its chief object to advocate a particular type of doctrine. At
the same time, as it is impossible to treat of the problems of
philosophy except from some point of view, it will be found that, in
Chapters III to XI, a doctrine is presented. It is the same as that
presented much more in detail, and with a greater wealth of reference,
in my "System of Metaphysics," which was published a short time ago.
In the Notes in the back of this volume, the reader will find
references to those parts of the larger work which treat of the
subjects more briefly discussed here. It will be helpful to the
teacher to keep the larger work on hand, and to use more or less of the
material there presented as his undergraduate classes discuss the
chapters of this one. Other references are also given in the Notes,
and it may be profitable to direct the attention of students to them.
The present book has been made as clear and simple as possible, that no
unnecessary difficulties may be placed in the path of those who enter
upon the thorny road of philosophical reflection. The subjects treated
are deep enough to demand the serious attention of any one; and they
are subjects of fascinating interest. That they are treated simply and
clearly does not mean that they are treated superficially. Indeed,
when a doctrine is presented in outline and in a brief and simple
statement, its meaning may be more readily apparent than when it is
treated more exhaustively. For this reason, I especially recommend,
even to those who are well acquainted with philosophy, the account of
the external world contained in Chapter IV.
For the doctrine I advocate I am inclined to ask especial consideration
on the ground that it is, on the whole, a justification of the attitude
taken by the plain man toward the world in which he finds himself. The
experience of the race is not a thing that we may treat lightly.
Thus, it is maintained that there is a real external world presented in
our experience--not a world which we have a right to regard as the
sensations or ideas of any mind. It is maintained that we have
evidence that there are minds in certain relations to that world, and
that we can, within certain limits, determine these relations. It is
pointed out that the plain man's belief in the activity of his mind and
his notion of the significance of purposes and ends are not without
justification. It is indicated that theism is a reasonable doctrine,
and it is held that the human will is free in the only proper sense of
the word "freedom." Throughout it is taken for granted that the
philosopher has no private system of weights and measures, but must
reason as other men reason, and must prove his conclusions in the same
sober way.
I have written in hopes that the book may be of use to undergraduate
students. They are often repelled by philosophy, and I cannot but
think that this is in part due to the dry and abstract form in which
philosophers have too often seen fit to express their thoughts. The
same thoughts can be set forth in plain language, and their
significance illustrated by a constant reference to experiences which
we all have--experiences which must serve as the foundation to every
theory of the mind and the world worthy of serious consideration.
But there are many persons who cannot attend formal courses of
instruction, and who, nevertheless, are interested in philosophy.
These, also, I have had in mind; and I have tried to be so clear that
they could read the work with profit in the absence of a teacher.
Lastly, I invite the more learned, if they have found my "System of
Metaphysics" difficult to understand in any part, to follow the simple
statement contained in the chapters above alluded to, and then to
return, if they will, to the more bulky volume.
GEORGE STUART FULLERTON.
New York, 1906.
CONTENTS
PART I
INTRODUCTORY
CHAPTER I
THE MEANING OF THE WORD "PHILOSOPHY" IN THE PAST AND IN THE PRESENT
1. The Beginnings of Philosophy.
2. The Greek Philosophy at its Height.
3. Philosophy as a Guide to Life.
4. Philosophy in the Middle Ages.
5. The Modern Philosophy.
6. What Philosophy means in our Time.
CHAPTER II
COMMON THOUGHT, SCIENCE, AND REFLECTIVE THOUGHT
7. Common Thought.
8. Scientific Knowledge.
9. Mathematics.
10. The Science of Psychology.
11. Reflective Thought.
PART II
PROBLEMS TOUCHING THE EXTERNAL WORLD
CHAPTER III
IS THERE AN EXTERNAL WORLD?
12. How the Plain Man thinks he knows the World.
13. The Psychologist and the External World.
14. The "Telephone Exchange."
CHAPTER IV
SENSATIONS AND "THINGS"
15. Sense and Imagination.
16. May we call "Things" Groups of Sensations?
17. The Distinction between Sensations and "Things."
18. The Existence of Material Things.
CHAPTER V
APPEARANCES AND REALITIES
19. Things and their Appearances.
20. Real Things.
21. Ultimate Real Things.
22. The Bugbear of the "Unknowable".
CHAPTER VI
OF SPACE
23. What we are supposed to know about It.
24. Space as Necessary and Space as Infinite.
25. Space as Infinitely Divisible.
26. What is Real Space?
CHAPTER VII
OF TIME
27. Time as Necessary, Infinite, and Infinitely Divisible.
28. The Problem of Past, Present, and Future.
29. What is Real Time?
PART III
PROBLEMS TOUCHING THE MIND
CHAPTER VIII
WHAT IS THE MIND?
30. Primitive Notions of Mind.
31. The Mind as Immaterial.
32. Modern Common Sense Notions of the Mind.
33. The Psychologist and the Mind.
34. The Metaphysician and the Mind.
CHAPTER IX
MIND AND BODY
35. Is the Mind in the Body?
36. The Doctrine of the Interactionist.
37. The Doctrine of the Parallelist.
38. In what Sense Mental Phenomena have a Time and Place.
39. Objections to Parallelism.
CHAPTER X
HOW WE KNOW THERE ARE OTHER MINDS
40. Is it Certain that we know It?
41. The Argument for Other Minds.
42. What Other Minds are there?
43. The Doctrine of Mind-stuff.
CHAPTER XI
OTHER PROBLEMS OF WORLD AND MIND
44. Is the Material World a Mechanism?
45. The Place of Mind in Nature.
46. The Order of Nature and "Free-will."
47. The Physical World and the Moral World.
PART IV
SOME TYPES OF PHILOSOPHICAL THEORY
CHAPTER XII
THEIR HISTORICAL BACKGROUND
48. The Doctrine of Representative Perception.
49. The Step to Idealism.
50. The Revolt of "Common Sense."
51. The Critical Philosophy.
CHAPTER XIII
REALISM AND IDEALISM
52. Realism.
53. Idealism.
CHAPTER XIV
MONISM AND DUALISM
54. The Meaning of the Words.
55. Materialism.
56. Spiritualism.
57. The Doctrine of the One Substance.
58. Dualism.
59. Singularism and Pluralism.
CHAPTER XV
RATIONALISM, EMPIRICISM, CRITICISM, AND CRITICAL EMPIRICISM
60. Rationalism.
61. Empiricism.
62. Criticism.
63. Critical Empiricism.
64. Pragmatism.
PART V
THE PHILOSOPHICAL SCIENCES
CHAPTER XVI
LOGIC
65. Introductory; the Philosophical Sciences.
66. The Traditional Logic.
67. The "Modern" Logic.
68. Logic and Philosophy.
CHAPTER XVII
PSYCHOLOGY
69. Psychology and Philosophy.
70. The Double Affiliation of Psychology.
CHAPTER XVIII
ETHICS AND AESTHETICS
71. Common Sense Ethics.
72. Ethics and Philosophy.
73. Aesthetics.
CHAPTER XIX
METAPHYSICS
74. What is Metaphysics?
75. Epistemology.
CHAPTER XX
THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION
76. Religion and Reflection.
77. The Philosophy of Religion.
CHAPTER XXI
PHILOSOPHY AND THE OTHER SCIENCES
78. The Philosophical and the Non-philosophical Sciences.
79. The study of Scientific Principles and Methods.
PART VI
ON THE STUDY OF PHILOSOPHY
CHAPTER XXII
THE VALUE OF THE STUDY OF PHILOSOPHY
80. The Question of Practical Utility.
81. Why Philosophical Studies are Useful.
82. Metaphysics and the Philosophy of Religion.
CHAPTER XXIII
WHY WE SHOULD STUDY THE HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
83. The Prominence given to the Subject.
84. The Especial Importance of Historical Studies to Reflective Thought.
85. The Value of Different Points of View.
86. Philosophy as Poetry and Philosophy as Science.
87. How to read the History of Philosophy.
CHAPTER XXIV
SOME PRACTICAL ADMONITIONS
88. Be prepared to enter upon a New Way of Looking at Things.
89. Be willing to consider Possibilities which at first strike one
as Absurd.
90. Do not have too much Respect for Authority.
91. Remember that Ordinary Rules of Evidence Apply.
92. Aim at Clearness and Simplicity.
93. Do not hastily accept a Doctrine.
NOTES
AN INTRODUCTION TO PHILOSOPHY
I. INTRODUCTORY
CHAPTER I
THE MEANING OF THE WORD "PHILOSOPHY" IN THE PAST AND IN THE PRESENT
I must warn the reader at the outset that the title of this chapter
seems to promise a great deal more than he will find carried out in the
chapter itself. To tell all that philosophy has meant in the past, and
all that it means to various classes of men in the present, would be a
task of no small magnitude, and one quite beyond the scope of such a
volume as this. But it is not impossible to give within small compass
a brief indication, at least, of what the word once signified, to show
how its signification has undergone changes, and to point out to what
sort of a discipline or group of disciplines educated men are apt to
apply the word, notwithstanding their differences of opinion as to the
truth or falsity of this or that particular doctrine. Why certain
subjects of investigation have come to be grouped together and to be
regarded as falling within the province of the philosopher, rather than
certain other subjects, will, I hope, be made clear in the body of the
work. Only an indication can be given in this chapter.
1. THE BEGINNINGS OF PHILOSOPHY.--The Greek historian Herodotus
(484-424 B.C.) appears to have been the first to use the verb "to
philosophize." He makes Croesus tell Solon how he has heard that he
"from a desire of knowledge has, philosophizing, journeyed through many
lands." The word "philosophizing" seems to indicate that Solon pursued
knowledge for its own sake, and was what we call an investigator. As
for the word "philosopher" (etymologically, a lover of wisdom), a
certain somewhat unreliable tradition traces it back to Pythagoras
(about 582-500 B.C.). As told by Cicero, the story is that, in a
conversation with Leon, the ruler of Phlius, in the Peloponnesus, he
described himself as a philosopher, and said that his business was an
investigation into the nature of things.
At any rate, both the words "philosopher" and "philosophy" are freely
used in the writings of the disciples of Socrates (470-399 B.C.), and
it is possible that he was the first to make use of them. The seeming
modesty of the title philosopher--for etymologically it is a modest
one, though it has managed to gather a very different signification
with the lapse of time--the modesty of the title would naturally appeal
to a man who claimed so much ignorance, as Socrates; and Plato
represents him as distinguishing between the lover of wisdom and the
wise, on the ground that God alone may be called wise. From that date
to this the word "philosopher" has remained with us, and it has meant
many things to many men. But for centuries the philosopher has not
been simply the investigator, nor has he been simply the lover of
wisdom.
An investigation into the origin of words, however interesting in
itself, can tell us little of the uses to which words are put after
they have come into being. If we turn from etymology to history, and
review the labors of the men whom the world has agreed to call
philosophers, we are struck by the fact that those who head the list
chronologically appear to have been occupied with crude physical
speculations, with attempts to guess what the world is made out of,
rather than with that somewhat vague something that we call philosophy
to-day.
Students of the history of philosophy usually begin their studies with
the speculations of the Greek philosopher Thales (b. 624 B.C.). We are
told that he assumed water to be the universal principle out of which
all things are made, and that he maintained that "all things are full
of gods." We find that Anaximander, the next in the list, assumed as
the source out of which all things proceed and that to which they all
return "the infinite and indeterminate"; and that Anaximenes, who was
perhaps his pupil, took as his principle the all-embracing air.
This trio constitutes the Ionian school of philosophy, the earliest of
the Greek schools; and one who reads for the first time the few vague
statements which seem to constitute the sum of their contributions to
human knowledge is impelled to wonder that so much has been made of the
men.
This wonder disappears, however, when one realizes that the appearance
of these thinkers was really a momentous thing. For these men turned
their faces away from the poetical and mythologic way of accounting for
things, which had obtained up to their time, and set their faces toward
Science. Aristotle shows us how Thales may have been led to the
formulation of his main thesis by an observation of the phenomena of
nature. Anaximander saw in the world in which he lived the result of a
process of evolution. Anaximenes explains the coming into being of
fire, wind, clouds, water, and earth, as due to a condensation and
expansion of the universal principle, air. The boldness of their
speculations we may explain as due to a courage born of ignorance, but
the explanations they offer are scientific in spirit, at least.
Moreover, these men do not stand alone. They are the advance guard of
an army whose latest representatives are the men who are enlightening
the world at the present day. The evolution of science--taking that
word in the broad sense to mean organized and systematized
knowledge--must be traced in the works of the Greek philosophers from
Thales down. Here we have the source and the rivulet to which we can
trace back the mighty stream which is flowing past our own doors.
Apparently insignificant in its beginnings, it must still for a while
seem insignificant to the man who follows with an unreflective eye the
course of the current.
It would take me too far afield to give an account of the Greek schools
which immediately succeeded the Ionic: to tell of the Pythagoreans, who
held that all things were constituted by numbers; of the Eleatics, who
held that "only Being is," and denied the possibility of change,
thereby reducing the shifting panorama of the things about us to a mere
delusive world of appearances; of Heraclitus, who was so impressed by
the constant flux of things that he summed up his view of nature in the
words: "Everything flows"; of Empedocles, who found his explanation of
the world in the combination of the four elements, since become
traditional, earth, water, fire, and air; of Democritus, who developed
a materialistic atomism which reminds one strongly of the doctrine of
atoms as it has appeared in modern science; of Anaxagoras, who traced
the system of things to the setting in order of an infinite
multiplicity of different elements,--"seeds of things,"--which setting
in order was due to the activity of the finest of things, Mind.
It is a delight to discover the illuminating thoughts which came to the
minds of these men; and, on the other hand, it is amusing to see how
recklessly they launched themselves on boundless seas when they were
unprovided with chart and compass. They were like brilliant children,
who know little of the dangers of the great world, but are ready to
undertake anything. These philosophers regarded all knowledge as their
province, and did not despair of governing so great a realm. They were
ready to explain the whole world and everything in it. Of course, this
can only mean that they had little conception of how much there is to
explain, and of what is meant by scientific explanation.
It is characteristic of this series of philosophers that their
attention was directed very largely upon the external world. It was
natural that this should be so. Both in the history of the race and in
that of the individual, we find that the attention is seized first by
material things, and that it is long before a clear conception of the
mind and of its knowledge is arrived at. Observation precedes
reflection. When we come to think definitely about the mind, we are
all apt to make use of notions which we have derived from our
experience of external things. The very words we use to denote mental
operations are in many instances taken from this outer realm. We
"direct" the attention; we speak of "apprehension," of "conception," of
"intuition." Our knowledge is "clear" or "obscure"; an oration is
"brilliant"; an emotion is "sweet" or "bitter." What wonder that, as
we read over the fragments that have come down to us from the
Pre-Socratic philosophers, we should be struck by the fact that they
sometimes leave out altogether and sometimes touch lightly upon a
number of those things that we regard to-day as peculiarly within the
province of the philosopher. They busied themselves with the world as
they saw it, and certain things had hardly as yet come definitely
within their horizon.
2. THE GREEK PHILOSOPHY AT ITS HEIGHT.--The next succeeding period sees
certain classes of questions emerge into prominence which had attracted
comparatively little attention from the men of an earlier day.
Democritus of Abdera, to whom reference has been made above, belongs
chronologically to this latter period, but his way of thinking makes us
class him with the earlier philosophers. It was characteristic of
these latter that they assumed rather naïvely that man can look upon
the world and can know it, and can by thinking about it succeed in
giving a reasonable account of it. That there may be a difference
between the world as it really is and the world as it appears to man,
and that it may be impossible for man to attain to a knowledge of the
absolute truth of things, does not seem to have occurred to them.
The fifth century before Christ was, in Greece, a time of intense
intellectual ferment. One is reminded, in reading of it, of the
splendid years of the Renaissance in Italy, of the awakening of the
human mind to a vigorous life which cast off the bonds of tradition and
insisted upon the right of free and unfettered development. Athens was
the center of this intellectual activity.
In this century arose the Sophists, public teachers who busied
themselves with all departments of human knowledge, but seemed to lay
no little emphasis upon certain questions that touched very nearly the
life of man. Can man attain to truth at all--to a truth that is more
than a mere truth to him, a seeming truth? Whence do the laws derive
their authority? Is there such a thing as justice, as right? It was
with such questions as these that the Sophists occupied themselves, and
such questions as these have held the attention of mankind ever since.
When they make their appearance in the life of a people or of an
individual man, it means that there has been a rebirth, a birth into
the life of reflection.
When Socrates, that greatest of teachers, felt called upon to refute
the arguments of these men, he met them, so to speak, on their own
ground, recognizing that the subjects of which they discoursed were,
indeed, matter for scientific investigation. His attitude seemed to
many conservative persons in his day a dangerous one; he was regarded
as an innovator; he taught men to think and to raise questions where,
before, the traditions of the fathers had seemed a sufficient guide to
men's actions.
And, indeed, he could not do otherwise. Men had learned to reflect,
and there had come into existence at least the beginnings of what we
now sometimes rather loosely call the mental and moral sciences. In
the works of Socrates' disciple Plato (428-347 B.C.) and in those of
Plato's disciple Aristotle (384-322 B.C.), abundant justice is done to
these fields of human activity. These two, the greatest among the
Greek philosophers, differ from each other in many things, but it is
worthy of remark that they both seem to regard the whole sphere of
human knowledge as their province.
Plato is much more interested in the moral sciences than in the
physical, but he, nevertheless, feels called upon to give an account of
how the world was made and out of what sort of elements. He evidently
does not take his own account very seriously, and recognizes that he is
on uncertain ground. But he does not consider the matter beyond his
jurisdiction.
As for Aristotle, that wonderful man seems to have found it possible to
represent worthily every science known to his time, and to have marked
out several new fields for his successors to cultivate. His philosophy
covers physics, cosmology, zoölogy, logic, metaphysics, ethics,
psychology, politics and economics, rhetoric and poetics.
Thus we see that the task of the philosopher was much the same at the
period of the highest development of the Greek philosophy that it had
been earlier. He was supposed to give an account of the system of
things. But the notion of what it means to give an account of the
system of things had necessarily undergone some change. The
philosopher had to be something more than a natural philosopher.
3. PHILOSOPHY AS A GUIDE TO LIFE.--At the close of the fourth century
before Christ there arose the schools of the Stoics, the Epicureans,
and the Skeptics. In them we seem to find a somewhat new conception of
philosophy--philosophy appears as chiefly a guide to life. The Stoic
emphasizes the necessity of living "according to nature," and dwells
upon the character of the wise man; the Epicurean furnishes certain
selfish maxims for getting through life as pleasantly as possible; the
Skeptic counsels apathy, an indifference to all things,--blessed is he
who expects nothing, for he shall not be disappointed.
And yet, when we examine more closely these systems, we find a
conception of philosophy not really so very different from that which
had obtained before. We do not find, it is true, that disinterested
passion for the attainment of truth which is the glory of science. Man
seems quite too much concerned with the problem of his own happiness or
unhappiness; he has grown morbid. Nevertheless, the practical maxims
which obtain in each of these systems are based upon a certain view of
the system of things as a whole.
The Stoic tells us of what the world consists; what was the beginning
and what will be the end of things; what is the relation of the system
of things to God. He develops a physics and a logic as well as a
system of ethics. The Epicurean informs us that the world originated
in a rain of atoms through space; he examines into the foundations of
human knowledge; and he proceeds to make himself comfortable in a world
from which he has removed those disturbing elements, the gods. The
Skeptic decides that there is no such thing as truth, before he
enunciates the dogma that it is not worth while to worry about
anything. The philosophy of each school includes a view of the system
of things as a whole. The philosopher still regarded the universe of
knowledge as his province.
4. PHILOSOPHY IN THE MIDDLE AGES.--I cannot do more than mention
Neo-Platonism, that half Greek and half Oriental system of doctrine
which arose in the third century after Christ, the first system of
importance after the schools mentioned above. But I must not pass it
by without pointing out that the Neo-Platonic philosopher undertook to
give an account of the origin, development, and end of the whole system
of things.
In the Middle Ages there gradually grew up rather a sharp distinction
between those things that can be known through the unaided reason and
those things that can only be known through a supernatural revelation.
The term "philosophy" came to be synonymous with knowledge attained by
the natural light of reason. This seems to imply some sort of a
limitation to the task of the philosopher. Philosophy is not
synonymous with all knowledge.
But we must not forget to take note of the fact that philosophy, even
with this limitation, constitutes a pretty wide field. It covers both
the physical and the moral sciences. Nor should we omit to notice that
the scholastic philosopher was at the same time a theologian. Albert
the Great and St. Thomas Aquinas, the famous scholastics of the
thirteenth century, had to write a "_Summa Theologiae_," or system of
theology, as well as to treat of the other departments of human
knowledge.
Why were these men not overwhelmed with the task set them by the
tradition of their time? It was because the task was not, after all,
so great as a modern man might conceive it to be. Gil Blas, in Le
Sage's famous romance, finds it possible to become a skilled physician
in the twinkling of an eye, when Dr. Sangrado has imparted to him the
secret that the remedy for all diseases is to be found in bleeding the
patient and in making him drink copiously of hot water. When little is
known about things, it does not seem impossible for one man to learn
that little. During the Middle Ages and the centuries preceding, the
physical sciences had a long sleep. Men were much more concerned in
the thirteenth century to find out what Aristotle had said than they
were to address questions to nature. The special sciences, as we now
know them, had not been called into existence.
5. THE MODERN PHILOSOPHY.--The submission of men's minds to the
authority of Aristotle and of the church gradually gave way. A revival
of learning set in. Men turned first of all to a more independent
choice of authorities, and then rose to the conception of a philosophy
independent of authority, of a science based upon an observation of
nature, of a science at first hand. The special sciences came into
being.
But the old tradition of philosophy as universal knowledge remained.
If we pass over the men of the transition period and turn our attention
to Francis Bacon (1561-1626) and Rene Descartes (1596-1650), the two
who are commonly regarded as heading the list of the modern
philosophers, we find both of them assigning to the philosopher an
almost unlimited field.
Bacon holds that philosophy has for its objects God, man, and nature,
and he regards it as within his province to treat of "_philosophia
prima_" (a sort of metaphysics, though he does not call it by this
name), of logic, of physics and astronomy, of anthropology, in which he
includes psychology, of ethics, and of politics. In short, he attempts
to map out the whole field of human knowledge, and to tell those who
work in this corner of it or in that how they should set about their
task.
As for Descartes, he writes of the trustworthiness of human knowledge,
of the existence of God, of the existence of an external world, of the
human soul and its nature, of mathematics, physics, cosmology,
physiology, and, in short, of nearly everything discussed by the men of
his day. No man can accuse this extraordinary Frenchman of a lack of
appreciation of the special sciences which were growing up. No one in
his time had a better right to be called a scientist in the modern
sense of the term. But it was not enough for him to be a mere
mathematician, or even a worker in the physical sciences generally. He
must be all that has been mentioned above.
The conception of philosophy as of a something that embraces all
departments of human knowledge has not wholly passed away even in our
day. I shall not dwell upon Spinoza (1632-1677), who believed it
possible to deduce a world _a priori_ with mathematical precision; upon
Christian Wolff (1679-1754), who defined philosophy as the knowledge of
the causes of what is or comes into being; upon Fichte (1762-1814), who
believed that the philosopher, by mere thinking, could lay down the
laws of all possible future experience; upon Schelling (1775-1854),
who, without knowing anything worth mentioning about natural science,
had the courage to develop a system of natural philosophy, and to
condemn such investigators as Boyle and Newton; upon Hegel (1770-1831),
who undertakes to construct the whole system of reality out of
concepts, and who, with his immediate predecessors, brought philosophy
for a while into more or less disrepute with men of a scientific turn
of mind. I shall come down quite to our own times, and consider a man
whose conception of philosophy has had and still has a good deal of
influence, especially with the general public--with those to whom
philosophy is a thing to be taken up in moments of leisure, and cannot
be the serious pursuit of a life.
"Knowledge of the lowest kind," says Herbert Spencer, "is _un-unified_
knowledge; Science is _partially-unified_ knowledge; Philosophy is
_completely-unified_ knowledge." [1] Science, he argues, means merely
the family of the Sciences--stands for nothing more than the sum of
knowledge formed of their contributions. Philosophy is the fusion of
these contributions into a whole; it is knowledge of the greatest
generality. In harmony with this notion Spencer produced a system of
philosophy which includes the following: A volume entitled "First
Principles," which undertakes to show what man can and what man cannot
know; a treatise on the principles of biology; another on the
principles of psychology; still another on the principles of sociology;
and finally one on the principles of morality. To complete the scheme
it would have been necessary to give an account of inorganic nature
before going on to the phenomena of life, but our philosopher found the
task too great and left this out.
Now, Spencer was a man of genius, and one finds in his works many
illuminating thoughts. But it is worthy of remark that those who
praise his work in this or in that field are almost always men who have
themselves worked in some other field and have an imperfect
acquaintance with the particular field that they happen to be praising.
The metaphysician finds the reasonings of the "First Principles" rather
loose and inconclusive; the biologist pays little heed to the
"Principles of Biology"; the sociologist finds Spencer not particularly
accurate or careful in the field of his predilection. He has tried to
be a professor of all the sciences, and it is too late in the world's
history for him or for any man to cope with such a task. In the days
of Plato a man might have hoped to accomplish it.
6. WHAT PHILOSOPHY MEANS IN OUR TIME.--It savors of temerity to write
down such a title as that which heads the present section. There are
men living to-day to whom philosophy means little else than the
doctrine of Kant, or of Hegel, or of the brothers Caird, or of Herbert
Spencer, or even of St. Thomas Aquinas, for we must not forget that
many of the seminaries of learning in Europe and some in America still
hold to the mediaeval church philosophy.
But let me gather up in a few words the purport of what has been said
above. Philosophy once meant the whole body of scientific knowledge.
Afterward it came to mean the whole body of knowledge which could be
attained by the mere light of human reason, unaided by revelation. The
several special sciences sprang up, and a multitude of men have for a
long time past devoted themselves to definite limited fields of
investigation with little attention to what has been done in other
fields. Nevertheless, there has persisted the notion of a discipline
which somehow concerns itself with the whole system of things, rather
than with any limited division of that broad field. It is a notion not
peculiar to the disciples of Spencer. There are many to whom
philosophy is a "_Weltweisheit_," a world-wisdom. Shall we say that
this is the meaning of the word philosophy now? And if we do, how
shall we draw a line between philosophy and the body of the special
sciences?
Perhaps the most just way to get a preliminary idea of what philosophy
means to the men of our time is to turn away for the time being from
the definition of any one man or group of men, and to ask ourselves
what a professor of philosophy in an American or European university is
actually supposed to teach.
It is quite clear that he is not supposed to be an Aristotle. He does
not represent all the sciences, and no one expects him to lecture on
mathematics, mechanics, physics, chemistry, zoölogy, botany, economics,
politics, and various other disciplines. There was a time when he
might have been expected to teach all that men could know, but that
time is long past.
Nevertheless, there is quite a group of sciences which are regarded as
belonging especially to his province; and although a man may devote a
large part of his attention to some one portion of the field, he would
certainly be thought remiss if he wholly neglected the rest. This
group of sciences includes logic, psychology, ethics and aesthetics,
metaphysics, and the history of philosophy. I have not included
epistemology or the "theory of knowledge" as a separate discipline, for
reasons which will appear later (Chapter XIX); and I have included the
history of philosophy, because, whether we care to call this a special
science or not, it constitutes a very important part of the work of the
teacher of philosophy in our day.
Of this group of subjects the student who goes to the university to
study philosophy is supposed to know something before he leaves its
walls, whatever else he may or may not know.
It should be remarked, again, that there is commonly supposed to be a
peculiarly close relation between philosophy and religion. Certainly,
if any one about a university undertakes to give a course of lectures
on theism, it is much more apt to be the professor of philosophy than
the professor of mathematics or of chemistry. The man who has written
an "Introduction to Philosophy," a "Psychology," a "Logic," and an
"Outlines of Metaphysics" is very apt to regard it as his duty to add
to the list a "Philosophy of Religion." The students in the
theological seminaries of Europe and America are usually encouraged, if
not compelled, to attend courses in philosophy.
Finally, it appears to be definitely accepted that even the disciplines
that we never think of classing among the philosophical sciences are
not wholly cut off from a connection with philosophy. When we are
occupied, not with adding to the stock of knowledge embraced within the
sphere of any special science, but with an examination of the methods
of the science, with, so to speak, a criticism of the foundations upon
which the science rests, our work is generally recognized as
philosophical. It strikes no one as odd in our day that there should
be established a "Journal of Philosophy, Psychology, and Scientific
Methods," but we should think it strange if some one announced the
intention to publish a "Journal of Philosophy and Comparative Anatomy."
It is not without its significance that, when Mach, who had been
professor of physics at Prague, was called (in 1895) to the University
of Vienna to lecture on the history and theory of the inductive
sciences, he was made, not professor of physics, but professor of
philosophy.
The case, then, stands thus: a certain group of disciplines is regarded
as falling peculiarly within the province of the professor of
philosophy, and the sciences which constitute it are frequently called
the philosophical sciences; moreover, it is regarded as quite proper
that the teacher of philosophy should concern himself with the problems
of religion, and should pry into the methods and fundamental
assumptions of special sciences in all of which it is impossible that
he should be an adept. The question naturally arises: Why has his task
come to be circumscribed as it is? Why should he teach just these
things and no others?
To this question certain persons are at once ready to give an answer.
There was a time, they argue, when it seemed possible for one man to
embrace the whole field of human knowledge. But human knowledge grew;
the special sciences were born; each concerned itself with a definite
class of facts and developed its own methods. It became possible and
necessary for a man to be, not a scientist at large, but a chemist, a
physicist, a biologist, an economist. But in certain portions of the
great field men have met with peculiar difficulties; here it cannot be
said that we have sciences, but rather that we have attempts at
science. The philosopher is the man to whom is committed what is left
when we have taken away what has been definitely established or is
undergoing investigation according to approved scientific methods. He
is Lord of the Uncleared Ground, and may wander through it in his
compassless, irresponsible way, never feeling that he is lost, for he
has never had any definite bearings to lose.
Those who argue in this way support their case by pointing to the lack
of a general consensus of opinion which obtains in many parts of the
field which the philosopher regards as his own; and also by pointing
out that, even within this field, there is a growing tendency on the
part of certain sciences to separate themselves from philosophy and
become independent. Thus the psychologist and the logician are
sometimes very anxious to have it understood that they belong among the
scientists and not among the philosophers.
Now, this answer to the question that we have raised undoubtedly
contains some truth. As we have seen from the sketch contained in the
preceding pages, the word philosophy was once a synonym for the whole
sum of the sciences or what stood for such; gradually the several
sciences have become independent and the field of the philosopher has
been circumscribed. We must admit, moreover, that there is to be found
in a number of the special sciences a body of accepted facts which is
without its analogue in philosophy. In much of his work the
philosopher certainly seems to be walking upon more uncertain ground
than his neighbors; and if he is unaware of that fact, it must be
either because he has not a very nice sense of what constitutes
scientific evidence, or because he is carried away by his enthusiasm
for some particular form of doctrine.
Nevertheless, it is just to maintain that the answer we are discussing
is not a satisfactory one. For one thing, we find in it no indication
of the reason why the particular group of disciplines with which the
philosopher occupies himself has been left to him, when so many
sciences have announced their independence. Why have not these, also,
separated off and set up for themselves? Is it more difficult to work
in these fields than in others? and, if so, what reason can be assigned
for the fact?
Take psychology as an instance. How does it happen that the physicist
calmly develops his doctrine without finding it necessary to make his
bow to philosophy at all, while the psychologist is at pains to explain
that his book is to treat psychology as "a natural science," and will
avoid metaphysics as much as possible? For centuries men have been
interested in the phenomena of the human mind. Can anything be more
open to observation than what passes in a man's own consciousness?
Why, then, should the science of psychology lag behind? and why these
endless disputes as to whether it can really be treated as a "natural
science" at all?
Again. May we assume that, because certain disciplines have taken a
position of relative independence, therefore all the rest of the field
will surely come to be divided up in the same way, and that there will
be many special sciences, but no such thing as philosophy? It is hasty
to assume this on no better evidence than that which has so far been
presented. Before making up one's mind upon this point, one should
take a careful look at the problems with which the philosopher occupies
himself.
A complete answer to the questions raised above can only be given in
the course of the book, where the main problems of philosophy are
discussed, and the several philosophical sciences are taken up and
examined. But I may say, in anticipation, as much as this:--
(1) Philosophy is reflective knowledge. What is meant by reflective
knowledge will be explained at length in the next chapter.
(2) The sciences which are grouped together as philosophical are those
in which we are forced back upon the problems of reflective thought,
and cannot simply put them aside.
(3) The peculiar difficulties of reflective thought may account for the
fact that these sciences are, more than others, a field in which we may
expect to find disputes and differences of opinion.
(4) We need not be afraid that the whole field of human knowledge will
come to be so divided up into special sciences that philosophy will
disappear. The problems with which the philosopher occupies himself
are real problems, which present themselves unavoidably to the
thoughtful mind, and it is not convenient to divide these up among the
several sciences. This will become clearer as we proceed.
[1] "First Principles," Part II, section 37.