of ideas; when successively appearing, they are received singly into
the memory.
The letters of Fechner are continued from No. 1.
ZEITSCHRIFT FÜR PSYCHOLOGIE UND PHYSIOLOGIE DER SINNESORGANE. Vol. I,
No. 3.
CONTENTS:
UEBER DIE KLEINSTEN WAHRNEHMBAREN GESICHTSWINKEL IN DEN
VERSCHIEDENEN TEILEN DES SPEKTRUMS. By _W. Uhthoff_.
DIE ÆSTHETISCHEN GEFUEHLE. By _A. Döring_.
BESPRECHUNGEN: (1) A. Mosso's und A. Maggiora's "Ueber die
Gesetze der Ermüdung." (2) Münsterberg's "Beitraege zur
Experimentellen Psychologie."
LITERATUR-BERICHT.
Dr. Uhthoff, in order to determine the least visual angle of
perception, has employed a grating in a pure-monochromatic spectral
field. His results were that the angles in the different parts of the
spectrum are essentially equal.
Æsthetic emotions, Mr. Döring contends, proceed from the unhindered
play of the functions of psychical faculties; their contrary, from the
inhibition of the same.
This periodical is edited by H. Ebbinghaus and A. König, with H.
Aubert, S. Exner, H. v. Helmholtz, E. Hering, J. v. Kries, Th.
Lipps, G. E. Müller, W. Preyer, and C. Stumpf as collaborators. It
appears every two months. The review of the literature of its special
department of research is very comprehensive. (Hamburg and Leipsic: L.
Voss.)
LA NUOVA FILOSOFIA.
RAGIONI E IDEALI. By _La Direzione_.
LA SENSAZIONE E LA SUA CONOSCIBILITA. By _R. Ardigo_.
J. E. ALAUX'S LE PROBLEME RELIGIEUX AU XIX^e SIÈCLE. By _A.
Torre_.
ECONOMIA SCIENTIFICA ED ECONOMIA UTOPISTA. By _A. Loria_.
P. LEROY-BEAULIEU'S L'ETAT MODERNE ET SES FONCTIONS. By _F. S.
Nitti_.
C. JANNET'S LE SOCIALISME D'ETAT ET LA REFORME SOCIALE. By _F. S.
Nitti_.
LOMBROSO'S AND LASCHI'S IL DELITTO POLITICO E LE RIVOLUZIONI. By
_G. Fioretti_.
CRITICA LETTERARIA.
A. Angiulli—A. Saffi—F. Petruccelli della Gattina. (MEMORIE.)
By _A. Torre_.
LA POLITICA.
QUESTIONI E PROBLEMI. La responsabilità filosofica, secondo
_Paolo Janet_.
This is the first number of _La Nuova Filosofia_ which is established,
under the editorship of Dr. Andrea Torre, to diffuse in Europe
and America the best results of contemporary culture, in relation
especially to the life and development of society. (Naples: Dr. Andrea
Torre, Vico Lungo Avvocata, 66.)
APPENDIX.
Cut exhibiting modifications that affect the accessory nucleus.
Referred to on page 26 of this number of _The Monist_, in M. Binet's
article "The Immortality of Infusoria."
[Illustration: CONJUGATION OF CHILODON CUCULLULUS.]
_A_, beginning of conjugation; _b_, mouth; _n_, nucleus; _nu_,
nucleolus; _v. c._, multiple contracticle vesicles.
_B_, division of the nucleolus into two segments, _nu'_, _nu'_; the
nucleus _n_ begins to show signs of regression.
_C_, each of the two individuals in conjugation contains two nucleolar
segments, brought near together, of which one probably comes from the
individual opposite by course of exchange, and will fuse with the
segment not exchanged, to form a compound segment (Maupas).
_D_, division of the segment into two portions which grow to unequal
sizes; the larger, _nn_, will become the new nucleus, the smaller, the
nucleolus of the new formation, _nun_.
_E_, the old nucleus, _n_, reduced to a small pale and rumpled mass,
is replaced by the new nucleus _nn_, near by which is seen the new
nucleolus _nun_.
VOL. I. JANUARY, 1891. NO. 2.
THE MONIST.
THE ARCHITECTURE OF THEORIES.
Of the fifty or hundred systems of philosophy that have been advanced
at different times of the world's history, perhaps the larger number
have been, not so much results of historical evolution, as happy
thoughts which have accidently occurred to their authors. An idea which
has been found interesting and fruitful has been adopted, developed,
and forced to yield explanations of all sorts of phenomena. The English
have been particularly given to this way of philosophising; witness,
Hobbes, Hartley, Berkeley, James Mill. Nor has it been by any means
useless labor; it shows us what the true nature and value of the
ideas developed are, and in that way affords serviceable materials
for philosophy. Just as if a man, being seized with the conviction
that paper was a good material to make things of, were to go to
work to build a _papier mâché_ house, with roof of roofing-paper,
foundations of paste-board, windows of paraffined paper, chimneys, bath
tubs, locks, etc., all of different forms of paper, his experiment
would probably afford valuable lessons to builders, while it would
certainly make a detestable house, so those one-idea'd philosophies are
exceedingly interesting and instructive, and yet are quite unsound.
The remaining systems of philosophy have been of the nature of reforms,
sometimes amounting to radical revolutions, suggested by certain
difficulties which have been found to beset systems previously in
vogue; and such ought certainly to be in large part the motive of any
new theory. This is like partially rebuilding a house. The faults that
have been committed are, first, that the dilapidations have generally
not been sufficiently thoroughgoing, and second, that not sufficient
pains has been taken to bring the additions into deep harmony with the
really sound parts of the old structure.
When a man is about to build a house, what a power of thinking he has
to do, before he can safely break ground! With what pains he has to
excogitate the precise wants that are to be supplied! What a study to
ascertain the most available and suitable materials, to determine the
mode of construction to which those materials are best adapted, and
to answer a hundred such questions! Now without riding the metaphor
too far, I think we may safely say that the studies preliminary to
the construction of a great theory should be at least as deliberate
and thorough as those that are preliminary to the building of a
dwelling-house.
That systems ought to be constructed architectonically has been
preached since Kant, but I do not think the full import of the maxim
has by any means been apprehended. What I would recommend is that every
person who wishes to form an opinion concerning fundamental problems,
should first of all make a complete survey of human knowledge, should
take note of all the valuable ideas in each branch of science, should
observe in just what respect each has been successful and where it has
failed, in order that in the light of the thorough acquaintance so
attained of the available materials for a philosophical theory and of
the nature and strength of each, he may proceed to the study of what
the problem of philosophy consists in, and of the proper way of solving
it. I must not be understood as endeavoring to state fully all that
these preparatory studies should embrace; on the contrary, I purposely
slur over many points, in order to give emphasis to one special
recommendation, namely, to make a systematic study of the conceptions
out of which a philosophical theory may be built, in order to ascertain
what place each conception may fitly occupy in such a theory, and to
what uses it is adapted.
The adequate treatment of this single point would fill a volume, but I
shall endeavor to illustrate my meaning by glancing at several sciences
and indicating conceptions in them serviceable for philosophy. As to
the results to which long studies thus commenced have led me, I shall
just give a hint at their nature.
We may begin with dynamics,—field in our day of perhaps the
grandest conquest human science has ever made,—I mean the law of
the conservation of energy. But let us revert to the first step
taken by modern scientific thought,—and a great stride it was,—the
inauguration of dynamics by Galileo. A modern physicist on examining
Galileo's works is surprised to find how little experiment had to do
with the establishment of the foundations of mechanics. His principal
appeal is to common sense and _il lume naturale_. He always assumes
that the true theory will be found to be a simple and natural one. And
we can see why it should indeed be so in dynamics. For instance, a body
left to its own inertia, moves in a straight line, and a straight line
appears to us the simplest of curves. In _itself_, no curve is simpler
than another. A system of straight lines has intersections precisely
corresponding to those of a system of like parabolas similarly placed,
or to those of any one of an infinity of systems of curves. But the
straight line appears to us simple, because, as Euclid says, it lies
evenly between its extremities; that is, because viewed endwise it
appears as a point. That is, again, because light moves in straight
lines. Now, light moves in straight lines because of the part which the
straight line plays in the laws of dynamics. Thus it is that our minds
having been formed under the influence of phenomena governed by the
laws of mechanics, certain conceptions entering into those laws become
implanted in our minds, so that we readily guess at what the laws are.
Without such a natural prompting, having to search blindfold for a law
which would suit the phenomena, our chance of finding it would be as
one to infinity. The further physical studies depart from phenomena
which have directly influenced the growth of the mind, the less we can
expect to find the laws which govern them "simple," that is, composed
of a few conceptions natural to our minds.
The researches of Galileo, followed up by Huygens and others,
led to those modern conceptions of _Force_ and _Law_, which have
revolutionised the intellectual world. The great attention given
to mechanics in the seventeenth century soon so emphasised these
conceptions as to give rise to the Mechanical Philosophy, or doctrine
that all the phenomena of the physical universe are to be explained
upon mechanical principles. Newton's great discovery imparted a new
impetus to this tendency. The old notion that heat consists in an
agitation of corpuscles was now applied to the explanation of the
chief properties of gases. The first suggestion in this direction
was that the pressure of gases is explained by the battering of the
particles against the walls of the containing vessel, which explained
Boyle's law of the compressibility of air. Later, the expansion of
gases, Avogadro's chemical law, the diffusion and viscosity of gases,
and the action of Crookes's radiometer were shown to be consequences
of the same kinetical theory; but other phenomena, such as the ratio
of the specific heat at constant volume to that at constant pressure
require additional hypotheses, which we have little reason to suppose
are simple, so that we find ourselves quite afloat. In like manner
with regard to light, that it consists of vibrations was almost proved
by the phenomena of diffraction, while those of polarisation showed
the excursions of the particles to be perpendicular to the line of
propagation; but the phenomena of dispersion, etc., require additional
hypotheses which may be very complicated. Thus, the further progress of
molecular speculation appears quite uncertain. If hypotheses are to be
tried haphazard, or simply because they will suit certain phenomena, it
will occupy the mathematical physicists of the world say half a century
on the average to bring each theory to the test, and since the number
of possible theories may go up into the trillions, only one of which
can be true, we have little prospect of making further solid additions
to the subject in our time. When we come to atoms, the presumption in
favor of a simple law seems very slender. There is room for serious
doubt whether the fundamental laws of mechanics hold good for single
atoms, and it seems quite likely that they are capable of motion in
more than three dimensions.
To find out much more about molecules and atoms, we must search out a
natural history of laws of nature, which may fulfil that function which
the presumption in favor of simple laws fulfilled in the early days
of dynamics, by showing us what kind of laws we have to expect and by
answering such questions as this: Can we with reasonable prospect of
not wasting time, try the supposition that atoms attract one another
inversely as the seventh power of their distances, or can we not? To
suppose universal laws of nature capable of being apprehended by the
mind and yet having no reason for their special forms, but standing
inexplicable and irrational, is hardly a justifiable position.
Uniformities are precisely the sort of facts that need to be accounted
for. That a pitched coin should sometimes turn up heads and sometimes
tails calls for no particular explanation; but if it shows heads every
time, we wish to know how this result has been brought about. Law is
_par excellence_ the thing that wants a reason.
Now the only possible way of accounting for the laws of nature and for
uniformity in general is to suppose them results of evolution. This
supposes them not to be absolute, not to be obeyed precisely. It makes
an element of indeterminacy, spontaneity, or absolute chance in nature.
Just as, when we attempt to verify any physical law, we find our
observations cannot be precisely satisfied by it, and rightly attribute
the discrepancy to errors of observation, so we must suppose far more
minute discrepancies to exist owing to the imperfect cogency of the law
itself, to a certain swerving of the facts from any definite formula.
Mr. Herbert Spencer wishes to explain evolution upon mechanical
principles. This is illogical, for four reasons. First, because
the principle of evolution requires no extraneous cause; since the
tendency to growth can be supposed itself to have grown from an
infinitesimal germ accidentally started. Second, because law ought
more than anything else to be supposed a result of evolution. Third,
because exact law obviously never can produce heterogeneity out
of homogeneity; and arbitrary heterogeneity is the feature of the
universe the most manifest and characteristic. Fourth, because the law
of the conservation of energy is equivalent to the proposition that
all operations governed by mechanical laws are reversible; so that
an immediate corollary from it is that growth is not explicable by
those laws, even if they be not violated in the process of growth.
In short, Spencer is not a philosophical evolutionist, but only a
half-evolutionist,—or, if you will, only a semi-Spencerian. Now
philosophy requires thoroughgoing evolutionism or none.
The theory of Darwin was that evolution had been brought about by the
action of two factors: first, heredity, as a principle making offspring
nearly resemble their parents, while yet giving room for "sporting,"
or accidental variations,—for very slight variations often, for wider
ones rarely; and, second, the destruction of breeds or races that are
unable to keep the birth rate up to the death rate. This Darwinian
principle is plainly capable of great generalisation. Wherever there
are large numbers of objects, having a tendency to retain certain
characters unaltered, this tendency, however, not being absolute but
giving room for chance variations, then, if the amount of variation
is absolutely limited in certain directions by the destruction of
everything which reaches those limits, there will be a gradual tendency
to change in directions of departure from them. Thus, if a million
players sit down to bet at an even game, since one after another will
get ruined, the average wealth of those who remain will perpetually
increase. Here is indubitably a genuine formula of possible evolution,
whether its operation accounts for much or little in the development of
animal and vegetable species.
The Lamarckian theory also supposes that the development of species
has taken place by a long series of insensible changes, but it
supposes that those changes have taken place during the lives of
the individuals, in consequence of effort and exercise, and that
reproduction plays no part in the process except in preserving
these modifications. Thus, the Lamarckian theory only explains the
development of characters for which individuals strive, while the
Darwinian theory only explains the production of characters really
beneficial to the race, though these may be fatal to individuals.[33]
But more broadly and philosophically conceived, Darwinian evolution
is evolution by the operation of chance, and the destruction of bad
results, while Lamarckian evolution is evolution by the effect of habit
and effort.
[33] The neo-Darwinian, Weismann, has shown that mortality
would almost necessarily result from the action of the
Darwinian principle.
A third theory of evolution is that of Mr. Clarence King. The testimony
of monuments and of rocks is that species are unmodified or scarcely
modified, under ordinary circumstances, but are rapidly altered after
cataclysms or rapid geological changes. Under novel circumstances, we
often see animals and plants sporting excessively in reproduction,
and sometimes even undergoing transformations during individual life,
phenomena no doubt due partly to the enfeeblement of vitality from the
breaking up of habitual modes of life, partly to changed food, partly
to direct specific influence of the element in which the organism is
immersed. If evolution has been brought about in this way, not only
have its single steps not been insensible, as both Darwinians and
Lamarckians suppose, but they are furthermore neither haphazard on the
one hand, nor yet determined by an inward striving on the other, but
on the contrary are effects of the changed environment, and have a
positive general tendency to adapt the organism to that environment,
since variation will particularly affect organs at once enfeebled and
stimulated. This mode of evolution, by external forces and the breaking
up of habits, seems to be called for by some of the broadest and most
important facts of biology and paleontology; while it certainly has
been the chief factor in the historical evolution of institutions as in
that of ideas; and cannot possibly be refused a very prominent place in
the process of evolution of the universe in general.
Passing to psychology, we find the elementary phenomena of mind fall
into three categories. First, we have Feelings, comprising all that
is immediately present, such as pain, blue, cheerfulness, the feeling
that arises when we contemplate a consistent theory, etc. A feeling
is a state of mind having its own living quality, independent of any
other state of mind. Or, a feeling is an element of consciousness which
might conceivably override every other state until it monopolised the
mind, although such a rudimentary state cannot actually be realised,
and would not properly be consciousness. Still, it is conceivable,
or supposable, that the quality of blue should usurp the whole
mind, to the exclusion of the ideas of shape, extension, contrast,
commencement and cessation, and all other ideas, whatsoever. A feeling
is necessarily perfectly simple, _in itself_, for if it had parts these
would also be in the mind, whenever the whole was present, and thus the
whole could not monopolise the mind.[34]
[34] A feeling may certainly be compound, but only in virtue
of a perception which is not that feeling nor any feeling at
all.
Besides Feelings, we have Sensations of reaction; as when a person
blindfold suddenly runs against a post, when we make a muscular
effort, or when any feeling gives way to a new feeling. Suppose I had
nothing in my mind but a feeling of blue, which were suddenly to give
place to a feeling of red; then, at the instant of transition there
would be a shock, a sense of reaction, my blue life being transmuted
into red life. If I were further endowed with a memory, that sense
would continue for some time, and there would also be a peculiar
feeling or sentiment connected with it. This last feeling might
endure (conceivably I mean) after the memory of the occurrence and
the feelings of blue and red had passed away. But the _sensation_ of
reaction cannot exist except in the actual presence of the two feelings
blue and red to which it relates. Wherever we have two feelings and pay
attention to a relation between them of whatever kind, there is the
sensation of which I am speaking. But the sense of action and reaction
has two types: it may either be a perception of relation between two
ideas, or it may be a sense of action and reaction between feeling and
something out of feeling. And this sense of external reaction again
has two forms; for it is either a sense of something happening to us,
by no act of ours, we being passive in the matter, or it is a sense of
resistance, that is, of our expending feeling upon something without.
The sense of reaction is thus a sense of connection or comparison
between feelings, either, _A_, between one feeling and another, or _B_,
between feeling and its absence or lower degree; and under _B_ we have,
First, the sense of the access of feeling, and Second, the sense of
remission of feeling.
Very different both from feelings and from reaction-sensations or
disturbances of feeling are general conceptions. When we think, we are
conscious that a connection between feelings is determined by a general
rule, we are aware of being governed by a habit. Intellectual power is
nothing but facility in taking habits and in following them in cases
essentially analogous to, but in non-essentials widely remote from, the
normal cases of connections of feelings under which those habits were
formed.
The one primary and fundamental law of mental action consists in a
tendency to generalisation. Feeling tends to spread; connections
between feelings awaken feelings; neighboring feelings become
assimilated; ideas are apt to reproduce themselves. These are so many
formulations of the one law of the growth of mind. When a disturbance
of feeling takes place, we have a consciousness of gain, the gain of
experience; and a new disturbance will be apt to assimilate itself
to the one that preceded it. Feelings, by being excited, become more
easily excited, especially in the ways in which they have previously
been excited. The consciousness of such a habit constitutes a general
conception.
The cloudiness of psychological notions may be corrected by connecting
them with physiological conceptions. Feeling may be supposed to exist,
wherever a nerve-cell is in an excited condition. The disturbance
of feeling, or sense of reaction, accompanies the transmission of
disturbance between nerve-cells or from a nerve-cell to a muscle-cell
or the external stimulation of a nerve-cell. General conceptions arise
upon the formation of habits in the nerve-matter, which are molecular
changes consequent upon its activity and probably connected with its
nutrition.
The law of habit exhibits a striking contrast to all physical laws
in the character of its commands. A physical law is absolute. What
it requires is an exact relation. Thus, a physical force introduces
into a motion a component motion to be combined with the rest by the
parallelogram of forces; but the component motion must actually take
place exactly as required by the law of force. On the other hand, no
exact conformity is required by the mental law. Nay, exact conformity
would be in downright conflict with the law; since it would instantly
crystallise thought and prevent all further formation of habit. The
law of mind only makes a given feeling _more likely_ to arise. It thus
resembles the "non-conservative" forces of physics, such as viscosity
and the like, which are due to statistical uniformities in the chance
encounters of trillions of molecules.
The old dualistic notion of mind and matter, so prominent in
Cartesianism, as two radically different kinds of substance, will
hardly find defenders to-day. Rejecting this, we are driven to some
form of hylopathy, otherwise called monism. Then the question arises
whether physical laws on the one hand, and the psychical law on the
other are to be taken—
(_A_) as independent, a doctrine often called _monism_, but which I
would name _neutralism_; or,