up by the thought of the world as an organic whole constitute the inner
life, that which Clifford calls 'cosmic emotion.' These emotions,
although they do not end in the human soul, impart a spirit and diffuse
an air over the rest of life: they have no separate external expression
of their own. The pivot of man's inner life is the thought of himself
as a part or member of a universal order. The object of the paper is
to answer the questions: what this thought is, or ought to be; what
are some of the forms which the feeling it rouses takes; what are
some of its special relations to social morality; and what practical
means may be suggested under modern conditions for the cultivation of
it. The view of the world most characteristic of the time in which we
live, has laid the foundation for an entirely new attitude of mind
towards the cosmos at large. The world is now known to be an organic
whole. This organism is the invisible background which is presupposed
in the partial glimpses of it which we call common perception and the
special sciences. If we look _inwards_ we have the _human conscience_
as the symbol of a microcosm of moral relations between the different
parts of our nature on the one hand and the different members of human
society on the other. The cosmic principle clothing itself in the
twofold garb of which we know it, is the ultimate object of the emotion
described as the inner life. This brings with it that which lies at
the root of all religion—the sense of dependence, by which is meant,
the feeling that we are born into and supported by a world which our
individual wills did not make. This at first produces a vague sense of
fear in the presence of forces other and mightier than ourselves. But
generally it has passed in us into a higher form, a sense of fearless
faith in truth and right, which are the laws of nature. The faculty
of relating ourselves to the world in its widest, which is also its
deepest, aspects, with its appropriate feeling invests our everyday
duties with a new meaning, and gives them a wider range by connecting
them with the general life of the world. Morality is thus raised to a
higher power; it passes from "mere morality" into "morality touched
with emotion," and thus becomes a species of religion. Among other
means of cultivating the inner life are the attending the _services_
of the churches, although faith has been lost in their dogmas; the
reading of the books, whether belonging to Christian literature or not,
which are in the best sense religious; the study of philosophy. We
are on the right lines if we cling to the great watchwords of our own
time,—Evolution, Progress, Organic Order.
_Moral Theory and Practice._ Moral theory is the analytic perception
of the conditions and relations in hand in a given act,—it is the
action in idea. It is the construction of the act in thought against
its outward construction. It is, therefore, the doing,—the act itself,
in its emerging. So far are we from any divorce of moral theory and
practice, that theory is the ideal act, and conduct is the executed
insight. Moral conduct is absolutely individualised, and it is
precisely that which realises an idea, a conception. The breadth of
action is measured by the insight of the agent. Just so far as the
question, What are the conditions which require action and what the
action they demand, is raised and answered, is action moral and not
merely instinctive or sentimental. This is a work of analysis, which
requires the possession of certain working tools. What we call moral
rules are precisely such tools of analysis. The Golden Rule is a
marvellous tool of analysis but it gives no knowledge, of itself, of
what we should do. As a tool of analysis the moral rule is an idea.
A philosophic theory of ethics is a similar idea to the Golden Rule,
but one of deeper grasp, and therefore wider hold. It bears much the
same relation to the particular rule as this to the special case. It
is a tool for the analysis of its meaning, and thereby a tool for
giving it greater effect. At the back of the Golden Rule are other
larger ideas which have realised themselves, and been so buried in the
common consciousness of men, that they have become integrated with the
content of the Golden Rule which itself has become a vast idea, or
working tool, of practice. Every philosophic theory of ethics performs
in its degree this same service. A man's duty is, not to obey rules,
but to respond to the nature of the actual demands which he finds made
upon him. The rule is merely an aid toward discriminating what the
nature of these relations and demands is. A man has not to do Justice,
and Love, and Truth; he has to do justly and truly and lovingly. The
relative distinction between the "is" and the "ought," is that the
"ought" is the "is" of _action_. The difference between a practical
and a theoretical consciousness is that the former is consciousness
of _something to be done_. And this consciousness of something to be
done is the consciousness of duty. Theory is the cross-section made by
intelligence of the given state of action in order to know the conduct
that should be; practice is the realisation of the idea thus gained: it
is theory in action.
_Morals in History._ A glance at the history of morals reveals
independence and changeableness always and everywhere side by side. So
far as we are acquainted with man in social community, the will of the
community speaks to the individual concerning his practical conduct
with authority; and as an inner appropriation of that will, "the
authority of conscience, of practical reason, which naturally exists
only in the individual, but through friction with the community becomes
filled with a universally valid content." The origin of the common will
is lost in the mysterious darkness of primitive times, or of divine
revelation. It is science which first extends the individual's circle
of experience. Morality is a product of evolution, and is in a state of
continual transformation. The sum of the ethical principles or ideals
which at any time are current in any nation, presents nothing else than
the conception of all that is reciprocally required in a practical
direction of its members, for the advantage and profit of the community
and the individual persons in it. The requirements of social adaptation
are raised into the consciousness of the community. Thus full harmony
between the practical needs of a time and its ethics can only be a
transitory one. The conditions which evoke the individual will to carry
out its own ideals over against the current ones, are none other than
those upon which the formation of new organs in general is dependent.
The new principles must be of assistance to felt needs; they must be
founded in the vital relations of the social body. In answer to the
question whether there is progress in morality, it must be said that
the circle is becoming continually greater of those over whom the
strict import of the conception of humanity is extended. And this is
accompanied by an increasing tenderness towards individuals within the
limits unchangeably set by the needs of the community. The means by
which we strive to actualise our ideals are becoming more rational,
and "the consciousness is continually becoming clearer, with which all
moral principles and judgments are referred to what they signify for
the welfare of the race and for its capacity to develop." But do men
become better? Probably, on the whole, the inner relations of morality
remain unchanged, although quite important shifting may take place at
special times and in special stages. It may be that "considered from
the highest historical point of view, subjective morality—that is,
the conformity of individuals to the standard—relatively declines as
the higher elaboration of the moral ideals advances." But this need
by no means be the last word of historical development. Intelligence
carries illumination into unknown paths which no one as yet has
traversed, making the surrounding darkness blacker. But the will finds
the means of achieving what is clearly conceived. We have no occasion
to be distrustful of the energies of our race. We must not overlook
the increasing influence which our scientific knowledge must exercise,
not only upon the industrial but also upon the social instinct. The
conviction is making rapid strides that even the widest lordship of man
over nature must ultimately be a curse to the ruler himself, unless he
succeeds in establishing the more beautiful and important supremacy
over man; that is, over the natural forces in his own breast—the
brutality of passion, the hardness of egoism, and the crudity of moral
ignorance. But this can be the work only of scientific knowledge and of
its increasing application to social ethical problems.
_The Ethics of Doubt—Cardinal Newman._ There was an ethical trend in
the character and spirit of Cardinal Newman, which lifted him above
any one sect or creed and made him a power to all classes of serious
minds. The especial influence now excited upon us by his thought,
comes from his very antagonism to what is the conspicuous feature in
the intellectual life of our century,—the prevalence of doubt, and
the growth of rationalism. Goethe sounded the note of warning as to
the chief menace that would come to our age through rationalism; that
there are few who have a great mind and at the same time are disposed
to action; intellect broadens the thought, but tends to weaken the
will. Newman has brought it home to us that there is a certain kind of
rationalism which is dangerous to character, and we may be forced to
consider whether we shall not soon be required in the sphere of ethics
to discourage somewhat the universal tendency of doubt and distrust
with reference to elemental convictions. There is no question that
for many minds the first doubt as to whether a certain class of acts
is wrong was the first step in moral decline. A principle of external
authority in ethics is required, although not such an authority as that
of the state or an absolute church. What we are in need of is that
strength of conviction which would make us willing to die for a belief
with reference to the _human_ world. If we were more and more given to
recognising the value of this other external authority,—that is, the
consensus of all the past voices of history when they speak to us on
the moral life,—we might find, more and more, that enthusiasm coming
back and firing once more the hearts of the great men of the age, just
as the other kind of authority gave hope, fire, and enthusiasm to
the purpose of Newman. Notwithstanding the contrast between Newman,
the apostle of faith, and Emerson who has been called the apostle
of scepticism or of individualism, they had the same intensity of
feeling and appalling sincerity, and both had a like expression of
spiritual repose. A mediocre follower of either of them can never be a
satisfactory character. An ultra-individualism in everything enfeebles
the will, just as the complete abnegation of the freedom of thought
dwarfs the intellect. In order to have a perfect solution of the
difficulty, we need to draw both from Emerson and Newman.
_The Ethics of Socialism._ The question may be raised whether the
philosophical ground of ethical truth does not afford philosophical
standing to some sort of socialism. This view of the problem has
evidently pervaded the thinking of Professor Paulsen in his "System
der Ethik mit einem Umriss der Staats- und Gesellschaftslehre," and
it is prominent in the "Allgemeine Ethik" of D. H. Steinthal. The
first question that ought to be raised in regard to socialism is the
sociological question, whether society is a product of that universal
evolution which brought man himself into existence and conditions all
his thought and doings. If so, we may be sure that there are certain
general principles, or laws, to which social evolution has conformed
in the past, and to which it will go on conforming in the future.
The ethical problems involved in the socialistic propositions now
before the public may be reduced to two. _First_, if not all men are
converted in thought and feeling to socialism, can a majority have any
ethical right to compel a minority to surrender individual initiative
and submit to dictation of occupation? _Secondly_ what is an ethical
distribution of product among the workers that create it? Plato and
Aristotle alone laid the foundation for a rationalistic argument from
purely ethical premises, showing that majorities may rightfully do more
than enforce contracts and keep the peace, but the modern restatement
and completion of that argument remains to be made. As to the second
problem, a strong argument could be made in support of the proposition
that an ethical distribution of wealth would be one that should afford
equality of satisfaction throughout society, of the desires that are
ethically commendable. When the clever literary people hypnotised
by Mr. Bellamy's dazzling vision begin to resume their intellectual
self-direction, they will discover that equality of income and equality
of satisfaction, of legitimate desires, are two different things.
_Ethical and Kindred Societies in Great Britain._ Speaking broadly
the attitude of the societies towards theology and its exponents may
be described as one of non-interference or neutrality. They desire
to be rather constructive than destructive in their action, for they
believe that desirable changes can only be effected by the slow
processes of organic growth. With one exception they have none of the
characteristics of a church, and they may be described as lecturing and
debating societies with or without the addition of what is commonly
known as "practical work." They do not retain the services of a single
lecturer, but prefer to have speakers who are independent of each
other. (Philadelphia: _International Journal of Ethics_, 1602 Chestnut
St.)
REVUE PHILOSOPHIQUE. February, 1891. No. 182.
CONTENTS:
REALISME ET IDEALISME. By _Paul Janet_.
L'ART ET LA LOGIQUE. (1st Art.) By _G. Tarde_.
MORALE ET MÉTAPHYSIQUE. By _J. J. Gourd_.
ANALYSES ET COMPTES RENDUS.
REVUE DES PERIODIQUES ETRANGERS.
SOCIÉTÉ DE PSYCHOLOGIE PHYSIOLOGIQUE.
M. Janet remarks, in his article on _Realism and Idealism_, that since
Kant philosophy has concentrated all its efforts on the problem of the
objectivity of knowledge. The agreement of reality and thought is a
truth of which no one doubts, although many centuries were necessary
for its observation. Not only is there agreement between nature and
mind, but there is analogy, resemblance, affinity, between these two
terms. Not only does nature obey the laws of our mind, implying that
there is in it a logical and rational element, but it seems to act
with the art which intelligence would employ, if it wished to create
the products of nature. How is this union of nature and the mind to
be explained? Two solutions present themselves: in which thought can
be explained by nature, or nature by thought. The first of these
solutions is that called _realism_; the second is _idealism_. Each
of these systems has strong reasons in its favor. As to the first,
thought and nature are not commensurate and opposed. Thought makes
itself part of nature, and the only thought we know directly is our
own. For human intelligence is bound to the organisation, and appears
to follow all its vicissitudes. The basis of idealism is not less
firm. External things exist for us only on the condition of passing
through our consciousness. Further, the psychological and physiological
analysis of sensations reclaims them all as being only states of the
ego. But there are serious objections to both hypotheses. Realism is
susceptible of two forms. If thought, considered in relation to the
origin of ideas, is explained by sensation, it becomes empiricism; if
considered in relation to the substratum of thought, this is explained
by organisation, it becomes materialism. As against empiricism, may
be objected with Kant that sensation does not explain the necessity
and universality of scientific judgments. Against materialism,
Fichte showed that a thing which is only a thing could never attain
to thought. Thus empiricism is overthrown by the impossibility of
explaining science; materialism by the impossibility of explaining
thought. In order to meet the objection of Kant, and to explain the
appearance of _a priori_, the new empiricists have invoked: (1) the
principle of inseparable associations; (2) the principle of hereditary
associations. On the other side, the new defenders of materialism
in order to explain the transformation of motion into thought, have
invoked the great principle of the correlation and transformation of
forces in nature. But as to inseparable associations, it may be said,
that they give us rather a necessity of fact, than a necessity of law.
What science requires is absolute and not relative necessity. The
same may be said of the principle of hereditary associations, which
merely prolong the chain of experiences. But, further, association
itself requires explanation, which shows that it cannot account
for the principle of causality. As to the use of the principle of
transformation of forces to explain the passage of motion into thought,
if the objective and physical cause of our sensations is meant, there
is merely transformation of motion into motion. If it is said that
sensations are only transformed motions, this affirms what is in
question, how motion can transform itself into thought. There are no
less serious objections against idealism. The principal one is: all
our reasonings about nature are established only on condition that we
take nature as our basis. We thus reach the double conclusion: neither
nature has produced thought, nor thought has produced nature. The ego
is, however, in nature, and nature is a representation of the ego, but,
while admitting the reciprocal penetration of the two principles, we
are obliged to recognise their mutual independence. There is harmony,
not identity. But is there not some being in which the real of nature
and the real of thought coexist, and who, according to the formula of
Schelling, is the absolute subject-object? Idealism, to be consequent,
ought to go as far as the absolute consciousness, to the union of
the subjective and objective thought. If the two inferior terms are
identified in the absolute mind, this will find in nature and in the
mind a double expression of itself. Nothing prevents us then, says our
author, from understanding nature, with Schelling, as the drowsy mind
seeking to arouse itself, and the ego on the contrary as a nature which
awakens itself.
M. Tarde in _Art and Logic_ remarks that the word art has two
senses. In its wide conception, it includes all the exercises of the
imagination and of human ingenuity, invention in a thousand forms.
But in another sense of the word, it answers to the æsthetic needs of
society. If we had regard only to the art of the most advanced epochs,
we should perhaps say that it serves to satisfy the need of inventive
expression or of expressive invention. It seems then, in effect, to
be before all expressive or inventive, and the second of these traits
appears the most essential. The property of art and also of morality
is to seek and to believe to find a divine end in life, a great end
worthy of individual sacrifice. When art presents itself separated from
morality, when it is an agent not of harmony but of social dissolution,
it is a sign that it is imported from abroad. Art is then immoral and
dissolvent. In all ages truly logical art has been only the translator
and the illuminator of morality.
The work of art is not like a product of industry, an artificial organ
added to the individual, it is an artificial, imaginary mistress. The
privilege of art is to arouse in us sentiments which play in the social
life and logic, precisely the rôle of love in the individual life and
logic. The sentiment of art is a _collective love_ and rejoices to be
such. Art is social joy, as love is individual joy.
_Morality and Metaphysics._ Between practical philosophy and
theoretical philosophy there is a real difference of nature. The
former concerns the action and the latter the perception, and as we
cannot do what yet is not, nor see what is already done, the one has
relation to the future, the other to the present or the past. With this
difference, they resemble each other, in that both consist in a putting
in order, a co-ordination of their objects. Experience is sufficient
to furnish all that is necessary for the explanation of practical
co-ordination. This requires a fundamental notion of practical order,
which metaphysicians see in the notion of the good, but, as the reality
of the good cannot be established, it is a chimerical and arbitrary
conception. We must seek in the co-ordinated objects themselves the
fundamental element around which they will be disposed according to
their proper nature. This cannot be the good, since this is the result
of practical co-ordination. It is pleasure, not a particular kind of
pleasure, but that which is possessed in common by all that pleases,
all that satisfies. Volition can never go beyond pleasure. If we desire
before having really been sensible of pleasure, it is because we have
been ideally sensible of it. Pleasure is inherent in every practical
function, it is practically constant, it is practically categorical.
We cannot go beyond pleasure of some kind. It cannot be said that
pleasure is preceded by function, life. These are only results,
groups which have components, and therefore they cannot be the last
principle of action. Thus one problem is resolved without recourse to
metaphysics.—After the principle of simple co-ordination, must be
sought that of the co-ordination which subordinates, which marks a
sort of hierarchy. For this the idea of pleasure is not sufficient.
It is necessary to limit the point of view, and in the difference of
quantity of pleasure will be found the rule of co-ordination. The
distinction of more or less offers itself at once, and gives place
naturally to degrees, then to a subordination. The rule of the good is:
the amplitude of the co-ordination, the degree of intelligibility, the
number of facts which compose the object of volition. It is necessary
to distinguish between urgency and superiority in proper value.
Things which are the most urgent have not necessarily the most value
in themselves. Thus the practical subordination ought to dispose its
objects inversely, according to whether it is occupied with their
urgency or their proper value. Here also practical philosophy is not
obliged to have recourse to metaphysics. Practical philosophy not only
ought to regulate its objects on the basis that it has previously
fixed, but still ought to assure this regulation for the future. This
requires that its coördinations should be made objects of commandment,
obligation. The conception of the future pleasure enters into the
present; and to each volition is bound by anticipation, ideally,
but positively, the future benefit of the practical co-ordination.
Thus obligation has its source in a volition imposing practical
co-ordination on future volitions. Obligation is in reality causal
determination, and as there is a volition more or less marked in
each act, and the causal chain is never interrupted, we can be said
to be always under the influence of obligation, the power of which
increases with life. Determination is uniformisation; and nothing else
is asked for the moral imperative. Causal determination is opposed
directly to the unconditionment of liberty; but obligation, as well as
causal determination in general, remains, moreover, in every partial
state, limited by its opposite, liberty, which ever recoils before
the continual encroachments of obligation, but without ceasing to be.
There is no difficulty in admitting a sanction for the good, although
it does not constitute a distinct and new element. The sanction is the
consequences of actions from the point of view of pleasures. By the
side of moral happiness or unhappiness, should be reserved a place
for a happiness or unhappiness in some sort "amoral." The moral good
does not exhaust all the good. It is necessary to distinguish between
the moral good and the unrestrained good (bien libre). There is an
immoralisable element which represents the veritable autonomy of the
will. As in all coördinations, by reason of all bending under the
rule, the moral hierarchy will sometimes injure the reality. Here the
notion of the unrestrained good happily intervenes. The reality always
reserves its rights in the face of co-ordinations, whatever be their
nature. When it asserts itself it is sublime, it is, so to say, raised
above every rule, majestic in its sovereign liberty. (Paris: Félix
Alcan.)
ZEITSCHRIFT FÜR PSYCHOLOGIE UND PHYSIOLOGIE DER SINNESORGANE. Vol. II.
Nos. 1 and 2.
CONTENTS:
VERSUCH EINER ERWEITERTEN ANWENDUNG DES FECHNERSCHEN GESETZES IM
FARBENSYSTEM. By _H. v. Helmholtz_.
WAS IST UNSER NERVENSYSTEM UND WAS GEHT DARIN VOR? By _Justus
Gaule_.
PHYSIOLOGISCH-PSYCHOLOGISCHE STUDIEN UEBER DIE ENTWICKELUNG
DER GESICHTSWAHRNEHMUNGEN BEI KINDERN UND BEI OPERIERTEN
BLINDGEBORENEN. By _E. Raehlrnann_.
ZWANGSVORSTELLUNGEN OHNE WAHNIDEEN. By _D. Hack-Tuke_.
EIN VERSUCH UEBER DIE INTRAKRANIELLE LEITUNG LEISESTER TOENE VON
OHR ZU OHR. By _Karl L. Schaefer_.
BESPRECHUNGEN. Wundt, Ueber die Methoden der Messung des
Bewusstseinsumfanges. By _Schumann_.
LITTERATURBERICHT.