CHAIRMAN: MR. JOHN HAYS HAMMOND, New York City.
SPEAKERS: PROFESSOR ROBERT H. RICHARDS, Massachusetts Institute of
Technology.
PROFESSOR SAMUEL B. CHRISTY, University of California.
SECRETARY: DR. JOSEPH STRUTHERS, New York City.
SECTION E. TECHNICAL CHEMISTRY. (_Hall 16, September 23, 10 a. m._)
CHAIRMAN: DR. H. W. WILEY, Department of Agriculture.
SPEAKERS: PROFESSOR CHARLES E. MUNROE, George Washington University.
PROFESSOR WILLIAM H. WALKER, Massachusetts Institute of
Technology.
SECRETARY: DR. MARCUS BENJAMIN, U. S. National Museum.
SECTION F. AGRICULTURE. (_Hall 10, September 24, 3 p. m._)
CHAIRMAN: PROFESSOR H. J. WHEELER, Kingston, R. I.
SPEAKERS: PROFESSOR CHARLES W. DABNEY, JR., University of Cincinnati.
PROFESSOR LIBERTY H. BAILEY, Cornell University.
SECRETARY: PROFESSOR WILLIAM HILL, University of Chicago.
DEPARTMENT 19--ECONOMICS
(_Hall 1, September 20, 11.15 a. m._)
CHAIRMAN: PROFESSOR EMORY R. JOHNSON, University of Pennsylvania.
SPEAKERS: PROFESSOR FRANK A. FETTER, Cornell University.
PROFESSOR ADOLPH C. MILLER, University of California.
SECTION A. ECONOMIC THEORY. (_Hall 15, September 22, 10 a. m._)
CHAIRMAN:
SPEAKERS: PROFESSOR JOHN B. CLARK, Columbia University.
PROFESSOR JACOB H. HOLLANDER, Johns Hopkins University.
SECRETARY: PROFESSOR JESSE E. POPE, University of Missouri.
SECTION B. TRANSPORTATION. (_Hall 10, September 23, 10 a. m._)
CHAIRMAN: PROFESSOR J. LAWRENCE LAUGHLIN, University of Chicago.
SPEAKERS: PROFESSOR EUGENE VON PHILIPPOVICH, University of Vienna.
PROFESSOR WILLIAM Z. RIPLEY, Harvard University.
SECRETARY: MR. GEORGE G. TUNELL, Chicago.
SECTION C. COMMERCE AND EXCHANGE. (_Hall 10, September 24, 10 a. m._)
CHAIRMAN:
SPEAKERS: PROFESSOR E. D. JONES, University of Michigan.
PROFESSOR CARL PLEHN, University of California.
SECRETARY:
SECTION D. MONEY AND CREDIT. (_Hall 5, September 24, 3 p. m._)
CHAIRMAN: MR. B. E. WALKER, Canadian Bank of Commerce, Toronto.
SPEAKERS: MR. HORACE WHITE, New York City.
PROFESSOR J. LAWRENCE LAUGHLIN, University of Chicago.
SECRETARY: PROFESSOR JOHN CUMMINGS, University of Chicago.
SECTION E. PUBLIC FINANCE. (_Hall 1, September 21, 10 a. m._)
CHAIRMAN:
SPEAKERS: PROFESSOR HENRY C. ADAMS, University of Michigan.
PROFESSOR EDWIN R. A. SELIGMAN, Columbia University.
SECRETARY:
SECTION F. INSURANCE. (_Hall 10, September 21, 3 p. m._)
CHAIRMAN: DR. EMORY MCCLINTOCK, Actuary, Mutual Life Insurance
Company, New York.
SPEAKERS: MR. FREDERICK L. HOFFMAN, Statistician, Prudential
Insurance Company, Newark.
PROFESSOR BALTHASAR H. MEYER, University of Wisconsin.
SECRETARY:
DIVISION F--SOCIAL REGULATION
(_Hall 2, September 20, 10 a. m._)
SPEAKER: PROFESSOR ABBOTT L. LOWELL, Harvard University.
DEPARTMENT 20--POLITICS
(_Hall 2, September 20, 2 p. m._)
CHAIRMAN:
SPEAKERS: PROFESSOR WILLIAM A. DUNNING, Columbia University.
CHANCELLOR E. BENJAMIN ANDREWS, University of Nebraska.
SECTIONS A AND C. POLITICAL THEORY AND NATIONAL ADMINISTRATION.
(_Hall 15, September 22, 3 p. m._)
CHAIRMAN:
SPEAKERS: PROFESSOR W. W. WILLOUGHBY, Johns Hopkins University.
PROFESSOR GEORGE G. WILSON, Brown University.
RIGHT HON. JAMES BRYCE, London, England.
SECRETARY: DR. CHARLES E. MERRIAM, University of Chicago.
SECTION B. DIPLOMACY. (_Hall 1, September 23, 3 p. m._)
CHAIRMAN:
SPEAKERS: HONORABLE JOHN W. FOSTER, Ex-Secretary of State.
HONORABLE DAVID JAYNE HILL, Minister of the United States
to Switzerland.
SECRETARY:
SECTION D. COLONIAL ADMINISTRATION. (_Hall 4, September 24, 10 a. m._)
CHAIRMAN: PROFESSOR HARRY P. JUDSON, University of Chicago.
SPEAKERS: PROFESSOR BERNARD J. MOSES, University of California.
PROFESSOR PAUL S. REINSCH, University of Wisconsin.
SECRETARY:
SECTION E. MUNICIPAL ADMINISTRATION. (_Hall 15, September 24, 3 p. m._)
CHAIRMAN:
SPEAKERS: MR. ALBERT SHAW, Editor American Monthly Review of Reviews.
MISS JANE ADDAMS, Hull House, Chicago.
SECRETARY: PROFESSOR JOHN A. FAIRLIE, University of Michigan.
DEPARTMENT 21--JURISPRUDENCE
(_Hall 3, September 20, 4.15 p. m._)
CHAIRMAN: PROFESSOR GEORGE W. KIRCHWEY, Columbia University.
SPEAKERS: PRESIDENT CHARLES W. NEEDHAM, Columbian University,
Washington.
PROFESSOR JOSEPH H. BEALE, Harvard University.
SECTION A. INTERNATIONAL LAW. (_Hall 14, September 22, 10 a. m._)
CHAIRMAN: PROFESSOR JAMES B. SCOTT, Columbia University.
SPEAKERS: PROFESSOR H. LAFONTAINE, Member of the Senate, Brussels,
Belgium.
PROFESSOR CHARLES NOBLE GREGORY, University of Iowa.
COUNT ALBERT APPONYI, Hungary.
SECRETARY: DR. W. C. DENNIS, Leland Stanford Jr. University.
SECTION B. CONSTITUTIONAL LAW. (_Hall 14, September 24, 10 a. m._)
CHAIRMAN: PROFESSOR HENRY ST. GEORGE TUCKER, George Washington
University, Washington.
SPEAKERS: SIGNOR ATTILIO BRUNIALTI, Councilor of State, Rome.
PROFESSOR JOHN W. BURGESS, Columbia University.
PROFESSOR FERDINAND LARNAUDE, University of Paris.
SECRETARY:
SECTION C. PRIVATE LAW. (_Hall 14, September 23, 3 p. m._)
CHAIRMAN: PROFESSOR JAMES B. AMES, Dean, Harvard Law School.
SPEAKERS: PROFESSOR ERNST FREUND, University of Chicago.
HONORABLE EDWARD B. WHITNEY, New York.
SECRETARY: DEAN WILLIAM DRAPER LEWIS, University of Pennsylvania.
DEPARTMENT 22--SOCIAL SCIENCE
(_Hall 1, September 20, 2 p. m._)
CHAIRMAN: MR. WALTER L. SHELDON, Ethical Society, St. Louis.
SPEAKERS: PROFESSOR FELIX ADLER, Columbia University.
PROFESSOR GRAHAM TAYLOR, Chicago Theological Seminary.
SECTION A. THE FAMILY. (_Hall 5, September 21, 10 a. m._)
CHAIRMAN: PROFESSOR SAMUEL G. SMITH, University of Minnesota.
SPEAKERS: DR. SAMUEL W. DIKE, Auburndale, Mass.
PROFESSOR GEORGE ELLIOTT HOWARD, University of Nebraska.
SECRETARY:
SECTION B. THE RURAL COMMUNITY. (_Hall 5, September 21, 3 p. m._)
CHAIRMAN: HON. AARON JONES, Master of National Grange, South Bend, Ind.
SPEAKERS: PROFESSOR MAX WEBER, University of Heidelberg.
PRESIDENT KENYON L. BUTTERFIELD, Rhode Island State
Agricultural College.
SECRETARY: PROFESSOR WILLIAM HILL, University of Chicago.
SECTION C. THE URBAN COMMUNITY. (_Hall 5, September 22, 10 a. m._)
CHAIRMAN:
SPEAKERS: PROFESSOR T. JASTROW, University of Berlin.
PROFESSOR LOUIS WUARIN, University of Geneva.
SECRETARY:
SECTION D. THE INDUSTRIAL GROUP. (_Hall 14, September 22, 3 p. m._)
CHAIRMAN:
SPEAKERS: PROFESSOR WERNER SOMBART, University of Breslau.
PROFESSOR RICHARD T. ELY, University of Wisconsin.
SECRETARY: PROFESSOR THOMAS S. ADAMS, Madison, Wis.
SECTION E. THE DEPENDENT GROUP. (_Hall 5, September 23, 10 a. m._)
CHAIRMAN: MR. ROBERT W. DEFOREST, New York City.
SPEAKERS: PROFESSOR CHARLES R. HENDERSON, University of Chicago.
DR. EMIL MÜNSTERBERG, President City Charities, Berlin.
SECRETARY:
SECTION F. THE CRIMINAL GROUP. (_Hall 5, September 23, 3 p. m._)
CHAIRMAN:
SPEAKER: MR. FREDERICK H. WINES, Secretary State Charities Aid
Association, Upper Montclair, N. J.
SECRETARY:
DIVISION G--SOCIAL CULTURE
(_Hall 5, September 20, 10 a. m._)
SPEAKER: HONORABLE WILLIAM T. HARRIS, United States Commissioner of
Education.
DEPARTMENT 23--EDUCATION
(_Hall 2, September 20, 4.15 p. m._)
CHAIRMAN:
SPEAKERS: PRESIDENT ARTHUR T. HADLEY, Yale University.
THE RIGHT REV. JOHN L. SPALDING, Bishop of Peoria.
SECTION A. EDUCATIONAL THEORY. (_Hall 12, September 24, 3 p. m._)
CHAIRMAN: PROFESSOR CHARLES DEGARMO, Cornell University.
SPEAKERS: PROFESSOR WILHELM REIN, University of Jena.
PROFESSOR ELMER E. BROWN, University of California.
SECRETARY: DR. G. M. WHITTLE, Cornell University.
SECTION B. THE SCHOOL. (_Hall 12, September 23, 10 a. m._)
CHAIRMAN: DR. F. LOUIS SOLDAN, Superintendent Public Schools,
St. Louis.
SPEAKERS: DR. MICHAEL E. SADLER, University of Manchester.
DR. WILLIAM H. MAXWELL, Superintendent Public Schools,
New York City.
SECRETARY: PROFESSOR A. S. LANGSDORF, Washington University.
SECTION C. THE COLLEGE. (_Hall 12, September 23, 3 p. m._)
CHAIRMAN: PRESIDENT W. S. CHAPLIN, Washington University.
SPEAKERS: PRESIDENT WILLIAM DEWITT HYDE, Bowdoin College.
PRESIDENT M. CAREY THOMAS, Bryn Mawr College.
SECRETARY: PROFESSOR H. H. HORNE, Dartmouth College.
SECTION D. THE UNIVERSITY. (_Hall 12, September 24, 10 a. m._)
CHAIRMAN:
SPEAKERS: PROFESSOR C. CHABOT, University of Lyons.
PROFESSOR EDWARD DELAVAN PERRY, Columbia University.
SECRETARY:
SECTION E. THE LIBRARY. (_Hall 12, September 22, 3 p. m._)
CHAIRMAN: MR. FREDERICK M. CRUNDEN, Librarian St. Louis Public Library.
SPEAKERS: MR. WILLIAM A. E. AXON, Manchester, England.
PROFESSOR GUIDO BIAGI, Royal Librarian, Florence.
SECRETARY: MR. C. P. PETTUS, Washington University.
DEPARTMENT 24--RELIGION
(_Hall 4, September 20, 4.15 p. m._)
CHAIRMAN: BISHOP JOHN H. VINCENT, Chautauqua, N. Y.
SPEAKERS: PRESIDENT HENRY C. KING, Oberlin College.
PROFESSOR FRANCIS G. PEABODY, Harvard University.
SECTION A. GENERAL RELIGIOUS EDUCATION. (_Hall 11, September 24,
3 p. m._)
CHAIRMAN: PROFESSOR EDWIN D. STARBUCK, Earlham College, Richmond, Ind.
SPEAKERS: PROFESSOR GEORGE A. COE, Northwestern University.
DR. WALTER L. HERVEY, Examiner Board of Education,
New York City.
SECRETARY:
SECTION B. PROFESSIONAL RELIGIOUS EDUCATION. (_Hall 1, September 22,
3 p. m._)
CHAIRMAN:
SPEAKERS: PRESIDENT CHARLES CUTHBERT HALL, Union Theological Seminary.
PROFESSOR FRANK K. SANDERS, Yale University.
SECRETARY: PROFESSOR HERBERT L. WILLETT, Disciples Divinity House,
Chicago, Ill.
SECTION C. RELIGIOUS AGENCIES. (_Hall 15, September 23, 3 p. m._)
CHAIRMAN: PRESIDENT EDGAR C. MULLINS, Southern Baptist Theological
Seminary, Louisville, Ky.
SPEAKERS: REV. WASHINGTON GLADDEN, Columbus, Ohio.
REV. JAMES M. BUCKLEY, Editor The Christian Advocate,
New York.
SECRETARY: DR. IRA LANDRITH, General Secretary Religious Education
Association, Chicago, Ill.
SECTION D. RELIGIOUS WORK. (_Hall 1, September 24, 3 p. m._)
CHAIRMAN: RT. REV. THOMAS F. GAILOR, Memphis.
SPEAKERS: REV. FLOYD W. TOMKINS, Church of the Holy Trinity,
Philadelphia.
REV. HENRY C. MABIE, Corresponding Secretary, American
Baptist Missionary Union.
SECRETARY:
SECTION E. RELIGIOUS INFLUENCE: PERSONAL. (_Festival Hall,
September 25, 10 a. m._)
CHAIRMAN: CHANCELLOR J. H. KIRKLAND, Vanderbilt University.
SPEAKERS: REV. HUGH BLACK, Edinburgh, Scotland.
PROFESSOR JOHN E. MCFADYEN, Knox College.
REV. SAMUEL ELIOT, Boston, Mass.
REV. EDWARD B. POLLARD, Georgetown, Ky.
SECRETARY: PROFESSOR CLYDE W. VOTAW, University of Chicago.
SECTION F. RELIGIOUS INFLUENCE: SOCIAL. (_Festival Hall, September 25,
3 p. m._)
CHAIRMAN: DR. J. H. GARRISON, St. Louis.
SPEAKERS: PRESIDENT JOSEPH SWAIN, Swarthmore College.
DR. EMIL G. HIRSCH, Chicago, Ill.
PROFESSOR EDWARD C. MOORE, Harvard University.
DR. JOSIAH STRONG, League for Social Service, New York.
SECRETARY: PROFESSOR CLYDE W. VOTAW, University of Chicago.
CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER OF PROCEEDINGS
* * * * *
MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 19.
3 P. M. Opening exercises of the Congress. Festival Hall (Hall 17).
The Congress will be called to order by the Director of Congresses, who
will introduce the President of the Exposition.
Welcoming addresses will be delivered by the President of the Exposition
and other officials.
A reply to these addresses of welcome will be made on behalf of the
Congress by the Honorary Vice-President for Great Britain.
The Chairman of the Administrative Board will give an account of the
origin and purpose of the Congress.
The President of the Congress will then be introduced and will deliver
an introductory address, after which adjournment will follow.
* * * * *
TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 20.
10.00 A. M. Meetings of the seven Divisions. The Divisional addresses
will be given as follows:--
Hall 1, Utilitarian Sciences.
Hall 2, Social Regulation.
Hall 3, Historical Science.
Hall 4, Physical Science.
Hall 5, Social Culture.
Hall 6, Normative Science.
Hall 7, Mental Science.
11.15 to 6.00 P. M. Meetings of the Departments, with addresses:--
Meeting at 11.15 A. M.
DEPARTMENTS.
Hall 1, Economics.
Hall 2, Biology.
Hall 3, Sciences of the Earth.
Hall 4, Political History.
Hall 5, History of Law.
Hall 6, Philosophy.
Hall 7, Mathematics.
Hall 8, History of Art.
Adjournment at 1 P. M.
Meeting at 2 P. M.
DEPARTMENTS.
Hall 1, Social Science.
Hall 2, Politics.
Hall 3, Technology.
Hall 4, History of Language.
Hall 5, History of Religion.
Hall 6, Physics.
Hall 7, Psychology.
Hall 8, Anthropology.
Adjournment at 3.45 P. M.
Meeting at 4.15 P. M.
DEPARTMENTS.
Hall 1, Medicine.
Hall 2, Education.
Hall 3, Jurisprudence.
Hall 4, Religion.
Hall 5, Chemistry.
Hall 6, History of Literature.
Hall 7, Sociology.
Hall 8, Astronomy.
Adjournment at 6. P. M.
On the four days following, the Sectional meetings will be held. The
duration of each session will be three hours. The morning sessions will
extend from 10 A. M. until 1 P. M.; the afternoon sessions from 3 P. M.
to 6 P. M.
The meetings of some of the religious sections will be held on Sunday,
September 25, in Festival Hall. Further announcements concerning these
Sunday Meetings will be made in Registration Hall, in the daily press of
St. Louis, and in the World's Fair Official Programme.
* * * * *
WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 21.
Meeting at 10 A. M.
Hall 1, Public Finance.
Hall 2, Animal Morphology.
Hall 3, History of Greece, Rome, and Asia.
Hall 4, Comparative Language.
Hall 5, The Family.
Hall 6, Metaphysics.
Hall 7, Otology and Laryngology.
Hall 8, Slavic Literature.
Hall 9, Astrometry.
Hall 10, Civil Engineering.
Hall 11, History of Common Law.
Hall 12, Physiography.
Hall 13, Public Health.
Hall 14, Geophysics.
Hall 15, Social Structure.
Hall 16, Inorganic Chemistry.
Adjournment at 1 P. M.
Meeting at 3 P. M.
Hall 1, Philosophy of Religion.
Hall 2, Phylogeny.
Hall 3, Classical Literature.
Hall 4, Semitic Languages.
Hall 5, The Rural Community.
Hall 6, Medieval History.
Hall 7, Pediatrics.
Hall 8, Oceanography.
Hall 9, Astrophysics.
Hall 10, Insurance.
Hall 11, History of Roman Law.
Hall 13, Preventive Medicine.
Hall 14, Geology.
Hall 16, Organic Chemistry.
Adjournment at 6 P. M.
* * * * *
Immediately following the Section of Geophysics in the morning, and the
Section of Geology in the afternoon, in Room 14, the Eighth
International Geographic Congress will hold sessions in the same room,
Hall 14, Mines and Metallurgy Building.
THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 22.
Meeting at 10 A. M.
Hall 1, English Literature.
Hall 2, Plant Morphology.
Hall 3, Modern History of Europe.
Hall 4, Old Testament.
Hall 5, The Urban Community.
Hall 6, Logic.
Hall 7, Psychiatry.
Hall 8, Indo-Iranian Languages.
Hall 9, Algebra and Analysis.
Hall 10, Cosmical Physics.
Hall 11, Palæontology.
Hall 12, Classical Art.
Hall 13, Pathology.
Hall 14, International Law.
Hall 15, Economic Theory.
Hall 16, Physical Chemistry.
Adjournment at 1 P. M.
Meeting at 3 P. M.
Hall 1, Professional Religious Education.
Hall 2, Human Anatomy.
Hall 3, Greek Language.
Hall 4, Plant Physiology.
Hall 5, Physics of the Electron.
Hall 6, Methodology of Science.
Hall 7, Modern Architecture.
Hall 8, Romance Literature.
Hall 9, Petrology and Mineralogy.
Hall 10, Electrical Engineering.
Hall 11, Geography.
Hall 12, The Library.
Hall 13, Neurology.
Hall 14, The Industrial Group.
Hall 15, Political Theory and
National Administration.
Hall 16, Physiological Chemistry.
Adjournment at 6 P. M.
* * * * *
FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 23.
Meeting at 10 A. M.
Hall 1, New Testament.
Hall 2, Experimental Psychology.
Hall 3, Germanic Literature.
Hall 4, Physiology.
Hall 5, The Dependent Group.
Hall 6, Ethics.
Hall 7, Plant Pathology.
Hall 8, Brahmanism and Buddhism.
Hall 9, Latin Language.
Hall 10, Transportation.
Hall 11, Physics of Matter.
Hall 12, The School.
Hall 13, Surgery.
Hall 15, Social Psychology.
Hall 16, Technical Chemistry.
Adjournment at 1 P. M.
Meeting at 3 P. M.
Hall 1, Diplomacy.
Hall 2, History of Economic Institutions.
Hall 3, English Language.
Hall 4, Æsthetics.
Hall 5, The Criminal Group.
Hall 6, General Psychology.
Hall 7, Ecology.
Hall 8, Mohammedism.
Hall 9, Embryology.
Hall 10, Mechanical Engineering.
Hall 11, Physics of Ether.
Hall 12, The College.
Hall 13, Internal Medicine.
Hall 14, Private Law.
Hall 15, Religious Agencies.
Hall 16, Somatology.
Adjournment at 6 P. M.
* * * * *
SATURDAY. SEPTEMBER 24.
Meeting at 10 A. M.
Hall 1, History of America.
Hall 2, History of the Christian Church.
Hall 3, Belles-Lettres.
Hall 4, Colonial Administration.
Hall 5, Romance Languages.
Hall 6, Comparative and Genetic Psychology.
Hall 7, Ophthalmology.
Hall 8, History of Asia.
Hall 9, Geometry.
Hall 10, Commerce and Exchange.
Hall 11, Mining Engineering.
Hall 12, The University.
Hall 13, Gynecology.
Hall 14, Constitutional Law.
Hall 15, Bacteriology.
Hall 16, Archæology.
Adjournment at 1 P. M.
Meeting at 3 P. M.
Hall 1, Religious Work.
Hall 2, Comparative Anatomy.
Hall 3, Germanic Languages.
Hall 4, Modern Painting.
Hall 5, Money and Credit.
Hall 6, Abnormal Psychology.
Hall 7, Applied Mathematics.
Hall 8, Indo-Iranian Literature.
Hall 10, Agriculture.
Hall 11, . . . . . . . . .
Hall 12, Educational Theory.
Hall 13, Therapeutics and Pharmacology.
Hall 14, Comparative Law.
Hall 15, Municipal Administration.
Hall 16, Ethnology.
Adjournment at 6 P. M.
* * * * *
SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 25.
_Festival Hall._
Meeting at 10 A. M.
Religious Influence: Personal.
Meeting at 3 P. M.
Religious Influence: Social.
PROGRAMME OF SOCIAL EVENTS
* * * * *
MONDAY EVENING, SEPTEMBER 19.--Grand Fête night in honor of the Congress
of Arts and Science. Special illuminations about the Grand Basin. Lagoon
fête.
Banquet by the St. Louis Chemical Society, at the Southern Hotel, to the
members of the Chemical Sections.
TUESDAY EVENING, SEPTEMBER 20.--General Reception by Board of Lady
Managers to the officers and speakers of the Congress and officials of
the Exposition.
WEDNESDAY AFTERNOON, SEPTEMBER 21.--Garden fête to be given to the
members of the Congress of Arts and Science, at the French Pavilion, by
the Commissioner-General from France.
WEDNESDAY EVENING, SEPTEMBER 21.--General reception by the German
Imperial Commissioner-General to the members of the Congress of Arts and
Science, at the German State House.
THURSDAY EVENING.--Shaw banquet at the Buckingham Club to the foreign
delegates.
FRIDAY EVENING, SEPTEMBER 23.--General banquet to the speakers and
officials of the Congress of Arts and Science in the banquet hall of the
Tyrolean Alps. 8 P. M.
SATURDAY EVENING, SEPTEMBER 24.--Banquet at St. Louis Club by Round
Table of St. Louis, to the foreign members of the Congress.
Banquet given by Imperial Commissioner-General from Japan to the
Japanese delegation to the Congress and Exposition officials.
Dinner given by Commissioner-General from Great Britain to the English
members of the Congress.
ALPHABETICAL LIST OF MEMBERS WHO MADE 10-MINUTE ADDRESSES
* * * * *
The following list differs from the original programme, in that it
contains the names only of those who actually read addresses. It was
planned that each Section should meet for three hours. When authors of
ten-minute papers were not present, and where not enough of these
shorter papers were offered to fill out the time, the Chairmen invited
discussions from the floor until the time was filled.
Professor R. G. Aitken Lick Observatory Astronomy
James W. Alexander, Esq. New York City Insurance
Frederick Almy Buffalo, N. Y. Social Science
Professor S. G. Ashmore Union College Latin Language
Professor L. A. Bauer Carnegie Institute Cosmical Physics
Dr. Marcus Benjamin National Museum Technical Chemistry
Professor H. T. Blickfeldt Leland Stanford Univ. Geometry
Professor Ernest W. Brown Haverford College Lunar Theory
Dr. Henry Dickson Bruns New Orleans Municipal
Administration
Dr. F. K. Cameron Dep't of Agriculture Physical Chemistry
Rear-Admiral C. M. Chester, United States Naval Astronomy
U. S. N. Observatory
H. H. Clayton, Esq. Blue Hill Observatory Cosmical Physics
Professor Charles A. Coffin New York City Modern Painting
Dr. George Coronilas Athens, Greece Tuberculosis
Professor J. E. Denton Stevens Institute Mechanical
Engineering
Professor L. W. Dowling Univ. of Wisconsin Geometry
Professor H. C. Elmer Cornell Univ. Latin Language
Professor A. Emch Univ. of Colorado Geometry
Professor H. R. Fanclough Leland Stanford Univ. Classical Literature
Professor W. S. Ferguson Univ. of California History of Greece,
Rome, and Asia
Dr. Carlos Finley Havana Pathology
Dr. C. E. Fisk Centralia, Ill. History of America
Homer Folks, Esq. New York City Social Science
Professor F. C. French Univ. of Nebraska Philosophy of
Religion
H. L. Gannt, Esq. Schenectady, N. Y. Mechanical
Engineering
Dr. F. P. Gorham Brown Univ. Bacteriology
Professor Evarts B. Greene Univ. of Illinois History of America
Stansbury Hagar, Esq. Brooklyn, N.Y. Ethnology
J. D. Hague, Esq. New York City Mining Engineering
Professor G. B. Halstead Kenyon College Geometry
Professor A. D. F. Hamlin Columbia Univ. Æsthetics
Professor H. Hancock Univ. of Cincinnati Geometry
Professor J. A. Harris St. Louis, Mo. Plant Morphology
Professor M. W. Haskell Univ. of California Algebra and Analysis
Professor J. T. Hatfield Northwestern Univ. Germanic Language
Professor E. C. Hayes Miami Univ. Social Psychology
Professor W. E. Heidel Iowa College Greek Language
Dr. C. L. Herrick Granville, Ohio Neurology
Dr. C. Judson Herrick Granville, Ohio Animal Morphology
Professor W. H. Hobbs Univ. of Wisconsin Petrology and
Mineralogy
Professor A. R. Hohlfeld Univ. of Wisconsin Germanic Literature
Professor H. H. Horne Dartmouth College Educational Theory
Dr. E. V. Huntington Harvard Univ. Algebra and Analysis
Dr. Reid Hunt U. S. Marine Hospital Alcohol, etc.
Dr. J. N. Hurty Indianapolis, Ind. Public Health
Professor J. J. Hutchinson Cornell Univ. Algebra and Analysis
Rev. Thomas E. Judge Catholic Review of General Religious
Reviews Education
Professor L. Kahlenburg Univ. of Wisconsin Physical Chemistry
Professor Albert G. Keller Yale University Municipal
Administration
Professor George Lefevre Univ. of Missouri Comparative Anatomy
President Henry C. King Oberlin College Education, The
College
Dr. Ira Landrith Belmont College Religious Agencies
Professor M. D. Learned Univ. of Pennsylvania Germanic Literature
Professor A. O. Leuschner Univ. of California Astronomy
Dr. E. P. Lyon St. Louis Univ. Physiology
Dr. Duncan B. Macdonald Hartford Theological Semitic Languages
Seminary
Professor A. MacFarlane Chatham, Ontario Applied Mathematics
Professor James McMahon Cornell Univ. Applied Mathematics
Mr. Edward Mallinckrodt St. Louis, Mo. Chemistry
Professor H. P. Manning Brown Univ. Geometry
Professor G. A. Miller Leland Stanford Univ. Algebra and
Analysis.
Dr. W. C. Mills Ohio State Univ. Archæology
Professor W. S. Milner Univ. of Toronto Classical Literature
Professor F. G. Moore Dartmouth College Classical Literature
Dr. W. P. Montague Columbia Univ. Metaphysics
Clarence B. Moore, Esq. Philadelphia Archæology.
Professor F. R. Moulton Univ. of Chicago Astronomy.
Dr. J. G. Needham Lake Forest Univ. Animal Morphology
Professor Alex. T. Ormond Princeton Univ. Philosophy of
Religion
Professor Frederic L. Paxton Univ. of Colorado History of America
Dr. Carl Pfister St. Mark's Hospital, Surgery
New York City
Professor M. B. Porter Univ. of Texas Algebra and Analysis
Dr. A. J. Reynolds Chicago Public Health
Professor S. P. Sadtler Philadelphia College Technical Chemistry
of Pharmacy
Dr. John A. Sampson Albany, N. Y. Gynæcology
Oswald Schreiner, Esq. U. S. Dep't of Chemistry
Agriculture
Rev. Frank Sewall Washington, D. C. Social Science, The
Family
Professor H. C. Sheldon Boston Univ. History of the
Christian Church
Professor Frank C. Sharp Univ. of Wisconsin Ethics
Professor J. B. Shaw Milliken Univ. Algebra and Analysis
Professor W. B. Smith Tulane Univ. New Testament
Professor Marshall S. Snow Washington Univ History of America
Professor Henry Snyder Univ. of Minnesota Social Science
Professor Edwain D. Starbuck Earlham College General Religious
Professor George B. Stewart Auburn Theological Professional
Seminary Religious Education
John M. Stahl Quincy, Ill. The Rural Community
Professor J. Stieglitz Univ. of Chicago Chemistry
Professor Robert Stein U. S. Geological
Survey Comparative Language
Mr. Teitaro Suzuki La Salle, Ill. Brahmanism and
Buddhism
Col. T. W. Symonds, U. S. A. Washington, D. C. Civil Engineering
Professor Teissier Lyons, France Pathology
Judge W. H. Thomas Montgomery, Ala. Private Law
Professor O. H. Tittmann U. S. C. and G. Survey Astronomy
Professor Alfred M. Tozzer Peabody Museum Anthropology
Dr. Benjamin F. Trueblood Univ. of Missouri Medieval History
Professor Clyde W. Votaw Univ. of Chicago New Testament
Professor John B. Watson Univ. of Chicago Psychology
Professor H. L. Willett Disciples Divinity Professional
House, Chicago Religious Education
President Mary E. Woolley Mt. Holyoke College Education, The
College
H. Zwaarddemaker Utrecht Otology and
Laryngology
THE SCIENTIFIC PLAN OF THE CONGRESS
BY PROF. HUGO MÜNSTERBERG
I
THE PURPOSE OF THE CONGRESS
1. _The Centralization of the Congress_
The history of the Congress has been told. It remains to set forth the
principles which controlled the work of the Congress week, and thus
scientifically to introduce the scholarly undertaking, the results of
which are to speak for themselves in the eight volumes of this
publication. Yet in a certain way this scientific introduction has once
more to use the language of history. It does not deal with the external
development of the Congress, and the story which it has to tell is thus
not one of dates and names and events. But the principles which shaped
the whole undertaking have themselves a claim to historical treatment;
they do not lie before us simply as the subject for a logical
disputation or as a plea for a future work. That was the situation of
three years ago. At that time various ideas and opposing principles
entered into the arena of discussion; but now, since the work is
completed, the question can be only of what principles, right or wrong,
have really determined the programme. We have thus to interpret that
state of mind out of which the purposes and the scientific arrangement
of the Congress resulted; and no after-thought of to-day would be a
desirable addition. Whatever possible improvements of the plan may
suggest themselves in the retrospect can be given only a closing word.
It was certainly easy to learn from experience, but first the experience
had to be passed through. We have here to interpret the view from that
standpoint from which the experience of the Congress was still a matter
of the future, and of an uncertain future indeed, full of doubts and
fears, and yet full of hopes and possibilities.
The St. Louis World's Fair promised, through the vast extent of its
grounds, through the beautiful plans of the buildings, through the
eagerness of the United States, through the participation of all
countries on earth, and through the gigantic outlines of the internal
plans, to become the most monumental expression of the energies with
which the twentieth century entered on its course. Commerce and
industry, art and social work, politics and education, war and peace,
country and city. Orient and Occident, were all to be focussed for a few
summer months in the ivory city of the Mississippi Valley. It seemed
most natural that science and productive scholarship should also find
its characteristic place among the factors of our modern civilization.
Of course the scientist had his word to say on almost every square foot
of the Exposition. Whether the building was devoted to electricity or to
chemistry, to anthropology or to metallurgy, to civic administration or
to medicine, to transportation or to industrial arts, it was everywhere
the work of the scientist which was to win the triumph; and the Palace
of Education, the first in any universal exposition, was to combine
under its roof not only the school work of all countries, but the
visible record of the world's universities and technical schools as
well. And yet it seemed not enough to gather the products and records of
science and to make science serve with its tools and inventions. Modern
art, too, was to reign over every hall and to beautify every palace, and
yet demanded its own unfolding in the gallery of paintings and
sculptures. In the same way it was not enough for science to penetrate a
hundred exhibitions and turn the wheels in every hall, but it must also
seek to concentrate all its energies in one spot and show the
cross-section of human knowledge in our time, and, above all, its own
methods.
An exhibition of scholarship cannot be arranged for the eyes. The great
work which grows day by day in quiet libraries and laboratories, and on
a thousand university platforms, can express itself only through words.
Yet heaped up printed volumes would be dead to a World's Fair spectator;
how to make such words living was the problem. Above all, scholarship
does not really exhibit its methods, if it does not show itself in
production. It is no longer scholarship which speaks of a truth-seeking
that has been performed instead of going on with the search for further
truth. If the world's science was to be exhibited, a form had to be
sought in which the scholarly work on the spot would serve the ideals of
knowledge, would add to the storehouse of truth, and would thus work in
the service of human progress at the same moment in which it contributed
to the completeness of the exhibition.
The effort was not without precedent. Scholarly production had been
connected with earlier expositions, and the large gatherings of scholars
at the Paris Exposition were still in vivid memory. A large number of
scientific congresses of specialists had been held there, and many
hundred scholarly papers had been read. Yet the results hardly suggested
the repetition of such an experiment. Every one felt too strongly that
the outcome of such disconnected congresses of specialists is hardly
comparable with the glorious showing which the arts and industries have
made and were to make again. In every other department of the World's
Fair the most careful preparation secured an harmonious effect. The
scholarly meetings alone failed even to aim at harmony and unity. Not
only did the congresses themselves stand apart without any inner
relation, grouped together by calendar dates or by their alphabetical
order from Anthropology to Zoölogy; but in every congress, again, the
papers read and the manuscripts presented were disconnected pieces
without any programme or correlation. Worse than that, they could not
even be expected in their isolatedness to add anything which would not
have been worked out and communicated to the world just as well without
any congress. The speaker at such a meeting is asked to contribute
anything he has at hand, and he accepts the invitation because he has by
chance a completed paper or a research ready for publication. In the
best case it would have appeared in the next number of the specialistic
magazine, in not infrequent cases it has appeared already in the last
number. Such a congress is then only an accident and does not itself
serve the progress of knowledge.
Even that would be acceptable if at least the best scholars would come
out with their latest investigations, or, still more delightful, if they
would enter into an important discussion. But experience has too often
shown that the conditions are most favorable for the opposite outcome.
The leading scholars stay away partly to give beginners the chance to be
heard, partly not to be grouped with those who habitually have the floor
at such gatherings. These are either the men whose day has gone by or
those whose day has not yet come; and both groups tyrannize alike an
unwilling audience. Yet it may be said that in scientific meetings of
specialists the reading of papers is non-essential and no harm is done
even if they do not contribute anything to the status of scholarship;
their great value lies in the personal contact of fellow workers and in
the discussions and informal exchange of opinions. All that is true, and
completely justifies the yearly meetings of scholarly associations. But
these advantages are much diminished whenever such gatherings take on an
international character, and thus introduce the confusion of tongues.
And hardly any one can doubt that the turmoil of a world's fair is about
the worst possible background for such exchange of thought, which
demands repose and quietude. Yet even with the certainty of all these
disadvantages the city of Paris, with its large body of scholars, with
its venerable scholarly traditions, and with its incomparable
attractions, could overcome every resistance, and its convenient
location made it natural that in vacation time, in an exposition summer,
the scholars should gather there, not on account of, but in spite of,
the hundred congresses. With this the city of St. Louis could make no
claim to rivalry. Its recent growth, its minimum of scholarly tradition,
its great distance from the old centres of knowledge even in the New
World, the apathy of the East and the climatic fears of Europe, all
together made it clear that a mere repetition of unrelated congresses
would be not only useless, but a disastrous failure. These very fears,
however, themselves suggested the remedy.
If the scholarly work of our time was to be represented at St. Louis,
something had to be attempted which should be not simply an imitation of
the branch-congresses which every scientific specialty in every country
is calling every year. Scholarship was to be asked to show itself really
in process, and to produce for the World's Fair meeting something which
without it would remain undone. To invite the scholars of the world for
their leisurely enjoyment and reposeful discussion of work done
elsewhere is one thing; to call them together for work which they would
not do otherwise, and which ought to be done, is a very different thing.
The first had in St. Louis all odds against it; it seemed worth while to
try the second. And it seemed not only worth while in the interest of
scholarship, it seemed, above all, the only way to give to the
scholarship of our time a chance for the complete demonstration of its
productive energies.
The plan of unrelated congresses, with chance combinations of papers
prepared at random, was therefore definitively replaced by the plan of
only one representative gathering, bound together by one underlying
thought, given thus the unity of one scholarly aim, whose fulfillment is
demanded by the scientific needs of our time, and is hardly to be
reached by other methods. Every arbitrary and individual choice was then
to be eliminated and every effort was to be controlled by the one
central purpose; the work thus to be organized and prepared with the
same carefulness of adjustment and elaboration which was doubtless to be
applied in the admirable exhibitions of the United States Government or
in the art exhibition. The open question was, of course, what topic
could fulfill these various demands most completely; wherein lay the
greatest scholarly need of our time; what task could be least realized
by the casual efforts of scholarship at random; where was the unity of a
world organization most needed?
One thought was very naturally suggested by the external circumstances.
St. Louis had asked the nations of the world to a celebration of the
Louisiana Purchase. Historical thoughts thus gave meaning and importance
to the whole undertaking. The pride of one century's development had
stimulated the gigantic work from its inception. An immense territory
had been transformed from a half wilderness into a land with a rich
civilization, and with a central city in which eight thousand factories
are at work. No thought lay nearer than to ask how far this century was
of similar importance for the changes in the world of thought. How have
the sciences developed themselves since the days of the Louisiana
Purchase? That is a topic which with complete uniformity might be asked
from every special science, and which might thus offer a certain unity
of aim to scholars of all scientific denominations. There was indeed no
doubt that such an historical question would have to be raised if we
were to live up to the commemorative idea of the whole Fair. And yet it
seemed still more certain that the retrospective problem did not justify
itself as a central topic for a World's Congress. There were sciences
for which the story of the last hundred years was merely the last
chapter of a history of three thousand years and other sciences whose
life history did not begin until one or two decades ago. It would thus
be a very external uniformity; the question would have a very different
meaning for the various branches of knowledge, and the treatment would
be of very unequal interest and importance. More than that, it would not
abolish the unrelated character of the endeavors; while the same topic
might be given everywhere, yet every science would remain isolated;
there would be no internal unity, and thus no inner reason for bringing
together the best workers of all spheres. And finally the mere
retrospective attitude brings with it the depressing mood of perfunctory
activity. Certainly to look back on the advance of a century can be most
suggestive for a better understanding of the way which lies before us;
and we felt indeed that the occasion for such a backward glance ought
not to be missed. Yet there would be something lifeless if the whole
meeting were devoted to the consideration of work that had been
completed; a kind of necrological sentiment would pervade the whole
ceremony, while our chief aim was to serve the progress of knowledge and
thus to stimulate living interests.
This language of life spoke indeed in the programme of another plan
which seemed also to be suggested by the character of the Exposition.
The St. Louis Fair desired not merely to look backward and to revive the
historical interest in the Louisiana purchase, but its first aim seemed
to be to bring into sharp relief the factors which serve to-day the
practical welfare and the achievements of human society. If all the
scholars of all sciences were to convene under one flag, would it not
thus seem most harmonious with the occasion, if, as the one controlling
topic, the question were proposed, "What does your science contribute to
the practical progress of mankind?" No one can deny that such a
formulation would fit in well with the lingering thoughts of every
World's Fair visitor. Whoever wanders through the aisles of exhibition
palaces and sees amassed the marvelous achievements of industry and
commerce, and the thousand practical arts of modern society, may indeed
turn most naturally to a gathering of scholars with the question, "What
have you to offer of similar import?" All your thinking and speaking and
writing, are they merely words on words, or do you also turn the wheels
of this gigantic civilization?
Such a question would give a noble opening indeed to almost every
science. Who would say that the opportunity is confined to the man of
technical science? Does not the biologist also prepare the achievements
of modern medicine, does not the mathematician play his most important
rôle in our mastery over stubborn nature, do we not need language for
our social intercourse, and law and religion for our practical social
improvement? Yes, is there any science which has not directly or
indirectly something to contribute to the practical development of the
modern man and his civilization? All this is true, and yet the
perspective of this truth, too, appears at once utterly distorted if we
take the standpoint of science itself. The one end of knowledge is to
reach the truth. The belief in the absolute value of truth gives to it
meaning and significance. This value remains the controlling influence
even where the problem to be solved is itself a practical one, and the
spirit of science remains thus essentially theoretical even in the
so-called applied sciences. But incomparably more intense in that
respect is the spirit of all theoretical disciplines. Philosophy and
mathematics, history and philology, chemistry and biology, astronomy and
geology, may be and ought to be helpful to practical civilization
everywhere; and every step forward which they take will be an advance
for man's practical life too. And yet their real meaning never lies in
their technical by-product. It is not the scholar who peers in the
direction of practical use who is most loyal to the deepest demand of
scholarship, and every relation to practical achievement is more or less
accidental or even artificial for the real life interests of productive
scholarship.
But if the contrast between his real intention and his social technical
successes may not appear striking to the physicist or chemist, it would
appear at least embarrassing to the scholars in many other departments
and directly bewildering to not a few. Perhaps two thirds of the
sciences to which the best thinkers of our time are faithfully devoted
would then be grouped together and relegated to a distant corner, their
only practical technical function would be to contribute material to the
education of the cultured man. For what else do we study Sanscrit or
medieval history or epistemology? And finally even the uniform topic of
practical use would not have brought the different sciences nearer to
each other; the Congress would still have remained a budget of
disconnected records of scholarship. If the practical side of the
Exposition was to suggest anything, it should then not be more than an
appeal not to overlook the importance of the applied sciences which too
often play the rôle of a mere appendix to the system of knowledge. The
logical one-sidedness which considers practical needs as below the
dignity of pure science was indeed to be excluded, but to choose
practical service as the one controlling topic would be far more
anti-scientific.
2. _The Unity of Knowledge_
There was another side of the Exposition plan which suggested a stronger
topic. The World's Fair was not only an historical memorial work, and
was not only a show of the practical tools of technical civilization;
its deepest aim was after all the effort to bring the energies of our
time into inner relation. The peoples of the whole globe, separated by
oceans and mountains, by language and custom, by politics and prejudice,
were here to come in contact and to be brought into correlation by
better mutual understanding of the best features of their respective
cultures. The various industries and arts, the most antagonistic efforts
of commerce and production, separated by the rivalry of the market and
by the diversity of economic interests were here to be brought together
in harmony, were to be correlated for the eye of the spectator. It was a
near-lying thought to choose correlation as the controlling thought of a
scientific World's Congress too. That was the topic which was finally
agreed upon: the inner relation of the sciences of our day.
The fitness and the external advantages of such a scheme are evident.
First of all, the danger of disconnectedness now disappears completely.
If the sciences are to examine what binds them together, their usual
isolation must be given up for the time being and a concerted effort
must control the day. The bringing together of scholars of all
scientific specialties is then no longer a doubtful accidental feature,
but becomes a condition of the whole undertaking. More than that, such a
topic, with all that it involves, makes it a matter of course that the
call goes out to the really leading scholars of the time. To aim at a
correlation of sciences means to seek for the fundamental principles in
each territory of knowledge and to look with far-seeing eye beyond the
limits of its field; but just this excludes from the outset those who
like to be the self-appointed speakers in routine gatherings. It
excludes from the first the narrow specialist who does not care for
anything but for his latest research, and ought to exclude not less the
vague spirits who generalize about facts of which they have no concrete
substantial knowledge, as their suggestions towards correlation would
lack inner productiveness and outer authority. Such a plan has room only
for those men who stand high enough to see the whole field and who have
yet the full authority of the specialistic investigator; they must
combine the concentration on specialized productive work with the
inspiration that comes from looking over vast regions. With such a topic
the usual question does not come up whether one or another strong man
would feel attracted to take part in the gathering, but it would be
justified and necessary to confine the active participation from the
outset to those who are leaders, and thus to guarantee from the
beginning a representation of science equal in dignity to the best
efforts of the exhibiting countries in all other departments. In this
way such a plan had the advantage of justifying through its topic the
administrative desire to bring all sciences to the same spot, and at the
same time of excluding all participants but the best scholars: with
isolated gatherings or with second-rate men, this subject would have
been simply impossible.
Yet all these halfway external advantages count little compared with the
significance and importance of the topic for the inner life of
scientific thought of our time. We all felt it was the one topic which
the beginning of the twentieth century demanded and which could not be
dealt with otherwise than by the combined labors of all nations and of
all sciences. The World's Fair was the one great opportunity to make a
first effort in this direction; we had no right to miss this
opportunity. Thus it was decided to have a congress with the definite
purpose of working towards the unity of human knowledge, and with the
one mission, in this time of scattered specializing work, of bringing to
the consciousness of the world the too much neglected idea of the unity
of truth. To quote from our first tentative programme: "Let the rush of
the world's work stop for one moment for us to consider what are the
underlying principles, what are their relations to one another and to
the whole, what are their values and purposes; in short, let us for once
give to the world's sciences a holiday. The workaday functions are much
better fulfilled in separation, when each scholar works in his own
laboratory or in his library; but this holiday task of bringing out the
underlying unity, this synthetic work, this demands really the
coöperation of all, this demands that once at least all sciences come
together in one place at one time."
Yet if our work stands for the unity of knowledge, aims to consider the
fundamental conceptions which bind together all the specialistic
results, and seeks to inquire into the methods which are common to
various fields, all this is after all merely a symptom of the whole
spirit of our times. A reaction against the narrowness of mere
fact-diggers has set in. A mere heaping up of disconnected, unshaped
facts begins to disappoint the world; it is felt too vividly that a mere
dictionary of phenomena, of events and laws, makes our knowledge larger
but not deeper, makes our life more complex but not more valuable, makes
our science more difficult but not more harmonious. Our time longs for a
new synthesis and looks towards science no longer merely with a desire
for technical prescriptions and new inventions in the interest of
comfort and exchange. It waits for knowledge to fulfill its higher
mission, it waits for science to satisfy our higher needs for a view of
the world which shall give unity to our scattered experience. The
indications of this change are visible to every one who observes the
gradual turning to philosophical discussion in the most different fields
of scientific life.
When after the first third of the nineteenth century the great
philosophic movement which found its climax in Hegelianism came to
disaster in consequence of its absurd neglect of hard solid facts, the
era of naturalism began its triumph with contempt for all philosophy and
for all deeper unity. Idealism and philosophy were stigmatized as the
enemies of true science and natural science had its great day. The rapid
progress of physics and chemistry fascinated the world and produced
modern technique; the sciences of life, physiology, biology, medicine,
followed; and the scientific method was carried over from body to mind,
and gave us at the end of the nineteenth century modern psychology and
sociology. The lifeless and the living, the physical and the mental, the
individual and the social, all had been conquered by analytical methods.
But just when the climax was reached and all had been analyzed and
explained, the time was ripe for disillusion, and the lack of deeper
unity began to be felt with alarm in every quarter. For seventy years
there had been nowhere so much philosophizing going on as suddenly
sprung up among the scientists of the last decade. The physicists and
the mathematicians, the chemists and the biologists, the geologists and
the astronomers, and, on the other side, the historians and the
economists, the psychologists and the sociologists, the jurists and the
theologians--all suddenly found themselves again in the midst of
discussions on fundamental principles and methods, on general categories
and conditions of knowledge, in short, in the midst of the despised
philosophy. And with those discussions has come the demand for
correlation. Everywhere have arisen leaders who have brought unconnected
sciences together and emphasized the unity of large divisions. The time
seems to have come again when the wave of naturalism and realism is
ebbing, and a new idealistic philosophical tide is swelling, just as
they have always alternated in the civilization of two thousand years.
No one dreams, of course, that the great synthetic apperception, for
which our modern time seems ripe, will come through the delivery of some
hundred addresses, or the discussions of some hundred audiences. An
ultimate unity demands the gigantic thought of a single genius, and the
work of the many can, after all, be merely the preparation for the final
work of the one. And yet history shows that the one will never come if
the many have not done their share. What is needed is to fill the
sciences of our time with the growing consciousness of belonging
together, with the longing for fundamental principles, with the
conviction that the desire for correlation is not the fancy of dreamers,
but the immediate need of the leaders of thought. And in this
preparatory work the St. Louis Congress of Arts and Science seemed
indeed called for an important part when it was committed to this topic
of correlation.
To call the scholars of the world together for concerted action towards
the correlation of knowledge meant, of course, first of all, to work out
a detailed programme, and to select the best authorities for every
special part of the whole scheme. Nothing could be left to chance
methods and to casual contributions. The preparation needed the same
administrative strictness which would be demanded for an encyclopedia,
and the same scholarly thoroughness which would be demanded for the most
scientific research. A plan was to be devised in which every possible
striving for truth would find its place, and in which every section
would have its definite position in the system. And such a ground-plan
given, topics were to be assigned to every department and
sub-department, the treatment of which would bring out the fundamental
principles and the inner relations in such a way that the papers would
finally form a close-woven intellectual fabric. There would be plenty of
room for a retrospective glance at the historical development of the
sciences and plenty of room for emphasis on their practical
achievements; but the central place would always belong to the effort
towards unity and internal harmonization.
We thus divided human knowledge into large parts, and the parts into
divisions, and the divisions into departments, and the departments into
sections. As the topic of the general divisions--we proposed seven of
them--it was decided to discuss the Unity of the whole field. As topic
for the departments--we had twenty-four of them--the addresses were to
discuss the fundamental Conceptions and Methods and the Progress during
the last century; and in the sections, finally--our plan provided for
one hundred and twenty-eight of them--the topics were in every one the
Relation of the special branch to other branches, and those most
important Present Problems which are essential for the deeper principles
of the special field. In this way the ground-plan itself suggested the
unity of the practically separated sciences; and, moreover, our plan
provided from the first that this logical relation should express itself
externally in the time order of the work. We were to begin with the
meetings of the large divisions, the meetings of the departments were to
follow, and the meetings of the sections and their ramifications would
follow the departmental gatherings.
3. _The Objections to the Plan_
It was evident that even the most modest success of that gigantic
undertaking depended upon the right choice of speakers, upon the value
of the ground-plan, and upon many external conditions; thus no one was
in doubt as to the difficulty in realizing such a scheme. Yet there were
from the scholarly side itself objections to the principles involved,
objections which might hold even if those other conditions were
successfully met. The most immediate reason for reluctance lies in the
specializing tendencies of our time. Those who devote all their working
energy as loyal sons of our analyzing period of science to the minute
detail of research come easily into the habit of a nervous fear with
regard to any wider general outlook. The man of research sees too often
how ignorance hides itself behind generalities. He knows too well how
much easier it is to formulate vague generalities than to contribute a
new fact to human knowledge, and how often untrained youngsters succeed
with popular text-books which are rightly forgotten the next day.
Methodical science must thus almost encourage this aversion to any
deviation from the path of painstaking specialistic labor. Then, of
course, it seems almost a scientific duty to declare war against an
undertaking which explicitly asks everywhere for the wide perspectives
and the last principles, and does not aim at adding at this moment to
the mere treasury of information.
But such a view is utterly one-sided, and to fight against such
one-sidedness and to overcome the specializing narrowness of the
scattered sciences was the one central idea of the plan. If there
existed no scholars who despise the philosophizing connection, there
would have hardly been any need for this whole undertaking; but to yield
to such philosophy-phobia means to declare the analytic movement of
science permanent, and to postpone a synthetic movement indefinitely.
Our time has just to emphasize, and the leaders of thought daily
emphasize it more, that a mere heaping up of information can be merely a
preparation for knowledge, and that the final aim is a _Weltanschauung_,
a unified view of the whole of reality. All that our Congress had to
secure was thus merely that the generalizing discussion of principles
should not be left to men who generalized because they lacked the
substantial knowledge which is necessary to specialize. The thinkers we
needed were those who through specialistic work were themselves led to a
point where the discussion of general principles becomes unavoidable.
Our plan was by no means antagonistic to the patient labors of analysis;
the aim was merely to overcome its one-sidedness and to stimulate the
synthesis as a necessary supplement.
But the objections against a generalizing plan were not confined to the
mistaken fear that we sought to antagonize the productive work of the
specialist. They not seldom took the form of a general aversion to the
logical side of the ground-plan. It was often said that such a scheme
has after all interest only for the logician, for whom science as such
is an object of study, and who must thus indeed classify the sciences
and determine their logical relation. The real scientist, it was said,
does not care for such methodological operations, and should be
suspicious from the first of such philosophical high-handedness. The
scientist cannot forget how often in the history of civilization science
was the loser when it trusted its problems to the metaphysical thinker
who substituted his lofty speculations for the hard work of the
investigator. The true scholar will thus not only object to generalizing
"commonplaces" as against solid information, but he will object as well
to logical demarcation lines and systematization as against the
practical scientific work which does not want to be hampered by such
philosophical subtleties. Yet all these fears and suspicions were still
more mistaken.
Nothing was further from our intentions than a substitution of
metaphysics for concrete science. It was not by chance that we took such
pains to find the best specialists for every section. No one was invited
to enter into logical discussions and to consider the relations of
science merely from a dialectic point of view. The topic was everywhere
the whole living manifoldness of actual relations, and the logician had
nothing else to do than to prepare the programme. The outlines of the
programme demanded, of course, a certain logical scheme. If hundreds of
sciences are to take part, they have to be grouped somehow, if a merely
alphabetical order is not adopted; and even if we were to proceed
alphabetically, we should have to decide beforehand what part of
knowledge is to be recognized as a special science. But the logical
order of the ground-plan refers, of course, merely to the simple
relation of coördination, subordination, and superordination, and the
logician is satisfied with such a classification. But the endless
variety of internal relations is no longer to be dealt with from the
point of view of mere logic. We may work out the ground-plan in such a
way that we understand that logically zoölogy is coördinated to botany
and subordinated to mechanics and superordinated to ichthyology; but
this minimum of determination gives, of course, not even a hint of that
world of relations which exists from the standpoint of the biologist
between the science of zoölogy and the science of botany, or between the
biological and the mechanical studies. To discuss these relations of
real scientific life is the work of the biologist and not at all of the
logician.
The foregoing answers also at once an objection which might seem more
justified at the first glance. It has been said that we were undertaking
the work of bringing about a synthesis of scientific endeavors, and that
we yet had that synthesis already completed in the programme on which
the work was to be based. The scholars to be invited would be bound by
the programme, and would therefore have no other possibility than to say
with more words what the programme had settled beforehand. The whole
effort would then seem determined from the start by the arbitrariness of
the proposed ground-plan. Now it cannot be denied indeed that a certain
factor of arbitrariness has to enter into a programme. We have already
referred to the fact that some one must decide beforehand what fraction
of science is to be acknowledged as a self-dependent discipline. If a
biologist were to work out the scheme, he might decide that the whole of
philosophy was just one science; while the philosopher might claim a
large number of sections for logic and ethics and philosophy of
religion, and so on. And the philosopher, on the other hand, might treat
the whole of medicine as one part in itself, while the physician might
hold that even otology has to be separated from rhinology. A certain
subjectivity of standpoint is unavoidable, and we know very well that
instead of the one hundred and twenty-eight sections of our programme we
might have been satisfied with half that number or might have indulged
in double that number. And yet there was no possible plan which would
have allowed us to invite the speakers without defining beforehand the
sectional field which each was to represent. A certain courage of
opinion was then necessary, and sometimes also a certain adjustment to
external conditions.
Quite similar was the question of classification. Just as we had to take
the responsibility for the staking-out of every section, we had also to
decide in favor of a certain grouping, if we desired to organize the
Congress and not simply to bring out haphazard results. The principles
which are sufficient for a mere directory would never allow the shaping
of a programme which can be the basis for synthetic work. Even a
university catalogue begins with a certain classification, and yet no
one fancies that such catalogue grouping inhibits the freedom of the
university lecturer. It is easy to say, as has been said, that the
essential trait of the scientific life of to-day is its
live-and-let-live character. Certainly it is. In the regular work in our
libraries and laboratories the year round, everything depends upon this
democratic freedom in which every one goes his own way, hardly asking
what his neighbor is doing. It is that which has made the specialistic
sciences of our day as strong as they are. But it has brought about at
the same time this extreme tendency to unrelated specialization with its
discouraging lack of unity; this heaping up of information without an
outer harmonious view of the world; and if we were really at least once
to satisfy the desire for unity, then we had not the right to yield
fully to this live-and-let-live tendency. Therefore some principle of
grouping had to be accepted, and whatever principle had been chosen, it
would certainly have been open to the criticism that it was a product of
arbitrary decision, inasmuch as other principles might have been
possible.
A classification which in itself expresses all the practical relations
in which sciences stand to each other is, of course, absolutely
impossible. A programme which should try to arrange the place of a
special discipline in such a way that it would become the neighbor of
all those other sciences with which it has internal relation is
unthinkable. On the other hand, only if we had tried to construct a
scheme of such exaggerated ambitions should we have been really guilty
of anticipating a part of that which the specialistic scholars were to
tell us. The Congress had to leave it to the invited participants to
discuss the totality of relations which practically exist between their
fields and others, and the organizers confined themselves to that
minimum of classification which just indicates the pure logical
relations, a minimum which every editor of encyclopedic work would be
asked to initiate without awakening suspicions of interference with the
ideas of his contributors.
The only justified demand which could be met was that a system of
division and classification should be proposed which should give fair
play to every existing scientific tendency. The minimum of
classification was to be combined with the maximum of freedom, and to
secure that a careful consideration of principles was indeed necessary.
To bring logical order into the sciences which stand out clearly with
traditional rights is not difficult; but the chances are too great that
certain tendencies of thought might fail to find recognition or might be
suppressed by scientific prejudice. Any serious omission would indeed
have necessarily inhibited the freedom of expression. To secure thus the
greatest inner fullness of the programme, seemed indeed the most
important task in the elaboration of the ground-plan. The fears that we
might offer empty generalization instead of scholarly facts, or that we
might simply heap up encyclopedic information instead of gaining wide
perspectives, or that we might interfere with the living connections of
sciences by the logical demarcation lines, or that we might disturb the
scholar in his freedom by determining beforehand his place in the
classification,--all these fears and objections, which were repeatedly
raised when the plan was first proposed, seemed indeed unimportant
compared with the fear that the programme might be unable to include all
scientific tendencies of the time.
That would have been, indeed, the one fundamental mistake, as the whole
Congress work was planned in the service of the great synthetic movement
which pervades the intellectual life of to-day. The undertaking would be
useless and even hindering if it were not just the newer and deeper
tendencies that came to most complete expression in it. Everything
depended, therefore, upon the fullest possible representation of
scientific endeavors in the plan. But no one can become aware of this
manifoldness and of the logical relations who does not go back to the
ultimate principles of the human search for truth. We have, therefore,
to enter now into a full discussion of the principles which have
controlled the classification and subdivision of the whole work. The
discussion is necessarily in its essence a philosophical one, as it was
earlier made plain that philosophy must lay out the plan, while in the
realization of the plan through concrete work the scientist alone, and
not the logician, has to speak. Yet here again it may be said that while
our discussion of principles in its essence is logical, in another
respect it is a merely historical account. The question is not what
principles of classification are to be acknowledged as valuable now that
the work of the Congress lies behind us, but what principles were
accepted and really led to the organization of the work in that form in
which it presents itself in the records of the following volumes.
II
THE CLASSIFICATION OF THE SCIENCES
1. _The Development of Classification_
The problem of dividing and subdividing the whole of human knowledge and
of thus bringing order into the manifoldness of scientific efforts has
fascinated the leading thinkers of all ages. It may often be difficult
to say how far the new principles of classification themselves open the
way for new scientific progress and how far the great forward movements
of thought in the special sciences have in turn influenced the
principles of classification. In any case every productive age has
demanded the expression of its deepest energy in a new ordering of human
science. The history of these efforts leads from Plato and Aristotle to
Bacon and Locke, to Bentham and Ampère, to Kant and Hegel, to Comte and
Spencer, to Wundt and Windelband. And yet we can hardly speak of a real
historical continuity. In a certain way every period took up the problem
anew, and the new aspects resulted not only from the development of the
sciences themselves which were to be classified, but still more from the
differences of logical interest. Sometimes the classification referred
to the material, sometimes to the method of treatment, sometimes to the
mental energies involved, and sometimes to the ends to be reached. The
reference to the mental faculties was certainly the earliest method of
bringing order into human knowledge, for the distinction of the Platonic
philosophy between dialectics, physics, and ethics pointed to the
threefold character of the mind, to reason, perception, and desire; and
it was on the threshold of the modern time, again, when Bacon divided
the intellectual globe into three large parts according to three
fundamental psychical faculties: memory, imagination, and reason. The
memory gives us history; the imagination, poetry; the reason,
philosophy, or the sciences. History was further divided into natural
and civil history; natural history into normal, abnormal, and artificial
phenomena; civil history into political, literary, and ecclesiastical
history. The field of reason was subdivided into man, nature, and God;
the domain of man gives, first, civil philosophy, parted off into
intercourse, business, and government, and secondly, the philosophy of
humanity, divided into that of body and of soul, wherein medicine and
athletics belong to the body, logic and ethics to the soul. Nature, on
the other hand, was divided into speculative and applied science,--the
speculative containing both physics and metaphysics; the applied,
mechanics and magic. All this was full of artificial constructions, and
yet still more marked by deep insight into the needs of Bacon's time,
and not every modification of later classifiers was logically a step
forward.
Yet modern efforts had to seek quite different methods, and the energies
which have been most effective for the ordering of knowledge in the last
decades spring unquestionably from the system of Comte and his
successors. He did not aim at a system of ramifications; his problem was
to show how the fundamental sciences depend on each other. A series was
to be constructed in which each member should presuppose the foregoing.
The result was a simplicity which is certainly tempting, but this
simplicity was reached only by an artificial emphasis which corresponded
completely to the one-sidedness of naturalistic thought. It was a
philosophy of positivism, the background for the gigantic work of
natural science and technique in the last two thirds of the nineteenth
century. Comte's fundamental thought is that the science of Morals, in
which we study human nature for the government of human life, is
dependent on sociology. Sociology, however, depends on biology; this on
chemistry; this on physics; this on astronomy; and this finally on
mathematics. In this way, all mental and moral sciences, history and
philology, jurisprudence and theology, economics and politics, are
considered as sociological phenomena, as dealing with functions of the
human being. But as man is a living organism, and thus certainly falls
under biology, all the branches of knowledge from history to ethics,
from jurisprudence to æsthetics, can be nothing but subdivisions of
biology. The living organism, on the other hand, is merely one type of
the physical bodies on earth, and biology is thus itself merely a
department of physics. But as the earthly bodies are merely a part of
the cosmic totality, physics is thus a part of astronomy; and as the
whole universe is controlled by mathematical laws, mathematics must be
superordinated to all sciences.
But there followed a time which overcame this thinly disguised example
of materialism. It was a time when the categories of the physiologist
lost slightly in credit and the categories of the psychologist won
repute. This newer movement held that it is artificial to consider
ethical and logical life, historic and legal action, literary and
religious emotions, merely as physiological functions of the living
organism. The mental life, however necessarily connected with brain
processes, has a positive reality of its own. The psychical facts
represent a world of phenomena which in its nature is absolutely
different from that of material phenomena, and, while it is true that
every ethical action and every logical thought can, from the standpoint
of the biologist, be considered as a property of matter, it is not less
true that the sciences of mental phenomena, considered impartially, form
a sphere of knowledge closed in itself, and must thus be coördinated,
not subordinated, to the knowledge of the physical world. We should say
thus: all knowledge falls into two classes, the physical sciences and
the mental sciences. In the circle of physical sciences we have the
general sciences, like physics and chemistry, the particular sciences of
special objects, like astronomy, geology, mineralogy, biology, and the
formal sciences, like mathematics. In the circle of mental sciences we
have correspondingly, as a general science, psychology, and as the
particular sciences all those special mental and moral sciences which
deal with man's inner life, like history or jurisprudence, logic or
ethics, and all the rest. Such a classification, which had its
philosophical defenders about twenty years ago, penetrated the popular
thought as fully as the positivism of the foregoing generation, and was
certainly superior to its materialistic forerunner.
Of course it was not the first time in the history of civilization that
materialism was replaced by dualism, that biologism was replaced by
psychologism; and it was also not the first time that the development of
civilization led again beyond this point: that is, led beyond the
psychologizing period. There is no doubt that our time presses on, with
all its powerful internal energies, away from this _Weltanschauung_ of
yesterday. The materialism was anti-philosophic, the psychological
dualism was unphilosophic. To-day the philosophical movement has set in.
The one-sidedness of the nineteenth century creed is felt in the deeper
thought all over the world: popular movements and scholarly efforts
alike show the signs of a coming idealism, which has something better
and deeper to say than merely that our life is a series of causal
phenomena. Our time longs for a new interpretation of reality; from the
depths of every science wherein for decades philosophizing was despised,
the best scholars turn again to a discussion of fundamental conceptions
and general principles. Historical thinking begins again to take the
leadership which for half a century belonged to naturalistic thinking;
specialistic research demands increasingly from day to day the
readjustment toward higher unities, and the technical progress which
charmed the world becomes more and more simply a factor in an ideal
progress. The appearance of this unifying congress itself is merely one
of a thousand symptoms of this change appearing in our public life, and
if the scientific philosophy is producing to-day book upon book to prove
that the world of phenomena must be supplemented by the world of values,
that description must yield to interpretation, and that explanation must
be harmonized with appreciation: it is but echoing in technical terms
the one great emotion of our time.
This certainly does not mean that any step of the gigantic
materialistic, technical, and psychological development will be
reversed, or that progress in any one of these directions ought to
cease. On the contrary, no time was ever more ready to put its immense
energies into the service of naturalistic work; but it does mean that
our time recognizes the one-sidedness of these movements, recognizes
that they belong only to one aspect of reality, and that another aspect
is possible; yes, that the other aspect is that of our immediate life,
with its purposes and its ideals, its historical relations and its
logical aims. The claim of materialism, that all psychical facts are
merely functions of the organism, was no argument against psychology,
because, though the biological view was possible, yet the other aspect
is certainly a necessary supplement. In the same way it is no argument
against the newer view that all purposes and ideals, all historical
actions and logical thoughts, can be considered as psychological
phenomena. Of course we can consider them as such, and we must go on
doing so in the service of the psychological and sociological sciences;
but we ought not to imagine that we have expressed and understood the
real character of our historical or moral, our logical or religious life
when we have described and explained it as a series of phenomena. Its
immediate reality expresses itself above all in the fact that it has a
meaning, that it is a purpose which we want to understand, not by
considering its causes and effects, but by interpreting its aims and
appreciating its ideals.
We should say, therefore, to-day that it is most interesting and
important for the scientist to consider human life with all its
strivings and creations from a biological, psychological, sociological
point of view; that is, to consider it as a system of causal phenomena;
and many problems worthy of the highest energies have still to be solved
in these sciences. But that which the jurist or the theologian, the
student of art or of history, of literature or of politics, of education
or of morality, is dealing with, refers to the other aspect in which
inner life is not a phenomenon but a system of purposes, not to be
explained but to be interpreted, to be approached not by causal but by
teleological methods. In this case the historical sciences are no longer
sub-sections of psychological or of sociological sciences; the
conception of science is no longer identical with the conception of the
science of phenomena. There exist sciences which do not deal with the
description or explanation of phenomena at all, but with the internal
relation and connection, the interpretation and appreciation of purpose.
In this way modern thought demands that sciences of purpose be
coördinated with sciences of phenomena. Only if all these tendencies of
our time are fully acknowledged can the outer framework of our
classification offer a fair field to every scientific thought, while a
positivistic system would cripple the most promising tendencies of the
twentieth century.
2. _The Four Theoretical Divisions_
We have first to determine the underlying structure of the
classification, that is, we have to seek the chief Divisions, of which
our plan shows seven; four theoretical and three practical ones. It will
be a secondary task to subdivide them later into the 24 Departments and
128 Sections. We desire to divide the whole of knowledge in a
fundamental way, and we must therefore start with the question of
principle:--what is knowledge? This question belongs to epistemology,
and thus falls, indeed, into the domain of philosophy. The positivist is
easily inclined to substitute for the philosophical problem the
empirical question: how did that which we call knowledge grow and
develop itself in our individual mind, or in the mind of the nations?
The question becomes, then, of course, one which must be answered by
psychology, by sociology, and perhaps by biology. Such genetic inquiries
are certainly very important, and the problem of how the processes of
judging and conceiving and thinking are produced in the individual or
social consciousness, and how they are to be explained through physical
and psychical causes, deserves fullest attention. But its solution
cannot even help us as regards the fundamental problem, what we mean by
knowledge, and what the ultimate value of knowledge may be, and why we
seek it. This deeper logical inquiry must be answered somehow before
those genetic studies of the psychological and the sociological
positivists can claim any truth at all, and thus any value, for their
outcome. To explain our present knowledge genetically from its foregoing
causes means merely to connect the present experience, which we know,
with a past experience, which we remember, or with earlier phenomena
which we construct on the basis of theories and hypotheses; but in any
case with facts which we value as parts of our knowledge and which thus
presuppose the acknowledgment of the value of knowledge. We cannot
determine by linking one part of knowledge with another part of
knowledge whether we have a right to speak of knowledge at all and to
rely on it.
We can thus not start from the childhood of man, or from the beginning
of humanity, or from any other object of knowledge, but we must begin
with the state which logically precedes all knowledge; that is, with our
immediate experience of real life. Here, in the naïve experience in
which we do not know ourselves as objects which we perceive, but where
we feel ourselves in our subjective attitudes as agents of will, as
personalities, here we find the original reality not yet shaped and
remoulded by scientific conceptions and by the demands of knowledge. And
from this basis of primary, naïve reality we must ask ourselves what we
mean by seeking knowledge, and how this demand of ours is different from
the other activities in which we work out the meaning and the ideals of
our life.
One thing is certain, we cannot go back to the old dogmatic standpoint,
whether rationalistic or sensualistic. In both cases dogmatism took for
granted that there is a real world of things which exist in themselves
independent of our subjective attitudes, and that our knowledge has to
give us a mirror picture of that self-dependent world. Sensualism
averred that we get this knowledge through our perceptions; rationalism,
that we get it by reasoning. The one asserted that experience gives us
the data which mere abstract reasoning can never supply; the other
asserted that our knowledge speaks of necessity which no mere perception
can find out. Our modern time has gone through the school of
philosophical criticism, and the dogmatic ideas have lost for us their
meaning. We know that the world which we think as independent cannot be
independent of the forms of our thinking, and that no science has
reference to any other world than the world which is determined by the
categories of our apperception. There cannot be anything more real than
the immediate pure experience, and if we seek the truth of knowledge, we
do not set out to discover something which is hidden behind our
experience, but we set out simply to make something out of our
experience which satisfies certain demands. Our immediate experience
does not contain an objective thing and a subjective picture of it, but
they are completely one and the same piece of experience. We have the
object of our immediate knowledge not in the double form of an outer
object independent of ourselves and an idea in us, but we have it as our
object there in the practical world before science for its special
purposes has broken up that bit of reality into the physical material
thing and the psychical content of consciousness. And if this doubleness
does not hold for the immediate reality of pure experience, it cannot
enter through that reshaping and reconstructing and connecting and
interpreting of pure experience which we call our knowledge. All that
science gives to us is just such an endlessly enlarged experience, of
which every particle remains objective and independent, inasmuch as it
is not in us as psychical individuals, while yet completely dependent
upon the forms of our subjective experience. The ideal of truth is thus
not to gain by reason or by observation ideas in ourselves which
correspond as well as possible to absolute things, but to reconstruct
the given experience in the service of certain purposes. Everything
which completely fulfills the purposes of this intentional
reconstruction is true.
What are these purposes? One thing is clear from the first: There cannot
be a purpose where there is not a will. If we come from pure experience
to knowledge by a purposive transformation, we must acknowledge the
reality of will in ourselves, or rather, we must find ourselves as will
in the midst of pure experience before we reach any knowledge. And so it
is indeed. We can abstract from all those reconstructions which the
sciences suggest to us and go back to the most immediate naïve
experience; but we can never reach an experience which does not contain
the doubleness of subject and object, of will and world. That doubleness
has nothing whatever to do with the difference of physical and
psychical; both the physical thing and the psychical idea are objects.
The antithesis is not that between two kinds of objects, since we have
seen that in the immediate experience the objects are not at all split
up into the two groups of material and mental things; it is rather the
antithesis between the object in its undifferentiated state on the one
side and the subject in its will-attitude on the other side. Yes, even
if we speak of the subject which stands as a unity behind the
will-attitudes, we are already reconstructing the real experience in the
interest of the purposes of knowledge. In the immediate experience, we
have the will-attitudes themselves, and not a subject which wills them.