CONTENTS: - The Monist, Vol. 1, 1890-1891 - 112

A New Study of Psychology. There are three fairly distinct types of treatment in text-books of psychology. The first type, is the science of the "mind" considered as an entity, of whose nature we might otherwise know much or little, but of which we at all events knew that it had a certain substantial unity. This was supplemented, or succeeded, by the theory of the 'ideas,' and their 'associations.' A third method confines its investigations to the facts and laws of the nervous system, with only such use of introspection as was found absolutely indispensable. Professor James, in his "Principles of Psychology," does not accept primarily any one of these views. The unit he adopts in mental analysis might be defined as "so much of the mental process as may be supposed to run parallel to a relatively simple nervous function in the cortex of the living brain, in so far as this cortex functions with a certain unity." Professor James rejects the unconscious in every form, and above all the unconscious mind-atom. He says, "the special natural science of psychology must stop with the mere functional formula. If the passing be the directly verifiable existent, which no school has hitherto doubted it to be, then that thought is itself the thinker, and psychology need not look beyond." This life of passing thoughts needs only the fundamental hypothesis that the moments as they pass really know one another, that the present is actually acquainted with the past, in order to give as a resultant of the whole life such unity as we need for purposes of psychological science. In relation to volition and freedom, Professor James holds that the idea of the end tends more and more to make itself all-sufficient, and that "motives," so-called, are "ideas of ends" which owing to their conflict, are unable to pass over into acts so long as they remain mere motives. The experience of deciding a conflict of motives is "the experience of the triumph of one idea of the end over other ideas." The act of voluntary decision is experienced as an act of "conscious attention to an idea," and nothing else. Volition is primarily a relation, "not between ourself and extra-mental matter, but between ourself and our own states of mind." Professor James's own belief is that the question of freewill is insolvable on strictly psychological grounds, although on ethical grounds he ascribes to the alternative of freedom. In relation to the question of pleasure and pain as motives, he points out that the 'idea-motor' acts, even on a very high plane, express the presence of the 'idea of an end,' and this end may itself be very painful, yet it tends to carry itself out. It wins because we attend to it, and whether or no attention is free, certain it is that attention often rather determines pleasure and pain themselves, than is determined by them. In conclusion Professor Royce says in relation to Professor James's book: "His 'passing moments,' which can 'know' and which can freely 'attend,' which are 'self-related,' and which have 'unity,' and which are still so intimately bound to the 'neural process,' have just the paradoxical and hypothetical character which requires one, in one's philosophy, to go beyond them, and to declare them but illusory expressions in phenomenal form of an infinitely deeper truth."

The Inner Life in Relation to Morality. The emotions that are called 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.