Psychologists and metaphysicians are of very varied opinions as to the difference between intelligence and reason. Schopenhauer, for instance, considers causality to be the sole function of intelligence, and the formation of concepts to be the province of reason; in his opinion the latter power alone marks off man from the brute. However, the power of abstraction, which collects the common features in a number of different presentations, is also found in the higher animals. Intelligent dogs not only discriminate between individual men, cats, etc., according as they are sympathetic or the reverse, but they have a general idea of man or cat, and behave very differently towards the two. On the other hand, the power of forming concepts is still so slight in uncivilized races that it rises but little above the mind of dogs, horses, etc.; the mental interval between them and civilized man is extremely wide. However, a long scale of reason unites the various stages of association of presentations which lead up to the formation of concepts; it is quite impossible to lay down a strict line of demarcation between the lower and higher mental functions of animals, or between the latter and reason. Hence the distinction between the two cerebral functions is only relative; the intelligence comprises the narrower circle of concrete and more proximate associations, while reason deals with the wider sphere of abstract and more comprehensive groups of association. In the scientific life of the mind, therefore, the intelligence is always occupied with empirical investigation, and reason with speculative knowledge. But the two faculties are equally functions of the phronema, and depend on the normal anatomic and chemical condition of this organ of thought.

Since Kant won so great a prominence in modern philosophy for the idea of pure reason by his famous Critique (1781), it has been much discussed, especially in the modern metaphysical theory of knowledge. It has, however, like all other ideas, undergone considerable changes of meaning in the course of time. Kant himself at first understood by pure reason "reason independent of all experience." But impartial modern psychology based on the physiology of the brain and the phylogeny of its functions, has shown that there is no such thing as this pure a priori knowledge, independent of all experience. Those principles of reason which at present seem to be a priori in this sense have been attained in virtue of thousands of experiences. In so far as this is a question of real knowledge of the truth, Kant himself has frequently recognized the point. He says expressly in his Prolegomena to any future metaphysic that can be regarded as Science (1783, p. 204): "A knowledge of things by pure reason or pure intelligence is nothing but an empty appearance; only in experience is there truth." In subscribing to this empirical theory of knowledge of Kant I. and rejecting the transcendental theory of Kant II., we may on our side understand by pure reason "knowledge without prejudices," free from all dogma—all fictions of faith.

The familiar cry of modern metaphysicians, "Return to Kant," has become so general in Germany that not only nearly all metaphysicians—the official representatives of "philosophy" at our universities—but also many distinguished scientists, regard Kant's dualistic theory of knowledge as a necessary condition for the attainment of truth. Kant dominated philosophy in the nineteenth century much as Aristotle did in the Middle Ages. His authority became especially powerful when the prevailing Christian faith believed that his "practical reason" fully supported its own three fundamental dogmas—the personality of God, the immortality of the soul, and the freedom of the will. It overlooked the fact that Kant had utterly failed to find proofs of these dogmas in his Critique of Pure Reason. Even conservative governments found favorable features in this dualistic philosophy. We are, therefore, forced to return once more to this mischievous system; though Kant's antinomy of the two reasons has now been refuted so often and so thoroughly that we need not dwell any further on this point.

Although the great Königsberg philosopher brought every side of human life within his comprehensive sphere of study, man remained to him—as he had been to Plato and Aristotle, Christ and Descartes—a dual being, made up of a physical body and a transcendental mind or spirit. Comparative anatomy and evolution, which have provided the solid morphological basis of monistic anthropology, did not come into existence until the beginning of the nineteenth century; they were quite unknown to Kant. He had, however, a presentiment of their importance, as Fritz Schultze has shown in his interesting work on Kant and Darwin (1875). We find in various places expressions which may be described as anticipations of Darwinism. Kant also gave lectures on "Pragmatic Anthropology," and studied the psychology of races and peoples. It is remarkable that he did not arrive at a phylogenetic conception of the human mind, and a recognition of the possibility of its evolution from the mind of other vertebrates. It is clear that he was held back from this by the profound mystic tendency of his theory of reason, and the dogma of the immortality of the soul, the freedom of the will, and the categorical imperative. Reason remained in Kant's view a transcendental phenomenon, and this dualistic error had a great influence on the whole structure of his philosophy. It must be remembered, of course, that our knowledge of the psychology of peoples was then very imperfect; but a critical study of the facts then known should have sufficed to convince him of the lower and animal condition of their minds. If Kant had had children, and followed patiently the development of the child's soul (as Preyer did a century later), he would hardly have persisted in his erroneous idea that reason, with its power of attaining a priori knowledge, is a transcendental and supernatural wonder of life, or a unique gift to man from Heaven.

The root of the error is that Kant had no idea of the natural evolution of the mind. He did not employ the comparative and genetic methods to which we owe the chief scientific achievements of the last half-century. Kant and his followers, who confined themselves almost exclusively to the introspective method or the self-observation of their own mind, regarded as the model of the human soul the highly developed and versatile mind of the philosopher, and disregarded altogether the lower stages of mental life which we find in the child and the savage.

The immense advance made by the science of man in the second half of the nineteenth century cut the ground from under the older anthropology and the dualistic system of Kant. A number of newly founded branches of science co-operated in the work. Comparative anatomy showed that our whole complicated frame resembles that of the other mammals, and in particular differs only by slight stages of growth, and therefore in the details of the organs, from that of the anthropoid apes. The comparative histology of the brain especially showed that this is also true of the brain, the real organ of mind. From comparative embryology we learned that man develops from a simple ovum just like the anthropoid ape; in fact, that it is almost impossible to distinguish between the ape and the human embryo even at a late stage of development. Comparative animal chemistry explained that the chemical compounds which build up our organs, and the conversions of energy which accompany its metabolism, resemble those in the other vertebrates. Comparative physiology taught us that all man's vital functions—nutrition and reproduction, movement and sensation—can be traced to the same physical laws in man as in all the other vertebrates. Above all, the comparative and experimental study of the sense-organs and the various parts of the brain showed that these organs of the mind work in the same way in man as in the other primates. Modern paleontology taught that man is, it is true, more than a hundred thousand years old, but only appeared on earth towards the close of the Tertiary Period. Prehistoric research and comparative ethnology have shown that civilized nations were preceded by older and lower races, and these by savages, which have a close bodily and mental affinity to the apes. Finally, the reformed theory of descent (1859) enabled us to unite the chief results of the various branches of anthropological study, and explain them phylogenetically by the development of man from other primates (anthropoid apes, cynocephali, lemures, etc.). By this means a new and monistic basis was provided for modern anthropology; the position assigned to man in nature by dualistic metaphysics was shown to be utterly untenable. I have attempted in the last edition of my Anthropogeny (of which an English edition is in preparation) to combine all these results of empirical investigation in a sketch of the natural evolution of man, paying special regard to embryology. I pointed out in chapters ii.-vi. of the Riddle how important a part of our monistic philosophy this phylogenetic anthropology is.

The monistic conception of the human body and mind, which the theory of descent has put on a zoological basis, was bound to meet with the sternest resistance in dualistic and metaphysical circles. It was, however, also regarded with great disapproval by many modern empirical anthropologists, especially those who take it to be their chief task to make as "exact" a study as possible of the human frame, and measure and describe its various parts. We might have expected these descriptive anthropologists and ethnologists to extend a friendly hand to the new anthropogeny, and avail themselves of its leading ideas, in order to bring unity and causal connection into the enormous mass of empirical material accumulated. However, this took place only to a limited extent, The majority of anthropologists regarded evolution, and especially the evolution of man, as an undemonstrated hypothesis. They confined themselves to accumulating huge masses of raw empirical material, without having any clear aim or any definite questions in view. This was chiefly the case in Germany, where the Society of Anthropology and Prehistoric Research was for thirty years under the lead of Rudolph Virchow. This famous scientist had won great honor in connection with the reform of medicine by his cellular pathology and a number of distinguished works on pathological anatomy and histology since the middle of the nineteenth century. But when he afterwards (subsequently to his removal to Berlin, 1856) devoted himself chiefly to political and social questions, he lost sight of the great advance made in other branches of biology. He completely failed to appreciate its greatest achievement—the establishment of the science of evolution by Darwin. To this we must add the psychological metamorphosis (similar to that of Wundt, Baer, Dubois-Reymond, and others), of which I have spoken in the sixth chapter of the Riddle. The extraordinary authority of Virchow, and the indefatigable zeal with which he struggled every year until his death (1903) against the descent of man from other vertebrates, caused a wide-spread opposition to the doctrine of evolution. This was supported especially by Johannes Ranke, of Munich, the secretary of the Anthropological Society. Happily, a change has recently set in. However, my Anthropogeny has remained for thirty years the only work of its kind—namely, a comprehensive treatment of man's ancestral history, especially in the light of embryology.

As I pointed out in the eighth and ninth chapters of the Riddle, the most solid foundation of our monistic psychology is the fact that the human mind grows. Like every other function of our organism, our mental activity exhibits the phenomenon of development in two directions, individually in each human being and phyletically in the whole race. The ontogeny of the mind—or the embryology of the human soul—brings before us in direct observation the various stages of development through which the mind of every man passes from the beginning to the close of life. The phylogeny of the mind—or the ancestral history of the human soul—does not afford us this direct observation; it can only be deduced by a comparison and synthesis of the historical indications which are supplied by history and prehistoric research on the one hand, and the critical study of the various stages of mental life in savages and the higher vertebrates on the other. In this the biogenetic law is used with great success (chapter xvi.).

As everybody knows, the new-born child shows as yet no trace of mind or reason or consciousness; these functions are wanting in it as completely as in the embryo from which it has been developed during the nine months in the mother's womb. Even in the ninth month, when most of the organs of the human embryo are formed and arranged as they appear later, there is no more trace of mind in its psychic life than in the ovum and spermatozoon from which it was evolved. The moment in which these sexual cells unite marks precisely the real commencement of individual existence, and therefore of the soul also (as a potential function of the plasm). But the mind proper—or reason, the higher conscious function of the soul—only develops, slowly and gradually, long after birth. As Flechsig has shown anatomically, the cortex in the new-born child is not yet organized or capable of functioning. Rational consciousness is even impossible for the child when it begins to speak; it reveals itself for the first time (after the first year) at the moment when the child speaks of itself, not in the-third person, but as "I." With this self-consciousness comes also the antithesis of the individual to the outer world, or world-consciousness. This is the real beginning of mental life.