CHAPTER VII.
GENETIC PSYCHOLOGY AND THE FACULTIES.

§ 120. Origin, genesis and growth are ideas of primary importance to-day. Evolutionary notions pervade our philosophy and bid fair to drive out the static analyses of traditional methods. To understand anything whatsoever nowadays, we think it necessary to study it in its origin and growth. We are no longer content to take things as they are, we desire above all things else to know how they became; and unless we know this our knowledge is looked upon with unconcealed suspicion. Historical interpretations are prevalent in every realm of thought, to which the theory of knowledge, and in particular the pragmatic theory of knowledge, is no exception. Thus man is regarded as essentially and above all things else the product of an evolutionary process. He started at the level of dull and undifferentiated sentience, and from this state of uninteresting uniformity have been evolved his so-called faculties. Emotion, volition, and cognition have all arisen by a process of differentiation from a common ground. They are not really distinct. In fact, "all three 'faculties ' are at bottom only labels for describing the activities of what may be called indifferently a unitary personality, or a reacting organism."

§ 121. Doubtless, analytic psychology is inclined at times to carry its analyses too far, and in consequence seems almost to treat the human mind as if it were a bundle of faculties each independent and distinct. Kant, for instance, in his desire to bring together the transcendental unity of apperception and the manifold of sense, freely multiplied human powers of knowing, and marked off the function of inner and outer sense, of imagination, of understanding, of practical and theoretical reason, and of will with such absolute precision that the unity of man seemed lost in the multifarious details of his differences. In contrast with an exaggerated faculty-psychology of this kind the stress which is laid on the unitary character of human personality in Humanism, in Personal Idealism, and more notably still in the psychology of M. Bergson, stands out all the more clearly, and, as an antidote, may serve a useful purpose.

As Dr. Schiller remarks, however, 'attempts at unification are not new.' There has always been a protest against the disintegrating tendencies of Kantian psychology. Kant himself suggested that "the two stems of human knowledge, sensibility and understanding, may perhaps have a common but unknown root ;" and Hegel, too, declared that

the chief aim of a philosophy of mind can only be to re-introduce unity of idea and of principle into the theory of mind. . . . Our sense of the mind's living unity [he says] naturally protests against any attempt to break it up into different faculties, forces, or what comes to the same thing, activities conceived as independent of each other.^{1}

§ 122. The notion of independence, true of the faculties as of everything else in its proper degree, may be, and often has been, carried too far. The fact is that there are different kinds of independence, and whereas in regard to the faculties some must be denied, others may be rightly asserted. The faculties are not independent in regard to their ultimate principle. They all belong to and qualify our personality and essential nature. Nor are they independent in the sense that they do not mutually influence one another and work toward a common end. But we recognise introspectively that conscious processes or activities differ in kind. To feel is not to think, to think is not to will, and to will is not to act. Considered, therefore, as the proximate ground of different mental activities, the faculties are distinct. Moreover, in different psychoses or states of mind, cognition, conation and mere feeling are present in different degrees, and this, as Dr. Stout says in his Analytic Psychology, argues a certain kind of independence. Indeed, the very fact that we can speak intelligibly of our emotions controlling our will, or of purpose and volition influencing belief, shows that there is between emotion, volition and belief a difference and also a certain degree of independence as well as inter-dependence. Hence our psychological distinctions cannot be classed as mere 'labels.'

§ 123. A psychology, therefore, which ignores or minimises distinctions is as false as one that exaggerates them or makes them absolute. Nay, of the two, the former error is far more serious in its consequences. A careful analysis of data and a careful distinction in the use of terms is essential to the advance of science and philosophy. Without it classification becomes impossible; and on classification theory is based. A psychology which obliterates distinctions destroys the very source of knowledge, and leads, not only to laxity of speech, but also to laxity of thought. Terms are used first in one sense and then in another, and theories are founded on the ambiguity which ensues. The result is that often enough a writer so unsystematic does not know himself precisely what he means, and is quite incapable of conveying his meaning to anybody else. Without precision and accuracy intelligible discourse is impossible. And principles, pragmatic or otherwise, which encourage the adoption of a large and loose terminology can only end in hopeless confusion and misunderstanding.

Moreover, as distinctions grow fainter and differences get blurred, it becomes more and more impossible to maintain the balance of power, so to speak, between the faculties. One or other of them is sure to be made supreme, while the rest sink into obscurity. This tendency is well-illustrated in the Hegelian and Neo-Hegelian development of Criticism, in which Monism led first to an identification of other forms of consciousness with thought, and then to the substitution of thought for consciousness in general. True, the monistic idealist points out now and then that 'thought' embraces something other than thought. Green, for instance, observes that "if thought and reality are identified, thought must be other than discursive activity, other than the particular mode of consciousness which excludes from itself feeling and will." Yet the fact remains that in the metaphysical logics of Absolutism the idea of will is, as a rule, obscured by that of the constructive and formal activity of Thought, and to it no distinctive or adequate function is assigned in the ideal history of the universe.

§ 124. Pragmatism, owing chiefly to its fondness for a genetic psychology, though, in part, also to the philosophy of Pure Experience by which its psychology is supplemented, affords but another illustration of the disastrous consequences of minimising the distinction between the faculties. As the Hegelian subordinates the will to the intellect, so the pragmatist subordinates the intellect to the will and to the emotions. It is in the strivings of our will and in the vague and quasi-hedonistic impulses of our emotional nature that the nature of man is revealed ; and it is in the satisfaction of these rather than in the satisfaction of intellectual demands that the criteria of truth are to be found. Purposes, expressive largely of emotional needs, dominate all cognition. It is impossible to abstract from them. Cognition without them is a mutilated fragment of mind.

There is no pure intellect. If 'pure' intellect does not imply a gross psychological blunder, and this is probably what was too often meant until the conception was challenged, it means an abstraction, an intellect conceived as devoid of function, as not applied to any actual problem, as satisfying no purpose.^{2}

Reason is not a faculty. It stands for a group of habits which men (and to some extent animals) have acquired, and which we find extremely useful, nay necessary, for the successful carrying on of life. Among these habits may be mentioned that of inhibiting reaction upon stimulation, i.e., of checking our natural and instinctive tendencies to react, until we have reflected precisely what it is we are dealing with. To determine this latter point we have developed the habit of analysis, i.e., of breaking up the confused complex of presentations into 'things' and their 'attributes,' which are referred to and identified with former similar experiences, and expressed in judgments as to what the situation really is. This enables us to rearrange the presented connections of attributions, and the whole reasoning process finds its natural issue and test in an action which modifies and beneficially innovates upon the original habit of reaction.^{3}

Reason is thus reduced to the common denominator of a couple of habits, only one of which is in any way cognitive (viz., the analysis and rearrangement of presentation), the other being volitional, if not merely physiological. True, Dr. Schiller allows that reasoning may enter into a rational act, and in the next paragraph mentions that thinking or judging, which is one of the habits that make up man's reason, involves the use of concepts, and depends ultimately upon axiomatic principles, which he prefers to call postulates; so that his account of 'reason,' if more fully developed, might be made acceptable, even to the 'rationalists.' Still, the haphazard way in which this 'analysis of reason' is carried out, the inclusion of a function which per se is certainly not rational in nature, and the substitution of the term 'bundle of habits' for the time-honoured term 'faculty' -- a substitution which is not explained, though it certainly does not suggest the unity and personal character of man -- make Dr. Schiller's account of 'reason' far from satisfactory, especially if we bear in mind that it is an attempt to remedy previous accounts which have hitherto not been conceived with sufficient precision for scientific purposes.

§ 125. Professor James' account of conception also illustrates the baneful influence which an evolutionary pragmatism may have upon psychology. We saw in the last chapter how the concept is reduced to a symbol or an image devoid of meaning and significance; how its contents are made to consist of reactions or practical effects, all of them sensational in nature; how its objective reference is explained, not as a reference to an external and real world, the nature of which it, to some extent, reveals, but as an accident due to the fact that it is prevented from leading us back to the sense-experience for which it stands an inadequate substitute. And, doubtless, there is an element of truth in all this. Thought sometimes does involve images. Concepts are frequently not adequate, and may be at times even symbolic. Knowledge is derived ultimately from sense-experience; and our state of mind when we think of absent objects is not the same as when they are present. But when the pragmatist gets hold of a truth like this he spoils it by exaggerating it, generalising it, or insisting on it to the exclusion of all other truths with which it is connected and apart from which it cannot be rightly understood. Recognising that all knowledge is ultimately derived from experience, he infers quite illogically that everything that we know we must be able to feel, and so is led on to invent what he calls felt-relations. Finding that many scientific concepts are more or less symbolic and do not correspond strictly and fully with reality, he generalises this and affirms that all concepts are symbolic. Finding, again, that images and words are used in conceptual thought, he identifies them with the concept itself, and so destroys, or at least is unable to explain their significance, from which he proceeds to the denial of their objective validity. Observing, too, that the content of the concept can sometimes be expressed in terms of sense-perception, he infers that it can always be so expressed, and, hence, affirms that concepts which do not lead back to a percept are no concepts at all, but merely words. And, lastly, the unquestionable truth that concepts are useful and that they serve admirably as instruments by means of which scientists and others are able to secure the control of experience and so promote the advance of civilisation serves only as a pretext for denying that concepts are anything more than instruments, in spite of the fact that their instrumental value depends upon the knowledge they give us of our environment.

§126. It is the genetic standpoint which is largely accountable for the symbolic concepts and the emaciated intellect of the pragmatist. It is this which causes him to select certain characteristics of human cognition, and, concentrating his attention exclusively on these, to build up a theory which is, in consequence, one-sided, and which, when confronted with data other than those upon which it has been built, is found to be wholly inapplicable. It is the genetic standpoint that has led to the doctrine of postulation and experiment, which lies at the root of the evil, and which is, as we have seen, in its universal form only another example of illicit generalisation. And it is this same genetic standpoint which accounts for the predominant influence assigned to purpose, which, as better expressing Will and the active side of our nature, has, in Pragmatism, almost completely supplanted the intellect.

Again it is an indisputable fact upon which the pragmatist rests: purpose does play a most important part in the intricate processes of thought-activity. But, as usual, truth is exaggerated. Purpose does not permeate cognition through and through. Its influence is not universal, but is restricted, for the most part, to the intent of thought. Thought's content, when our thinking is accurate and honest, is determined, not by purpose, but by the objects about which we think -- objects which otherwise could never be known. Our very purposes themselves, need-expressive as they are, are defined and made precise by the objects with which we have to deal. Nor do the emotions, so closely connected with and dependent upon our purposes and needs, affect directly the content of thought as a rule. Their influence is indirect. Satisfaction and dissatisfaction, interest, monotony, disgust, influence belief by intensifying or inhibiting thought-activity, by keeping it fixed on certain objects or by directing it into other channels. Even when the 'will to believe,' i.e., the emotional satisfaction and volitional striving arising from the contemplation of a proposition as true, seems to be the immediate cause of belief, it never of itself effects a modification in the content of thought, but causes assent to be given without sufficient evidence. And here, again, though emotion may influence assent directly, more often than not it does so indirectly by preventing thought from dwelling on those aspects of a problem which are likely to hinder assent or lead to an opposite belief. Satisfaction, moreover, seldom forms part of the purpose which we deliberately strive to realise. On the contrary, the honest enquirer does his best to exclude such subjective influences, and, ordinarily, his efforts are not without success. § 127. The Princip der Denkökonomie expresses another human need, the influence of which is much exaggerated by Professor Mach and others. Doubtless, simplicity and unity have a fascination for every thinking mind, but I can hardly believe that the aim of thought is to save ourselves the trouble of thinking any more than we can help, which is practically what the principle of Thought-Economy or Least (mental) Energy amounts to. Thought is itself a pleasure, and the desire to take short cuts in order to bring our journey to an early close, is considerably modified by the pleasures which we meet with by the way, and still more so by the fear that a conclusion too rapidly drawn may be premature and false. Simple hypotheses are preferable, other conditions being the same, not so much because they economise thought, as because a simple hypothesis seems to be more ultimate and to imply that analysis has gone further than in one that is more complex. No one, however, would adopt a hypothesis, however simple, unless there

a fair chance of its verification, or, if sincere seemed in his search for truth, would hesitate to reject it t found to be incompatible with fact. The principle of Thought-Economy is of practically no importance as a criterion of truth; and, if admitted, is liable to lead to careless inferences and illicit induction. It is said that the power of generalising is an instance of this principle at work; and certainly it may afford an excellent example of its

abuse. But there is no proof whatever that universal concepts are due solely to the influence of this principle. Indeed, if they are, the objective

validity of subsumption is destroyed; and, since all knowledge implies universals, it would be advisable to give up the attempt to acquire it and to devote ourselves instead to some more useful occupation.

Considerations such as these the pragmatist is apt to forget. As usual, he has got hold of principles which are true if kept within their proper bounds, and, as usual, so delighted is he at having rediscovered them that he must needs make them universal and apply them to everything upon which he can lay his hands. Just as he reduces everything to sense-experience and explains away conception, and turns the intellect into a machine for the manufacture of meaningless symbols,^{4} so now he generalises the influence of purposes, of needs, and of thought-economy regardless of consequences. And, consciously or unconsciously, that which has led him astray is his genetic psychology and the evolutionary principles which are its real foundation. 'Pure' experience, symbolic concepts, postulation and experiment, a mechanical intellect, purposes, needs and emotional strivings all form part of an evolutionary apparatus. Yet even as an evolutionist, the pragmatist, as we shall see, is not consistent.

§ 128. No one, of course, can rationally object to the study of knowledge from the dynamic or evolutionary point of view, provided the method of study be sound. Some form of development has always been admitted in knowledge. Indeed, the transcendental Hegel was a leader in this matter. But if we are to treat knowledge dynamically and to take its development and past history into account, we must select a method by which to proceed and our choice in this matter is practically restricted to two alternatives. In general, we must either interpret the past by means of the present, or interpret the present by means of the past. Indirectly time two methods are supplementary;^{5} but as methodological principles they are opposed, and the validity of our conclusions will depend to a large extent upon which principle or method we regard as primary.

Dr. Schiller's first work was a philosophy of evolution,^{6} and in it his views or methods were expressed at some length. The epistemological method he rejects, because it takes no account of evolution. It treats mind, he says, as "a fixed product that can be exhaustively analysed instead of an organically living and developing growth."^{7} The 'psychological' method is dismissed for a slmllar reason. It studies the actual conditions and laws which govern the human mind as at present constituted; "whereas the human mind has a history."^{8} Two methods remain, the 'historical' and the 'teleological,' and between them Dr. Schmller has no hesitation in making a choice. He selects the teleological method, and rejects the historical, because the latter "supposes that the cause and explanation of a thing is to be found in its past."^{9}

This choice is significant. Teleology seeks to explain not by an appeal to past history, but by an appeal to ideals. Lower forms reveal themselves only as they develop; but their ratio essendi is to be learned not by looking back, but by looking forward to the higher end toward which they are continuously tending. The past is but the prelude to the future, and only by a study of the future can we hope to understand the past.

§ 129. Here, however, we meet with a difficulty. Future developments and higher forms not yet realised are in themselves unknown. The future, like the past, is an inference drawn from what we know of the present. For this reason Dr. Caird regards the teleological method as essentially 'heuristic.'

All that we can do [he says] is to use the principle that everything has an end or purpose, as suggesting continual enquiries into the relations of the pasts of organisms to each other; and in a secondary way, into the relations of different organisms to each other, and of the organic world to the inorganic.^{10}

In this passage the value of teleology seems to me to be somewhat under-rated; but at any rate this is true, that we have no direct knowledge of the future, but can only conjecture what human nature will become by an analytic study of what it is, by a consideration of the progress that has actually been made, and by a study of ideals and purposes which we set before our minds, and which, prompted by deep-felt needs, we ever strive to realise.

Dr. Schiller is right, then, in saying that lower forms are intelligible only in reference to higher, and that in consequence human nature must be interpreted not historically, but teleologically. Unfortunately, however, he seems at times to forget that the teleological method presupposes the psychological, and that in order to know what we were in the past or what we shall be in the future, we must first know, and know well what we are. And what is still more unfortunate, in practice Dr. Schiller does not use either the psychological or the teleological method, but that very historical method which he has expressly declared to be fallacious and in this he is at one with all pragmatists. Pragmatism is, as Mr. J. M. Baldwin has defined it, "an attempt to construe all reality retrospectively; and to this source must be attributed the psychological and epistemological errors which I have enumerated above.

§ 130. The connection of the Postulatory or Experimental Theory of Knowledge with the doctrine of Evolution is obvious. In evolution all psychological changes take the form of what Avenarius has called 'a vital series,' which may be represented physiologically by disturbance of equilibrium -- action -- restoration of equilibrium in a modified form, psychologically by impulse -- -- striving -- satisfaction and in the cognitive order by postulation -- experiment -- verified truth. Now in endeavouring to force axioms into conformity with this hypothetical type of cognitive process, Dr. Schiller, instead of taking axioms for what they are and working backwards, so to speak, begins by assuming that they originated as postulates, and working forwards on these lines, ends by denying that they are axioms at all. His explanation is not teleological but historical. Axioms are not represented as something of a higher nature than mere postulates, but are transformed into postulates which custom and human forgetfulness have permitted to acquire an illusory axiomatic appearance. It is the intuitionist who really explains axioms teleologically; for he first enquires what axioms are, and what is their function in knowledge, and finding that they are now self-evident and that they serve human purposes better as self-evident truths than as postulates, he is careful in tracing their history not to assign them an origin incompatible with their present 'higher' form or their present useful function. Axioms were always axioms, but they have had a history because, though implicitly understood and used in all human thought, many attempts have been made to formulate them, and these attempts have not always met with equal success. The pragmatist is hopelessly inconsistent here. His actual method and his methodological principles are in direct contradiction. He lays down as a principle that the lower must be interpreted in the light of the higher. He examines human cognition as it at present exists, and finds that much knowledge is acquired by means of postulation and experiment. So far, so good. But, instead of proceeding with his examination of other 'higher' forms of cognition of which we have direct knowledge in our present experience, he forthwith casts psychology to the winds, and generalising his doctrine of postulation, proceeds to trace the history of knowledge by the aid of this one-sided and partial truth. The result is that the existence of universal and necessary truths is declared to be an illusion. and thus, finding himself in contradiction with the fact that in our experience we recognise such truths, the pragmatist is forced to re-interpret them in a strained, unnatural and 'lower' sense.

§ 131. Let us take as another illustration of the pragmatic attempt to square philosophy with evolution, viz., the doctrine that all knowledge is ultimately reducible to sense-experience, in place of which conceptual thought has substituted images, dim or clear, symbols or words. What has happened? Convinced that the human mind has had a history and has been evolved from some lower form of life, the pragmatist does not study the higher forms of cognition which at present exist, and so discover the presuppositions without which, whatever their origin, present forms could never have come to exist. All he does is to seek about in our experience for some trace of a lowest form from which by the aid of a powerful imagination he can suppose the rest to have been evolved. And he discovers sentience, or what he calls 'pure experience.' Then, gratuitously assuming that with this the human mind did de facto start, he goes on to trace its development, and to show what, on this assumption, conception and intellectual activity really must be. Granting him his premises, and the validity of his method, the conclusion he draws is logical enough: concepts cannot be more than images, or, as Hume said, 'faint copies of sensation' and intellect cannot be other than the habit we have acquired, of substituting these pseudo-concepts for the sense-termini to which they refer. But once again, as a consequence of his method, the pragmatist finds himself in violent contradiction with the facts.

§ 132. This loose and inconsistent psychology is in marked contrast with the careful analysis of Cognition which underlies the Critical Method of Kant. Whatever we may think of the metaphysical conclusions to which that method has led, it began where a true philosophy must always begin -- with a study of man as he is. Kant's psychology, when compared with that of the pragmatist, is accurate and precise. He draws a careful distinction between faculty and faculty, function and function. He does not confuse sense and imagination with intellect, or intellect with will. He points out -- what the pragmatists are apt to forget -- that sensation, in abstraction from the synthetic activity of thought, can give us little more than a series^{11} of spatially extended impressions, without unity and without meaning. He recognises that intellect is essential to knowledge: without it, we may have pictures and images, but no cognition either of objects or of their relations. Yet Kant, in spite of his Apriorism, finds room for experience, and insists upon the necessity of 'mediation by experience' almost as much as the pragmatist himself. Aristotle is more emphatic still. For him, as for Kant, experience is necessary as the condition of thought; sensation as the means by which thought is brought into contact with reality; while imagination also is admitted as in some sense preparing the way for the syntheses of conception and judgment. But for Aristotle all knowledge is derived from experience, and the knowledge that is so derived is not phenomenal merely, but real. He, too, however, like Kant, affirms that intellectual activity is essential to knowledge, and that without it sensations and images have no significance at all. Truth and falsity do not belong to sensation at all; for whether an object is present or not, it is only by thinking about it that it comes to have meaning for us.

§ 133. Thus it is in Pragmatism alone, except for an antiquated Empiricism of which it is the latest development, that the function of the intellect is confused in a most un-psychological fashion with the totally different function of volition and sense. Volition, sensation and intellect combine to give us knowledge, but, as Kant says, "because knowledge arises from their united action, this is no reason for confusing the function of one with that of the other." And from this confusion, what does the pragmatist hope to attain ? His aim would seem to be to get a theory of knowledge which shall be consistent with the theory of evolution. Yet even here he fails; for if thought is simply an economic process, by means of which we seek to adapt ourselves to our environment, it should, according to the general law of organic life, tend to become unconscious in proportion as it has secured that end, and, as a habit, has become fixed. This, however, is not the case. Axioms and other habits of thought, though constant, show no sign of becoming unconscious. Hence, even on evolutionary principles, the pragmatic account of knowledge breaks down. True, "the progress of action causes the progress also of thought, as the progress of thought conditions and determines the progress of action" but if the function of thought is merely to determine the progress of action; if, in essence, it is symbolised sentience and its only function is to 'lead' thereto ; if, as M. Blondel says, it is but a 'moment in the general dynamic of life';^{12} its present form, its distinctive features, the consciousness which still attends the most stable of its habits, becomes a mystery, for it is something wholly incompatible with the origin assigned.

§ 134. Failure, inconsistency, illicit generalisation, one-sided emphases, conclusions only partially worked out, meet us everywhere in the pragmatic Theory of Knowledge; and the explanation of this is to be found in the 'thoroughly-genetic psychology' which Pragmatism is determined to secure regardless of the cost. What the late Dr. Caird has said of the prevailing method of 'explaining the world' aptly describes the attitude of Pragmatism in regard to knowledge. It is " an attempt to level downwards," i.e., to take the lowest forms (of thought) as the explanation of those that stand higher in the scale.^{13} The true method, on the other hand, recognises that we cannot interpret "even the lowest existence in the world . . . except on principles which are adequate to explain the highest. We must 'level up,' not 'level down.' "^{14} We must explain by means of "le principe supérieur qui en se réalisant suscite les conditions de sa réalisation, que c'est la forme elle-même qui façonne la matière son usage."^{15} Yet so eager is the pragmatist in his desire to explain origin and to trace development, that true methods are thrown to the winds. He admits that the teleological method is the true one, that we must 'explain the lower as an imperfect realisation of the higher' and not explain the higher as a development from what we imagine the lower to have been. He acknowledges the necessity of analysing our experience as it is, allowing that "as we ourselves are the highest examples of individuals we know, it is only in exploring the depths of our own nature that the clue to the riddle of the world is to be sought." But when he comes to practical work, he cannot waste time on analytic psychology or on a study of human ideals. Validity is of little consequence, provided origin can be assigned. And should an adversary venture to criticise results or to indicate the illogical character of each procedure, he exposes himself to an onslaught almost mediaeval in its fury and in the brilliancy of the epithets bestowed. Indeed, to such a pass have matters come of late that the venerable Peirce, the reputed father of all pragmatists, disgusted with such methods, has felt constrained to disown his own children. Writing in a recent number of the Hibbert Journal,^{16} he says, "Their avowedly undefinable position, if it be not capable of logical characterisation, seems to me to be characterised by an angry hatred of strict logic, and even some disposition to rate any exact thought which interferes with it as all humbug."^{17}

So long as such a practice prevails, it is impossible to hope for satisfactory results from the pragmatist and I think we shall find that in the more serious sphere of Metaphysics and of Truth pragmatic methods have not been conducive to the growth of sound philosophy.

{1} Hegel, Phil. of Mind (Wallace trans.), 379.

{2} Studies in Humanism, p. 7.

{3} Ibid., p. 356.

{4} Symbols doubtless bave meaning in the pragmatic sense of 'leading to,' or 'working harmoniously with,' reality, but not in the realist's sense of signifying the nature of something real.

{5} By this I mean that knowledge of the last may throw light upon our knowledge of the present, as well as vice versa; but this use of the historical principle is indirect, since it presupposes that the past has been rightly interpreted.

{6} Entitled Riddles of the Sphinx.

{7} Ibid., p. 148.

{8} Ibid., p. 149.

{9} Ibid., p. 174.

{10} The Critical Philosophy of Kant, vol. ii., p. 449.

{11} A series of impressions, i.e., in the sense that the continuity of sentient experience is broken up by the focussing of attention first on one object, then on another.

{12} Appendix to the Bulletin de la Société de Philosophie, 1901-2, p. 190.

{13} Critical Philosophy of Kant, vol. i., p. 34.

{14} Ibid., p. 35. Boutroux, De l'idée de loi naturelle.

{15} Riddles of the Sphinx, p. 240.

{16} October, 1908, p. 112.

{17} Dr. Schiller repudiates the 'paternity' of Peirce, and rightly so, I think, at any rate, so far as Humanism is concerned. All Peirce did was to suggest the general idea of the Pragmatic Method. (cf. Pragmatism, p. 46.)