According to Plato, it is the aim of Philosophy to furnish us with a certain vision of all time and all existence. This must always have seemed a large and difficult undertaking; but the opening years of the present century have already introduced considerable changes in our estimation of magnitudes. We are learning to think of modes of existence that are much more minute and of others that are much larger than any that had previously been conceived with any definiteness. Analysis now leads us to entities and processes that are almost inconceivably small; and synthesis points to a totality that is almost inconceivably great, and that may be even greater than we know. Our interests naturally begin with our human lives on earth ; and we are rapidly discovering that even these have to be thought of in ways that were hardly possible for any previous generation. In a sense, it may be said that our human world has been becoming much smaller. Distances within it are beginning to seem, in many respects, almost negligible ; and great hopes may be based upon this contraction.

In the first part of this article an attempt was made to clear the ground for a functional theory of knowledge, and the discussion of structure and function with which it concluded enables us to approach the problem of cognition. If the view already set forth is sound, it seems clear that the relation of the mind to its object is a function and not a structure of the mental processes involved. The mere existence of a mental content, however complex it may be, however decorated with fringes or set off by a background, does not constitute an act of knowledge or give the content a meaning. In order to see a mental act as cognitive we must consider its function, its origin, its results, and in general the circumstances in which it stands.

To treat of the relation between life and matter, after the problem has been discussed from so many points of view and in the light of the teachings of philosophers of all ages, must seem perhaps ambitious and certainly presumptuous; but I presume that philosophers do not consider that they have completely solved the age-long problem, and some may be willing to hear what a physicist has to suggest in the light of our present knowledge of nature. I have no wish to challenge controversy, but controversial topics cannot be wholly avoided.

At the beginning of this article I propose to use the word “ evolution “ as it is used in biology, to mean the formation of a number of vegetable or animal species out of a few comparatively simple types, and to exclude from its connotation any idea of perfection, purpose, value, and so on.

The problem to which the present paper is addressed is one aspect of that of the relationship between Religion and Morality. That God is good is a proposition which presents itself to many with axiomatic force, and by its help the path is traced which leads directly either from Religion to Morality or from Morality to Religion. Yet the reflective mind may well ask: By what evidence, or in what way, do we know that God is good? If the proposition rests on evidence in the ordinary sense, what is it and wherein lies its convincing character? Or if it rests, as is often asserted, on another sort of knowledge altogether, what is this non-experiential cognition and what are its guarantees ? Or again, we may ask whether the proposition is analytic, i.e.

We may consider the possibility of man's freedom from two points of view: (i) From the point of view of the metaphysical problem of “ free-will “; (2) from the point of view of the meaning and conditions of felt freedom. The first point of view is the more familiar, and I propose to discuss it here only by way of preparing for a consideration of the second.

In the historical process by which our knowledge develops, new ideas and new experiences tend very naturally to define themselves by reference to the old. It is not merely that an original thinker must express his originality in terms of old modes of language and thought (which is true and important), but that the new idea, the new experience, being vague and indistinctly grasped, is apt to coin for its expression and propagation phrases in which the emphasis falls upon the difference or variation from what is familiar and concretely understood. In the history of practical developments like that of the theory of political organization this factor is both evident and momentous. In the transition to modern democracy, for example, the familiar distinction between the Sovereign and Subjects dictates the form in which the old order is challenged.