“NATURAL theology” is generally used as the name of a study which seeks to “get at religious truth” by the use of man's reasoning powers, and not to expound revelation. But I want to limit its application to part of this field. By natural theology I mean here a study which seeks to “get at religious truth” by an empirical examination of things, and not by “pure reason.” It is a (would–be) “scientific” theology. An example of a natural theologian in this sense would be, I suppose, the author of any one of the Bridgewater Treatises, or Paley, or F. R. Tennant. Perhaps I might have called this kind of theology “empirical theology” (or “empiricist theology”); but I do not want to invent new terms more than I have to.

‘Every education teaches a philosophy; if not by dogma then by suggestion, by implication, by atmosphere. Every part of that education has a connection with every other part. If it does not all combine to convey some general view of life it is not education at all’ (Chesterton).

In an essay written for the thirtieth volume of the British Journal of Educational Studies, R. F. Dearden surveyed philosophy of education during the period 1952–82. As might be imagined he was largely concerned with the emergence in and development through these years of analytical philosophy of education, as the influence of linguistic or conceptual analysis spread beyond the somewhat ill-defined boundaries of core philosophy and was taken up by those interested in the theoretical presuppositions of educational practice. After charting the course of this development, and having reached the point at which certain worries arose about the limits of conceptual analysis as a method, Dearden turned to consider what if any alternatives might be available. The first possibility which he mentions in expectation of its having received explicit articulation is Catholic philosophy of education. However, as he notes, nothing meeting this description was developed during the period in question—in effect, since the war. The one book which he mentions, viz. Jacques Maritain's Education at the Crossroads, is barely known of in professional philosophy of education and in style and content is quite out of the mainstream.

By a “world-outlook” I mean a systematic account of the nature of the world which claims, by showing the place of man in the scheme of things, to indicate the point and purpose of his life. The theory of the world is often called a metaphysical theory and the theory of conduct an ethical or moral theory. In my opinion the clarification and criticism of world-outlooks is a fundamental part of philosophy. Indeed, I hardly think that philosophy would have existed as something distinct from science or poetry but for the tendency to attempt some explanation of the world as the scene of human endeavour. When Kant referred to “the inevitable problems of pure reason” about “God, freedom, and immortality,” he was referring in a summary way to the fundamental philosophical task of analysing and criticizing world-outlooks, a task that may be undertaken even by those philosophers who do not believe that any world-outlook is or could be adequate. It is clear, of course, that the civilized religions, since they seek to show how human conduct fits in with some Divine Plan or Cosmic Conflict, have world-outlooks. It is, however, misleading to look upon religions and world-outlooks as the same thing, as some people do. For in ordinary usage religion involves belief in supernatural beings and conduct regulated in the light of this belief, but according to some world-outlooks (e.g. that of Spinoza) there are no supernatural beings, while according to others (e.g. Epicureanism) beings may exist deserving that description but human conduct need take no account of them.

The first solid bit of argumentation you get in Plato's Phaedo goes something like this: Whatever comes to be, comes to be from its opposite (cf. 70e, sqq.). If at a certain time t a given thing a begins to be F, before that time t it must have been non-F. Wherever a pair of predicates, F and G, are genuine contradictories; where, that is, they stand to each other in the same relation as F stands in to non-F; it is necessarily true that if a began to be F at t before then a was G. The only trouble comes from the difficulty of finding substitutes for F and G that people will allow to be genuine contradictories. It the butter began to be soft at four o'clock, we may suggest, before four it was hard. A tiresome opponent will retort that there is a state in which butter cannot properly be called either hard or soft. We try again: If Ann began to be asleep at eight, before eight she was awake; if my shirt became dirty on Tuesday, before Tuesday it was clean; if Bonzo died last week, before last week he was alive. And when the advocate of the borderline state reminds us of the various twilight areas of consciousness or cleanliness, we are reduced to legislation: “asleep” shall henceforth apply to every mental state short of complete wakefulness, “alive” to every condition of the body before the onset of putrefaction, “clean” to every shirt incapable of producing a certain measurable discoloration in the water in which it is washed. “Let F and G be contradictories”, we still guardedly maintain: “then if a comes to be F at time t, before time t a was G”.

The last survey of philosophy in France to appear in this journal was published in July 1939. Although the circumstances of the war do not seem to have prevented the publication of philosophical books in France to the extent that they have done so in this country, they have pretty effectively limited their transmission across the Channel until the last year or two. In consequence it is by no means easy to re-establish continuity between the publications of the pre-war period and the rather random trickle of new books now being received by the editor of Philosophy. Some useful information on the intervening period is contained in an article by Professor Lalande in the Philosophical Review for January 1946 (Vol. LV, No. 1). Readers of this article or of the files of the Revue Philosophique will find that in 1940 occurred the deaths of Abel Rey, known for his work on science in the ancient world, and of the philosopher and sociologist Célestin Bougié. In 1941 Bergson died. 1944 saw the death of Léon Brunschvicg, whose Descartes et Pascal lecteurs de Montaigne appeared that same year. Jean Cavaillfès, a logician known for his works published in 1938 on the axiomatic method and the theory of groups, was shot by the Germans for his part in the resistance movement. Maurice Halbwachs, for many years associated with the Année Sociologique died in Buchenwald in 1945. As for books that appeared during the war, I have not seen Professor Le Senne's Traité de Morale Générale, which appeared in 1942.

Within the field of virtue and vice epistemology open-mindedness is usually considered an archetypal virtue. Nevertheless, there is ongoing disagreement over how exactly it should be defined. In this paper I propose a novel definition of open-mindedness as a process of impartial belief revision and use it to argue that we should shift our normative assessments away from the trait itself to the context in which it is exercised. My definition works by three sequential stages: not screening new claims, impartially weighing the evidential strength of claims, and updating beliefs accordingly. Using this definition I argue for a focus on agents’ particular circumstances to determine what degrees of credulity, open-, or closed-mindedness are appropriate in any given situation. As well as providing conceptual clarity regarding the concept of open-mindedness this paper indicates the benefits of this contextual approach for our everyday epistemic attitudes. In particular it enables us to recognise, without stigma, when ourselves or others deviate from open-mindedness for appropriate reasons.

A young Greek student who arrived in Cambridge thirty years ago to readfor the Classical Tripos went to Bowes and Bowes to equip himself with the necessary works of reference. Besides his Liddell and Scott and his Lewis and Short he came away with a copy of A Guide to the Classics by Michael Oakeshott and G. T. Griffith, Fellows of Gonville and Caius College, not noticing that it was subtitled ‘How to Pick the Derby Winner’. Even when an author or editor is trying to avoid ambiguity there may still be questions of interpretation. The April 1926 issue of the Journal of Philosophical Studies printed three articles under the collective title ‘The Problem of Colour in Relation to the Idea of Equality’. They were the texts of papers read at a meeting of the newly founded British Institute of Philosophical Studies at the Royal Society of Arts on 16 February 1926. The title might suggest a symposium on problems discussed earlier by Goethe or later by Wittgenstein, or perhaps some investigation into the distinction between a priori and empirical concepts. The uncertainties of readers cannot have been long-lived. The symposiasts were Sir Frederick Lugard, KCMG, CB, DSO, Morris Ginsberg, MA, D.Litt. and the Hon. H. A. Wyndham. The same volume contained ‘The Primitive and the Civilized Mind’ by N. Lossky and the 1927 volume added Professor R. F. A. Hoernlé's ‘Prolegomena to the Study of the Black Man's Mind’.

It is clear that natural entities can be preserved – they can be preserved because they can be harmed or destroyed, or in various other ways adversely affected. I argue that in light of the rise of scientism and other forms of philistinism, the political, religious, mythic, personal and historical meanings that people find in those entities can also be preserved. Against those who impugn disciplines such as fine arts, philosophy and sociology, I contend that this sort of preservation requires the efforts of those whose work exemplifies the core values of the arts, the humanities and the qualitative social sciences.

Brian Calvert has offered us a clear and careful analysis of Locke′s views on punishment and capital punishment.1 The primary goal of his paper–that of correcting the misperception of Locke as a wholehearted proponent of capital punishment for a wide range of offences–must be allowed to be both laudable and largely achieved in his discussion. But Calvert′s analysis also encourages, I think, a number of serious misunderstandings of Locke′s true position.

I DO not have to apologize for entering upon a discussion of intelligence and intelligence tests; it is a field which comes within the purview of philosophy as well as psychology. Any method of testing intelligence is therefore of common interest, especially as the methodology employed is usually based upon some definite theory as to its nature. The very word intelligence covers a wide range of meanings and psychologists seem to select sections of this range at will in accordance with their particular interest. It may include most of the behavioural activities of man, or be narrowed down so that it refers to certain quantitative or relational aspects of experience. To take the case of the factor analyst, after his concept of intelligence has been analysed and classified into g's and s's, it becomes not a description of the mind, but rather a closed cognitive model of it.