There is a profound difference between the intellectual activity of the primitive man inclined to myth-making, superstition, and visualizing mystical powers and that of the educated European of our own day with his search for exact scientific knowledge. Modern culture tends to educate the mind in the direction of sober scientific thought, and it is very important that this tendency should be subjected to a critical examination. Before beginning the pursuit of the educational ideal it is essential to see wherein the difference between the savage and the civilized mind really consists and to determine the relative value of primitive and scientific thought.

“He who tries to rise above reason, falls outside of it,” said Plotinus. If this be so; if, as Plotinus said also, “ Nous is King,” reason must cover more than inferential reasoning. The methods of inference are not sovereign, but manifestly instrumental; they furnish the scaffolding for the mind's ascent, but not the goal of its endeavour. This distinction between the wider and the narrower use of reason is familiar in every age of thought; it appears in the Platonic and Aristotelian doctrines of Nous, in Aquinas's discrimination of discursive and intuitive knowledge, in Spinoza's of ratio and scientia intuiliva, and in that of the understanding and the reason in post–Kantian idealism. At times, as in the case last mentioned, it has been pressed to an extreme, with the result that reason was set in sharp contrast to the understanding, which came to be regarded as a separate faculty and even as a source of error. Wordsworth, to whom the antithesis passed through Coleridge, wrote of “that false secondary power, by which we multiply distinctions.” In face of such excesses, it behoves us to be on our guard, and to remember that thought is one amid the diversity of its operations, and that faith is at least as fallible as logic. It is only by co-operating in the service of reason that either can point the way to truth.

It is difficult for a philosopher to contemplate with equanimity the fate which is overtaking, if it has not already overtaken, the word logical. “Logical” is one of a trio of words selected by the Greeks to represent the three main departments of philosophy; and of this trio the other two members, the words “ethical” and “physical,” have at least remained respectable; and to be called “philosophical” is almost a compliment. But to be logical is apparently, at least in England, to enter on very questionable courses: it is to class yourself with every reckless extremist, with the latest and wildest ism in art, politics, and literature, with Russians and Frenchmen and the “Latin mind.” No less a person than H.M. Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs, on no less an occasion than an Assembly of the League of Nations, has lately proclaimed proudly to the gathered nations that lack of logic is the special virtue and privilege of the British Empire. The “lesser breeds within the law” heard no doubt and trembled, wondering how they could ever compete with a Power to which the laws of thought themselves were mere expediencies. Thus it appears, if Sir Austen Chamberlain is right, that to be logical is to fall into a human weakness or vice, and that this weakness or vice is fortunately commoner outside than inside the British Empire.

Even those who have not yet read Dr. Broad’s recent book on The Mind and its Place in Nature have not improbably had their attention drawn to his carefully considered pronouncement on Behaviourism. At the close of ten pages of critical discussion he says: “ It seems to me that Reductive Materialism in general, and strict Behaviourism in particular, may be rejected. They are instances of the numerous class of theories which are so preposterously silly that only very learned men could have thought of them. I may be accused of breaking a butterfly on a wheel in this discussion of Behaviourism. But it is important to remember that a theory which is in fact absurd may be accepted by the simple-minded because it is put forward in highly technical terms by learned persons who are themselves too confused to know exactly what they mean. When this happens, as it has happened with Behaviourism, the philosopher is not altogether wasting time by analysing the theory and pointing out its implications” (pp. 623–4). I quote the passage at length so that those of us who dally with Behaviourism may realize just how they stand.

The critical attacks of Philosophy upon the Catholic Faith which have developed since the eighteenth century have at last forced the defenders of that religion to consider the metaphysical foundations of their belief. This is all to the good; the disastrous attempt to separate belief from the searching questions of Reason has resulted in confusion and embarrassment both to Faith and Philosophy.

The thesis which I wish to recommend to you is that science is a form of art though not of fine art: that like art, it is a human invention, not less real for that, and having value, or being valuable, partly if not mainly because of that. I mean to indicate by this statement that for me at least a better insight can be got into the nature of science by considering it as a form of art, and asking how it differs from and how it resembles fine art.

In various ways literature and the arts, science, religion and politics, come home to the ordinary man and are real for him. It is easy to see how they affect his life. Philosophy seems a thing more remote. Has it, too, had its influence on mankind? Can it point, directly or indirectly, to services rendered, work done, in the service of civilization?.

The problem of individuality, physical and mental, is one which obviously has great interest for philosophy. The unity and continuity of the ordinary human consciousness—the “ ego,” the “personality—give us the concrete standard by which we ordinarily judge other systems which have tended towards individuation. A comparative and evolutionary study of biological data, however, will provide us with many facts which throw a new light on the problem. They are often puzzling, but must be taken into account.

We can put our view briefly by saying that when the scientist has no more doubts, the philosopher will have none either; and that when the philosopher is completely satisfied, the scientist will agree with him. But since such an end is countless years ahead and may never arrive, it is perhaps better to say that the philosopher and the scientist are pursuing the same end, and that the task involves both the elaboration of proper conceptions and the investigation of the events of the universe by the aid of these conceptions.

We entered upon the work of last session under the heavy cloud occasioned by the loss of Mr. F. H. Bradley, who died only a few days before its opening at the age of seventy-eight; and, in the midst of that session, on March 4th, Professor James Ward passed away at the ripe age of eighty-two years. Thus the two foremost English philosophers of our time have been removed from our midst; and it seems fitting that, in commencing the duties of this new session, I should say something about their contributions to our common pursuit, and try to indicate what we owe to them who have been for so long the leaders of philosophical research in this country.

In the history of English Idealism in the nineteenth century a great place must be given to the work of two men who held the chair of Moral Philosophy in the University of Glasgow for two periods of twenty-eight years, from 1866 to 1922, Edward Caird and Henry Jones.

Consider two fairly simple, natural occurrences: a storm at sea and an earthquake. Many descriptions of these things have been made, but what interests us here are their scientific descriptions. In the first case, then, we have to deal with changes in the pressure and temperature of the atmosphere, with violent motions of the air and with waves in the sea. In the second case we deal with stratified rocks that are in a state of severe strain. When this strain exceeds a certain limit the rocks are fractured and waves are set up in the elastic materials of the earth's crust. In most cases storms and earthquakes happen when we do not expect them, and so there is usually little time to investigate them in an adequate manner. But there is no doubt whatever that if we could make all the researches that are practicable we could “ explain” individual storms and earthquakes. “Explanation” means re-describing the phenomena in the simplest manner possible, that is, in terms of space, time, gravitation, energy-transformations, chemical constitution of the materials concerned, etc. Such explanations can be (and indeed have been) made of the occurrences mentioned above, and the physical ideas we have noted are all that are included in the explanations.

Many contributions have been made in recent psychological literature to the study of the nature of emotion, yet profound differences of opinion remain both as to the aetiology and function of emotional states. I propose in this paper to inquire whether a consistent theory can be put forward which would do justice to all the facts that recent investigations have brought to light. It would appear that the defects of most of the theories of emotion are due to the fact that they exaggerate some aspect or phrase of emotion and claim for it exclusive or predominant value.

The Behaviourist finds himself in rather a peculiar situation to-day. Denying mind, the philosophers will have nothing to do with him; denying consciousness and its sub-divisions (sensations, perceptions, images, and the like), the psychologist will have nothing to do with him. The further implication from all this, viz. that there is no unconscious, no sub-conscious, no conscious, leads the psychoanalyst to have nothing to do with him.

Of late years, even in Italy, no really new personalities or original orientations of thought have made their appearance in philosophy. The best that has been done in our studies consists in ample work consolidating the mental positions already gained during the prewar period, and in slow but unceasing efforts of philosophic thought to permeate the other strata of our culture. It is not paradoxical to affirm that to-day the best fruits of the renewed philosophic education are to be gathered not in books of philosophy, but in books of literary and artistic criticism, of history, and of political and moral science. All this is not merely fortuitous, but proceeds directly and consciously from the trend of the new Italian philosophic thought, which shrinks from isolating itself in an intellectual and fictitious superworld, preferring on the contrary to be a living methodology of the sciences, and to give to its universals the relief and, I might almost say, the savour, of particular things.

Evoluvation is one of the badly over worked words, like “ force,” “ instinct,” and “ value.” It means a process of Becoming. but it is applied to various orders of facts which have very little in common, either as regards the material evolving or in the way in which the evolution comes about. We hear of the evolution of a solar system, the evolution of matter, the evolution of religion, the evolution of the chemical elements, the evolution of man, the evolution of language, the evolution of scenery, the evolution of the horse, the evolution of mind, the evolution of plants, the evolution of sex, the evolution of society, the evolution of species, the evolution of evolution theories, and so on. When processes that are different are called by the same name, there is bound to be confusion; and it is more than verbal. We venture to make some simple suggestions which, if accepted, would lessen the confusion.

While there have always been schools of religious and ethical thought favourable to poverty, or a simple life, the general opinion of mankind has always regarded the increasing wealth of an individual or a community as conducive to human happiness. Qualifications have commonly been attached to this judgment in recognition of a certain danger and deceitfulness of riches, especially when rapidly acquired and lavishly expended, but the presumption still stands that wealth in general conduces to well-being. The nature, degree or conditions of this correspondence have, however, received singularly little attention from those thinkers who have given closest study to economic processes. Many of the founders of economic science in this and other countries were manifestly concerned for the general welfare of their fellowmen, and were active workers in many fields of social reform. But, in formulating the concepts and laws of their science, they deemed it unnecessary to give any close or continuous thought to the relations between economic wealth and human welfare. This was due, partly, no doubt to the natural desire to make the subject-matter and the treatment of a new science as definitely concrete and measurable as possible. It was this desire that made monetary valuation paramount in all economic estimates.

To this, his first book, the author owed the opportunities of travel and leisure which enabled him to perfect his second, the Wealth of Nations, 1776. It has needed all the fame of the second to keep alive the memory of the first. The Moral Sentiments founded no school, and is usually passed over with the faint praise due to the author's reputation. Yet Burke welcomed its theory as “in all its essential parts just” (Annual Register, 1759, p. 484; Rae's Life of Adam Smith, p. 145); and it was treated by Lessing with respect, though not agreement, in the Laocoon, 1766 (ch. iv).

Discussions on the distinction between philosophy and science are apt to seem rather futile and academic. They would quickly lose that character if they were thought to have any bearing on the question of social survival or decay. That they have such a bearing follows if the following considerations are true, and I think that they are: first, that amongst the conditions of a society’s survival an indispensable one is the prevalence within it of a certain vision of it; secondly, that in its type this vision is akin to philosophy and not to science; and thirdly, that the due cultivation of it necessitates our being careful not to mistake its affiliations.