The bearing of certain psychological doctrines upon ethical theory is important, and has been made use of especially by those who espouse empiricism in Ethics. It is the purpose of this paper to examine some of these leading doctrines and the ethical theory which has been connected with them. In doing so, it is appropriate to select for examination the views of Professor W. McDougall, as expressed principally in his Social Psychology and Outline of Psychology; and this for two reasons. One is, that these views are significant of much more than the opinions of one man. They may be taken quite fairly as representative, in the main, of a definite body of doctrine concerning the nature and development of moral experience.

§ 21. Until a few years ago the hope of the physicist seems on the whole to have been that he would eventually be able to exhibit a single interconnected system of perfectly deterministic causal laws. He took the relation of cause and effect in all change to be such that from a determinate antecedent state of that which changes there must necessarily follow a different subsequent state of it, and it was assumed by him that complete knowledge of the antecedent state must enable exact prediction of the subsequent state. I do not think it matters here whether that which changes was taken as a limited subject of change or as the whole physical world.

Nicolai Hartmann, in an interesting discussion of Aristotle’s account of moral virtue, has called attention to the difference between the contrariety of opposed vices and the contrast of certain virtues. The äκρa or extremes, somewhere between which Aristotle thought that any morally virtuous disposition (with the possible exception of justice) must lie, are not conciliable. The same man cannot combine or reconcile, in the same action, cowardice and bravery, intemperance and insensibility, stinginess and thriftlessness, passion and lack of spirit. These are pairs of contraries, between which a virtue lies; but the virtue is not a synthesis of the extremes in a pair.

Nothing makes the occupation with the great minds of the past more attractive than the fact that with the change in the whole situation of the present time, with the maturing of one’s own personality, they appear in a new light and present themselves in rejuvenated shape. I had a curious experience of this kind, when it occurred to me during the investigation of some phenomenological problems, that Goethe, though ignorant of the name, had employed a definitely phenomenological method. In occupying myself now with the revealing of this fact, it will be my leading principle to understand Goethe through himself, and I shall try not to adapt his meanings to my own theories.

The image of nature as causality has been a major theme of science and poetry. It has been a symbol of hope and fear, of progress and futility. Yet its meaning has seldom been clear. Prior to any statement about the relation of causality to physical nature, life, and mind, its meaning should be established. I shall therefore first define causality, and I shall then discuss its applicability to nature.

Prefatory. The Logic of Theism.–Our world, the thing or complex of things, which is continuous and co-ordinate with our present perception, is self-transcendent. The proof is from observation, from our reactions, which are often more sensitive than our direct observations, from the testimony of philosophers, expert psychologists, and poets (cited in the text).

To say that our world is self-transcendent is to say that it presents itself to our minds as indigent of some sort of supplement or complement having some sort of ontological status which it implies in some capacity.

The problem of the Logic of Theism is the problem of determining, assigning a definite value to, these “somes.” In other words, the proof of God is the proof that what “our world implies” when it is made determinate corresponds with the received conception of God in such a way as to justify the substitution of the name God for the indication “what our world implies.”

Some time ago I had a shock. I was reading, in the Mathematical Gazette for March 1931, Sir A. S. Eddington's presidential address to the Mathematical Association in 1930. And quite suddenly I came on the statement that the number of protons in the universe is either 7 or 14 with 78 noughts after it. My breath was taken away. Readers of R. L. Stevenson's story, Providence and the Guitar, will remember the maiden lady who, after hearing what the Commissary said when he was woken up in the night, felt her maiden modesty so outraged that she doubted if she ranked any longer as a maiden lady. I felt just like that. I felt that my philosophic modesty had been so outraged that I doubted if I ranked any longer as a humble student of philosophy. Sir Arthur has certainly not counted them. Then how in the world does he know that they are what he says they are?

Is the assimilation of these two formulations of the moral principle by Kant and some of his expositors justified?

In the Analytic of Pure Practical Reason Kant claims that his view of morality agrees with the ancient command that man should love his neighbour as himself. Also in the Fundamental Principles of the Metaphysic of Morals he regards the Golden Rule as a deduction, though with several limitations, from the second version of the Categorical Imperative.

No trait is more characteristic of contemporary philosophy in France than its continued fecundation by the physical and biological sciences. The divorce between philosophy and science that existed in the first half of last century is now regarded, by almost common consent, as an error of the great pre-war Unenlightenment. The ménage is rémonté; the vieilles traditions of Descartes and Pascal live again, though very transfigured. How long the alliance may endure, how and how much it may benefit both parties, it would be idle to prophesy. But it is significant that Boutroux and Bergson were compelled to devote much energy to acquiring a scientific competence, the one in mechanics, the other in biology. It is still more significant that a number of professional scientists (such as Milhaud, Duhem, Hannequin, Paul Tannery, Poincare, and Meyerson) should, with the passing of years, have contributed less to their sciences and increasingly to philosophy. This mutual invasion of territories has, indeed, become so considerable and enduring that philosophy in France is at present, for good or ill, almost wholly ‘philosophy of the sciences.’ It is now within this ‘internationalized’ neutral zone that the distinction between the epistemological and the ontological has to be drawn. Thus, Meyerson fairly represents the former emphasis, Bergson and Le Roy the latter. And if it is rare for one man to hold successively a chair in mathematics and a chair in philosophy, like Milhaud and Whitehead, rarer still is it for one man to hold both concurrently. But M. Edouard Le Roy has for many years lectured on mathematics and mechanics at the Faculte des Sciences in Paris; he has extended and modified Bergsonism from Bergson's former chair at the College de France.

The generally accepted interpretation of Kant's formula “act only on that maxim which thou canst at the same time will to be a universal law,” is roughly as follows:—

Our moral experience is fundamentally a consciousness of the difference between Duty and Inclination, between "doing what we ought to whether we like to or not, and doing merely what we like whether we ought to or not."1 When we have open to our choice different acts, there are some which we would like to do, others we would not like to do, and perhaps others towards which we are indifferent; or we like to do any one of them, or we may dislike all, or we may be indifferent to all. But we must ignore our inclinations, our aversions, our attractions, and our indifferences. We must ask ourselves which of the acts open to our choice ought we to do, no matter what our feelings in the matter may be.

In the Critique of So-called Practical Knowledge Alf Ross wishes to show that ethical judgments are nonsensical. He begins by asserting that when people speak about practical knowledge they mean knowledge which contains an unconditional command to the will, and this, he points out, involves a confusion between knowledge and volition. Thus, since all ethical theories are forms of practical knowledge, they are doomed to failure. All ethical theories can be classified into two types: they all belong to the ethics of value or the ethics of duty. These differ very radically, since the one takes value and the other duty as its fundamental concept; but they are inadequate for the same reasons. Both value and duty are self-contradictory concepts, and both awareness of value and awareness of duty are quite different from what ethical theories suppose.

Philosophers, accounted wise in their generation and even beyond their generation, have enthroned the unchanging and sung the praises of fatality and acquiescence. But there is a voice even more authoritative than that of the sages—the voice of the LifeShaper himself. Perched on the height of the human soul, he has set two watchmen, more sagacious and knowing than the Metaphysicians who weave words “About it and about” in the taverns beneath; their names are Wonder and Surprise. Wonder spies out novelty, and Surprise discerns change. Wonder arises at that which is beyond expectation; Surprise at that which is contrary to expec tation. What could completely surpass expectation save the completely novel? What could so drastically dismantle expectation save the hurricane onset of change?

The aim of this paper is not to enter into a detailed discussion of the nature of the Absolute and the Individual, but to show that on the Hegelian conception of the Absolute the individual self is not saved. Hegel is fond of reiterating that his Absolute is not a bare one, but a one in many, an organic whole, a perfect and harmonious system of an infinite number of individual selves. The individual, as in Spinoza and Schelling, does not lose itself in the Absolute. The latter is not a lion's den into which all animals enter but from which none returns, not a mere darkness in which all cows are black, but a system of different individuals.

Platonic studies continue to be cultivated, even in Italy, with undiminished fervour. And in Italy, as in England and Germany, interpretation tends to pass from one extreme to the opposite. At one time the chief concern of the exponents of Plato was to reconstruct his ”system“; and since his thought did not easily lend itself to unification, every effort was made to force it within the limits of a preconceived scheme. The present tendency, however, is to start from the opposite standpoint–that there is no philosophy of Plato, only a variable philosophical activity which is, as it were, consumed in each dialogue in turn, to be rekindled inexplicably in the next. Hence the work of interpretation reduces itself to a summary of the contents of various writings, arranged as far as possible in chronological order, and each examined independently as a complete and self-sufficing entity. The systematic interpreters used to make all the dialogues burn with a single flame, for which is now substituted a series of ignes fatui in which the connection is lost, or only visible at intervals.

F. Enriques and G. de Santillana have begun in collaboration the composition of a general history of scientific thought. The first volume of this work, which has been recently published, is concerned with the science of antiquity,1 and to a large extent covers the same ground as the history of ancient philosophy, as the frontiers of philosophy and natural science, at any rate until the time of Aristotle, were not yet clearly differentiated. But the two historians are interested in bringing into prominence a great many problems and personalities that the history of philosophy generally leaves on one side, although they help to complete and vivify the picture of the mentality of the ancients. Mathematics, medicine, geography, astronomy, applied mechanics, and physics, in short all the particular scientific studies that were just beginning to detach themselves from the parent trunk of general philosophy are studied by the authors in their individual developments and through the personalities of their cultivators. The explanations are clear and simple and can be followed even by readers unversed in science; the information is at first hand and is supplemented by a careful discussion of sources. The scientific questions are not isolated from the historical setting of the civilization of antiquity, but are shown in relation to matters of philosophy, religion, art, and moral and political life. The bibliography, intended for the more purely scientific and technical departments of philosophy, forms a very useful and timely completion of the bibliography of philosophic thought in general.

In his two volumes on Intuitive Thought Professor Edouard Le Roy continues his idealistic interpretation of spiritual creativity, and turns from its ‘products’ manifested in biological and human evolution to consider its most intimate character, as it is ‘lived through’ or directly experienced in intuitive and inventive thinking. The whole plan and its execution are determined by two characteristic themes of Bergsonism—intuition and the dynamical schema—though these are repensès in a quite original way. “Intuitive thought” and “metaphysical thought,” M. Le Roy affirms in the preface, are “one and the same”; the latter is condemned only by those who misconceive the former. So by correcting misunderstandings he seeks to