S'iJ^pt^^B.^ 
 
 
 
€1)0 Concept ^^urpose 
 
 A PHILOSOPHICAL THESIS 
 
 by the 
 REV. ORROK COLLOQUE, Ph.D. 
 
 LIMITED EDITION 
 
 1 > J ' 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 Fourth Ave. and Twenty-Second St. 
 1904 
 

 PSVCH. 
 LIBRARV 
 
 Q^cIk 
 
Accepted in partial fulfillment of the 
 requirements for the Degree of Doctor 
 of Philosophy, by the Graduate School 
 of New York University, in 190 4-. 
 
 21)6240 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 PART I 
 THE PSYCHOLOGICAL GROUND 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I. Purpose and the Volitional Activity .... 3 
 
 II. Definition 15 
 
 III. The Purposes of Men 20 
 
 PART II 
 THE COSMOLOGICAL APPLICATION 
 
 IV. On Method 27 
 
 V. The Purposes of Beasts 30 
 
 VI. Purpose in Inorganic Nature 36 
 
 VII. The Purpose of Organic Nature 49 
 
 Bibliography . 56 
 
PART I 
 
 THE PSYCHOLOGICAL GROUND 
 

 THE CONCEPT PURPOSE 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 PURPOSE AND THE VOLITIONAL ACTIVITY 
 
 In the unity of consciousness, we find the intel- 
 lectual side of life and the volitional side of Hfe very 
 closely bound up together. We never find in expe- 
 rience either the intellectual or the volitional elements 
 independent and alone. In psychology we find neu- 
 roses and psychoses inevitably linked together; and if 
 we examine ideas, and try to determine their nature, 
 we again find the intellectual and the volitional closely 
 intertwined. Both are imited in a single conscious- 
 ness. According to the philosophy of Locke, ideas are 
 the objects of thought. Locke's definitions of " Idea '* 
 are as follows: An idea is "whatsoever is the object 
 of the understanding, when a man thinks" . . . "what- 
 ever it is which the mind can be employed about in 
 thinking." Ideas are the material with which the mind 
 works. They are obtained wholly from experience. 
 They come into the mind as the results, the effects, 
 produced through the means of sensation. These ideas, 
 coming from and given through sensation, are again 
 the objects of the operations of the Mind, which, as 
 an independent and active agent, unites and combines 
 
 3 
 

 THE CONCEPT PURPOSE 
 
 these ideas from sensation, and hence there comes to 
 be a second class of ideas — the ideas from Reflection. 
 Knowledge arises from both these sources, which to- 
 gether form experience. Hence all our knowledge is 
 about ideas, and ideas only are known by the mind. 
 
 But this position, inasmuch as it does not cover all the 
 facts, is unsatisfactory. In that reflection is an active 
 process of the mind, acting upon the ideas of perception 
 and producing other ideas; the ideas show evidences of 
 an activity of the mind which has not yet been taken 
 into consideration. The activity of the mind is a fun- 
 damental thought with Kant. The problem between 
 Nominalism and Conceptualism does not exist for him. 
 The mind cannot think perceptions directly, imme- 
 diately. No sooner are percepts received than they are 
 classed under concepts, and must be thought through 
 concepts. But the mind can think concepts directly, 
 without the intervention of any further idea. The 
 reason transforms and synthesizes ideas, in accordance 
 with the forms and categories, because it is the very 
 nature and constitution of the mind to do this very 
 thing. An a priori philosophy goes beyond the given, 
 and transcends experience. 
 
 There is no possibility of an idea that is purely in- 
 tellectual, and has no other aspect. Every idea is as 
 much a volitional process, or rather gives evidence of 
 a distinct volitional activity, as it is an intellectual 
 datum. As the volitional character and the intellectual 
 character are both to be found displayed in ideas, we 
 know them to be purposive, id est, they express or give 
 evidence of a purpose. This is embodied in, or ex- 
 pressed by, the idea and is a principle characteristic of 
 
 4 
 
PURPOSE AND VOLITIONAL ACTIVITY 
 
 an idea. It is in the ideas we find evidences of pur- 
 poses which have been acting upon them or through 
 them, altering their character, making of diverse ideas 
 homogeneous units, and giving them the character of 
 purposive ideas. Purposes are not the product of 
 ideas, neither are ideas the product of pui-poses. But 
 the sources of the purposes must be sought not in pre- 
 cepts or concepts, but by reference to the Will. 
 
 This attitude is opposed to that of Royce, when he 
 says, " Ideas first voluntarily bind themselves to a 
 given task — the internal purpose is selective — the idea 
 learns to develop its internal meaning so as to assign 
 to itself a specific purpose — the idea selects its object 
 — the idea is selective. It seeks its own. It attends 
 as itself has chosen. It desires in its own way — the 
 idea's own conscious purpose or will,"^ et al. This 
 seems to mean that each idea possesses all the charac- 
 teristics and powers of a complete and separate human 
 mind, possessing the ability to choose, will, plan and 
 execute. Such ideas are hypostasized. 
 
 " The will is a kind of causality belonging to living 
 beings, in so far as they are rational," says Kant.^ If 
 a will acted without regard to an intellect, it would be 
 blind. But in all our experience, we can never find 
 evidence of a blind, an abstract will. "Tendency is 
 only the empty form of the will . . . and as every 
 empty form is only an abstraction, voHtion is ex- 
 istential or actual only in its relation to the repre- 
 sentation of a present or future state. No one can 
 really will purely and simply, without willing this or 
 
 ^ Royce : The World and the Individual. 
 ^ Kant : Practical Reason. 
 
 5 
 
THE CONCEPT PURPOSE 
 
 that. A will that does not will something is nothing. 
 It is only by the determination of its content that the 
 will acquires the possibility of existence, and this con- 
 tent is representation. Thus, then, there is no will 
 without representation, as Aristotle had said before: 
 opeKTiKov Se ovK avev (f)aPTa(Tia<s (De An. Ill, 30). '^ 
 What we know is always and only an intelligent will, 
 acting pui'posively. It is not independent of all in- 
 fluence. It can be trained and developed, or it can be 
 debased and weakened. It increases in power by its 
 activity, and decreases by failure to exert its power. 
 It can be guided by ideas — that is, by whatever ideas 
 it itself chooses, first to attend to and admit into con- 
 sideration, then to permit to exeii; an influence upon its 
 own autonomy, its own self-determination, and thus 
 ideas do in a sense determine the will. V The voluntary 
 com'se of action pursued by one man diff*ers from that 
 of another as greatly as the ideas of one man difl'er 
 from those of another. But yet, while the intellect and 
 the will may influence each other, and may be very 
 closely united in a single consciousness, it is the will 
 that determines the course of action. One is able to 
 select by an act of will upon what he will fix his atten- 
 tion, what ideas he will entertain. "We do not indeed 
 say, our will causes our ideas," though it selects among 
 them, "but we do say, our ideas now (imperfectly) em- 
 body our will."^ The will gives the character of pur- 
 posiveness, the ability to reveal the purposes which they 
 embody. The purpose as thus revealed, is not itself 
 active and causal. It defines or determines; but for 
 
 ^ Hartmann : Philosophic des Unbewussten. 
 2 Royce : The World and the Individual. 
 
 6 
 
PURPOSE AND VOLITIONAL ACTIVITY 
 
 the explanation, it is necessary to refer to the will 
 itself as the cause. 
 
 The philosophy of Fichte may be very far from a 
 complete and all-embracing system of metaphysics, and 
 especially in the more minute ramifications of the de- 
 duction, may be far from finding its verification in ex- 
 perience. But the " Wissenschaftslehre " may be con- 
 sidered as an analysis of consciousness with respect to 
 the point of departure which Fichte adopts. In search- 
 ing for the first fundamental principle, recourse must 
 be had at once to experience. In every perception, 
 there are present both intelHgence and its object. 
 There can be no subject without an object, nor an ob- 
 ject without a subject. The empirical basis must be 
 assumed, taken for granted, posited, in order that there 
 may be any starting-place at all. This, then, being 
 given and granted, abstraction leads us from the em- 
 pirical facts of consciousness to that which cannot be 
 an object of thought in experience, but which is the 
 very ground of the possibility of thought. From a 
 proposition universally true of consciousness, we are 
 led to that in which the relation between the terms and 
 the terms themselves exists, and which is conscious of 
 them, the Ego, which really exists, and which is present 
 in every possible fact of consciousness, as the unifying 
 and relating principle. Above all things, this Ego is 
 active; for to relate is an activity, and thinking is active 
 and free. 
 
 In his life, Fichte had had abundant opportunity 
 to test the power of his will, and he had come to rely 
 upon it to such an extent, that he made it the supreme 
 principle, to which all else should be subordinated. He 
 
 7 
 
THE CONCEPT PURPOSE 
 
 has emphasized this aspect of consciousness, that the 
 will is causal. 
 
 In order to discover wherein willing lies, we must 
 ask each one to examine and analyze his own conscious 
 experience. No definitions will make the activities of 
 the will plainer, for they are common to all conscious- 
 nesses. Yet they cannot be found as pure activities, 
 but in their very nature as voluntary, distinguished 
 from involuntary reflexes, are always found in relation 
 to ideas. Willing is found in acting and doing, enter- 
 ing the whole mental life in a far from simple man- 
 ner. " The point to which the will is applied is always 
 an idea.'" We discover this activity in our use of ideas, 
 or in our realization of ideas in their final fulfilment, 
 or satisfaction by union with their " other." 
 
 " What we will is dependent upon what we think."^ 
 The point of focus for willing is the idea. We can 
 conceive of no willing without some form of ideation 
 present, and these ideas must be presented in conscious- 
 ness, through perception, experience. "And what we 
 think is subordinated to a comprehensive and steadfast 
 will."^ Munsterberg's position,^ that there is a priority 
 of the idea to the volitional activity, would seem to be 
 true, if we illustrate it in this manner: Prenatal move- 
 ment is not volitional, but instinctive. At birth, the 
 sense-impressions of light, etc., rapidly give rise to 
 many percepts, which are almost at once combined into 
 concepts. Because of the ideas thus arising, there is, 
 
 ^ James : Psychology, B. C, Chapter XXIII. 
 ^ Ibid. 
 
 3 Ladd : Outlines of Descriptive Psychology, Chapter XVII. 
 * Grundziige der Psychologie. 
 
 8 
 
PURPOSE AND VOLITIONAL ACTIVITY 
 
 first, reflexive movement, to answer the stimuli, but 
 soon there is also, on the basis of ideas thus obtained 
 the development of volitional activity; and movement 
 is excited not only as a reflex, but also as the effect 
 of desire, of definite volition. The will is already at 
 work almost as soon as there are ideas, and then pur- 
 poses are formed and executed. And Berkeley says, 
 "A Spirit (Mind) is one simple, undivided, active be- 
 ing ... as it perceives ideas it is called the un- 
 derstanding, and as it produces or otherwise operates 
 about them it is called the Wifl." " I find I can excite 
 ideas in my mind at pleasure, and vary and shift the 
 scene as often as I think fit. It is no more than wiU- 
 ing, and straightway this or that idea arises in my 
 fancy; and by the same power it is obliterated and 
 makes way for another. This making and unmaking 
 of ideas doth very properly denominate the mind active. 
 Thus much is certain and grounded on experience ; but 
 when we talk of unthinking agents, or of exciting 
 ideas exclusive of Volition, we only amuse ourselves with 
 words." " The ideas actually perceived by Sense have 
 not a like dependence on my will."^ But I can open 
 my eyes to receive them or not, as I choose. I can ap- 
 propriate or exclude the ideas from sensation. And 
 this fact, in experience gives evidence of the vohtional 
 activity. 
 
 The will, then, is causal, and can initiate a new 
 causal series. Whether we look for the cause in a boat 
 or a book, we return to a primary volitional element. 
 The lumber is sawn and bent by the strength of a man 
 whose every move is determined by his causal will, or 
 
 1 Berkeley : Principles, §§ 27, 28, and 29. 
 
 9 
 
THE CONCEPT PURPOSE 
 
 the argument of the book follows a course which has 
 been previously determined upon by a will. The pur- 
 pose involved in either case is the result of the action 
 of the will choosing among the various ideas. The will 
 has thus foraiulated and embodied a purpose, and has 
 unified the ideas in this purpose and made them serve 
 the end which it has chosen as its goal. It is by our 
 own volition that we express our ideas in acts, and we 
 say, " I act, or I will. I am determined only by the 
 ideas which I have often before chosen as my guides. 
 I am responsible for my actions."^ Thus the Ego, as 
 an originating activity, is a cause, an initiating or first 
 cause, of which the effects are both mental and physi- 
 cal. I choose, and there results in the world a new 
 causal series which changes not only the course of my 
 own life, but the whole course of the world subse- 
 quently. When a crime is committed, not only does 
 each one demand, "Who did this? " but society at large 
 requires an answer, and places the responsibility upon 
 the criminal. It is the result of an act of will, and 
 an act implies an agent. The civil law holds the crim- 
 inal, and judges him as alone responsible for the act 
 which has altered the smooth-flowing course of the river, 
 and detrimentally changed the facts and originated a 
 new causal series. The historical variations from this 
 rule are to be accounted for on the same basis. That 
 the Greeks solemnly tried and condemned to exile the 
 knife with which a murder was committed was due to 
 the fact that the Greeks had a strong tendency to per- 
 sonify inanimate objects; and as persons they were re- 
 sponsible agents. 
 
 *Ladd : Outlines of Descriptive Psychology, Chapter XVII. 
 
 10 
 
PURPOSE AND VOLITIONAL ACTIVITY 
 
 It is immediately in the causal activity of the will 
 that we define oiu* examples of purpose first displayed. 
 Whenever we define a problem or isolate any question 
 for the purpose of inquiry, when we judge of what is 
 necessary for the solution of any problem, we imme- 
 diately find that it is through the use of the concept 
 purpose as a determining factor. In all our thinking 
 we find it manifested. We can control our course of 
 thinking. We select our ideas. With every conscious 
 movement we have interposed between the desire to 
 move and the idea, and the movement accomplished, an 
 act of willing which is unique. 
 
 As our percepts become in time generalized under 
 concepts, so on the basis of our ideas, voluntarily chosen, 
 we erect what we call ideals. These ideals we set be- 
 fore our minds as goals. They are to be realized, and 
 this calls for conscious, voluntary action. In this way 
 the will places before the mind an ideal which is yet to 
 be fulfilled, and it purposes a fulfilment in the end, the 
 reahty. Hence we may define an ideal as the expres- 
 sion of a purpose as presented before the mind, and a 
 real thing is the concrete result, fulfilment, satisfaction, 
 embodiment of the ideal in the outer world. It de- 
 pends on the character of the ideal whether the object is 
 a partial and incomplete or a whole and complete real- 
 ization of the ideal. Both the ideal and the real give 
 evidence of the presence of both elements of the mind 
 — the intellectual and the volitional. But while it is 
 true that the mind can be the som-ce of many new 
 causal series, it is also true that free will is not exer- 
 cised at the expense of the laws of nature, and cannot 
 change the essential conditions of the actual combina- 
 
 11 
 
THE CONCEPT PURPOSE 
 
 tion; it only shows itself in the very sphere of these 
 conditions. It uses the limits set to its activity by the 
 laws and the constitution of nature as the steps, the 
 means by which it works its own effects. To go 
 against these is ruin. Fire may warm or it may de- 
 stroy. Men can use fire in their mechanical arts, but 
 they cannot stay the burning of a forest. 
 
 In the highest forms of volition we notice, first, a 
 choice of ends and the fixing of one before the mind, 
 with more or less clearness and persistence. Then the 
 desire for its accomplishment must oust and defeat other 
 conflicting desires. The selection of the means to be 
 used in the accomplishment of the end requires their 
 deliberation, and a comparative weighing of values. 
 Choice of ideas, of means, is itself of a voluntary char- 
 acter. Then deliberation is cut short by the " fiat of 
 the will," and the choice is made. The executive voli- 
 tion, the will to act, leads directly to the carrying out 
 of the purpose. The fact that I have decided, that I 
 have chosen, is an ultimate fact of experience. 
 
 After this the execution may be more or less auto- 
 matic and involuntary. But even so, it must at least 
 be referred to previous will-acts. A man may dress au- 
 tomatically, but the child has difficulty in learning how 
 to dress. The pianist has learned through many sep- 
 arate acts of the will how to control his fingers. His 
 accustomed control shows a high form of developed 
 will-activity. This is not automatic and involuntary 
 in its origin, at least. The resistance of the fingers is 
 brought under the will-control so thoroughly that the 
 action of the will is directly carried into execution, with- 
 out the need of overcoming an inhibition or a physical 
 
 12 
 
PURPOSE AND VOLITIONAL ACTIVITY 
 
 stiffness, and so the response, because it is easier, is 
 called automatic. Again, " the case of the old curate, 
 who had become insane and who used to recite with the 
 utmost eloquence the exordium of Father Bribaine " in 
 a most impressive manner, although he was insane even 
 to entire imbecility, is still an example of purpose, al- 
 though it is not to be referred to present, but to past 
 acts or habits of wilHng. The conscious and pur- 
 posive action by volition was there once, although now 
 only the effect may remain. 
 
 All volitions and choices are more or less purpose- 
 ful actions. A purpose embraces both means and end. 
 A purpose cannot exist apart from or independent of 
 a will, to which it may be referred as an effect to a 
 cause. Its chief characteristic is that the will is fixed 
 steadily upon the end as the plan is executed, and con- 
 trols every step of the progression. The degree of 
 success is dependent upon the degree of this fixity. 
 When applied to an ideal of life or character, which 
 appears unitary owing to conscious planning, then a 
 man is called " far-sighted." It is " the man of one 
 idea," who centres his hfe in one purpose, that gains 
 the highest degree of volitional power. In the con- 
 struction of ideals we may set before ourselves ideals 
 that not only have never been realized, but which may 
 never be attainable. 
 
 " The will is the source, the origin of ideals, and also 
 of their realization."^ In the pursuit of such ideals, 
 there is an interesting inhibitive volition that is no less 
 a result of purposiveness than is activity, and that is, 
 the suppression of all that may tend to interfere with 
 
 ^ Dewey : Psychology, Chapter XVIII. 
 13 
 
THE CONCEPT PURPOSE 
 
 the execution of the purpose and the attainment of the 
 ideal end. This is the development of the will — in 
 self-control, the checking of the causal activity of the 
 will, by the very act of the will itself, by which the 
 power to will is increased, and the ability to maintain 
 the ideal before the mind by voluntary activity is 
 strengthened. The only really efficacious cause that 
 we can know is our own volitional activity. The only 
 purposes that are immediately perceptible to us, are 
 our own purposes, formed ideally at first in our minds, 
 and later actively carried into effect. We know the 
 active force of our own wills. We know the ideal, the 
 end, or the plan according to which we act, and that 
 the formation of the plan is our own act. This much 
 is given us in our own immediate experience — and no 
 more. 
 
 14 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 DEFINITION 
 
 I SIT in the window, looking out over the Sound. 
 I have seen and sailed many boats, and I desire to 
 have a boat, and to join the fleet yonder. I get a piece 
 of paper and a pencil, and I lay down the lines of a 
 vessel, and make specifications for the lumber. Then 
 I send for the materials with which to work. Putting 
 aside all other work and pleasure, I put into effect the 
 plan I have conceived and laid out on paper. I have 
 chosen the end — the boat, now an ideal, but soon to 
 be a real thing — and I have selected the means for its 
 fulfilment. In my work I find that many of the means 
 that I have selected must be abandoned and new devices 
 substituted; yet the end I keep steadfastly before my 
 mind. Gradually the work nears completion. The 
 effect of days of labor is to be seen. The finishing 
 touches assume an exaggerated magnitude. And at 
 last she is finished and launched, and the desire and 
 the ideas, previously gained from experience, upon 
 the basis of which the will acted in forming first the 
 plan in the mind and on paper, and later carried them 
 into effect, are satisfied, and there is a completed pur- 
 pose, which in its fulfilment is a Reality. 
 
 By an analysis of this illustration, which we may 
 make to stand as typical of all om- purposes, we may 
 form a definition of what a Purpose is. There are 
 
 15 
 
THE CONCEPT PURPOSE 
 
 many parts, means, end, miited in one, hence the whole 
 is an organism, organum. The formation of a plan 
 or purpose in the mind involves the action of the will. 
 And then this plan, sustained by the will before the 
 mind determines what future volitions are to be in 
 order to carry out this plan. " Volition is regulated, 
 harmonized impulse. It involves a double process: 
 first, the various impulses must be coordinated with 
 each other; secondly, they must all be brought into 
 harmonious relations with an end, must be subordi- 
 nated to one principle,"^ and must form an organum. 
 Consequently, there is a neccessary connection between 
 each of the elements and all the others. This is not a 
 causal connection. One means does not cause another, 
 nor do any or all of the means cause the end. And 
 certainly the end is not a cause of the means. It 
 cannot be a " causa sui " to cause itself, and so self- 
 explanatory. Even the ideal representation of the end 
 does not cause either the means or the real end. 
 Neither the plan nor the purpose is in any stage causal. 
 It is not a " causa -finalisr A final cause is used to ex- 
 plain. Purpose is not an explanatory concept. It 
 only defines, as is the case with the other philosophical 
 concepts. It is the will-activity that initiates a new 
 causal series. Here is the great confusion of Janet's 
 " Finales Causes," that it does not distinguish between 
 a Purpose and a final cause. 
 
 Again: Both in the ideal representation of a pur- 
 pose before the consciousness, and in the concrete ex- 
 ternal realization afterwards attained, there is an iden- 
 tity between each means and the end. Thus the end 
 
 ^ Dewey : Psychology. 
 
 16 
 
DEFINITION 
 
 may be considered the siun of all the means which have 
 been used to bring it about. " These means, how- 
 ever, are not intrinsically distinct from the end. They 
 are only proximate ends ; they are the end analyzed into 
 its constituent factors. For example, the end of voli- 
 tion is the construction of a house. The means are the 
 plans, the brick and mortar, the arrangement of these 
 by the workmen, etc. It is evident that the end is not 
 something intrinsically different from the means; it is 
 the means taken as a harmoniously manifested whole. 
 The means, on the other hand, are something more than 
 precedents to an end. The first means, the plans, are 
 only the end in its simplest, most elementary form, and 
 the next means are an expansion of this, while the final 
 means are identical with the end. " When we look at 
 the act as a realized whole, we call it end; when we 
 look at it in process of realization, partially made out, 
 we call it means. But the action of the intellect is 
 requisite to analyze the end, the whole, into its means, 
 the component factors."^ If any means were not iden- 
 tical with the end, it would be immediately dropped 
 out of consciousness as useless. 
 
 As the means become realized, there is an accumula- 
 tion of effects, a cumulative aspect. Time is required, 
 first, to form the purpose in the mind and to select the 
 means, then to carry out the purpose and bring it to 
 a realization. The purpose must be worked out in 
 time. From start to finish the purpose-forming proc- 
 ess is carried on in this continuum. The whole is pres- 
 ent continuously in consciousness. *' Volition," which 
 forms the purpose in accordance with the ideas present 
 ^ Dewey : Psychology, Chapter XVIII. 
 
 17 
 
THE CONCEPT PURPOSE 
 
 in consciousness, " is impulse consciously directed tow- 
 ards the attainment of a recognized end . . . which 
 is felt as desirable."^ Throughout the whole there is 
 a feeling of the value of the end — that it was worth 
 while to go through the labor and privations necessary 
 to attain the end. " A volition or act of will involves, 
 therefore, over and above the impulse, knowledge and 
 feeling. There must be knowledge of the end of ac- 
 tion. There must be knowledge of the relations of 
 this end to the means by which it is to be attained; and 
 this end must awaken a pleasurable or painful feeling 
 in the mind. It must possess an interesting quality, 
 or be felt to be in immediate subjective relation to the 
 self. The impulses furnish the moving force by which 
 the end whose quality is recognized, and whose necessity 
 for the happiness of self is felt, is actually brought 
 about. It is the energy which furnishes its actual ac- 
 complishment, directed along the channels laid down 
 by the intellect for the satisfaction of feeling."^ Even 
 the feeling of curiosity may be an incentive to the 
 mind to exert a purposive activity. In fact, the Feel- 
 ings play a very great part in the formation and execu- 
 tion of purposes, and are in no wise to be left out of 
 account. This is easily seen in the fine arts, where the 
 aesthetic feelings play so important a part. Purpose, 
 then, may be used in two senses — when it refers to a 
 peculiar characteristic of an ideal which it is desired 
 to put into execution, when it means " plan," plus the 
 striving or desire to make the ideal real, or to a peculiar 
 characteristic exhibited by and inlierent in the real ac- 
 
 ^ Dewey : Psychology, Chapter XVIII. 
 » Ibid. 
 
 18 
 
DEFINITION 
 
 complishment of the ideal in the completed fact. Then 
 the fact is said to be purposive. The boat gives evi- 
 dence of purpose, i.e., (as purpose refers to a conscious- 
 ness), not only of the activity of physical causes, but 
 also of the use of these physical causes (which might 
 explain, but could not fully define, the existence of the 
 boat), by an active mind. 
 
 In our definition, we have used a number of other 
 concepts which are wrapped up and involved inextri- 
 cably with the concept purpose. Among them, the 
 most noticeable are these: 
 
 The Individual. The active agent, the planks, the 
 tools, the various means employed, the end realized, the 
 boat, are each and all individuals, and are as such to 
 be defined. 
 
 The Continuum. The plan is formed in the con- 
 tinuum consciousness and executed in time ahd space 
 continua. 
 
 Potentiality. The plan must be feasible, possible, 
 else it would not be formed. If a device is found im- 
 possible, it is exchanged for a plan that can come within 
 the concept of potentiality. 
 
 Chance. As we discuss this concept later, we 
 merely mention it here. 
 
 19 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 THE PURPOSES OF MEN 
 
 We have now seen what sort of a thing purpose 
 is in the immediate consciousness, in the Ego, in me. 
 How can I extend the concept to a wider sphere? I 
 have immediate experience of it in my own conscious- 
 ness, and I reason from the causal will and my ideas, 
 to the plan and its execution in the purpose, showing 
 volitional activity. How do I know of others' pur- 
 poses? 
 
 The only inunediate object presented to us is our- 
 selves, — our own minds, as they receive passively, or 
 as they are active or efficacious. We know only a 
 single individual. We cannot proceed as anatomists, 
 and draw our conclusions from having dissected a great 
 number of individuals from the species we are study- 
 ing. But we can study only the one single individual, 
 and from the conclusions thus derived, we must reason 
 concerning other individuals of the same sort. We 
 can do no more than " judge others by ourselves," and 
 " ab uno disce omnes." But this is sufficient. Al- 
 though other men differ very greatly as being different 
 individuals, not precisely like ourselves, yet we may and 
 we must conclude from the likeness of qualities that 
 we see to the likeness of qualities that are hidden. 
 " Such is the nature of Spirit, or that which acts, that 
 it cannot be of itself perceived, but only by the effects 
 
 20 
 
THE PURPOSES OF MEN 
 
 which it produceth."^ This process is an induction, 
 based on analogical reasoning. We believe in the in- 
 telligence of our fellow-men, but that belief is so deep- 
 seated in our own minds that it amounts to certitude. 
 We are as certain here as we are of anything that is 
 given us, either in sensation or reflection. Indeed, so 
 far as I know, no man has ever questioned the intelli- 
 gence of other men. The greatest doubters have held 
 this belief very strongly, as is shown by the fact that 
 they have published their books for the perusal of 
 others. The method we have adopted for our proce- 
 dure is justified on this ground, because in one sense it 
 is the " only possible " way. In whatever we do, in 
 M^hatever we think, there is always the " personal ele- 
 ment." We can never work otherwise. There is al- 
 ways present the Subjective Ego, with all its peculiar 
 characteristics, desires, choices, preferences; and it col- 
 ors the whole work of every man. There is not a 
 philosopher who has not put upon his work the stamp 
 of his own character, mirrored his own face in it, 
 and thereby missed the "necessarily and universally 
 vahd " philosophy that will serve as well for one man 
 as for another. There has never been an independent 
 and absolute system made by man. Whatever is uni- 
 versally valid finds its ground in the source to which 
 the very nature and constitution of man himself must 
 be referred. The reason why we make this induction 
 — that other men have minds like our own — is because 
 we see in their actions and words evidences of that same 
 activity of the will, planning and executing, as we dis- 
 cover or experience in our own. Our experience of 
 
 ^ Berkeley: Principles, § 27. 
 21 
 
THE CONCEPT PURPOSE 
 
 other men leads us to see purpose " in their actions." 
 These actions we refer to the causal activity of a pur- 
 posive will like our own. 
 
 Let us take our former illustration of the boat. 
 But we shall find it necessary to turn it around, end 
 for end. We see the boat-builder engaged over his 
 work, selecting the proper tools, cutting, choosing and 
 trimming the timbers, making fast the frames, form- 
 ing the hull of a boat. We never for a moment 
 imagine that here there is at work a blind necessity, or 
 that the work is a result of accident. Here are effects 
 giving evidence that all through the work there is lim- 
 ning the characteristic of purposiveness, that the builder 
 is realizing a purpose which he has in his mind, and 
 that this purpose involves, as its ground, necessarily, a 
 will and a mind. It is because of the element of Pur- 
 pose that we can thus reason, and can thus affirm the 
 intelligence of other men as an indisputably certain 
 truth. We perform the same process of reasoning if, 
 night after night, when the builder is gone home, we 
 drop into the shop, and see the boat nearing completion, 
 the purpose gradually reaching its fulfilment in reahty. 
 Although we do not see the workman or the perform- 
 ance of the work, we yet know that he who does this 
 thing is an intelligent, willing, planning, purpose- 
 forming man. The work, too, has all the character- 
 istics of Purpose, — of any one of our own purposive 
 acts. We see here the union of interdependent parts, 
 working themselves out toward a completion in time, 
 each means dependent on all the other means, the 
 planking on the frames, and the frames on the back- 
 bone, and we see these means all adapted for and iden- 
 
 22 
 
THE PURPOSES OF MEN 
 
 tical with the end. We see the necessary connection 
 involved between the parts. We see the cumulative 
 growth toward completion, the finished boat, and we 
 feel the value of the end, that it will fulfil its function 
 and realize the purpose. This gradual, regular, or- 
 dered growth indicates that it is the realization of an 
 ideal, that back of it all lies the ideal, the plan, toward 
 which the work is progressing. We can explain every 
 step by means of mechanical laws, every movement by 
 gravity, resistance, force, etc.; but all would be mean- 
 ingless were it not that in the whole we saw the activ- 
 ity of a wilHng agent, i.e., that the plan and the pur- 
 pose which we see in the work were present before a 
 consciousness. This alone gives a meaning to the work. 
 We can explain (after a fashion) by the mechanical 
 causes, but we need more. We need, in order to de- 
 fine, the concept of Purpose, and the presence thereby 
 involved of a consciousness other than our own. To 
 quote again from Berkeley: "From the effects I see 
 produced, I conclude there are actions; and because ac- 
 tions, voHtions, and because there are volitions, there 
 must be a will. . . . But will and understanding 
 constitute in the strictest sense a mind or spirit."^ 
 " We cannot know the existence of other spirits " (men) . 
 The motions of their bodies are perceptible. Their 
 conscious life or personality is necessarily invisible. 
 " We cannot know the existence of other spirits, other- 
 wise than by their operations or the ideas by them 
 excited in us." These " inform me there are cer- 
 tain particular agents, like myself, which accompany 
 them and concur in their production. Hence the knowl- 
 
 ^ Berkeley : Third Dialogue between Hylas and Philonous. 
 
 23 
 
THE CONCEPT PURPOSE 
 
 edge I have of other spirits is not immediate, as is the 
 knowledge of my ideas; but depending on the inter- 
 vention of our ideas (or acts) by me referred to agents 
 or spirits distinct from myself, as effects or concomitant 
 signs. "^ This is a pure inference. We have percep- 
 tion in our minds. We can infer that there are per- 
 ceptions which are in other minds. We can infer minds, 
 or minds plus perceptions, but never perceptions or ex- 
 periences alone, apart from a mind. But having made 
 the induction from what we can observe to what we 
 must conclude to be the ground for our observations, 
 we determine that other men can will and can purpose. 
 And this conclusion gives interest and meaning to all 
 their work. 
 
 To what an extent does the Concept of Purpose 
 enter into the history of men and their actions? It 
 gives content to history and lends interest to the lives 
 of other men and to their deeds. It is the men of ac- 
 tivity, of volitional energy, of strong pm-posiveness, 
 who have moulded the lives of nations. And even in 
 a much humbler sense, in the Drama, the concept Pur- 
 pose is seen to be the one essential, the very point of 
 focus. The history of dramatic activity shows that the 
 energy has been greatest in the writing of plays just 
 after times of struggle. France and Germany give 
 the best examples. The life of the drama is in strug- 
 gle, the clash of will against will, in the formation and 
 execution of a Purpose that is all-absorbing. The in- 
 terest of a drama lies in the plot. 
 
 ^Berkeley: Principles, § 145. 
 
 24 
 
PART II 
 
 THE COSMOLOGICAL 
 APPLICATION 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 ON METHOD 
 
 We have found Purpose manifested in oiu- own 
 personal and voluntary experience. We have also es- 
 tablished its existence in other men. We shall now 
 continue by descending the scale of life, seeking evi- 
 dences of purposiveness in the lower orders. As we 
 descend, we shall find the evidences of individual pur- 
 posiveness gradually decreasing and the evidences for 
 a mechanical explanation gradually increasing, until we 
 find ourselves involved in the " riddle of the universe." 
 We should, I thoroughly believe, remain entangled in 
 this mesh, if we contented ourselves with this procedure 
 alone — that is, the descent of the scale — and did not 
 seek the evidences of purposiveness, as referring to and 
 emanating from a higher source. We must also ascend 
 again to a higher plane, even superior to the purposes 
 of man, seeking the ground and source, the intelligent 
 and willing mind, to which the purposes which we dis- 
 cover can and must be referred, if we are to escape 
 from this " riddle of the universe," and have a philo- 
 sophical system that is logical and explicable. 
 
 Our statements with regard to man's will regard it 
 as free. If it were not, we could not look to man for 
 the formation and execution of plans and the realiza- 
 tion of ideals, but would be compelled to look elsewhere 
 for a definition and an explanation of Purpose, or to 
 
 27 
 
THE CONCEPT PURPOSE 
 
 deny its existence altogether. But man, capable as he 
 is, is not absolutely free to will and to perform whatever 
 his imagination may conceive. He is not omnipotent. 
 He is bound and conditioned in many ways. He can- 
 not choose what ideas he is to receive through sensation 
 and experience. He meets life as it comes to him, and 
 must make the best of it. He must act in accord- 
 ance with the laws of nature, which are set as bounds, 
 against which he may struggle in vain, only to be over- 
 thrown at the last. But these same bounds he can use, 
 and he does use them in carrying out his purposes. In 
 his boat-building he works in accordance with the laws 
 of gravity and resistance, with the mechanical laws, and 
 with the natural properties of the materials with which 
 he works. He acts beyond himself on nature and on 
 bodies, and brings into the universe new and imending 
 causal series. Things that would otherwise obey the 
 laws of nature he turns into new courses. He hews 
 down the trees and cuts them to his patterns, and works 
 them into his boat, all compatible with the laws of 
 gravity and mechanics, and yet in every instance pre- 
 determined by the mind. And yet he must always act 
 imder and in agreement with this higher law which is 
 over him and limits him. So we have not begim at 
 the top. We must go higher as well as deeper. We 
 must determine what this other something is. For as 
 we descend the scale we find that the purposiveness of 
 the individuals which we may consider is steadily de- 
 creasing. There is less and less intelligence, less voli- 
 tional activity, less self-determination, less purposive- 
 ness that is merely personal and to be referred to the 
 individual in question — id est, internal. 
 
 28 
 
ON METHOD 
 
 It is not now generally thought that there are such 
 great gaps and leaps in nature as Descartes' paradox 
 of animal machines and Kant's animal automata seem 
 to imply. The beasts have not the capacity to reason 
 and to execute plans that man has — the trees are not 
 able to cope with the beasts, and a stone is unchanged 
 by any growth, life or activity within it. Each is pow- 
 erless before the activity of the higher order, and the 
 stone is entirely under the dominion of laws and pur- 
 poses which are wholly outside of its own individual 
 self, and which must consequently be referred to some- 
 thing entirely other and different from itself. And at 
 the same time there is, as we descend the scale, the stead- 
 ily increasing evidences of something acting purpos- 
 ively, which supplies the evidences of purposes in a 
 no less striking way than they appear in man's activity. 
 Man has a will of his own, and can act independently 
 of all else within the limits of his own possibilities. 
 The stone has no self-determination. In man, pur- 
 poses are first to be referred to his own free will. In 
 the stone, the evidences of purposiveness are to be 
 referred at once and directly to something else outside 
 itself — to Nature, that wore it to a smooth pebble; to 
 the man, who fitted it into the wall of the building ; and 
 in the end we shall find ourselves obliged to refer both 
 the man and the stone, because they are both condi- 
 tioned, limited, finite, to a higher and more powerful 
 and intelligent purposive mind, to whom they are both 
 materials and means. 
 
 29 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 THE PURPOSES OF BEASTS 
 
 Fro3I the likeness of one man to others, we have 
 argued by analogy from our own intelligence to intel- 
 ligence in other men. It is only by analogy that we 
 can pass from man to the beasts and argue for their 
 intelligence. We must proceed by the same method 
 — from effects to causes. 
 
 There is a close relationship between men and beasts. 
 Consequently either both are automata or both are in- 
 telligent. The former is untenable on our previous 
 ground. Is there any evidence for the latter? 
 
 There are so many actions in beasts, both domesti- 
 cated and wild (the latter are the more certain study in 
 this regard, because the domesticated beasts, by imitation 
 or by imputation, often acquire the habits and almost 
 the ideas of their masters), that are exactty like the 
 actions of men, that it is quite necessary to assign them 
 to the same sources. The tiger stalks the gazelle and 
 pounces upon it unexpectedly. The hunter trails the 
 tiger and slays it unsuspecting. The bear or the squir- 
 rel, when trapped, after recovering from frantic and 
 futile attempts at escape, sits down to think over its 
 situation, and, trying first one method and then an- 
 other, at last learns the secret of the trap and regains 
 its liberty. Having once learned this way of escape, 
 it tries it first when again trapped. There is, too, a great 
 
 30 
 
THE PURPOSES OF BEASTS 
 
 difference in various beasts in this regard. Some are 
 stupid and slow of wit. Others are bright, and their 
 cunning shows a greater degree of intelHgence. The 
 beast desires water or to cross a river, and goes about 
 the fulfilment of its purpose as deliberately and with 
 as great evidence of a well-formed plan as does a man. 
 Monkeys learn to cross rivers by forming a living chain. 
 When the red squirrels, which had lately migrated into 
 the Eastern States from Canada, had propagated in 
 great numbers, they began to drive the older inhab- 
 itants, the gray squirrels, from their homes. The gray 
 squirrels, though larger, were unable to withstand the 
 fierce little red squirrels, and found it necessary to mi- 
 grate. They moved southwestward in large numbers, 
 and reached the Mississippi River. Although they can 
 swim fairly well, their strength was miequal to the great 
 breadth of the river. As they were driven from be- 
 hind, they were compelled to advance. Many met 
 death by drowning, but often it was possible to see a 
 squirrel dislodging a piece of wood from one shore, and 
 either riding upon it or clinging to it, take his chances of 
 reaching the other bank. The most remarkable thing 
 of all is the fact that the squirrels chose their place of 
 crossing, where the current was close to the eastern 
 bank, and then swung over to the other shore; and they 
 often selected a time when the wind was in the right 
 direction to help them in their passage. 
 
 Those animal characteristics that are so deeply in- 
 grained that they are called instincts, are greatly al- 
 tered or quite lost by change of locality, climate or 
 environment, because the beast learns that the previous 
 methods are no longer useful, while other needs must be 
 
 31 
 
THE CONCEPT PURPOSE 
 
 met, and the readiness and adaptability which many 
 animals show argues well for their intelligence. Who 
 is there, who has domesticated various sorts of wild 
 beasts, who does not say that they have intelligence, 
 and form and execute plans? " It is those who know 
 them best who have the firmest conviction on this 
 point." ' 
 
 To all appearance, the si)ider's web is as much a 
 purpose of the spider as the web of the weaver. The 
 squirrel makes his winter store, and man preserves his 
 fruits. The beavers build houses and man builds 
 homes. Do not the beasts foresee and display purpos- 
 iveness as well as man? When they meet unusual or 
 prohibitive conditions, do they not show great intelli- 
 gence in circumventing them, in finding some new de- 
 vice never before tried, to bring about the same re- 
 sults, to fulfil the same purposes, or others even better 
 adapted to new wants? 
 
 The beasts without doubt act in many instances with 
 purpose, and display in their acts every evidence that 
 their acts are voluntary, and result from volitions as 
 their cause, and that the end for which they are work- 
 ing is known and perceived ideally, making their ac- 
 tions and the effects of their actions purposive. 
 
 But while a great part of these actions are clearly 
 purposive, there are less data here to go by than in the 
 case of men. The relative number of acts which dis- 
 play purpose is far less, while a new type of activity 
 displays itself, which appears truly enough and unde- 
 niably in men, but is much more in evidence in the beasts 
 — instinct. In this we cannot find the beast planning, 
 
 ^ Janet : Final Causes. 
 
 32 
 
THE PURPOSES OF BEASTS 
 
 purposing, consciously and intelligently, but he is acting 
 in a different sort of way — indubitably no less pur- 
 posively; but now the purposes cannot so easily be re- 
 ferred to the conscious and voluntary activity of the 
 beast himself. This is natural, for the degree of con- 
 sciousness and vohtional power, no less than difference 
 in the matter of the reason, is marking the distinction 
 between men and beasts by which the former hold 
 their superior place in the universe. We can there- 
 fore refer the pui-poses which we may find in instinct- 
 ive actions no longer to the consciousness of the indi- 
 vidual beast — internal purposiveness — but must seek 
 another ground, another consciousness, before which the 
 purposes are, and by whose volitional activity they are, 
 carried into effect. 
 
 But before examining this subject, instinct, let us 
 look for a moment at the life of the flora. Here we 
 have, so far as we are able to determine, none of the 
 characteristics of the mind. There is life, but no con- 
 sciousness, volitional activity and purposiveness. This 
 seems to stop with the nervous system. We see some 
 characteristics that appear like inner and consciously 
 purposive and volitional actions — the long journey of 
 a young sprout under a stone toward the light, the 
 turning of a plant toward the sun, the unaccustomed 
 and painful efforts of the cultivated plants to propa- 
 gate at strange seasons when they have been thwarted 
 in their first attempt — these look almost as if intended 
 on the part of the plant. Yet it may be no more than 
 that which is a common property of all life — the "will 
 to live," or the working out of another will through 
 and in them. We cannot determine any internal pur- 
 
 a3 
 
THE CONCEPT PURPOSE 
 
 posiveness. And as we are able to discover in the ores, 
 the stones, the water, the air, no Ufe at all, we laugh 
 to scorn those imaginative philosophers who have tried 
 to establish the poetic doctrine of philozoism. If there 
 is no consciousness in a rock, there is likewise no hiter- 
 nal purposiveness, as a purpose must be present before 
 a consciousness. 
 
 Two methods of explanation have stood opposite 
 each other, mutually hostile — teleology and mechanism. 
 The former, starting from man, reasons down, apply- 
 ing analogies from a higher order to a lower. The lat- 
 ter, beginning with matter, argues by analogies to 
 higher orders, to living organisms, to rational beings 
 even, and, using physical and mechanical explanations, 
 even tries to reduce the volitional and reasoning mind 
 to the condition of a brain acting by reflexes according 
 to the laws of physics. Schopenhauer is strikingly at 
 variance with his usual and more prominent system of 
 idealism, by sudden reversions that make mind and 
 brain identical terms. 
 
 We have shown purposiveness and volitional causa- 
 tion to exist in consciousness, but we have not excluded 
 but rather included mechanical causation. In the inor- 
 ganic sphere we have for the present excluded internal 
 conscious volition. As we have brought the one down, 
 gradually decreasing and disappearing, so as we go up 
 by the other road we shall see the mechanical causation 
 more and more overcome, overruled, superseded by vo- 
 litional activity, which represents in a sense a higher 
 force. 
 
 Are we to consider that physical laws and mechan- 
 ical operations explain themselves, or are they to be 
 
 3^5 
 
THE PURPOSES OF BEASTS 
 
 considered valid only as in reference to some ulterior 
 ground? Do they exclude purposes in inorganic na- 
 ture, or can we find that in the very order and con- 
 stitution of the mechanical laws themselves there is 
 purpose ? 
 
 35 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 PURPOSE IN INORGANIC NATURE 
 
 There are comparatively few things in nature that 
 suggest in their structure direct evidences of purposive- 
 ness. It seems possible to explain most things suffi- 
 ciently without reference to this concept. But we can 
 never be sure that this is not due to our own short- 
 sightedness, to our inability to judge from lack of suffi- 
 cient data. " We find it impossible to limit anywhere 
 the conception of final purpose in its application to 
 the concrete facts of reality — anywhere, that is, in a 
 logical and principled way. The ignorance of man, 
 which is either partial or almost complete in every realm 
 of inquiry, hmits his ability to recognize the particular 
 final purposes served by the concrete facts of his experi- 
 ence. The obscurity which hangs like an impenetrable 
 cloud over the beginning and the concluding por- 
 tions of the present system of things makes it impos- 
 sible for him to demonstrate the final aim of the world's 
 course. The scale of rising ideas that tower one above 
 another until they lose themselves in the heights of 
 the loftiest sesthetical and ethical ideals that lie one 
 below another until imagination cannot longer conjec- 
 ture the ultimate foundations of reality, is too vast for 
 his intuition to discern surely or for his calculation to 
 measure precisely. But wherever man's knowledge 
 
 36 
 
PURPOSE m INORGANIC NATURE 
 
 does go, there does it find the presence indicated of 
 formative principles due to ideal ends. In other words, 
 the facts of purposiveness seem coextensive with the 
 facts of knowledge. All things and all minds in their 
 structm-e, development and relations, give token of 
 ideal ends to our cognitive faculties. And without the 
 significant influence of this category there is not a 
 thing or transaction known that is really and satisfac- 
 torily known." ^ " In the construction of a great build- 
 ing or in the carrying out of a plan of campaign, the 
 subordinates very generally work in accordance with a 
 plan not revealed to them. Their whole activity is gov- 
 erned by the relation of means and ends; but they remain 
 in ignorance, for the relation is not objectively revealed 
 until the work converges toward completion. To one 
 standing in the midst of the work, and especially in its 
 raw beginnings, or to one studying the details singly 
 and not in their relations, the end may well be missed 
 altogether. 
 
 *' From the nature of the case, we must be largely in 
 this position with regard to the purpose in nature. Our 
 own brevity makes it hard to believe in purpose when 
 it is slowly realized." ^ We find the purposes of nature 
 inscrutable, and are unable to judge as we judge con- 
 cerning the purpose manifested in the boat another 
 builds, to which we have only an exterior relation. Just 
 so a cat would regard a printing-press as a place well 
 fitted for hunting and hiding, but nothing further. 
 But if we consider purpose as a fact in nature, then we 
 are enabled to bring our thought to a systematic com- 
 
 ^ Ladd : A Theory of Reality. 
 
 ^ Bowne : Theory of Thought and Knowledge. 
 
 37 
 
THE CONCEPT PURPOSE 
 
 pleteness, and our reasonings are not doomed to end in 
 a deadlock. In this there is nothing that is " contrary 
 to the laws of reason, logic or analogy." There is no 
 reason why the law of cause and effect should not be 
 found in every set of phenomena that comes under ob- 
 servation, from stones to om' own mind. Even thinking 
 and willing have some sort of a causal inter-connection. 
 Why not find the opposite point of view true, too, that 
 purposes are to be found everywhere, that nature is 
 purposive? Why should a mechanical explanation try 
 to rout a supposed enemy when, if we are in search of 
 an explanation, we should entertam both guests under 
 the same roof as friends? The mechanical explanation, 
 carried to extreme, is absurd. It will deny the intelli- 
 gence of other men, and of one's self, and end in com- 
 plete speculative collapse. Mechanical causality ends 
 by cancelling itself through the impossibility of think- 
 ing it in infinite regress, and leaves the insoluble prob- 
 lem that is found so clearly stated in Schopenhauer's 
 " Fourfold Root of the Principle of Sufficient Rea- 
 son." Causality must originate in the first member of 
 a causal series, and arises from the concept of the Indi- 
 vidual, inasmuch as each individual is characterized by 
 its degree, and differences of degree result in Causa- 
 tion. So, instead of there being no first cause, there 
 are many first causes. And volitional causalitj^ is the 
 one fundamental, basal causality both in men's minds 
 and in the evolution of nature ; and mechanical causality 
 must be shown to be a form, an aspect, a manifestation 
 of volitional causality, and must be thus understood, if 
 our thinking is to be order and not chaos. Purpose 
 cannot be excluded from mechanical causality " miless 
 
 38 
 
PURPOSE IN INORGANIC NATURE 
 
 it be shown that the mechanism cannot be viewed as 
 founded in or directed by inteUigence." ^ 
 
 On the other hand, teleological explanation, if car- 
 ried to excess, is liable to abuse, and is at best impossible 
 of sufficient proof in the present state of our knowledge. 
 All we wish to attempt at present is to show that the 
 constitution of things would lead us to the inference 
 that there is, as the explanation and ground of the world, 
 a mind which unites intellectual and volitional (pur- 
 posive) activities in one intelligence. 
 
 It is not difficult to see the internal purposive nature 
 of organic beings, for, as individuals, they exist for 
 themselves, to fulfil their proper functions. Self-pres- 
 ervation is their first law of life. They may also have a 
 value as related to other things, but this is not necessary 
 to give them the characteristic of purposiveness. But in 
 the case of inorganic beings, we cannot discover any in- 
 terior purposiveness or volitional activity at all. Hence, 
 we must look at them as they are related to other things. 
 And we first look at them as related to living nature. 
 Instead of studying single individual objects or species 
 now, we must take nature as a whole, and treat it as 
 an organism, organum. In other words, there is " the 
 respective and reciprocal utility of one and the same 
 being for each other, and of all for the whole being." 
 And as an organism we may see evidences of purposive- 
 ness. First, let us see what indications there are for 
 all external purposiveness. We need not here expect 
 to find purposes present to the consciousnesses of the 
 various things by which and in which the purposes are 
 displayed in process of being realized, or already real- 
 
 1 Bowne : Theory of Thought and KnoA\ ledge. 
 
 39 
 
THi; CONCEPT PURPOSE 
 
 ized. Stones have no consciousness that we are able to 
 determine. And this is why we have drawn the distinc- 
 tion between internal and external purposiveness. But 
 we have defined purpose in our analysis of it as being 
 " present before a consciousness" This definition is 
 still to hold good, and the sheer force of logic compels 
 us to carry with the definition the implications involved 
 in this definition of Purpose. 
 
 Therefore, the purposes of both inorganic and or- 
 ganic nature must be referred to a thinking and willing 
 mind before the consciousness of which the purposive- 
 ness is present, and in whose plans the purposes are ad- 
 vancing toward a consummation, in reality at least, when 
 the ideal shall become the real. It is in this way that 
 the imiverse comes to have an external purposiveness. 
 
 We now find ourselves considerably at variance 
 with the position of Kant,^ who was so engrossed in 
 tracing the internal purposiveness that he sacrificed too 
 much the external purposes. Our position — the uni- 
 verse as an organum — shows internal and external pur- 
 poses to be bound up inseparably together. Each unit 
 of the great mass exists only as it depends on others, 
 yes, even all the others, for its means of support. Each 
 thing that we may mention depends upon every other 
 thing of its own class, or beneath it ; and the lower orders 
 exist not only for themselves and as the support of the 
 higher, but are often much benefited by the existence 
 of the higher forms. The flora are food for the fauna, 
 the fauna in their turn keep in restriction a too exu- 
 berant growth. The different varieties keep among 
 themselves a wonderful balance, so that one sort of beast 
 
 ^ Kant : Critique of Judgment. 
 
 40 
 
PURPOSE IN INORGANIC NATURE 
 
 does not overrun and destroy all the others. And man 
 improves the condition of both, as well as utiHzing 
 them. 
 
 We often find in this miiverse, which is arranged 
 with all the symmetry of an ordered series, that there 
 are accidents or variations that cannot be accounted for. 
 But the application of purposes need not deny the ex- 
 istence of such. The observation of such exceptions 
 seems very often to cast doubt on the whole. But a 
 moment's consideration will show why, although some 
 things in nature may at first sight appear to be fortui- 
 tous, the whole ultimately cannot be so, but is none the 
 less the embodiment of purpose. 
 
 Indeed, how do we discover, determine the laws of 
 nature? 
 
 The law with which men first concerned themselves 
 was social law, which soon crystallized into a set form 
 called civil law. How did this arise? Men observed 
 the relations that existed among them, their respective 
 rights and mutual privileges, and they generalized these 
 into social rules, which grew as they were extended to 
 a greater number into the civil law. So civil laws are 
 the generalizations of the rights and experiences of 
 many men. They represent the average of the men to 
 whom they apply, not an impractical ideal nor a low 
 standard that would induce revolt. 
 
 Do these laws apply to every case that comes under 
 their ruling? No. There is many an exception. And 
 so there is established the Court of Equity, to make 
 right that for which the law was not framed, or for cases 
 where the application of the law would be unjust and 
 the reversal of it just. And so the civil law is a gen- 
 
 41 
 
THE CONCEPT PURPOSE 
 
 eralization, a norm, a standard, to which most men de- 
 sire to conform, and which is formulated as a means by 
 which the few may be compelled to conform. 
 
 Is it otherwise with physical or natural law? Let 
 us take two instances: 
 
 According to the law of probabihty, if a coin is 
 tossed into the air, whirling, the chance that it will come 
 up heads is even with that of tails. The ratio is 1 : 1. 
 If it is flipped up a hundred times, the chances are 
 again even, and the probability is that it will come fifty 
 times heads, and fifty times tails. If a thousand, the 
 ratio is 500 : 500. Such is the law obtained by general- 
 ization. How does an experiment show it? There is 
 an approximation to this generalization, this even per- 
 centage, but there is no necessity that there should be 
 an exact conformity. Experiment might lay down 
 certain limits outside of which it has never come and 
 might never come. But there is always the chance that 
 there will not be an exact conformity to law, even when 
 running to the highest numbers. The most we can say 
 is, that there is an approximation to the law. Here is 
 a table showing an actual experiment: 
 
 too 200 500 4-00 500 600 700 flOO 900 lOOO 
 
 Tossing a hundred times a day for ten days, a thousand 
 tosses, gave heads the first time, then sank to three tails 
 in excess of the average at the end of the day. At 
 the end of the third day there were nine tails above the 
 
 42 
 
PURPOSE IN INORGANIC NATURE 
 
 average. Then began a steady rise in the number of 
 heads, till at the end of the sixth day, there were ten 
 more heads than tails. At the end of the tenth day 
 there were two more heads than tails in the thousand 
 throws. 
 
 The curve that a cannon ball will take when fired 
 at an angle of forty-five degrees, the curve of the 
 parabola, has been figured out mathematically. But ex- 
 periments show a great deal of variation from the line 
 
 mathematically determined. The ball may take a curve 
 higher than the law requires, lower, or to either side, 
 although the gun remains in exactly the same position 
 and at the same angle. 
 
 This has also been tried on a small scale, where for- 
 eign influences could be guarded against, with the same 
 results. 
 
 The same thing is true regarding a falling body. It 
 deviates from the perpendicular, which the law of grav- 
 ity requires, to some extent. Of course this is within 
 limits. The falling body does not fall sideways, at an 
 angle of ninety degrees. But the deviation is sufficient 
 to cause a variation from the strict statement of the 
 law of gravitation. These laws, based on generaliza- 
 tions, are primarily obtained by observations. The gen- 
 eralization laid down is a strict, hard and fast law. 
 
 43 
 
THE CONCEPT PURPOSE 
 
 When put to the test of experience, it is found that in 
 ahnost every case there is exception to a shght degree, 
 enough to admit other causes, new causal series, means, 
 and diverse ultimate results. In fact, this is one way 
 by which many modern philosophers introduce the con- 
 cept purpose, basing it on Chance. Because there is 
 chance there can enter purposive action, which goes to 
 some degree contrary to the laws. But this view is based 
 on the assumption that the laws are of themselves active 
 and act blindly, mechanically, unguided, and that in the 
 sphere where they are operative, there is no possibility 
 of purposiveness. It is only by " getting in by a side 
 door " that there is to be made a place for purpose. 
 
 But let us turn the picture another way. It is not 
 because of these deviations, but in spite of them, that 
 purposes are operative. The very fact that a general- 
 ization of observations can be made means that nature, 
 on the whole, acts conformably to a certain definite di- 
 rection. The laws are frequently broken or overcome. 
 The growth of a tree overcomes gravitation, the wind 
 moves a flying projectile from its path, and man is 
 constantly using one force of nature to overcome an- 
 other. The deviation from a strict conformity to law 
 permits the entrance and activity of another kind of 
 cause, i. e., that arising from an outside source, of which 
 the best example is the volitional causality. 
 
 The activity of man makes many exceptions to law. 
 He wilfully goes contrary to the moral law, and makes 
 an exception to law and a deviation in the course of 
 events. He alters events in the physical world, thereby 
 causing deviation or change in the obedience of things 
 to physical laws, as when he erects a mound of stones. 
 
 44 
 
PURPOSE IN INORGANIC NATURE 
 
 The beavers obstruct the flow of the stream, and heap 
 up a dam and a pile of water of great weight. The 
 growing tree displaces or splits a rock. All these form 
 exceptions to one or other of the physical laws. And 
 yet the whole of nature advances in its course of evo- 
 lution, fulfilling its purpose, tending toward the realiza- 
 tion of its ideal. We here find one purpose overcoming 
 the fulfillment of another, and yet the whole is carrying 
 out a purpose which unites and blends all the others. 
 Actions and reactions without end would never result 
 in a purpose were there not a consciousness to which it 
 must be referred. 
 
 Take two contiguous moments of time. Given the 
 world as it was a moment ago, the last moment of the 
 past. Suppose all to depend on chance. There is but 
 one chance that at this present moment the world will 
 be as it is now. There is but the one chance that it 
 will continue from the first to the second moment. And 
 these against a countless infinity of chances that it will 
 be otherwise. And to be otherwise means what? There 
 is but one chance that the world will continue the next 
 moment. If it does, then that means what? That 
 there are innumerable chances to one that the world 
 will not exist the next moment, that it will vanish and 
 disappear rather than continue, for to upset its laws 
 and destroy its development and reverse its evolution 
 means destruction. And there is every chance against 
 one for this. But it is the chance that we have found 
 to happen, from which we recognize the force of the 
 consciousness and of the volition by which the evolution 
 and realization of the purpose is maintained and ad- 
 vanced. We attribute an intelligence and choice to 
 
 45 
 
THE CONCEPT PURPOSE 
 
 that mind which sustains all nature in existence. The 
 purposiveness that carries forward the evolution and 
 growth of the world is the evidence of that great ideal 
 which the world is ever tending to realize. 
 
 " Facts of the sort which the theory of evolution 
 pursues cannot be known at all otherwise than in their 
 relation to some teleological conception. The meaning 
 of the entire series of facts, as actually arranged and 
 viewed in the light of the ideal ends to be secured, is 
 essential to the knowledge of the facts themselves." ^ 
 
 Let us return once more to our illustration from 
 civil law. The laws alone are dead, inactive, inefficient. 
 They have no power to purpose, although they exhibit 
 in their construction purposiveness. They imply two 
 things — a legislative as their source, and an executive 
 as the power which makes them valid and active, which 
 puts them in operation. These two things, or parts of 
 the one thing, an administrative government, are shown 
 by the very structure of the laws themselves. The laws 
 of nature are generalizations arising from the observa- 
 tion of the relations that exist among the properties of 
 the bodies of nature. These again witness in their verj^ 
 nature (first, the operation of the mind of man in 
 forming these generalizations; then, if, apart from the 
 mind of men, they have any validity, as we are forced 
 to conclude that they have) the existence back of them, 
 in and through them, of a purposive Being who is both 
 legislating power and executive force, else the laws 
 would be ineffective and no more than unexecuted plans 
 that never see the light of reality. 
 
 Thus we conclude that the world is affected by an- 
 
 ^ Ladd : A Theory of Reality. 
 46 
 
PURPOSE IN INORGANIC NATURE 
 
 other series of causes other than merely mechanical. It 
 has been mider the guidance, both outside and inside of 
 it, of a volitional and causal activity which has the power 
 of foraiing and executing purposes. And that cause is 
 intelligent, mental, voUtional. And the will-causation 
 controls and directs the mechanical causation. Thus all 
 order implies and expresses purposiveness. 
 
 And even the mechanical laws themselves — are they 
 independent, self-sufficient, self-acting machines whose 
 whole ground and explanation is to be found in them- 
 selves? Or do they also give evidences of purpose, and 
 another ulterior power behind them? Is it not a legit- 
 imate question to ask, whence come these mechanical 
 laws? What is logic and logical necessity but the laws 
 of thought, the way in which the mind thinks? Is the 
 nature of the mind due to the mind itself — to its internal 
 purposiveness; or is it due to an external purposiveness 
 of which the minds of men form but one of the more 
 important means — the purposiveness of nature, perhaps 
 — to whom the mechanical laws and the conditions un- 
 der which they act are also means? Do not law and 
 order in the universe point to a purpose to be realized 
 by these means, and this purposiveness, to a conscious- 
 ness as its ground? 
 
 Schelling says: " The peculiarity of nature rests on 
 the fact that, with all its mechanism, it is yet full of 
 purpose." Indeed, our very use of the term " Mechan- 
 ism " with reference to the laws of nature indicates that 
 we have in our minds the machines which men make 
 with purpose, and which are means by which we exe- 
 cute our purposes. 
 
 " The conception of mechanism cannot be held, even 
 
 47 
 
THE CONCEPT PURPOSE 
 
 its most meagre and outline form of statement, without 
 implying the conception of final purpose. And the 
 most elaborate and comprehensive form of the mechan- 
 ical theory — the modern scientific and all-inclusive 
 theory of evolution — does not at all dispense with, but 
 rather enhances and applies in multiform ways, the 
 ideas of teleology." " Mechanism means nothing less 
 than this: a system of individual existences which act 
 and react upon one another, according to forms and in 
 obedience to laws that are necessary to the attainment 
 of ideal ends. No such conception as a ' mechanism of 
 nature ' or a ' structure of the world ' is tenable without 
 the implicate of purposiveness. A critical metaphysics 
 has therefore no need to effect a union, or apologetically 
 to harmonize a seeming conflict between these two prin- 
 ciples. The two are in union, essentially one and the 
 same, both as noetical and as ontological principles. 
 . . . To talk of conflict here is foolishness; to at- 
 tempt reconciliation there is no need." ^ 
 
 ^ Ladd : A Theory ot Reality. 
 
 48 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 THE PURPOSE OF ORGANIC NATURE 
 
 In our former consideration of the beasts, we noticed 
 only one set of phenomena, from which we concluded 
 their intelligence and their internal purposiveness. It 
 is now necessary to consider them as related to the rest 
 of the universe, as parts of the organum and as reveal- 
 ing external purposiveness. The classifications of 
 zoology are based not on the use of parts, but on the 
 design, the purpose, of the beast. It is a division into 
 types. The instincts of animals are not the result of 
 imitation and experience. They appear not to be 
 planned by the beast. They do not indicate conscious- 
 ness of purposes. While modified by experience, they 
 do not depend on it. The actions of the newly matured 
 bee in seeking honey and returning to the hive ; the adap- 
 tation of a moth to its new Ufe, so unlike its hfe as a 
 caterpillar, and her provision for food for the children 
 she has never seen; the harvesting and storing of nuts 
 by an old squirrel who had been born and raised in cap- 
 tivity and who had never experienced a winter out of 
 doors until escape from confinement, all show these in- 
 nate capacities which are so necessary to the preserva- 
 tion of the species. If these plans that are formed and 
 purposes that are executed cannot be referred to the 
 conscious activity of the beast, they must be referred 
 to some other consciousness superior to the conditions 
 and environments in which they are placed. They de- 
 
 49 
 
THE CONCEPT PURPOSE 
 
 pend on their instincts of preservation, perpetuation, 
 and their cooperative instincts (beavers, ants, bees) for 
 the accomphshment of their functions. In all instincts 
 there is an adaptation of the beast to the satisfaction of 
 its wants. It fulfils purposes which are imposed upon 
 it from outside. It is conditioned. The beast is carry- 
 ing out plans and fulfilling its functions in the world, 
 and it must continue in that course. It cannot tran- 
 scend its limits. Both upon insentient and sentient life 
 there is imposed the mark of a purpose which is not of 
 their own making, but which they are constrained to 
 carry out. And even so with man, while he can use 
 the lower laws and profit by mechanical causation, can 
 chain the powers of water, steam and electricity and 
 adapt them to his own designs and make them execute 
 his own purposes, while — greatest of all — he can plan 
 while many other intelligent and purposeful men come 
 under his plan and often bhndly execute his purposes, 
 being thereby conditioned by his thought, yet he, too, 
 is conditioned. He is within hmits. There is a limit 
 to his power of conception and volition, and a still closer 
 limit to his ability to execute his purposes. He is not 
 alone compelled to work in accordance with mechanical 
 causation, and not against it; he is also conditioned by 
 the purpose which is imposed upon the universe and 
 upon him as its noblest representative, from a foreign 
 source, and he must fulfil his function, his part, in 
 bringing to a realization in fact, the purpose which is 
 everywhere evident. Indeed, unless the universe were 
 rationally, purposively, consciously, even *' Divinely 
 constituted, it could not be reasoned about." ^ 
 
 " But though there are some things which convince 
 
 ^ Frazer. 
 50 
 
THE PURPOSE OF ORGANIC NATURE 
 
 us human agents are concerned in producing them, yet 
 it is evident to every one that these things which are 
 called the works of nature are not produced by or de- 
 pendent on the wills of men." ^ 
 
 The external world, as given to us in experience, is 
 an ordered, necessarily connected series. We find the 
 external world a purposive order, and consequently de- 
 termine it to be consciously constituted. 
 
 " It is because there is an industry of nature, a ge- 
 ometry, and aesthetic of nature, that man is capable of 
 industry, of geometry and aesthetic. Nature is all that 
 we are, and all that we are we hold from nature. The 
 creative genius which the artist feels in himself is to 
 him the revelation and the symbol of the creative genius 
 of nature." ^ 
 
 This leads us to the position that there is, above the 
 physical laws of the world, a higher law, a mental caus- 
 ality, a conscious purpose, a spiritual and Divine guid- 
 ance. The laws of nature, as being of a lower order, 
 the lower of a pair of parallel horizontal lines, are 
 altered, changed, alFected, given validity and purposive- 
 ness by a higher law, which dominates it and overrules it, 
 usually unnoticed, but sometimes in a manner unusual, 
 as are those events which, not being easily explained, we 
 call miraculous, or wonderful, or strange. 
 
 We see here a causal activity working from the 
 
 upper line upon the lower, 
 
 a 
 
 i 
 h 
 
 (and yet we cannot consider this more than a very super- 
 ficial illustration). 
 
 ^ Berkeley, Principles, § 146. * Janet : Final Causes. 
 
 51 
 
THE CONCEPT PURPOSE 
 
 If the lower line indicates the series of events in 
 the world, and the upper the conscious, volitional, 
 thinking intelligence, to which we have referred the 
 purposiveness that we have observed in the lower line, 
 as to a cause or ground, we find this true in one sense. 
 
 Yet the illustration shows two lines which are every- 
 where equally distant, although infinitely prolonged. 
 This is when our view is restricted to a very limited por- 
 tion of the lines. 
 
 But purpose in the universe is not only an exterior 
 purposiveness, due to a consciousness independent of 
 the world and yet acting upon it, but also to an internal 
 purposiveness due to a " Weltgheist," or to an immanent 
 Consciousness. Let us use our illustration of the par- 
 allel lines again. If we view them from a distance, 
 they seem to approach so closely together that they ap- 
 pear identical. ( Or they may be considered as meeting 
 in infinity, or as crossing, if we introduce other consid- 
 erations not yet entertained, like a fourth dimension, for 
 instance. ) The first use of the lines illustrates the tran- 
 scendence, the second the immanence of God. But here 
 there is intended no contradiction. In distinction from 
 the German philosophers, we do not consider transcend- 
 ence and immanence as mutually exclusive. As a 
 matter of fact, there is no instance in the history of 
 philosophy where one excludes the other. Descartes' 
 " divinus concursus " and Leibnitz' " continued cre- 
 ation " both imply immanence. Spinoza's " Natura Nat- 
 urans " and Hegel's " Idea and Natm'e " imply tran- 
 scendence. All transcendence shows a relation be- 
 tween God and the world, and hence immanence, else 
 the separation between God and the world, being com- 
 
 52 
 
THE PURPOSE OF ORGANIC NATURE 
 
 plete, would prevent the knowledge of either by the 
 other. And all immanence shows a distinction, a du- 
 ahty, between God and the world, and hence transcend- 
 ence, else the identity would result in a fixity, an 
 unchangeableness, where there could be no cause and 
 effect, no relative and absolute. 
 
 We may illustrate the union of transcendence and 
 immanence by reference to the relation existing between 
 a man's mind and his body. Our mind is not our body. 
 To us, body, nerves, brain, are all objective. And 
 again we can in self -consciousness objectify ourselves 
 still more; ourselves as subjects are not ourselves as 
 objects. The immaterial mind transcends the body. 
 
 Again, the mind is immanent in the body, because 
 it is through the brain and nervous system that it acts 
 and manifests itself. It is the life of the body, and 
 displays itself in expression of face and in character, 
 and pervades all the work which it accomplishes. 
 
 These two relations are logically distinct, but are 
 actually one. The dead body differs from the living 
 because the mind is not active in it. And we have no 
 immediate and direct knowledge of a mind apart from 
 a body, although it transcends the body in its self-con- 
 scious, self -identical and self-determined characteristics. 
 
 The union of the two parallel lines of our former 
 illustration. 
 
 a. 
 h 
 
 is to be discovered and found in the concrete expressions 
 in reality of the concept purpose which, like the fourth 
 
 53 
 
THE CONCEPT PURPOSE 
 
 dimension, links the minds and the works of men in a 
 reciprocal relation, and in the same manner unites God 
 and the world. The supreme cause is at once apart from 
 and within nature. The purposes of God are worked 
 out both upon nature by external purposiveness and 
 within nature by internal pui'posiveness, and it is fre- 
 quently impossible to determine to which class the evi- 
 dences of a purpose belong. 
 
 And besides, all the secondary purposes are being 
 realized in the world; in this conception of the parallel 
 lines, all are linked and united into one great, purposive 
 whole. Nature is the working out and the evidence of a 
 purpose of God of which it is the gradually developing 
 realization. ^ 
 
 "An ' ultimate ' purpose of the world's being and 
 course, as such, may well seem something unattainable 
 and even inconceivable. The end to be attained can- 
 not be regarded as the complete cessation of the process 
 of its own attainment. The ultimate purpose of Na- 
 ture cannot be a statical condition. The very idea of 
 teleology is an incitement to strive on and live on; the 
 idea itself perishes in its own completed realization. To 
 be sure, individual men get tired and come to consider 
 Nirvana as the ultimate ideal; or they get pessimistic 
 and regard the condition when the world shall be a 
 burned-out coal as something devoutly to be wished. 
 But the world itself is not tired ; and the strictly ' ulti- 
 mate ' purpose is always beyond where man's hope and 
 faith — not to say man's knowledge — can go. . . . 
 This world is, fundamentally considered, known to 
 man as a Will guided by immanent ideas; and among 
 these guiding ideas are the ideal ends, already actually 
 
 54i 
 
THE PURPOSE OF ORGANIC NATURE 
 
 secured and to be secured by the action of this 
 WiU." ' 
 
 And thus man forms the conception of the Imma- 
 nent God. 
 
 And so, as the transcendent God and the immanent 
 God are one, the external purpose and the internal pur- 
 pose of the world are united into One Purpose, which 
 is the manifestation of the Will of God, expressing and 
 realizing His Ideas, and the " ultimate purpose " of the 
 universe is present before the Consciousness of God. 
 ^ Ladd : A Theory of Reality. 
 
 55 
 
BIBLIOGRAPHY 
 
 Berkeley : Dialogues ; Principles of Human Knowledge ; Theory of 
 Vision. 
 
 BowNE : Theory of Thought and Knowledge. 
 
 Butler : Analogy. 
 
 Descartes : Discourse on Method ; Meditations ; Principles of Philoso- 
 phy- 
 
 Dewey : Psychology. 
 
 FiCHTE : Wissenschaftslehre. 
 
 Haeckel : The Riddle of the Universe. 
 
 Hartmann : Philosophie des Unbewussten. 
 
 Hegel : Logic. 
 
 Hume : Treatise of Human Nature ; Enquiry Concerning Human 
 Understanding. 
 
 Illingworth : Personality ; Immanence. 
 
 James : Psychology. (Two volumes, and briefer course.) 
 
 Kant : Prolegomena ; Critique of Pure Reason ; Critique of Practical 
 Reason ; Critique of Judgment. 
 
 Ladd : Philosophy of Mind ; Outlines of Descriptive Psychology ; A 
 Theory of Reality. 
 
 Lange : History of Materialism. 
 
 Locke : Essay Concerning Human Understanding. 
 
 Milne-Edwards : Zoologie. 
 
 MuNSTERBERG : Grundziige der Psychologie. 
 
 Orr : God and the World. 
 
 Paulsen : Introduction to Philosophy. 
 
 PiERSoN : Grammar of Science. 
 
 Reaumer : Hist, des Insectes. 
 
 RiBOT : Diseases of the Will. 
 
 Royce : Spirit of Modern Philosophy ; The World and the Individual. 
 
 56 
 
* « • 
 
 • • • 
 
 BIBLIOGRAPHY 
 
 Schopenhauer : Fourfold Root ; Will in Nature ; The World as Will 
 
 and Idea. 
 Spinoza : Theo.-Pol. Treatise ; Political Treatise ; Improvement of 
 
 the Understanding ; Ethics. 
 Stout : Manual of Psychology. 
 Ward: Materialism and Agnosticism. 
 WooDBRiDGE : The Problem of Metaphysics. (Philosophical Reviewj 
 
 vol. xii.. No. 4, July^ 1903.) 
 
 57 
 
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